22265	----	Proofreading Team FRANK MERRIWELL'S CRUISE BY BURT L. STANDISH AUTHOR OF "Frank Merriwell's Schooldays," "Frank Merriwell's Chums," "Frank Merriwell's Foes," "Frank Merriwell's Trip West," etc. PHILADELPHIA DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER 604-8 SOUTH WASHINGTON SQUARE Copyright, 1898 By STREET & SMITH Frank Merriwell's Cruise FRANK MERRIWELL'S CRUISE. CHAPTER I. THE MEETING IN BOSTON. "MR. JOHN DIAMOND, Lexington, Pa.: If you wish cruise in down East waters, join me Monday next at American Hotel, Boston. Have purchased yacht. Hodge and Browning will be in party. Great sport anticipated. "MERRIWELL." Jack Diamond was reclining in a hammock suspended in the shade of an artificial arbor when this message from Frank Merriwell was handed to him by a boy. He tore open the envelope and read it, his eyes beginning to sparkle and a flush coming to his handsome, aristocratic face. "Just like him!" exclaimed Jack. "Before leaving Fardale he aroused our curiosity about that part of the country, and now he proposes taking us down there in his own yacht. Will I go? Will I? I wouldn't miss it for the world!" It had not taken him a minute to decide. * * * * * A cab rattled up to the front of the American Hotel, on Hanover Street, Boston, and stopped. The door flew open, and out stepped a smartly dressed young man, wearing russet shoes, a light-colored box coat and a brown Alpine hat. He carried a handsome alligator-skin traveling bag in his hand. Paying cabbie without speaking a word, this youth turned and walked into the hotel. As he entered, a colored boy hastened forward and relieved him of his traveling bag. He stepped up to the clerk's desk and said: "I am Jack Diamond, of Virginia, and I wish to see Mr. Frank Merriwell, who is stopping here." "Yes, sir," said the clerk, politely. "Mr. Merriwell left orders that you be shown up immediately on your arrival. Twenty-three, show Mr. Diamond to Mr. Merriwell's rooms." "Right this way, sah," said the colored boy. Jack followed the uniformed bell boy, who paused at the elevator shaft and pressed a button. In a moment the elevator came gliding noiselessly down, the door slid open, a lady and a gentleman stepped out and Diamond stepped in. "Third," said the bell boy, and then he turned and disappeared, while the elevator man closed the door and sent the car gliding upward. He stopped at the third floor, and, to Jack's surprise, the bell boy with the grip was there, calmly awaiting his arrival. Jack followed him to the door of a room at the front of the house. As the boy lifted his hand to knock at the door, there was a burst of laughter within, plainly heard, as the transom was open, and Frank Merriwell's voice cried: "Hans, if you could tell that story on the stage just as you told it then you would make your fortune." "Vot vos der madder mit me?" exclaimed the voice of Hans Dunnerwust, Frank's German friend. "Dot nefer vos a funny stories! You don'd seen vot I larft ad! Dot peen a bathetic sdory. I oxbected you vould took mein handkersheft oudt und cried id indo, but you sed roundt und laugh ad dot bathetic sdory like I vos a lot of monkeys. You don't like dot as vell as I might!" Then there was another burst of laughter, and the knock of the bell boy was not heard. "Never mind," said Diamond, taking his traveling bag and giving the boy a dime; "I'll go right in." He opened the door and stepped into the room. Hodge, Browning, Merriwell and Dunnerwust were there. Bart was tilted back in a chair, with his feet on the table, while lazy Bruce was half sitting and half reclining on a sofa. Frank sat astride a chair, looking over the back of it at Hans, who had stood in the middle of the room as he told his "bathetic sdory." "Hello, fellows!" cried the lad from Virginia, heartily. There was a shout of welcome. Frank sprang forward quickly and grasped Diamond's hand. "Delighted, old man!" laughed Merry. "I was afraid you wouldn't come till I received your telegram stating that you would be on hand. Any trouble in persuading the mother?" "Not much, though she said it did seem that I might remain at home a while longer, and she told me to tell you that she is beginning to get jealous of you, as I spend so much of my time during vacations with you." "How you vos, Shack?" said Hans, getting hold of Diamond's free hand, the latter having dropped his traveling bag. "I vos a sight vor sore eyes, ain'd you! You don'd knew how dickled you vos to seen me." Hodge came forward and shook hands, expressing his pleasure, and, with sundry grunts, Browning succeeded in getting upon his feet, saying as he rose: "Suppose I'll have to stand to shake, or you'll challenge me. You Southerners are so confoundedly particular about courtesy and all that." Jack smiled. "I know you too well to resent it if you lay on your back and offered to shake hands with me. In fact, it surprises me to discover you hadn't rather fight a duel after you were obliged to get up than to get up when not absolutely forced to do so." "What baggage did you bring?" asked Merry. "A trunk. It will be brought to the hotel here." "There is no room for trunks on board the _White Wings_," said Frank. "You'll have to store your trunk and such stuff as you do not absolutely need till we get back here." "The _White Wings_? Is that the name of your yacht?" "Yes." "Good name. How did you happen to buy a yacht?" "Got a bargain of her. I came on to Boston with Miss Burrage, whose aunt was waiting here for her. I met Jack Benjamin. You remember him?" "Harvard man?" "Yes." "Plays football?" "Yes." "I remember him. His sister is a stunningly handsome girl." "Huah!" grunted Browning. "That explains how you happen to remember him." "Well," Frank went on. "Benjamin turned out to be a fine fellow. Invited me over to his house, treated me beautifully. He knows a lot of sporty chaps. Among them was Walter Pringle, who owned this yacht. Pringle took a party of us out for a cruise down the bay, and we had a grand time. Went to Nantasket. Coming back Pringle said he had planned to cruise down to the eastward this summer with a party of friends, but something had come up that knocked out the arrangement. Then it was that I thought of a talk we once had while at Fardale about making a cruise down along the Maine coast, and I spoke of it. Said I'd like to own his yacht. Saw Pringle looked a little queer. He stared at me a few moments, and then asked what I would give for the _White Wings_. I questioned him some about her, and then made an offer. He didn't take me up, but the next day he came and told me the yacht was mine. I was astonished, for I didn't offer much more than one-half what she is really worth. But he said he must have the money without delay, as he was going to get out of Boston in a hurry. I dispatched Prof. Scotch, and he wired me the amount. I bought the boat, and now I hear Pringle has left for Seattle, on his way to Alaska. His father is hot over it, for he didn't want his son to go. Pringle had the fever, and he sold the yacht in a hurry to raise money to go with. I have a bargain. We can make our cruise, and then, when it is over, by looking about, I'll be able to get rid of the _White Wings_ for more than I paid for her." "Are you sure the transaction is all right?" asked Diamond. "All right? How do you mean?" "Why, strictly on the level. Pringle is not a minor?" "No," grunted Browning; "but he has gone to be a miner." "Here! here!" cried Frank, quickly; "that won't do. It's prohibited." "It may be when we get on board the _White Wings_, but we're ashore now, and you are not Capt. Merriwell yet." "Pringle is twenty-one," said Frank, answering Diamond's question. "He is all right." "And he was sole owner of the yacht? He had the right to sell her?" "Of course. Benjamin told me Pringle was strictly on the level." "Well, you're always lucky!" exclaimed the lad from Virginia. "Now you will get the fun of this cruise, and, when it is over, you'll be likely to sell the yacht for enough so that you will come out ahead on the whole deal, expenses included." "I hope to," acknowledged Frank, laughing. "I considered it a snap, but that was not why I wanted the boat. I wanted to make the cruise with my friends. Here are five of us, and that is all the _White Wings_ will carry with absolute comfort. There is plenty of room for us. We'll make a jolly cruise of it, fellows, and I don't believe we'll ever regret going. I have the boat stocked with provisions, and some Jew tailors up by Scollay Square are at work on uniforms for four of us. We'll go out right away, Jack, and you shall be measured for yours. Come on." CHAPTER II. INZA AND PAULA. Frank and Jack left the American House and turned toward Scollay Square. "These tailors are rushers," said Merry. "They have made a reputation by turning out work in short order. That is why we ordered the suits of them. You know we sail to-morrow morning." "What? Not to-morrow?" "Sure." "Well, they will not have time to make up a suit for me." "Oh, yes, they will." "Impossible." "Not at all, old man. They will get the work out in a hurry, as I shall pay them to do it." "But I never heard of such a thing." "Possibly not. You are in Boston now. In Virginia they require more time to accomplish anything. Down in this part of the country things move." Diamond could hardly believe that he could obtain a suit to order in such a short time. They came to Scollay Square, into which trolley cars were pouring from various sections, and soon they reached the store of the Jew tailors. It was a large store, and at least a dozen customers were looking over samples, striking bargains or being measured. However, the boys were not forced to wait, for one of the proprietors came forward, greeted Frank by name, and said: "Your order will be ready for you on time, Mr. Merriwell." "We sail at nine o'clock to-morrow morning," said Frank. "Here is a friend of mine who will require a suit like the others." "That is crowding us somewhat, sir," smiled the tailor. "I hardly think we can----" "I will pay five dollars extra if the suit is delivered at the American House at six o'clock in the morning," said Frank, quietly. "Very well, sir. I think that will cover the extra expense of rushing it through. If the gentleman will step back this way, his measure will be taken." So Jack was measured, and, ten minutes after entering the store, the boys left it. "He didn't even ask a deposit of you, Merry," said Jack, in surprise. "No. Benjamin vouched for me, and that was all that was necessary. No deposit was required under such circumstances." "What if he fails to get the suits round on time?" "He won't. He wouldn't want them left on his hands." Frank's confidence reassured Jack, and they strolled over toward Tremont Street and finally came out at the Common. "I'd like to have a little time to look Boston over?" said Jack. "You can do that when we come back. If you were to stop long enough to take in all the interesting sights, we wouldn't get down into Maine this summer. I want to spend a little more time in Boston, although I have seen Faneuil Hall, the new Public Library Building, the Old South Church, Bunker Hill Monument and a hundred other interesting things. The business portion of Boston is not particularly attractive, but the suburbs and the aristocratic dwelling sections are beautiful." They walked across the Common to the Public Gardens, then turned round and strolled back. From Tremont Row they went down Temple Street to Washington, and just as they reached Jordan, Marsh & Co.'s store, two girls stepped out upon the sidewalk and came face to face with them. "Miss Burrage!" exclaimed Diamond, lifting his hat. "Inza!" cried Frank, also lifting his hat. "Miss Benjamin, too! This is an unexpected pleasure. Miss Benjamin, permit me to present a particular friend of mine, Mr. Jack Diamond, of Virginia." Paula Benjamin was a pretty girl. Her eyes met Jack's, and she showed her pearly teeth in a most bewitching smile as she bowed, saying: "I have heard of Mr. Diamond." "Indeed!" exclaimed Jack. "I was not aware I was quite as famous." "Yes. My brother mentioned you. Perhaps you know something of him--his name is Jack. He plays on the Harvard eleven." "And he spoke of me? That is surprising. Don't see what he could have said about me." "I don't believe I will tell," laughed the girl, and her manner aroused all of the Virginian's curiosity. "Please tell," he urged, smiling. "Well," hesitated Paula, still laughing, "before the game on Jarvis Field, he said you were fool enough to think Frank Merriwell could beat the whole Harvard eleven. After the game he said you weren't half the fool he took you for." This caused them all to laugh, and, as the street was crowded, they strolled on together. "Oh, Frank!" exclaimed Inza; "you can't guess what we are going to do!" "Then I will give it up without trying. What is it?" "Paula and I are going to Bar Harbor." "What?" "It's true." "I am astonished!" "I knew you would be. We've been talking about it, you know--saying we'd like to go. Yesterday Paula had a letter from her cousin, who is spending the summer down there. Her cousin urged her to come. Paula's mother said it was impossible, as two girls like us should not be traveling about alone. Then Aunt Abigail said she'd like to spend a week or two in Bar Harbor herself, and she volunteered to chaperone us. After a while, Paula obtained her mother's consent, and we take the Bangor boat for Rockland to-morrow night." "By Jove, this is interesting! We'll have to run in to Bar Harbor and see you on our cruise. I didn't suppose we would see much of each other after leaving Fardale." "I didn't know as you would care about that," said Inza, carelessly. "Care!" exclaimed Frank. "You should know I would care. How can you say anything like that! What made you imagine I wouldn't care?" "Oh, something!" "Something! What was it? Tell me, Inza." "Sometime--perhaps." "Tell me now," urged Frank, in his masterful way. "During the last of my stay in Fardale I noticed a change in your treatment of me, Inza." "Did you?" she murmured, lifting her eyebrows. "Yes. You were cold toward me, and you seemed to shun me. If I tried to be friendly, as in the old days, you would not give me the opportunity. I did not understand it." "That is singular. The reason was plain enough." "If so, I must have been thick-witted." "Elsie Bellwood was there." "Yes." "I read your secret. You made your choice between us." Frank was astounded. "Choice? What can you mean, Inza? I did not make any choice." "Oh, but you did!" "If you say so--but I--really----" "You made your choice that time when the boat upset, and we were struggling in the water, Elsie and I. You plunged in to her rescue. I was quite as near to you as was Elsie--nearer, if anything." Frank caught his breath, beginning to realize what she meant. Inza went on: "You swam to Elsie's rescue--you saved her. That was the test. I brought it about, for I upset the boat intentionally to settle the point. I wanted to know which one of us you cared the most for--and I found out!" It was like her, Frank realized that. He knew she was telling the truth when she said she upset the boat intentionally. "But you--you could swim some, Inza. I knew it." "Did you know Elsie could not swim?" "N--no." "She is the daughter of a sea captain, and she has been with him on many voyages. There was every reason to suppose that she could swim quite as well as I--or better. No, Frank, you made your choice between us that day. It's all right," and she forced a laugh that was not very musical. "I don't deny that, at one time, I did think more of you than any other fellow. There was every reason why I should. You saved me from a mad dog, saved me from death beneath a railroad engine, saved me from drowning. But I am not a fool, if I am a girl! I have not been taking stock in all the passionate love stories I have read. I got out of the way. I remained Elsie's friend, for she is the sweetest girl I know. I don't blame you for thinking more of her than you do of me." "Inza!" Frank uttered the word in protest; it was all he could say. "You can't deny it, so don't try," came almost harshly from the girl. "It's all right. We're still friends. We'll always be friends--nothing more. Sometime I'll be bridesmaid at the wedding, and----" But Frank had heard enough, and he stopped her. "I am not likely to marry anyone very soon," he said. "Elsie knows that. Let's talk about something else. How did it happen we met you?" Inza seemed willing enough to permit the conversation to be turned into another channel. "We were out shopping, you know--making our last purchases before starting for Bar Harbor. You must take us out on your yacht after we all get down there." "I'll do it. Your aunt----" "Oh, she will not object. You know she thinks you the finest fellow in all the world. She will come along." At last the boys were forced to part from the girls, but Jack had made such progress with Paula that she offered him her hand at parting, saying laughingly: "Next fall you will not pick the winner if you pick Yale, even if Mr. Merriwell is on that eleven. If you want to keep your record for wisdom, be careful." "Jove!" exclaimed Jack, after they had seen the girls on board a car. "She's a way-upper, Merry!" "She's a good sample of the Boston girl." "Eh? Where's her glasses?" "You have been reading the comic papers." "She didn't mention Emerson or Browning." "And that surprised you?" "Why, I didn't suppose the genuine Boston girl could talk ten minutes without doing so." "Boston girls are very much like other nice girls, old man. They are well educated, refined and all that, but they are not always quoting Emerson and Browning, they do not all wear glasses, they are not all cold and freezing and they are handsome." They came to Cornhill. A car was coming down from Scollay Square, and they paused close to it to let it swing out upon Washington Street. Just as the front of the car approached, Frank Merriwell received a push from behind that sent him flat upon the track directly in front of the car wheels! That particular car did not have a fender, and it seemed that Frank must be mangled beneath the wheels. The motorman saw the lad go down and put on the brake hard, but he could not stop the car in time. Frank realized that he had been pushed upon the track by some one whose deliberate purpose it was to maim or murder him, but he could not save himself. He struck the paving, and the iron wheels seemed right upon him. But Jack Diamond moved with marvelous quickness. He made a grasp at Frank as the latter fell, almost caught him, then stooped, grasped his coat and yanked Merry from the track. The car brushed Frank as it passed, but he was not injured. "Thank you, old man," said Merriwell, as he quickly rose to his feet. "You saved me that time. But who pushed me?" They looked about. A small crowd had witnessed Frank's peril and gathered. In the crowd was a person slipping away. With a bound Frank was after him, caught him by the shoulder, swung him to get a look at his face. "Get out!" The fellow snarled the words and struck at Frank's face with his clinched hand. Frank dodged. "Wat Snell!" he cried, astounded. "Yes, Wat Snell!" grated the other, who was a boy well known to him--a boy who had been his enemy years before at Fardale Academy, when they both went to school. "You pushed me!" accused Frank. "You lie! I did not touch you! You fell." "I felt you push me, you miserable dog!" "Don't dare talk like that to me!" hissed Snell. "I'll have you----" "What! You don't dare do anything that is cowardly and treacherous! You did push me!" "That's right!" exclaimed a boy. "I seen him do it!" There was a murmur from the crowd that began to gather about. Black looks were directed toward Snell. "He ought to be lynched!" blustered a little old man. Then there were threats, and Snell grew pale, looking around for some means of escape. He saw accusing and angry faces on all sides, and he quailed and trembled. "It was an accident," he whined, humbly. "I ran against you by accident. I'll swear I didn't recognize you, and I didn't mean you any harm." "Call an officer!" cried the little old man. "It was an attempt at murder! Have him taken care of!" With a gasp, Snell plunged through the crowd and took to his heels. Some tried to stop him, but he ran like a deer up Cornhill. There was a short pursuit, but the fellow doubled and dodged, escaping his pursuers. "Let him go," said Frank. "I wouldn't make a charge against him, for it would detain me, and we must get away in the morning, wind and weather permitting." "He ought to be punished," said Diamond. "He tried to kill you." "It isn't the first time he has tried to do something to me. We are old, old foes." "Why, I supposed him in Fardale." "So did I." "It's singular he's here in Boston." "Rather." "What is the meaning of it?" "I can't tell. Don't ask me. He bobs up anywhere. Anyhow, we're not liable to see him again for some time after we leave here to-morrow." They returned to the hotel and told the others of their adventures. All the boys were astonished to learn that Wat Snell was in the city. CHAPTER III. A HOODOOED YACHT. Promptly at six o'clock the following morning the uniforms were delivered at the American House. Without delay the boys put them on, and they proved satisfactory in every way, so Frank paid the bill and the messenger who brought them departed satisfied. The boys ate an early breakfast, and all had good appetites. The American House dining room is rather somber, but they joked and laughed in the best of spirits. After breakfast final arrangements for the care of their baggage were made, then a cab was ordered, and they all piled in and were rattled away toward Atlantic Avenue. Jack had not seen Frank's yacht, and he was curious, concerning her appearance. Not far from the pier of the Bangor boat lay the _White Wings_, guarded by a watchman, who saluted Merriwell as the boys went aboard. The _White Wings_ was a sloop yacht with club and jib topsails. She was not large, and it did not strike Diamond that she would prove to be fast, but she looked comfortable, and comfort was what they sought. They were not thinking of racing. Frank paid the watchman for his services, and gave him something extra, whereupon the man departed greatly satisfied. "Come, fellows," called Merry; "we'll go below and see how she looks down there." They descended into the cabin, which was locked, Merry having the key. Jack was astonished when they entered the cabin, for it was far more roomy than he had supposed possible. A glimpse at the curtained berths showed there was plenty of sleeping room for all of them. There was a folding table, an oil stove, comfortable seats on the lockers, and everything looked inviting. Four handsome repeating shotguns and a magazine rifle hung above the lockers. "How does she look down here, fellows?" asked Frank. "She looks all right," grunted Browning, as he lazily rolled into one of the bunks. "Excuse me. I want to see what kind of a place I'll be stowed in when I am seasick." "What do you think you'll do with those guns, Frank?" asked Jack. "Can't tell," smiled Frank. "Remember, we are going down into Maine." "Yes, but you told us Maine was a civilized State. From your talk when we discussed the matter I didn't suppose guns would be needed down there." "Is Virginia civilized?" "Well, rather." "Ever find anything to shoot up in the mountain region?" "Oh, yes; but----" "That's all. New York is civilized, but there are bears and deer in the Adirondacks." "Well, I didn't know we were going anywhere near a portion of Maine where there was game." "Can't tell where we may go." "Besides, if they have game laws down there, it must be close time for hunting." "It is, but, all the same, it will be a good scheme to have these guns along. We're going to rough it a great deal, and we may need them. I have brought all sorts of rigs for fishing, and I have two tents on board. My idea, gentlemen, is to make this a regular outing trip, and, when we are not on board the _White Wings_, we do not want to spend our time in hotels." "Not much," nodded Hodge. "Say, Merriwell," cried Diamond, in admiration, "you are a dandy. You have planned all our outings for the past two years, and we have had sport galore; but what makes me sore is the fact that you pay all the bills." A truck team came rumbling down onto the wharf, and Hodge looked around. "Baggage," he called. A truckman had arrived with their luggage from the hotel. The boys, excepting Browning, went on deck and brought the stuff aboard. As Frank was settling with the truckman, the latter said: "I wish you good luck, young man, but I doubt if you'll have it taking a cruise in that craft." "Why is that?" asked Merry. "What is the matter with that craft?" "Well, sir, they do say as how she is hoodooed." "Indeed!" "Yes, sir. Everybody as has owned her in the last two years has had hard luck." "This is interesting." "I hauled her first load of provisions, and I have known her a long time. On her trial cruise she capsized before she got out of the harbor." "Is that all?" "Hardly. Her first owner committed suicide on board of her--cut his throat down below. They say she has been haunted by his spook ever since." Merry laughed. "This is decidedly interesting. I'd have given more for her if I had known she owned a spook. I am very fond of spooks. They are interesting." "Boo!" shivered the truckman. "Don't want none in mine." "Have you told me all the unlucky things that have happened to the _White Wings_?" "No. Next fellow that owned her ran down a rowboat and drowned a boy. Then he put her on top of a ledge, but got her off without doing her much damage. He sold her for a song." "What happened next?" "Next fellow as owned her went crazy and is in an asylum. They say he saw the spook go through the suicide act in the cabin, and that was what crazed him." "The interest increases. The horrors are piling up. Anything more?" "Benjamin owned her next." "Anything happen to him?" "Yes." "What?" "He got the Klondike fever." "That all?" "Ain't that enough? He's run away to Alaska, and his father's rich as mud. He didn't have no need to go up there into that infernally cold region and freeze and starve. His old man's so mad he threatens to cut him off." "Well," laughed Frank, "the _White Wings_ is mine now, and I don't fancy all the spooks of the infernal regions could scare me away from her. In fact, I'd rather enjoy having a call from a few spooks." "You'll have some kind of bad luck," declared the truckman, as he prepared to go. "I don't like to tell you that, but I think you oughter be looking out." A young man with a small, curly, black mustache came hurrying onto the pier. He was well dressed and carried a cane. He came straight up to Frank and the truckman. "Where is the person known as Frank Merriwell?" he asked. "I am Frank Merriwell," Merry answered. "What can I do for you?" "You are the chap I want to see," said the stranger. "I understand you bought the _White Wings_ of Jack Benjamin?" "I did, sir." "And he sold it to you as clear and free of encumbrance?" "He did." "He beat you." "How is that?" "I hold a bill of sale of that yacht, and I am here to claim it as my property!" was the answer. Frank was surprised. The truckman slapped his hand against his hip and muttered: "I told him! The thing is hoodooed! Anybody as has anything to do with it is bound to buck against hard luck." "This is rather surprising information," said Frank Merriwell, speaking with the utmost calmness, while he studied the face of the stranger with piercing eyes. "I hardly understand it. I believe Jack Benjamin has the reputation in Boston of being on the level, and so I hardly understand a piece of business like this." "Perhaps Benjamin was stuck, found it out, and got out of the hole the best way he could." "How do you mean?" "Perhaps at the time he bought the boat, he didn't know I held the bill of sale of her." Frank started. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "Then Benjamin did not give you the bill of sale?" "No. Chap that owned her before that did. His name is Fearson." "Fearson? Is he the one who went crazy?" "The very same," put in the truckman. "When did he give you this bill of sale?" "Don't remember the exact date." "The bill will show." "Sure. Why do you want to know?" "I want to find out if he gave it to you before a certain time. That's all." The strange claimant of the yacht was suspicious. "I don't see the point," he said. "I hold the bill, and I claim the yacht. Just found out what Benjamin had done, and I came down in a hurry, after getting track of the boat, to warn you not to try to move her. I won't have it." It began to look like a scrape, but Frank was not flustered in the least. He kept his head, saying: "Have you the bill of sale with you, sir?" "Yes." "Will you be kind enough to permit me to look at it?" The stranger started to do so, but seemed to change his mind of a sudden, and said: "No, I won't bother. I tell you not to move her. If you do, I'll make you pay a big sum for damages, so look out." Frank smiled sweetly. "That is a very silly threat," he murmured. "If you do not show me the document I shall not believe it exists." "That doesn't make any difference to----" "It makes this difference: It is now twenty minutes to nine. At nine I shall cast off from the pier. Wind and tide being right, it will not take me long to get out of the harbor." "You wouldn't dare!" "What is there to dare? I fail to see anything." "Why, confound you! I'd make you smart for it!" "You couldn't. You have made a lot of bluffing talk about holding a bill of sale, but I do not take any stock in that till you produce the document. I have purchased this yacht, and, as long as I believe myself her rightful owner, I shall do with her as I see fit. At nine o'clock she sails." The fellow hesitated, and then snapped out: "Oh, I can prove to you that I am not lying. I will prove it. Here is the bill--see for yourself." He took a number of papers from his pocket, and selected one among them, which he opened and held before Frank. Merriwell looked the document over carefully. It was a bill of sale of the yacht _White Wings_ from Fergus Fearson to Parker Flynn. "Is your name Parker Flynn?" asked Frank. "It is." "And you bought the yacht of Fearson?" "You bet!" nodded the claimant, triumphantly. "I rather think this document settles it." "It does," nodded Frank, quietly. Then he turned to the truckman, and asked: "When was Mr. Fearson committed to the asylum?" "The latter part of May." "And this bill is dated May 21st. The fellow must have been deranged then." "Oh, you can't make that go!" cried Flynn, quickly. "It's no use for you to try to crawl out of a little hole like that." "Why have you not claimed the yacht before? Holding this bill, why didn't you claim it while it was in Benjamin's possession? Answer that question!" "I was away--out of the city," faltered Flynn. "All the time?" "Most of the time." "Very well. Here is your bill. I advise you to destroy it without delay, or it may get you into serious trouble." "What?" cried the man, angrily. "Destroy it? I'll have that yacht. This bill gives me the right to it." "That bill gives you the right to nothing!" came clearly and distinctly from Merriwell's lips. "Either you have been badly fooled or you are a rascal trying to obtain property that you have not the slightest claim upon. It looks as if the latter were the real condition of affairs. Fergus Fearson is confined in a madhouse, and so he cannot deny that he ever gave you a bill of sale of this yacht." "Deny it? Here is his signature!" "And that may be forgery! I tell you to be careful!" "It is not forgery! It is genuine! Your bluff will not go, sir! The yacht is mine, and I will have her." "Even if the signature is genuine, the bill is not worth the paper it's written on!" declared Merriwell, with the utmost coolness. "More bluffing! You are crazy! Why isn't it good?" "Because it is dated May 21st." "What of that?" "The date is exactly four days after John Benjamin purchased and paid for this yacht, as I can prove by documents in existence. If Fergus Fearson sold you the _White Wings_ on May 21st, he sold you property that did not belong to him. That's all, Mr. Flynn." The claimant of the yacht turned pale and stared at the bill and then at Frank, who was standing there so coolly before him. On the deck of the yacht were three boys who had heard the most of the conversation. Now Hodge exultantly exclaimed: "That was a body blow! Merry has floored him!" "That's right," nodded Diamond. "Frank has the best of it, but it did seem that we were in a scrape." Flynn gasped for breath. "I don't believe it!" he cried. "The boat is mine, so don't dare cast off from this pier." "The _White Wings_ sails at nine o'clock," said Frank, turning away. Flynn's face, that had been so pale, flushed and turned purple with anger. All at once, he lifted his walking stick to bring it down on Merry's head. A cry from the boys on the yacht warned Merriwell, who ducked and dodged--just in time. Whizz!--the cane cut through the air, but Merry was not touched. Quick as thought, Frank turned and grappled with Parker Flynn. He wrenched away the cane, and, with a quick motion, broke it across his knee. Then, as he coolly tossed it into the water, he said: "If you try any more funny business, sir, you'll follow your cane." "Oh, I'll fix you!" Flynn almost screamed. "I'll get a warrant for you! I'll be back in a hurry! Don't dare leave before I return!" He dashed away on the run. "I told you you would have bad luck," said the truckman. "It's begun." "Oh, I don't know!" laughed Frank. "If Flynn paid money for the yacht, he is the one in hard luck." At nine o'clock the _White Wings_ cast off from the pier. Her sails were hoisted, and, aided by the out-running tide, she soon got away enough to catch a breeze. And Parker Flynn had not returned. CHAPTER IV. IN THE FOG. "It's no use, fellows, we can't go any further in this fog to-night," said Frank Merriwell on the fourth day after leaving Boston. "We must go farther!" exclaimed Diamond. "There is no anchorage here." "How do you know? We haven't tried for it." "But we are not in a harbor." "No. We are somewhere near the Whitehead Islands, near the mouth of Penobscot Bay." "Well, let's keep on as long as there is a breath of wind. I don't fancy anchoring here. We might be run down in the night." "And, if we keep on, the chances are two to one that we'll run onto a reef or pile up on an island. I had much rather take the chances of anchoring here and being run down. The wind is dying out, and this fog is shutting down thicker and thicker." "Well," said Jack, in a dissatisfied way, "this is your boat and you are in command. You can do as you like." "I'll do as the majority believes best." "Then anchor," grunted Browning. "I don't fancy this prowling about in the fog." Hodge was in favor of anchoring, and Hans agreed with them, so Jack was the only one who felt like going on. He gave up in disgust. While they were talking the last faint breeze had fallen swiftly, and, by the time it was definitely decided, the _White Wings_ lay becalmed, rolling helplessly on the swells that came in from the open sea. "Shimminy Gristmas!" groaned Hans. "I don't like dot roll up und drop avay motions. Id makes me feel sick to your stomach." "You will get enough of that as long as we remain anchored out here," said Diamond, unpleasantly. Frank gave the orders, and down came the sails. A sounding showed they could anchor without trouble, and then the anchor was cast. The sails were not reefed, for it was not known when they might be required. Arrangements were made for raising them on short notice. Night came down swiftly. Lights were set, but the boys felt that a light was poor protection for them in that darkness and fog. "If we are in the course of the steamers we'll be run down," grumbled Jack. "There'll have to be a regular watch to-night," declared Frank; "and the fog horn must be used." Browning had managed to crawl on deck, and he looked disconsolate and disgusted. "This is what they call a life on the ocean wave," he grunted. "Oh, it is more fun than a minstrel show!" "We'll have to put up with some discomforts," said Merriwell. "We made a mistake in coming further east than Portland," put in Jack. "That was a good place to stop." "Wait till the sun comes out to-morrow and we run into Rockland Harbor," laughed the owner of the _White Wings_. "You will change your tune." "Well, I hope so." Hans was given the first watch, and he remained on deck while the others went below and had supper. At intervals he blew a blast on the horn, which sounded like some lost animal bellowing in the fog. Frank laughed and joked, and he succeeded in putting the others in better spirits after a time. It was comfortable in the cabin, despite the fog outside. Hodge made coffee, and the smell of it as it bubbled over the blaze of the oil stove gave all of them a ravenous feeling of hunger. The little folding table was let down and spread, and the sight of the food and smell of the coffee took their minds off the unpleasantness of their situation. "It was a foolhardy thing running down here without somebody who knew the coast," said Jack. "My dear fellow," smiled Frank, "we have our chart and compass, and I know a little something about navigation. Quit your worrying. I'll land you in Rockland to-morrow all right." "You were going to land us there to-day." "And so I would had the wind held right and this fog kept off." "I believe there is a fog factory down this way somewhere," said Browning. Hodge announced that supper was ready, and they gathered about the table. The _White Wings_ was riding on a steady, regular swell, so they were not shaken up down there, and they found they could eat without discomfort. Browning was hungry as a bear, and he "pitched into the spread." "Well, I don't know as this is too bad after all," he confessed, taking a third slice of tongue. "We've been in worse places." "That's right," nodded Hodge. "Pass the sugar. I want a little of this coffee myself. I made it." "The coffee is good," acknowledged Jack. "It warms a fellow up. A little grog wouldn't go bad in a case like this." "There is no grog on this boat and will not be as long as I own her," declared Merriwell. "It's a foolish thing for a lot of fellows on a cruise like this to think that they must have grog." "Oh, I didn't suppose you had any on board, Merriwell," said Diamond. "I know your temperance principles too well to look for anything like that." By the time they finished eating all were in much better spirits. No one but Hans had been troubled with seasickness thus far on the cruise, and the Dutch boy had not been very sick. Hans was called down to eat, and Bart took his place while he was below. "Uf I can haf some of dot coffee id vill done you goot," said the Dutch lad. "I don'd pelief I vant to ead much. Mein stomach felt like id don'd been aple to held much uf a loadt. Yaw!" So Hans drank some coffee and ate a little hard bread, after which he returned to his duties on deck, having donned a suit of oil clothes. Frank got out his guitar and put it in tune. "That's right, Merry," grunted Browning, rolling into his bunk. "Give us a song to cheer us up." "What shall I sing?" "Some of the old college songs." "They'll make me homesick," said Diamond. "It's a pleasant thing to feel homesick for Old Yale," murmured Frank. "Dear Old Yale!" "Give us 'Stars of the Summer Night,'" urged Hodge. So Frank sang the song that has sounded beneath the elms at Yale so many times. It was a beautiful song, and it awakened in the memories of the listening lads thoughts of the gay times at college, the moonlight nights, the roistering lads, the lighted windows of the Quad and the groups gathered at the Fence. Jack brushed his eyes. "Don't sing anything more like that," he urged. "Make it something lively--'Solomon Levi,' or any old thing." So "Solomon Levi" followed, and they all joined in on the chorus. Other lively songs were sung, and, by the time Frank put aside the guitar all were in fairly good spirits. Merriwell arranged the program of standing watch. Hans was relieved before they turned in. All through the night they took turns at standing watch and blowing away at intervals on the fog horn. And the night passed quickly enough without event. When morning came, however, the fog still hung on the surface of the water. They ate a light breakfast, and Frank fell to walking the deck impatiently. "If there was a breeze, this fog would be liable to lift," he said. "It is disgusting." After a little a light breeze rose, but it did not clear away the fog entirely. However, the coming of the sun had some effect on it, and it was not long before Merry decided to get up anchor and run up the sails. The anchor was hoisted and the sails set. Frank took the wheel. During the night the old swell had run out. Frank had studied his chart till he believed he knew about where they lay, and he set his course by the compass. Not ten minutes after getting under way they found they were headed straight for an island. In their vicinity the fog was not heavy, but out beyond the island lay a bank of it. Immediately on sighting the island, Frank changed the course of the yacht, bringing her almost about. Then he ran out past the island, headed for the fog bank. All at once there was a strange sound, a roaring swish of water. Not one of them was certain which direction the sound came from. "Vot dot vos?" exclaimed Hans, in alarm. "Keep still!" ordered Frank. The sounds grew louder. Then, all at once, Hans flung up his hands and shouted: "Reef your rudder, Vrankie! You vos running a sdeampoat ofer us!" Out of the fog bank, just ahead, came a large side-wheel steamer, headed straight toward them! Frank sighted the steamer at the same moment Hans saw it, and he realized their peril. It was the Boston boat, _City of Bangor_, on its course up the bay. In the twinkling of an eye, Merriwell threw the wheel over and over, the _White Wings_ swung to port, but headed straight across the course of the great steamer. Hoo-oo-oot! hoo-oo-oot! hoo-oo-oot! sounded the hoarse warning whistle from the steamer. "If you had been whistling through that fog bank all would have been right," muttered Merriwell, through his set teeth. "Now, if you run me down, you'll pay for this yacht!" There was a jangling sound of a bell on board the steamer, and the pilot in the pilot house was seen to send his wheel spinning over with frantic haste at the same moment that the headway of the steamer grew less. "Will she clear us?" cried Hodge. "She is bound to cut us in two!" shouted Diamond. "There isn't breeze enough for us to get out of her way!" "Vere vos der life breserfers?" squawked Hans. "I vant to got me onto a life-breserfer a hurry in!" The Dutch lad made a headlong leap for the companion way. At the head of the steps he stubbed his toe and down he went head first. It happened that Bruce Browning had heard the commotion on deck, and, strange to relate, it had aroused him so that he was coming up. Bruce had just started to go above when Hans came flying through the air like a huge toad, struck him full and fair, and both went down in a heap on the cabin floor. "Dot seddles id!" yelled the frightened Dutch lad. "Der yocht vos sunkin' und I vos a goner!" "You blundering Dutch chump!" gasped Bruce, when he could catch his breath. "What is the matter?" "Didn't you toldt me der yocht vos sunkin'?" shrieked Hans. "Id haf run ofer a pig sdeampoat! Uf you kept myseluf drownting from I vill haf to got oudt und valk ashore!" Browning managed to get himself together and rise to his feet. Then he hurried up the companion way and reached the deck just in time to see the huge white hull of a steamboat looming above the yacht. But Merriwell's prompt action and steady nerve had saved the _White Wings_, for the steamer, with motionless paddlewheels, was slipping past, the yacht having cut square across her course. It was a close shave, and a few white faces looked over the forward starboard rail of the huge steamer. "If you chaps knew your business you would be at anchor instead of cruising round in this fog," called a hoarse voice from the steamer. "If you knew your business you would blow your fog whistle while running through a fog bank," returned Frank Merriwell, promptly. "That's the stuff, Merry!" grated Hodge, whose face was still pale. "How do you suppose they happened to do such a thing?" "Probably that bank of fog is narrow, and they only ran into it a few minutes ago. Perhaps they did not strike heavy fog till just before they broke through and came into view." "Well, it was a piece of reprehensible carelessness, and it's lucky the _White Wings_ was not cut in two." As the huge steamer slipped past, the boys saw not many persons were astir on her. She had made an all-night run from Boston, and the passengers were still sleeping in their staterooms, with a few exceptions. Near the stern of the steamer were two persons in mackintoshes. They seemed to regard the yacht with interest, not to say excitement, and their movements attracted the attention of the boys. One of the passengers clutched the other by the arm and pointed out the _White Wings_, then both leaned over the rail. Jack Diamond leaped to Merriwell's side, grasped Merry by the shoulder, and cried in his ear: "Look, Merriwell--look!" "Where?" "On the steamer there! The two fellows astern!" "I see them." "Know them?" "By Jove! I believe I do!" "One of them is----" "Wat Snell!" "Sure! And the other is----" "The chap who claimed this yacht--Parker Flynn!" "Exactly." "Great Scott! What are they doing on that boat?" "Following us!" "Perhaps they are." "Perhaps! There is no perhaps about it! Of course they are!" "But Snell and Flynn together--how does that happen?" "I can't tell that, but they are together, and they are following us--that's sure. You are not done with Flynn, it seems." "He will get into trouble if he bothers me any more. I shall not stand any nonsense from him. As for Wat Snell, all I want is a good chance to square up with him. I will make him sorry he ever heard of me!" "That's the talk, Frank!" exclaimed Diamond, approvingly. "Snell will be easier to dispose of than the other chap, for it is probable that Flynn believes he can take this boat away from you because he has a right to it, or he would not be following us." "He has no right to it, and he will not be able to take it." "See, Frank! What is the fellow going to---- Look out!" On the steamer Flynn had been seen to hastily unbutton his mackintosh, jerk something bright out of his hip pocket and point it toward the yacht. It was a revolver. Jack Diamond realized the desperate fellow's purpose, and he caught hold of Frank Merriwell and gave him a push that threw him to the deck beside the wheel. There was a flash of fire from the revolver, a puff of smoke, and then a bullet whistled over the yacht, striking the water beyond. "Well, of all the foolhardy, cowardly tricks, I believe that takes the premium!" said Frank, as he arose and grasped the wheel again. "That man is drunk or crazy!" The moment Flynn fired, Snell took to his heels and scudded out of sight, disappearing on the other side of the steamer. Flynn hastily put up his revolver, shook his fist toward the yacht, and then followed Snell, both of them getting out of the way before anyone, attracted by the sound of the shot, came aft to investigate. The big paddlewheels of the steamer were in motion again, and she was forging on her course, as if nothing had happened. Frank brought the _White Wings_ round and set his course to follow as closely as the wind would allow. In a short time the steamer was almost out of sight in the thin mist that hung over the water where there was no fog. Then, at last, Hans Dunnerwust came puffing and stumbling on deck, fairly loaded down with life-preservers. He fell at the head of the companion way, and the life-preservers flew all over the deck. "Put me onto them kvick!" he squealed. "Uf I don'd haf a life breserfer on ven der yocht sinks you vos a goner!" The boys laughed at his ludicrous appearance, and he sat up on the deck, staring around blankly. "Vere dot sdeampoat vos?" he asked, in astonishment. "Why, the steamer is a mile away by this time," said Hodge. "If she had run into us, we'd been at the bottom long before this," laughed Frank. "You are too slow, Hans." "Vale, I done your duty, anyhow," sturdily declared the Dutch boy. "You don'd got me to makin' no mistake in dot." Then he was set to gathering up the life preservers and carrying them below again. The encounter with the steamer and the desperate action of Parker Flynn furnished food for conversation on board the yacht. The boys talked it over and over, and it was the general opinion that the presence of Flynn and Snell in company on the steamer was not an accident. "We'll see more of those fellows before long," prophesied Diamond. "And it strikes me that Flynn is more dangerous than Snell, for he is a desperate fellow. If he had shot anybody on this boat there was no way of making it seem an accident. When Snell pushed you in front of the car he could have sworn it was an accident if the car had killed you. Look out for Parker Flynn." "I will," said Merriwell. It was nearly nine o'clock before they rounded Owl's Head and pointed into Rockland harbor. The mist still hung on the water, and the outlines of the city were hidden. Frank, however, felt confident that he was all right. "We'll take dinner ashore if you say so, fellows," he said. "Oh, I don't know," said Jack. "I don't believe these natives down in this country know how to cook anything fit to eat." Frank smiled. "I fancy you have a few notions that will be knocked out of your head after you have been down this way a short time. You still seem to fancy you are going into a howling wilderness where there are only savages and half-civilized white people." "Perhaps we are," said Jack, by way of being odd. "You don't know yourself, for this is your first visit down here." Out through the mist came a tiny steam launch. All at once it was headed straight toward the _White Wings_. "She acts as if she is coming for us," said Hodge, scowling. As the launch came nearer five persons were seen in her. The interest of the boys increased rapidly, for everything seemed to indicate that she was making straight for the yacht. All at once Diamond uttered a cry, turned to Frank and said: "I knew it! I told you we'd see more of him! See the fellow in the bow of that launch? It's Parker Flynn!" CHAPTER V. A BOARDING PARTY. "Sure as shooting!" nodded Frank. "He is in a hurry to see me--that's plain." "Yes, he couldn't wait till we got into the harbor." "It's probable he thought we might not come into Rockland after seeing him on the steamer, and so, as soon as he could get ashore, he hired the launch to run out and head us off." "Snell is with him," said Hodge. "Oh, I'd like to get a crack at that fellow!" "You may have a chance," smiled Merriwell, coolly. "How?" "I don't propose to let those chaps come aboard my yacht unless they show that they have a right to do so." "Good for you!" cried Bart, his face growing stern. "I am with you, Merry!" "And I!" exclaimed Diamond. "Vale, I don'd knew but I vos re'dy vor a liddle schraps," observed Hans. "Then we will stand by to repel boarders if they try the trick," said Frank. "Call Browning on deck." So the big Yale man was called, and he came up in his shirt sleeves. He was interested immediately the situation was explained to him, and he seemed well pleased when Frank expressed his intention of preventing the strangers from boarding without authority. "This promises to be a real warm morning," he said, with a lazy smile. "I'm rather glad I'm here." By this time the launch was close at hand. "Ahoy the yacht!" called a voice. "Ay! ay!" called back Merriwell, in true nautical style. "On board the launch, what's wanted?" "Lay to. We have business with you." "Keep off. We haven't time to bother with you." "Don't act foolish!" was the angry exclamation. "If you do, you will be sorry!" "If you bother us without a legal right you will be sorry," flung back Frank. "We are not to be trifled with this morning." The launch made a circle and swung round so that she was heading in the same direction as the yacht. "If you don't lay to," said the spokesman on board the launch, "we'll run alongside and board you." "Try it. You will find the warmest job you ever struck!" "Why, you will not resist officers of the law?" "Not if we know the officers have authority." "Well, we have the authority, so head up into the wind." "You say you have authority, but I do not even know you are an officer. In fact, judging by the company you are in, I should take you for anything else." There were muttered words on the launch, savage, suppressed oaths and a stir that was significant. "They do mean to run alongside and board!" exclaimed Diamond. "Are you still in for keeping them off, Merry?" "You bet!" nodded Frank, grimly. "If I decide otherwise, I will give you the word in time." Bruce Browning began to roll up his sleeves, baring his brawny arms. There was a flush on his face and an eager look in his eyes. "Some of those gentlemen will take a bath this morning," he said. Both Diamond and Hodge flung aside their coats. The men on the launch saw these significant movements and could not misunderstand them. They were surprised by the attitude of the crew of the _White Wings_. "You fools!" cried the spokesman of the party, who had a full black beard. "You will get yourselves jailed if you make any resistance. I am Sheriff Ulmer, of Rockland!" "Where is your badge?" demanded Frank. "Show that." The man who claimed to be the sheriff hesitated. "He can't do it!" muttered Hodge, triumphantly. "I have papers to serve on you," said the black-bearded man. "You can serve them when I come ashore," returned Frank. "I am going into the harbor, and I shall be ashore in thirty minutes after dropping anchor." "But you are on a stolen yacht, and I am here to take possession of it." "I am not on a stolen yacht, and I do not mean that you shall take possession of it unless you have the right to do so. This yacht belongs to me. I bought it and paid for it with good money, and I mean to hold it. If you really are Sheriff Ulmer, which I am inclined to doubt, you have been deceived by that rascal in the bow of the launch. He holds a worthless bill of sale of this boat, which, if it is not a forgery, was made out by a crazy man who did not own the boat at the time." "It's a lie!" snarled Flynn. "The bill of sale is all right, and we're going to take that yacht!" "You will have to fight for her, if you do!" "If you fight, you fool, you will go to jail. There is a first-class jail in Rockland, too." "I'll take my chances of going to jail. Keep off! This is a fair warning." By this time the launch was close to the yacht, and the faces of all the persons in the small boat could be seen and studied. Wat Snell was pale, and it was plain he did not relish his position. With the fellow who claimed to be sheriff was a hang-dog looking chap who looked like a fighter. The man who was running the launch acted as if he had no intention of taking any part in the fight, if one should occur. It was plain he had been hired to set the others on board the _White Wings_, and he did not mean to do anything more than that. "Hans!" called Frank, "take the wheel and hold her steady as she is. You will get out of the scrimmage, and I want to have a hand in that." Hans took the wheel, and Frank prepared to take a hand in the repulse if the enemy tried to board. The man in the launch who had claimed to be sheriff stood up and waved his clinched fist above his head. "In the name of the law, I command you to surrender!" he shouted. "Show your authority," calmly returned Merriwell. "Here it is--the bill of sale of that yacht." "That is no authority. Do you think you can bluff us because we are young? You will find you have made a big mistake." "Board them!" cried Flynn. "Take the yacht! That is the only way to do it!" "You will find that is a mighty hard way to do it!" grated Bart Hodge. "Come on, Snell! I want to get at you!" The launch ran alongside the yacht, and the man with the fellow who claimed to be the sheriff caught the rail of the _White Wings_ with a boat hook. "Come on!" roared the black-whiskered chap. "Stand by to repel boarders!" rang out Frank's clear voice. CHAPTER VI. THE STRUGGLE FOR THE YACHT. The big man with the whiskers was the first to make an attempt to reach the deck of the yacht. He gave a leap that landed him on the rail. Then Bruce Browning picked him up and tossed him back into the launch. The man was surprised, but he made another rush to get onto the _White Wings_. In the meantime Parker Flynn had tried to get aboard, but had been struck on the jaw by Merriwell's hard fist and knocked back into the launch. Snell started to climb over the rail of the yacht, but tumbled back of his own accord when Hodge made a rush for him. The hang-dog-appearing chap was the spryest man on the launch. With a catlike leap, he cleared the rail of the _White Wings_ and reached the deck. He found himself face to face with Jack Diamond, and a second later they clinched. "You are not wanted here!" exclaimed Jack. "But I'm going to stay here!" said the other. Diamond was strong and smart, but he found his hands full. Had he not taken the chap at a slight disadvantage in getting the first hold, the stranger would have been his master. As it was, they slipped and staggered about the deck, the stranger struggling to break Jack's hold. In his excitement, Hans failed to hold the yacht steadily on her course, as Frank had directed, and suddenly she swung, so the main boom swept across the deck. It struck Diamond's antagonist on the back of the head and stunned him for a moment. That moment was long enough for Jack to lift him and drop him over into the launch. Hans sent over the wheel and brought the yacht back, so the boom swung out of the way, but his negligence had aided Diamond to a large extent. On falling back into the boat, Snell had scrambled up and stood snarling at Hodge, who was urging him to come within reach. "Oh, I do want to get my hands on you!" said Bart. "I'll give you something to remember me by, you sneaking cur!" "You are a sneak yourself!" cried Snell, "or you would not be hanging around with Frank Merriwell after he licked you and got the best of you in everything you did!" "It is a compliment to be called a sneak by you, you coward! Come up here! Let me give you a black eye!" But Snell kept just out of reach, although he made several bluff attempts to board the _White Wings_. Probably the most astonished man was the big fellow with the black whiskers. He realized that Browning had handled him easily and carelessly, but still it did not seem possible that the rather fleshy, smooth-faced chap could have much strength, large as he was. "Better stay down there," advised Bruce. "Next time I shall throw you farther." "Next time you won't throw me at all!" came from the professed sheriff, as he made another spring for the yacht. It seemed that Bruce caught him on the fly. Now the big fellow was fully aroused, and he swung the stranger over his head and gave him a terrific heave. The man whirled through the air, passed clean over the launch, struck the water beyond and disappeared from view. At that very moment Frank Merriwell got another crack at Parker Flynn, who had not learned his lesson by his first experience, and again tried to board. Smack!--the blow sounded, and, with a groan, Flynn dropped down into the launch. The man who was running the launch seemed satisfied, for he suddenly let go with the boat hook, and the yacht swung away from her foe. The self-styled sheriff came to the surface and was pulled aboard the launch. The ducking seemed to have taken the spirit out of him. He glared at the yacht, but all his eagerness to board her seemed gone. Parker Flynn sat up and swore, holding onto his aching jaw. He had not realized that there was a set of fighters on board the _White Wings_, although Wat Snell had warned him to that effect. Now he realized that the yacht could not easily be captured in the manner in which he had attempted to accomplish the feat. The meeting of Flynn and Snell came about in this way. Snell, on finding Frank and his friends were in Boston, had played the spy on the party. He followed them to the pier the morning they went aboard the _White Wings_, and he saw the encounter between Frank and Flynn. When Flynn left the pier, Snell followed and spoke to him. After that it did not take Wat long to work into the good graces of Flynn. Infuriated by his failure to obtain possession of the yacht, Flynn proceeded to get drunk and stay so. On the second day of his spree, he determined to pursue Merriwell and take the yacht by force, if it could not be obtained in any other manner. Then he hunted up Snell, and it was not hard to induce Wat to accompany him. Flynn knew the "poker gang" in Rockland, and he knew there were a few desperate fellows among those who made up the gang. He had "dropped his roll" in Rockland once when he struck the town with an idea in his head that he was "getting against a lot of jays," and on that occasion he became friendly with Peter McSwatt and Hunk Gardman. Gardman did not belong in Rockland, but he came in frequently from an adjoining town to play poker. He was a crook and a sneak, and he showed it in his face. McSwatt was not quite as "smooth" as Gardman; he could not "handle the cards" as well, but he could sit in a game with Gardman and play what his crooked pal dealt him, so that, after every game, there was usually an ill-gotten pot to be divided. If there was any trouble, McSwatt did the fighting. Flynn telephoned McSwatt and told him when he would be in Rockland, asking to be met at the boat by McSwatt and a good man who would stand by in a scrap. He ended by saying there was good money in it, and his offered inducements led McSwatt and Gardman to be on hand at the time set. Flynn was still under the influence of liquor. Had it been otherwise, he would not have fired at the _White Wings_ from the deck of the _City of Bangor_. On arriving in Rockland, he found his chosen tools waiting for him, and he explained that the yacht _White Wings_ had been stolen from him. To convince McSwatt and Gardman, he showed the bill of sale which he held. He explained that he could not afford the time to recover the boat by regular process of law, and said that it would be an easy thing to take it from the boys who were on board. He showed money and paid his tools something in advance. A few drinks of liquor put them in the mood for almost anything, and then the steam launch was hired to go out in search of the _White Wings_, as Flynn feared the yacht might not come into Rockland at all. The owner of the launch was convinced that Flynn really owned the yacht, and had a right to take her by force if necessary, but he did not agree to have anything to do with the seizing of the boat further than putting the party alongside. Snell had warned Flynn that the party on the _White Wings_ was made up of fighters, but the man sneered at them as a lot of boys. It was not believed that there would be any real difficulty in obtaining possession of the yacht, but it was thought best that McSwatt should claim to be an officer. Thus it came about that the _White Wings_ was met by the steam launch as she headed into Rockland harbor. But the crew on board the launch met with the surprise of their lives, and they were thoroughly disgusted when they were beaten off without much difficulty. The two cracks Frank had given Flynn knocked some of the conceit and bravado out of him, and for some time after the yacht and the launch swung apart he sat still and swore. McSwatt was not in a pleasant mood as he wrung the water out of his clothes. He glared at Flynn and snarled: "Thought you said they were a lot of boys who could be scared out of their skins! Boys! Why, they are young devils! The fellow I went against is a regular Samson!" "They're in a bad scrape now," said Flynn, with an attempt at fierceness. "They have resisted the rightful owner of that yacht, and they shall smart for it." "That's all right, but they might have been fooled in a different way. Here they are running right into the harbor, and they will stop there. We might have watched till the most of them went ashore, and then we could have taken her easily." "How did I know they would run in here? They might have kept on up the bay. And I didn't suppose a lot of beardless chaps could put up such a scrap." "Well, we have done all you asked of us, and we want our pay." "Done! You haven't done anything! I hired you to help me take the yacht." "And misrepresented the case to us. You will pay me, or I'll chuck you overboard!" There was a glare in McSwatt's eyes that cowed Flynn. "Oh, we mustn't quarrel," he quickly said. "Of course, I will pay you, as I agreed." "I thought so." "And I will double the sum if you stand by me a while longer. I tell you I can't fool with those chaps--I can't waste time. I must get possession of my boat at once." "Well, if you are thinking of attempting to board her again, you'll have to get somebody in my place. I have had enough of that kind of work." Flynn saw that McSwatt meant it. "All right," he growled. "We'll stay out and keep watch of her till she drops anchor. I want to be sure they mean to stop here." So the launch cruised about, keeping in sight of the _White Wings_ till the yacht ran slowly into the harbor and let fall her anchor in the vicinity of half a dozen other pleasure yachts laying near together. CHAPTER VII. ARRESTED IN ROCKLAND. There were some indignant lads on board the _White Wings_. "A regular case of piracy!" declared Diamond. "If we had not been too much for that gang, they would have seized the boat." "Sure," nodded Hodge, whose eyes were gleaming, while his breast, across which his arms were folded, rose and fell with excitement. "We handled them too easy," grunted Browning. "It would have served them right if we had split the skull of every man who tried to come over our rail." "Der pig poom come britty near sblitting der skull uf one," grinned Hans. "You pet dot chap half a swelt head on me." Frank had returned to the wheel. He did not say much, but his cheeks were flushed with excitement and his lips were pressed together. "Remember what the truckman told you, Merry?" questioned Diamond. "What was that?" "Why, about this boat being hoodooed." "Yes." "It begins to look as if he was right." "Oh, I don't know." "Well, if this hasn't been a hoodoo cruise from Boston, I don't know a thing!" "It has been rather eventful," admitted Frank, his face relaxing somewhat. "Uf you vos lookin' oxcitement for, we haf found him," put in Hans. "Those chaps are keeping watch of us now," said Frank. "I suppose they think of trying the trick again." "Don't believe they will," said Hodge. "We'll be in the harbor pretty soon, and they won't dare make another attempt like that." As they ran in the mist lifted and vanished, and they saw the city stretched before them. To the north was the breakwater that protects the harbor, and away in the distance loomed some mountains. "What are those hills there?" asked Diamond. "Those are the famous Camden mountains," answered Frank. "The town lies at the foot of those mountains, and Thomas Wentworth Higginson says the scenery in the vicinity of Camden is the most varied and beautiful to be found anywhere in the world." "Are we going to stop at Camden?" "Well, that is on the program. We'll run up there to-morrow." They anchored near the other yachts and vessels, purposely running into the very midst of them. "As long as one of us stays on board, those chaps will not attempt to seize the yacht by force while we remain here," said Merriwell. "Don't be too sure of that," warned Hodge. "They are desperate characters, and there is no telling what they will try." They watched the launch run into a wharf and saw the party leave her. Not one of the baffled boarders remained in the vicinity, but all quickly disappeared. "I believe they are afraid of the consequences now," said Merry. "They are getting out of the way in a hurry." It was not long before the others were of the same opinion. However, Frank was not certain but this movement on the part of the enemy was a ruse to lull their suspicions. "Three of us will remain on the yacht," he said. "Jack and I are going ashore." "How?" asked Diamond. "We have no boat, and we are anchored off here in the bay." "I am going to buy a boat here. I think we can get one of the boats from some of these vessels to set us ashore." The nearest vessel was hailed, and it did not take long to get a sailor with a boat to come over to the yacht and take Frank and Jack off. He rowed them to the steamboat wharf, and would not take a cent for doing so. "All right, mates," he said, in a hearty way. "I'll want a turn sometime, perhaps." Then, after telling them that, if they did not get a boat, they could whistle him up and he would bring them off to their yacht, he rowed away. There were a number of truck teams about the wharf, loading with the freight left there that morning by the steamer. Frank inquired of one of the truckmen where to find a man who would sell them a first-class rowboat, and the truckman directed him to a man who had boats to let and to sell. This man the boys sought without delay, but he was not at his shop. They were told that he had gone uptown, and so they walked up Sea Street into the heart of the city. As they came out on Main Street, Diamond halted with an exclamation of astonishment. "Great Scott!" burst from his lips. "Is this real?" "Is what real?" asked Frank. "Do I really see a trolley car running along the street here, or am I dreaming?" "Oh, come along!" laughed Frank. "They have trolley cars down in this country, and I don't think it looks quite as wild and uncivilized as you expected." They entered the Thorndike Hotel together, and, just as they passed through the door, Frank suddenly clutched his friend's arm, giving a gasp of astonishment himself. Jack saw Merry was staring toward the flight of stairs. He looked up, and there on the stairs, descending toward them, were two girls, Inza Burrage and Paula Benjamin! Merriwell recovered his composure immediately and stepped forward to meet the girls at the foot of the stairs, accompanied by Diamond. The boys lifted their hats, and Frank said: "Another unexpected pleasure! We didn't dream of this. Supposed you were in Bar Harbor." The girls shook hands with them, and both seemed to show confusion. "It is a pleasure," declared Inza. "We are stopping here in Rockland a few days." Frank longed to ask questions, but he knew it would be an act of rudeness, and he refrained. However, Paula seemed to think that Inza's explanation was not sufficient, and she added: "Yes, we decided to stop off here a day, and we are so interested with the city and the surrounding country that we will remain a little longer." "That will be pleasant," said Frank. "We've just got in, and are rather salty now, but we mean to brace up and get some of the brine out of us. Perhaps we may have the pleasure of seeing you often while we remain here." "I hope we may," put in Jack, quickly, looking earnestly at Paula, who let her eyes droop before his gaze. "I am sure it will be agreeable to us," smiled Inza. "Tell us something about your voyage. Did you have a nice time?" "Nice isn't any name for it," laughed Frank. "That's right," nodded Jack; "it isn't." "We have encountered excitements galore." "Such as fogs and storms and steamboats and pirates." "Mercy! Pirates!" "Well, they attempted to board us and seize the yacht." "What did you do?" "We gave them a jolly good welcome." A uniformed policeman entered the hotel and stepped up to the boys. "Which one of you is Frank Merriwell?" he asked. "I am, sir," said Frank. "Then," said the officer, "I shall have to take you." "Take me?" cried Frank. "What do you mean?" "I mean that you are under arrest." CHAPTER VIII. A STIR IN LIMEROCK CITY. Both girls uttered a little cry of amazement and alarm, and Paula shrank close to Inza, clasping her about the waist. "Under arrest?" repeated Frank, slowly. "For what?" "Stealing a yacht and resisting the real owner when he attempted to regain possession of it." Merry laughed heartily. "This is a joke!" he exclaimed. The officer seemed puzzled, but he frowned at Frank, saying: "You are not likely to find it a joke, young man. It is a serious offense, and, if you have not some rich folks who will settle handsomely for your little lark, you will go to jail." "My dear sir," said Merriwell, with perfect coolness, "you are taking too much for granted. You are standing on the ground that the charge against me is true. It will be the easiest thing in the world to prove that it is not." "You will have to prove that to the judge," said the officer, with his hand on Frank's shoulder. "Just now you'll have to accompany me. If you resist or make any trouble, it will be worse for you." He produced handcuffs. "What do you mean to do?" hoarsely demanded Diamond, his eyes bulging. "You're not going to handcuff him?" "It is necessary. I am not taking any chances. A chap who will steal a yacht is liable to be pretty desperate." "I will go along with you quietly," said Frank, paling a bit at the thought of being led shackled through the streets. "I give you my word on that." "It's an outrage!" cried Diamond. "I advise you to keep still," said the officer, sternly. "You may be arrested as an accomplice." "I don't care if I am!" came fiercely from Jack's lips. "I say it is an outrage, and I will stand by it. Mr. Merriwell purchased the yacht and paid his money for it, as he can prove. He is the rightful owner of the boat." "I am not going to discuss that." The officer was about to put the irons on Frank, when Jack cut in with: "Have a little decency about this, Mr. Officer. If you believe this young man such a desperate fellow, call an assistant. Surely two of you ought to be able to take him to the lockup without handcuffing him." The policeman was angry, and Frank saw that what Jack was saying was not making things any better, so he asked his friend to be quiet. Then he said something in a low tone to the officer. The latter hesitated. "Put yourself in my place," said Frank. "You are not sure this charge is true. Think how you would feel to be dragged along the street with irons on your wrists when you had not been guilty of committing a crime." "And he tells you the truth, sir, when he says he bought the yacht," broke in Inza, fearlessly. "I know it! He purchased it of my friend's brother." "That is true," spoke up Paula, with sudden braveness. "My brother sold him the yacht. He never stole it! Why, he is Frank Merriwell, of Yale, and everybody knows Frank Merriwell would not steal anything." She was startled by her own boldness, but her words brought about a good result. Of course, the arrest of Frank had attracted the attention of all who were in the office of the hotel, among whom were several commercial men. One of the latter stepped forward quickly. "Frank Merriwell, of Yale?" he exclaimed. "Is this the famous Yale pitcher? By Jove, it is! I have seen him pitch several games, but I didn't know him in this yachting suit. Mr. Merriwell, I am glad to see you, but sorry you are in trouble. However, if I can aid you in any way, you may count on me." "Thank you," said Frank. "It's pleasant to know I am not quite unknown and friendless down here." "Unknown!" exclaimed another man. "If you are Frank Merriwell, we all know about you. We have read about you in the papers. You are the best known college man in this country. Officer, I don't believe this young gentleman is either a thief or a desperado. If he says he will go along with you, I'll vouch for him." "If you say so, Mr. Franch----" "I do. I will be responsible for him." The officer put his handcuffs out of sight. "All right," he said. "Come along, young man." By this time the report had gone abroad that there had been an arrest in the Thorndike, and a crowd was gathering outside the door. In the crowd were a number of excited small boys, for they had heard that the person arrested was the famous Yale football and baseball player, Frank Merriwell. One of the boys in the crowd saw a friend on the opposite side of the street, and yelled: "Hey, Charley, get a wiggle on an' come over here! W'at yer t'ink! Ther cop has nabbed that feller we've been readin' about--Frank Merriwell!" "Aw! w'at yer givin' us!" flung back the other. "This ain't no fust of April!" "It's dead straight, Charley! Frank Merriwell is right here in ther Thorndike, an' Old Briggs has pinched him. Don't yer want ter see him?" "Don't I?" gasped the one across the street, as he bolted from the sidewalk. "I'd rudder see Frank Merriwell than have a season ticket to der ball games!" And he could not get over quick enough. By the time the officer was ready to bring Frank out of the hotel, all the men and boys outside knew who had been arrested, and the excitement was great. The crowd grew swiftly, and everybody was eager to get a look at the Yale athlete of whom they had heard such wonderful stories. The young men of the town were no less excited than the boys. There was scarcely one of them who did not know something about Frank Merriwell and his record, and, even before they could find out why he had been arrested, they denounced the arrest as an outrage. Another policeman came along and attempted to clear the sidewalk in front of the hotel, but the crowd did not want to disperse. The officer who had arrested Frank came out with Merriwell at his side, a hand on his arm. "There he is!" was the cry that went up. "That is Frank Merriwell!" Jack Diamond, who walked beside Frank, was amazed at the crowd and to hear them call Frank's name. "They know you, Merriwell," he said. "It seems so," said Frank, with a faint smile. "It's a shame!" cried one of the young men. "What's he arrested for?" "Don't know," admitted another; "but I'll bet my clothes he is all right! Frank Merriwell is on the level!" "That's so!" shouted twenty voices. The crowd followed the officer and his prisoner. Somebody proposed a cheer for Frank Merriwell, and it seemed that every human being in that following crowd cheered as loudly as he could. Then somebody proposed three groans for Old Briggs, the officer, and the crowd groaned in a most dismal manner. Some of the small boys grew so excited that they kept yelling at Briggs to let Frank go. But they were scarcely less excited than the lads of eighteen or twenty. A dozen of them got together and actually talked of taking Briggs' prisoner from him. In their enthusiasm they might have tried it, but for the coolness of one or two among them. "It's a blamed shame to have this thing happen in Rockland!" declared one fellow. "What will Merriwell think of us? He will be dead sore on this town." "He isn't a fool," said a cooler head. "If he is all right, it isn't likely that any harm will come to him. He can't blame Briggs for doing his duty if there is a warrant for his arrest." So Frank was marched away to the lockup, but his arrest had created more excitement in the city than any other event since the opening game of baseball in the Knox County League, July Fourth. Frank was locked in a cell. Jack did not leave him till the door had closed on his friend. The boys had found out that the warrant for Frank's arrest was sworn out by Parker Flynn. "He shall pay dearly for this piece of business!" muttered the young Virginian, as he left the lockup. The crowd that still lingered in front of the building stared at Jack. They had seen him with Merriwell, and they knew he must be one of Frank's particular friends. The small boys envied him for that very reason. Diamond had learned that Merriwell would have a hearing before a local judge at two o'clock that afternoon, and he resolved to do whatever he could for his friend before that time. But Diamond had not left Frank thirty minutes before there were two visitors to see the prisoner. They were admitted by the guard, and Merriwell was staggered when he saw the face of one of them. "Jack Benjamin?" he cried. "It can't be!" "But it is," declared the little fellow, as he grasped Merry's hand and shook it warmly. "But--but----" "You're astonished--exactly. I don't wonder. Folks at home think me on the way to Alaska. The governor thinks so. As long as he thinks that, he won't interfere with my little outing down this way." "But the deception--I don't understand it." "Expect I'd better make a clean breast to you," said Benjamin, blushing in a remarkable manner. "You see, it's this way: Last year at Newport I met a young lady on whom I got badly smashed. She's a star, Merriwell--she's the only one for me! But the old man--excuse me--the governor objected, said I was too young to know my mind, and all that rot. He found out the girl's folks were not very rich, and then he set about raising the high dinkey-dink with everything. Well, the result was that he did smash things for a time. This summer, when I wanted to spend my vacation down in Maine, he sat down on it hard. You see, he did so because the young lady lives here in Rockland. I was forced to give up the idea--apparently. But I began to talk about Alaska. Then I sold you the _White Wings_ to get enough money for my summer outing, left word that I was off for Alaska, and came down here. That's the whole of it. Here I am." "Then I understand how it happens your sister and Inza are stopping in Rockland. She knows you are here." "Sure. Sis is all right. She sticks by me." Thus far Frank had paid no attention to his second visitor, but now the fellow stepped forward, saying: "Howdy-do, Merriwell. I suppose you know me?" "What?" cried Frank, grasping the extended hand. "Is it Fred Moslof, of Dartmouth? What are you doing down here? I haven't seen you since our opening game last spring, when you spoiled two daisy hits for me by digging them out of the dirt down around third bag." Moslof laughed. "I am playing ball down here this summer," he said. "Well, that is a surprise. Are you playing on the Rockland team?" "No, I am manager of the Camdens. As soon as Benjamin told me you were here, we came right up. I played with Rockland last summer, and I know stacks of influential men in both Rockland and Camden. I'll fix this matter of bail for you and get you out of here in a hurry, if you like." "Well, that is kind of you," smiled Frank, "and I appreciate it. I shall be glad to accept your offer, old man." "Then it is settled," said Benjamin. "Moslof can do the trick. It may take an hour or two to fix it, but we'll see that it's done. Just make yourself easy." When they departed, they left Frank in good spirits, for he knew he could easily refute the charge of stealing the yacht, for Benjamin was there in Rockland to substantiate his statements. Merriwell was resolved to settle that matter and then make it very warm for Mr. Parker Flynn. It took something more than an hour for Moslof and Benjamin to fix things, but they finally returned to the lockup, accompanied by an officer with an order for Frank's release. Merriwell told them all about Flynn's attempt to obtain possession of the yacht by force, and then he accompanied them to the office of a justice of the peace, where he swore out a warrant against Flynn and saw it placed in the hands of an officer to be served. "We'll give that gentleman the surprise of his life," smiled Benjamin. "He won't expect to see me down here. If he had not thought me on my way to Alaska, he would not have dared attempt such a high-handed proceeding." Moslof said that he must return to Camden. He had come down to confer with the Rockland and Thomaston managers about the schedule, and he had finished his business. At parting he said: "Look here, Merriwell, can't you pitch one or two games for us, if no more. Camden has a better team than Rockland, but Rockland is stronger in the box. We started out with a lead the first of the season, but we've been dropping games to Rockland right along lately, and we won't be in it if the thing keeps on. I have telegraphed and telephoned all over the country for a strong pitcher, but I haven't got hold of the right man. You'd be just the man for us. Why, you would paralyze Rockland with that double-shoot of yours." "Well, old man," said Frank, "I hate to refuse you anything after what you have done, but you know I want no part in professional baseball." "This is only semi-professional. Part of our team are not under salary, and nearly all are college players." "I might get myself into trouble if I pitched, Moslof. I can't promise." "Well, promise me that you will pitch for Camden if you pitch at all in the Knox County League." "I'll do that," smiled Merry; "but you must not expect me to pitch at all." Moslof was forced to be satisfied with that. At least, he knew Rockland would not secure Merriwell, and that was some satisfaction, as he had heard rumors that the Rockland management meant to have the famous Yale twirler, if he was to be procured for love or money. Frank accompanied Benjamin back to the Thorndike, where he was received with great delight by Inza, Paula and Inza's aunt, Miss Abigail Gale. "I didn't dare tell you Jack was here when we first met," said Paula; "but when that horrid policeman took you away, I just hurried to let him know what had happened. He said he would have you out all right in a short time." "Well, he kept his word, and now I am after the fellow who put this job up on me. I have sworn out a warrant for his arrest, and he will find himself in my place before night." Frank remained at the hotel thirty minutes chatting with the girls and Miss Gale, and then he said that he must return to the yacht and let his friends know he was all right. On his way to the wharf, Frank called at the shop of the boat builder again, and found the man in. He was pleased to learn that the man had two boats for sale, both of which were in the water. After looking the boats over, Merry made a bargain for one of them and paid for it. Then he got into the boat, rowed out round the wharf and pulled away for the yacht. As he approached the yacht, Hans came on deck, saw him and raised a shout that brought the others up in a hurry. All were astonished and delighted to see Frank. Jack had been there and told them what had happened; then he had hurried away to see if he could do anything for Merriwell. Frank told them the story of his release, and, as it was midday, he stayed on board to eat a hearty meal. While they were eating, Jack returned, having been taken to the yacht by a boatman he had hired. "Knew you must be here!" cried the Virginian. "I was making a hustle to get you out when I heard you were out already. Why, I never saw a place like this, Frank! Everybody in town has heard of you, and everybody was furious over your arrest. Why, this is a great country, boys! I'm stuck on it already. The people down here are all right!" "Not quite such jays and hayseeds as you thought, eh?" smiled Frank. "I tell you they are all right! They are not jays at all!" After dinner the boys left Browning and Dunnerwust on the yacht to guard it and then went ashore. Barely had Frank appeared in the city before the manager of the Rockland baseball team fell on him and offered him all sorts of inducements to pitch for his nine. But it was no use, for Merry had given Moslof his promise. Frank expected to hear that Flynn had been arrested. Instead, he learned that neither Flynn nor Snell could be found, so the warrant had not been served. It was supposed that Flynn would be on hand when court was called to order that afternoon, but he did not appear, and so the charge against Frank was dismissed, as there was no one to push it. Later it was learned that in some way Flynn had learned that Jack Benjamin was in Rockland. As soon as he heard this, he made all haste to get out of the place, taking an electric car to Camden, where he had disappeared as completely as if wiped off the face of the earth. "But I do not believe you have heard or seen the last of the fellow, Merriwell," said Hodge. "He will bother you again." Bart's words were destined to come true. CHAPTER IX. ALONG THE COAST TO CAMDEN. "Nellie was a sailor's lass--a sailor's lass was she, (Heave ho, my lads, then heave away!) Waiting for her sailor lad, who sailed the deep blue sea. (Heave ho, my lads, then heave away!)" Three lads were getting up the anchor on board the _White Wings_, which lay in Rockland harbor, on the coast of Maine, and they sang a nautical song as they pulled at the cable. They were Bart Hodge, Jack Diamond and Hans Dunnerwust. Frank Merriwell was busy making other preparations for the run up to Camden that glorious summer morning, while Bruce Browning was doing something below, no one knew what. "Holdt on a vile till you spit on my handts," exclaimed the Dutch lad, breathing heavily. "I vant to got a petter holdt mit my feet to kept from slipping der rail ofer und der varter indo. I vas glad you don'd af to bull ub anchors to make me a lifings." "Keep at it, Hans," ordered Hodge. "You remind me of the Irishman who caught his friend by the heels just as the friend was falling headlong into a well," said Diamond, as he continued to pull away. "How vas dot?" asked Hans. "He held on as long as he could," said Jack, "and then he called down to his friend, 'Jist wait a minute where yez are, Mike, till Oi let go an' get a betther hold.' Then he let go." "Yaw," said Hans, soberly; "but I don'd seen der boint der story of." "His friend couldn't wait," explained Jack. Frank Merriwell laughed. Never before had he heard the Virginian tell a humorous anecdote, and he was not a little surprised as well as pleased, for it showed that Jack, who had grumbled a great deal during the unlucky and unpleasant cruise down the coast, was in better spirits now they were at last in the waters of Penobscot Bay. The anchor broke water and was soon secured in place. Already the jib had been raised, and Frank was at the wheel to bring the yacht round as soon as she felt the breeze after the anchor was atrip. Every indication was that there was just breeze enough outside the harbor to give them a pleasant sail to their destination. Under Frank's orders the boys set sail, hoisting both the jib topsails and club topsails; in fact, cracking on every stitch. Hans grew weary again before the mainsail was up. "Get hold of the halyards and get into gear, Dunnerwust," ordered Bart, sharply. "You are getting to be as bad as Browning, and he is no earthly use on the water." "Hey?" grunted the big fellow, his head appearing as he came up from below. "Well, what's the use of being any earthly use on the water? What's the matter with you, Hodge?" "The matter with you is that you need something for that tired feeling," returned Bart, like a flash. "If you would get out and make a bluff at pulling on a line now and then, it would seem rather more decent." "I never make any bluffs. Everything is on the level with me. I'm not much of a sailor, but I'm pretty good at repelling boarders, ducking bogus sheriffs and such things. Don't worry about me. Just go ahead getting under way. I'll be with you." Then he calmly watched them get all the sails set, as if he did not consider it necessary for him to lend a hand, and as if he had no idea of doing so on any condition if he could avoid it. Browning was lazy, and he knew it. He made no attempt to conceal the fact; really, he almost seemed to glory in it. At college he was familiarly called, "the Laziest Man on Earth," and it pleased rather than disturbed him. Ordinarily a lazy man is despised by his companions, but such was not the case with Browning. Genial, big-hearted, strong as a giant, yet gentle as a baby, he made hosts of friends and very few enemies. At one time he had been really ambitious, but that was before the coming of Frank Merriwell to Yale. Browning had been dropped to Merriwell's class and, as there could be but one real leader in the class, he lost his ambition when Merriwell showed his superiority. But no man had proved a truer friend to Merriwell than the once famous "King of the Sophomores." Browning was not particularly demonstrative in his affection, but he could be depended on in any case of emergency, as Frank had learned, and the big fellow was a good man to have for a backer. Browning could not be driven to do anything, nor could he be jollied into it, a fact that irritated Hodge more or less. "There is one thing we do not possess that we should have," said Merry, as Jack came aft and stood near the wheel. "What's that?" "A gun." "Why, you have four or five below." "I don't mean that kind. We need a small cannon to fire when we anchor and when we get under way. We are not doing the thing properly unless we have one." "I never thought of that." "I did not think of it till it was too late to get one in Boston. We'll have to get along for the present without it." They ran past the end of the breakwater and were opposite the Bay Point Hotel, a handsome summer hotel near the city of Rockland. Outside the harbor they found a breeze that made the _White Wings_ heel over and take a bone in her teeth. Although the sloop was not in the racing class, Frank was well satisfied with her, for he had discovered that she possessed many good qualities. She could be held pretty near to the wind without yawing and she was not at all cranky, nor did she require much weather helm. Of course, she could not run as near to the wind as a cutter-rigged yacht of the racing class, but she could do better than the ordinary cutter. The wind was off shore and favorable, so the _White Wings_ seemed to fly that morning. The boys found comfortable positions and enjoyed the sail and the scenery. Soon Rockland was left behind, disappearing from view behind the point on which the hotel sat. And then the Camden mountains began to loom higher and higher to the northwest. "We met a warm reception in Rockland," said Frank. "I wonder how it will be in Camden." The sunshine was bright on the blue bay. The distant islands looked inviting, and there was something about the cool greenness of the woods along the shore that was soothing to the eye. It was not long before Rockport lighthouse came into view. Beyond the lighthouse they saw the narrow harbor and the village, with the houses seeming to cling to the heights that surrounded the harbor. From the limekilns rose black smoke that added to the picturesque charm of the scene. But Rockport was quickly passed and Negro Island, at the mouth of Camden harbor, was before them. There was a lighthouse on the island, standing there like an old woman in a white dress and black cap. Now the mountains, seeming to rise from the very sea, were near at hand and strikingly beautiful, clothed in their summer garments of green. On the top of the nearest mountain stood a hotel with a high observation tower. "Boys," cried Diamond, "I am going up there and stop a week!" "I wonder how anybody ever gets up there," grunted Browning. "I shall not go if I have to climb." "No need to tell us that," said Hodge. "We knew it." As they came abreast Negro Island, two girls came down on the rocks and waved handkerchiefs to them. The boys returned the salute, and Hans Dunnerwust cried: "Vale, uf I ain'd got a mash you vos a liar! Uf id vasn't for gettin' my feets vet, I vould valk ashore righd avay kveek alretty. Yaw!" Then he waved his cap to the girls, kissed his hands, bowed low with his hand on his heart, and nearly fell overboard as Merry suddenly brought the yacht up closer into the wind. "Oxcuse me uf I stayed righd in Camden der rest uf your life," said Hans, as he gathered himself up. "Dalk apout peaches! Vale, vot peen der madder mit dose!" The others smiled at his enthusiasm. Passing the island, they came in full view of the harbor and town. Several vessels and yachts lay in the harbor. Amid the trees the tastily painted, red-roofed cottages were to be seen. Far up at the head of the harbor rose handsome brick buildings. Church spires could be seen here and there. From the flagstaff of a hotel on the heights floated the American flag. On the black rocks under the shadow of the trees that stood far above the shore was a picnic party, the blue smoke of their fire rising from their midst. To the south of the town lay a beautiful cove with a sandy beach. Summer cottages could be seen on the point beyond the cove. To the north of the town was another cove and a heavily wooded point. In an opening of the trees on this point stood white tents. And over all hung the mountains, the village seeming to have clambered up the side of the nearest one as far as it could go. It was a most beautiful and captivating scene that glorious summer morning, and it is not strange that stoical Bart Hodge uttered an exclamation of admiration, while Frank Merriwell cried: "Hurrah, fellows! Here we are, and from the looks of things we'll stay a while. There looms old Mount Megunticook, and here in the harbor, under its shadow, we will anchor. Boys, aren't you glad you came?" "You bet?" cried every one of them. CHAPTER X. TOO WELL KNOWN. Taking care not to strike one of the line of ledges that almost closes the mouth of Camden harbor, they ran in and dropped anchor. From the rocks the picnickers waved white handkerchiefs and called to them. They responded in a similar manner, with a strange lightness and exultant feeling in their hearts. Even Bruce Browning showed enthusiasm, for he could not help imbibing some of the spirit of the occasion. The sails came down with a rattle and were properly and carefully taken care of, a task that consumed time. Then every line was coiled and put in its proper place, and nothing was neglected, so that when Frank's orders had been obeyed, everything about the yacht was ship-shape and in order. Not till he had seen things in order did Frank think of leaving the sloop. Then he asked who would stay on board and who wished to go ashore. Diamond and Hodge were eager to go ashore. Browning and Dunnerwust expressed a willingness to go later, so three of the crew entered the small boat and pulled away up toward the distant wharves at the head of the harbor. They rowed up to a float beside a wharf. Twenty other boats floated about the platform, and a boy was watching them. "May we land here?" asked Frank. "Well, I dunno," said the boy, doubtfully. "Ye see, these bo'ts are to let. Might let yourn if some folks come along an' wanted it." The boy grinned as he finished speaking. "We might come back and want our boat only to find it gone," said Hodge. "Let's not leave it here, Merriwell." The boy gave a jump. "What's your name?" he almost shouted, looking straight at Frank. "It's Frank Merriwell," was the reply. "Frank Merriwell!" yelled the boy, dancing up and down. "Whoop! I heard you was in Rockland! My goodness! won't the fellers be tickled to see you in this town! There ain't a chap here that don't know all about ye! Jest you let me have yer painter! I'll take care of that bo't, an' there don't nobody touch it, you bet!" "Thank you," laughed Frank. "I will pay you for your trouble." "Not by a jugful! Think I'd take any pay of you? No, sir-ee! I'd set right here on this float an' watch your bo't for a week 'thout eatin' or sleepin', an' never charge you a cent! I never 'spected to live to see Frank Merriwell! Oh, Jingoes! won't the fellers be glad to see ye!" The boy took charge of the boat. Just then another boy came onto the wharf, and the boat boy saw him. "Hey, there, Bennie!" he yelled. "What d'yer know? You can't guess it in a year! He's come!" "Who's come?" "Frank Merriwell! Here he is!" The jaw of the boy on the wharf dropped, and he stood staring, open-mouthed at Frank. For some moments he seemed awe stricken, and then, of a sudden, he turned and ran as if for his life, quickly scudding out of sight. "He acted as if he were scared of you, Merry," said Diamond. "He's gone to tell t'other fellers in town," explained the boat boy. "Say," laughed Frank, "this is getting altogether too interesting! I'd rather not be so well known." "Well, you can't help it," said Hodge. "They've all heard of you down this way." "And I had an idea they never heard of anything away down here!" exclaimed Jack. "My ideas of this part of the country are completely upset." "Let's hurry into town," urged Frank. "If we wait, it's ten to one we'll be escorted by a gang of my admirers. I haven't forgotten Rockland." So they left the wharf and hastily walked up Bay View Street. Just as they reached the bank building at the public square they saw a dozen small boys coming down Elm Street on the run, headed by the one who had disappeared so suddenly from the wharf. The moment the running boys saw Merriwell and his companions, they halted and huddled around the leader, who pointed at the three strangers in the place, yelling: "There he is, fellers!" Frank laughed outright, and Hodge and Diamond smiled. The excitement of the boys had attracted more or less notice, and the people on the streets looked at the three young yachtsmen with interest. It was the height of the season at Camden, and the town was literally gorged with summer visitors from every part of the country, so the streets presented a lively appearance. The handsome turnouts of Philadelphia and New York millionaires could be seen, street cars were running, bicycles darting hither and thither, and the pedestrians on the streets nearly all wore clothes suitable for summer outing. After coming up Bay View Street, which, in the neighborhood of the wharves, did not present a very attractive appearance, the young yachtsmen were surprised and pleased to come out to the square, where they could look around and see handsome brick blocks and buildings of which a city might be proud. But the crowd of excited small boys attracted attention for the time. They came a little nearer, and the leader cried: "Let's give three cheers for Frank Merriwell! Ready, now! Yell, fellers, yell!" They did! They threw up their hands, tossed their caps into the air, and yelled as loudly as they could. "Great Scott!" gasped Frank. "See what they have done! Why, everybody on the street is staring at us!" It was true. The spectators had been attracted by the shrill cheers of the small boys, and they were looking toward the three embarrassed lads on the corner by the bank. A man who was passing stopped and asked one of the boys why they were cheering so loudly. "See that handsome feller there with the lace on his suit?" asked the boy, pointing Frank out. "Yes, I see him." "That's Frank Merriwell," declared the boy, excitedly and proudly. "Frank Merriwell?" repeated the man, doubtfully. "Who is he?" "W'at?" yelled the boy, voice and face expressing the greatest amazement and scorn. "Didn't ye never hear of Frank Merriwell? Wat's ther matter with yer? Why don't you go die!" His contempt was crushing and humiliating, and the man passed on, wondering who in the world Frank Merriwell could be that he was so well known and famous. But there were plenty of men and youths who had heard of Merriwell, and the report that the great Yale pitcher was in town flew like wildfire. Only the small boys stared at Frank with absolute rudeness, however. Those older looked at him with interest, but were careful not to make their attentions embarrassing. Merry and his friends walked up into the village, going toward the post office. There were pretty girls on the street, and some of them flashed a brief, admiring glance at the trio of handsome lads in yachting suits. The small boys trooped along behind, talking excitedly among themselves. Their chatter was amusing to hear. "Look here, Jimmy," cried one, in fierce contradiction of a statement made by another, "that ain't so, an' you oughter know it! Harvard never got fourteen hits offen Frank Merriwell in one game!" "Fourteen hits!" yelled another, in derision. "W'at yer givin' us, Jimmy! They never got ten hits offen him in one game! You better go read up about him! You're woozy, that's w'at's ther matter with you!" "That double-shoot of his is w'at paralyzes 'em," put in another. "He can make ther ball cut all kinds of riggers in the air." "That's all right," said Jimmy, sullenly. "Slatridge sez ther ain't no such thing as a double-shoot. He says that 'riginated in ther mind of some of them newspaper fellers w'at's writin' up stories 'bout Frank Merriwell." Then there was a howl of scorn from all the others, and one shook a finger under Jimmy's nose, shouting: "Slatridge knows it all--in his mind! That feller's too tired to play baseball. He can pitch sometimes, but he don't git woke up only when he thinks he's likely to lose his job. Don't you take stock in ev'rything he says." "Fellers," said a tall, solemn-looking boy, out at knees and elbows, "I'd give a hundred thousan' dollars to see Frank Merriwell pitch against Rockland an' use his double-shoot on 'em." "I'd give more'n that to see it, if I jest had the price of admission ter git inter ther game," declared a barefooted boy. "Why don't Moslof nail him?" fiercely demanded a freckle-faced youngster. "If I was manager of the Camdens, I wouldn't let Frank Merriwell go away alive if he wouldn't play ball for me! I bet Rockland will have him if Moslof don't git him." "If Rockland gits him, Camden might jest as well crawl right into the smallest hole she can find, and pull the hole in after her. She won't never win another game." The most of this talk could be distinctly heard by Frank and his friends, and it proved very amusing. In the window of the drug store near the post office hung a printed poster announcing a game of ball in Camden that afternoon between Rockland and Camden. The bill also stated that Rockland and Camden were tied for first place in the Knox County League, so that the result of one game would put one or the other team at the head. "We'll have to see that game, fellows," said Frank. "It is evident that there is plenty of baseball excitement down in this part of the country." At this moment two young men came down from the rooms of the Business Men's Association in the Opera House building, and Frank uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. "There are two Dartmouth men, boys," he said; "Moslof and McDornick. Moslof is managing the Camdens and playing third. Let's go over and see them." They walked over to meet the Dartmouth men. CHAPTER XI. FALSE REPORTS. Moslof seized Frank's hand and shook it heartily. "That Rockland affair didn't amount to anything, after all, did it?" he asked. "No," said Merry; "the chap who caused my arrest skipped out when he learned that Jack Benjamin, the man I bought the yacht of, was in Rockland. He didn't stay to press the complaint of theft. He thought Benjamin had gone to Alaska. It must have been a frightful shock to him. You've met Diamond? Yes. Let me introduce Bart Hodge." "Hodge!" cried Moslof. "You caught for Merriwell this season? Jove! but you made a record for a freshman! I am glad to know you, Hodge." They shook hands, and Moslof said: "Here is McDornick, our left fielder, the biggest little crank on earth and the best base runner in the Knox County League, if I do say so! We need more of them, too." McDornick shook hands all round, spluttered a little about the "beastly luck" the Camdens had been having, and ended by swearing that Camden would "wipe up the earth" with Rockland before the season was over. He was very vehement in his expressions. "We've been awfully weak in the box," said Moslof. "Bascomb, of the University of Maine, is a good little man, but he has had poor luck against the Rocklands. That's the trouble with our pitchers. They are all right against Thomaston, but they do not work to advantage against Rockland, and I'll swear that Thomaston has the heaviest batting team." "If often works that way," said Frank. "But the worst of it is," Moslof went on, "Rockland has a pitcher who is a hoodoo for Camden. He is pie for Thomaston, but he makes monkeys of our men." "Who is he?" "Dayguild, late of the New England League. Rockland has found out that he can play thunder with Camden, and they hold him back for us all the time. They don't care about Thomaston; it's Camden they want to beat." "How is it with Camden?" "Well," laughed Moslof, "to tell the truth, the feeling is just as strong up there. We'd give our boots to down Rockland, and we don't care so much about Thomaston. I played with Rockland last year. They used me well down there, but said I couldn't bat any. That made me mad. This year for the first two weeks of our season I led the league in batting. I am falling off a little, but still I am ahead of the average. They are beginning to change their mind down there about my batting." "Well," said Merry, "we are going to see your game this afternoon. I suppose it will be pretty hot?" "Hot! You bet! I expect Woods and Makune, of the disbanded Portlands, here by noon. We have Williamson, of the Lewistons, but he has been ill and is not in the best form. We're going to do our best to take the lead again to-day. Woods is a dandy little pitcher and a fine fellow." "But if we had you, Merriwell, we'd be all right," said McDornick. "Say, old man, won't you pitch for us this afternoon? Makune will cover second, and we can put Woods anywhere. With you in the box, we can paralyze Rockland." Frank shook his head. "It's no use," he said. "I can't play with you." "I hope the stories that fellow has been telling about you are not true," said Moslof, slowly. "What stories?" "Why, he's been saying that Rockland had secured you sure--that you came down into Maine on purpose to pitch for Rockland. When I told him you had given me your word to pitch for Camden if you pitched at all, he laughed in my face, and said I was easily fooled. He swore that he knew for an absolute fact that you had signed with Rockland." As Frank listened to this, he flushed and then turned pale. There came a dangerous fire into his eyes, and he laughed in a manner that was a danger signal for those who knew him best. "Moslof," he said, "you must know these reports are lies. You must know I can't sign a contract, as that would bar me from college baseball." "I didn't believe it," said the manager of the Camdens; "but there are plenty who did, and the men who are backing the club here are sore on me for letting you get away after helping you out of that scrape in Rockland. If Rockland got you now, I'd jump this town in a hurry." "Don't let that worry you a bit, old man. I said I would pitch for Camden if I pitched at all, and I rather think I am known as a man of my word." Moslof seemed relieved. "Oh, say!" exclaimed McDormick, impulsively, "just pitch this game for us this afternoon! We'll sink the knife deep into Rockland!" "I hate to refuse," said Frank; "but I must. What I want to know is, who this fellow is who has been telling that Rockland had me." "Oh, he is a fly chap who is stopping at the Bay View--a summer boarder." "What does he look like?" "He's a loud dresser--wears plaids, pink shirts, lots of rings, loud neckties, and so forth." "What's he look like in the face? How old is he?" "He may be nineteen. His eyes are set near together, and he is freckled and foxy looking." "He's a sneak!" broke out McDornick, in his impulsive way. "I knew it the first time I saw him." "Where is the Bay View?" asked Merriwell. "Right there," answered Moslof, motioning toward a large building sitting back on the opposite side of the street. "This fellow is stopping there?" "Yes." "What is his name?" "Don't know." "Let's go over. I want to see that gentleman. I hope we may find him around the hotel." "If you'll punch him, I'll pay your fine!" said the hot-headed McDornick, as they crossed the street. While they had been talking in front of the opera house, a small boy was standing near them, his hands clasped and an ecstatic look of happiness on his face, while his eyes were not taken off Frank Merriwell for a moment. When Frank had started to cross the street with the others, the boy heaved a sigh. A gentleman who was passing stopped and looked at the boy in surprise. "Well, my little man," said the gentleman, "what is the trouble? You look as if you had seen a vision." "I've jest seen somebody I never thought I'd see," said the boy. "Oh, I'd like to grow up and be famous like him! It must be fine to be famous." "My boy," said the gentleman, encouragingly, "if you live you may be a great man some day." "I can't never be like the feller I've just seen." "Why, who could this wonderful person have been? I didn't know there was such a famous man stopping in Camden at present. Was it the governor of the State?" "Naw! Somebody bigger'n him!" "A United States Senator, perhaps?" "Senators ain't in it with this feller!" "Really! You surprise and interest me. It could not have been the President of the United States?" "Bigger feller than the Prince of Wales! Oh, if I could grow up to be like him!" "Now I am astounded!" exclaimed the gentleman. "Who can this wonderful person be? Won't you tell me his name?" "His name is Frank Merriwell, and he is a lollypolooser! He's the most wonderful feller living in the whole world." "Frank Merriwell?" repeated the gentleman, in perplexity. "It's strange I never heard of him. What has he ever done?" "Done?" cried the boy, excitedly and enthusiastically. "What ain't he done? He's traveled round the world, shot panthers and Greasers in South America, gorillas in Africa, tigers in India, elephants in Ceylon, and bears and other critters out West in this country. Done? Why, he made a bicycle trip across the country from New York to San Francisco, and he licked everybody that tried to bother him on the way. Done? Mister, he goes to Yale College, and he is the greatest football player in the world! He pitches on the Yale nine, and he wiped up the earth with Harvard and Princeton this spring. Done? If there's a thing that feller ain't done an' can't do, I want ter know it!" The gentleman was gasping for breath. "Really!" he said, "a most remarkable person! And you want to grow up and be like him?" "If I thought I could--if I ever did, I'd die happy!" "Strange I never heard of this person before. I don't believe he is very well known." "Now, don't fool yourself, mister. He's known by every boy in the United States! We've all heard of him, and all the boys down in this town would give anything to be like him. I tell you he is a bird!" "Where is he now?" "He's just gone over to the Bay View with Moslof and some other fellers." "Really, I believe I'll have to go over and see what this wonderful person looks like," and the gentleman crossed the street toward the hotel. In the meantime Frank and his companions entered the hotel in search of the person who had been circulating the false reports about Merriwell. The report that Merriwell was in town had reached the hotel, and no sooner had the boys entered the office than the landlord came forward and greeted them heartily. Moslof introduced Merry and his two friends. The landlord proved to be a cordial, pleasant gentleman. "Mr. Merriwell," he said, "you have caused me no end of trouble." "I have?" exclaimed Frank, astonished. "Yes." "How is that?" "Well, there isn't a table girl, a kitchen girl or any other girl in this house who does not know all about you. They read those yarns about you so much that they neglect their business. And, Mr. Merriwell," with sudden sternness, "I think you will have to settle with me for it." "All right," smiled Frank. "What is the bill?" "There is no bill. I mean you have to settle at this hotel and stay here while you are in town. There will be no bill. You shall have the best the house affords, and it shall not cost you a red cent." Frank was surprised, but he thanked the genial landlord, saying: "Really, sir, you are too kind, but we have everything comfortable on my yacht, and the fellows would not like it if I deserted them." "Then bring them all here! I'm crowded, but I'll find room for you, if I have to give up a room myself." He was in earnest, too. Frank thanked him warmly once more, but exclaimed that such a thing would not do, as the _White Wings_ might be stolen by the party who had attempted to seize her in the very mouth of Rockland harbor. While they were talking, a very pretty, roguish-eyed girl came into the office, making an excuse that she was there on some sort of an errand. She cast sly glances at Frank, for really she was there to see him. Of a sudden the landlord, laughing, caught her by the arm, and drew her round, saying: "Here, Mr. Merriwell, is your greatest admirer in the house, Miss Phebe Macey. I heard her say once that she thought Frank Merriwell the finest fellow in the world, and she wondered why some of the Camden boys were not like him." Frank was a little confused, but he lifted his cap and bowed, saying: "Miss Macey, I am glad to know I have such an ardent admirer here." Phebe was blushing crimson, but the roguish look was still in her eyes. Never in all her life had she looked prettier than in that moment of excitement and confusion. She lifted her hand and felt it grasped by Frank, and then, in dismay, she turned and fled, laughing to cover her agitation. She quickly disappeared, but her laugh rang in Merriwell's ears, for it was quite as bewitching as her roguish eyes. The landlord seemed to enjoy the agitation he had caused the girl, and he laughed again. In fact, he was quite a man to laugh. He urged Frank to remain to dinner, and Merry finally consented, although Jack and Bart, who were likewise invited, decided to return to the yacht. While they were talking, Moslof suddenly grasped Merriwell's arm, saying in his ear: "Here's the fellow you want to see." He turned Frank toward a person who had just entered the office. In a moment Merry advanced toward that person, confronted him, and sternly said: "So, sir, having failed to injure me in other ways, you have been lying about me! Well, it's quite like you, Snell!" "Merriwell?" gasped the other, recoiling and turning pale. "The dickens!" Frank and his old foe, Wat Snell, were again face to face. CHAPTER XII. SNELL IS FIRED. "So it's that sneak who has been telling yarns!" grated Bart Hodge. "I hope Merriwell will smash him!" "If he doesn't, I will!" muttered Jack Diamond. "I thought we had seen the last of him when we left Fardale." "I hoped so," confessed Hodge. "But I can't have a fight here," said the landlord, firmly. "It won't do." He seemed on the point of interfering between Frank and Wat, but Hodge said: "A word to Merriwell is enough, Mr. Drayben. He will be careful not to cause you any trouble." Mr. Drayben saw that Merriwell was holding himself in reserve, and he felt a sudden curiosity to know what would pass between the enemies who had met there in his hotel, so he did not speak to Frank at once. "Where is your fine friend, Mr. Parker Flynn, who you aided in your piratical attempt to seize my yacht?" asked Frank. Snell swallowed down a lump in his throat and made an effort to recover his composure. "The yacht belongs to Mr. Flynn," he said, huskily, his voice betraying his craven spirit. "You know better than that! If so, why didn't Flynn remain in Rockland and push the case against me? Why did he suddenly take to his heels when he learned that Benjamin, from whom I bought the _White Wings_, was in Rockland?" "Business called him back to Boston," faltered Snell. "And business called you out of Rockland in a hurry, too. But you stopped too soon. It would have been better for you if you had kept on going." Snell understood Merriwell's meaning and he quailed before the flashing eyes of the boy he had slandered. "Oh, you can't scare me with your threats!" he declared, in a weak manner. "I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Frank Merriwell." "If you had kept still about me," said Frank, "I should not have known you were in this town, but you tried to hurt me in a mean, contemptible manner, and I found you out." "Never tried to hurt you in any manner." "How about the lies you have been circulating concerning me?" "I don't know what you mean." "Yes, you do." "I swear I do not." "You have been telling that I have signed a contract with Rockland." "Well, haven't you?" "You know I have not! You know I would not do such a thing for any money, as it would disqualify me for the Yale team. But I fancy I see through your crooked game. You thought I might pitch for Rockland because you knew they would offer me more money than Camden possibly could. You judged me by yourself, and you knew you would sell yourself to do anything for money. You sought to turn the college men here against me, so they would carry back the report to their colleges that I had played for money under a signed contract. Then I would be debarred from the Yale team, and your revenge would be complete. Oh, I can read you, Snell--I know the workings of your evil mind! You are wholly crooked and wholly contemptible. What you deserve is a good coat of tar and feathers!" Frank's plain words had drawn a crowd about them, and Drayben saw it would not do not to interfere, as the talk could be heard in the parlors. "This will have to stop," he said, firmly. "I can't have any more of it in my hotel." "He is to blame for it all," whined Snell. The landlord gave him a look of contempt. "I do not blame him for anything," he declared. "I know you have told the stories he claims. My only wonder is that he did not knock you down on sight." "I might have done so," said Frank, "but was ashamed to soil my hands on the fellow." At this, thinking he was not in danger of immediate personal violence, Snell became suddenly bold. "That is well enough to tell," he said; "but no one will believe it. You will find that you can't crowd me, Mr. Merriwell." "I don't want to crowd you, but I want you to keep your mouth closed as far as I am concerned. If you try to circulate any more lies about me, I shall forget that you are a whining cur, without a spark of courage in your whole body, and I shall give you the drubbing you deserve." "Bah!" cried Snell. "As I have discovered the sort of a person you are," said Mr. Drayben, quietly but sternly, "I do not care to keep you in my hotel another hour." "What?" gasped Snell. "What do you mean?" "I mean that you are to pack up and get out at once." "But you can't turn me out in that manner. This is a public house, and you have no right to turn me out like that!" "I have the right to refuse to keep rascals and crooks in my house, sir. It is my duty to protect my guests by turning out such persons when their true character is discovered. You will get out as soon as you can." "Do--do--do you dare call me a rascal and a crook?" gurgled Snell. "Take care, sir!" shaking his finger at the landlord. "My father is a rich man. He is at the head of the Yokohama and Manhattan Tea Company, Mr. Drayben, and he will make you regret it if you turn me out of your old hotel!" "I don't care if your father is the Mikado of Japan or the Mayor of New York!" came from the landlord, who flushed with anger when Snell shook a finger at him; "you will get out of this house in a hurry, just the same." "You can't turn me out till after dinner!" "Can't I? We'll see about that!" "But it's almost dinner time now." "That makes no difference. You can't eat another meal here. Settle and git!" It was a terrible humiliation for Snell, but he found there was no appeal, and he was forced to settle his bill, pack his traveling bag, and leave the hotel without his dinner. "I have not liked the appearance of the fellow from the start," said Mr. Drayben. "He talked too much. If he stayed in the house another week, he would have driven away some of my best guests. You have done me a favor, Mr. Merriwell, by giving me an excuse for getting rid of him." "He's a revengeful sneak," said Frank. "He'll try to get even with me some way." Jack and Bart decided it was time for them to return to the yacht, and so they left Merriwell at the hotel, surrounded by several members of the Camden ball team, who had come in to see him. Moslof introduced Frank to the members of the team as they appeared, and Merry shook hands with Slatridge and Putbury, the principal battery of the nine, two men who were red-headed, freckled, slow of movement, slow of speech, and who looked so much alike that in their uniforms one was often mistaken for the other. Cogern, the center fielder of the team, was another big fellow, who was said to be a terrific batter, being valuable for that very reason. Williamson proved to be tall and thin, but "Pop" had a reputation as a pitcher and a hitter. On account of his illness he had not been able to pitch since joining the Camdens, and so he was covering first base. Mower was a professional, and a good man when he attended to business. He played short. Bascomb, a little fellow, with a swagger and a grin that showed some very poor teeth, was change pitcher with Slatridge. Frank looked the men over. They were a clean-looking set of ball players, and he was favorably impressed with them. "Why, you seem to have a strong team here," he said to Moslof. "I fancied by what I heard down in Rockland that you had a lot of farmers." "They know better than that!" exclaimed the manager of the Camdens, flushing. "We gave them a shock by winning from them in our opening game. They thought they had a snap. They have been hustling since then, but we held the lead for a long time. Now we are tied with them for first place, and this game to-day decides who holds the position. If Woods and Makune arrive on the twelve o'clock car, we'll try to give Rockland a surprise this afternoon." "Woods is a pitcher, isn't he?" "He is, and he's a good man, too, but his arm is not in the best condition. He hurt it a few weeks ago, and it hasn't got back yet. All the same, he says he will pitch for us this afternoon--telephoned me to that effect. He's on the level, and he wouldn't want to pitch if he didn't think he could win." "Then I don't see why you want anything of me," smiled Frank. "Woods can play any position," said Moslof, quickly. "With you in the box, we'd have the strongest nine ever seen in this State." "You have started my baseball blood to boiling," laughed Merry; "but I think I'll keep my head cool and not play." At this moment some one announced that the twelve o'clock car was coming, and all hurried out to see if Woods and Makune were on it. They were. They were met by Moslof, who shook hands with them and then introduced them to Merriwell. "What?" exclaimed Makune. "Frank Merriwell, the Yale man?" "The same," confessed Frank. "Why, Portland tried to get you two weeks ago, but couldn't get track of you. Moslof, you did a good trick when you nailed Merriwell." "But I haven't nailed him," said the manager of the Camdens. "I've tried every way possible to get him. He is stopping here on his own yacht." Woods did not seem to be much of a talker, but when he shook hands with Merry, many in the crowd noticed a strong resemblance between them. Merriwell was the taller and darker. Woods was very quiet in his manner, and he impressed the observer favorably at a glance. He had the air of a gentleman, even though he was a professional ball player. That day Woods, Makune, Moslof and Merriwell dined together at the Bay View, and Frank told himself that never had he met a pleasanter set of fellows. There was something about Woods that drew Merry to him in a most remarkable manner. Frank had not known him an hour before he felt as if they were old friends. "Do you think you can win from Rockland this afternoon, Walter?" asked Moslof. "I can try," said Woods, quietly. "Win!" exclaimed Makune. "Why, he is sure to win! If you have the team you say you have, we'll eat Rockland." "How's your arm, Walter?" asked Moslof. "I think it's all right," assured Woods. "All right!" cried Makune. "Of course it's all right! Never was better. You didn't hurt it much, anyway, Walt." "Yes, I did," declared Woods, truthfully. "I thought I had killed it, and I reckoned that my ball playing days were over. I didn't care much, either. If it hadn't been for you, Makune, I'd quit, anyway." "Oh, you're too sensitive!" chuckled Makune. "You see, gentlemen, Walter doesn't drink a drop, doesn't smoke, chew or swear, won't play cards for money--in fact, hasn't a single vice. The fellows jolly him about it, and it makes him sore." Frank's sympathy was with Woods at once. After dinner Woods and Makune went to their rooms to change their clothes, and Merry went out to stroll through the town. Frank found himself stared at in a manner that was rather embarrassing. In the candy store opposite the Bay View were a number of girls who seemed to be watching for him to appear. They did not try to flirt with him, but it was obvious that everyone of them was "just dying" for a fair look at him. Frank walked down through town and strolled up onto High Street as far as the handsome stone mansion known as "Villa Norembega." Here he was at the very base of the mountains, and he could look out over the harbor and the bay. The view was the most beautiful his eyes had ever rested upon, and he stood there gazing upon it for a long time. Down in the harbor, amid the other yachts, the _White Wings_ lay at anchor, and his keen eyes could detect figures moving about on her deck. "Jingoes!" thought Merry. "This is a lovely spot. I wonder more people do not come here during summer. There can't be anything more beautiful at Bar Harbor." He walked back into town, and, on the corner near Wiley's market, he met McDornick and Cogern, who were in their ball suits. He paused to chat with them a moment. "We'll have a mob up from Rockland this afternoon," said Cogern. "They know we've got Woods and Makune." "Perhaps they won't come for that very reason," said McDornick. "They may not want to see their team beaten. We'll give them fits to-day." "Baseball is something you can't depend on," said Frank, warningly. "Don't be too sure of winning. I have seen a strong team lose just because it was too confident." "If we had you this afternoon we couldn't lose," declared Cogern. "That is not certain," smiled Merry; "but I guess you are all right, anyway." "Here comes the two o'clock car from Rockland," said McDornick. "Wonder if it brought up any rooters?" The car was coming down around the curve, the motorman letting it run without power, as the grade was rather steep there. Of a sudden, Cogern uttered a cry, and Frank heard a sound that caused him to whirl about instantly. On the track directly in front of the oncoming car, a young girl had fallen from her bicycle. She seemed to be stunned, and the car was rushing upon her swiftly, although the frantic motorman was banging the gong and twisting away at the brake with all his strength. Cries of horror went up from twenty persons who witnessed the downfall of the girl, for it looked as if the car must pass directly over her. Quick as thought Frank Merriwell sprang to save the imperiled girl. Two panther-like bounds took him to the car track, and he stooped to lift her. Again there were cries of horror, for it seemed that the car must knock him down, and that two lives instead of one would be crushed out beneath the wheels. Women on the street turned their heads away that they might not witness the awful tragedy. It did not seem that Frank paused in his rush, although he stooped, caught hold of the girl, lifted her and bore her on. He snatched her up in a manner that utterly bewildered every person who witnessed the act, and then, as the car seemed sure to strike him, with one of those wonderful leaps, he cleared the track, holding the girl in his arms. He felt the car brush his elbow, but that was all. He was not harmed, and the girl was safe in his arms, although her wheel was crushed beneath the wheels of the car. People came rushing toward them from all directions, but Frank did not mind them at that moment. He looked down at the pale face of the panting girl. "Miss Macey!" he exclaimed. It was the pretty, roguish-eyed girl to whom he had been introduced by Landlord Drayben. "You are not hurt, are you?" he asked. "No," she faintly whispered, a bit of color coming back to her face; "but you saved me from being killed, Mr. Merriwell." "Well," Frank was forced to confess, "I think I did get you away just in time." "My bicycle----" "Smashed." "Oh, I'm so sorry! But I'd rather it would be that than myself. Thank you, Mr. Merriwell." "I am happy to do so much for you. My only regret is that I was not able to save your wheel, too." "You did all you could," she said, a bit of the roguish light coming back to her eyes. "I didn't suppose you would do so much for me, a stranger." "I'm always ready to do anything in my power for a pretty girl," said Merry, softly, with laughing seriousness. "Then pitch for the Camdens this afternoon," murmured Phebe. "Will you?" Frank was thrown into consternation, for he saw he was trapped. "It's too late now," he said. "Moslof has decided to pitch Woods. If asked again to pitch, I'll do it." By this time they were surrounded by the crowd. A dozen men were asking Phebe if she were hurt, or were loudly praising Merriwell for his prompt action in going to her rescue. "Let me escort you to the hotel," said Frank. "I will return and see about your broken wheel." "If you will be so kind," she murmured. Then, with her clinging to his arm, they walked toward the hotel. It seemed that two hundred persons knew what had happened. A score of girls saw Phebe Macey clinging to Frank's arm, and even though she had lost her bicycle beneath the wheels of the car, she was envied by them all. CHAPTER XIII. QUICK WORK. A steady stream of men, women, boys and girls were pouring in at the entrance of the Camden ball ground, which lay in a most picturesque location directly at the foot of the mountains. It was plain that the greatest crowd of the season had turned out to witness the struggle which should place either Rockland or Camden at the head of the Knox County League. The grand stand filled rapidly. It was a hot afternoon, but there was a draught through the grand stand, so that the upper seats were comfortable. Beyond the dusty diamond the green woods looked cool and inviting. The ball ground was on an elevated spot, from which a view of the village and bay could be obtained. Winding through the distant line of woods the river might be seen. Away to the west loomed a range of purple mountains. Dressed in their scarlet uniforms, the Camdens were on the field practicing. Although Bascomb was going to be on the bench that afternoon, he was warming up as if he expected to go into the box. He had cast aside cap and sweater, and was pitching all kinds of shoots to a young chap he had found willing to catch him. Woods was batting to the infield, but somebody was needed to give the outfield some work. Merriwell was called for by McDornick. Frank was leaning on the rail down near the peanut stand, Diamond, Hodge, Browning and Dunnerwust being with him. The entire party had left the yacht to witness the game of ball, but the _White Wings_ was being watched by a young man on another yacht that lay near her. "Where's Frank Merriwell?" cried McDornick from the field. "Let him knock out some sky scrapers for us." Moslof asked Merriwell to bat some to the outfield, and so Frank tossed aside his yachting jacket and advanced toward the plate. There was a sudden burst of applause from the grand stand and it went all round the ground, bringing a hot flush to Merry's face. "I wish they wouldn't do that!" he muttered. Surely he was a handsome-looking fellow in his yachting suit. He selected a bat, and then, without any apparent effort, drove out a high liner for Cogern in deep center. He gave the fielders all the work they wanted. "Here come the Rocklands!" A great crowd was coming up the road, in the van of which could be seen the boys in gray from the Limerock City. The Rockland rooters had not been frightened away by the report that Woods and Makune would play with Camden. They were coming in a body to whoop and yell and growl for their team--yes, to fight for it, if necessary. They poured into the ground. All the available standing room was taken, and the crowd overflowed so that it encroached upon the field. The Camdens came in and let their opponents have the field for practice. "Fellows," smiled Frank, as he joined his friends, "this is going to be a hot afternoon." "All of that," nodded Hodge. "It's plain there is an intense feeling of rivalry between these two towns." "Say, fellows," put in Jack Diamond, "I haven't stopped wondering yet." "What about?" asked Frank. "This part of the country. You told me we would have sport down here, but I never expected anything like this. Why, there's rivers of sporting blood in this section! How do they get together such ball teams? Camden must pay Mower big money, or he would be in one of the big leagues. They must have coughed liberally to Woods and Makune, for either of those two fellows could get into a big league. Rockland has a full-salaried team, and they say she pays her men two hundred and fifty dollars a week all told. That's more money than the New England League pays." "They don't go into anything halfway down here," smiled Merry. "I fancy the ball team is a good thing for Camden. It advertises the town, as all the games are reported in the Boston dailies, and it attracts summer visitors. A good percentage of the spectators here now are summer people." The Rockland team began practice. They appeared more like professionals, taken as a whole, than the Camdens, nearly all of whom seemed college lads. Practice was over in a short time, and then the home team prepared to go to bat first, and the umpire took his position and called "play." Although the Rockland "rooters" were on hand to shout for their team, the fact that Camden had Woods and Makune made them cautious about offering bets. In fact, two of Rockland's principal "sports" were seeking to put money on Camden, but could not find takers without giving odds. Dayguild, Rockland's champion pitcher, the man held in reserve for Camden, was sent into the box. He had seemed to hoodoo Camden, and Rocklandites hoped he would keep up the good work. Some Thomaston men who had come over to see the game stopped near Merriwell and his party and laughed over the "snap" Camden would have that day. One of them was telling the others how easy it was to rattle Dayguild and break his courage by hitting him hard and putting two rattling coachers on the line to keep him "up in the air." Frank did not miss a word of this talk. "Pop" Williamson was the first man to go to bat for Camden. He stood up at the plate and looked at Dayguild. Dayguild laughed at him, saying: "Pop, you're easy." "Pop" laughed back, observing: "I have to be easy with you, Gil, or I'd show you up, and you would lose your job." "That's what I call wit!" exclaimed Merriwell, in appreciation. "Pop is all right. He'll get a hit." He did. He cracked out Dayguild's first ball for an easy single, and laughed at the Rockland pitcher as he trotted down to first. "Thought I wouldn't put it into the woods this time, Gil," he said. "That's a good start to rattle Dayguild if they would get after him," said a Thomaston man. But Camden made the mistake of splitting her coachers, putting one at third and one at first, and the men did not "open up" in a way to get the Rockland pitcher on the string. Putbury, or "Old Put," followed Williamson. He was a left-hand hitter, and a good man, but Dayguild managed to give him the "evil eye" and struck him out. "I'm afraid you won't get away from first, Pop," said Dayguild, winking at Williamson in a tantalizing manner. "Oh, there's lots of time," returned the runner, calmly. Cogern followed Putbury. He fanned twice, and then he cracked out a daisy cutter that looked like a safe hit, for it got past the pitcher and was going directly over second, with Smithers, the baseman, playing away off. But Smithers was a little fellow who could cover ground wonderfully. How he ever reached second as soon as the ball and gathered it in was a marvel, but he did the trick with an ease that brought an exclamation of admiration from Merriwell. As he picked the ball off the ground Smithers touched second and put Williamson out. Then he whirled like a cat and sent the ball whistling to first. Rockland's first baseman smothered it with ease before Cogern could get much more than halfway down the line, and a double play had been made, which retired Camden with a whitewash as a starter. What a wild howl of satisfaction went up from the throats of the Rockland rooters! How they hammered on the railing and yelled! Their satisfaction was unlimited, for they had not dreamed there could be such a happy termination of the Camden's half of the first inning. "Sorry for you, Pop," grinned Dayguild. "It's a good thing for you there was a man like Smithers on second," returned Williamson. "It was a clean case of luck." At this Dayguild laughed derisively, walking in to the bench. Camden took the field. Woods stripped off his sweater and went into the box. He was a clean, fine-looking fellow in his suit. He had warmed up a little, and now he tossed a few to Williamson, who was on first. Smithers, the captain of the Rocklands, was the first man to go to the plate. He was known to be a most remarkable little hitter, without a weak point that any pitcher had been able to discover. Woods looked Smithers over, and then sent in a swift one that the little man let pass. The umpire called a ball. "Whew!" exclaimed Diamond. "That's what I call speed." "You don'd peen aple to seen dot pall ad all, eh?" cried Hans. "Merry," said Bart, "Woods is the first fellow I ever saw who reminded me of you in the box." Smithers went after the next ball, but fouled it over the fence, and a new ball was put into play. Again and again he fouled. "You are finding him," cried the Rockland rooters. At last Smithers hit it fairly on the trade mark, and sent it out into right field for a single. The Rockland crowd was delighted. "Why, Woods is easy!" they roared. Woods was not ruffled in the least. When the ball was thrown in, he entered the box with it immediately, and then suddenly snapped his left foot out and shot the ball over to first. Smithers saved himself by a hair's breadth. It was a close decision on the part of the umpire. "Did you get onto that motion with his foot?" came eagerly from Hodge. "It's Merriwell exactly! Why, the fellow appears more and more like you, Frank!" "That's so," grunted Browning. Edwards, Rockland's shortstop, followed Smithers at bat. He was a large, stocky, red-headed fellow, inclined to swagger and make more or less unnecessary talk, but a good ball player and a hard hitter. "Don't let him catch you, Smithers," he cried. "I'll land you on third." Woods smiled. He was feeling first rate, and he did not believe Edwards could keep his word. While standing carelessly in the box, he gave a hitch at his pants with both hands, the right hand holding the ball, and then sent a scorcher over the plate so quickly that Edwards was not prepared and did not offer at it. "One strike!" decided the umpire. "That's the way to fool 'em on the first one," laughed Frank Merriwell, softly. "Woods is up to tricks. Boys, that fellow is a dandy, I believe." Smithers tried to get a good start from first, but Woods kept him close to the base, much to the delight of the Camden crowd. All Camden was confident that Rockland was doomed to defeat that day. The second ball was a coaxer, but Edwards let it pass. Then came another swift one, and the batter went after it and missed it entirely. The Camden crowd howled its delight. "That's the stuff, Woodsie!" yelled a voice. "Leave Smithers on first, same as they left Williamson." "He can't do it, you know!" sung back a Rockland rooter. Woods was the essence of coolness. He teased Edwards with two out-drops, and then he seemed to gather himself for a speedy one. As the batting score stood three balls and two strikes, the batter felt that Woods would use a straight, swift ball and try to cut a corner of the plate. Woods seemed to send the ball with all the strength he could command, but, strange to say, it lingered in the air, and, too late, Edwards saw it was a slow one. The big shortstop bit at it. He smashed at it with all his strength, and he hit the ball with the tip of his bat. The coacher had sent Smithers for second on that ball when it left Woods' hand. It was too late to stop him when they saw the ball popped up into the air as an easy infield fly. Makune called out that he would take it, and ran in under it. Edwards, who had a lame knee, ran as if sprinting for his life. The ball hung in the air a long time, while Makune stood under it, waiting for it to come down. When it did come down it created one of the sensations of the day, for it dropped into Makune's hands and fell out. There was a roar of astonishment that this crack infielder of the New England League should drop a ball like that. Makune was the most astonished man within the inclosure of that ball ground, for he had not done anything like that before during the entire season. Then there was a kick, as Moslof claimed that Makune dropped it purposely, and, as he had thrown the ball over to first on picking it up, Edwards was out on an infield fly, even though he had reached the base ahead of the ball. The umpire knew his business, however, and did not get rattled. He knew that the rules declared a batter was out on an infield fly that could be handled, providing there was a runner on first; even though the fielder dropped the ball for the purpose of luring the man off first. But Smithers had left first before Edwards struck the ball and was well on his way to second, while Makune had not dropped the fly as a trick, but because he could not hold it. The umpire decided that Smithers had stolen second and Edwards was safe on first, which caused the Rockland crowd to go wild with satisfaction, while the Camdenites groaned in dismay, those who did not understand the point in the game declaring it was an outrage, and those who did feeling that the umpire understood it too well to be fooled. Gulsiver, Rockland's center fielder, was the next batter. He went after the second ball and found it, knocking it straight at Mower. Mower was an erratic player, and, on this occasion, he stopped the ball, but he chased it around his feet long enough to permit Gulsiver to get first safely, and Smithers and Edwards moved up a base each. The bags were full! "That's a hard start for Camden," said Frank Merriwell, feeling his sympathy go out toward the boys in red. "Dot Voods don'd seem to peen doin' a great deal mit der Rocklandt poys," observed Hans. "It's not Woods' fault," declared Merry. "Smithers is the only man who has secured a hit off him." If Woods was worried or disgusted, he did not betray it. He continued to pitch coolly and deliberately, for all the yelling of the Rockland crowd and chinning of the coachers. He struck out the next man, and followed that up by causing Hammond, the fifth batter, to put up a low, infield fly, which Woods looked after himself and caught. Then it was Camden's turn to howl again, for, although the bases were full, two men had been sent to the bench in a minute by the cool little pitcher in crimson. "This looks better," said Merriwell, beginning to smile again. "I'll bet something Rockland does not score." Shaddock was the next man at bat. Woods fooled him on a wide curve and a swift inshoot. Then Shaddock got mad and nearly broke his back hitting the ball. The ball struck the ground near the home plate and rolled lazily down toward third. Smithers had started for home, and Woods started for the ball. As he passed the ball, Smithers tried to kick it aside, even though he was taking chances of being seen by the umpire in doing the trick. He failed to touch it, however, and, the next instant, Woods gathered it up with one hand, taking it as he ran directly from first base. Smithers was between him and the plate, and he could not see the catcher. He did not hesitate a fraction of a second, he did not even pause to straighten up, but, in a stooping position, he swung his arm low and sent the ball whistling to first. Spectators afterward declared that at no time was that ball more than two feet above the ground. It went straight to first, Williamson gathered it in, and the Rocklands were out without scoring. Then such a roar went up to the heights of old Megunticook! The old mountain must have fancied that the Indian warriors of long, long years ago had returned and were holding a mighty powwow down there in its shadow. Men and boys were frantic. They hammered each other on the back, they flung their hats into the air. Women screamed with joy and waved their handkerchiefs. And Woods--just then he was the hero of the moment. Scores of pretty girls were hugging each other and declaring that he was "just perfectly lovely." But he was as cool and unruffled as ever, seemingly utterly deaf to the roars of applause. "I guess Camden is all right, after all," laughed Merriwell. "Woods is a dandy," said Diamond. "They do not need me to pitch for them to-day," declared Frank. Dayguild grinned and chewed gum as he entered the box and faced little McDornick, champion base runner of the Camdens. McDornick was palpitating with eagerness to hit the ball. He hated to let the first one pass, although Dayguild sent in a wide teaser. He went for the second one, and hammered it out for two bags, although with an ordinary runner it would have been no more than a pretty single. "Gil, you're pie," laughed Williamson, from the bench. "You will find him hot pie before the game is over," said a Rockland man. Moslof went to bat. He was eager, also--far too eager, for he struck at the first ball, although it was not within reach. But McDornick stole third on it, reaching the bag in advance of the ball by a beautiful lone slide. Then Moslof batted one down to Edwards and was thrown out at first. Mower came next. Sometimes he was a hitter. This was not one of the times. He fanned out, and still McDornick was shivering on third. Makune faced Dayguild. It was not for the first time, as he had faced him many times before in the New England League. Although Makune was not a heavy hitter, he had done remarkable work for the first of the season, and Dayguild was afraid of him. With the ball under his arm, the Rockland pitcher turned to observe the positions of the men in the field. His back was toward McDornick. There was a shout of warning from the crowd, and Dayguild whirled to see a figure in crimson shooting toward the plate like a streak of fire. It was McDornick attempting to steal home! The nerve of the act dazed Dayguild for a moment, and then he threw the ball to the catcher, thinking to put out the runner with ease. The catcher dropped it! McDornick made a headlong plunge for the plate, touched it, leaped up and dodged away before the catcher could pick up the ball. Camden had scored! Roar, roar, roar! The crowd went wild with joy. The black cliffs above flung back the burst of sound. It seemed enough to wake the dead in the distant cemetery tinder the slope of Battie. It was heard far down in the heart of the town, and it brought more spectators hurrying to the ball ground. Williamson sat on the bench and laughed tauntingly at Dayguild, who was flustered and excited. "Now, if they know how to do the trick, they can win the game in this inning," said a Thomaston man. But Makune was not in good form, and he rolled one down to third, being thrown out at first, which retired Camden with one score. But Woods pitched wonderful ball the next inning, and Rockland was given another whitewash. By this time Dayguild had recovered his composure, and he pitched so well that Slatridge, Woods and Williamson went out in quick succession. Then came a fatal half for Camden. Merriwell had seen Woods feeling of his elbow and working it as if it did not feel just right, and he was not surprised when Rockland fell to batting the new pitcher of the Camdens. "Moslof ought to take Woods out," Frank said to Diamond. "He has hurt that lame arm already." "You must be wrong, Merry," said the Virginian. "See the speed he is using. Why, I can hardly see the ball as it goes over the plate." "Speed is all he is using," declared Merriwell, "and Rockland is eating speed. He can't use his curves, as it hurts his arm to do so." Now the Rockland crowd had a chance to yell and laugh, and cheer, for, although Woods seemed to be pitching good ball, the "Limeburners" had donned their "batting clothes," and were hitting anything and everything. The fielders were kept busy, and Rockland players chased each other round the bases till six scores had come in. "I said Moslof ought to take Woods out," said Merriwell, soberly. "The game is lost now." "Woods can't be the pitcher we thought he was," said Diamond, in disappointment. "Woods is all right if he doesn't spoil that arm," asserted Frank. "If he sticks to professional ball and takes care of his arm, he'll be in the National League before many years."[1] [Footnote 1: A prophecy that has come true, as Walter Woods was signed by Chicago several years ago. He can play any position on the diamond, and is one of the cleanest men in the business. Not long ago he pitched on the Camden team of the Knox County League, in the State of Maine. Sockalexis, the Indian player, who was with the Clevelands last season, and who created a sensation wherever he appeared, also played in the Knox County League.--The Author.] At last Woods struck out the third man, and Rockland was retired, but not till she had secured a lead of five scores. Dayguild laughed at Williamson as he went into the box. "It's all over now," he declared. "Camden is buried." "You can't tell about that," returned Williamson. "You have had your turn, ours will come." But it did not come that day, although Woods pitched the game out and held Rockland down so that she obtained but one more score. The game finally ended seven to five in favor of Rockland. A more delighted crowd than the rooters from the Limerock city could not be found. They guyed every Camdenite they knew. They declared that Camden was a snap for Rockland, and always would be a snap. They were insolent in their satisfaction and delight. Down into town rushed the Rocklandites. They bought every tin horn they could find, and at least a dozen cow bells. They bought tin pans and drummed on them with sticks. They bought brooms and paraded with them to indicate that they had swept Camden clean. They made a frightful racket in the very heart of the village, and their scornful remarks about Camden and Camdenites in general were of a nature to arouse the anger of any inhabitant of the town at the foot of the mountains. At last the cars from Rockland came, three of them being required to handle the crowd. They piled on and went out of Camden blowing horns, ringing bells, beating tin pans and howling derision. Frank Merriwell stood on the corner near the opera house and heard all this. He could feel the blood within him getting warmer and warmer. He considered Moslof a fine fellow and he admired Woods. His sympathy was with Camden. Moslof and Woods came down the street together and paused near Frank. Woods was making no excuses. "They hit me out, that's all," he said. "I want to pitch against them again when this arm is rested." Frank stepped forward. "When do you play Rockland again, Moslof?" he asked. "To-morrow," was the answer. "The schedule brings these two games together." "Who will pitch?" "I don't know. Woods can't, Williamson is not in shape, I am afraid to put Slatridge in, and Bascomb never was any good against Rockland, although he is a good man against any other team." "You wanted me to pitch to-day," said Frank. "Yes." "I might not have done any better than Woods. He is a dandy, and he can monkey with Rockland when his arm is all right. I knew you ought to take him out at the beginning of the third, and I told Diamond so. I could see that his arm was keeping him working speed, and Rockland was eating speed." "That's right," nodded Woods. "It was the best I could do that inning. No matter where I put them, they hit them out. I worked a change of pace, but that did not seem to bother them. After that inning, however, I kept them guessing." "You pitched winning ball all through the game, with the exception of that fatal inning, and it is probable those fellows would have hammered anybody that inning. They had a batting streak, and they made the most of it." Then he suddenly turned to Moslof, asking: "Do you want me to pitch for you to-morrow?" Moslof gave a jump. "Do I want you?" he exclaimed. "I should guess yes! Will you do it?" "I will." Moslof seized Merry's hand. "Old man, you have won my everlasting gratitude. To-morrow we'll put a team into the field that will paralyze Rockland. It will be such a team as Rockland or the State of Maine never saw before! Will we do 'em? Oh, say! We'll wipe 'em off the earth!" "Oh, that's not certain," cautioned Frank. "You can't be sure of a victory till it is won. Camden thought she had a sure thing to-day." "It will be different to-morrow," said Moslof. "If you pitch a winning game, the people of Camden will give you the whole town when we get back here!" "Well, I shall do my best to pitch winning ball," assured Merry. Directly after supper, which all the boys except Hans took at the Bay View, the Dutch lad being sent off aboard the _White Wings_, a buckboard with four wide seats came round for a party, and Merry was surprised to find that he was expected to be one of the party. Browning, Diamond and Hodge were included. The others were members of the Camden ball team. When the buckboard was loaded the driver cracked his whip over the four handsome horses, and away they went through town, up over Harbor Hill and along the street that led toward the foot of the mountains. Soon they were close under the cliffs of Battie. There were some splendid singers in the party, and they awoke the echoes with the old college songs. In the cool shadows of twilight they rolled along the famous turnpike, with Battie behind them and the frowning heights of Megunticook rising directly over their heads. On Maiden Cliff, standing out against the sky, they saw the white cross that marks the spot where a beautiful girl fell to her death on the cruel rocks below. At times the winding road seemed to lead directly into the lake that they could see shimmering through the trees. It was one of the most beautiful drives Merriwell had ever taken. They turned about finally and came back by the way of Lake City, a charming collection of cottages assembled at one of the most picturesque spots to be found around the island-dotted lake. The driver pointed out the spot where the famous Lake City Inn had stood before the fire that wiped out the beautiful summer hotel. By this time night had fallen, but the full moon was high in the heavens, shedding a pure white light over all and giving the scene a glamour that it could not have by day. Indeed, it was so light that the cross on Maiden Cliff could be seen even better than they had seen it in the twilight. "Now, fellows," said Moslof, "there is another place we had better visit to-night." "Where is that?" asked several. "The Summit House, on Mount Battie." "Hurrah for the Summit House!" shouted the boys. "We'll have to do some walking." "We can walk up all right." "I don't know about that," grunted Bruce Browning. "I came out to ride." "It will do you good to walk." But Bruce could not agree with Merriwell, and Moslof, laughing, said that Browning should not leave the buckboard till he was safely on the top of Battie. This relieved the big fellow's mind, and he grunted: "All right. Go ahead." Before they reached the foot of the mountain after leaving Lake City they turned off into a road that led back into the woods. Soon they came to the new road that had been constructed by the energy and determination of the shrewd owner of the hotel on the heights. This road proved to be even better than the boys had anticipated, but it was very steep in places, so that every man except Browning walked. As for Bruce, no amount of guying could induce him to get off and climb. The moonlight sifted down through the trees, making white patches amid the black shadows. There was not much air, and the walking lads were perspiring freely before they were far from the foot of the ascent; but they stuck to it, and, at last, they were relieved to come out of the winding way and see the lights of the hotel before them. With a cheer, they rushed forward toward the building. Moslof led the way round the end, and then all stopped, uttering exclamations of admiration. Below them in the white moonlight lay the village, the harbor, the bay, the great stretch of beautiful country. Hundreds of lights twinkled in the town, the electric street lamps showing white and clear and marking the limits of the village. Away to the south was Rockport, her electric lamps paled by the clear moonlight. Miles beyond Rockport was Rockland, her location also plainly marked by lights. Between Rockport and Camden a lighted trolley car was flying along. Jack Diamond drew a deep breath, and his hand fell on Frank's arm. "Merriwell," he said, "I want to thank you for bringing me down into this country. It surely is a wonderful land at this season of the year, no matter what it may be in winter. This is the most beautiful view my eyes ever rested upon." "Everybody says that," put in Moslof. "No matter where they have been, they say that." "I have traveled a little over the world," said Merriwell, "and I must say this is the most entrancing view I have ever looked upon." "I'm glad I took the trouble to come up," sighed Browning. As they were standing there, gazing enraptured upon the scene, there was a burst of girlish laughter from the hotel. Then at least a dozen girls came out upon the veranda. "What have we struck?" exclaimed Frank. "It must be a party," said Moslof. "Let's go in." Go in they did, the proprietor of the hotel meeting and welcoming them. It proved that Moslof was right, there was a party of girls up from the village, and Frank's sharp eyes found Phebe Macey was among them. Not a few of the girls were known to the boys. Those who were not known were introduced. "What a place for a dance!" thought Frank, as he looked the dining room over. "These tables could be cleared away, and then we----" He caught sight of the proprietor, and, in another moment, he drew the man aside. "If you want to dance, I'm willing," was the consent of the genial owner of the Summit House. "But where's your music? There's a fiddle here, but who can play it?" "I'll find somebody!" cried Frank, and he rushed for Diamond. But, before the dance could be started, it was found that the consent of the young lady chaperon who had accompanied the girls must be obtained. Frank approached her. At first she was not favorable, but Merriwell used diplomacy and finally won her over so that she consented to let the girls remain and dance an hour. Then there was a hustling to clear the dining room floor. The old violin was brought out and Diamond proceeded to tune up. Frank sought Phebe and asked her to waltz with him. "I don't think I will dance," she said, pretending to pout a bit. "Why not?" asked Merry, in surprise. "You do dance, do you not?" "Oh, sometimes." "And you will refuse me?" "You deserve to be refused." "Why, pray?" asked Frank, surprised. "I asked a favor of you to-day." A light broke in on Frank. "Oh, is that it? You wanted me to pitch for Camden?" "Yes." "And I didn't. Well, can't you pardon me this time?" "Really, I do not think you deserve it." "Perhaps not, but, if I promise to do better, will you----" "It's too late now." "How is that?" "Camden lost." "And might have lost just the same if I had pitched." "No," she said, with confidence, "I know all about your pitching. You would have won the game." "There is another game to-morrow." "Oh, that's in Rockland, and the Rocklands always win on their own ground." "Is that their reputation? Well, perhaps we may be able to break the spell and defeat them on their own ground once." "'We!' What do you mean by that? It can't be that you will pitch for Camden to-morrow?" "Will you waltz with me if I'll agree to do so?" "Yes," was her instant answer. "Done!" said Frank. "I'll pitch." Then Diamond struck into a beautiful waltz, and Frank and Phebe were the first on the floor, his arm about her waist, her hand gently clasped in his. CHAPTER XIV. MERRIWELL'S DOUBLE SHOOT. "Here come the Lobsters!" The cry was uttered by a small boy as the Camden ball team entered the Rockland ball ground. A great crowd had assembled in the "cigar box," as the ground was sometimes called because of its narrow limits. All Rockland had heard that Camden would have a new battery, and nearly all Rockland had heard of Merriwell and Hodge, for Frank had insisted that Bart should support him behind the plate. The fact that Rockland had won from Camden with Woods in the box made the rooters feel that their team was invincible--that it could not be defeated by Camden. They had turned out in a way to make the heart of the Rockland manager rejoice as the quarters came jingling into the cash box. The car had been delayed and the Camden team was late. It was followed by such a swarm of Camden people as had never been seen on the Rockland ball ground. This band of rooters was marshaled by a Camden man, who had instructed them to hang together and who was to lead them in the cheering. They packed in upon the bleachers near first base, as they had bought a large reserved space there and it was held for them. Rockland had finished practicing, and so the Camdens took the field. Everybody was asking where Frank Merriwell was, but no one seemed able to discover him. "It was a false report," somebody said, and then the spectators, thinking they had been deceived, began to growl. But Merriwell and Hodge had slipped into the ground in ordinary clothes and were getting into suits in the dressing room beneath the grand stand. As soon as they were dressed, they came out, and Frank began to warm up by throwing to Bart. "Here they are!" A boy uttered the cry, and then every eye seemed turned on the famous Yale battery. Among those who had been watching for Merriwell's appearance was Wat Snell. The fellow ground his teeth with rage as he saw Frank come out in a baseball suit. "He shall not win this game!" vowed Wat. "I have the stuff in my pocket that will fix him if I can get it into him." Then Snell hastily sought some chaps who were grouped in a little bunch, talking in low tones among themselves. "Mr. Bixton," said Wat, "I want to speak with you a moment." He drew one of the young men aside and whispered in his ear. Bixton scowled and nodded, answering: "I've got fifty dollars on this game." Then Snell whispered some more, but Bixton shook his head and said aloud: "They'd kill the feller they caught doin' it. French is a reg'lar fool! He wants to beat Camden, but he wouldn't win in a crooked way for a thousand dollars. He'd be the first to jump on a chap that was caught doin' up a Camden man." "He needn't know it," said Snell, and then he whispered some more, but he couldn't seem to win Bixton over. "All right," said Snell. "You'll be sorry when you lose your fifty plunks." "I ain't lost 'em yet." "You will if Frank Merriwell pitches the whole game." Practice was over, the umpire took his place and called "play," the Camden team was in the field. Merriwell walked down into the box. He wore his Yale uniform, as he had been unable to obtain a Camden uniform that would fit him. The Rockland crowd looked at Merriwell with curiosity, but all the applause he received came from the Camden rooters. At one side of the diamond were gathered twenty small boys. Usually these youngsters were full of taunts and jeers for Camden, but now they were strangely silent. One of them turned to the others and said: "Fellers, Rockland eats dirt ter-day! We kin lick anything else on ther face of ther earth, but we can't do up that battery. I've read all about Frank Merriwell, an' there ain't nothin' walks on two legs what kin pitch ball with him!" Strange to relate, he was not disputed in the assertion. The umpire broke open a box and tossed a beautiful new "Spaulding" to Merry, who caught it and rubbed a handful of dirt over it. Smithers advanced to the plate. Frank had heard that it was impossible to discover the little man's weak point, and he resolved to start right in by fooling him--if possible. Hodge knew what was coming when Merry assumed a certain attitude. Then, without any flourish, Frank shot in what seemed at the start to be a straight, swift ball. Smithers took it for an inshoot, and, in his judgment, it must be a fair ball. He swung for it, and then he dropped his bat and gasped. The ball had reversed from an in to an out, causing Smithers to miss it by at least six inches! It was Merriwell's wonderful double shoot! Those in the grand stand who had seen the double curve of the ball uttered exclamations of amazement, and some of them would not believe their eyes had not deceived them. Smithers picked up his bat, muttering: "If I'd been drinking lately I wouldn't wonder at it!" Hodge returned the ball, and in a moment Merry was ready to deliver again. Smithers fancied he had been deceived by his eyes, and so, when Frank pitched another ball that was exactly like the first, he smashed at it again. And missed again! There was a commotion in the grand stand. A loud voice was heard declaring the ball had curved in and out, and that Merriwell was a wizard. Another person was speaking soothingly to the excited individual. Not a sound from the Camden rooters, for their leader was holding them in check. He had not given the signal for applause. On all the ground there was no man half as amazed as Smithers. He fancied he had batted all kinds of pitching, but here was something new to him. There was a hush as Frank again assumed position for delivery. Smithers assumed a look of determination and made ready. Then the Yale pitcher shot in another ball, this time changing his curves so the sphere started with an out and suddenly changed to an in. Seeing it was an out at the start, Smithers instantly decided that it must go beyond his reach. When it changed to an in, and passed over the plate, it was too late to get his bat round, and so he stood with the "wagon tongue" poised, not even having offered at it. "Three strikes--out!" called the umpire. Then the Camden crowd could be held no longer. Never before had Smithers been struck out like that. But three balls had been pitched, and yet, the crack batter of the Rocklands, a man without a weak point, was retired. The men and boys from under Megunticook rose up and yelled like a thousand fiends. They felt that a man who could strike Smithers out like that would have a snap with the rest of the team, and the joy in their hearts knew no bounds. For once the Rockland rooters were silent. They did not even have sufficient nerve left to guy the Camdenites. They stared and stared at the man who had struck out Smithers with three pitched balls, and their dismay and disgust knew no bounds. "What's the matter that Rockland didn't get that feller?" growled one. "It was a fool trick to let Camden get him!" Smithers walked to the bench and sat down in a dazed way, muttering: "Well, I'll be blowed!" Edwards picked up a bat and advanced to the plate with his usual swagger. "Just try that on me," he invited. Instantly Frank decided to do so. Bart was ready, and Merry snapped in a swift one, giving it the double curve. Edwards let it pass. "One strike!" cried the umpire. A roar from the Camden crowd. Bart sent back the ball. Edwards grinned and then scowled. He made ready. Frank reversed the curves and drove in a whistler that could scarcely be seen as it passed through the air. This time Edwards struck, but he found only empty air. "Two strikes!" from the umpire. Another roar from the Camden crowd. Edwards began to look doubtful. "What are we up against?" he muttered to himself. Merriwell took his time to pitch the third ball. All at once he seemed to send in one like the last. Edwards believed the double curve would cause it to cross over the plate, and he struck at it. It proved to be a straight ball, and Edwards never touched it! "Striker is out!" decided the umpire. It is impossible to describe the tumult that followed. For once, at least, Camden was well represented on the Rockland ground, and the rooters for the boys in crimson could not make noise enough. Their hour of triumph had arrived, and they were making the most of it. Edwards looked sour enough as he went to the bench. "What's the matter?" asked Gulsiver, who was swinging two bats so that one would seem lighter to him when he came to strike. "That Yale chap is the devil!" growled Edwards. Gulsiver was a college man and a fine fellow. He had played with Camden the previous season, and Camden was sorry it did not have him that year. He looked anxious but determined to do his best as he went to the plate. Frank had decided that he was using the double shoot altogether too much, for it would soon put a kink in his elbow if he kept it up. He had used it on Edwards because the Rockland shortstop had challenged him to do so. Gulsiver was tried with a coaxer, but he let it pass. Then Frank gave him a rise, and he hit it. The ball popped up into the air and fell into Merriwell's hands, retiring Rockland on eight pitched balls, without a single batter getting started toward first base. The Camden crowd was happy, and the Rocklandites were disgusted. But Rockland had a pitcher who more than once proved a hoodoo for Camden. The redoubtable "Grandpa" Morse was to go into the box this day. There had been a time when Morse could scare the Camden players with his speed and fool them with his "southpaw" delivery. Rockland hoped that time had not passed, even though the rooters of the Limerock City were aware that Morse was not dealing with tenderfeet this day. Moslof had placed Hodge at the head of the batting list at Merriwell's suggestion. Bart picked up a heavy stick and advanced to the plate, as Morse entered the box. The Rockland men were in their places on the field. Morse was working his jaw over a chew of gum. He had a glove on his right hand, and with this he covered the ball so it could not be seen. At the very start Merriwell made a kick about this, and Morse was forced to show the ball in his hand. He grinned at Frank with an expression that seemed to say he would get even, and then, putting on all the steam at his command, he sent a high ball over the plate, thinking to daze Hodge with his speed. Hodge swung at it, hit it fairly without much effort, and put it over the center field fence, trotting around the bases to the music of the cheers of the Camden crowd. Then Morse was riled. Williamson came next, and "Grandpa" struck him out, giving the Rocklandites a chance to yell a little. Cogern followed, and made a hard try for the center field fence, but Gulsiver got back against the fence, reached up into the air and pulled the ball down, to the increased delight of the Rockland spectators. McDornick was too anxious, and he hit an easy roller to Edwards, who threw him out at first. But the first inning had ended one to nothing in Camden's favor. Then Merriwell went into the box again, but he did not attempt to work his double shoot till Rockland had filled the bases with a hit, a wild throw by Mower and a dropped fly by McDornick, followed by a poor throw to third. Now Rockland thought her time had come. The coachers were doing their best to rattle Merriwell, aided by the yelling crowd, but Frank never was cooler in his life. He struck out the next man, and the next popped up a little fly to Makune. Then Merry took a hot liner from the next batter, and Rockland did not score. Then Bixton hunted up Snell. "I'll give you ten dollars to get that drug into Merriwell," he said. "Furnish me with a boy to pass Merriwell the water and I'll do it," said Snell. "Merriwell would suspect me." Bixton found the boy, and the plot to knock Frank out was laid. Snell called the boy aside and gave him full instructions. "Here is a little vial," he explained. "All you have to do is stick by the water bucket at the end of the Camden bench. Keep this vial in your hand uncorked and ready. You can keep it out of sight. When Merriwell wants a drink, it will be easy for you to drop some of the stuff in the vial into the bucket. As soon as he drinks, upset the bucket, so nobody else will get any of the stuff. Here's ten dollars for you." The boy took the vial and the ten dollars. Then, when Snell was not watching him, he looked around for French, the Rockland manager, found him and told him the whole plot. French was furious. "I wouldn't have that happen on this ground for a hundred dollars!" he declared. "Point out the fellow who hired you to do this, and I will have him arrested! We are winning no games in that way!" The boy pointed Snell out, and, five minutes later, Wat turned pale as an officer tapped him on the shoulder and said: "Come with me. Don't make any fuss, or the crowd will find out that you hired a boy to drug Frank Merriwell. You'll be lynched if they do find it out." Snell could not say a word. With the officer's hand on his shoulder, he was marched off the ground, while the crowd wondered why he had been arrested. Bixton, the crooked sport, saw this, and it did not take him long to disappear. So the plot to knock Merriwell out was frustrated, and Frank pitched the game through, giving Rockland just four hits. At the end of the eighth inning the score stood two to one in favor of Camden. With the beginning of the ninth a combination of bad plays placed a Rockland man on third, with one man out. Then the next batter drove out a long fly to Cogern, and the man on third attempted to score on it. Cogern made the throw of his life, nailing the runner at the plate and spoiling Rockland's last chance. The game was over, and Camden had won by a score of two to one. It had been a beautiful game, and once more Camden and Rockland were tied for first place in the Knox County League. The Camden rooters were happy, while the Rockland spectators melted away and disappeared from view with amazing suddenness when the last man was out. It was plain enough that the Rockland people expected the visitors to celebrate as Rockland had done in Camden, but nothing of the kind was permitted. Still it was a joyful crowd that loaded the two trolley cars and went through the main street of the city singing: "Boom-ta-de-aye, boom-ta-de-aye, De-boom-ta, de-boom-ta, de-boora-ta-de-aye; We won to-day, we won to-day, Oh, we won, oh, we won, oh, we won to-day." As they passed the _Star_ office the bulletin was out: "Baseball To-day: "Camden, 2; Rockland, 1." The crowd on the cars cheered as they passed the bulletin, and they sang all the way to Camden. But when those cars entered Camden what a reception awaited the victors! It seemed that half the town had turned out to meet them. Everybody had a horn. As the first car, carrying the ball players, approached the opera house there was a deafening blare of sound, and the explosion of cannon crackers, and cheer after cheer rent the air. The moment the car stopped Frank Merriwell was torn from his seat by admirers, was lifted to the shoulders of sturdy fellows and carried to the hotel without being allowed to touch his feet to the ground, while the throng surged around him and shouted. An hour later, as he sat in the office of the hotel, surrounded by friends and admirers, he said: "Fellows, I'd like to spend the rest of the summer right here in this town. It's all right! I'm glad I've found Camden, and you may be sure it's not the last time I shall stop here." Then the mayor of the town, who happened to be present, said: "Mr. Merriwell, Camden belongs to you. If there is anything here that you want, take it. If you don't see what you want, ask for it. I don't know that we can do any better by you than that." That evening Landlord Drayben gave the baseball boys a dinner at the hotel, and there were speeches and toasts and cheers for Merriwell. After the dinner the dining room was cleared, an orchestra appeared, and there was dancing. Again Frank was the first on the floor, with Phebe Macey as his partner. And Phebe was the happiest girl in Camden that night. CHAPTER XV. OFF FOR BAR HARBOR. It was nearly midnight when a boat containing four lads pushed out from Fish Market Wharf and pulled down Camden harbor toward the fleet of yachts that lay anchored in Dillingham's Cove. The moon had dropped down into the west, but it still shed its pure white light on the unrippled water of the harbor, and, despite the lateness of the hour, several boating parties were out. From away toward the Spindles came the sound of a song, in which four musical voices blended harmoniously. Nothing stirs the entire soul with a sense of the beautiful like the sound of a distant song floating over the silvered bosom of a peaceful bay or lake on a moonlight night in midsummer. Hodge and Diamond, who were rowing the boat, rested on their oars, and the four lads listened a long time. "Beautiful!" murmured Merriwell, who was sitting in the stern of the boat, the rudder lines in his hands. Browning grunted. "The yelling of the Camden crowd on the Rockland ball ground to-day sounded better to me," he said. Quoth Merriwell: "'The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, strategems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.'" "Huah!" said Bruce. "Talk about a 'concord of sweet sounds,' what could be sweeter than the howls of those baseball rooters when you worked your double shoot on the Rockland batters and kept them fanning the breeze? That was what I call music!" "Fellows," sighed Frank, "this has been a lively day." "It certainly has," nodded Hodge. "Things move in a hurry down here at this season of the year," put in Diamond. "It's rather too lively for me," confessed Merriwell. "I am stuck on Camden, but I must get out of it right away." "Why?" asked the others, in a breath. "The people here will not give me any rest. If I remain, it will be impossible for me to refuse to play ball with the Camden team, and I did not come down here for that. Why, I could have a hundred dollars a week if I would play with Camden. Money doesn't seem to be of value to the people here, now that they think I can beat Rockland every time I go into the box. They are ready to give up anything to beat Rockland. I haven't any grudge against Rockland. In fact, if what I hear about Wat Snell's attempt to drug me is true, I have every reason to be grateful toward Manager French, for he caused Snell's arrest, and it is likely that Wat is languishing in the Rockland lockup to-night." "That fellow will land in prison all right," said Diamond. "He is the most vindictive creature I ever saw." "If French pushes him, he may be shut up for a while down this way," observed Hodge. "I was going to spend a week up there on the mountain," said Jack, looking toward the top of Battie, where the lights of the Summit House were still gleaming, despite the hour. "If we get out of here in a rush, I'll not get up there again." "We were there last night," said Frank. "That was a jolly time, and no one expected it. After dancing on the mountain last night, pitching a game of ball to-day and then dancing at the Bay View to-night, I am ready to rest to-morrow." Browning grunted again. "I believe you are getting frightened," he yawned. "Of what?" "The girl with the roguish eyes." "Phebe?" "Sure." "Why should I be frightened of her?" "She has hypnotized you with those eyes. Notice how often he danced with her, fellows? Inza Burrage is down this way, and----" "She is in Bar Harbor now." "Well, that's not far. You are counting on getting away from Phebe before she weaves her spell about you so you can't break away." "It's wonderful how you read a fellow," laughed Merriwell. "You should go into the mind-reading business. Anyhow, we'll get up anchor early, if there is a breeze, and leave Camden behind us." "For good?" asked Diamond, anxiously. "Oh, perhaps not for good. We may drop in here on our way back. Can't tell just what we will feel like doing." A boat was gliding past them. It came near enough for its occupants to recognize the lads in the other boat. Somebody said: "It's Merriwell and his party." Then a feminine voice called: "Hello, Frank Merriwell. You are a dandy!" "Thank you," said Frank, laughing. "There are others." "Not in your class," was the quick retort. "You are the only one of the kind." "Who was that?" asked Diamond, as the boat passed on. "Couldn't tell you, my boy," answered Frank. "Why, that's strange! She spoke to you as if she knew you. Familiar for a stranger!" "Evidently she is intoxicated--by the moonlight," grunted Browning. "If we stay down this way long, I fancy we'll find there is considerable freedom at these summer resorts," said Merry. "People do not always wait for introductions down here. But the girl in that boat would not have spoken had it been in the daytime. She knew I could not recognize her, and that is how she ventured to do it." "Well, let's get on board," urged Bruce. "I'm tired, and I want to turn in." "Pull away," directed Frank, and the boys began rowing again. They passed other rowboats, and the sound of voices and laughter came over the moon-burnished bosom of the harbor. On board one of the yachts not far from the _White Wings_ a jolly party had gathered. Somebody was picking away at a guitar and softly humming the latest song. Others were chatting and laughing. The yacht was decorated with Chinese lanterns and was burning bright lights. "Those lights would look better if there wasn't any moon," observed Diamond. As they approached the _White Wings_ a figure suddenly arose on the deck and leveled something at the boat, while a voice called: "Stood still vere I vos und gafe der coundersign! Uf I don'd done dot you vill oben vire onto me!" "Here, here, Hans!" exclaimed Merry. "What are you trying to do--shoot us? Be careful with that gun!" "Vos dot you, Vrankie?" asked the faithful Dutch boy, lowering the gun. "Vale, I don'd vant to make no mistook, und so I peen careful not to led any vellers come apoard uf me vot I don'd vant to seen. I vos glad you haf camed." They ran up to the sloop and were soon on board. It was necessary to tell Hans what had happened that day, but he simply said: "Oh, I knew how dot vould peen all der dime. Uf course Vrankie blayed marples mit Rocklandt." That night they slept well in their berths, for a cool breeze sprang up about midnight, so the cabin of the yacht was not too warm, and there was the gentlest of rocking motions to lull their senses. Frank was astir at daybreak, and it did not take him long to turn the others out when he discovered there was a land breeze. "It's just what we want," he said. "We must get away in a hurry, fellows. We can take our breakfast after we get outside the harbor." So the anchor was raised, the sails run up in a hurry, and the _White Wings_, with Frank at the wheel, headed for the Spindles. At sunrise she was outside the harbor's mouth, with her course set due east. Outside the harbor there was a strong, steady breeze, and it was not long before the twin mountains of Camden began to sink into the purple morning mists. CHAPTER XVI. DIAMOND'S PLANS. The season at Bar Harbor was at its height, and the most famous resort on the coast of Maine was overflowing with rich, fashionable and famous people. Congressmen and their families were there, millionaires from various parts of the country were there, titled persons from abroad were there. Frenchman's Bay was almost crowded with yachts, and excursions were pouring into the town by the railroad and by steamboats. There were drives by day, excursions to various points about the bay, and by night there were hops at the hotels, strolls in the moonlight, and gay times on board the yachts that clustered in the harbor. Two days at Bar Harbor made Frank and his friends long to get away. "This isn't much like Camden, don't you know," yawned Browning, as he rolled into his berth on the afternoon of the second day. "We made a mistake in running away from that town in a hurry." "You know why we did it," said Frank, quickly. "We were too well known there. Now, over here we have been discreet and kept our identity secret. That was not such a task, either, for I do not fancy one out of a thousand of these people ever heard anything about any of us, or would take the trouble to turn round to look after us if they had heard of us and knew who we were. By Jove! I find it rather agreeable, fellows!" "Oh, that's all right," nodded Diamond. "I don't fancy notoriety any more than you do, Merry; but there is something about the atmosphere here that I don't quite relish, although I can't tell what it is." Frank laughed. "I fancy I know what it is, old man." "Then let me into the mystery." "It is the air of commercial aristocracy these people wear. Now, by birth and breeding, Diamond, you are a true aristocrat, but with you blood is everything, and it rather galls you to witness the boorish air of superiority assumed by some of these millionaire pork packers with neither education nor refinement. I don't wonder. When you came to Yale you had some silly notions about aristocracy, but you have gotten over them to a certain extent, so that now you recognize a gentleman as a gentleman, even though his father was a day laborer; but you realize that no man is a gentleman simply because he is worth several million dollars and has a daughter he is trying to marry off to a foreigner with a title and a blasted reputation. We are getting nearer together in our ideas every day, Diamond, whether you realize it or not. These money-made aristocrats with their boorish manners and their inability to speak or spell the English language correctly are quite as repugnant to me as they are to you. There are plenty of such society people here, and they are making you tired, old man. I don't wonder. I am becoming a trifle fatigued myself." "Yaw," grunted Hans, who had been listening with an owlish look of wisdom on his full-moon face, "vot makes me dired vos dose beoble vot don'd knew how to speak der English language mitoudt a misdake makin' their spelling in." "I can't say that I relish Bar Harbor so very much," said Hodge, speaking for the first time. "I think I have seen enough of it." "Let's move," grunted Browning. "Oh, you will trouble yourself a lot about moving!" laughed Frank. "I'll move when the yacht does." "And help get up the anchor?" "Oh, say, I'll pay Hans to do my share of pulling on the anchor line! My heart is weak, and I am liable to strain it by overexertion." "You are not at all liable to, for you will not overexert yourself." "If we leave Bar Harbor, where shall we go, fellows?" asked Diamond. "Oh, there are plenty of places," assured Frank. "Mention some of them." "As you know, Penobscot Bay is full of islands, and on some of those islands are villages. Now, it is my belief that some of those villages would be interesting places to visit." "A good suggestion." "We might run down to Green's Landing or Isle au Haut." "Say!" exclaimed Diamond. "Say it." "I have an idea." "Vos dot as pad as der rheumadisms?" asked Hans, innocently. "Vere did id hurt me most?" "Let's invite the girls," said Jack. "Inza and Paula?" "Yes." "Huah!" grunted Browning, from his berth. "Anybody might have known it! Think of John Diamond, of Virginia, getting soft on a Boston girl! Ha! ha! ha!" The big fellow's words and laughter irritated Diamond, and he snapped: "I don't see what there is so very funny about that!" Then Browning laughed all the more, saying: "You see, he doesn't deny it, fellows. I suspected it when they met in Rockland. It was a case of love at first sight." "Paula Benjamin is a splendid girl," said Frank, "and you are stuck on her yourself, Browning. Jealousy is what ails you." The big fellow flopped over in his berth with remarkable suddenness, his face becoming wonderfully red. "Now, look here, Merriwell," he exclaimed, "that won't go down with this crowd. You all know I don't care a rap about girls, and----" "Vot made you got so red aroundt der gills, Pruce?" chuckled Hans. "Dot peen a deadt gife avay." Jack was glad the tables were turned, and he joined in the general laugh. "Oh, go to thunder, the whole of you!" roared Browning, as he again flopped over in his berth. "What would we do with the girls?" asked Hodge. "We have not sufficient room on the boat to accommodate them here, and----" "There must be some sort of a hotel at Green's Landing," said Diamond, quickly. "Of course, Miss Gale, Inza's aunt, would go along as chaperon." "Well, it would be a change from Bar Harbor," said Frank. "This place is too much like all other fashionable seaside resorts to suit me, and still I do not feel like running away and leaving the girls. They would think it a mean trick if we were to do so so soon." "Perhaps they won't go," said Hodge, who did not seem much in favor of the project. "Well, we can ask them," spoke up Diamond, quickly. "I am to see Inza this evening, and I'll find out about it," said Frank. "If they can go, we want to get away bright and early to-morrow, providing there is a breeze." CHAPTER XVII. THE MAN WHO SAW THE MONSTER. The girls gladly welcomed the plan, for they felt there would be much pleasure in a cruise among the islands of the bay. At first, however, Miss Gale was opposed to it, but Frank won her over, as Inza felt certain he could. So the next morning the girls appeared on the pier at an early hour, accompanied by the stern-faced but kind-hearted old maid, having been brought down from the hotel by a carriage. The boys were on the watch for them, and a boat, containing Frank and Jack, pushed off from the _White Wings_ immediately. The girls, the chaperon, the baggage--all were taken into the boat and soon set aboard the yacht. Half an hour later, with all sails set, the _White Wings_ was running out to round the end of the breakwater. With favorable wind and conditions, it is just a delightful half-day's cruise from Bar Harbor to Green's Landing. Off Southwest Harbor the wind proved something of a gale, as nothing in the shape of land lay between them and the open ocean, from which the wind swept in powerfully. Although the yacht buried her starboard rail at times and fairly hissed through the water, Frank did not take a reef in a single sail, for there were no squalls, and, "corinthian" though he was, he was gaining confidence in his ability to handle the _White Wings_. Paula was rather timid, but Inza enjoyed every moment of the sail. With a position near Frank, who was at the wheel, she chatted and laughed, not in the least affected by the motion or the heeling of the sloop. Remarkable to state, Browning did not remain below and sleep in his bunk, as was his custom. He came on deck, looking remarkably wide awake, and he made himself agreeable to the girls and Miss Gale. There was not swell enough to make anyone seasick, which added to the pleasures of the cruise. Diamond was doing his best to make himself agreeable to Paula, and she seemed to find his company acceptable, but after a time she called Bruce to her, so that she was between them. "Don't you think Mr. Merriwell very reckless, Mr. Browning?" she asked. "Mr. Diamond insists there is no danger, but just see how frightfully the yacht tips at times?" "Of course, I wouldn't want to frighten you, Miss Benjamin," said Bruce, giving her a significant look and winking toward Jack; "but we all know Frank Merriwell's a veritable landlubber, and he hasn't any more judgment about running a boat like this than a four-year-old youngster." Paula looked alarmed at this, and Diamond muttered something under his breath. When Jack was not looking, Bruce gave the Boston girl a reassuring smile, whispering: "Not the least danger in the world, Miss Benjamin." She looked relieved, and then a mischievous expression flitted over her face, for she understood Browning's little game. Immediately she pretended to be both frightened and indignant with Diamond. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Diamond could not deceive me. I was sure there was great danger." "Of course," said the big fellow, in his peculiar way, "we may reach Green's Landing in safety, but the chances are against it. However, if we are capsized, I shall not fail to assist you in getting to the mainland, Miss Benjamin." "How thoughtful of you!" she murmured, nestling a bit nearer the big fellow, while Jack ground his teeth and looked as if he longed to murder somebody. "How far away is the mainland?" "Only about five miles--a short walk. Hem! I mean a short swim." Diamond sourly observed: "Without doubt, you could walk it much easier than you could swim it, Mr. Browning." "Oh, that is an easy swim," said Bruce, offhand. "I have often swam ten or fifteen miles. Without doubt, I could get Miss Benjamin safely ashore." "It is nice to have such a wonderful swimmer near one--I feel so safe now," said Paula. Under his breath the Virginian growled something that sounded like "confounded liar." "Eh?" said Bruce. "What were you saying, sir?" But Jack looked away, pretending to be interested in a distant island. He showed his anger so plainly that Paula was aroused to tease him still more, and she turned to chat confidentially with Bruce. Jack could not stand that a great while. With a sudden assumption of having forgotten something, he politely excused himself and went below. He did not come on deck again till Green's Landing was in sight, although he missed the most captivating portion of the sail across the Eastern Bay. As for Browning, he had started into the affair in jest, but he grew more and more interested in Paula as they talked during the sail. He found her remarkably bright and sensible and not at all "flighty." She talked to him of things in which he was interested, and he was astonished by the knowledge she displayed concerning some things of which he had not fancied she was posted in the least. On the other hand, the Boston girl was astonished to find in Bruce, who had on first acquaintance seemed somewhat slow and dull, a fellow who was interesting in various ways, who did not talk nonsense to her the moment the opportunity offered to say something that she alone could hear, who had an air of dignity and was not at all self-conscious. Never before in all his life had Bruce made a better appearance, and, long before Green's Landing was sighted, Paula had quite forgotten that Diamond had left them and had not returned. There were other vessels and yachts in the harbor at Green's Landing, more of them than any of the party had expected to see there. In fact, there was an air of prosperity about the town built on the slope facing the harbor, although there were no large and attractive buildings, and the houses seemed scattered about in a helter-skelter manner. The _White Wings_ ran in amid the vessels and swung up her head to the wind, her anchor going over with a splash and her sails coming down as if the halyards were handled by veteran yachtsmen, instead of a lot of amateurs. In fact, Merriwell had sailed the boat like one familiar with the Eastern Bay, seeming to fear no dangers from sunken ledges and shoals, and his air was that of a veteran yachtsman. But he had spent hours over his chart, so that he was perfectly familiar with its appearance, and he could have drawn from memory a practically perfect chart, marking every ledge, every shoal and every island, and giving them their correct names. Having become thus familiar with the chart, it was not so strange that he had been able to sail across the Eastern Bay as if it were the open sea. Having come to anchor, Paula was for going ashore at once, but Frank urged them to remain and take lunch on board the yacht, and Inza was pleased with the idea, so they stopped. That was a jolly luncheon. There was plenty to eat, and plenty of light drinks, kept cool by the fresh supply of ice taken in at Bar Harbor. The sailors on board the vessels in the vicinity looked on with interest, envying the merry party. Not all on the _White Wings_ were merry. Jack Diamond was silent, and not once did a smile cross his face. Paula tried to cheer him up, but she did not succeed at all, and so she finally gave up in despair, again turning to Browning. An hour after luncheon was over, Bruce and Frank set the girls and Miss Gale ashore, carrying their luggage up to the hotel, where accommodations were obtained. "We will leave here to-morrow, if you get enough of the place in that time," said Frank, having seen them to their rooms. He went down into the office of the hotel, where several rough-looking men were listening to the yarn of a red-headed, red-bearded man in rubber boots. Bruce seemed to be listening to the story, and, when Frank said something about going out, he grunted: "Wait a minute." "Yes, sir," said the red-headed man, squirting a stream of tobacco juice at the stove, which was well plastered with it already, "I have seen the critter, and I know, by huck, it ain't no lie. He's right there on the island, and if he ain't the Old Devil hisself, he's clost relation to him." "Now, I pull my traps right down past there every day," said an old lobster fisherman, "and I swanny I ain't never seen northing of this here pesky critter. Ef Jeb warn't sech a dinged liar," with a jerk of his thumb toward the red-headed man, "I'd jest go down there myself and spend some time a-huntin' this critter with horns an' hoofs an' glarin' eyes. I'd find out what sort of a critter it was." "Oh, yes!" returned the one who had been derisively designated as a liar, "ef you wasn't sech a darn coward, you might do something of the kind, Sile; but you are the biggest coward this side of Long Islan', so the critter down on Devil Island won't git bothered by you none to mention." This was said with the utmost calmness, the speaker not seeming in the least excited by being called a liar, nor did the man he had designated as a coward do anything more than grunt derisively and remark: "That's all right, Jeb. Don't nobody take no stock in what you say, and, though this yarn about a critter on Devil Island has been goin' abaout a year, I don't know a mortal bein' whose word is wu'th a cod line that ever said he saw the varmint. Whut you're looking for is notyrietiveness, an' that's why ye're tellin' such stuff." "I know whut I seen, an' I'll swan to man that I did see the Monster of Devil Island, as folks round here call him. I'd been down to York Island in my pinkey, and was tryin' to git back here before night, but the wind died out jest at dark, an' I made up my mind I might as well hang up in Bold Island harbor as to spend half the night gittin' to the landin', an' take a chance of straddlin' a ledge. I got inter the harbor all right, an' kinder thought I'd try ter root out a few clams on Bold Island beach. My old boat laid nearer to the back of Devil Island than it did to Bold Island. I rowed off to Bold Island in my dory, but the tide was comin' in, an' I didn't git no clams to speak of. It was plum dark when I pulled back to the pinkey. Jest as I run alongside, I heered a sound that riz my hair, by huck! It was kinder like a groan and a smothered screech, an' I swan to man if it didn't seem to come right out of my pinkey! Scart! Waal, it did give me something of a jump, an' that I won't deny. If Sile had a-bin there he'd kerwollopsed. I riz right up with an oar in my hand, ready to slam it over ther head uf any dad-bum thing that wiggled round the pinkey. Jest then I heard that sound ag'in, an' I made out it come from the point of rocks that makes off inter ther harber. I looked that way, an' jest then ther consarnedest varmint I ever sot eyes onto riz right up from behind some rocks----" "There ye go!" cried Sile, triumphantly. "Why, you was jest tellin' it was so dark ye could scarst see to the island! How was you able to see this critter jump up from behind the rocks?" "If you'll wait till I tell the story, mebbe you'll find out." "Humph! Go ahead with yer yarn." "Ez I said, up jumped this critter. His face was all burnin', like fire, and his eyes was just like two black holes. Fellers what have told how his eyes shined and flashed ain't never seen him, for I'll swan his eyes was jest two black holes in his head. He waved his hands in the air, an' them hands shone fiery same as his face. Then he let out a screech that might have been heard down to ther Spoon Islands, an' away he went up over the rocks and inter the woods. Say, I ain't easy skeered, but I will admit I was a bit shaky then. I jest got inter the pinkey, pulled ther anchor, then tumbled back inter ther dory an' took ther old pinkey in tow. I wasn't very long gittin' out of Bold Island harbor, neether. I wouldn't 'a' stayed there that night fer a hundred billion dollars! I towed the pinkey clean to the Landin', an' you don't git me round Devil Island ag'in arter dark, by huck!" "What do you think of that yarn, Browning?" asked Frank, speaking softly into the big fellow's ear. "Huah!" grunted Bruce. "I think Sile was all right in calling Jeb a liar." "I have heard that these fishermen are remarkable at drawing the long bow." "And Jeb is an artist." Some of those who had listened to the fisherman's story did not accept it with such scorn as the lobster catcher had evinced. There was a sound of excited voices when Jeb had finished, and one young fellow with a hunchback and a cunning face jumped up, crying: "It ain't no lie, an' I'll swan ter that! I've seen ther old critter on Devil Island myself, though I ain't bin tellin' much about it, fer I knowed every dern critter on Deer Island would call me a thunderin' liar." "There, by huck!" cried Jeb. "Now whut do you think of that? You hear whut Put Wiley has to say!" "Oh, yes, we hear it," drawled Sile, who was calmly filling a black pipe. "But Put allwus was seein' queer things that nobody else could see. I s'pose he dreamed that he saw the demon of Devil Island." "It waren't no dream," fiercely declared the hunchback. "I saw the critter when I was on the island--more'n that, the varmint chased me." "Hey?" cried several, the excitement increasing. "I'll swan to it!" declared Put, stanchly. "When did all this take place?" asked one of the listeners. "Last Sunday." "And we never heard of it before? Say, Put, I never knowed you to tell anything crooked, but it's a big yarn you're givin' us now. If all this happened last Sunday, why ain't you told of it afore?" "In the fust place, 'cause I was darn scart. In the second place, 'cause I knowed everybody'd think I was lyin'." "How did you happen to be down there on Devil Island Sunday?" "Last time Jerry Peg was in Bold Island harbor he said he saw a partridge fly up on the shore of Devil Island. He went ashore an' tried to shoot her. He didn't shoot her, but he said he scart up six or eight others in the thick woods. He come away without gittin' one of them. Sunday I didn't have northing to do, so I loaded up my old gun and rowed over to Devil Island. Didn't git there till three in the afternoon. Beached my dory an' hitched the painter to a tree. Wisht I hedn't hitched her arterward. Took out my old gun and went up inter ther spruces. Tramped round to ther old stone quarry one way, but didn't see northing. Turned and tramped clean roun' to t'other end of the island. Scart up two partridges and fired at 'em both. Knocked down the second one. Then I chased t'other, scarin' him up and scarin' him up, but never gittin' him, though I fired at him twict. I was mad. Said I'd stay right there an' hunt that dern partridge till ther Eastern Bay froze over, but I'd git the thing. Arter a while I couldn't fin' him at all, but I kept prowlin' round in the woods till it was beginnin' to git dark. I heard somethin' like a rustlin' under some cedars and saw somethin' move. Then I ups and fires. When I done that there was a yell that might have been heard clean down to ther Hosses. Out of them cedars came a critter that I swan was the old devil him own self! He had horns, an' he had a fiery face and hands, an' he had black holes fer eyes, jest as Jeb told it, and he had a red-hot spear of iron in his hand. He run at me to stick that spear inter me. I know he was goin' to spear me and then kerry me down below fer shootin' partridges Sunday. He waren't more'n six feet of me when I poked out my old gun an' fired the second barrel right inter his face and eyes. It never bothered him a bit. Run? Why, I flew! Never kivered ground so fast before, an' I never 'spect to ag'in. I bet sometimes I jumped as much as fifteen feet to a leap." The speaker took out a dirty handkerchief and mopped the big drops of perspiration off his face. He was shaking with excitement, and his eyes gleamed. He showed every symptom of extreme terror as he related the story, and it seemed plain enough that he believed every word he was uttering. "Go on!" cried several. "I don't know how I ever got away," said the hunchback, huskily. "I do know that monster was chasin' me right through the woods, tryin' to ram his spear inter my back as if I was a flounder an' he was arter lobster bait. I managed to hold onter my old gun, though at the time I didn't know I was a-doin' of it. If I hed stopped ter think, I'd throwed the gun erway. When I came out ter ther bank nigh ter whar my dory was hitched, I made a jump that took me clean from ther top to ther bottom. It seems as if right when I was in ther air I thought how that bo't was tied with her painter, an' I rammed my hand inter my pocket fer my knife. When I got ter ther boat I had the knife in my hand. I flung ther gun in an' yanked open ther knife jest as ther critter came down over ther bank arter me, an' he sailed down where I had jumped. I saw him do it, and I know he spread out some red things like wings. I don't say they was wings, but they looked like wings. I yanked open my knife and I cut the painter. The tide was in, and the dory was afloat, which was a good thing fer me, for when I jumped in I gave her a shove that sent her away from the shore. I got ther oars inter ther water and pulled. The critter didn't chase me any arter it reached the edge of the water." Again the excited speaker wiped his face with the soiled handkerchief, and then he sat down in a chair, as if the remembrance of the adventure had taken all the strength out of him. He was shaking all over. Frank Merriwell and Bruce Browning looked at each other. "How is that for a vivid imagination?" grunted the big fellow. "It's pretty good, but he seems to believe it himself," said Frank. "He does act that way," confessed Bruce. "I am getting interested," declared Frank. "When I get a chance, I shall visit Devil Island." "Where is it?" "Not far from here, if I remember right." "If I thought there was anything down there worth seeing, I wouldn't mind going myself," said the big Yale man; "but these fishermen are such confounded liars that you can't tell." Those who had been listening to the story were urging the hunchback to tell some more. After a little time, he stopped wiping his face and said: "That's all. The critter turned tail and disappeared, while I nigh pulled my arms out gittin' away. Anybody that wants to can go nosin' round Devil Island, but Put Wiley will keep away. Next time the critter'd git me sure." "Now, whut do ye think of that, Sile Collins?" cried Jeb, triumphantly. "If I'm a liar, I ain't ther only one on Deer Island." "Humph!" grunted Sile. "Let a yarn like this git started, an' half the folks that go near Devil Island will see this ere critter. Some folks is great at seein' such things." But his appearance of ridicule did not disguise the fact that he had been impressed by the story of the hunchback. "Devil Island alwus hes bin haunted," declared one of the listeners. "That's why it's deserted ter-day. The quarry ain't worked out, but the big boardin' house stands empty on the island; the house ain't occupied----" "Sence that woman from Rockland lived in it," broke in another. "She didn't live there long. I guess she saw things on the island that made her reddy to git off." "Queer freak for a woman to live there all alone, anyhow," observed Jeb. "We used to see her round the house or on the shore when we run down past the island, but all to once she was gone." "Sence then," put in a man who had not spoken before, "I've seen lights in the winders of the old boardin' house at night and in the winders of the other house, though I've never ketched a glimp of a livin' critter movin' on the island by day." "Oh, it's haunted," nodded the one who had declared so before. "Anybody what wants to can go foolin' round there, but I'm goin' to keep away." He rose to his feet. He was tall and thin, with a broken nose that seemed to tell the story of some fierce fight at an island dance. His starboard eye was crooked, so that it was difficult to tell just which way he was looking. He took in a fresh chew of tobacco and slouched out of the hotel. "This is a place to see odd characters," said Merriwell. Browning nodded. They listened to the men who remained, and for some time there was an animated discussion about the creature on Devil Island. In the midst of it the hunchback left the room. "I want to have a talk with that fellow," said Frank. "Come on." They followed the hunchback outside. "Wait a minute, if you please," called Frank, hurrying after the hunchback. The fellow paused and turned round. "What do ye want?" he asked. His voice was harsh and unpleasant, and there was a suspicious look in his eyes. "I heard your story about the creature you saw on Devil Island," said Frank. "Waal, what of it?" "My yacht is out there in the harbor, and I am thinking of taking her and running down to Devil Island. I have a great desire to get a look at the monster. You spoke about Bold Island harbor, and I want to find out just how to get in there and how near I can anchor to Devil Island." The light in the eyes of the hunchback seemed to shift in a queer way as he stared at Frank. Browning had come up and was watching the fellow closely. "You keep away from Devil Island!" almost snarled Put Wiley, as the deformed fellow had been called. "You don't know what you'll strike there, and----" "I'll take my chances on that. All I want of you is to tell me the best place to lay while I am down there. I want the _White Wings_ in a good harbor if a storm should come up." "Waal, I don't tell ye northing about it. All I've got ter say is keep away." Then, despite Frank's effort to say something more to the fellow, he hurried away. "Well, that's a really jolly chap!" observed Browning. "All of that," laughed Frank. "He didn't seem to like your appearance, Merry." "Well, I can't say that I admired his appearance." "You will have to seek your information elsewhere." "It wasn't so much that I wanted to find out about Bold Island harbor. I wanted to get him talking. Thought I might be able to trip him up if I got a good chance to ask him questions." "But he wouldn't talk." "He seemed suspicious." They watched the hunchback go into a store. Just before passing through the door, which stood open, he turned his head and looked back. "Wanted to see if we were following him," smiled Frank. They walked about the village, finally returning to the hotel. As they approached the hotel Inza and Paula came out and asked to be shown around the village. For an hour the four strolled about. From the yacht in the harbor Diamond saw them occasionally, and the Virginian's heart was throbbing with anger. He felt that he could kill Bruce Browning without a qualm of conscience. Finally the party returned to the hotel, but, before leaving the girls, Frank had invited them to be ready for a short cruise on the yacht the following morning, and they had promised to do so. As the boys approached the wharf beside which their boat floated, a man came toward them and spoke to them. He was the man with the crooked eye and broken nose. "I hear you chaps are thinkin' of goin' down to Devil Island?" he said, one eye seeming to look at Frank while the other looked at Bruce. "Is that right?" "We may go down there," answered Frank. "To-morrow." "Better not." "Why?" "It's dangerous." "How?" "You heard the yarns about the critter on the island, and you ought to know why." "Those yarns are the very things that make me want to go down there," declared Frank. The cock-eyed man looked surprised. "You don't want to be ketched by the monster, do ye?" "No, but we'd like to catch the monster," laughed Frank. "You can't do that. The critter ain't human. If he ain't the devil hisself, he's one of the devil's imps." "Well, we'd like to catch a genuine imp. If we could capture a real imp and take him to Boston or New York we could get a royal good figure for him from the manager of some dime museum. Freaks and curiosities are in great demand, and they are very scarce." The cock-eyed man seemed astonished and disgusted. "Why, you dern fools!" he exclaimed. "You don't 'magine you kin ketch a real imp, do ye?" "We can give him a good hustle," answered Merry, with apparent seriousness. "He'll have to be lively if he gets away." "I've hearn tell of how you city chaps didn't know much, but I did s'pose you knowed more'n that!" cried the man. "You'll be kerried off if you go down to Devil Island and try to chase the critter there. You'll disappear, an' you'll never be heard of ag'in." "We'll take our chances." "Say, I want ter tell you something. We don't say much about it round here, but most ev'rybody knows it. There was a man kem here this spring from Boston. He heard about Devil Island being haunted, and he was jest darn fool enough to want to go down there and see the spook. He went. He got some lobster ketchers to set him ashore and wait for him. They wouldn't go ashore with him, but they stayed in the boat reddy to take him on when he got reddy to leave. He never left!" "What happened to him?" "Who knows? 'Bout half-a-nour arter he went ashore there was the awfullest screech of agony come from somewhere on the island. Seemed jest like a man givin' a death yell. It scart them lobster ketchers so they rowed off a piece, but they waited till dark. He never come. Then they rowed off, and nothing of that air man has ever bin seen sence." "Didn't anybody go down to the island to see if they could find him? A tree may have fallen on him, or something of that sort." "There was six men went down from here two days arterward, an' whut do you s'pose they found?" "The man from Boston." "Didn't I tell ye he hadn't never been seen sence! They found a new-made grave!" "What was in the grave?" "They didn't wait to see, but they saw whut was at the head of the grave." "What was that?" "A new granite headstone." "Yes?" "True's I'm here. It was cut out nice an' clean, an' on it was chiseled some words." "What were the words?" "'Sacred to the mem'ry of Rawson Denning.'" "Who was Rawson Denning?" "That was the name the man from Boston sailed under!" The cock-eyed man whispered the words, his effort plainly being to make them as impressive as possible. "Now," said Merriwell, "you have awakened my curiosity so that nothing can keep me away from Devil Island. I wouldn't miss going down there for anything. I simply dote on mysteries, and this seems to be a most fascinating one. I am going to lay claim to it, and I'll wager something that I solve it. Hereafter the mystery of Devil Island belongs to me till I make it a mystery no longer." "Waal, you are a fool!" snarled the cock-eyed man. "I told you this for your own good, so you might have sense enough to stay away, but you ain't got no sense in your head! Go on, if ye want to, and I'll bet you git planted side of the man from Boston!" Then he turned round and walked away. "It is plain enough," murmured Frank, "that you do not want us to go to Devil Island. We will go there to-morrow." "I should guess yes!" grunted Browning. "I am feeling just like looking the place over." Then they entered their boat and rowed off to the yacht. CHAPTER XVIII. THE MONSTER OF THE DEEP. The following forenoon the _White Wings_ sailed out of the harbor at Green's Landing, bearing beside her regular crew Miss Gale and the girls. She was bound for Devil Island, and neither the girls nor their chaperon had wished to be left behind. It was a glorious summer day, with a medium breeze. As they ran out of the harbor Frank noticed a man at work in a lap-streak sailboat. It was the fellow with the broken nose and the crooked eye, and he seemed to be preparing to get away. He did not even glance toward the _White Wings_. Merry called Browning's attention to the man. "There is our amiable friend who gave us the warning," he said. "That's so," nodded Bruce. "By jingoes! that's a peculiar boat he's in. Look at her--long and narrow. Don't look as if she'd carry much sail without upsetting." "That's right," agreed Frank. "It is a queer boat, but she has mast enough for a big spread of canvas." They thought no more of the boat till they were in sight of Devil Island. Then Bruce saw a small boat that lay low in the water and carried her big spread of canvas in a reckless manner, although she was laying over before the wind. This boat was literally flying through the water, and it was plain enough that she was a wonderful sailer. "Look here, Merry," said Bruce, "isn't that the lap-streak in which we saw our friend, the cock-eyed man, as we were leaving Green's Landing?" Frank had a glass at hand, and he quickly took a survey of the flying sailboat. "Sure as you are born!" he cried. "That is the very boat! How in the name of all that is wonderful does she stand up under that spread of sail?" "Don't ask me," grunted Bruce. "I didn't suppose she could carry half as much." "Look at the speed of her!" exclaimed Hodge. "There's only one man in the boat, is there, Merry?" asked Bruce. "I believe there is," said Frank. "Our friend with the crooked eye is steering." "I don't see anybody else." "Because the other person is keeping out of sight." "What?" "There is a man lying in the bottom of that boat." "How do you know?" "I saw him lift his head to look at us a few moments ago." "That's strange." "It's plain enough he doesn't want to be seen." "What does it mean?" "Don't know." They watched the flying boat take the lead of them and saw it bear toward a distant rocky point of the island ahead. Near that point some sagging sheds could be seen. The small boat rounded the point and was hidden behind the island. "There is Bold Island, famed for its wonderful clams, over yonder," said Frank. "Bold Island harbor must lay between that and Devil Island, but I didn't find it on the chart. However, there is a passage between the two islands which is perfectly safe at high water. We will run down in there and drop anchor as near Devil Island as possible." They did so, finding a sheltered cove where it was plain that a boat could lay in any kind of a storm. Close to them was the rocky shore of Devil Island. Beyond the rocks rose a high bank, upon which was a gloomy tangle of woods. There was something forbidding in the appearance of the island with the unpleasant name. Frank and Bruce were eager to get ashore at once. As soon as the sails were cared for and things were ship-shape, they prepared to leave the yacht. In vain Paula had tried to draw Diamond into conversation. Jack would answer her questions--he was extremely polite--but he made no attempt to be entertaining. At last, just as Frank and Bruce were preparing to enter the small boat, she left Jack and called to Inza: "Come on!" Then, to the astonishment of the boys, the girls came over to the rail and asked to be assisted into the boat. "Eh?" grunted Browning. "Where are you going?" "With you," answered Paula. "We're not going to stay here and mope with nobody to talk to. Aunt Abigail is reading in the cabin, and I don't believe she will mind." "Perhaps you had better ask her," said Frank, weakly. "It isn't necessary," assured Inza, quickly. "Come, help me into the boat. You lazy fellows, did you expect to get out of giving us a row? I know you don't want to pull us around, but you can't get out of it." And then she came over the rail and leaped lightly into the boat. Browning aided Paula, after giving Frank a helpless look. "We can't get out of it," whispered Merry. "We'll row them round a while, and then we'll bring them back to the yacht." Bruce had brought out a repeating rifle from Frank's supply of arms in the cabin, and that was placed in the prow of the boat. Both girls sat on the stern seat. With a double set of oars the boys pulled off from the yacht. It was a strange spectacle to see Bruce Browning handling an oar, but he had been a famous all-round athlete when he first entered Yale, and he had not forgotten how to row. They asked the girls where they wished to go, and Paula answered: "Oh, anywhere." Under other circumstances, Browning might not have been so willing to pull at an oar, but he knew Diamond was gnawing his heart out, and the big fellow had developed a sudden satisfaction in tormenting the Virginian. A distant island attracted the girls. On a ledge near it was a flock of white gulls, covering the ledge so it looked as if it were a mass of snow. They pulled toward the island. The gulls proved shy and keen of sight, for they began to leave the ledge shortly after the boat drew away from the yacht, and half the distance to the island had not been covered before not a gull remained on the ledge. "Didn't even get near enough for a real good shot with the rifle," grunted Bruce. "I'd like to get a shot at something." Then he gave a cry of astonishment, took in his oars quickly, and caught up the rifle. "What is it?" asked Frank. "Look! look!" exclaimed the big Yale man, rising to his feet with the rifle in his hands. "There is a target for me!" They looked in the direction indicated, and they saw something that at first seemed like a black rock. But it moved--it was swimming slowly along the surface of the water. "A whale, by Jove!" shouted Merriwell. "Let him have it, Bruce!" Browning lifted the rifle and took careful aim. Crack! He did not miss his mark. The whale was seen to give a sudden start, and then, stung by the bullet, the monster of the deep rushed straight at the boat! "Look out!" "He's coming!" "My goodness!" Not till he saw the whale start straight for the boat did Bruce Browning realize what a foolish thing he had done. It seemed that the monster was bent on the destruction of the boat and its occupants. Merriwell uttered the first cry, which was a warning to Bruce, who was still standing, rifle in hand. Frank was going to use the oars, and he knew he would throw Bruce into the bottom of the boat by starting suddenly without warning. The two girls uttered the other exclamations. Paula screamed and covered her face with her hands, while Inza turned pale and stared at the onrushing monster. Frank fully realized their peril. He knew that it meant certain death to them all if the whale struck the boat, and there seemed no possible escape. Bruce dropped down and Frank gave a surge at the oars that made the boat give a leap like a thing of life. Then Merriwell pulled as never before had he rowed, not even in the nerve-straining, soul-killing college races against Harvard. Jump! jump! jump!--how he made the boat leap through the water! He was making the boat leap to get out of the whale's course. Bruce tried to get his oars into the rowlocks and aid, but, for once in his life, at least, the big fellow had lost all his coolness, and he lost an oar overboard. "He'll strike us!" "We're lost!" "Hold fast!" Frank continued to pull, but he was ready to drop the oars and make a leap for Inza the moment the boat was struck. "I'll do my best to save her!" he mentally exclaimed. Still he knew the shock would hurl them far into the water, while the boat would be shattered in pieces. He might be stunned--he might be instantly killed. For all that Inza stared straight at the whale, it is probable that she realized their terrible peril far better than Paula, who was so frightened that she covered her eyes with her hands. Frank began to realize that there was a possibility of getting out of the way if the whale did not change its course. He strained every nerve--he pulled for life. "Thank Heaven!" Browning gasped the words, for the monster had not swerved from its original course, and it dashed past the boat some distance astern. Even then Frank was not satisfied that the danger was past. He expected to see the whale stop, turn about and rush at them again. Nothing of the kind happened. The monster was headed straight for the distant passage that led out between the islands toward the lower bay and the open sea. He seemed to be in a great hurry, too, for he made the water fly as he sped along, the waves in his wake causing the little boat to rock when he had passed. Merriwell stopped pulling and sat watching the whale, never uttering a word till it had passed out of sight far down the bay. Then he turned and observed: "It's plain enough that he doesn't consider it healthy around here, and he is in a hurry to get away." There was a smile on his face, and he seemed quite undisturbed by what had happened. "Oh, Frank!" cried Inza, "what if he had struck us?" "He would have bumped his nose." "Oh, how can you joke now!" "Now is the time to joke. I didn't have time to think of a joke a little while ago." Browning dug himself out of the bottom of the boat, hoisted his huge body to a seat, and drew a deep breath of relief. "A man who shoots at a whale with a rifle is a thundering fool!" he observed. "And a man who tells him to shoot is another," laughed Frank. "That is my first adventure with a whale," said the big Yale man, "and, if I have my way about it, it will be my last." "Is--is he really gone?" faltered Paula, looking around. "Yes, Miss Benjamin," assured Frank, "he has departed in the direction of Greenland." "And he didn't touch the boat?" "If he had we'd be enjoying a swimming match for the yacht now." "If he had," said Inza, "some of us would have been killed right away, and the rest of us would have been drowned." "Let's go back to the yacht!" urged the trembling Paula, her voice choking. "I am quite ready," said Inza. "I don't care about going over to that island now." So Frank pulled back to the floating oar, and then the boat was headed toward the _White Wings_. Merriwell did his best to restore the girls' spirits. He joked and laughed, and before the yacht was reached he had almost convinced them that they had been in no great danger. "But, oh, it gave me such a fright!" said Paula. "Just to see that huge creature coming through the water straight toward us! It was awful!" Frank was chosen as the one to relate the adventure to Miss Gale, for the girls were aware that she might scold them for leaving the yacht without her consent, and Frank could make it all right with her. Hans was on deck, but he had not seen their adventure with the whale, although he had heard the report of the rifle, for he cried as they approached: "Vot you shooted? I heard der gun ven id fired you off." "We shot a large seabird," answered Frank; "but the varmint got away from us." "Vot kindt up a pird vos a varmint?" asked Hans. "You don'd remember dot I haf efer seen von, do I?" "It is large enough to make a fish chowder," explained Merry. "Vot vos I gifin' you?" cried Hans. "Who efer heart a pird uf dot could make a vish-chowter! I vos guyin' you, I oxpect." Browning threw him the painter as they came alongside, and soon the girls were safely on the yacht. "Come back as soon as you have fixed it with Miss Gale," said Bruce, "and we will go onto the island and investigate." Frank nodded and then went below. In a few minutes he came out laughing and assured the girls that it was all right. Then he dropped into the boat again, and soon he and Browning were on Devil Island. They pulled the boat up on the beach and made it fast. Frank took the rifle, and Bruce looked at his revolver, which he had slipped into his pocket before leaving the yacht the first time. The _White Wings_ was riding at anchor within easy speaking distance of the shore. "Which way shall we go?" asked Bruce. "The buildings are on the other side of the island," said Merry. "Let's go straight across." "All right." They found a path by which they could climb the bank, making it plain that human beings had traveled on the island not a little at some time, even if the place was deserted then. Following the path a short distance, they came to three small camps built of logs. The camps were not in a very pleasant location, although it was a sheltered spot. After looking around the huts a few minutes, they turned from the path and struck straight up through the woods, which were thick and dark. Beneath their feet twigs crackled and the dead leaves of a year before sometimes rustled where they had piled together but had not rotted. The woods were dark and in places the ground was covered by moss, so that their feet made not a sound. Higher and higher they climbed, till they came out into a natural opening that was surrounded by the gloomy trees. This seemed close to the highest ground on the island, which could be seen rising rocky and bare through the trees at one side of the glade. And in the midst of the glade was a grave that had not been made many months, and a granite stone stood at the head. "It's the grave the cock-eyed man told us of!" exclaimed Frank. "Let's look at the stone." They approached the grave, and Frank bent down to look at the stone. As the cock-eyed man had said, on it were the words: "Sacred to the memory of Rawson Denning." As Merry was looking at the headstone it seemed that a voice in the air above them hoarsely whispered: "Dead and buried!" CHAPTER XIX. IN THE DARK WOODS. "Eh?" gasped Browning, amazed. "What was that?" "Dead and buried!" Again that mysterious, awesome, uncanny whisper that seemed to float in the air. They looked around, they looked upward, they saw nothing but the blue sky above the leaves and somber trees that surrounded them. "Dead and buried!" Now it seemed to come from the ground--seemed to issue from the grave before them! It was as if the dead man hidden away down there had uttered the words. Frank Merriwell shrugged his shoulders, while his companion shivered and felt for his revolver. A cold chill swept over the big Yale man, as if he felt the touch of a dead hand. He was awed despite the fact that there was nothing superstitious in his character. They listened, expecting to hear the whispers again, but there was such a silence in the woods as seemed to press down on them like a crushing weight. Not even a breath of a breeze reached the spot to rustle the trees, and no sound of the surf chafing against the distant rocky shore reached their ears. It seemed at that moment that they alone were the only human living creatures on that uncanny island. A sense of desolation came upon them and made them feel as if they were far, far from human beings, buried as in the heart of a mighty desert. They did not stir; they stood there listening. Silence. Once, far on a Western desert, Browning had experienced the same feeling of loneliness, but then there was not the grewsome, ghostly fear that now clutched at his heart and chilled its beatings so it seemed to be struggling feebly like an imprisoned bird fluttering against the cruel bars of a cage. The big fellow choked. There seemed to be a lack of pure air for him to breathe. He longed to cry out, but his tongue lay stiff and paralyzed in his mouth. Then came the thought that some uncanny spell was being wrought about him, and that soon he would be body and soul in the power of the evil spirit of the island. With a mighty effort he moved, he spoke, he said: "Come, Frank, let's get away from here!" His voice was husky and hoarse, so that he was startled by its sound. Merriwell glanced toward him, lifting a hand with a gesture that warned to silence, while he bent his head toward the grave and listened. For some moments both stood still, and again Browning felt that strange spell stealing upon him, as if hypnotic eyes were peering out from the shadows and looking down into his soul. He shook himself, he even looked around in search of those eyes; but he saw nothing save the dark, gloomy woods and the funereal shadows. Frank straightened up. There was a queer look on his face. "Did you hear it?" he asked, in a whisper. "Of course I heard it," answered Browning, thinking he spoke of the whisper. "The words came to my ears distinctly." "No, no; I did not mean the whisper." "Then what did you mean? I heard no other sound." "It is strange, for I fancied I heard it distinctly." "Where did the sound come from?" Without a word, Merriwell pointed downward toward the grave. There was a look on his face that made his companion shiver. Bruce swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I am a fool!" he thought. "I am ashamed of such childish fears!" Then he forced himself to distinctly ask: "What kind of a sound did you think you heard?" "A rustle--a movement. It was as if the body down there had turned restlessly in its bed of earth!" Never did Bruce forget how those words sounded in the deep silence of the black woods. Never did he forget the sensation of unutterable horror that they brought with a shock to his soul. He stared at Frank, his jaw dropping, while awful thoughts ran riot in his brain. They had heard the whispered words, "dead and buried," which at first seemed to float in the air, and then appeared to come up from the grave before them. Browning fancied the dead lips down there uttering those words. He fancied the murdered man turning restlessly in his cold, dark bed--turning, twisting, unable to rest till he had been avenged. What thoughts fled through Frank Merriwell's brain? Surely he was besieged by uncanny fancies, but never in all his life was he more on the alert. The very air of mystery that surrounded him was a stimulant. He had solved many mysteries, and now he was determined to solve this one. Down the slope in the shadows of the dark woods below there was a rustling sound. Quick as a flash, Merriwell wheeled, rifle in hand, and bounded in that direction. Browning did not care to be left there alone beside that grave, and he followed Frank in a hurry. He saw Merry disappear amid the trees, heard a sudden chattering, and then there was a flash of fire and the clear report of a rifle. Frank had fired at something while he was on the run. The big Yale man crashed into the woods and came upon his friend, who was stooping to pick up a dead squirrel. "I rather think this fellow made the rustling that seemed to come from the grave," said Merry. "I was deceived by my ears, that is all. As I ran in under the trees here I could not resist the temptation to take a shot at him, for he was running, too. Now," he slowly added, gazing sadly at the dead squirrel, "I wish I had not fired." "Oh, it's nothing but a squirrel," said Bruce. "If I could make such a shot as that I'd be proud of it." "I am not proud, only sorry," said Frank, as he gently placed the squirrel on a soft bed of moss. "Look at the little fellow, Bruce! A few moments ago he was full of life, happy and free; now he is dead, killed by a cruel brute of a man! I didn't think I'd hit him, but that is no excuse. I ought not to have tried. Somewhere he has a home, a nest, a mate, perhaps little ones. He'll never return to his soft nest, never again will he scamper through the woods, leaping from bough to bough, playing hide-and-seek through the brush and the leaves. He is dead, and I killed him. Bruce, this one thoughtless, hasty act of mine lies like a sore weight on my conscience. I'll not forget it in a week. It will trouble me--it will haunt me." Frank's voice was rather husky with emotion and his handsome face betrayed his deep feeling of sorrow, and Bruce Browning, who was not cruel or hard-hearted, but who would have killed a squirrel and never given it a second thought, now began to realize that there might be something wrong in the act. "Oh, it's nothing to make a fuss over," he said, quickly. "Yes, it is," declared Frank, sincerely. "That little squirrel never harmed me, but I murdered him. He was one of God's creatures, and I had no right to lift my hand against him. I feel like a brute, a wretch, a murderer!" Then Frank knelt down on the moss beside the dead squirrel. "Oh, little squirrel!" he said, his voice breaking into a sob; "how much I would give could I restore your life to you! But I have killed you, and all my regret and sorrow over the act will not bring you back to scamper and frolic through the woods." To his astonishment, Bruce felt a misty blur come over his eyes, and there was a choking sensation in his throat. "Come away, Merry--come and leave it!" he exclaimed, thickly. "Don't be a fool!" "No," said Frank, "I can't leave him this way." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped the squirrel in it, doing so with such gentleness that Bruce wondered more and more. Then he searched about till he found a thin, flat rock that was about a foot long and four inches wide. With that rock Merriwell scooped a grave in the ground. That grave he lined with soft bits of moss, and then he took the squirrel, wrapped in the handkerchief shroud, and placed it in the grave. The earth was thrown in on the little body, and heaped up in a mound till it was a tiny model of the grave in the glade above. Then Frank thrust the flat rock into the ground as a headstone, and a tear dropped silently down. Browning had turned away. The big fellow had been taught a lesson he would not soon forget, and more than ever he admired and respected Frank Merriwell, who could be as brave as a lion or as gentle as a dove. "Come." Frank had arisen. Bruce followed him from the spot. They did not climb the rise and again enter the glade that contained the mysterious grave, but Frank led the way down through the woods till they came out to the rocky shore of the island, along which ran the path they had left some time before. Now they struck into this path and followed it round the island. Not a word passed between them till they came to the old granite quarry. There on their right the bluff of rock rose nearly a hundred feet in the air, with cedars growing away up on the heights. There were drill marks on the face of the rock. A weed-grown railroad ran into the quarry, and on the track sat a flat car, loaded with granite. "By jingoes!" exclaimed Browning. "It's plain enough there was some business done here some time." Frank looked at the face of the broad wall of granite. "I wonder why they ceased quarrying it?" he speculated. "I suppose the fishermen would say it was because the island was haunted." "More likely because the granite was not of the best quality. Now that stone does not look to me as if it is first class. It seems to me it is poor granite, and that is why the quarry was abandoned." "Guess you are right," nodded Bruce. They walked along the track which led out of the quarry and down toward some sagging sheds, in which they could see other flat cars. When the sheds were reached, they turned to the right and saw at a distance a house. Beyond the house was a large square building with many windows. Not far from the car sheds was an old wharf. "There is the house where the boss must have lived," said Merry; "and beyond it is the boarding house for the laborers." "Let's go look them over," said Bruce, who seemed remarkably energetic for him. So they walked over to the house. It was securely locked, and the windows were fastened down. Near the house was a well, from which they drew water and took a drink from an old dipper that hung on a rusty nail driven into the curb. From the house a path led down toward the boarding house. They walked down there and could look down into a beautiful little cove close at hand. "Why didn't we run in there and anchor, instead of anchoring away round back of the island?" said Bruce. "Simply because no one mentioned this cove, and I did hear Bold Island harbor mentioned," answered Frank. In the distance they could see three or four white sails. Far away beyond a group of islands rose a trail of smoke that told some small steamer was passing. A gull was circling over the cove, and a black crow cawed dismally from the top branch of a tall spruce. For all that the sun was in the sky, there was something oppressively lonely and deserted about Devil Island. "Let's try the doors here," suggested Bruce. The front door was fastened, but they found a back door that they were able to force open, as the nails that held it had rusted in the rotten wood till they readily bent before the pressure. "I don't know as we have any right to go in here," said Frank. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Bruce. "The place is deserted." "Somebody owns it." "According to the yarns of the fishermen, it is owned by a monster with blazing face and black holes for eyes." "None of them told of seeing the monster anywhere around this building. He was seen in the woods or on the other side of the island." "I think we'll see him here just as quick as anywhere," grinned Bruce, who had thrown off the uncanny feeling that had possessed him as they stood beside the grave in the woods. "Those stories were not told for nothing," declared Frank. "Why were they told?" "I don't know--not yet." "But you have an idea?" "Yes." "What is it?" "I rather fancy somebody wishes to keep people away from this island for some reason." "I thought the same thing." "What that reason can be I do not know." "But, Frank," said Bruce, hesitatingly, "you heard something as we stood beside that grave up there in the woods?" "Yes." "A whisper?" "Sure." "What did it say?" "'Dead and buried.'" "Then it was not imagination, for we both heard the same thing. Now how do you explain that?" "Somebody whispered the words." "Where was that somebody?" "You know just as well as I do; but those words were whispered for our ears to hear. We heard them." "I do not believe in ghosts any more than you do, Merriwell, but I will admit that there was a mighty queer feeling came over me as we stood there near that grave." "I felt it," confessed Frank. "Had I believed in ghosts, I should have been badly frightened." "Well, let's look this building over. We may find something in here." So they began to explore the old boarding house. It was a large building, and they climbed the stairs to the second story, where none of the windows were boarded up. Up there were the rooms where the laborers had slept. They looked through them all, but found nothing of interest. At last they stopped by a window and looked out upon the water. "By Jove!" exclaimed Merriwell. "Look down there!" "What is it?" "A boat." "Where?" "Beyond the land at the other side of the cove. It's laying close in to shore. See the mast?" "Yes, I see it now. Why, it almost seems aground! Wonder what it's there for?" "Whoever was in the boat has come ashore on the island." "Then why didn't he run into the cove down here?" "Because the boat would be seen in the cove, and where it lays it is not liable to be seen from the island." "Why should anybody wish to come onto the island here and not be seen?" "I don't know, but I'll wager something that that is the lap-streak sailboat belonging to our friend, the cock-eyed man. If I am right, he is somewhere on this island." "He warned us not to come here." "Yes. He told us what happened to the Boston man who came here. It was plain to me that he wanted us to keep away. He ran down ahead of us, and he is on the island. Why should he care to frighten us away? Why should he hurry to get here ahead of us? I tell you, old man, this is a mystery worth solving." Bruce grunted. He felt that Merriwell was right, but he realized it might not be an easy thing to solve the mystery of the island. The big Yale man stood looking out of the window and watching the boat, while Frank continued his investigations. Merriwell wandered from room to room, and at last descended the stairs again. "If he gets an idea that there is really a wonderful mystery here," muttered Bruce, "he will stay till he has solved it if he spends the remainder of the summer in this vicinity. Never saw a fellow who took such an interest in anything mysterious." The wind was rising again. It rattled a window, and somewhere about the building it made a loose board clap, clap, clap, in a way that made Browning think of clods falling on a coffin. All at once, somewhere down below in the old building, a shriek rang out, startling, shrill, wild and awful. It froze the blood in Browning's veins and seemed to cause his hair to stand upon his head. Following the shriek came--silence! CHAPTER XX. FRANK SEES THE MONSTER. Instantly Browning thought how the fisherman had told of the awful screams that came from the lips of the monster of the island. Had that monster uttered this cry? Where was Merriwell? "Frank!" Browning shouted the name of his friend and the empty rooms echoed with the sound. "Frank Merriwell!" From room to room rushed the big fellow. There was no answer to his cries. Quickly satisfying himself that Merriwell was nowhere in the upper story of the boarding house, Bruce bounded down the stairs four at a time. "Frank, where are you?" No sound save his own voice and the echoes. A sickening sensation seized upon Browning. He began to feel that a calamity, a tragedy, had taken place. From room to room he rushed, but he saw nothing of the one he sought. Was it possible Frank had left the building without saying anything to him? He could not think so. All at once he stood before an open door, and he dimly saw a flight of stairs leading downward into the darkness. A cold, dank smell came up from the depths below. Browning quickly decided that there must be some sort of a cellar or basement down there. The door was open. Frank had gone down to investigate. But the cry that had rung through the building! What had happened below? For a moment Bruce hesitated. Then he quickly felt in his pocket and drew forth a match safe. A moment later, with lighted match in his fingers, he was descending the stairs into the dank and moldy basement. At the bottom of the stairs was another door. It was open. Bruce stepped through it and stumbled over something, dropping his match, so that he was in the densest darkness. At that moment the wild shriek rang out again so near that it seemed uttered in his very ear. He had his revolver in his hand, and he whirled, his heart having sprung into his mouth, ready to use the weapon. In the darkness he saw nothing. Bruce was shaking as he crouched there. He heard his teeth rattle together, and he realized that he was completely unnerved. He was tempted to leap up and bound up the stairs. Indeed, the desire to do so was almost irresistible. He listened, thinking he might hear something like a moving person, but after that blood-chilling scream there was no other sound. At last he put out his hand and touched the object over which he had fallen. That it was a human body he instantly realized. The thought that Frank Merriwell lay there dead in the darkness nearly overcame him. He feared to light another match. That touch had told him that the body was not that of a person stiff and cold, as it must be had it lain there some time. It was still warm, as if with life, but still--how still! Browning's fingers shook as he got out a match. He prayed that he might not look on the face of his dead friend. The horrible fear of what he might see completely unmanned him. Scratch--splutter--flare! He lighted the match, and it blazed up at once. Its light showed him the sight he had dreaded to behold. Frank Merriwell lay before him, his face ghastly pale, his eyes closed. The match dropped from the nerveless fingers of the big Yale man and went out. A low groan escaped his lips. Then came the thought that Merriwell might not be dead. Quickly he caught up the body, flung it over his shoulders, and then he literally leaped up the creaking stairs. Bruce did not pause till he had carried Frank outside the building. Then he took a look at Merry's pale face, saw blood trickling down out of his hair, and rushed with him to the well near the house. Placing Frank on the ground, the big fellow fell to bathing his head, upon which was a slight wound that cut through the scalp. It was not twenty seconds before Frank opened his eyes. Bruce gave an exclamation of joy. "By Heaven! I thought you were dead!" he cried. Merriwell looked dazed for a moment, and then murmured: "I saw it!" "Eh? Saw what?" "The monster!" "What? You did?" "Sure." "Where? Down in the basement of the boarding house?" "Yes." "What did it look like?" "Just as described." "Fiery face and hands?" "Yes." "Black holes for eyes?" "Yes." Browning gasped. "What did it do?" "Shrieked." "I heard it!" "And then it seemed that the whole building fell on me. There was a bright glare of light, and the next I knew was when I opened my eyes just now." "Something struck you down." "I think you are right." "Know I am. I found you down there in the basement--brought you out. Oh, but I did think you were dead when I first saw your white face by the light of the match I held! I haven't recovered from the shock of it yet! It was awful!" In a few moments Frank was able to sit up. The cut on his head was not serious, but his head was throbbing with a shooting pain, and he was dizzy and weak. "Well, I've seen the monster all right," he said, with a grim smile. "There's some satisfaction in that." "And I have heard it," put in Bruce. "I don't know that I care about seeing the thing." "It did look something like the Old Boy himself," said Frank. "Don't wonder these fishermen are scared by it." "Well, I suppose you are satisfied now?" "Oh, no!" "No? What will you do?" "Oh, I'd like to know what the monster is made of." "This investigating seems to be rather dangerous." "And that makes it all the more fascinating. However, I think it will be well enough to give it a rest for the present." "We'll go back to the yacht?" "Yes, and have some dinner. After dinner we can take another whirl at the monster. We must not stay away too long this time, or the people on the yacht will worry about us." "What shall we tell them?" "Nothing. It will not do to tell of this adventure." "But this handkerchief about your head," said Bruce, who was tying it in place; "how will you explain that?" "Fell and struck my head. I did fall, you know, and my head must have struck the ground down there in that basement. We mustn't let them press us too closely. If they get inquisitive, we must change the subject." Thus it was arranged. When Frank first arose to his feet he was so weak that he found it necessary to lean on the arm of his companion, but his strength came to him swiftly, so that he was like himself before he had returned more than a third of the way to the _White Wings_. Then of a sudden he remembered that he had dropped his rifle when he was struck down in the basement, and he wanted to return for it at once. Bruce objected at first, but Frank was determined, and he finally won. They retraced their steps and boldly entered the building. Bruce followed Merriwell down the stairs into the basement, holding his revolver ready for use while Frank lighted matches. Then they searched for the rifle, which Frank knew he held in his hand at the moment when he was struck down. They could not find it, for it was not in the basement, nor was it anywhere in the building. The boys quickly decided that the rifle had been removed by human hands, but the mystery was just as deep. Leaving the building, they did not immediately return to the _White Wings_, but made their way past the little cove, through the stunted cedars and over the rocks to a position where they could look down upon the boat that was lying close to the island shore. As Frank had surmised, it was the lap-streak sailboat belonging to the cock-eyed man. There was no one in or around it. "Bruce," said Merry, "I have a proposal to make." "Make it," grunted Browning. "I have an idea that the person who owns that boat is concerned in the mysterious doings on this island." "Well?" "I am going to watch for him." "When?" "Now." "You mean that you are not going back to the yacht?" "Not right away." "Then I shall stay with you." "That will interfere with my plan." "How?" "If we stay away from the yacht very long it is certain to alarm the girls." "It might." "I want you to go back and tell them I have discovered signs of game here and have stayed to see if I can't bag it. You need not say what sort of game. Then I want you to get Hodge and bring him with you, taking three of the guns and sufficient ammunition. As you will be going out for game, that will create no alarm. Leave Diamond and Dunnerwust to guard the girls and Miss Gale. I will remain here till you return, and you might bring me something for lunch. Tell them it is likely to take some time to bag our game, and caution them not to be alarmed if we do not return before nightfall." "But I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone," protested the big Yale man. "There is no telling what may happen." Frank laughed softly. "Don't worry about me," he said. "I shall not venture into the old boarding house alone, and it is not likely I'll not be able to defend myself here on open ground." Bruce hesitated. "How are you feeling now?" he asked. "All right." "Strong?" "As ever." "That crack on the head----" "Oh, I am all over that now. Go on, old man, and don't worry about me. You know that, as a rule, Frank Merriwell is able to take care of himself." "That is a fact," nodded Browning. "But you are not armed. Here, you must take this revolver." He held the weapon out to Merry. "But then you will not have a weapon." "I am all right," declared Bruce. "I can handle two or three ordinary fellows without a gun." Fully aware of the giant's extraordinary strength, Frank knew he spoke the truth, and so he accepted the revolver. "Now I have an idea," said Merriwell, "that you had better not return to the yacht by the path." "Why not?" "It is likely that path is watched, and it may be well enough not to let the watchers know one of us has remained here. If they think we are gone, they may betray themselves by their movements. "How am I to go back, then?" "Go round the island the other way. You can keep in this fringe of woods the most of the time, so that you will not be seen. It may be a bit harder traveling, but I fancy it is the best thing to do." "All right. Take care of yourself, Merriwell. Keep your eyes open, and do not get another crack on the head." "Don't worry about that. Take your time." So Bruce started off, leaving Frank there where he could watch the boat. Not until Browning had disappeared and Frank was quite alone did he realize the loneliness of the place. The water washing against the rocky shore made the only sound to be heard, unless it was the occasional cry of a wheeling gull. The tide was going out, and already the black ledges were rising out of the water in the distance. Those were called "half-tide ledges" by the fishermen. There were other black rocks which rose barren and bleak above the highest tides. Near those ledges at certain seasons of the year sportsmen set their "tollers," or decoys, and crouching in nooks of the rocks, fired hundreds of shots at the sea birds lured to their doom by the wooden representations of their mates. Merriwell found a place where he could sit in a sheltered spot and watch the sailboat, at the same time having a good view of the bay and the islands and ledges. As he sat there Frank meditated on the mystery of the island. He was fully convinced that there was some reason why certain human beings desired to frighten all others away from the place. That the man from Boston had been murdered and buried on that island was quite probable. Perhaps he had been murdered for booty; perhaps he had discovered the secret of the island, and his death had been accomplished in order to seal his lips. In the latter case there must be some powerful reason why the desperadoes who slew him did not wish the secret revealed to the world. These thoughts led Merry to the conclusion that some criminal business was carried on upon that island. He was well aware that he was taking desperate chances in trying to find out what sort of business it was, but the mystery lured him on, and the very fact that there was danger lent a fascination to the adventure. How long he sat there thinking thus he did not know, but at last he was startled by a sound near at hand. He turned quickly and what he saw brought him to his feet with a bound. Peering from the bushes was the most horrible face he had ever looked upon. It was twisted and contorted in a frightful manner, the lips were drawn back from long, yellow fangs, the eyes seemed to glare like coals of fire, and about these frightful features tumbled a mass of tangled hair. "The monster!" That thought flashed into Frank's mind. He had no doubt but he was face to face with the creature that had frightened the simple fishermen from the island. For some moments Frank stood there, staring at that horrible face. Then a clawlike hand came out through the bushes and seemed to reach toward him, while a howl that was blood-curdling came from the creature's lips. That sound was the same that had frightened the fishermen into running for their lives, but, instead of running, Frank made a dash for the creature, Browning's revolver grasped in his hand. It was a most astonishing move on the part of the boy. For a moment the monster of the island remained motionless, and then that horrible face disappeared. With a leap, Frank plunged straight into the bushes, ready to grapple with the thing. He found nothing! It had vanished! Swaying bushes close at hand guided him, and he scarcely paused an instant. Straight forward he rushed, ready for the encounter at any instant. He caught a glimpse of something plunging through the bushes, and he followed fearlessly. A moment later he came out to open ground, and ahead of him he saw a misshapen figure running with wonderful speed toward the head of the cove. Perhaps for the first time since the creature had been seen on the island the order of things had changed and it was the pursued instead of the pursuer. "Stop!" shouted Frank. The monster looked back over a twisted shoulder, and snarled like a wild animal, but ran faster than ever. "Stop, or I shall shoot!" Frank flourished the revolver, running as hard as he could in pursuit. The command was not obeyed. In an attempt to frighten the creature into obeying, Frank fired two shots into the air. Still the thing ran on. "Well, I see I must catch him," muttered Merriwell. He set his teeth and made wonderful speed over the uneven ground. Never in any college sprinting match had he made such speed. He was determined to overtake that hideous thing and solve the mystery of the island. Frank soon saw he was gaining. The creature looked back and saw the same, whereupon it seemed to increase its efforts. But, although the monster was a swift runner, it could not get away from Merriwell. The cove was passed, and the race continued up the rise toward the big building above. Frank was drawing nearer and nearer. He reached out a hand to grasp the shoulder of the hunchback, for there was a large hump on the back of the fugitive. At that moment the panting thing whirled and grappled with him suddenly. Frank was taken by surprise by the movement, and in a twinkling he was flung to his knees. The monster snarled with satisfaction and sought to clutch his throat with those clawlike hands. Summoning all his strength, Merriwell fought his way to his feet and obtained a better hold on the thing, keeping those twisted fingers away from his throat. Then there was a fierce struggle for the mastery. During that struggle the tushes in the mouth of the being with whom Frank was battling suddenly fell out and dropped to the ground. They were false teeth, made to look as hideous as possible. And now Merry could see that the man's face was made up to appear twisted and deformed, and, a moment after the teeth fell out, the shaggy wig of tangled hair was torn away, showing that also was false and a part of the make-up. Now Merriwell recognized the man before him. It was the hunchback of Green's Landing--Put Wiley! "Really, Mr. Wiley, this is quite a surprise!" exclaimed Frank, triumphantly. "You had a splendid make-up, but the cat is out of the bag now." "Curse ye!" grated the hunchback. "You'll pay for this with your life!" "Oh, I don't know!" "I do." Wiley's voice did not utter these two words; they were spoken by another person, and Frank was clutched from behind. Strong hands closed about his neck, and hard fingers crushed into his windpipe, so that his breath was shut off in a moment. Frank could not withstand this onset, he was forced to his knees. Being unable to breathe, he tried to tear those crushing fingers away, but the effort was in vain. He had dropped the revolver, and it was beyond his reach. He knew at that moment that he was in the clutch of the ruffians who had murdered the man from Boston, and he had no doubt but a like fate was meant for him. Still he was powerless to save himself, for he was given no show. Things turned black and began to whirl around him, bombs seemed bursting in his head, bells were ringing in his ears, and then--nothingness! When Frank recovered consciousness he felt as if his windpipe had been crushed, and he seemed numb and helpless in every limb. He realized immediately that he was being roughly handled, and he heard a harsh voice say: "That's all right. He can't git erway. We can't waste any more time." He opened his eyes and looked up into the face of the speaker--the cock-eyed man! Put Wiley, the hunchback, was there, too. "Hello!" growled the man with the crooked eye. "He's come round. I'm glad on it, fer I want him ter know jest what his nosin' foolishness has done fer him." Frank tried to speak, but he could not utter more than a wheezing whisper. The hunchback raised a foot, as if to bring it down on the face of the helpless lad, for Frank was bound hands and feet, but the other man thrust him aside, growling: "Whut's the use! He'll be dead in five minutes. Don't kick ther poor fool." Then Frank realized that he was bound across the track of the old railroad that ran from the sheds to the quarry. The look that came to the face of the helpless lad seemed to tell the cock-eyed man that he understood the situation. "You've made a fool of yerself," declared the man, unpityingly. "You was too nosy. Inquisitive critters alwus git inter trouble. The Boston man was too fresh, and he's planted. You saw his grave." Strangely enough, at that moment the helpless boy asked a queer question: "Where were you when you made that ghostly whisper?" he managed to huskily inquire. "I dunno what good it'll do to ye ter know," was the answer. "You'll be dead right away. Mebbe one of us was hid in a holler tree near ye." "What do you mean to do with me?" "Waal, we've tied ye here acrost ther rails. Up there in the quarry is a car loaded with granite. It won't take much ter send it scootin' down the track, and it will cut you clean in two. You'll have time enough to think whut a fool ye was and say yer prayers while we are startin' ther car, but you'd better begin now. Good-by." Then the two murderous wretches hurried up the track and quickly disappeared. Frank tried to cry for aid, but he could not make a sound that could be heard ten rods away. He twisted and squirmed in a vain effort to free himself. And then he fell to listening, listening, listening. It was not long before he heard the sound which he dreaded. There was a distant rumble, a faint jarring of the rails. The car had started down the incline! "God help me!" The rumbling sound grew louder and louder. The car was gathering speed as it came on. "Frank--Frank Merriwell!" He heard Browning call near at hand, and now he made a mighty effort and answered: "Here! Quick! Help!" The big Yale man came rushing to the track, followed by Hodge, just as the car loaded with granite came into view. Instantly Bruce realized the peril of the lad who was bound to the rails, and he saw there was no time to cut the ropes and set Frank free. With a hoarse shout he leaped forward, catching up a stout stick of timber in an instant. One end of the timber he thrust under the rails of the track, and then he lifted on the other end with all his wonderful strength. The track was old, the ties were rotten, and the spikes gave way. The rail was pried aside in a moment. Then Bruce went at the other and tore that up. The car was upon him. He made a great leap backward and got off the track barely in time. Then, an instant later, the car, loaded with granite, left the rails and shot down the bank, spilling the slabs of rock and plunged with a splash into the water, disappearing from view. Frank was saved! * * * * * It was an hour later when Merriwell, Browning and Hodge returned to the _White Wings_. With the exception of a slight hoarseness, Frank could speak as well as ever, although his throat was sore and lame. The boys had not returned to the yacht till they were certain the hunchback and the cock-eyed man had left the island, for the lap-streak boat was seen bound up the bay under full sail. Browning was fierce for revenge. Merriwell did not say much, but deep down in his heart he was determined to punish the ruffians who had so nearly ended his existence. He cautioned the boys not to let the girls or Miss Gale know anything of the adventures on the island. "We will land them at Green's Landing," he said, "and then I am coming back to this island. The mystery of this place is not yet solved. Why are those two men trying to frighten everybody away from here? I want to know that, and I mean to know it." On reaching the yacht Jack Diamond was found paying every attention to Paula Benjamin, and it was plain that there was no longer a misunderstanding between them. The Virginian shot Browning a glance of triumph, in which was also a warning. But Bruce scarce gave Jack or Paula a thought, for other matters were on his mind then. He was eager and anxious to get rid of the girls and their chaperon in order that the party might return to Devil Island and seek to solve the deep mystery of the place and punish the wretches who had tried to end Frank's life. CHAPTER XXI. SETTLING A POINT. "Now, fellows," said Frank Merriwell, as he faced his four "shipmates" in the cabin of his yacht, _White Wings_, which was riding at anchor in the harbor at Green's Landing, "I have called you together for a council of war." "I'm tired," grunted Bruce Browning. "Can't I rest in my bunk while the powwow is going on?" "No," came firmly from Frank, "this is a matter of business, and it won't hurt you to sit up a while." "Oh, get a brace on!" exclaimed Diamond, flinging the words at the big Yale man. "Act as if you had some life in you, old fellow." The manner in which the words were spoken made the usually polite Virginian seem quite unlike himself, but Bruce simply grinned, observing: "You shouldn't hold a grudge because I flirted a little with Miss Benjamin, Diamond; you got a lead on me while Merriwell and I were investigating on Devil Island, and won her back, all right. Don't be sour over it." The Southerner sprang up, his eyes flashing: "Mr. Browning," he said, hotly, "I warn you not to speak lightly of Miss Benjamin! You seem to take delight in mentioning her in connection with every little occurrence, and it is getting tiresome. There is a limit!" "Huah!" grunted the giant. "Touchy, mighty touchy. First thing I know he'll be challenging me to a duel." "It would be useless to challenge you!" flashed Jack. "You Northerners are too cold blooded to fight." "Well, now, this will do!" cut in Merry, promptly rising to his feet. "I won't have it on board my yacht." "Then I suppose we can go on shore and fight it out," said Jack, sourly. "If you want to make fools of yourselves--yes." "You are very plain spoken, Mr. Merriwell." "It is necessary at times, Diamond. Hold your temper in check, old man, and don't talk about Northerners and Southerners. There is no North, no South. The time is past. When you came to Yale you were full of freakish notions about the North and the South, but I fancied you had been pretty well cured of that. I see it will crop out occasionally, though." To this Diamond made no retort, but he looked thoroughly angry. With another fellow Frank would have laughed him out of the mood, but he knew it would not do to try that on the Virginian, for Jack could not endure a bit of ridicule. However, Merry talked quietly, and soon he could see he was pouring oil on the troubled waters, for the look of anger was leaving Diamond's face, and Browning had assumed a lounging attitude. "This is no time for hard feelings between any of us," said Frank. "As I said a few minutes ago, I have called you together for a council of war." "Vot did I mean ven you said dot?" asked Hans Dunnerwust. "Berhaps you don'd understood me as vell as I might. Vot for haf dot gouncil uf var peen caldt?" "Yes," said Bart Hodge, "just what are you driving at, Merriwell?" "Fellows, we have struck a mystery." "I thought you had solved the mystery of the monster of Devil Island." "I solved the mystery of the monster's identity and discovered the creature was the hunchback, Put Wiley, in disguise." "But he came near ending your career." "With the aid of the cock-eyed man, whose name, I have learned, since returning to Green's Landing, is Dan Hicks. I could have handled Wiley alone, but Hicks came to his aid and caught me by the throat, grasping me from behind. Together they knocked me out and tied me to the old railroad on the island. But for Browning's wonderful efforts in ripping up the rails, they would have succeeded in their attempt to send a flat car loaded with granite down the track, and I must have been cut in two. I tell you, fellows, it was a wonderful sight to see Bruce pry up those rails and send that car, granite and all, into the water. Ah, Browning!" exclaimed Merriwell, his voice betraying his feeling despite his effort to keep it under control, "it prolonged my life when you were born strong." "Oh, it wasn't much work to rip up those rails," said the big fellow, with an air of modesty. "You see, the spikes that held them were planted in rotten wood, for the ties are very old." "You never moved half as fast before in your life, Browning," said Hodge. "You did get a hustle on then." "I had to," grunted Bruce. "Saw there wasn't any time to loaf." "You saved my life," declared Frank. "The identity of the monster is solved, but the mystery of the island is as deep as ever." "Shust vot do I mean ven you said dot?" asked Hans. "Why should the hunchback rig himself up in that horrible manner and try to frighten persons away from the island?" "There is a mystery," confessed Diamond. "Certainly it is," nodded Merriwell. "Discovering the identity of the monster has not seemed to clear things up much. It has added to my curiosity." "Berhaps id peen a healthy thing to stayed avay dot islands from," observed Hans, sagely. "Whatever the secret of the island may be," said Frank, "those men are ready to commit murder in order to guard it." "They came near succeeding," said Hodge. "It looks as if they have succeeded." "Eh? How?" "You remember the story of the Boston man who was landed on the island and never seen afterward." "The cock-eyed man told that story." "Yes." "Perhaps that was a part of his plan to scare us away from the island--to keep us from going there." "Perhaps so; but you remember he told us there was a grave on the island and the headstone was marked, 'Sacred to the memory of Rawson Denning.'" "Yes. More of his plan to scare us away." "The grave is there." "What?" "Sure." "You--you----" "Found it. Bruce was with me. We came out into a dismal glade in the heart of the black woods, and there was the grave and the headstone with the words upon it." "Jingoes!" Hodge stared at Frank a few moments, and then asked: "Do you really believe the Boston man was murdered and buried in that grave?" "Rawson was the name he gave, and the grave was found on the island after his strange disappearance. It seems probable enough that he is planted there." "By Chorch!" exclaimed the Dutch boy, turning pale; "I don'd vant to monkey aroundt dot island all alone by yourself." "Do you have any idea what the mystery of the island can be, Merriwell?" asked Hodge, eagerly. "Of course I do not know any better than yourself, but I have a suspicion." "What do you think?" "Yaw!" cried Hans; "vat do I think?" "I believe some kind of unlawful business is carried on there, and for that reason the criminals are using every means to frighten away anybody who might prove troublesome or inquisitive." "Then will it pay us to be troublesome and inquisitive?" said Diamond. "That is the very matter we are here to discuss. The girls and Miss Gale are comfortably located here at Green's Landing, and they will be able to amuse themselves for a day or two. If we wish, we can run down to Devil Island every morning and return here every night. I am willing to confess that my curiosity is aroused, and I would give something to solve the mystery of the place; but I do not wish to drag any of my friends into danger where they do not wish to go." "I hardly think there is one in this party who will not stand by you wherever you go, Merriwell," said Bart, quickly. "You can count on me." "I knew it." "And me," grunted Browning. "I thought so." "Und I vos anodder!" exclaimed Hans. "That is good." "Don't think for a moment that I will go back on you," said Diamond. "I started on this cruise with the intention of staying with you, and I shall." "Good. That part of it is settled. I have said that the mystery of that island belongs to me, and I will solve it. I mean to keep my word." "Vale," said Hans, "I never knowed yourseluf ven you didn'd keep your vord, Vrankie. But maype you don'd vant to took some more chances uf peing runned ofer a railroat on?" "Hardly. We have a fair breeze. Shall we run down to the island this forenoon?" "Come on," said Diamond, suddenly. "If we have a mystery to solve, the sooner we get after it the better." There was a thump against the side of the yacht, and a voice called: "Ahoy on board there! I want to see the captain of this craft." CHAPTER XXII. THE MAN IN GRAY. When Frank reached the deck he saw a jolly-looking little man in gray clothes coming over the rail. Beside the yacht lay a dory, in which sat a fisherman who had rowed the old man off to the _White Wings_. "Dang a dory," exclaimed the little man in gray, with a chuckle. "She may be all right to row round in on a troubled sea, but she'll tip quicker'n scat if you step up on the side of her. This one near spilt me into the drink after I was alongside here. What I want is a flat-bottomed scow or raft. I hope this yacht is good and steady, for I'm going to take a cruise in her." "You are?" gasped Frank, smiling. "Well, that is cool." "Of course," nodded the little man, brightly. "Everything around me is cool, even to my name, and that is Cooler--Caleb Cooler." "I like your nerve!" "I thought you would, though I have seen people who didn't like it. Some folks are fussy--here, my man," turning to the boatman, "here is the fifty cents I promised you if you would set me on board here. I shan't want you any more. You may go." "Hold on," came firmly from Frank, who also spoke to the man in the dory. "I think Mr. Cooler is mistaken. He will want you--to take him ashore again." "Oh, no--no, indeed," chuckled Mr. Cooler, pleasantly. "You are quite wrong, young man. I am going to Devil Island with you." "The--the--dickens you are?" exclaimed Frank. He came near using another word in the place of "dickens," for now he was literally astounded. "Oh, yes," nodded the queer old man, still laughing. "I won't be a bit of bother. In fact, you will find me mighty jolly company. Tickle me gently, and I am more fun than a variety show. I have been paid in my day to travel around with folks just to amuse them. I'm sure death to the blues, and I am better than all the doctor's medicine you ever took." "Well, I haven't the blues, and I am not in need of medicine." "Say you so? You're in luck. You do look cheerful and healthy, that's a fact." "But I have some curiosity." "Glad to know you are troubled by something." "Yes, I am curious to know how you happened to come aboard this yacht in order to get to Devil Island." "Why, aren't you going there?" "Perhaps so; but how do you know it?" "Feller told me so." "When?" "Little while ago." "Where?" "Up at Jobbins' store." "What kind of a fellow? How did he look?" "Looked as if some chap had swatted him with a brick right on the bridge of his proboscis, for it had a strong list to starboard, and one of his eyes was keeping watch at the end of it, while the other eye was on guard to see that no more bricks were coming in that direction." "The man with the cock-eye!" exclaimed Merriwell. "Sure as you live!" cried Hodge, who had followed Frank to the deck. "It's Hicks." "So that scoundrel has dared venture into Green's Landing so soon," said Frank, grimly. "And he knows he did not succeed in his foul attempt to murder me!" "Eh?" exclaimed the little man, in surprise. "What's that? Murder? Did he----" "Never mind," interrupted Frank, eying the man in gray, as if seeking to read his thoughts. "I have a little affair to settle with Mr. Hicks, and the worst recommendation you could have is the fact that he sent you here. He simply surmised that I contemplated returning to Devil Island." "But don't you?" "That is my affair, Mr. Cooler. In no case do I propose to carry passengers." "I am not passengers. I am simply a passenger. I won't bother you a bit. Even if you are not going to the island, I'll pay you to land me there." "You seem very anxious to reach the place." "I am. I am in a bigger hurry than a dog with a package of firecrackers tied to his tail. It's a matter of business. No time is to be lost." "You will have to seek another mode of conveyance." "What? Now, you are not in earnest! Ha! ha! He! he! I see that you are something of a joker. It's all right, all right. I tumble to your game." "And I think I tumble to your game, Mr. Cooler," said Merry, sternly. "You can have the information you want." "The information?" repeated the queer old man, in apparent consternation. "Why, it can't be that you are connected with the Eastern Bay Land Syndicate?" "I do not know anything about the Eastern Bay Land Syndicate." "What a relief!" sighed Mr. Cooler. "Really, you gave me quite a start. But I am ahead of them. If the island is as represented, I will secure it. This part of the Bay is bound to become famous with summer people." "I do not know what you are trying to give me, but I tell you I am onto your little game. Go back to Mr. Dave Hicks and tell him I am going to Devil Island. I have met him there once; tell him I shall be pleased to meet him there again." "But I do not want to go back to Mr. Hicks," protested the little man. "I want to go to Devil Island with you." "You can't go." "I must. Young man, I will pay you any----" "I do not want your pay. You came aboard by that boat. Get into it and return ashore. If you are so anxious to get to Devil Island, you will find plenty of fishermen who will set you on there if you pay them for it." "You are wrong. All the fishermen seem afraid to go near it. I tried several of them this morning, and then the man with the broken nose and the bent eye told me you were going down that way. That is why I am here." The little man in gray seemed very much in earnest now, but Frank had made up his mind and was not to be turned. "Get into that boat, sir," he commanded. "We can't take you to Devil Island." "You'll have to," said Mr. Cooler, stubbornly. "I am here, and I am going with you." "I rather think not," drawled Bruce Browning, who had been brought to the deck at last by the sound of talk. The big fellow picked the little man up by the collar, carried him to the rail and dropped him into the dory, saying to the boatman: "Take him ashore immediately, or he will have to swim ashore, for I shall throw him overboard if he boards the _White Wings_ again." The queer little man in gray looked astounded and then amused. He reached up and pulled his coat collar round into place, and stared at Bruce, beginning to chuckle, as if the whole thing was a very entertaining joke. "He! he!" he laughed. "Excuse me. Can't help it. Very funny. You chaps act like you thought I'd bite. I won't bite. Never bit a man in all my life. However, I see you are determined to go away without me, and I'll not try to force myself upon you. If there is anything I detest it is a man who makes himself obnoxious by forcing himself on others. He! he!" "Ha! ha!" laughed Hans. "I vos der funniest man you efer seen, ain'd id? Vale! vale! vale! Der next dime you come aproad der _Vite Vings_ you hat petter stayed ashore." "Now, that is more than I can stand," cried the little man, trying to look fierce. "No Irishman can talk to me like that." "Vat?" shouted Hans. "Who vos I callin' an Irishman? You petter peen gareful ur you vill got me indo drouple! I vant you to understood I nefer peen an Irishman in mein life!" "I don't wonder you deny your nationality," said Mr. Cooler. "But you cannot deceive anyone. That mug and that brogue will betray anywhere that you are Irish to the bone." Hans began to jump up and down excitedly, shaking his fist at the little man. "You shust safed my life py geddin' off this yotch vrom!" he yelled. "I murdered der last man vat caldt you Irish! Uf I efer seen you again you vill punch mein face off, und don'd you vorgot id!" "Oh, keep cool, Patsey," advised the man in gray. Now a wild howl issued from Dunnerwust's throat, and he rushed to the rail, leaning over to shake his fist as near his tomentor as possible. "Uf you dare to caldt me Batsey aken you vill gif me a lickens!" he wildly threatened. "I von't pe caldt Batsey! Batsey vasn't your name, so don'd you dare to caldt me dot! I vos porn in Sharmeny." "What part of Ireland is that in?" mildly inquired the little man. "I should say by your brogue that you came from County Cork, or somewhere in the south of Ireland." "Oh, gif me someding to murter him mit!" shrieked Hans, like a maniac. "Gif me a gun! I vill shot him on der spot, or somevere near id! Gif me a gun!" Then he made a wild rush for the cabin, still howling for a gun, and fell with a great clatter down the companion way. "Take my advice, Mr. Cooler," said Frank, who was laughing now, "get as far away from this yacht as possible before Hans comes on deck again. He has gone for a gun, and there are several below, all of them loaded." "As I do not care to be filled full of lead, I will take your advice," said the man in gray, calmly. "Irishmen are very quick-tempered, and I see I have ruffled this one somewhat. However, he proved very amusing for a short time. Good-day, Mr. Merriwell. I hope to see you later. In fact, I think I shall--Bill, you may set me ashore." Bill, the boatman, was somewhat nervous, and he rowed away from the yacht as hastily as possible. The dory was not many lengths away before Hans came howling to the deck, wildly flourishing one of Merry's shotguns. "Shown me to him!" yelled Hans, almost frothing at the mouth. "Vere vos der man vot caldt you an Irishmans? He vill shoot me in a minute uf I see heem! Vere he vos?" Then as he saw the dory pulling away, he rushed to the side of the yacht and prepared to shoot, but Frank seized him and took the gun away in a twinkling, saying, sternly: "Are you crazy, Hans? Do you want to be hanged for murder? I never saw you this way before." "Dot man caldt me an Irishmans!" "Well?" "He caldt me Batsey?" "A very natural mistake, considering that you have a face that is strongly Irish in its general appearance and you have associated with Barney Mulloy so much that you have acquired his brogue." Hans gasped and staggered. "Vot do you hear?" he faintly said. "Uf dot peen a fact, I vos retty to shuffle off der mortal pucket und kick der coil! I don'd vant to lif no longer ven I got to lookin' an Irishman like und dalkin' so I mistook volks for von! My heart vos proken!" Then, sobbing violently, he again staggered toward the cabin and once more fell down the companion way. Laughing heartily, Frank followed him, and found Hans lying where he had fallen below. "Are you hurt?" asked Merry, anxiously. "Yaw!" sobbed Hans. "Bad?" "Yaw!" "Where?" "All ofer." "Can't you get up?" "I don't vant to got ub. I vant to die! Id vos my heart dot vos hurt. Oh, shust to vancy dot my vace looks like an Irishmans! Mein Gott! id vos awful!" "Perhaps you can have your face changed, so do not take it so much to heart." "Now you peen shoking." "No; in New York there is a man who advertises to make over faces--to change them completely. It is possible that he might be able to remove the Irish look from your face." Hans sat up. "Py Chorch!" he cried. "Uf dot peen a vact, I vos goin' to had a new vace shust as soon as you can! Id peen der only thing vot vill kept me a brison oudt uf. I shall murder der next man dot caldt me Irish!" "Well, you can have your face built over when you get back to New York, so don't take it so much to heart." Hans got up after a while and dragged himself to a seat, while Frank replaced the gun in the strap from which the Dutch lad had taken it. Browning came loafing down into the cabin, followed by Hodge. "What do you make of that queer little man, Merriwell?" asked Bruce, flinging himself down lazily. "I sized him up as a spy," said Frank. "He was sent off to find out if we intended to return to Devil Island. He found out." "He certainly is an odd character." "As queer as anything I have seen down this way. Somehow he did not seem like a native." "No native to him," said Bart, as if that point was settled in his mind. "He did have a crust," said Bruce. "A crust!" cried Frank, laughing as he remembered what had taken place. "Why, I never saw anything like it! Came on board and calmly informed me he was going to Devil Island with us, and he would not think of leaving when I told him we did not want him." "And he was not even ruffled when I dropped him over into the dory. He is well named, for a cooler customer I never saw." "And he said he would see you again, Merry." "I noticed that." "But he didn't seem much of a desperado," yawned Bruce. "Appearances are deceptive." "Yaw!" muttered Hans. "Don peen a vact somepody took me an Irishman vor! Dot vos der plow dot gif me der lifer gomblaint mit my heart in!" "I don't suppose, Merry," said Bart, "that you will defer your visit to Devil Island because of what lately happened?" "I should say not!" exclaimed Frank. "I am beginning to get warmed up. If they but knew it, somebody is doing the very things to spur me on to solve the mystery." "Hadn't we better leave Diamond here at the landing to look after the girls?" said Bruce. "It's plain he does not wish to waste the time to go down to Devil Island." "It is plain you do not know anything about it, sir!" said Jack, sharply, as he stepped into the cabin. "I am ready to go, and the sooner we start the better I shall like it. If we are to investigate, I am in favor of getting at the investigation without delay." "We will get away as soon as possible," said Frank. "All hands on deck." In a very short time the _White Wings_ was running out of the harbor, headed for Devil Island. From the shore more than one pair of eyes were watching her with looks that boded no good to her inquisitive and daring owner. CHAPTER XXIII. THE CLAMBAKE. As Bold Island harbor was sheltered and the yacht could lay close in to the shore of Devil Island and be so hidden that she would escape observation to a large extent, Frank ran in there, choosing that anchorage in preference to the one in the cove on the other side of the island of mystery. It was near low tide when Merry ran in there, and he did not stop till the keel of the _White Wings_ stuck fast in the mud at the bottom. "I thought you were getting in too near," said Hodge. "Not getting in near enough to suit me," declared Frank. "The bottom is soft here, and the yacht would sit up straight in the mud if the tide ran out so that she was left high and dry. It is low water now. At high water she will float all right and have any amount of water under her keel." As soon as everything was attended to on the yacht, Frank cried: "Come on, fellows, let's row over to Bold Island and see if we can find some of her famous clams. We may not get another opportunity like this." "Oh, what's the use," yawned Browning, sleepily. "Too much trouble. I'm going below and turn in." "I will stay to look after the yacht while Browning gets his nap," said Hodge. Diamond was ready to go with Frank, and Merry asked Hans to come along. They had purchased a clam hoe at the Landing, so they were prepared to hunt the shy and retiring clam. "Vale," said Hans, sadly, "I vill go mit you, poys, but I don'd peen aple to took no bleasure mit der shob since I vos caldt an Irishman. I don'd pelief you vill efer got ofer dot." He looked very sad and downcast, as if he were nearly, heartbroken, causing Merry to laugh softly. The three got into the boat and pulled over to Bold Island, where they began searching for the clams that have made the island famous throughout Penobscot Bay. It was some time before they could find any clams, for the beach had been dug over and over till it did not seem there was a place left untouched. At last Frank turned over a large, flat rock, and down in the sand beneath it they struck their first clam. That clam, measured in its shell, was exactly seven inches long and a little more than five inches wide, while the shell itself was almost as white as the shell of an egg. When Merry turned up this clam, Hans staggered and sat down on the sand with great violence, and there he sat, staring and muttering: "Vot der tyrful vos dot? Uf dot don'd peen der varter uf all glams, you vos a liar! I don'd pelief I efer seen anyding like dot pefore in all your porn tays!" "Hurrah!" cried Merry. "Here's proof the fishermen down this way are not all liars, or do not lie about everything. They told me this was the kind of game we should find here." "But this must be unusual," said Diamond. "Can't all of them be like this." "They say so." "Well, they cannot be very good to eat. They must be too tough." "On the contrary, I have heard they are splendid eating. Here is another! By Jove, it's fully as large as the first!" Hans sat still on the sand and stared straight at the first clam turned out. Frank looked at him and saw the Dutch boy appeared on the verge of bursting into tears. "What's the matter, Dunnerwust?" he asked. "I vos peginnin' to seen things queer," replied Hans. "Vot do I think? Vale, uf dot glam don'd look like der mug an Irishman of, you vos a liar! Uf I kept on seein' things like dot to remindt me vot dot man in gray said, id vill drife me to trink ur to sluicide!" They had brought along a bucket, and it did not take long to fill it with these large clams. Then they emptied it into the bottom of the boat and found another bucketful before stopping. With those they returned to the boat. "We will go ashore on Devil Island, where there are plenty of rocks of all kinds, and seaweed, and there we'll have a clambake," said Merry. "There is wood enough on Devil Island, too, and it is nearer to the yacht." The sound of their oars brought Hodge on deck. "What luck?" he asked, as they approached. "Great luck," answered Frank. "Get in, and we will take you ashore over yonder, where we are going to have a clam roast." The clam hoe was passed up to Bart, and then he swung down into the boat, and soon all were ashore on the island of mystery. Frank began constructing an oven amid the rocks, sending the others for fuel and seaweed. It did not take long to make preparations for the bake, and soon a roaring fire was blazing, as a lot of dry wood had been found near the deserted camps on that side of the island. Frank took the clams down to the water and washed them carefully, a bucketful at a time, turning them all into the hollow of a large rock near the fire. As the fire grew hotter, Merry threw stones into it and kept it roaring. None of the stones were smaller than a man's fist, and some were larger than a man's head. "Why are you doing that?" asked Hodge. "You will see when the time comes," smiled Frank. Hans sat on a rock and stared into the fire, his air of dejection being extremely ludicrous to behold. "Come, come, forget it!" exclaimed Merry. "Cheer up and be like yourself." "I can nefer peen like yourseluf again so long as I had this face onto me," sighed Hans. "Id peen a vrightful thing to think dot I might peen misdooken any dime an Irishmans vor! Dunder und blitzens! I vos all proken ub in peesness ofer dot!" It was useless to try to cheer him up. The more they talked to him the sadder and more downcast he looked. After a while Frank had burned out nearly all the wood, and nothing was left but a dying fire. He did not wait for it to die down, but raked away everything but the red-hot coals and some of the stones in the fireplace of stone. Then he took the wet seaweed and threw it into the fireplace, where it began to sizzle and steam. "In with the clams, boys!" he cried, as he began to toss the big fellows in upon the seaweed. They helped him, and soon all the clams were scattered on the steaming seaweed. Then he covered them with more seaweed, and, aided by the others, piled the hot rocks he had drawn out of the fireplace on top of this mass of seaweed. What a sizzling and steaming there was, and what a delightful odor came to their nostrils! Quickly Frank had another fire going, and by this he kept hot a mass of rocks he had heated in the first fire, but had not piled upon the seaweed. In this way, by the time the rocks on the weed were cooled off, more rocks were ready to take their place, and the clams were kept steaming. After a time, Merriwell announced that the clams must be nearly done. He sent Hans off to the yacht to bring Browning ashore. The Dutch boy found it difficult to arouse the big Yale man, but Browning was fond of clams, and he came along quickly enough once he was fully awake and understood what awaited him. As the boat reached shore, Merriwell began to rake the rocks off the seaweed. "Ye gods!" grunted Bruce, sniffing the air as he approached. "What heavenly aroma is this that greets my nostrils?" When the clams were uncovered and he saw them with their huge shells yawning and the meat within looking white and tempting, he declared he was very happy to be living. "Gather round, fellows," said Frank, "Capture your clams and devour them. There will be no ceremony in this case." Then, as Browning fished out a clam and held it triumphantly aloft, a man came whistling softly down the bank, joined the group without a word, raked out a clam and extracted it from the shell, being the first to taste the feast Frank had prepared. It was the man in gray, Mr. Caleb Cooler! "Yum!" exclaimed the man in gray. "That clam is hot!" "Well, you are cool enough!" said Frank Merriwell. "Oh, I'm Cooler," chuckled the queer old fellow. "Told you so some time ago. Howdy, boys. Fine day, isn't it? Think we will have some more weather? Or don't you know 'weather' we will or not?" Bruce Browning arose to his feet and removed his coat. "That's one way to keep cool at a clambake," grinned the man in gray. "What are you going to do?" "Mop up the beach with you," answered Browning, quietly. "I am going to teach you a lesson." "Teach is correct as you applied it," said Mr. Cooler. "Down this way I find people say 'learn' for 'teach.' Just think how bad it would have sounded had you said you were going to learn me a lesson." He raked out another clam, but dropped it, shaking his hand and blowing on his fingers. "Even though I am Cooler, I find some things are warm enough," he murmured. "That clam must have been near a fire. I dote on clams, baked, boiled, fried or frizzled, it don't make a dern bit of difference. Whenever I get an opportunity I go gunning for clams myself. I think it is great sport to shoot a clam on the wing. With a good bird gun and a dog, I presume it is an easy thing to bag clams around here?" He was not paying the least attention to the big Yale man, and Browning's threat to "wipe up the beach" with him seemed forgotten. Hans was glaring at the man in gray, while strange, gurgling sounds came from his throat. All at once he gave a yell, rolled over backward and scrambled to his feet. "Don't touch him, Pruce!" warned the Dutch boy. "I peen goin' to smash dot veller myseluf!" "Ah there, Irish," chirped Mr. Cooler. "You will catch cold in your liver if you let the wind blow down your throat that way. Have a clam and let it stop that orifice in your countenance." This made Hans so angry that he danced wildly and began to choke and gurgle in his endeavor to shriek forth something, but the man in gray did not even look at him. There was something extremely ludicrous about it all, and Frank was forced to laugh. When he saw Merry laughing, Hans seemed to lose all his strength, and he dropped down on a rock, completely knocked out, even though he had not been touched. Browning was grinning now, for he saw the humor of the situation, and he could not help admiring the nerve of the queer old fellow. "Look here, Mr. Cooler," said Frank, "who invited you to help yourself?" "Eh? Oh, why, I didn't need an invitation to join old friends like you chaps. I knew you would be glad to see me." "We are," grunted Browning, "tickled to death." "Then sit right up and take hold, boys," chuckled Mr. Cooler. "Catch your clam and peel him. We'll have a real jolly time." He raked another one off the seaweed. "How did you get here?" asked Merry. "I didn't walk, because I couldn't. Had to hire a fellow to bring me down, and then he didn't want to get near enough to the island to set me ashore. Wanted me to swim. Charged me five dollars, too. Never mind; the company will have to pay it." "What company?" "Why, the company I represent." "But what company do you represent?" "The greatest land improvement and development company on earth. You must know the one I mean, for it is the only one. It is the Bay Islands Land Company. The Eastern Bay Land Company has sprouted in competition to us, but we purpose to nip the rival concern in the bud. I am here to investigate such islands as may eventually become summer resorts and obtain options on them when I can get at the real owners. That's one great difficulty--to find the real owners. Some of them do not seem to have any owners, and yet sheep are pastured on them summer and winter. Some of them are owned by the government. Down at Vinal Haven I heard about Devil Island. They said there was some sort of a mystery here. An island with a mystery is certain to be a great attraction for summer visitors. I made a skip for Devil Island to see if it had any attractions beside the mystery. Had hard work getting here. Nobody at Green's Landing seemed to feel like dropping me here, you refused to do so, I couldn't walk. But I didn't get excited. The more difficulties beset my path the cooler I became. I am here, gentlemen, and I'm glad I came. I admire clams. They are fine. I think these clams are the finest I ever tasted. Have some, boys." Mr. Cooler seemed to regret the time he had spent in talk, for he made a fierce dive at the clams and raked out two of them. Merriwell's friends all looked at him to see what he would do under the circumstances. Frank was smiling, but there was a look of doubt on his face. For once in his life, he seemed in a quandary. There was something about this little, chuckling, jolly old man that seemed to forbid anyone to do him personal violence. Bruce Browning felt that. He realized that he would feel ashamed of himself if he should give the old fellow a shaking. And it was plain that Cooler could not be frightened away in any ordinary manner. Nothing seemed to alarm him. "Sit up and eat some clams, fellows," said Frank, quietly. "Let him fill up, and then we'll tie a big bowlder to his neck and sink him out here in the harbor." "Hum!" coughed the man in gray. "That's right, young man--let me fill my sack with these clams before you put me to soak. Perhaps you had better let me rest a while after that, too, for I never like to take a bath after a full meal. It isn't healthy. The best physicians condemn the practice." So, with the exception of Hans, they again gathered around the clams and started to enjoy the feast. Hans retired by himself and sat on a flat rock, muttering and looking savage. At times he would shake his fist at the back of the man in gray. Mr. Cooler seemed to have a remarkable ability to talk and devour clams at the same time. As Browning afterward expressed it, he "talked a blue streak." He told them he was a great traveler, he had been all over the United States, all over the world. "Why," he said, "in Berlin I appeared at court." "How much was the fine?" asked Frank, with a twinkle in his eye. "Young man," exclaimed Cooler, "you astonish me. To look at you, I would not suppose you could be frivolous. I am slightly that way myself. Can't help it; born that way. Always see something humorous in everything. It's better than medicine; it keeps the liver in a healthy condition. Now, clams are hard to digest, but taken in connection with laughter and jollity they digest much better. There is enough sadness in the world if we do not go around with our faces drawn down. Be jolly. That's my motto." There was something infectious in his light spirits and careless air. Despite themselves the boys found they were growing interested in this queer old fellow. Frank studied Mr. Cooler carefully. Had he not felt certain that the man was playing a part, he would have enjoyed the old fellow's chatter. But Frank could see beneath the surface, and he was absolutely satisfied that Mr. Cooler was not what he represented himself to be. Frank had never heard of the Bay Islands Land Company; he did not believe there was such a company in existence. If Cooler was lying, why was he doing so? What was his object in attempting to force himself upon them? Why had he come to the island in such a manner? Frank had decided that Cooler was a spy and he had been set upon them by the very ones who were so determined to drive them away from that island. In that case, this light-hearted, careless old fellow was connected with a gang of criminals who did not hesitate to do murder in order to conceal their crimes. Mr. Cooler did not stop eating clams till the last one was devoured, and he disposed of that himself. "Ah!" he sighed, drawing back and finding a comfortable position, where he could sit with his back resting against a bowlder. "Now, I do feel good! Young gentlemen, I am glad you came. Accept my congratulations on this remarkably successful clambake. You have done a good job; I have done another. My stomach has not been in the best possible condition lately. I've been living at home. My wife cooks. Six months ago she was a magnificent, a celestial cook! Oh, how beautifully she could broil a beefsteak! But, alas! Also alack! She got the bicycle craze; she bought a wheel. Now she is an inveterate scorcher." He took a pipe out of his pocket and began to fill it, chattering away in a jolly manner as he did so. He seemed inclined to do all the talking. "Doesn't your jaw get tired at times?" inquired Frank. "Eh?" came in surprise from the little man. "Why?" "I should think it would, you talk so much." "He! he! Ho! ho! Wait a minute. Ha! ha!--knew there was another way to laugh if I could think of it. Jaw get tired? My dear young gentleman, if you had a wife like mine, you would consider it a privilege to talk occasionally. I do not get an opportunity when I am at home. When I get away from home, I make up for lost time. Haw! haw!--came near forgetting that method of laughing. Don't mind me. I know I am something of a chinning machine, but I am harmless. Why, I wouldn't harm a--a--a lion." He lighted the pipe and puffed away a few moments, talking a streak while he smoked. Frank was considering the advisability of pinning him down and demanding to know his real reason for being there, when, of a sudden, the little fellow jumped up spryly as a boy, exclaiming: "This won't do. I must complete my tour of investigation. I must attend to business. I must look the entire island over and be ready to leave when that man comes back for me. Young gentlemen, I thank you for your hospitality. I wish I might stop longer, but, unfortunately, I cannot. So long, so ling, so lung." Browning made a move, as if to stop the man, but Frank gave a sign to let him go. Mr. Cooler scrambled nimbly up the bank, turned and waved his hand with a flirting motion, and then vanished into the bushes. "Fellows," spoke Frank, quickly, "I'm going to follow him. I must do it alone. I'm armed. I can take care of myself. But if I do not return in an hour, look for me." Then he sprang up the bank after the mysterious man in gray. CHAPTER XXIV. THE WHISPERING GLADE. Frank had learned the art of trailing from Indian guides in the West, and, for a white person, he was an expert. As a shadower, he had the skill of one who had been all his life in the business. He did not let the man in gray get far away before approaching near enough so Mr. Cooler could be seen occasionally as he slipped through the bushes. But it was not difficult to follow the queer old man, for Cooler did not seem to imagine for a moment that he was shadowed. He walked swiftly, puffing away at his pipe, and the smell of burning tobacco came back to the nostrils of the pursuing lad. After a little time the man struck the path that runs round the island and through the old granite quarry. Then he walked still more swiftly, but Frank also found less trouble in following. Soon the quarry was reached. Cooler passed straight through this and struck the track which led down the incline to the sheds near the wharf. Now Frank was not able to pursue him so closely; he was forced to linger far behind, for to keep close meant certain discovery should the man look back. Still he followed. The track ran through a cut and wound slowly along a bank, to one side of which lay the water. Frank reached the cut and saw the man in gray disappear beyond some bowlders. A moment later Merry was at the bowlders, peering down the track toward the still retreating form of the little man, over whose shoulders at regular intervals curled blue puffs of smoke. Frank had expected that the man would be suspicious and would look round frequently. He was astonished when the man did not look round at all. "He doesn't act like a criminal," Frank decided. "He hasn't the air of a criminal. He walks along as if he had not a care in all the wide world and did not fear to have all his actions watched. It is strange--very strange." Already Merry had learned that men who commit crimes betray themselves by certain peculiar movements. The thief unconsciously assumes the pose of a man picking a pocket, or taking what does not belong to him. The burglar crouches in his walk and steals along catlike. The guilty man often casts sly backward glances over his shoulder. It is rare for him to have the air and manner of innocence. But this little man in gray, when, without doubt, he believed himself to be alone, was still the same care-free, careless old fellow. He disappeared into one of the sheds at the end of the railroad. Frank had slipped yet a little nearer and watched from a place of hiding. Five minutes passed, and then the man in gray and another man came out of that shed and took the path that led toward the old boarding house. Frank uttered a low exclamation. "Is it possible?" he muttered. "I believe I know that fellow with him." He watched the companion of the man in gray. As they passed from view, he again muttered: "I do know him! He is Dan Hicks, the cock-eyed man! That settles it! Mr. Caleb Cooler is just what I thought--he is one of the gang, and he came here to spy upon us!" Frank ran lightly down the track, hidden by the bank beyond which the men had disappeared. He stooped as he ran. Ahead of him he saw the point where Browning had pried up the rails and sent a flat car, loaded with granite, into the water, thus saving Frank's life. He shuddered as he thought of his sensations during those terrible moments of peril while he was bound to the track and could hear the car rumbling toward him. The bank grew lower till at last he could not keep hidden behind it if he ran farther down the track. Then he flung himself flat on the bank and crawled up till he could peer over. The two men were walking toward the distant boarding house. Hicks was talking excitedly, while Cooler still smoked. Hicks looked back suspiciously, but the man in gray did not turn his head. They passed the house where the overseer had lived when he was on the island with the crew of men who worked in the quarry--they were again hidden from view. Over the bank scrambled Frank. Keeping the house between him and the men, he ran swiftly forward. In a short time he reached the house. He paused to listen, his heart thumping loudly. He could hear nothing. Then he slipped round the house. He carefully peered round each corner before advancing. At the second corner he halted, for again he could see the men he was shadowing. They were near the old building in which Frank had been struck down. The man in gray seemed to be asking questions. He was surveying the surroundings as if he had never inspected them before. For fifteen minutes they stood there talking, and then they went into the building. Frank decided to return to his friends. He quickly darted up an incline toward some cedars, which he saw grew thicker and thicker higher up the slope. Soon he was hidden by the bushes. Then Frank went forward more slowly, taking pains to keep in the bushes. Up above was a ledgy height. He came to it after a time. He found a position where he could look down into the old quarry. From that position he could see the overturned car and the granite which lay in the water at the foot of the bank down which it had jumped. He could also look far out over the island-dotted bay. He could see small boats in the distance, he could see white sails, he could see the sunshine reflected on the blue water. In the midst of this mass of water and islands lay Devil Island, shrouded by mystery, lonely and desolate, shunned by man. Once before he had strongly felt the air of desolation that seemed to hang about the place, and now the same uncanny sensation was creeping over him again. Somehow it seemed that he was far from men, far from life, lost in a lonely waste of water, cast on an uncanny island. He shook himself, trying to throw off the feeling. He wondered why it should come upon him at that time, and then he began to remember how he had first felt it once before when near that very spot. "The glade--the grave in the woods!" He muttered the words, realizing that the woods were close at hand. They lay there dark and gloomy. He must pass through them in order to reach the _White Wings_, or he must retrace his steps and take the path. To do the latter would be sure to expose him to the men he had watched. But Frank did not wish to turn back. There was something fascinating as well as repellent about the woods. Down there was a grave. At the head of the grave was a stone. On that stone was chiseled: "Sacred to the Memory of Rawson Denning." Denning, like Frank Merriwell, had been inquisitive. He had attempted to solve the mystery of the island, and he had disappeared. Afterward the grave had been found on the island. No one had dared open that grave to see if the body of the missing man from Boston lay within. Frank felt a desire to look at that grave again. He went down toward it, entering the thick woods. Every step that he advanced seemed to cause the feeling to grow stronger upon him. The woods were silent and deserted. It did not seem possible that there could be a thing of life other than Frank anywhere within them. All at once, with astonishing suddenness, he came out into the opening and there before him was the grave, the headstone gleaming gray in the dim light. Frank paused. Involuntarily he listened. He had not forgotten how, on his other visit to the spot, both he and Browning had seemed to hear a mysterious whisper in the air, had seemed to hear a rustle down in that grave, as if the murdered man turned restlessly. Without knowing why he did so, Frank listened again. "Look!" He started, for it seemed that he had heard that whisper. He glanced all around. Silence in the woods. Not even the rustle of a leaf. How lonely it was! "Look!" Again that word, coming from he knew not where. At what should he look? What did it mean? Then he told himself that it was all his imagination--he had heard no whispered word. He advanced toward the grave; he stood beside it. "Look!" Was it imagination? This time the whisper sounded amazingly clear and distinct. "Look at what?" In spite of himself, he spoke the words aloud. He did not expect an answer, and he gasped for breath when it came: "The stone!" A quiver ran over Frank Merriwell's body. Of all the mysteries on this island, the mystery of this black whispering glade in the woods was the greatest. He bent forward and looked at the stone. There were fresh chips on the mound, and at a glance he saw that the name "Rawson Denning" had been chiseled out. Below it another name had been cut into the stone, so that the inscription now read: "Sacred to the Memory of Frank Merriwell." CHAPTER XXV. SEARCHING FOR FRANK. As time passed and Frank did not return, the boys began to grow restless and anxious. "I don't like it," declared Diamond, pacing the beach, upon which the tide was washing higher and higher as it came in. "I did not think much of letting him go away alone. We all know what happened to him once when he was alone on this island." "He knows it himself," said Hodge; "and it is mighty hard work to catch him twice in the same trap." "Oh, he's shrewd enough, but he can be overpowered by numbers. What do you think about it, Browning?" Bruce was stretched on the sand, his head pillowed on his coat, which lay on a rock. "I'm not going to think for an hour," he grunted. "Too much trouble." "Oh, your laziness makes me disgusted!" snapped Diamond. "Huah!" came in a puff from the big fellow. "Something seems to be gnawing you still." "Poys," broke in Hans, who still looked sad and weary of living, "I made der biggest mistook uf your life ven I let Vrankie go avay alone all py himseluf to chase dot liddle defil mit der saucy mouth--you heard me vawble!" "If he had fallen into trouble, he would have done some shooting to let us know." "But should we have heard it, Hodge?" asked Diamond. "The island is not very large." "I think it is pretty large, and I do not believe we could hear a gun fired on the other side even under favorable circumstances, and the circumstances are not favorable now." "Why not?" "Wind is blowing the wrong way." "Didn't think of that." The boys soon concluded that the shooting on the farther side of the island would not be heard by them, and straightway their anxiety increased. Diamond was for starting out at once to look for Frank. He did not believe in waiting till the hour was up; but Hodge, who in his heart was the most anxious man of the party, objected to disobeying Merry's plain command. "He told us to stay here an hour, and I shall stay here," said Bart. "I suppose you would stay if you heard him shouting for help?" said the Virginian, hotly. Bart flushed, for he did not fancy being spoken to in that tone of voice. "I have always found it best to do just as Merriwell directs," said Hodge, stiffly. "If you wish to go search for him, you may go. I remain here twenty minutes longer." Browning grunted his approval of the stand taken by Bart, and Jack gave them both a savage look. Hans, who had refused to partake of the clams while the man in gray was present, was feeling very hungry, and that made him still more miserable. "Oxcuse me, poys," he said. "I must made a raid der ship's brovisions ubon. I vill peen pack britty soon, if nod before." Then he took the boat and rowed off to the yacht, where he lost no time in satisfying the cravings of his "inner man." As the Dutch lad appeared on deck to row ashore again, Browning suddenly straightened up from his recumbent position. He had his watch in his hand, and the Dutch lad heard him say: "The hour is up, Hodge." Immediately Bart turned toward the yacht and shouted to Hans: "Bring two of those guns ashore, and plenty of cartridges for them. Be lively about it! We are in a howling hurry." "All righd!" shouted Hans, in return, as he plunged down the companion way. He was not long in getting the guns and placing them in the boat, but when he reached the shore it was discovered that he had brought the wrong cartridges. Then Hodge leaped into the boat and rowed out to the yacht for what was needed, returning in a few minutes. Browning, however, usually careless and lazy, was fretting at the delay, for the big fellow remembered how, but a short time before, he had saved Frank's life by a hair's breadth. A delay of one minute in that case would have been fatal. Bruce had some imagination, and he was beginning to picture Frank in all sorts of peril. "Look here!" came fiercely from Diamond; "what are you chaps up to? Do not think for a moment that you are going to leave me behind! I'm going with you! I am going to help find Merriwell!" "Of course, you can come if you insist," began Bruce. "I do!" cut in Jack. "But I scarcely think it advisable," the big fellow continued. "At least two of our party should remain and watch the yacht." "Hans is enough for that." "Don't you pelief I vos goin' to stayed here alone!" squawked the Dutch boy. "You don'd plaid dot tricks on me!" Jack tried to argue with him--tried to convince him that there could be no danger in remaining on board the yacht; but Hans was obstinate, and the effort failed. "You don'd fool me dot vay," he fiercely exclaimed. "I don'd stayed alone here, dot vos all." It became plain that one of the boys would have to remain with him. Hodge had returned with the proper ammunition, and Jack was not supplied with a gun. "Well," he said, fiercely, "I was the first one who wanted to go after Merriwell, but I seem to be left out of it. All right! I may come later. Perhaps you will need me." "Perhaps so," confessed Bart, grimly. "Give us plenty of time to make a circuit of the island and return here. Then, if we have not appeared, you will have a reason for coming." "Und I vill come mit him," put in Hans. "Don't leave the _White Wings_ unless you feel it is for the best. We are going prepared for trouble, and it will be a warm crowd that gets the best of us. Come on." Away went Bart and the big Yale man, scrambling up the bank with their guns and quickly disappearing into the bushes. Bart took the lead, but Browning was at his heels, swinging along with a stride that covered ground swiftly. There was a look of intense anxiety on the face of the giant. Round the island to the quarry they went, down the railroad they hurried, and soon they were in sight of the spot where not many hours before Frank had nearly lost his life. Browning drew a breath of relief when they did not find the mangled body of Merriwell stretched on the track. Somehow he had felt it was possible the wretches had captured Frank and completed their work at last, and he was dreading to walk down that railroad, fearing he should find the friend he loved and admired dead upon the rails. "He is not here." The words came from Hodge, and they were exactly what Bruce was thinking. "No." "Where shall we go now?" "To the old boarding house." Away they went toward the building. It looked before them, the sunshine glinting on its windows, apparently utterly deserted. There was something forbidding in its appearance. "We shall not find him there!" Hodge spoke the words in full conviction that time would be wasted in looking through the building. "Perhaps not," admitted Bruce; "but I know of no other place to look." This was a confession that the big fellow would be "stumped" if no trace of Frank was found in the building. They reached it, passed round to the back door by which admission had been obtained when Frank and Bruce visited it the first time, and there they hesitated. The door was standing open. "Just exactly as we left it!" exclaimed Browning. "No one has closed the door." This seemed to surprise him. Hodge pushed forward and went in. Bruce followed. The empty rooms echoed to their steps. Everywhere were cobwebs, dust, decay. Some of the windows were broken, some were boarded up. From room to room they went, they ascended the stairs, they spoke in whispers. The sun shone in upon the floor, but it brought nothing of cheer to the deserted building. It seemed like a mocking attempt to make the place look pleasant, an attempt that served to show its dreary desolation all the more plainly. "He is not here," whispered Bart. "The basement," came from Bruce. "It was there that I found him when he disappeared the other time." Down the creaking stairs they went, Browning taking the lead now. The door at the head of the stairs leading into the dark basement was open. "Just as we left it," declared the big fellow. "It was fastened in the first place, so Merry said. He had to force it open." They lighted matches as they went down the stairs into the basement. The place was dismal enough, filled with old boxes and barrels. "Frank!" Browning called, causing Hodge to start and drop his match. Then they stood still and listened. Squeak! squeak! A rat scampered across the ground beneath their feet. That was all. There was no answer to Browning's call. "He is not here." "No." They lost little time in hastening up the stairs and getting out of the old building. As soon as they were in the open air they drew deep breaths, for they had been stifled and oppressed. "Where next?" asked Bart. "The house," said Bruce. "We must not go away without looking through that." "Can we get in?" "We will find a way--or make it!" CHAPTER XXVI. AGAIN AT THE GRAVE. The door of the house would not open for them. Bruce threatened to burst it in with his shoulders, but Bart advised him not to do so, unless as a last resort. Then a window was found that would open, and soon they had clambered in. There was some furniture in the house, but still the place had the same dreary, deserted air of the big building they had just left. Browning began by shouting Frank's name, to which cry there was no answer. The rising wind rattled a loose window. It did not take them long to go through the house, to which there was no cellar, and they found nothing to indicate that a human being had entered the place for months. As they stood outside, after getting out of the window and closing it behind them, they looked at each other in a helpless manner. "What has become of him?" asked Bart, huskily. "That is what I would like to know," confessed Bruce. "He seems to have disappeared completely." "And the man in gray----" "Is gone, too." "Browning, I am afraid Merry was lured into some sort of a trap." "So am I." "Why should they take him in particular, and not harm any of the rest of us?" "Perhaps their motto is one at a time." "No. I believe Frank was selected out of our party as the one to get out of the way. He was determined to solve the mystery of this wretched island, and he was the leader of our party. The ruffians fancied that they would put an end to all trouble by getting him out of the way, for they fancied we would run at once." Browning grunted, and Hodge went on swiftly and fiercely: "By the eternal skies, they made a big mistake! I'll not leave this island till I know what has happened to Frank Merriwell, or I am dead!" "Nor I," nodded Bruce. "I'm with you, old man." "If he has been harmed," Bart went on, "the wretches who did the dirty work shall suffer! I swear it!" "I'm another." "We will bring them to justice!" "Or kick the bucket trying." They shook hands on it, and they were in deadly earnest. They decided not to return to the yacht by the path, but to go over the island and through the woods. Thus, by chance, they followed almost directly in Frank's footsteps. As they drew near to the dark woods, Browning felt a tightening at his heart--a sensation similar to that he had once before experienced as he stood beside the lonely grave in the dark glade. He sought to throw it off, but could not do so. "Come," he said. "Which way?" asked Bart. "This way." He seemed to feel something drawing him toward the grave in the glade, and Bart followed without another word. Unconsciously the big Yale man stepped softly, as if he feared to alarm somebody or something. The moss beneath his feet gave no sound. Not even a twig snapped. Without knowing that he did so, Hodge imitated Browning's stealthy manner. The wind soughed through the pines and cedars in a fitful manner. There seemed to be strange rustlings in the air. At the edge of the glade Bruce halted. There was the grave, with the gray headstone. He stood there staring at it. Somehow he was possessed by a feeling that the grave had something to do with the vanishing of Frank Merriwell, although his reason told him that such a thing was folly. "What is the matter?" Hodge almost whispered the question, for he was beginning to feel the uncanny air that overshadowed the place. "There is the grave," said Bruce. "What grave?" "Why, the one we told you about--the grave of the Boston man who disappeared in such a mysterious manner. It is supposed that he was murdered on this island and buried there." Bart shivered. "You act as if you half expected to see another grave beside that one," he muttered. "Not so soon." "But to-morrow----" "If Frank has been foully dealt with, the villains have not been given time to make another grave. His body is hidden somewhere. But I will not believe anything of the kind has happened. We shall find him somewhere--alive and well." "We must!" Bruce remembered the strange whispering they had heard there when he and Frank visited the place, and now he listened, half expecting to hear it again. The silence was unbroken save by the mournful sound of the wind in the trees. Bruce went forward quickly and stood by the grave. Bart came up, and together they looked down at the gray headstone. "What is that?" asked Hodge, pointing. "Somebody has been doing something to the stone since it was placed here." They bent down and looked at the stone. "Why," cried Bruce, "the first name has been chiseled off! Another name has been put on! That name is----" "Frank Merriwell!" Astounded, they stared at the headstone. What did it mean? Why was that name upon it? The tightening sensation grew around Browning's heart. All at once it seemed that the mystery of the island was deeper and darker than ever before. "Now what do you think of that?" cried Bart, huskily. Bruce shook his head, for the moment feeling that he was not able to speak. It did not seem that he could govern his voice. All sorts of wild fancies were rushing through his head. He looked at the mound, and a feeling of relief came to him when he saw that it seemed undisturbed. Hodge was shaking. He reached out and grasped the big fellow's arm with a savage clutch. "Was it--was it meant for a warning?" he asked. "Yes," said Bruce, quickly grasping at that explanation, "it must have been. You have struck it, Hodge." "Then it is not likely Frank saw it." "Perhaps not, and yet he may have come here." Then they stood there a long time, silently staring at that stone, on which was chiseled the name of the friend they held dearest in all the world. At last Bruce hoarsely said: "Come, let's get away from here!" "But it may be that--somehow--we may strike a clew here. This may be a clew. This may explain what has happened." "If this explains it, there is but one construction to be placed on Frank's remarkable disappearance." "And that is that he is----" "Dead!" In the treetops the wind seemed to repeat the word in a whisper. But neither Bart nor Bruce were willing to believe that Frank Merriwell was dead, for all that his name was there before them on the gray stone at the head of the lonely grave. "Dead or living, I'll never rest till I know the truth!" came passionately from Bart's lips. "If he is dead, the murderers shall suffer!" "We must throw off the feeling that anything so awful has happened. Even now he may be with the others at the yacht. While we have been searching for him, he may have returned." Hodge caught at this eagerly. "You are right!" he said. "Come on; we will hurry back there." They left the glade, turning to look back as they passed on into the gloomy woods. They were glad to get away. At first they hurried on, their hearts buoyant with the thought that they should find him waiting for them at the yacht. He would laugh at them, would jolly them because of their foolish fears. The placing of his name on the headstone of the grave was a ghastly joke, and nothing more. In his mind Browning was thinking how he would growl at Merry for causing them so much trouble. He even thought of the words he would use. But as they came nearer and nearer to the side of the island near which the yacht was anchored, their spirits fell again and they were beset by doubts and fears. What if they should not find Frank waiting for them when they arrived? These doubts caused them to walk slower and slower, for they dreaded to hear that Frank was still missing. "It seems to me," said Bart, "that it is very probable Merriwell will not be with Jack and Hans." "He may not be," confessed Bruce. "If he had returned, they would have fired guns and done things to let us know it." "We might not have heard them." "We should. The wind is right. We are near the yacht now." Bruce felt like turning back and making another search. He dreaded to return and report that they had discovered nothing save the name of the missing lad on the headstone of a grave. All at once they came out of the woods upon the high bank, from which position they could look down into the cove where the yacht lay. There she was, swinging idly with the incoming tide, and on her deck they could see Dunnerwust and Diamond. Merriwell was not in sight. Almost as soon as they came out of the thick woods, they were seen by Diamond, and he called to them: "What have you found?" "Nothing," answered Hodge, gloomily. "Hasn't Frank returned?" "No!" CHAPTER XXVII. SLIPPERY MR. COOLER. Immediately Diamond and Dunnerwust got into the boat, which floated beside the yacht. They took guns, and Hans soon rowed the boat ashore. Bart and Bruce came down the bank and told them where they had been and what they had seen. On hearing about the name on the headstone, Diamond became greatly excited. "My God!" he cried. "Can it be that Frank has been killed? If so, I'll never forgive myself for letting him follow that man alone! Oh, that treacherous little devil! I could strangle him! I wish I had him here now!" "So do I, py Chorch!" shouted Hans. "It would not be healthy for Mr. Cooler," said Browning. "Were you speaking of me, young gentlemen?" chirped a familiar voice, and down the bank came the man in gray, calmly walking up to the astonished lads. "I hope you were not saying anything behind my back that you do not care to repeat before my face." "No!" rang out the clear voice of the Virginian. "I called you a treacherous little devil, and I repeat it!" "That's complimentary, to say the least," grinned the man in gray, in his provokingly careless manner. "But I'd like to know what I have done to lead you to speak thus disparagingly of me. Wouldst tell me?" Browning reached out and collared the queer old fellow, lifting him off his feet and swinging him around so he was in the midst of them. "There!" grunted the big Yale man, with satisfaction. "Now we have you! You can't run, so don't try it!" "If you try it, by the Lord Harry! I'll fill you full of lead!" came hoarsely from Hodge, who was fingering the gun in his hands as if he longed to shoot Cooler anyhow. "Ah, me!" sighed the little man. "How rude you are, young gentlemen! Is it possible you are in your right minds?--or have I fallen in with a lot of lunatics? Why, I wouldn't run for anything! It's not necessary to threaten me. I wish you would tell me what I have done to arouse your ire." "Where is Frank Merriwell?" "Hey?" "Where is he?" snarled Diamond, showing his white teeth. "Don't lie, man! Don't try it! If you do we will put you where you will lure no other person into a trap!" "Goodness me!" said Mr. Cooler, somewhat mockingly. "You are very much excited, young man. I do not know what you are driving at." "Don't lie! I tell you it is dangerous! We are desperate!" "You really seem so." "Where is he?" "How do I know?" "You do know! He followed you, and you trapped him some way. What have you done with him?" "He! he!" chuckled the little man. "Followed me, did he? Why did he do that? It seems to me he should have been more careful." "There it is!" burst from Hodge. "That is the same as a boast! Now we know you have done something to him!" "You are a very knowing young man." Now the manner of the man in gray aroused the anger and resentment of the boys. He seemed to be taunting them. "Shall we shoot the snake, Bruce?" asked Diamond, his face purple with passion. "Shall we avenge Frank?" "Not just yet," said Browning. "We will give him a chance for his life." "You are very kind!" murmured Mr. Cooler. "If he will tell us what has become of Frank--if he will lead us to Frank, we will spare his life." "What if I don't know where he is?" "You do know. You dare not deny it!" "You are very much mistaken, for I do deny it. I give you my word of honor that I do not know where Mr. Merriwell is at this moment. I do know he followed me. He thought he was doing a very shrewd thing, and I must confess that I rather admired his skill at it, but I knew all the time that he was behind me." "Ha!" exclaimed Hodge. "Then you know what became of him?" "No. He followed me over to the other side of the island, and then he started to return by coming straight back through the woods. That is all I know. I am here to learn if he returned safely. If he did, I intended to warn him that his life was in danger if he should go about the island alone. You must see that I am serious now." "Oh, yes, we see!" came scornfully from Diamond. "It is too thin! It will not work, Mr. Cooler. You know too much not to know more. If you wish to keep your skin whole, just lead us straight to Frank Merriwell--that's all!" "I can't. I would do it if I could. But I give you my word to do my best to save him if he is in trouble. That is the best I can do." Diamond's anger caused him to lose his head so that he threatened the old man with his fist. He quickly realized what he was doing, however, and, with an air of apology, he cried: "If you keep it up, you will lead me to do something of which I shall be ashamed. You can't fool us, old man. We have you foul, and we'll never let up on you till you lead us to Frank Merriwell. We are young, but you will find we can keep a pledge like men." In truth, Cooler seemed in earnest as he said: "Young gentleman, you wrong me very much. I am ready to go with you and do what I can to help find Mr. Merriwell, but that is all I can do. It will be better if you will let me go alone. I shall be able to work alone far better." "Oh, yes," sneered Hodge. "You think we are fools! No, we go with you." "All right. I am ready." It did not seem that anything further could be forced from his lips. They warned him that they would not hesitate to shoot if he tried to run away, and then they climbed the bank. "If you want me to lead you," said Mr. Cooler, "come on." He did not take the path, but plunged into the woods. They kept close to him, watching him. "If you try to lead us into a trap," said Hodge, "you will be sorry. If we are ambushed here in these woods, my first shot will be at you. I'll fix you, if I never do another thing." There was nothing like bluster in the words, and Mr. Caleb Cooler knew Bart meant exactly what he said. "That is all right," nodded the little man. "Shoot away." He led them toward the glade in which was the mysterious grave. At last they stood around the grave, and he said: "Here is something I discovered since coming to the island. That name was on the stone before I joined you at the clambake. I forgot to tell you about it." "Yesterday there was another name on that stone," said Browning. "The new name must have been cut there after we left the island yesterday afternoon." "I do not know when it was cut there," declared Cooler; "but everything shows it must have been very recently. I do know it was there when I landed on this island to-day." "And you know who cut it there!" accused Diamond. "If you think so, it is useless to deny it." "Now take us to Frank Merriwell!" "All I can do is aid you in the search. I am willing to go anywhere with you." They passed on from the dark glade, leaving the mysterious grave behind them. Cooler seemed inclined to keep to the left, although the woods were thicker there. They pushed forward, as if passing through a jungle. Branches whipped them in the face, and beneath their feet the underbrush crackled. All at once Diamond shouted: "Stop! stop! Where is Cooler?" "Why," grunted Browning, "he's right here. Thunder! He was at my elbow a moment ago. I scarcely took my eyes off him." "He isn't here now!" rang out Jack's voice. "He has disappeared! He is trying to hide in these thick bushes. Scatter and search for him! If you see him running, shoot at his legs! Stop him somehow!" CHAPTER XXVIII. THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT. The excited lads beat the bushes in vain. Caleb Cooler had disappeared in a moment, as if the ground had opened and swallowed him. It seemed impossible that he could give them the slip in such a manner, but he had. At last four very disgusted and angry boys stopped in a little opening and looked at each other. "We are a set of chumps!" declared Hodge. "That's so!" grunted Browning. "Ought to have held onto the snake all the time," came savagely from Diamond. "Oh, if we had him here now!" "Yaw!" gurgled Hans. "Uf we had him here now he vouldn't done a thing to us!" "I feel like crawling into a hole," growled the big Yale man. "So do I," nodded Hodge; "but I don't know where to find a hole small enough. What fools we are!" "Yaw!" again gurgled Hans. "Vot fools you vos!" "But I'm hanged if I can understand it," said Bruce. "How did he do it? That is what I want to know." "He was within reach at one moment and gone the next." "Let's search again." They did so, but the time was spent in vain. They were close to the rocks which rose above the ground in the vicinity of the quarry, but it seemed an utter impossibility for anyone to hide amid those rocks. They decided to remain in the vicinity and watch for Mr. Cooler, thinking he was in a place of hiding near at hand, and he would be forced to show himself sooner or later. Having decided on this, they scattered somewhat, but were within call of each other. Then they settled down to watch for the man in gray. It became ominously silent there amid the cedars and pines, save when the fitful wind made a rustling. Once a squirrel was heard chattering in the distance. An hour passed, and then Diamond could stand it no longer. He called them together and said: "Fellows, while we remain idle here, those villains may be completing the work of putting Merriwell out of the way. I think we are wasting our time." "So do I," said Hodge. "Und I vos some more," put in Hans. Then they decided to scour the island. If hidden near at hand, Cooler knew they were watching for him, and it was not likely he would make a move. Two hours were spent in wandering over the island, calling to the missing lad. They awoke the echoes in the dark woods, but the echoes were the only answers to their cries. Disheartened and desperate, they returned to the cove in which the yacht lay. They were troubled by fears that something had happened to her while they were away, but when they obtained a view of her, she was seen riding peacefully at anchor. The small boat was there, and Bart was the first to reach it. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation, and then called the attention of the others to a slip of paper that lay beneath a stone that had been placed on one of the seats. A moment later he secured the paper. "There is writing upon it!" he declared. "Read it!" exclaimed the others, pressing nearer. On the paper, which seemed to be a leaf torn from a pocket account book, were scrawled the following words: "You fellers Haid better git erway Frum Devul irelan in a Blame big Hurry or you will git used the saim as frank Merryfull did. you wunt Naver se no moar of Him." "That settles it!" said Diamond, bitterly. "Frank is done for this time! They have finished him--the devils!" "Well, they'll never drive me away from this island till I have found out how they did it and who they are!" vowed Hodge. "Right here I swear I will spend the rest of my life in avenging Merry, if it is necessary." "I am with you!" "And I!" "Yaw! Me, too!" They shook hands on it, with bared heads. Never were four lads in more deadly earnest. The sun was low in the western sky, tinting the rippling waters with golden light. The scene was a peaceful one, and it did not seem possible that an awesome and appalling tragedy had taken place on that quiet little island that day. Despite their determination, the boys were stunned and at a loss to know what was to be done. They entered the boat and rowed off to the yacht. It was plain no one had visited the _White Wings_ while they were away, for nothing on board was molested. Hans was hungry, but he was the only one of them all who seemed to have any appetite. They did not talk much, but all were thinking, and the Dutch boy cried softly over the food he ate. Little had they dreamed when they started out on the cruise that anything so terrible could happen and that they would be so completely dazed and bewildered. Their hearts were full of sorrow, but on their faces were looks of resolution that told they did not mean to be driven away till they had fulfilled their oath. The sun went down redly in the west and tinted twilight crept over the water. In the woods on shore darkness gathered swiftly. They stared away toward those woods, as if watching for the appearance of their missing friend. All at once Jack caught hold of Hodge, hissing: "Look there!" "Where?" "Down toward the point. See--back in the shadows beyond the two pines! Can you see them there?" "I see something." "Two figures?" "Yes." "I saw them move--saw them come out of the woods. They are men, and they are watching us!" "That's right." "And one of them is that snake, the little man in gray!" "I believe it!" "I know it! Get a rifle, Hodge!" "What would you do?" "Shoot him!" panted the hot-blooded Virginian. "Get a rifle! I will put a bullet through the villain!" Although hot-blooded and reckless himself Bart realized that Diamond must not do anything of the kind. But he did not find it necessary to reason with Jack, for the two men turned and disappeared into the woods. "They're gone!" exclaimed the Virginian, regretfully. "But they may come back again. We must keep a close watch to-night. There is no telling what desperate deed they may attempt." So the night was divided into watches, and each lad took his turn on deck. The sky became overcast, so there was little light. The black shadow of the shore seemed potent with dangers. Bart had his second watch on deck, and it was not far from midnight when he was startled to hear a voice hailing from the shore: "Ahoy, the yacht!" "What do you want?" asked Bart, gripping a revolver and staring toward the point from which the voice had seemed to come. "Who are you?" "Caleb Cooler, at your service," came back the answer. "I thought I'd tell you something that may relieve your minds somewhat. Frank Merriwell is alive and unharmed." Bart gasped. "Why do you come to tell us that?" he asked. "Because I know you are worrying about him. Don't worry. He will be with you to-morrow." This angered Bart so that he lifted his revolver, being tempted to send a random shot toward the point from which the voice seemed to come, but he changed his mind and lowered the weapon. "So long," called the voice of the queer old man. "Turn in and sleep. You won't be troubled." "That is what they want us to do," thought Bart. "It is a trick. But they can't fool us that way." No further sound was heard from the shore. Cooler did not answer, although Bart called to him several times. Jack had heard Hodge speaking, and he came on deck. When Bart told Diamond what had happened, the latter was furious. "If I had been here, I would have fired six shots in his direction," he declared. Diamond took his turn on deck, and it was about two o'clock when he fancied he heard the sound of oars. The sound came nearer and nearer, till at last it seemed that the boat reached the island, and then the sound was heard no more. Morning dawned, and Browning arose in a strangely agitated state of mind. Never had his companions seen him in such a condition. When asked about it, he said: "Boys, I had a queer dream. I'm going to tell you what it was. I dreamed that Frank Merriwell is buried in the grave on the island. I thought him buried alive. We dug him out and restored him to life." "It can't be that Merry is buried there, for the mound has not been disturbed lately," said Diamond. "All the same," declared Browning, "I am going to open that grave. I am going to know the secret it holds." CHAPTER XXIX. THE SECRET OF THE GRAVE. Browning was determined, and it was not long before he had worked the others into a state of excitement over it. Without waiting for breakfast, they sprang into the boat and rowed ashore. "I saw some tools in the sheds at the end of the railroad," said Bruce. "We will secure them." The path was taken, and they passed through the old quarry and down the track to the sheds. There they found a pick and spade. With those in their possession, they hastened to the black glade in which lay the grave. For once in his life Bruce Browning was filled with energy--he was aroused. But even as he reached the grave, he halted suddenly, his hand uplifted, hoarsely gasping: "Listen!" The boys were silent. "Help!" It was a smothered cry, and it seemed to come from the ground at their feet. It made the hair of the Dutch boy stand and his teeth chatter. It astonished and amazed them all. "Help!" Again that smothered cry seemed to come from the grave. What did it mean? "Use the pick, Hodge!" hoarsely commanded Browning. "We will soon open it up. Go at it lively!" Bart obeyed, and the ground gave back a strange, hollow sound as he struck his pick into it. Browning shoveled away the dirt, having torn off his coat to work with greater ease. Soon something of a hole had been made in the mound. All at once, with a cry of horror, Bart started back, pointing down into the hole they had made. "Look!" he gasped. "That ring--that hand! It is Frank Merriwell's hand!" And there before them they saw a human hand that seemed to be thrust up through the ground. Hans began to pray. The hand moved--it clawed desperately at the ground! "It is Frank!" Diamond almost screamed. "He is down there! He has been buried alive! Dig, fellows--dig! But be careful not to hurt him!" At that moment the ground caved in at their feet, and up out of it rose the dirt-covered head of Frank Merriwell. He rubbed the dirt out of his eyes, and then he cheerfully observed: "Good-morning, fellows! It seems to be a pleasant morning outside, but it's a trifle close inside. If you will take hold and pull me out, I'll be much obliged." They clutched him--they dragged him to the surface. Behind him lay a deep, dark hole that was not filled by the earth that had caved in. "Well, of all things wonderful!" grunted Browning. "Never knew anything like this before--never heard of anything like this! I believe I am still dreaming!" "Frank, are you hurt?" asked Diamond. "Not much," answered Merry. "They trapped me without much trouble. I didn't have a chance to get hurt." "But to be buried under the ground--to be in a grave!" "Eh? A grave? Why, Great Scott! It is the grave--and the stone with my name on it! This is the spot where I was caught. I was standing right here. A man dropped down out of this tree and struck on my shoulders. He laid me out, and it wasn't hard to tie me up. Then I was towed away under ground, and a guard was placed over me. It's a close little hole down there, but the guard left me after he had watched till he was tired, and then I finally managed to get free, and I tried to dig out where they had closed up what once was the mouth of the cave." "What's that?" asked Hodge. "A cave?" "Exactly; and there was an opening into it here at one time. They closed it up and made this fake grave over the spot. That's just what they did." "But your voice--we could hear it." "Look at this headstone. There is a hole straight down through it. Below there is a tube that runs down into the cave. Anyone at the lower end of the tube can speak so they can be heard here. That is how those mysterious whispers reached our ears. Oh, it is a great scheme! It made the place seem haunted." "But where is the other opening to the cave?" "It must be near here, though I was blindfolded when I was taken in. Mr. Cooler was in the game. He came up suddenly a long, long time ago. Talked with the chap who was guarding me. Said he had been forced to dodge you chaps." "That's when he gave us the slip," said Diamond. "I'd like to see the little whelp again!" "Your wish shall be gratified," said a familiar voice, and Mr. Cooler walked into the glade, followed by three other men, all dressed in black. "I am here!" "It's the gang!" cried Diamond. "We'll have to fight for it, fellows!" "Don't fight," advised the man in gray, laughing. "It isn't necessary. We are not the gang, but we have the gang nicely corralled. You have known me as Caleb Cooler, but I am, in fact, Dustin Douglass, of the secret service. These gentlemen with me are deputies, and we have just captured a gang of counterfeiters who have been making all sorts of trouble for the government. If you think I am lying, young gentlemen, I will show you my credentials. I managed to get in with the gang myself by pretending to be a skillful shover of the queer, and that is why I have been seen with some of them. Last night my deputies came onto the island in a boat, and this morning we raked in all of the gang. We have them nicely ironed over at the old boarding house, where one of my men is watching over them. Among them, Mr. Merriwell, are your friends, Hicks and Wiley. Somehow they think you were concerned in their undoing, and they have expressed sincere regrets that they did not do you up, instead of capturing you and stowing you here in the old cave. The chap who was watching you came over to get his breakfast this morning, and now he is ironed with the others. There are four in all. "I trust you will pardon me for the deception, young gentlemen," smiled the little secret service officer. "Had to do it, you know. Just came over to set Mr. Merriwell at liberty, but I see you are here ahead of me." Bruce Browning leaned against a tree, looking tired and unnerved. "This is too much for me!" he muttered. "I'm sure to go into brain fever! I can't comprehend it all." Nor could the others just then, but every word the little man had spoken proved true. He showed them the skillfully concealed entrance to the cave, which was sometimes used in which to hide the bogus money. They understood how he had been able to give them the slip in such a remarkable manner. Then all went over to the old boarding house, where the boys inspected the prisoners. Dan Hicks glared at Frank and cursed him, snarling: "All I regret is that I didn't cut your throat!" Beneath the building was a room the boys had not discovered, and there the "queer" had been made. At last the mystery of the island was solved, and Frank Merriwell was satisfied. But the boys had been furnished with a topic for conversation and discussion that would be interesting for a long time to come. And Frank was well satisfied to leave Devil Island at last. THE END. 
45141	----	produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) _BY FRANCIS LYNDE_ PIRATES' HOPE THE FIRE BRINGERS THE GIRL A HORSE AND A DOG THE WRECKERS DAVID VALLORY BRANDED STRANDED IN ARCADY AFTER THE MANNER OF MEN THE CITY OF NUMBERED DAYS THE HONORABLE SENATOR SAGEBRUSH THE PRICE A ROMANCE IN TRANSIT _CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS_ PIRATES' HOPE PIRATES' HOPE BY FRANCIS LYNDE NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1922 COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Printed in the United States of America Published April, 1922 [Illustration] TO EDWARD YOUNG CHAPIN FRIEND OF MANY YEARS AND KINDLIEST OF CRITICS, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I INTRODUCING MR. MACHIAVELLI VAN DYCK 3 II THE SHIP'S COMPANY 19 III THE MAJOR--AND OTHERS 36 IV THE LOG OF THE _Andromeda_ 50 V ANY PORT IN A STORM 61 VI A SEA CHANGE 72 VII SHORE LEAVE 86 VIII INTO THE PRIMITIVE 103 IX THE BULLY 115 X THE BONES OF THE _Santa Lucia_ 131 XI FINDERS KEEPERS 144 XII BONTECK UNLOADS 159 XIII THE WIND AND THE WAVES ROARING 175 XIV HAND TO MOUTH 193 XV THE MERRY WAR 212 XVI A MARATHON AND AN ULTIMATUM 235 XVII CAPTAIN ELIJAH SCORES 251 XVIII UNDER A GIBBOUS MOON 266 XIX THE FORWARD LIGHT 285 PIRATES' HOPE I INTRODUCING MR. MACHIAVELLI VAN DYCK TO those who knew him best and had known him longest, Bonteck Van Dyck, sometime captain of his university eleven, a ball player with the highest batting average on the university nine, a large-lettered star in everything pertaining to athletic accomplishments, and above and beyond this the fortunate--or unfortunate, as one chooses to view it--inheritor of the obese Van Dyck fortune, figured, like the dead kitten discovered on the ash heap by the investigative infant, as "a perfectly good cat, spoiled." As was most natural, the spoiling was usually charged in a lump sum to the exaggerated fortune. In the university Van Dyck was a breezy, whole-souled, large-hearted man's man, the idol of his set and fraternity and a pathetically easy mark for the college borrower. Past the college period, however, there came rumors of a radical change; sharp-edged hints that the easy mark was becoming an increasingly hard mark; vague intimations that this prince of good fellows of an earlier day was attaining a certain stony indifference to suffering on the part of those who sought to relieve him of some portion of the money burden. Nay, more; it was whispered that he was not above using the bloated bank account as a club wherewith to dash out the brains of his opponents, not only in the market-place, but at the social fireside, where, as a handsome young Croesus, owning a goodly handful of Manhattan frontages, sailing his own yacht, and traveling in his own private car, he was the legitimate quarry of the match-making mothers--or fathers. Though we had been reasonably close friends in the university days, it so chanced that I had seen next to nothing of Van Dyck during the three years immediately following the doling out of the coveted sheepskins in Commencement Week; and the echoes of these derogatory stories--echoes were all that had drifted out to me in the foreign field to which, as a constructing engineer, I had gone soon after my graduation--were somehow vastly unconvincing. But on a certain memorable autumn evening in a New Orleans hotel, when I found myself sitting across a table for two as Van Dyck's guest, listening while he explained, or tried to explain, why he had cabled me from Havana to meet him at this particular time and place, it was disconcertingly evident that the golden youth of the old university days had really developed into something different--different, and just a shade puzzling. "You see, Preble, you are the one man I was most anxious to find," he was saying, for the third time since the half-shell oysters had been served. "By the sheerest good luck I happened to run across Bertie Witherspoon in Havana, and he told me that you were, or had been, running the blockade, or something of that sort, down on the Venezuela coast, and that a wire to the Barcado Brothers' New Orleans headquarters would probably reach you." "Running the blockade!" I broke in derisively. "That is about as near as a New York provincial like Bertie Witherspoon could come to any fact outside of his native Borough of Manhattan! There is no blockade on the Venezuelan coast; and I've been building a railroad from Trujillo up into the Sierra Nevada de Merida. Does this trifling difference make me any less the man you were anxious to find?" "Not in the least," he returned, with the old-time, boyish smile wrinkling at the corners of his fine eyes. "But I do hope you've got your railroad built and are footloose and free to take another commission." "No," I said; "the railroad isn't finished. But as it probably never will be, under the present Venezuelan administration, we can leave it out of the question." "Then you could take a month or so off, if you should feel like it?" "I could, yes; if the hotel bills wouldn't prove to be too high." Again the good-natured smile identified the Teck Van Dyck of other days for me. "There won't be any hotel bills," he said gently. "You are to be my guest on the _Andromeda_ for a little cruise." "On the _Andromeda_?" I exclaimed. "You don't mean to say you've got that baby Cunarder with you down here in these waters?" "Yea, verily, and for a fact," was the smiling reply. "I came up the big river in her this afternoon. Been knocking about a bit among the islands to dodge the country-house invitations up home." "Out of tune with the little social gods and goddesses?" I ventured. "Out of tune with a good many things, Dick. This is a sorry old world, and the people in it are sorrier--most of 'em. Everything's a bore." I laughed. "Since when have you been soaking Diogenes and the later Cynics?" "Chortle if you want to," he returned. "Old Man Socrates had it about right when he said that virtue is knowledge, and Antisthenes went him one better when he said, 'Let men gain wisdom--or buy a rope.' Another time he says, 'A horse I can see, but horsehood I can not see.' That applies to humanity, as well." "Meaning that things--and people--are not always what they seem?" "Meaning that people are so seldom what they seem that you can ignore the exceptions. Somebody has said that there are two distinct entities in the ego; the man as he sees himself, and the man as God sees him. That is only a fraction of a great truth. There are as many entities as the man has human contacts; he is not precisely the same man to any two of his acquaintances, and he is a hypocrite with most." "Bosh!" said I, thinking I had the key to all this hard-bitted, and lately acquired, philosophy. "You have too much money, Bonteck; that is all that is the matter with you." He put down his oyster fork and looked me squarely in the eye. He was the same handsome, upstanding young Hercules that he had always been, but there was something new and more or less provocative in the contemptuous set of the mouth and the half belligerent emphasis of the well-defined jaw. "You've said it, Dick; I have too much money, and other people haven't enough," was his rather enigmatical retort. Then: "You may call it madman raving if you like, but I've lost my sense of perspective; I can't tell an honest man--or woman--when I see one." "All of which leads up to?----" "To the thing which has brought me to New Orleans, and to my reason for wiring you from Havana. My philosophy has led me to the jumping-off place, Dick. Before I am two months older I am going to know at least one small bunch of people for what they really are under their skins. And you are going to help me to acquire this invaluable information. How does that proposal strike you?" "It strikes me a trifle remindfully, if you insist on knowing," I said. "I haven't been altogether out of touch with the home people, and quite a few of them have had something to say about this loss of perspective that you've just confessed to. I've been writing most of the gossip off to profit and loss, but----" "You needn't," was his brusque interruption. "As I've said, this is a pretty rotten world, if anybody should ask." "Is it, indeed? How many millions does it take to give a man that point of view?" "That is the devil of it," he said, with a touch of bitterness. "Will you believe me when I say that, apart from yourself and two or three other honest money-despisers like you, I don't really know, as man to man, or man to woman, half a dozen people on the face of the planet?" "I'll believe that you think so. Still, that is all piffle, as you very well know. So far as the women are concerned, it merely means that you haven't met the one and only." Van Dyck was silent while the waiter was placing the meat course. During the plate-changing interval I became unpleasantly conscious of the presence--the curiously obtrusive presence--of a dark-faced, black-mustachioed little man sitting two tables away, and apparently engrossed in his dinner. Why this one foreign-looking individual, out of the many late diners comfortably filling the large room, should disturb me, I could not determine; but the vague disquietude came--and remained. Twice I thought I caught the small man watching my tablemate furtively from beneath his heavy eyebrows; and when Van Dyck began to speak again, I was almost certain I detected that half mechanical cocking of an ear which betrays the intentional and eager eavesdropper. "The one and only woman," said Van Dyck musingly, taking up the thread of the table talk at the point where it had been broken by the shifting of plates. "That is another exploded fallacy, Preble. There are dozens of the 'one-and-onlys,' each with a scheming mamma, or a grafting father, or an impecunious guardian who has been thriftlessly making ducks and drakes of his ward's trust funds. And they are all so immitigably decent and well-behaved and conventional that butter wouldn't melt in the mouth of a single one of them. They never, by any chance, let you see one-sixty-fourth of an inch below the surface." "I grant you surfaces are more or less deceptive," I admitted. "But your charge is too sweeping. You can't lump humanity any more than you can the stars in heaven." "Can't I? Wait and you shall see. And it isn't altogether what you are thinking; that I have been 'touched' so often that it has soured me. Heaven knows I've been a perfect Pool of Bethesda to a whole worldful of financial cripples ever since I left the university; but I don't especially mind the graft. What I do mind is the fact that it makes smiling hypocrites out of the grafters, big and little. Not one of them dares show me his real self, and there are times when I am fairly sick at heart for one little refreshing glimpse of humanity in the raw." "Which is more piffle," I commented. "You didn't cable me to come and eat a New Orleans dinner with you on the bare chance that I'd let you work off a batch of grouches on me, did you?" His answer was delayed so long that I wondered if he were trying to determine beforehand how much or how little he might be obliged to tell me. But finally he broke ground, rather cautiously, I thought, in the field of the explanations. "No; I didn't ask you for the purpose of unloading my peculiar and personal grievances upon you, tempting as that may have been. I have a deep-laid plot, and I want you to help me carry it out. It is just about the maddest thing you ever heard of, and I've got to have at least one sane man along--as a sort of sea-anchor to tie to when the hurricane begins ripping the masts out of us, and all that." "In other words, you are out to pick up a bit of moral backing for the plot. Is that it?" "You have hit it precisely. You are to go along and hold me up to the mark, Dick. If I show any signs of weakening, you are to jab a knife into me and twist it around a few times. You are on salary, you know--if you care to have it that way." "If you say money to me again, I quit you cold, right here and now," was my answer to that. And then: "Pitch out and tell me: what is this piratical scheme that you are afraid you may not have the nerve to carry through?" The plotter sat back in his chair, regarding me through half-closed eyelids; and again I thought I caught the dark-faced foreigner two tables distant stealthily watching him. "On the face of it, it looks almost as thrilling as an old maids' tea party--and not any less conventional," Van Dyck began. "You have been around and about a good bit in the Caribbean, haven't you?" "I suppose I might be able to pilot the _Andromeda_ into most of the well-known harbors, if I had to," I boasted. "Good. But you haven't been much out of the regular steamer lanes?--or have you?" "Now and then; yes. Once, when I was trying to blow around from Carthagena to La Guaira in a coasting schooner, our old tub of a wind jammer was caught in a hurricane and piled up on a coral reef. We were Crusoes on the ghastly little island for nearly a month before a tramp steamer happened along and saw our signals." Van Dyck nodded as one who is hearing what has been heard before. "You wrote home about that adventure, as you may, or may not, remember, and the story got around to me. Afterward, I chanced to see in the shipping news the report of the captain of the tramp 'tanker' which had picked you up. Your island wasn't down on any of the charts, and Captain Svenson gave the latitude and longitude as a matter of information. Have you any idea what island it was--or is?" "No. As you may imagine, I was only too glad to see the last of it when we were taken off." "It is said to be the Lost Island of the old English plateship harriers--Sir Frankie Drake and the rest," Van Dyck went on. "There is a story that Drake once ran a Spanish treasure ship into the lagoon which encircles the island, shot it full of holes, and finally burned it after a siege lasting a couple of days. The tale adds that during the two-day fight the Spaniards had time to unload and bury some of the gold bars in the galleon's cargo. Drake tried to make his prisoners tell what they had done with the treasure--so the story goes--and when they proved obstinate he sailed away and left them to starve. At a somewhat later period the island appears in the legends as 'Pirates' Hope'--place where the black-flag rovers used to put in to refit. Nobody seems to know why it hasn't been put down on the modern charts." I closed my eyes and a cold little chill ran up and down my back. Van Dyck's yarn was probably only a figment of the story-tellers, but it brought back most vividly the memory of that despairing month I had spoken of; the dragging hours and days, the pinch of starvation, the hope deferred as we stared our eyes out sweeping the meeting line of sea and sky that never--until that last welcome day--gave back a sign of the world out of which we had been blotted. Also, the story resurrected another memory, one which had been almost forgotten with the lapse of time. There had been relics on the island; a few bits of the iron and woodwork of an ancient wreck, and a few bleached bones--human bones. Still, I had all the incredulity of one who had listened to many marvelous tales of the sea. "You can hear dozens of yarns like that about every coral island and cay in the Caribbean," I said. "I know," he agreed. "And on a pleasure voyage it helps out wonderfully if you have some one along who can tell them. How would the old Spanish Main strike you as a winter cruising ground for the good ship _Andromeda_?" It was at this point that I began to see a few rays of daylight--or thought I did. "Show me the _Andromeda's_ passenger list and I can tell better," I laughed. "Your fellow voyagers will be people you know, or used to know--the majority of them," he returned; then, with what seemed to be a curious lack of enthusiasm, he enumerated them. "I've invited the newly married Greys; the Ph.D. Sanfords; Major Terwilliger and his nephew, Jerry Dupuyster; Conetta Kincaide and her dragoness aunt, Miss Mehitable; Madeleine Barclay and her father; young Grisdale and his bull pup; and Hobart Ingerson. And last, but by no means least, Mrs. Eager Van Tromp and her three daughters." "Heavens!" I interjected. "Why didn't you include all of New York, while you were about it? Do you mean to tell me that you have all these people with you in the _Andromeda_?" "Not yet, but soon," he qualified. "They are on the way down here in my private car. I'm here to meet them, and so, by the same token, are you." "Good Lord! If you had hired a Hagenbeck to make your collection it couldn't have been more zoo-like! What under the sun were you thinking of, Teck?" "They are all people I'd like to know better," he rejoined half absently. "The 'collection,' as you so scoffingly call it, was quite carefully chosen, if you did but know it." "But Ingerson!" I protested. "I know. Ingerson is a brute, you would say; and so would I, if I were on the witness stand and obliged to testify. But in condemning him we should be in the minority, Dick. He has the _entrée_ to the best houses in New York, and half of the dowagers in that abandoned city would snap at him for a son-in-law." "That may well be. But to shut yourself up with him in a yacht party for weeks on end----" "Your point is well taken. But you will remember that I have admitted the madnesses from start to finish. The vital thing, however, is this: Will you consent to go along with us to add the saving touch of sanity? Don't turn me down, Dick," he added, and the adjuration was almost a pleading. "I'm not turning you down," I hastened to say. "I am merely asking 'why?'" Van Dyck's face was a study in moody perplexity, and he spoke slowly, almost hesitantly, when he answered my query. "I don't know that I can explain the exact 'why,' or give a logical reason, even to so good a friend as you are, Dick. The winter-cruise notion originated with Mrs. Van Tromp, I believe; and she is responsible for the inclusion of the major and his nephew. Also, she is the one who asked me to invite Ingerson. She has been playing in hard luck lately, and for the sake of her three girls, who, in her point of view, have simply _got_ to marry money, she is obliged to keep the pace. I suppose the prospect of a winter in Florida--the four of them at Palm Beach, with no chance to cut economical corners, you know--appalled her. Besides, she knows the _Andromeda_, and the _Andromeda's chef_. That goes a long way with as good a trencherwoman as she is." "That will do for a starter," I said. "Let us say that Mrs. Van Tromp and her daughters are bread-and-butter guests. But how about the others?" Van Dyck did not reply until after the deft serving man had cleared the table and brought the cigars. "The others, with the possible exception of Billy Grisdale, who is only an infant, are people with whom I should like to become better acquainted, as I have said." "Which is still purer piffle," I put in. "You've known all of them practically all your life. But go on." "I've known them, and I haven't known them," he asserted. "There are the Sanfords--the professor and his wife: they typify the older married set, and the casual onlooker would say that they try to give the impression that they are still satisfied and happy. I should like to find out if they really are satisfied and happy. Then there are the Greys; they are still in the billing and cooing stage: I'd like to see if it isn't possible for them to get too much of each other when the doors are all shut and locked and neither of them can duck out for a breath of the fresh air of solitude." "Jehu!" I muttered. "The blue-bearded old gentleman of the Old-World legend wasn't in it with you. Let's have the rest of it." Van Dyck's smile barely missed being a saturnine grin, and there was scarcely a suggestion of mirth in it. "Major Terwilliger poses as a generous, large-hearted old rounder who is eventually going to do something handsome for Jerry Dupuyster, his sister's son. Privately, I have a notion that the major's liberal fortune--which he promises to bestow upon Gerald--is largely, if not wholly, a myth, and that he is selfish enough to keep Jerry dangling as a bait to the scheming mammas--and aunts--for the social advantages and 'side' thereby accruing to Jerry's uncle." "Conetta Kincaide's aunt, for example?" I interpolated. "Yes, Aunt Mehitable, if you like. And, this being the case, I have a perfectly normal curiosity to see what will happen when the dragoness gets the major and Jerry in a clear field, with no possibility of a breakaway for them, or of interference with her dragonizing for her." "Having already used Bluebeard, I'm out of comparisons for you," I said. "What about the Barclays, father and daughter?" Van Dyck shook his head and the faintest possible shadow of a frown came and sat between his eyes. "We needn't be ill-natured on the wholesale plan," he evaded. "You wouldn't suspect a man like Holly Barclay of offering his daughter to the highest bidder, would you? Supposing we admit that he has gone through the fortune that his wife's father got together, and let it stand at that." "You are not letting it stand at that," I countered shrewdly. "No, perhaps I am not," he admitted, after a thoughtful pause. "I thought I should like to prove or disprove a thing that I have heard, about Holly Barclay--and Madeleine--and--well, you'll guess it if I don't say it--about Ingerson." "Again with the clear field and no favor, I suppose," I put in a bit savagely. Then: "Van Dyck, you ought to be shot!" He was glancing at his watch, and his smile was wry. "I shall get my little drink of hemlock before the table is cleared, never fear," he said soberly. "Any time you may think I am not getting it, you have my permission to blow the gaff; to call the others together and tell them what I've done to them. That is fair, isn't it?" I nodded, and again he relapsed into thoughtful silence. Our dinner appointment had been for a rather late hour in the evening, and by now the great dining-room was all but empty, though the small dark-faced man on our right was still dallying with the sweets and the black coffee. A heavy, intoxicating fragrance drifted across from the flowering cereus in the palm room, and the distance-mellowed strains of an orchestra playing in an alcove on the opposite side of the rotunda added another sensuous touch. The glamour of the tropics, a far-reaching breath of the beckoning mystery of shimmering seas, and coral reefs singing to the beat of the murmuring surf--the mystery whose appeal is ever and most strongly to the senses and the passions--was in the air when I said, gravely enough, I make no doubt: "I'll go with you, Bonteck; and chiefly for the reason you have just given--the reason and the permission. Let this be your fair warning: if at any time your little farce threatens to grow into a tragedy, I shall most certainly call you down." "I was rather hoping you'd say something like that," he agreed, with what appeared to be the utmost sincerity. "At the same time," I went on, "it is only fair to add that your expensive experiment will fail. Nothing will happen on the _Andromeda_ that couldn't, or wouldn't, happen in a house party at your country place in the Berkshires. You will come back as wise--or as foolish--as you are now." "Oh, well," he said, pushing his chair back and casting the napkin aside, "we needn't pull the bud in pieces to find out what kind of a flower it's going to be. I can't promise you that you will be greatly edified, and it is quite within the possibilities that you may find yourself frightfully bored. But, in any event, it will help out a little if we leave something to the imagination, don't you think?--something to speculate about and to look forward to. I know it does look rather cut-and-dried in the prospect; eight bells breakfast, luncheon when you like to have it, dinner in the second dog-watch, and cards--always cards when Mrs. Van Tromp can find a partner and a table--in the evening." He had got upon his feet and was standing before me, an acutely attractive figure of a well-built, well-groomed man in faultless evening dress. The identifying smile of other and less cynical days was drawing at the corners of his eyes when he went on. "We'll live in hopes. Perhaps we shall be able to smash the _Andromeda_ on some reef that isn't down on the charts. Failing that, there is always the chance of a stray hurricane--with the other chance of the engines breaking down at the inopportune moment. We shall find excitement of some kind; I can feel it in my bones." "Small chance on a baby Cunarder," I grumbled, rising in my turn. "Oh, I don't know," he offered, in gentle deprecation. "At any rate we can still be hopeful. Now if you are ready we'll go to the railroad station and meet the players. I told you they were on the way down from New York, but I omitted to add that they are due to arrive to-night; within fifteen or twenty minutes, to be strictly accurate. Let's gather up a few for-hire autos and go to the rescue." II THE SHIP'S COMPANY WE were on the sidewalk--"banquette," as it is called in New Orleans--in front of the hotel, and Van Dyck was marshaling a number of vehicles for a descent upon the railroad station, when a small man with his soft hat pulled well down over his eyes appeared at my elbow as silently as if he had materialized out of the rain-wet pavement. "Pardon, M'sieu'," he murmured, in the broken English which placed him, apparently, as a native of the French quarter, "ze brother of my cousin ees h-ask me to fin' out for heem w'en M'sieu' Van Dyck's steamsheep comes on N' Orlean. 'Ees h-oncle been de _chef_ h-on dat sheep, an' 'ee's want sand heem lettaire. _Oui._" Van Dyck had started his procession of cabs, and he called to me as the last of the vehicles pulled up to the curb to take us in. Almost mechanically I gave the soft-spoken and apologetic questioner his answer. "Mr. Van Dyck's yacht came up the river to-day. Tell your cousin's brother he will have to hurry his letter. The _Andromeda_ will sail either to-night or to-morrow morning, I believe." It was not until after I had joined Van Dyck in the waiting taxi, and we were sluing and skidding over the wet pavements on the way to the railroad station, that my companion said: "Didn't I see you talking to a little fellow in gray tweeds and a soft hat just before we drove away from the hotel? Do you know the man?" "No; he was a stranger to me," I returned. "He asked a question and I answered it. He is the man who sat two tables away on your right in the hotel dining-room. He said he was the cousin of a cousin of somebody who wanted to send a letter to the _Andromeda's_ cook, and he wanted to know when the yacht would arrive." "You told him the _Andromeda_ is already here?" "Yes." "That's a bit odd," was Van Dyck's comment. "What is odd?" "That this little sallow-faced fellow should turn up here in New Orleans practically at the same moment that I do. I spotted him while we were at dinner and wondered if he could be the same one." "The same one as who? And why shouldn't he be here?" I asked, rather more than mildly curious. "The same one I have seen at least twice before in the past few weeks. The first time was at our anchorage in the Hudson when he, or somebody very much like him, was the last man overside as we were leaving port a month ago. I understood then that he was a friend of some member of the _Andromeda's_ crew and had come aboard for a farewell visit." "And the second time?" "The second time was some three weeks later, and the place was Havana. There he, or again somebody exactly like him, was hanging around the water front chinning with any member of the crew who happened to have shore leave. That time he wasn't trying to mail a letter; he was trying to find out why it had apparently taken us three weeks, instead of something less than one, to make the run down from New York to Cuba." "Did he find out?" I inquired, with a little private wonderment of my own to prompt the query. "I can't say as to that," was Van Dyck's half-guarded reply. "What is puzzling me now is his--er--omnipresence, so to speak. So far as I know, we left him in Havana. How does he come to be here in New Orleans on the very day of our arrival?" "That is easy," I said; "the method, I mean--not his object. He could have come by railroad from Key West in less time than it took the _Andromeda_ to steam across the Gulf." "Of course," Van Dyck agreed, quite as if this simple explanation had not occurred to him. And then, since we had reached the station, where, upon inquiry, we found that the New York train was already in, there was time only for a hospitable dash to the platform upon which our prospective ship's company was at the moment debarking. Though I knew all of Van Dyck's guests well enough to need no introductions, the mob of them that was pouring out of the private car _Kalmia_ was overwhelming by sheer weight of numbers. "Heavens!" I said to Van Dyck as we came upon the scene, "I don't wonder that you wanted help," and therewith we plunged in to bring order out of the platform chaos of mingled humanity and hand baggage. It was after we had the human part of the chaos marching, with an army of laden red-caps, upon the line of chartered taxis, that Van Dyck thrust a sheaf of baggage checks into my hand. "Be a good fellow, Dick, and see to it that the heavy dunnage gets started for the _Andromeda's_ wharf before you leave, won't you?" he asked. "I'll go on with the crowd, and have one of the taxis wait for you--T. and P. wharf, foot of Thalia Street, you know." That was how it came about that I was left alone to wrestle with the baggage-masters and the transfer people, and after I had seen the last truck-load of steamer trunks sorted, tarpaulined, and started on its way over town, I returned to the cab rank and found my taxi awaiting me, as Van Dyck had promised. It was not until I was climbing into the covered cab that I discovered that it was already occupied. As I ducked for shelter from the rain, which was now falling smartly, a voice that I should have recognized if I had heard it on another planet said, "I hope you found my little green trunk with the others. It has all my dinner gowns in it." "Conetta!" I gasped; and then I saw what Van Dyck had done, either with malice aforethought or in sheer heedlessness. In the taxicab loading there had been an overflow of one, and Conetta Kincaide had been left behind to share the waiting vehicle with me. "You--you knew this was my cab?" I stammered, after I had accumulated wit enough to shut the door and tell the driver to go on. "Of course. Bonteck put me in and said you'd be along in a few minutes; that you'd gone to look after the baggage. How do you happen to be here with Bonteck?" "That," I evaded, "is a rather tedious story. Later on you may have it for what it is worth, if you still care to hear it. Excuse me a moment," and I leaned forward and stuck my head through the open window at the taxi-driver's ear to whisper: "Take your time, and don't bother to make any short cuts." "What was that you were saying to the man?" was the question I had to answer after I had fallen back into the seat beside the possessor of the cool voice and self-contained manner. "I was telling him he needn't hurry," I confessed brazenly. "In a few minutes you will be one of the crowd again, and there are three years to be bridged, in some fashion, in those few minutes." I felt, rather than heard, her little gasp of dismay. "Do you mean to say that--that you are going along in the _Andromeda_?" she asked faintly. "It is even so--more is the pity. I had committed myself to Bonteck, in a way, before I knew the names on his passenger list." "And if you had known, you would have refused?" "I don't know. Most likely I should; and not altogether out of consideration for you. You see, I am quite frank." "You are; most refreshingly frank. One might have hoped that time, and--and----" ----"And absence and new fields and faces, and all that, would make me forget," I finished for her. "Unhappily, they haven't. But that is neither here nor there. Though I have kept pretty well out of the civilized world for the past three years, there has been a word now and then from home. Tell me plainly, Connie--how much does Jerry Dupuyster know?" "He knows that three years ago we were engaged to be married, you and I." The cool voice trembled a little, but it was still well under control. "That is better," I commented with a sigh of relief; and it was better because, if Jerry hadn't known, there would have been chances for hideous complications on the proposed cruise of the _Andromeda_, or at least, in some inchoate way, I felt there would. "Does Jerry know why it was broken off?" I went on. "He thinks he does." "Which is to say that he accepts your Aunt Mehitable's version of it; the one she published broadcast among our friends--that, without any cause assigned, we simply agreed to disagree?" "I suppose so." Silence for a square or so, broken only by the drumming of the taxi's motor. Then I took the bull by the horns. "Shall I tell Bonteck that, for reasons which I don't care to explain, I shall have to drop out of this badly mixed ship's company of his?" The cool voice had fully regained its even tones when she said: "Why should you?" "There is no 'why' unless you care to interpose one of your own making. But I should think, with Jerry Dupuyster along----" "The _Andromeda_ is a reasonably roomy little ship," was the calm retort. "And, besides, there are enough of us to afford protection--the protection of a crowd. If you have promised Bonteck, you can hardly break with him at the last moment, can you?" "You don't care, then?" "Why should I care? What is done is done, and can't be helped. Aunt Mehitable thinks I ought to marry; I suppose she thinks I owe it to her to marry and set up an establishment of my own. Perhaps I do owe it to her. I've been a charge upon her generosity all my life." "So you are going to marry Jerry Dupuyster, a lisping club-lizard who apes the English so hard that he forgets that he has a string of American ancestors as long as your arm?" I flamed out. "Well, if I am, what is it to you, Dick Preble? Or to any one else besides Jerry and me? Also, I might ask what right I have given you to put me upon the rack?" "None; none whatever," I admitted gloomily. "Still, I have a right, of a sort--the right of the first man. You seem conveniently and successfully to have forgotten. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to forget, though I have tried all of the customary antidotes." "Other women?" she asked, with the faintest possible touch of malice. I was resentful enough to meet her baldly upon her own ground. "There was a young woman in Venezuela; a pure Castilian, with the blood of kings in her veins. I could have married her." "Why didn't you?" she asked sweetly. "I have wished many times that I had. I wonder if you can understand if I say that I was afraid?" "Mr. Kipling says that we can't understand--that we can never understand. But I think I know what you mean. You may have been Adam--the first man, again--for her; but she wasn't, and never could be, Eve--the first woman--for you. Was that it?" The taxi was finally approaching the quarter of the city in which our wharf lay. There were other things to be said, and they had to be said hurriedly. "Let us get things straightened out--before the crowd messes in," I said. "Three years ago we were engaged to be married. One day I was obliged to tell your Aunt Mehitable that the comfortable fortune my father had left me had been swallowed up in an exhausted Colorado gold mine, and that I'd have to go to work for a living. She then told me--with what seemed to me to be unnecessary spitefulness--that her will was made in favor of some charitable institution, and since you would thus be left penniless, it was up to me to set you free and give you a chance to marry somebody who could provide for you. Am I stating it clearly?" "Clearly enough." "Then she went on to say that the news of my misfortune had preceded me; that you had already been told all there was to tell; and that it would be a kindness to you if I should agree not to see you again." "And you did me the kindness," she put in calmly. "I ought to be thankful for that. Perhaps I am thankful." "I was furious," I confessed. "If you will permit me to say it this long after the fact, your aunt carries a vicious tongue in her head, and she didn't spare me. Also, I'll admit that my own temper isn't exactly patient or forgiving. It was the next morning that I had the chance to go to South America thrust at me, and the ship was sailing at noon. I left a letter for you and disappeared over the horizon." "Yes," she replied in the same even tone; "I got the letter." "That brings us down to date," I went on, as the taxi drew up at the wharf. "The next thing is the _modus vivendi_--the way we must live for the next few weeks. You say that Jerry knows that we were once engaged. If he is half a man, there will be plenty of chances for misunderstanding and trouble. We must agree to be decently quarrelsome." "You have begun it beautifully," she said, with a hard little laugh. "Admitting your premises, what will Jerry think of this taxi drive--without a chaperon?" "Jerry will never know that you came over with me--unless you tell him." "Aunt Mehitable can tell him," she retorted, again with the touch of malice in her voice. "But, for the sake of Major Terwilliger's money, she won't tell him," I ventured drily; and a moment later I was handing her up the _Andromeda's_ accommodation ladder with a sharper misery in my heart than I had suffered since the night three years in the past when her dragoness aunt had goaded me into effacing myself. There was a pleasant bustle of impending departure already going on aboard the yacht when we reached the deck. Most of the women--all of them, in fact, save the youngest of the Van Tromp trio and Annette Grey--had gone to their several staterooms, and the men were scattered--"dotted" was Conetta's word--here and there, apparently trying to find themselves, like so many cats in a strange garret. "You will go below?" I said to Conetta when I had shown her the way aft. "Yes; and by myself, if you please." Then, with a quick turn of the proud little head, and a look in the slate-blue eyes that was far beyond any man's fathoming: "Good-night, Dick, and good-by. Perhaps our quarrel would better begin right here and now." And with that she was gone. It was possibly five minutes later that I met Grey, the newly married, roving in search of his mate. "Annette?" he queried. "Have you seen her anywhere, Preble?" "She is with Edie Van Tromp on the bridge," I told him. Then I linked an arm in his and drew him to the shoreward rail, saying: "Don't rush off. Throw that vile cigar away and light a fresh one, and tell me how the New York law partnership is getting along. Remember, there are some weeks ahead of you in which you won't be able to get any farther away from Annette than the length of the _Andromeda_--no matter how badly you may want to." The married lover twisted his arm out of mine and dropped the stub of his cigar over the rail. "Preble, you're a brute," he remarked, quite conversationally. And then he added: "By Jove, don't you know, I wouldn't be a bachelor again for the shiniest million that was ever minted! I didn't realize, until within the last few weeks, what a crabbed, dog-in-the-manger beggar it would make of a man." "Thanks," I laughed. "Experience counts for something, even if it is short and pretty recent, as you might say. Where is the major?" Grey clipped the end of the fresh cigar I had given him and lighted it. He was sparing me a few moments merely to show me that it was possible for him to stay that long out of sight and sound of the loved one. "The major is in a class by himself, as you ought to know if you've preserved any fragment of memory, Preble. He is down in the yacht's smoking-room, hobnobbing with a glass of hot brandy and soda, and finishing a novel that he has been reading all the way down from Chattanooga. Think of it--hot toddy in this weather!" "A veteran--even a Spanish War Veteran--has to do something to individualize himself," I jested; and then Grey took his turn at me. "You are a veteran yourself, Richard--of a sort. They tell me you have been knocking around here in the tropics so long that you've forgotten all the little decent and civilized ameliorations. Why don't you marry and settle down?" I laughed. "Go up yonder on the bridge and ask Annette why some men marry and some don't; she'll tell you," I said; and he promptly took me at my word, at least so far as leaving me was concerned. A short time after this, just after I had identified the two smokers in the wicker lounging chairs under the afterdeck awning as Ingerson and Madeleine Barclay's father, the last truck-load of trunks came. While the baggage was going into the _Andromeda's_ forehold, Dupuyster, looking more English than any Briton to the manner born, came lounging aft and greeted me chirpingly. "'Lo, old chappie; dashed glad to know you're comin' along, what? Bonty was just tellin' me he'd scragged you for the voyage. Topping, I'll say." "Topping, if you say so, Jerry. How long have you been over?" "Eh, what?--how long have I been over? I say, old dear--that's a jolly good one, y' know. But tell me; where is this bally old tub of Bonty's goin' to sail for? Bonty won't tell us. He's as mysterious about it as--as----" Realizing that he was feeling around in his ultra-British vocabulary for a fitting Anglo-maniacal simile, I helped him out. "As a bag of tricks, let us say. I don't know, any more than you do, Jerry. Summer seas in midwinter, and all that, I suppose. What do we care?" "Haw! dashed little, so long as the _Andromeda's_ well found in the provision lockers: eh? what? And Bonty will have seen to that." Then: "I've been lookin' about a bit for Conetta. Did she come aboard with you?" I nodded. "She has gone to her stateroom, I believe." The young man whose chief end in life seemed to be to out-English the English lighted a cigarette and lounged on farther aft. I followed the movements of his white-flanneled figure with the gaze speculative. Quite as truly as in the case of Bonteck Van Dyck--though in a vastly different manner--here was a "perfectly good cat, spoiled." I had known Jerry Dupuyster quite intimately in the university days; known him for a lovable fellow with rather more, than less, than his fair allowance of brains and ability. But something, either the bait of the major's hypothetical fortune, or too much idleness--or both--had turned him into ... the speculative train paused. I didn't know what the compelling influences had turned Jerry Dupuyster into, but whatever it might be, it seemed too trivial to warrant the effort needful to try to define it. Sauntering forward on the starboard promenade I saw that Grey had joined his wife and Edie Van Tromp on the bridge, and that Van Dyck and a lean, hatchet-faced man whom I took to be the yacht's sailing-master, were with them. While I looked on, Goff, the sailing-master, came down to the rail to direct the stowing of the last load of luggage through the open port below. Like some other things in this Caribbean cruise entourage, this man Goff was a new wrinkle, and a rather astounding one. Hitherto--at least in my knowing of them--the _Andromeda's_ skippers had been of the Atlantic-liner class, spick and span martinets in natty uniform, with fine, quarter-deck manners, and maintaining a discipline comparable only to that of the Navy. But Goff was at the other end of the gamut of extremes; a gaunt, hard-bitted old Yankee fishing-smack captain, if appearances counted for anything; hungry-looking, lank and weather-beaten, with a harsh voice and a bad eye. And to emphasize the oddities, the sailormen he was directing seemed to be all foreigners; another sea change sharply opposed to Van Dyck's former notions about manning his yacht. As it appeared, there was to be no loss of time in the outsetting. While the trunks were still tumbling into the hold baggage-room, a subdued clamor came up from the fire hold, and the yacht's twin funnels began to echo to the roar of the stirred fires. A minute later the lower-river pilot, a hairy-faced giant who might have taken the heavy villain's part in comic opera, climbed aboard. With a bare nod to the sailing-master, the giant ascended to the bridge, and almost immediately the yacht's searchlight blazed out, the order to cast off was given, and the trim white hull, shuddering to the thrust of its propellers, edged away into the brown flood of the Mississippi, and made a majestic half-circle in midstream to pass the lights of the city in review as it was headed for the Gulf. Dodging the pair of smokers under the after-deck awning, I went around to the port promenade, where I stumbled upon Billy Grisdale sitting alone with his bull pup between his knees. "Hello, Prebby," he said, much as if it had been only three days instead of as many years since he had come down to the East River pier, a fresh-faced prep. school-boy, to see me off for the tropics. "Come over here and sit down and give me a smoke." And when I had done all three: "Rum old go, isn't it? If I wasn't such an ass about carrying a tune, I'd be warbling 'My native land, good-night.' Got your life insured?" "I'm an orphan and a bachelor; why should I carry insurance, Billy?" I said, laughing at his doleful humor. "I don't know. Guess I've got a bad case of the hyps. Can't think of anything but that bloody-bones jingle of Stevenson's: 'Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!' Teck Van Dyck's a pirate. He's gone daffy over something, and we're all going to heaven in a hand-basket." Of course this was all froth; pure froth. But there was usually a little clear liquor in the bottom of Billy's stein. "What ails you?" I asked. An impish grin spread itself over his smooth, boyish face. "I'm in love, if anybody should ask you. Everything looks green to me, and I want to chew slate-pencils. _Ergo_--which is college slang for 'Ah, there, stay there'--I'm as daffy as Teck. Don't laugh or I'll set Tige on you. Say, Prebby, do I look like an invalid?" "Yes; about as much as Mr. John Sullivan did when he carried the world heavy-weight wallop in his good right hand." "Yet I am an invalid. Doc Fanning says I am, and he's like George Washington. He might lie if he could, but he can't because he's lost the combination." "What on earth are you gibbering about, Billy?" "Facts; iron-clad, brass-bound, blown-in-the-bottle, sold-only-in-the-original-package facts. Fanning's the family physician, you know, and he has gone on record as declaring that I need half a winter off in a mild climate. And I don't know to this good minute whether I succeeded in fooling him, or whether he was just plain good-natured enough to size the thing up and fool the governor--I don't, really, Prebby." "But why?" I persisted. "The 'why' is a girl, of course; you ought to know that without being told. She's a lulu and a charmer, and if I can't marry her I'll end it all with a bare bodkin. Her name? I'm going to tell you, Prebby; and, again, if you laugh, I'll make Tige bite you. It's Edith." "Not Edie Van Tromp!" "Prebby, you're the one only and original wizard. You could make your fortune if you should set up as a guesser." "Ye gods and little children!" I commented. "Edie Van Tromp is eighteen, if I remember correctly; and you are----" "I was twenty a few days ago, if you don't mind," he returned, tickling the cropped ears of the bull pup. And then: "'Crazy,' you say? Maybe so--quite likely so. I've got to keep the pace, you know. This little ship's full of crazy people. I'm crazy about Edie, and, if you listen to what you hear, Jerry Dupuyster's crazy about Conetta Kincaide--just like you used to be--and Jack Grey's crazy about his Annette, and Ingerson and Teck are both crazy about Madeleine Barclay. So there you are. And if the wind gets around into the sour east, Teck's going to sink the ship in the deep-blue Caribbean, and drown us all--all but Madeleine--and live happily ever after. Apropos of nothing at all, Prebby, this is a rotten cigar you gave me, and I'm all mussed up and discouraged. What's that bell clanging about?" "It is striking five bells in the first night watch--otherwise, or landsman-wise, half-past ten o'clock." "Good!--excellent good. Let's turn in, so we can turn out bright and early for our first shot at the blue water. What do you say?" I said the required word, and we went below to our respective staterooms. The next morning when I turned out and drew aside the curtain shading the stateroom port light, the sun was shining brightly, and for a horizon there were only the tumbling wavelets of the Gulf of Mexico. III THE MAJOR--AND OTHERS THE first morning in blue water developed the fact that breakfast on the _Andromeda_ was destined to be a broken meal. In the white-lacquered dining-saloon, only three members of the ship's company, Major Terwilliger, Madeleine Barclay's father, and Professor Sanford were at table, though Van Dyck and Billy Grisdale had been still earlier, had already breakfasted and had gone on deck. As I took my place, the major, affecting the bluff heartiness which was merely a mask for an ease-loving, self-centered habit which never for a moment lost sight of the creature comforts, was trying, quite ineffectually, to draw Sanford into a discussion of the merits and demerits of certain French liqueurs--a subject upon which the clean-living, abstemious professor of mathematics was as poorly informed as any anchorite of the desert. "Vermuth, now; a dash of vermuth in your morning bitters," the major expatiated; "there's nothing like it for an appetiser. I'm not saying anything against the modern cocktail, properly compounded; it has its place. But for a morning eye-opener it is crude. Believe me, a Frenchman knows the meaning of the word _apéritif_ much better than we do." "Yes?" said the professor, with a palpable effort to galvanize an interest which he was evidently far from feeling. "Quite so," declared the major; after which he proceeded to enlarge upon American backwardness in the matter of picking and choosing among the potables, inveighing with all the warmth of a past master in the art of good living against the barbarism of taking one's liquor raw. While the major was giving his alcoholic homily, and not omitting, meanwhile, to keep his plate well supplied with the crispest bits of bacon and the hottest of the rolls, I had an opportunity to observe the silent man whose place was opposite my own. Holly Barclay had changed greatly in the three years which had elapsed since I had last seen him in New York. I never knew--I do not yet know--what particular form his dissipation took, but it had left its indubitable record in the haggard face, the deep-sunken eyes, and in the womanish hands which trembled a bit in spite of an evident effort to hold them steady. Fragmentary gossip of former days had said that Holly Barclay's bane was women; other whispers had it that it was the gaming table; still others that it was the larger gaming table of the Street. Whatever it was, it had apparently left him a rather ghastly wreck of a man; a prey, not to remorse, perhaps, but certainly to fear. And with the fear in the deep-set eyes there was a hint of childish petulance; the irritable humor of a man who has fought a losing battle with life and expects to be waited upon and coddled as a reward for his defeat and humiliation. It was a relief to turn from this haggard wreck, and from the sham-hearty major, to the mild-eyed professor. Sanford I had known in the university, and a less self-conscious or more lovable man never lived. Deeply immersed in the natural sciences, which were his hobby, and absent-minded at times to a degree that put to shame the best efforts of the college-professor-joke makers, he was nevertheless the most human of men; a faculty member whose door was always hospitably open to the homesick Freshman, and whose influence for good in the lush field of the college campus was second only to that of his plain-featured, motherly wife. "Ah, yes," he was saying, in answer to the major's eulogy of chartreuse as a cordial, "it is said to be a distillation from the leaves of _Urtica pilulifera_, the much-abused nettle, I believe. Those old Alpine monks had a wonderful knowledge of the scanty flora of the high altitudes where they built their monasteries. Which reminds me: I hope Bonteck will give us an opportunity to study some of the remarkable plant forms peculiar to the tropics before we return. It would be most enlightening to a stay-at-home like myself." The major's facial expression was that of a person who has been basely betrayed into casting pearls before swine. That any one could be so benighted as to associate a divine cordial only with the crude materials out of which it might be made was quite beyond his powers of comprehension. "Hum," he muttered, "I've always understood that the process of chartreuse-making was a secret that was most jealously guarded." And with that he let the pearl casting stop abruptly. Here was a striking example, one would say, of the ill-assortment of our mixed ship's company manifesting itself at the introductory breakfast at sea. Throughout the meal Barclay said nothing to any of us. His few remarks were addressed to the serving steward, and they were all in the nature of complaints. His coffee was too weak, the bacon was too crisp, the cold meats were underdone. What with the gourmet appetite of the major, and Barclay's apparent lack of any appetite at all, the broken meal was anything but a feast of reason and a flow of soul, and I was glad to break away to the freedom of the decks. Finding the after-deck untenanted, I strolled forward. The _Andromeda_ was loafing along over a sea as calm as a mill-pond, and her course, as nearly as I could guess it from the position of the sun, was a little to the east of south. Van Dyck and Billy Grisdale were on the bridge, and one of the foreign-looking sailormen had the wheel. On the main-deck forward three members of the crew were swabbing down, and two others were polishing brass. As I paused at the rail in the shadow of the bridge overhang, Goff, the sailing-master, came stumping along. Though no one had as yet told me that he was a Gloucesterman, I took a shot at it. "This is not much like cracking on with a schooner for the Banks, is it, Captain?" was the form the shot took; and the grizzled veteran of the sea stopped and looked me over with an eye militantly appraisive. "What you know about the Banks?" he inquired hostilely. "Little enough," I admitted. "One trip, made when I was a boy, in the schooner _Maria Ann_, of Gloucester, Captain Standifer." "I want to know!" he said, thawing perceptibly. "Old _Maria Ann's_ afloat yit, but Standifer's gone; run down in a dory in a fog." Then, lowering his voice: "You don't belong to this New York clanjamfry, do ye?" "Not strictly speaking; I signed on in New Orleans." "Know these waters putty middlin' well?" "I've sailed them a few times." "Friend o' Cap'n Van Dyck's, I cal'late?" "As good a friend as he has on earth, I hope." At this the old sea dog thrust an arm in mine and led me aft until we were out of earshot from the bridge. "What d' ye know about this here winter cruise?" He fired the question at me belligerently. "About its course and destination? Little or much, as you choose to put it. What should I know?" He paid no attention to my question. "Cap'n Van Dyck's all right, only he's too dum hardheaded," he confided. "Picked up his 'tween-decks lackeys in New York an' Havana. Don't like the looks o' some on 'em. If you're a friend of the Cap'n's, you keep a weather eye on that slick lookin' yaller boy that waits on table in the dinin'-saloon." "How am I to keep an eye on him?" I asked. "When you're eatin' with the folks, you keep 'em from talkin' about things that yaller boy hadn't ought to hear," he bit out, and with that he left me. Here was a little mystery on our first day at sea. What was it, in particular, that the mulatto serving boy shouldn't hear? My mind went back to the talk of the previous evening, across the table in the dining-room of the New Orleans hotel. Now that I came to analyze it, I realized that it had been only cursorily explanatory on Van Dyck's part. While he seemed at the time to be perfectly frank with me, it occurred to me now that I had all along been conscious of certain reservations. A winter cruise in the Caribbean; for the ship's company a gathering of people whom he had threatened to know better before the cruise ended; these were about the only definite objects he had set forth. But two things were pretty plainly evident. Goff was deeper in Van Dyck's confidence than I was; and, beyond this, the sailing-master was making the mistake of thinking that I knew as much as he did. It was no great matter, I thought. If the mulatto under-steward needed watching, I'd watch him, trusting to the future to reveal the reason--if any there were--why he should be watched. Making my way to the awning-sheltered after-deck lounge, which was still untenanted, I picked out the easiest of the wicker chairs and sat down to fill my pipe for an after-breakfast smoke. Before the pipe had burned out, Ingerson put in his appearance, lighting a black cigar as he came up the cabin stair. If I had been free to select, he was the last man in our curious assortment whom I should have chosen as a tobacco companion, but short of a pointed retreat to some other part of the ship, there was no escape. "Hello, Preble," he grunted, casting his gross body into a chair. "Monopolizing the view, are you? Seen anything of Madeleine?" "Miss Barclay hadn't appeared when I breakfasted," I returned; and if I bore down a bit hard on the courtesy prefix it was because I hated to hear Madeleine's Christian name come so glibly off his tongue. "How many days of this are we in for?" was his next attempt. "That, I suppose, will be left to the wishes of the ship's company." "All right," he grinned; "I guess I can stand it as long as Van Dyck can." I stole a glance aside at his heavy featured, half-bestial face. It was the face of a man prematurely aged, or aging, by the simple process of giving free rein to his passions and appetites. Though he couldn't have been more than thirty-two or three, the telltale pouches were already forming under the bibulous eyes. Though I suppose he was fresh from his morning bath, I fancied I could detect the aroma of many and prolonged midnight carousals about him. Van Dyck's intimation that there was even a possibility of Madeleine Barclay's throwing herself away upon this gross piece of flesh came back to me with a tingling shock of repugnance. Surely she would never do such a thing of her own free will. We had been sitting in uncomradely silence for maybe five minutes when Mrs. Van Tromp, mother of marriageable, and as yet unmarried, daughters came waddling aft to join us. How far she might go in letting Ingerson's wealth atone for his many sins, I neither knew nor cared, but that the wealth had its due and proper weight with her was proved by the alacrity with which she relieved me of the necessity of taking any part in a three-cornered talk. So, when I got up to empty my pipe ashes over the rail, I kept on going, quite willingly abandoning the field to inherited money and its avid worshiper. With such an unfruitful beginning, one might predicate an introductory day little less than stupefying. But later on there were ameliorations. After luncheon, which, like the breakfast, was a straggling meal with only three or four of us at table at the same time, I found myself lounging on the port promenade with Beatrice, the middle member of the Van Tromp trio, a fair-haired, self-contained young woman with a slant toward bookish things which set her well apart from her athletic older sister and tomboyish younger. "'Westward Ho!'?" I said, glancing at the title of the book lying in her lap. "Yes; I've been trying to get the atmosphere. But Kingsley takes too much time with his introductions. Whereabouts are we now?" I marked the slow rise and fall of the ship as it swung along making its leisurely southing. As in the early morning, the _Andromeda_ was logging only loafing speed. "We are still a long way from the scene of Sir Francis Drake's more or less piratical exploits," I told her. "Do you take Kingsley at his face value?" "He calls it war, but it seems to me more like legalized buccaneering," she rejoined. Then: "How much of it do you suppose is true?" I laughed. "Have you already learned to distrust history, at your tender age?" I mocked. "Isn't it all set down in the books?" She turned large and disparaging eyes upon me. "Of course you know well enough that all history is distorted; especially war history where the victors are the only source of information. The other people can't tell their side of it." "True enough," I admitted. "I fancy old Sir Francis was a good bit more than half a pirate, if all the facts were known. That story about his burning of the Spanish galleon at Pirates' Hope, for example." "I haven't heard it. Tell it to me," she urged. I gave her the story as Van Dyck had given it to me, omitting--for no good reason that I could have offered--all mention of my own unnerving experiences on the island of the legend. "Left those poor wretches to starve because they wouldn't buy their lives off him?" she commented, with a belated horror in her voice. "It is only a legend, you must remember," I hastened to say. "Most likely there isn't a word of truth in it." Her gaze was upon the distant merging line of sea and sky, and there was a dreamy look in her eyes. "I should like to see that island," she said. "I wonder if we shall go anywhere near it?" If I smiled it was only at the hold the ancient tale had apparently taken upon her. "Bonteck will doubtless make it a port of call, if you ask him to. But it is hundreds of miles from here." "What does it look like?" "Very much like any or all of the coral islands you may have seen pictured in your school geographies, only it is long and narrow instead of being circular, like the Pacific atolls. But it is a true coral island, for all that; a strip of land possibly a quarter of a mile wide and a mile long, densely wooded--jungled, you might say--with tropical vegetation; a beach of white sand running all the way around; beyond the beach, a lagoon; and enclosing the lagoon, and with only a few passages through it here and there, the usual coral reef. The lagoon is shallow for the greater part of it, but outside of the reef the bottom goes down like the side of a mountain." "Why, you must have seen the island!" she said. "I have," I answered, rather grimly. "Did you land on it when you were there?--but of course you must have, to be able to describe it so well." "Oh, yes; I landed upon it," I admitted. Again she let her gaze go adrift to leeward. She was evidently reveling in something that seemed to her more tangible than Kingsley's famous story of Amyas Leigh and his voyagings. "You say it is called Pirates' Hope. Was that on account of Sir Francis Drake's battle with the Spanish galleon?" "Oh, no; I imagine it got its name at a much later date; in the time of the bold buccaneers. There are two little bays, one on the north and another on the south. Either would be a good place in which to careen the little cockleshell ships of our ancestors and scrape their bottoms. Possibly Morgan or some of the others put in there for that purpose and thus gave the island its name." "Did you find any relics when you were there?" It didn't seem necessary to tell this open-minded young woman about the bones, so I turned her question aside. "The last of the buccaneers was permanently hanged some time in the closing decade of the seventeenth century, if I remember rightly. You'd scarcely expect to find any traces of them or their works now." "No; that's so," she conceded. Into the pause that followed I thrust a query of my own. "Where has Conetta been keeping herself all day?" "She is with her aunt. It seems that Miss Gilmore isn't a very good sailor." I laughed because I couldn't help it. If the dragoness was upset by the easy swinging of the _Andromeda_ over a sea that was more like a gently undulating mirror than anything else, what would happen to her if we should encounter a gale, or even half a gale? "You needn't laugh," Beatrice put in reproachfully. "There is nothing funny about seasickness." "I was laughing at the idea of anybody's being seasick in weather like the present," I explained. "But I fancy it is the old story in the case of Miss Mehitable. If she had nothing worse than a toothache, Conetta would have to play the part of a nurse." "My-oh!" said my pretty lounging-companion; "it is perfectly easy to see that there is no love lost between you and Miss Mehitable." "There isn't," I replied shortly; and there that matter rested. Still later in the day--just at sunset, to be strictly accurate as to the time--there was another compensation for a day which had been hanging rather heavily on my hands. I had gone alone into the yacht's fore-peak, and was wondering if I should have time to smoke another pipe before the dinner call should sound, when a mocking voice behind me said: "Isn't it about time we were quarreling some more?" I went on filling my pipe without looking around. "You've been careful not to give me an earlier chance," I said. "How is your Aunt Mehitable by this time?" "She is able to sit up and take a bit of nourishment." Then: "How you do hate poor Aunt Mehitable, don't you?" "As I see it, I haven't any particularly good reason to squander any part of my scanty store of affection upon her. Did she know I was going to make one of this mixed-up ship's-quota?" "Honestly, I don't think she did. She said a tremendous lot of things last night when she saw you with Bonteck. Aren't you going to be decent to her?" "She is Bonteck's guest, or one of them, and I'm another. South America and the tropics haven't sacked me of quite all of the conventionalities." "How nice! Of course, we've all been supposing they had. When are you going to tell me some more about the Castilian princess? the one you could have married, and didn't--to your later sorrow." Strange as it may seem, all this light-hearted mockery cut into me much more deeply than any real bitterness could have. Because, let me explain, it was precisely the attitude she used to hold toward me in the old days when the mockeries were only so many love taps, as one might say; a sort of joyous letting down, or keying up, for her, after a day-long immurement with a crotchety, sharp-tongued maiden aunt. "I've told you all there is to tell," I said, as gruffly as I could. "Oh, dear, no; I'm sure you haven't. Was she--is she--very beautiful? But of course she must be; luminous dark eyes burning with--er--with all sorts of things; midnight hair; an olive skin so clear and transparent that you can almost see through it; little aristocratic hands--blue-blooded hands; and a figure ... tell me, is she large and queenly? or petite and child-like?" I laughed derisively. "You seem to have forgotten that not all Spaniards are black. There are some among them as fair as you are. The 'princess,' as you call her, has hair about the color of yours, and her eyes are blue, even bluer than yours. But I don't see what interest you can have in her. I didn't marry her." "But you may go back there--wherever it is--and correct that dreadful mistake." "In that case I should first be obliged to murder her present husband. Perhaps I omitted to tell you last night that she was very successfully married to a wealthy young coffee planter, just before I left Trujillo." "Well, you wouldn't let a little thing like that stop you if you wanted to go back, would you?" "Oh, no; certainly not. Don Jesus Maria Diego de Traviano would probably do the stopping act--with a soft-nosed bullet. He is a crack shot with a Mauser, as I happen to know." "Poor you!" she murmured. Then, with the lightning-like change of front which had been one of her chief attractions--for me--in the old days: "Why don't you quarrel?--say something that I'll have to get mad and bitter at?" I turned to face her and the sheer beauty of her shook me. Yet I did contrive to strike back, after a fashion. "The voyage is yet young. There will doubtless be many quarrelsome occasions. Just now I don't think of anything more vital than this: if you are meaning to keep Jerry Dupuyster in hand, you are going the wrong way about it. If you seem to prefer my company to his, I have an idea that he would be just Quixotic enough to let you have your own way." "Thanks, awfully," she laughed, but behind the laugh the slate-blue eyes were saying things out of a very different vocabulary. "That will do very nicely for a beginning. I suppose I shall have to give Jerry a few lessons in the proper reactions. Isn't that the tinkle-tinkle of the dinner gong?" It was; and a few minutes later our ship's company, lacking only Miss Mehitable, who was still confined to her stateroom, gathered for the first time as a whole around the long table in the dining-saloon of the _Andromeda_. And in the seating I took blessed good care to have Beatrice Van Tromp on my left and motherly Mrs. Sanford for a bulwark on my right. IV THE LOG OF THE ANDROMEDA DURING the first few days of our southward voyaging the routine on board fell easily into the rut predicted by Van Dyck in the talk across the dinner-table in the New Orleans hotel; three meals a day, a good bit of more or less listless lounging under the awnings between times, and rather half-hearted battles with the cards in the evenings. Day after day we had the same cloudless skies, and the same gentle breeze quartering over the port bow; and each morning there was apparently the same school of porpoises tumbling in the swell under the yacht's forefoot. Marking the course, I saw little change in it from day to day. We were still steering either south or a few points east of south, and if Van Dyck had any intention of touching at any of the Central American ports, the telltale compass in the ceiling of the dining-saloon did not indicate it. Of the growth of Bonteck's cynical scheme of human analysis there were as yet no signs visible to the casual bystander. Mrs. Eager Van Tromp and Conetta's dragoness aunt sat in the shade of the after-deck awning, reading novels, and fanning themselves in moments when the breeze failed; and the Van Tromp trio, sometimes with Conetta and Madeleine Barclay, and always with Billy Grisdale and his bull pup, when they were not pointedly driven away, roamed the ship from bow to stern, and from bridge to engine-room. The Greys, prolonging their honeymoon, hid themselves in out-of-the way corners like a pair of lovers; and the Sanfords, serenely enjoying their first real vacation, could be stumbled upon now and then--so Billy Grisdale averred--holding hands quite like the younger pair. As for the men, candor compels the admission that the deadly blight of _ennui_ seemed to be slowly settling down upon at least four of us. Van Dyck, though scrupulously careful of his responsibilities as host, was anything but good company when he was off duty. The major and Holly Barclay, with Ingerson and anybody who could be dragooned into taking a fourth hand, played cards hours on end in the yacht's smoking-room; for nominal stakes, John Grey hinted, when neither Ingerson nor Van Dyck was sitting in, but with the sky for the limit when either of the two really rich men was present and betting. The second time Grey mentioned this I thought it might be well to dig a little deeper. "You are Bonteck's guest, Jack, and so am I," I said bluntly. "Are you making charges?" "Not me," returned the married lover, with a lapse into prematrimonial carelessness of speech. And then, after a reflective moment, "But for that matter, I don't have to make them, Preble. Everybody buys wisdom of the major now and then over the card table. It has come to be a proverb, back home. For a supposedly rich man he plays a mighty thrifty game--and that remark is not original with me, not by a long shot." "Possibly the major is saving his money for Gerald," I suggested, more to see what Grey would say than for any other reason. Grey's slow wink was more expressive than many words. "That worn-out joke doesn't fool you any more than it does me," he asserted baldly. "You've never seen Major Terwilliger in his great and unapproachable act of coupon-clipping, have you?" I was obliged to admit that I had not. "Well, neither has anyone else, I venture to say. He is a shrewd, shifty old rounder, Preble; no more and no less. And there are men in New York who will tell you that he sails pretty close to the wind a good bit of the time--that he has to to save his face. It's a nasty thing to say, but I more than half believe he is playing Gerald up to Conetta for purely fiduciary reasons." "But Conetta has no money," I protested. "No; but Aunt Mehitable has--a barrel of it. And it will come to Conetta, sooner or later--always provided Conetta marries to please Aunt Mehitable." Now this statement was not exactly in accordance with the facts, as I knew them, or thought I knew them, and I said so. "Miss Mehitable's will is already made, and I happen to know that her money will not go to Conetta. It will be divided among a number of charitable institutions." We were on the starboard promenade forward, and Grey looked around as if to make sure there were no overhearers. "I'm going to breach a professional confidence and tell you something, Preble, taking it for granted that it will go no farther. One day about three years ago, while I was reading for my Bar examinations in the office of Maxim, Townsend and Maxim, Miss Mehitable did make just such a will as you mention; I know it because I made the transcript of it. That will was left in the office safe, and something like a week later she came back, asked for it, got it, and destroyed it. Then she had Townsend draw another--which I also copied. That one, so far as I know, is still in existence and unchanged. It leaves a few bequests to the charity folk, and the bulk of the property to Conetta." If Grey had drawn off and hit me in the face I could scarcely have been more dumfounded. For some inscrutable--and wicked--reason of her own, Aunt Mehitable had wanted to break our engagement, Conetta's and mine, and the loss of my patrimony had given her an easy half of the means. Upon hearing of my loss she had quickly supplied the other half by making the will which she didn't mean to let stand--which she had promptly destroyed as soon as I had been safely eliminated. The grim irony of her expedient might have been amusing if I hadn't been so angry. She might easily have lied to me about the disposition of her property, but that would have been against her principles. To quiet what she was probably calling her conscience, she had actually made the will with which she had clubbed me to death; a will which she fully intended to revoke, and did revoke--after I was out of the way. How much or how little Grey suspected the turmoil he had stirred up in me by his breach of office confidence I do not know, but he was good enough to give me a chance to get back to normal, searching his pockets for a cigar, and, when he had found one, turning his back to me--and the breeze--while he lighted it. "Do you think Miss Gilmore believes in the major's coupon clipping?" I asked, after I had contrived to swallow the shock he had given me. Again he let me see the slow wink. "That is the farcical part of it. For a sharp-eyed, keen-witted maiden lady who has made a good bit of real money buying and selling in the Street, it is little less than wonderful. But it's a fact, Preble; she _does_ believe in it. She lets the major write himself off at his own valuation, and never dreams of asking to see a certified check. She seems to regard Jerry Dupuyster as one of the few really desirable matrimonial propositions on the market. That is why she is here--with Conetta." This last assertion of Grey's told me nothing that I had not already set down as an obvious fact, but his gossipy talk afforded a luminous commentary upon the manner in which an isolated group of human beings will secrete all sorts of small uncharities, if the isolation be only complete enough. These little incidents to the contrary notwithstanding, however, I could not see that Van Dyck was making much progress in his unmasking experiment. Up to this time, and outwardly, at least, we were still only a party of winter loiterers, pleasurers, decently grateful to our host and decently and conventionally well-behaved. If there were any plots or conspiracies of the money-hunting sort in the air, they were not suffered to become unpleasantly obtrusive. But for one member of the party I was conscious of a great and growing contempt. In former days we of the younger set had known Holly Barclay as a sort of reincarnation of the Beau Brummell type; an idler of the clubs who lived upon his wife's money, and who was much too indolent to be even manfully vicious. Good-looking, in a way, self-centered, and even more finically careful for the creature comforts and luxuries than Major Terwilliger, I remember it had seemed grossly incredible to us younger folk that he could be the father of the thoughtful, high-minded and convincingly beautiful young woman who paid him the compliment of being his daughter. From the beginning of the voyage Barclay's attitude had been sufficiently apparent to me, or I thought it was. I decided that he was somewhat anxiously weighing the pros and cons as between Van Dyck and Ingerson in the matrimonial scale; weighing them strictly with reference to the results as they might affect him, individually, and quite without concern for his daughter's future happiness. That Bonteck was a clean man and a gentleman, while his rival was everything that Van Dyck was not, appeared to cut no figure. It was hugely farcical, if one could but shut his eyes to the possible tragedies involved. Holly Barclay had joined the _Andromeda's_ company to dispose of his daughter. Ingerson had come as a cold-blooded buyer to the market. Miss Mehitable was hoping to corner the major and Gerald Dupuyster; and Mrs. Van Tromp, yielding precedence, of course, to Barclay and his schemings, had come on the chance of dividing the spoils, since one of the two chief matrimonial prizes would be left after Madeleine--or rather Madeleine's father--had secured the other. That Mrs. Van Tromp's armament was only a secondary battery might have been denied by some. Alicia, the oldest of the trio, was, as I may have said, an attractive young woman of the athletic type, a rider to hounds, a champion swimmer, and a good comrade where men were concerned. In the modern meaning of the term she was a man's woman, with a sort of compelling charm that was all her own. Beatrice, the second daughter, had, as has been noted, a bookish turn. If she had chosen to study surgery she would have been a ruthless vivisector. As a result of this inquiring bent, she had an astonishing, and sometimes rather disconcerting, knowledge of things as they are. But to offset the touch of the blue-stocking, she owned a pair of long-lashed eyes that kindled quickly at any torch of sentiment, and they were set in a face of uncommon sweetness--winsomeness, one would say, if the word were not so desperately outworn. Edith, for whose sake Billy Grisdale was cutting a good half of his Sophomore year, was a replica, in rounder lines and easier curves, of her sister Alicia. Having been carefully held back to give her older sisters a clear field, she was still something of a tomboy, but her very roughnesses were lovable, and Billy's callow folly found, it must be admitted, its full and sufficient excuse in its object. It was Edie Van Tromp, roaming the yacht like a restless bit of misdirected energy, as was her custom, who came to fling herself into the steamer chair next to mine; this in the afternoon of the day when John Grey had given me still less cause to love Miss Mehitable Gilmore. "I'm bored, Mr. Richard Preble--bored to extinction!" she gasped, fanning herself with a vigor that was all her own. "Is nothing ever going to happen on this tiresome ship?" "There are things happening all the time, if we only have eyes to perceive them," I told her, laughing. "In your own case, for example, there is Billy Grisdale. To an interested and sympathetic onlooker like myself it would seem that he is constantly happening in as many different ways as he can devise." "Oh, Billy--yes," she admitted, with pouting emphasis. Then, with a great show of confidence: "Uncle Dick--I may call you Uncle Dick, if I want to, mayn't I?--if you were only a little older and grayer I might tell you something." "Tell me anyhow," I urged. "I am old enough to be perfectly safe, don't you think?" "It's Billy, and you started it," she went on pertly. "That boy is fairly worrying the life out of me. Positively, I'm getting the dreadful habit of carrying my head on my shoulder. He--he's always just there, you know, if I look around." "Is that why you are bored?" "I suppose it is; it must be. Nothing can ever come of it, of course. Billy is nothing but just a handsome, good-natured, sweet-tempered _boy_. It would be years and years, and then more years before----" "So it would," I agreed. "And, besides, Billy has three brothers and two sisters coming along, and Grisdale _père_ is only moderately well-to-do, as fortunes go nowadays." Instantly Miss Edith's straight-browed eyes flashed blue fire. "Money--always and forever money!" she flamed out. "I haven't heard anything else all my life! One would think that heaven itself was paved with it and that the angels wear gold coins for charmstrings. I _hate_ it!" "Oh, no, you don't," I hastened to say. "It's a good, broad-backed little beast, and you can always count upon it for carrying the load. And Billy will probably have to make his own way, without even so much as a loan of the little beast." "I don't care! I think it is perfectly frightful the way we bow down and kowtow to your beast--the great god Cash! I'd rather wash dishes and make bread--for two!" This seemed to be verging toward the edge of things serious. I knew that Mrs. Van Tromp was suffering Billy only because he was so absurdly young as to be supposedly harmless. But if Edith, the healthy-bodied and strong-willed, were even beginning to take notice, there was trouble ahead. "We can none of us afford to defy the conventions, my dear girl," I cautioned, taking the avuncular rôle she had tried to thrust upon me. "And we mustn't let ourselves get into narrow little ruts. The play's the thing, and we are only a part of the audience--you and I." "The play?" she echoed doubtfully. "You mean the--the----" "I mean the great human comedy, of course. It is going on all around us, all the time." "I don't get you," she said, in the free phrase which may have been her own, or may have been a Billy Grisdale transplantation. "You are too young and inexperienced," I asserted in mock gravity. "Otherwise you could hardly have lived a week in the _Andromeda_ without realizing that the stage is set, with the call-boy making his last hasty round, beating upon the doors of the dressing-rooms and summoning the people of the play to come and take their places." "I can't understand a word you say!" she protested petulantly. "Do you mean Conetta and Jerry Dupuyster?" "Miss Kincaide and Jerry are only two, and the cast of characters is large. Wait patiently, Edie, and you shall see. Meanwhile, if I am not mistaken, that long, low streak in the west--you can just make it out if you shade your eyes from the sun glare on the water--is land." She was up and gone at the word, flying to the bridge and crying her discovery--or mine. What the land was, I could not tell. Van Dyck had made a joking mystery of the yacht's course, which, naturally, none of us could determine with any degree of accuracy merely by looking now and then at the telltale compass in the cabin ceiling. I fancied that Van Dyck's object in keeping us in the dark was chiefly to add something to the zest of the cruise, the interest lying in the uncertainty as to what landfall we should first make. As to this, however, nobody seemed to care greatly where we were going, or when we should arrive, so, as one may say, the small mystery had hitherto fallen flat. But now there was a stir among the after-deck idlers, and Major Terwilliger, thrifty grasper at opportunity, immediately made a pool upon the name of the landfall--with Jack Grey whispering to me that the major had already fortified himself by casually questioning the hard-faced sailing-master as to the yacht's latest quadrant-reading--from which he had doubtless been able privately to prick off the latitude and approximate position of the _Andromeda_ upon the cabin chart. V ANY PORT IN A STORM AS an easy matter of course, Major Terwilliger won the pool. The land sighted proved to be Cape Gracias á Dios, the easternmost point of Nicaragua. It would say itself that the Mosquito Coast, low, swampy, and with only three practicable harbors along its three-hundred-mile sweep, could have no attractions for a party of winter pleasurers, and we were leaving Cape Gracias astern when the _Andromeda's_ course was suddenly changed and she was headed for land. Climbing to the bridge a little later, where I found Van Dyck setting the course for the Madeira-man who had the wheel, I learned the reason for the unannounced change. "Trouble in the engine-room," Van Dyck explained. "The port propeller shaft is running hot and threatening to quit on us. We'll have to lay up for a few hours until Haskell can find out what has gone wrong." "The shaft hasn't been giving any trouble heretofore, has it?" I asked. "No; Haskell says it began to heat all at once, shortly after we sighted land." "You'll put in at Gracias?" He nodded. "The harbor isn't much, and the town is still less. But we don't need anything but an anchorage. Haskell thinks we won't be held up very long." That was a cheering prediction, but the event proved it to be too optimistic. The mechanical trouble turned out to be in the thrust bearing of the propeller shaft, and it was more serious than Haskell, chief of the engine-room squad, had supposed it would be. The bearing which, like everything else on the yacht, had been cared for with warship thoroughness, had apparently run dry and it was badly scored and "cut," as a machinist would say. The repair called for hours of patient scraping and filing, and Haskell, who had served as an assistant engineer in the Navy, was properly humiliated. "It sure gets my goat, Mr. Preble," he confided to me when I climbed down into his bailiwick some three or four hours after we had dropped anchor in Gracias á Dios harbor. "It looks as if it was on me, and maybe it is, but I've never had anything like this happen to me before--not since I began as an oiler on one of the old Cunarders. We have automatic lubrication; all the latest wrinkles; and yet that cussed shaft's tore up like it had been runnin' dry for a week. You're an engineer--I just wish you'd look at it." To oblige him I donned overalls and crawled down into the shaft tunnel. A glance at the excoriated bearing showed that Haskell hadn't exaggerated. Quinby, Haskell's first assistant, was scraping and smoothing in a space that was too confined to let a man take the kinks out of his back, and in which there was no room for two men to work. "That is no hurry job," I told Haskell, after I had crawled out. "I think I may safely tell our people that they may have shore leave, if they want it." "You can that," Haskell grinned. "We'll be right here to-morrow morning, and blamed lucky if we can heave up the mud hook by some time to-morrow afternoon." It was too late to spread the news after I left the engine-room. When I reached the main deck all of our ship's company had apparently turned in, though there were lights in the smoking-room to hint that the card-players were still at their favorite pastime. But as I went aft to smoke a bed-time pipe I found Madeleine Barclay curled up in one of the deep wicker chairs. "Pardon me," I said; "I didn't know there was any one here. Don't let me disturb your maiden meditations. I'll vanish." "You needn't," she returned quite amiably; then, seeing the pipe: "And you may smoke if you want to. You know well enough that I don't mind. How long do we stay here?" "That is upon the knees of the gods. I've just been below, and I should say we are good for twenty-four hours, or maybe more, though Haskell thinks we may get out by to-morrow afternoon." "Do we go ashore?" I shook my head. "The others may if they want to; I shan't." "Why not?" "The _Andromeda_ after-deck is much more comfortable than anything to be found ashore in this corner of Nicaragua." "You have been here before?" "Yes; I came around here once, something over a year ago, on a steamer from Belize. We made a stop of a few hours and I was besotted enough to leave the ship. I shan't make any such mistake again." "Gracias á Dios," she said musingly. "I wonder who said it first--and why he was thanking God--particularly?" I laughed. "Some storm-tossed mariner of the early centuries, I imagine, who was glad enough to make a landfall of any sort." "Storm-tossed," she repeated. "Aren't we all more or less storm-tossed, Richard?" "I suppose we are, either mentally, morally, or physically. It's a sad enough world, if you want to take that angle." "But I don't want to take that angle. When I do take it, it's because I have to." Being as much of a hypocrite as any of those whom Van Dyck had proposed putting under his analytical microscope, I said: "But there are no constraining influences at work upon any of us aboard this beautiful little pleasure ship--there can't be." "Do you think not?" she threw in; and then, without warning: "How about you and Conetta, Richard?" In common justice to Conetta I had to feign an indifference I was far from feeling--which was more of the hypocrisy. "That was all over and done with three years ago, as you must know, Madeleine. She wasn't aware of the fact that I was to be in the _Andromeda_ party; and I didn't know she was to be--at least, not until after I had committed myself to Bonteck. Of course we promptly quarreled the moment we met. Perhaps you may have noticed that we've been quarreling ever since." She smiled soberly. "You have made it obvious--both of you; perhaps a little too obvious." Then, after a momentary silence: "Did Miss Mehitable give the real reason for that other and mortal quarrel, three years ago, Richard?" "The reason she gave was enough, wasn't it?" "Some of us thought it wasn't. I don't know how you were acting, but Conetta didn't give a very good imitation of a person who has 'agreed to disagree.'" "I can fill out the picture for you," I said grimly. "I was acting like a man who had been fool enough to lose his temper at the invitation of a crabbed and rather spiteful person who was old enough to be his mother." "Ah!" she said; "I thought it was Miss Mehitable." Then: "Was it because you had lost your money?" "Yes," I said, merely because the simple affirmative seemed to afford the easiest way of brushing aside explanations which might not explain. It was then that Miss Madeleine Barclay became a plagiarist, stealing the very words uttered so hotly by Edie Van Tromp only a few hours earlier. "Money--always money! I _hate_ it, Dick Preble!" I did not answer her as I had answered Edith. "It is a holy hatred, Madeleine. The love of money, and what money will buy, has proved the undoing of--but I don't need to preach to you. Let's talk about something pleasant. Have you ever seen a finer night than this?" "A fine night, and ideal conditions. In a way, we've almost left the strugglesome, toiling, avariciously dollar-chasing old world behind us, haven't we?" "You say 'almost'; why not quite?" She made a little gesture inclusive of the _Andromeda_ as a whole. "Too many reminders of the money and what it will buy. We'd need to be shipwrecked upon some uninhabited island to make the isolation perfect. As that isn't going to happen, I think I'll make the most of what we have and go to bed. Good-night." And she left me. My pipe had gone out and I refilled it. While I had called the night fine, it was measurably warm. With the yacht at anchor there was little breeze, and what little there was came from sea. My stateroom was on the port side, and as the _Andromeda_ was lying with that side toward the land, I was reluctant to leave the open air for the closer quarters between decks. It was while I was smoking a second pipe in comfortable solitude that I fell asleep. The lapse into unconsciousness seemed only momentary, but when I picked up the pipe which had fallen into my lap there was no fire in it and the bowl had grown cold. Also, in the interval, long or short, the yacht's lights had been switched off and the after-deck was shrouded in the soft darkness of the tropical night. From somewhere in the under-depths came a faint clatter of tools to tell me that Haskell and his men were still at work on the disabled shaft, but apart from this the silence was unbroken. Descending the cabin stair I groped my way to the door of my room, which was the farthest forward on the port side, and I remembered afterward that I thought it odd that the saloon lights were all off. On all other occasions when I had been up late I had found a single incandescent left on; one, at least. Inside of the luxurious little sleeping-room that had been assigned to me I felt for the wall switch and snapped it. Nothing happened. I snapped it back and on again, and still nothing happened. Down in the machinery hold I could hear the fluttering murmur of the small auxiliary engine which ran the lighting dynamo, and since it was running, there seemed to be no reason why the lights shouldn't come on. But they wouldn't. While I was speculating upon this curious failure of the lighting system and wondering if it were worth while to go below to ask Haskell what was the matter with the cabin circuit, sounds like the subdued splashing of oars cautiously handled came floating in through the open port. Since I judged it must be midnight or worse, it was only natural that I should want to know why a boat should be coming off to the _Andromeda_ after all the yacht's people save myself were abed and asleep. Not being able to see anything from the stateroom port-light, I hurried back through the darkened saloon and up to the deck. From the rail on the shoreward side I could make out the dim shape of the approaching craft. As nearly as I could determine, it was a large row-boat with at least four men in it; at all events there were four oars. I could see and count the phosphorescent swirls as the blades were dipped. It was evident at once that the boat was coming off to the _Andromeda_. We were anchored well out in the harbor, and there was nothing beyond us; nothing but the harbor mouth and the open sea. Visions of banditry began to flit through my brain. When I had been last in the Caribbean, some three months earlier, Nicaragua had been in the throes of one of its perennial guerrilla wars. A rich man's yacht, offering dazzling loot, might easily be a tempting bait to any lawless band happening to be within striking distance. While I was straining my eyes to get a better sight of the approaching boat, and deliberating as to whether or not I hadn't better call Van Dyck or the sailing-master, a voice at my elbow said: "So you are up late, too, are you, Dick?" and I faced about with a prickling shock of surprise to find Bonteck standing beside me. "I must be getting weak-kneed and nervous," I said. "I thought I was the only person awake at this end of things, and you gave me a start. What boat is that?" "A shore boat, I suppose," he answered evenly. "After I found that we were likely to be delayed until to-morrow, I told Goff he might give some of his men shore leave for a few hours. They were asking for it." "But that isn't one of the _Andromeda's_ boats," I objected. "No; they didn't take one of our boats; they hailed a harbor craft of some sort. I fancied they'd make a night of it, but it seems they didn't." "What time is it now?" I asked. "Two bells in the middle watch--otherwise one o'clock." While we were talking, the boat was pulled up to the port bows of the yacht and a number of men, some half-dozen or more, came aboard. We could see dark figures climbing the rail, but since the yacht was painted white, and Van Dyck and I were both wearing yachting flannels, I suppose we were invisible to the group at the bows. In a minute or so the boat pushed off, cut a clumsy half circle in turning, and headed for the shore, and there was just enough of my foolish nervousness left to suggest that the oarsmen were still trying not to make any more noise than they could help. But the second thought made me smile at the remains of the nervousness. What more natural than that our returning shore-leave men had cautioned the boatmen against making a racket and waking everybody on the _Andromeda_? "I take it you've been down with Haskell," I said to Bonteck, after the shore boat had become a vanishing blur in the darkness. "Yes. He is as sore as a boil about that propeller shaft. Says he never had anything like that happen to him before, and that it reflects upon him as chief. He tried to tell me how unaccountable it was, but I hardly know enough about mechanical things to keep me from spoiling." "It is rather unaccountable," I offered. "I was down a few hours ago and crawled into the shaft tunnel to have a look at it. Ordinarily, when a bearing as large as that begins to run dry, it gives warning some little time beforehand. But Quinby, Haskell's second, says he put his hand on it less than an hour before it began to complain, and it was perfectly cool." "Oh, well," was Van Dyck's easy-going rejoinder, "such things are all in a life-time. We're in luck that it didn't 'seize,' as Haskell says, and twist itself off. You're yawning as if you were sleepy. Better turn in and get whatever this hot night will let you have. Good-night." That was the end of the day for me, save that when I went to my stateroom and once more tried the wall switch the lights came on as usual. The next morning, after a breakfast so early that I sat alone at the long table in the white-lacquered saloon, I went below and offered my services as those of a highly educated jack-of-all-trades to Haskell. "By golly, you're saving my life, Mr. Preble," said our chief mechanic, whose eyes were looking like two burned holes in a blanket. "If you'll boss the job and let me get about a couple of hours in the hay----" "Sure," I agreed; and crawling into the extra suit of overclothes, I proceeded to do it, becoming so mechanically interested in a short time that I not only neglected to call Haskell when his two hours were up, but also let the luncheon hour go by unheeded. By keeping faithfully at it, our gang got the recalcitrant thrust bearing in shape by the middle of the afternoon, the fires were broken out and the blowers put on, and by four o'clock the _Andromeda_ was once more under way and pointing her sharp nose for the open water. As I came up out of the engine-hold to make a bolt for a bath and clean clothes, I saw that Van Dyck had the wheel and was apparently heading the ship straight out toward the Mosquito Cays. As the trim little vessel--which was little only by comparison with the great liners of which it was a copy in the small--went shearing its way at full speed through the heaving ground swell with the westering sun fairly astern, I could not help wondering what our next port of call would be, and if it would be a disabled piece of machinery which would drive us into it. VI A SEA CHANGE WITH the Nicaraguan coast fairly astern, and the _Andromeda_ picking her way gingerly among the cays and reefs which extend from fifty to one hundred miles off the eastern hump of the Central American camel, we soon made the open Caribbean, and our course was once more laid indefinitely to the south and east. If we were to hold this general direction we should bring up in due time somewhere upon the Colombian or Venezuelan coast of South America. Watching my opportunity, I cornered Van Dyck on the bridge at a moment when he had relieved the man at the wheel; this on our second evening out from Gracias á Dios. As I came up, he was changing the course more to the southward, and I asked him if we were slated to do the Isthmus and the Canal. "I hadn't thought very much about it," he answered half-absently. "Do you think the others would like it?" "The Isthmus is pretty badly hackneyed, nowadays," I suggested; "and for your particular purpose----" "Forget it!" he broke in abruptly. And then: "It's a hideous failure, Dick, as you have doubtless found out for yourself." "Which part of it is a failure--your experiment, or the other thing?" "I don't know what you mean by 'the other thing'," he bit out. "Then I'll tell you: You thought it wouldn't be such a bad idea to show Madeleine Barclay what a vast difference there is between yourself and Ingerson as a three-meal-a-day proposition; as a steady diet, so to speak, in an environment which couldn't very well be changed or broken. Wasn't that it?" "Something of the sort, maybe," he admitted, rather sheepishly, I thought. "And it isn't working out?" "You can see for yourself." "What I see is that you are giving Ingerson a good bit more than a guest's chance." "You don't understand," he returned gloomily. "Naturally. I'm no mind reader." While the _Andromeda_ was shearing her way through three of the long Caribbean swells he was silent. Then he said: "I'm going to tell you, Dick; I shall have a fit if I don't tell somebody. Madeleine has turned me down--not once, you know, but a dozen times. It's the cursed money!" "But Ingerson has money, too," I put in. "I know; but that is different. Can't you conceive of such a thing as a young woman's turning down the man she really cares for, and then letting herself be dragooned into marrying somebody else?" "You are asking too much," I retorted. "You want me to believe that a sane, well-balanced young woman like Madeleine Barclay will refuse a good fellow because he happens to be rich, and marry the other kind of a fellow who has precisely the same handicap. It may be only my dull wit, but I can't see it." "I could make you see it if you were a little less thick-headed," he cut in impatiently. And then he added: "Or if you knew Mr. Holly Barclay a little better." It was just here that I began to see a great light, with Madeleine Barclay threatening to figure as a modern martyr to a mistaken sense of duty. Did she know that her father would make his daughter's husband his banker? And was she generously refusing to involve the man she loved? "It ought to make you all the more determined, Bonteck," I said, after I had reasoned it out. "It is little less than frightful to think of--the other thing, I mean. Ingerson will buy her for so much cash down; that is about what it will amount to." "Don't you suppose I know it?" he exclaimed wrathfully. "Good Lord, Dick, I've racked my brain until it is sore trying to think up some way of breaking the combination. You don't know the worst of it. Holly Barclay is in deep water. Strange as it may seem, his sister, Emily Vancourt, named him, of all the incompetents in a silly world, as her executor and the guardian of her son. The boy is in college in California, and next year he will come of age." "And Barclay can't pay out?" "You've said it. He has squandered the boy's fortune as he has Madeleine's. I don't know how he did it, but I fancy the bucket-shops have had the most of it. Anyway, it's gone, and when the fatal day of accounting rolls around he will stand a mighty good chance of going to jail." "Does Madeleine know?" I asked. "Not the criminal part, you may be sure. She merely knows that her father is in urgent need of money--a good, big chunk of it. And she also knows, without being told, that the man who marries her will be invited to step into the breach. Isn't it horrible?" "You have discovered the right word for it," I agreed. And then: "You are not letting it stand at that, are you?" He did not reply at once. From the after-deck came sounds of cheerful laughter, with Alicia Van Tromp's rich contralto dominating; came also the indistinguishable words of a popular song which Billy Grisdale was chanting to his own mandolin accompaniment. Presently Jack Grey's mellow tenor joined in, and in the refrain I could hear Conetta's silver-toned treble. It jarred upon me a little; and yet I tried to make myself believe that I was glad she was happy enough to sing. True to her word, she had consistently maintained the barrier quarrelsome between us; and Jerry Dupuyster was playing his part like an obedient little soldier. "You'd say it was a chance for a man to do something pretty desperate, wouldn't you, Dick?" Van Dyck said, breaking the long pause in his own good time. "I think you would be justified in considering the end, rather than the particular means," I conceded. "I have had a crazy project up my sleeve--a sort of forlorn hope, you know. But after working out all of the details time and again, I've always weakened on it." "Perhaps some of the details are weak," I suggested, willing to be helpful if I could. "One of them is, and I can't seem to build it up so that it will seem reasonably plausible. Of course you know that I'd pay the father out of the prison risk in the hollow half of a minute if I could make it appear as anything less than sheer charity. But I can't do anything like that openly; and if I should do it in any other ordinary way, Madeleine would be sure to find out about it and argue that I was merely lowering myself to Ingerson's plane--paving the way with the money that she despises. And she'd turn me down again--with some show of reason. I am still sane enough to foresee that." "If Miss Barclay only had some money of her own with which to buy her release from that unspeakable father of hers," I began. "That would break the combination easily," he said. "And she did have money once; half of her mother's fortune was left to her--with her father as trustee. It went the same way as Barclay's own half, and the Vancourt trust fund." With Conetta's voice in my ears I couldn't think straight enough to help him much. What I said was more an echo of my own growing determination regarding Conetta than anything else. "I'd fight for my own, Bonteck; and I'd do it with whatever weapon came handiest," I declared; and then the return of the steersman whom Van Dyck had relieved put an end to the confidences for the time being. With the sea routine resumed, and the _Andromeda_ once more steaming free and footloose, a night and a day elapsed before I again had private speech with Van Dyck. As before, it was after dinner in the evening, and Van Dyck had sent one of the cabin stewards to ask me to join him in his stateroom. It was a matchless night, and I was lounging with the younger members of the ship's company on the after-deck when the steward came and whispered to me. We were all singing college songs with Billy Grisdale's mandolin for an accompaniment, and I was able to slip away unnoticed. I found Van Dyck sitting at his table, stepping off distances on a spread-out chart with a pair of compasses, and somehow I fancied that the air of the luxuriously fitted little den was surcharged with the electricity of portent. "You sent for me?" I queried. "Yes; sit down and light your pipe," and he motioned me to a chair. "What are the others doing?" "The young people, with the Greys, are on the after-deck, caterwauling with Billy, as you can hear. There is a bridge table in full blast in the saloon, with Mrs. Van Tromp, Aunt Mehitable, Holly Barclay and Ingerson sitting in. The Sanfords have disappeared--gone to bed, I imagine; and the major is in the smoking-room, guzzling hot toddies." "Good!" was the brief rejoinder. "Everything quiet up forward?" "Why, yes--for all I know to the contrary," I answered in some little surprise. "Why shouldn't it be quiet?" For a moment Van Dyck seemed embarrassed. And his explanation, when he made it, was half halting. "There has been some little trouble with--er--the crew, you know. Quite likely you haven't seen any signs of it. I--I've been trying to keep it under cover as well as I could." "Trouble?--of what sort?" I demanded. "Why--er--the only kind one ever has with a crew; something like a threatened mutiny, I believe." I laughed aloud. "A mutiny on a private yacht? Why, heavens and earth--your men don't have anything to do but to draw their pay and their breath!" "I know; that is the way it would appear. But there is something behind--something you don't understand. If I should tell you that the _Andromeda_ left New York with a quarter of a million dollars in her hold----" "What's that?" I ejaculated, shocked into sudden and lively attention. "You must forgive me, Dick, if I don't go into the particulars," he went on hastily. "I might say, with a good degree of truth, that it isn't altogether my own secret. But--but the fact remains." "A quarter of a mil--Great Caesar!" I gasped. Then the deductive part of my brain began to fit the fragmentary admissions into a probable whole. All summer there had been flying rumors in the West India ports of a revolution brewing in one of the South American republics; an upheaval which was to be financed--in the interests of a great importing corporation--by New York capital. Could it be possible that Van Dyck had foolishly allowed his yacht to be made use of as a money transport? "You don't mean to say that we have that money on board now?" I protested, when the possible consequences began to make themselves manifest. "As it happens, we haven't," he replied, quite calmly. "That is why it took the _Andromeda_ so long to make the run from New York to Havana. I was getting rid of the impedimenta." "But if you've gotten rid of it, why should your crew--" "That is just the point," he explained patiently. "The thing had to be done quietly, and proper precautions were taken at both ends of the line to keep anybody and everybody from finding out that we were carrying a small fortune between-decks. Still, I am afraid it did leak out. That little black-mustached fellow who turned up at Havana, and again in New Orleans----" "That reminds me of something that occurred to me no longer ago than this morning's breakfast-time," I broke in; "a thing that I've been meaning to ask you about ever since. Manuel, the mulatto boy who usually serves breakfast, was invisible this morning, and he had a substitute." "Well?" "I was going to say that, if I'm not greatly mistaken, you have that same mysterious little man--minus the mustaches--on your payroll at this moment, Bonteck. He is the under-steward who goes by the name of Lequat; he was the man who substituted for Manuel this morning, and he was the man who came to me just now to tell me that you wanted me." It was now Van Dyck's turn to sit up and take notice and he did both, emphatically. "That fellow?--In the _Andromeda_?" he exclaimed. "As I say--if I'm not much mistaken. I had a pretty good chance to familiarize myself with his face that night in the hotel dining-room in New Orleans, and I have a fairly decent memory for faces." Van Dyck fell into a muse, breaking the silence finally to say: "By Jove, Dick, that may prove to be a horse of another color, don't you know!" Waiving the question as to what the color of the original horse might have been, I stuck to the point at issue. "If, as you say, you have gotten rid of the money, the situation can't be very alarming. Including engineers, firemen and cabin servants, you can't have over thirty-five or forty men in the crew, all told. There are nine of us in the cabin, and Haskell and the Americans will all stand with us. If we get together and put up a good front----" Van Dyck interrupted hastily--over-hastily, I thought, for a man of his inches and determination in other fields. "It is not to be thought of, Dick; not for a single moment, with all these women aboard. Besides, we have no arms. We'd be shot down in cold blood if it should come to blows." This was so singularly unlike the Bonteck Van Dyck I had known best in the college days that it fairly made me gasp. "Why, Bonteck!" I exclaimed; "what has come over you? You don't mean to say that you would calmly hand the yacht over to those fellows if they should ask you for it?" "It might easily be the only thing to do," he asserted, half mechanically. "Of course, as I say, we haven't the money, and they would have their trouble for their pains, after all. Still, it might be difficult to convince them that the gol--the money has been actually disposed of. If they learned in New York that we really took it on board, and didn't learn afterward that it was disembarked elsewhere ... well, you see how it stacks up, don't you?" "I see that you are making mountains out of molehills," I retorted. "What does Goff say about this potential mutiny?" Van Dyck shook his head as if the mention of Goff merely added to the difficulties of the situation. "That is another thing: Goff may be in it himself. He is an awful tough-looking old pirate. Don't you think so?" "What I think is that you must have been completely off your head when you changed from your Atlantic-liner master and crew to this old fisherman and his Portuguese." "Er--somebody recommended him; I forget just who it was," he went on to explain. "I needed a sailing-master who knew the Caribbean well, and who would do what he was told to do and ask no questions. You see the--er--shipping of the quarter million made some difference, and I couldn't afford to have too much intelligence aboard." Again there was a pause, during which I was trying to persuade myself that this half-hearted young man across the stateroom table from me was really the same Bonteck Van Dyck who had coached crews, captained the 'Varsity football, and had otherwise proved himself a man and a leader of men--the sort of leader who fights to the final gasp, and even then doesn't know when he is beaten. The inability to do it put a little unconscious scorn into my summing-up of the situation. "It is up to you, of course," I said. "We are merely your guests, and what you say is what we shall do. At the same time, I think--in fact I know--that you could count upon practically every man in our much-mixed passenger list to help you put down a mutiny." "That is it--that is just why I sent for you, Dick," he cut in eagerly. "I knew you would be all for making a fight, and that you would probably lead it. For the sake of the women there mustn't be any scrap, you know. It would scare them into hysterics, naturally. If it should come to a showdown we must just make up our minds to take it easy--take the line of the least resistance--if you get what I mean. At the very worst, the mutineers couldn't well do more than to put us ashore somewhere, so that they might have a chance to search the yacht for the money. I have had that in mind all along, and when you came in just now I was trying to figure out our present latitude and longitude. Have you any idea where we are?" "Trying to figure out?" I echoed. "Do you mean to tell me calmly that you--a navigator yourself and the owner of this ship--don't _know_ where we are?" "I'm ashamed to admit that I don't know--precisely. Goff keeps the reckoning, you see, and I have thought that perhaps he wasn't giving me the correct figures." If any additional evidence had been needed, here was another and still more startling proof of the devastating change which had somehow been wrought in the Bonteck Van Dyck I had been thinking I knew. One of his hobbies in the past had been the study of practical navigation, and on more than one long cruise he had been his own sailing-master. That he should deliberately turn the _Andromeda_ over to a man who had been merely "recommended" by some one whose name was already forgotten was little short of astounding. "I truly hope there is nothing worse than an ordinary, every-day mutiny in store for us," I said grimly. "Judging from our course--which Goff may have changed every night, for all you seem to know--we ought to be somewhere in the southern half of the Caribbean. The steamer lanes are well charted, but there are a good many cays and islands outside of them--places where the bones of the _Andromeda_ might lie until they rotted before anybody would ever discover them." "And not all of the islands are inhabited, I take it," said Van Dyck, peering down at his chart as if he hoped to identify some of them. "You know that as well as I do--or better," I snapped. And then: "What in the name of common sense has turned you into such a milk-blooded shuffler, Bonteck? You talk and act as if you weren't more than half----" "Listen!" he said hastily, holding up a warning finger. The stringy tinkle of Billy Grisdale's mandolin had stopped, and with it the singing. Above the murmuring diapason of the yacht's engines we both heard Edie Van Tromp's shrill cry of "Land-o-o-o!" As if the cry had been a pre-concerted signal, it was followed instantly by a confused trampling of feet on the deck over our heads, a sudden slackening of the yacht's speed, and more cries and foot-tramplings. I was upon my feet and was reaching for the door-knob when Mrs. Van Tromp's throaty scream came from the adjoining saloon where the bridge players were sitting. Before I could turn the knob the door was thrust open, and the under-steward, whose ship name was Lequat, backed by two evil-faced fore-deck men armed with rifles, stood in the doorway. At the appearance of this warlike demonstration I was glad to see that Van Dyck, for once in a way, seemed genuinely shocked. "You?" he demanded. "How is this? Where is Mr. Goff?" The little man's smile and bow were like those of a dancing master. "Ze captaine is sand me to inform you zat you are both ze prisonaire, _oui_. You vill sit down in ze chair and wait patient', M'sieu' Van Dyck--and you, Mistaire Preb'. Zis ees w'at you call all cut-and-dry, and----" I suppose I sprang at his throat; it was the only thing for a live man to do. But the little beggar was quicker than a cat, and he brought me up all standing, with a huge pistol thrust into my face. "Aha! you vill choke me, ees it? By gar, Mistaire Preb', eet is possib' I make you--how you say it?--walk ze board--ze plank, yes? You vill sit down on ze chair and tek eet easy. Ze sheep ees belong to h-us, and your fran's 'ave all been lock' up in ze staterooms. You can do notting; _moi_, Alphonse Lequat, vill tek ze comman'." It was not until after all of this had happened that Van Dyck found his voice. "Is this--is this a mutiny, Lequat?" he asked, as mild as mush. "Eet is vat you vill be please' to call heem, M'sieu' Van Dyck, _certainement_. For fifteen, twanty, feefty minute' you vill sit on ze chair, and Pedro, he is stay outside ze door and keel you eef you make noises. Bam-by, _moi_, Alphonse Lequat, s'all come back to tell you vat eet is you s'all do." And then to his men: "_Allons, mes garçons!_" And with that he backed out of the owner's private cabin, and shut and locked the door. VII SHORE LEAVE COINCIDENT with the taking over of the yacht by the mutineers, the engines stopped; but after Lequat had locked us in and left us, the trampling tune of the machinery began again, though it presently became apparent that we were proceeding at something less than half speed. At first I thought the creeping progress might be Haskell's way of showing his reluctance to obey his new masters; but after the engines had made a few of the slow revolutions we heard the sing-song cry of a seaman in the main chains taking soundings. "Feeling for an anchorage," said Van Dyck, speaking for the first time since he had asked Lequat that mush-mild question as to whether or not the outbreak was a mutiny. "Wouldn't you put it up that way?" His query seemed too trivial to merit an answer. "I haven't any time to waste on the guesses," I said, and most likely the tone was as crabbed as the words. Then: "Are you fully awake at last? Do you realize that you've been held up and robbed of a five-hundred-thousand-dollar yacht?" His shrug was perfectly spineless. "'What can't be cured must be endured'," he quoted, handing me the time-worn maxim as if it sufficiently accounted for everything. "Of course, as the person chiefly responsible, I'm all kinds of sorry for you and the others. It's a horribly rude interruption to our pleasure jaunt, and I take it there is no telling what these fellows may do to us." Then, with still more of the air of the completest detachment: "The nervy beggars! Who would ever have suspected it of them? And to carry it off so neatly, too." "It was all plotted and planned beforehand, of course. Didn't this man Lequat say that it was cut-and-dried? Goff is the head and front of it, isn't he?" "Heaven knows. You wouldn't imagine it of Goff--or would you?" "I can easily imagine him breaking rock in a Federal prison--which is what he will do--if he succeeds in keeping his leathery old neck out of the hangman's noose!" "Naturally," Van Dyck agreed easily. "But that is an after consideration. The present realities are what concern us just now. I'm wondering what their next move will be." "You don't seem to be letting your wonderment disturb you very much." I was still warm, both over the bootless little tussle with Lequat, and because Van Dyck had so ignominiously failed to rise to the occasion--and was still continuing to fail. "What's the use?" he queried. "We are like the harmless and inoffensive citizen who wakes up in the middle of the night to find a burglar's spot-light shining in his eyes and the burglar's gun shoved in his face. Discretion is always the better part of valor. Haven't you learned that invaluable lesson, knocking about in this harsh old world? But getting back to things present and pressing--there goes our anchor." The brief roar of the cable running through its hawse-hole told us that the _Andromeda_ was in comparatively shallow soundings. We could feel the snub of the anchor as the yacht's way was checked, and a little later the sounds overhead advertised the fact that the mutineers were lowering one of the boats. Beyond the slap of the lowered boat as it took the water, the noises were less easily definable. There were bumpings and bangings which seemed to come from forward of the bridge, muffled sounds like those of a busy baggage-room at train-time, the shrilling of blocks and tackle, and a skirling chatter suggestive of a steam winch in action. Following these we could hear the low humming of the motor in the dropped electric launch; a murmur which gradually died away as we listened. Somewhat farther along, after the buzzing motor murmur had come and gone often enough to tell us that the launch was plying industriously between the yacht and some other destination, Van Dyck said: "You'd say they were taking an entire cargo ashore, wouldn't you?--provided the _Andromeda_ carried any cargo." Then: "I've cornered a guess, Dick--which you may have for what it is worth. I believe these fellows are meaning to take a leaf out of the book of the old buccaneers of the Spanish Main and maroon us." "What makes you think that?" I demanded. "Putting two and two together. That is the hoist winch making all the clatter up forward. They are unloading the forehold--of our dunnage and some part of the provisions, we'll say--and lightering the stuff ashore in the launch. Assuming that they expect to find a quarter of a million dollars hidden away somewhere in the _Andromeda_, they'll figure that they need to get rid of us, and run fast and far to make their get-away, won't they?" "That sounds sufficiently barbarous to fit in with the rest of it," I fumed. "Right-o. That being the case, they have only to stow us away in some safe place--where we won't be found and rescued too soon--and then up stick and away; put steam to the yacht and vanish. Once they get going, they'll be safe enough. The _Andromeda_ will outrun anything of her inches, short of the torpedo chasers and the hydroplanes, when she is pushed to it. What do you say?" "I'm not saying anything," I returned crustily. "I'm too busy wondering what in Heaven's name has thinned your blood to the milk-and-water consistency, Bonteck. I've heard a few queer things about you during the past three years, but I wasn't told that you had gone completely dippy. Why, man alive! if your guess is right, you stand to lose a cool half-million in the value of the yacht--to say nothing of what may happen to the bunch of us if we are marooned on some lonesome island in the southern Caribbean!" "Yes, there is the marooning to be considered, of course," he said coolly, filling his pipe and lighting it. "But we needn't cross that bridge until we come to it. As to the possible loss of the yacht, that is the least of my troubles, just now. She'll turn up again somewhere, I guess; if they don't smash or sink her." It seemed utterly hopeless to try to arouse him to any adequate sense of the enormity of the thing that had befallen us, and I jumped up and began to pace the narrow limits of the little cabin. Van Dyck's attitude seemed explainable only upon the hypothesis that he had lost his mind, and I wondered if his brooding over the wretched dilemma into which his love for Madeleine Barclay had plunged him hadn't thrown him off his balance. It was certainly beginning to look that way. While I was tramping back and forth in a fever of gloomy rage and helplessness, with Van Dyck sitting at the table and calmly smoking his pipe, the ship's noises took new forms. There was much tramping up and down the saloon stairs, a rattling of keys in locks, opening and shutting of doors, and the like. Again and again the motor launch repeated its short trips, and between two of them there were voices raised in the adjoining saloon; Ingerson's in savage and profane protest, and Mrs. Van Tromp's in tearful inquiry as to what had been done with Mr. Van Dyck. In due course of time our own turn came, and it was Lequat who unlocked and opened our door. "Ze momment ees come," he announced, with a bow and a smirk. "Ze anchor ees--vat ees it you say?--hove short, and ze launch ees wait' for you zhentleman. You vill come peaceab'?--or ees it that ve have to asseest you?" It was now or never, if we meant to try conclusions with this little scoundrel, and I looked to Van Dyck for the answer. He had put on his cap, slung a cased field-glass over his shoulder, and was closing and locking the drawers of the writing-table. As I have said, it was his final chance for making some show of resistance, and he was weakly letting it go. When we reached the deck, guarded closely by four or five of the mutineers, it became evident that we were the last of the ship's company to be summoned. The night was fine, with a sickle of a moon in its first quarter, and the sea undisturbed by so much as a ripple. The _Andromeda_ was at anchor a short distance from one of the many cays with which the southern Caribbean is dotted; a long, low-lying island plumed with palms and densely jungled with tropical undergrowth. The yacht lay within a stone's throw of an outer reef, and the reef enclosed a broad lagoon reflecting the shadows of the palms like a silver mirror under the shimmering moonlight; and the shadowy background of foliage was made blacker by contrast with a ribbon of white sand beach. Though there was a passage through the reef just opposite the _Andromeda's_ temporary berth, the mutineers had apparently been too cautious to try to enter it with the yacht. They had merely felt their way with the sounding line to within bottoming distance on the outside of the reef, and dropped the anchor. There was little question now as to their intention. They were stopping only long enough to get rid of us. In ominous silence Van Dyck and I were herded toward the accommodation ladder, at the foot of which lay the electric launch. Up to the final moment I was hoping to see Bonteck reassert himself, at least to the extent of protesting against the high-handed crime these scoundrels were committing. When it became apparent that he was not going to say anything, I took a chance for myself. "I suppose you know what you are doing, Lequat," I barked, after we had taken our places in the launch. "This is piracy on the high seas, and you don't have to be much of a sailorman to know what that means." "You vill not be trouble you'self 'bout me, Mistaire Preb'," he returned politely. Then, as the man at the ladder foot pushed us off: "_Bon voyage_, M'sieu' Van Dyck. _Bon soir_, and--how you say it?--G-o-o-d-by!" The launch, manned by a crew numerous enough to have thrown us overboard if we had raised a hand in rebellion, sped silently across to the narrow inlet in the reef and entered the peaceful lagoon. Almost at once a sickening, terrifying conviction began to force itself upon me. From the first out-of-door glance at the surroundings there had been something familiar in the appearance of the reef, the pond-like lagoon, and the low-lying island. As we were passing through the inlet the moonbeams struck out the black and shattered remains of a wreck hanging upon the outer reef a short distance on our right, and then I _knew_! "The Lord have mercy!" I gasped; and Van Dyck looked up quickly. "What is it?" he asked. "The wreck of the _Mary Jane_!" I whispered, pointing to the black skeleton on the rocks. "This is the island I told you about--the horrible place where we were shipwrecked a year ago last winter!" "You don't say so!" he returned; and then, to make the reply still more trite: "What a remarkable coincidence!" His indifference was maddening, and my temper--the temper that had once cost me any shadow of a chance that I might have had in persuading Miss Mehitable Gilmore that, money or no money, Conetta's happiness, as well as my own, was of more importance than any mere fortune lost or gained--this flyaway temper got the better of me and I said things for which I was sorry the moment they were said. "Pile it on as thick as you please, old man," Van Dyck rejoined, meekly, after I had abused him like an angry fishwife. "It is coming to you--and to the others, as well. What they will do to me presently will doubtless be good and plenty, and you'll have your revenge." Two minutes later the launch was nosing the white sand of the beach, and the man at the tiller made motions for us to get out. Van Dyck stepped ashore and I followed him. A few yards away, at the edge of the jungle thicketing, our cabin castaways were huddled around a great pile of luggage and ship's stores. Their greeting of Van Dyck when he joined them was all that his most vindictive accuser could have desired; cries and reproaches, eager questionings and sobbing protests from the women; and from the men a fierce storm of demandings led by the major and Holly Barclay. Since Jerry Dupuyster made no move to do it, I drew Conetta quickly out of the Babel and walked her beyond earshot. Major Terwilliger was so far forgetting himself as to swear savagely at his late host, and Ingerson's language was brutal. "Tell me, reasonably and sanely, if you can, Dick, just what has been done to us," urged my companion, with a little shiver of fright or disgust--or possibly of both; this when we paused to watch the retreating launch cleave its way across the lagoon to the waiting yacht. "I don't know very much more about it than you do," I told her. "There is a mutiny, with a plot to steal the _Andromeda_, it seems, and it is quite evident the thing was carefully planned. I was below when it climaxed and so saw nothing of what was happening on deck. They didn't hurt anybody, did they?" "I think not. It came so suddenly that they didn't need to use force. We were under the awning, just as you left us. Edie Van Tromp saw this island and called out 'Land-o,' and the next thing we knew a lot of men with guns had surrounded us and were ordering us to go to our staterooms and to be quick about it. That little dark-faced under-steward who talks so brokenly seemed to be the leader. He was polite enough about it, but when Jack Grey and Billy began to protest, he made four of his men grab them." "Then you were hustled below?" "Yes. When we got down to the saloon, more of the armed men were shoving the bridge players into the staterooms, and Hobart Ingerson was swearing awfully. So was the major when they dragged him out of the smoking-room." "They are swearing yet," I said. "What did your aunt say?" "She didn't say a single word; she just walked into our stateroom ahead of me, as stiff as a poker, and I couldn't get a word out of her. I don't know whether she was scared, or just too angry for words. She sat on the edge of her bed like a frozen statue until they came to take us ashore. What are the wretches going to do?--leave us here on this deserted little strip of an island?" The answer to her question was at that very moment shaping itself before our eyes. While its propeller was still churning idly, the electric launch was hooked and hoisted to its davits, the anchor was broken out, and the _Andromeda_ began to forge slowly ahead, again with a man in the bow heaving the lead and calling out the soundings. "We are marooned," I said soberly enough, I guess. "It may be for a day, a week, a month or a year. I happen to know this island only too well. I was shipwrecked upon it once. Those are the bones of our old schooner, the _Mary Jane_, out yonder on the reef." She gave a little gasp of shocked surprise. "You shipwrecked?--and I never heard of it!" she exclaimed. "How long were you here, Dick?" "Nearly a month. A tramp steamer, blown out of its course between Colon and La Guaira by a hurricane, saw our signals and took us off." She glanced over her shoulder apprehensively. "There are no--no savages, are there?" she shuddered. I shook my head. "Hardly; not in the twentieth century. For that matter, I doubt if there ever were any. The place isn't big enough to support much of a population." We were walking again now, keeping to the hard sands, and turning our backs resolutely upon the vanishing white phantom which was the ship that was deserting us. "There are eighteen of us," Conetta said, after a time. "Doesn't that mean starvation, sooner or later?" "There were six of us who were washed ashore from the _Mary Jane_," I said. "We lived on shell fish and cocoanuts--just barely, as you might say. There is a tradition that we were not the first, and that the others, the crew of a Spanish treasure ship marooned by the old English sea rovers, did starve." "Heavens!" she breathed. "The place ought to be full of ghosts! But you don't believe those terrible old tales, do you?" "They were true enough, doubtless; but we needn't go out of our way to localize them. In the present instance----" I was about to tell her of the remains of the ancient wreck farther down the beach, but I thought better of it and switched--"in the present instance we are not going to starve, for a while, at least. The mutineers have given us a fighting chance by dividing the ship's stores with us. Didn't you hear the launch going back and forth before you were taken off?" "Yes, I heard it," she acknowledged. "That must have been part of the plan, too." Then she stopped and faced me suddenly. "Where was Bonteck while all the rest of us were being hustled out of the way?" "He was a prisoner in his stateroom, locked in, and with a man on guard." She looked me squarely in the eyes after a disconcerting fashion which might have been acquired from her downright aunt. "Do you know that, Dick? Or is it only a friendly guess?" "I know it because I was locked in with him. The mutineers had given us our orders--told us that we were down and out, you know." "And you made no resistance--you two?" I didn't say anything about my futile attempt to choke Lequat. "Bonteck seemed to be afraid of a general massacre, or something of that sort, if we should put up a fight." "I'm not satisfied," she returned promptly. "It is too absurd. Could a thing like this have been planned without some hint of it getting to Bonteck? And then there is Mr. Goff: you don't mean to tell me that that crabbed, sour, shrimmy old piece of New England honesty and prying curiosity could be kept from finding out." "Bonteck hints that Goff may be heading the mutiny." "That," said Conetta, with calm conviction, "is simply nonsense. I wouldn't believe it, not if Mr. Goff told me so himself." And then: "Shall we go back to the others now? The storm seems to have blown itself out: and we mustn't forget--you and I--that we have agreed to disagree." Her use of Aunt Mehitable's phrase touched off that cursed temper of mine again, and if I had made any reply at all it would have been one that I should have repented of. So we walked back to the haphazard landing place in sober silence. When we joined the main body of castaways it seemed that Van Dyck had contrived by some means to stem the storm of question and reproach and to quiet it, for the time, at least. The women were sitting apart on the boxes of canned things, and Grey and Grisdale, under Bonteck's directions, and with his help, were setting up the three tents which the mutineers' generosity, or chivalry, had included in our dunnage. Somebody had kindled a small fire on the beach, but the night was so warm that, apart from the cheer of it, the blaze served no purpose other than to light up the somber faces turned toward it. After the tent-pegging--in which I hastened to share a part when I saw what was toward--we four made an attack upon the boxed stores. There were provisions in plenty; meats in canvas and meats in tins, vegetables fresh and vegetables in cans, ship's biscuit, and a variety of the other more ornamental--and less filling--kind; tea, coffee, sugar and evaporated cream; all of the calories to make a balanced ration. Last, but not least, there was a beaker of fresh water, though as to this, there were two good springs on the island, and a rill from one of them was trickling into the lagoon a few yards from our landing place. Besides the necessary proteins, hydrocarbons and the like, there were a few of the luxuries; a case of liquors, a box of candles, another of cigars, cigarettes and tobacco, soap and towels, and even a couple of mirrors ravished from the bulkheads of the _Andromeda_--these last, I dare swear, a thought of the dancing-master Lequat's. For beds there was a bale of canvas hammocks; and somebody's chivalric promptings--Lequat's or another's--had gone the length of including the baggage-hold-stored steamer trunks of the women, though we men had only the clothes we stood in. Before our amateur camp was fully pitched the dark cloud of dismay and disheartenment began to show rifts here and there. After all was said, we were all alive and well, with plenty to eat and drink, and with no immediate prospect of hardship. Perhaps it was no matter for surprise that Sanford, the absent-minded professor of mathematics, was the first to rise to the philosophical demands of the occasion. "I dare say there isn't a civilized human being in the world who hasn't, at one time or another, wished to be situated just as we find ourselves at the present moment," he began, after Grey and Billy Grisdale and the Van Tromp girls had goaded him into his proper class-room-lecturer's attitude. "For the time being--which we may very properly hope will not be unduly extended beyond the pleasant and profitable limit--we shall be able to live in a little world of our own making. If we have any resources of our own to fall back upon--and I trust none of us is wholly lacking in that respect--we may prove and try them, and quite possibly we may discover that, after all, environment, the conventions, the social machinery with which our civilization has surrounded us, are by no means strictly necessary to the sane, normal human being. Let us, therefore, eat and drink, and be thankful that things are no worse with us than we are at present finding them." As if he had been an after-dinner speaker rising to express his pleasure at being among us, the professor was heartily applauded, and, following his suggestion, we had a bed-time snack of biscuits and tea around the handful of camp-fire. And, such is the force of good example, by the time the second pannikin of water was boiling, the younger members were making a jest of the most serious adventure that had ever befallen any of them. Jerry Dupuyster was pouring tea for Beatrice Van Tromp; Conetta had deliberately left her aunt's side to come and sit on the sand between Annette Grey and me; and Madeleine Barclay, as fetchingly beautiful in her white yachting flannels as she had ever appeared in her richest dinner gown, was listening patiently--nay, sympathetically, I thought--to Bonteck's well-worn explanation (which did not explain) of how it had all come about. To offset these cheerful ameliorations there were a sufficient number of death's heads at the feast, as a matter of course. Major Terwilliger, contemplating a prospect which promised little in the way of his cherished diversions, sat apart and grumbled peevishly because the tea tasted smoky. Holly Barclay, robbed at one sheer stroke of all the little refinements and luxuries which made the sum of his aimless and worthless life, was still in the bickering stage; and Ingerson, with the few restraints which he recognized stricken away, was a plain brute, taking no pains to conceal his angry disgust, and making snappish bids to be let alone when any one was charitable enough to speak to him. As for the women, the three who would be the first to feel the pinch of any privations that might come upon us were behaving beautifully, putting the major's gloom and Barclay's pettishness and Ingerson's grumpy rage to shame. Mrs. Van Tromp--a most easy-going soul when she could forget for the moment that she had three marriageable, and as yet unmarried, daughters on her hands--had already forgotten her reproachful complainings. Conetta's Aunt Mehitable was arguing peacefully with the professor on the philosophical aspect of the situation, though quite without prejudice, I fancied, to the sharp eye she was keeping upon Conetta in her new juxtaposition between Annette Grey and me. Mrs. Sanford, who, in spite of her motherliness, was a frail little body physically, was apparently regarding the hammock beds with some degree of trepidation; nevertheless, she went on sipping her tea with evident relish, and she found time and the spirit to smile understandingly across the circle at Billy Grisdale and Edie Van Tromp, and to stoop and pat Billy's bull pup, when the dog, finding that his master had no present use for him, wandered from one to another to stick his extremely _retroussé_ nose into any hospitable palm that offered. "Shall we be able to keep this up, do you suppose?" Conetta whispered to me, between the last two bites of her biscuit. "I think the moonlight, what there is of it, is entrancingly beautiful, don't you?" I laughed. "'Sufficient unto the day (or night)----' You know the rest of it. I'm willing to let to-morrow take care of itself. Are you?" "Maybe I am." Then, with a return to the old-time dartings aside: "What do you imagine Jerry is finding so alluring in Bee Van Tromp? He has never read a book in his life." "Beatrice isn't all book," I retorted. "On this voyage which has come to such an abrupt halt I have been finding her a very charming young woman. Her eyes, now." "Shush! Any woman can make eyes at a man. If you'll look around at me, I'll show you." "Not any more," I said, and the saying was purely in self-defense. "Wait," she teased. "The island is small--you said it was, didn't you?--and you can't always look the other way." Then: "Can't we even quarrel decently, Dickie Preble?" Mrs. Van Tromp was rising stiffly and I was saved the necessity of replying. "Time to go to bed, my dears," said the mother of three with great good-nature. And then to me: "Dick Preble, are you sure you fastened my hammock securely? Because, if you didn't--well, you know--I'm dreadfully heavy. There now! Wild horses wouldn't have dragged that admission out of me at home. Conetta, you rogue, you're laughing at me, but you're blushing, as well, and that's one of the conventions, too. Never mind. I'm afraid every second step will be on a crab, or a scorpion, or some other hideous thing. Good-night, all!" VIII INTO THE PRIMITIVE IT was I who told Edie Van Tromp that the name, or legendary name, of our island was "Pirates' Hope," and when she announced it at our first camp breakfast it was acclaimed with a cheerful unanimity which went far to show how, after a night's rest, we were able to make a jest out of what had figured, only a few hours earlier, as a crude calamity. After breakfast, Van Dyck, throwing off the lethargy which had apparently bound him hand and foot when a little decision might have turned the tables upon the mutineers, took his place energetically and capably as the governor of our little colony. Under his directions a signal was set at the nearer, or western, end of the island, enough of the jungle was cleared to enable us to pitch the tents under the shade of the palms, a cooking camp was established, and a rude thatched shelter was built to protect the stores and luggage. In these various industries there were only three idlers among the men--the major, Holly Barclay, and Hobart Ingerson; and Edie Van Tromp, volunteering to go with me to start a smoke fire at the signal cape, was furious. "Wouldn't that set your back teeth on edge, seeing those three able-bodied gentlemen sunning themselves on the beach while everybody else is getting blisters on their hands!" she flamed out, with a fine disregard for the little grammatical inaccuracies. "I'd be ashamed!" "You shouldn't deny the gentlemen the privilege of smoking their after-breakfast cigars in comfort," I protested, grinning. "Perhaps, after the cigars are all gone, and we come down to just plain pipes and plebeian cut-plug tobacco----" "I don't care! It's perfectly horrid of them, _I_ think. Mother got us women together this morning while you men were fixing the tents, and we all agreed to do the cooking, taking turns at it. When it comes my turn, I shall tell those three loafing gentlemen that they can undertake to wash the dishes, or go hungry!" "Good!" I applauded. "You are a real, honest-to-goodness human woman, under the skin, aren't you, Edie?" She stuck out a pretty under lip at me. "Did you ever, for one little fraction of a minute, doubt it, Mr. Richard Preble?" "No; it is only fair to say that I have never doubted it. You and Billy are the real thing, whatever may be said for the remainder of us." "Billy is a darling!" she declared enthusiastically. "Last night, when those pirates rushed us with their guns, you know, I wanted to cry; boo-hoo right out like a silly baby. It was just plain scare. A grown man would have tried to comfort me, I suppose, but Billy joshed me and made fun of me until I was too mad to be scared. Isn't it a thousand pities that he's so young, and so--so----" "So poor?" I finished for her. "It is; a thousand pities. But there is hope on ahead, my dear child. Billy will outgrow his infancy some time; and you mustn't lose sight of the fact that, so far as poverty and riches are concerned, we all look very much alike, just now." In such light-hearted banterings back and forth we put the quarter-mile of beach behind us and got busy with our smudge-fire building at the foot of the stripped palm-tree which carried one of Madeleine Barclay's knitted shoulder wraps for a distress signal. With a few palmetto leaves and bits of rotting wood to crisp and smoulder in the blaze we soon had our smoke column erected; and beyond this there was nothing much to do save to scan the horizon for the hoped-for sail. "Do you really believe we shall be taken off before long, Dick Preble?" was Miss Edith's soberly put query, this after the fire was well established, and we were doing the horizon-sweeping stunt. "Do you want the bald truth, or some nice little hopeful fiction?" I asked. "You may save the fictions for Conetta and Madeleine and Annette, if you please. As you were kind enough to admit, a few minutes ago, I am a woman grown." "Then I shall tell you plainly, Edie. I know this island. It is quite some distance from the nearest of the steamer lanes. It may be a long time before any one finds us." She was silent for a little while, but the resolute, girlish eyes were quite unterrified. When she spoke again it was of a different matter. "Dick," she began earnestly, "do you believe there is anything more than foolishness at the bottom of all the talk we hear about a woman's intuition?" "All sober-minded people admit that there is, don't they?" I said. "There is something behind all this that is happening to us," she asserted gravely; "something that I can feel, and can't grasp or understand. It is as real to me as the breeze in those palms, or this staring sunshine, and is as intangible as both." "You have been talking with Conetta," I said shortly. "About this? No, I haven't. What makes you say that?" "No matter; go on with your intangibility." "This sudden mutiny and the way it was hurled at us: it is all so strange and unaccountable. Who ever heard of the sailing-master of a private yacht turning pirate? And especially a dear, cross old Uncle Elijah, whose ancestors probably came over in the _Mayflower_?" "Is Bonteck saying that Goff headed the mutiny?" I asked. "He is letting the others say it, which is just the same." "As you say, it is fairly incredible. Yet the fact remains. We are here, and the _Andromeda_, with Goff on board, has vanished." "I know; but the mystery isn't to be solved in any such easy way as that. What possible use can Uncle Elijah or his crew of Portuguese and mixed-bloods make of the _Andromeda_, which is probably known in every civilized harbor of the world as Mr. Bonteck Van Dyck's private yacht?" I hesitated to tell her the story of the treasure-carrying. That was Van Dyck's secret, so long as he chose to make a secret of it. "As to the object of the mutiny, we are all entitled to a guess," I said. Then I offered one which was plausible or not, as one chose to view it: "Suppose we suppose that some one of the Central or South American countries is on the edge of a revolution; that isn't very hard to imagine, is it?" "No." "Very well. The sharpest need of the rebels in any revolution is for arms and ammunition; next to this, a fast ship to carry the arms and ammunition. If there should happen to be money enough in the revolutionary war-chest, isn't it conceivable that even an Uncle Elijah might be tempted?" She turned and looked me squarely in the eye. "Is that your guess, Dick Preble?" she demanded. "It is as good as any, isn't it?" I replied evasively. When she said: "It doesn't satisfy me; it is too absurd," her repetition of Conetta's protest of the previous night was almost startling. "There are times when you women are almost uncanny," I told her, but she merely laughed at that. "The absurdity isn't my only hunch," she went on, after the frank-speaking manner of her kind. "This Robinson Crusoe experience is going to be a dreadful thing, in a way. There won't be any illusions left for any of us, I'm afraid--any more than there were for the people of the Stone Age." That sage remark brought on more talk, and we speculated cheerfully on the death of the illusions and what might reasonably be expected as the results thereof. My chatty companion had a lively imagination, and her forecastings of the changes that would ensue in the different members of our colony were handsomely entertaining. "And you," she said, when she had worked her way around to me in the prophesying; "I can just see what an unlivable person you will become." "Why should I be so particularly unlivable?" I asked. "That awful temper of yours," she went on baldly. "With all the civilized veneer cracked and peeling off--my-oh!" Now it is one thing to be well assured, in one's own summings-up, of the possession of a violent temper, and quite another to be told bluntly that the possession is a commonly accepted fact among one's friends and acquaintances. Edie Van Tromp's assertion of the fact as one that had--or might have been--published in the newspapers came with a decided shock. "Am I as bad as all that?" I protested. "Everybody knows what a vile temper you have," she replied coolly. "Anybody who couldn't get along with Conetta Kincaide without quarreling with her------" "Oh; so she has told you I have quarreled with her?" "There you go," she gibed. "One has only to mention Conetta to you to touch off the powder train. What makes you quarrel with her, Uncle Dick?" "What makes you think I am quarreling with her?" "Hoo! I've got eyes, I guess. Of course, you've been decently polite to her, but a blind person could see that it was just put on. The veneer wasn't cracked then. I shudder to think what will happen when it gets all cracked and peelly." I thought it was time for a diversion, so I turned the tables upon her. "How will it be with you after the veneer glue lets go?" "Oh, me?--I'm just a crude little brute, anyway. I don't just see how I _could_ change for the worse. I'm saying this because I know it is what you are thinking. But there's one comfort. Billy won't see any difference in me, no matter what I do. And Billy himself won't change; he's too obvious." We prolonged our watch until nearly noon, when the professor and his wife came out to relieve us. It may say itself that during our two hours or more of horizon-searching we saw no signs of a rescue vessel. In the wide three-quarters of a circle visible from the western point of the island--a point where I had spent many weary hours after the shipwreck of the _Mary Jane_--there had been only the calm expanse of sea and sky with nothing to break the monotony. At the camp under the palms we found things settling into some sort of routine. A fire was going in the rude fire place built of rough chunks of the coral, and Mrs. Van Tromp and her athletic eldest were cooking dinner. The major and Holly Barclay were still loafing on the beach, both of them smoking as though we had a Tampa cigar factory to draw upon instead of a strictly limited supply of Van Dyck's "perfectos." Madeleine and Beatrice Van Tromp, working together, were trying to fashion a basket out of stripped palm fronds--though just what purpose a basket would serve I couldn't imagine. Billy Grisdale, suddenly become useful, was gathering bits of wood for the cooking fire. Jack Grey, who, besides being a rising young attorney, had a flair for building things, was adding to the thatch of the dunnage shelter, and Annette was helping him. Ingerson was invisible, and so was Van Dyck. Miss Mehitable, whose health may or may not have been all that it should be, was lying in her hammock, and Conetta, ever dutiful, was fanning her with a broad palmetto leaf. Among the workers it was Jerry Dupuyster who appeared in the most original rôle. In the nattiest of one-piece bathing suits--supplied, as I made no doubt, out of the luggage of one of the Van Tromp girls--he had swum the lagoon to the wreck of the _Mary Jane_, where he now appeared, a symphony in cerise stripes and bare legs, hacking manfully at the wreck with a hand-axe to the end that we might increase our scanty stock of firewood. After the noon meal, at which Van Dyck appeared just as we were sitting down to it, Jerry and I were told off to go on sentry duty at the eastern end of the island, where we were to establish another distress signal. "Us for the sentry-go, old chappie," said Jerry cheerfully, and together we took the beach trail for our post. Reaching the eastern extremity of things after a walk of perhaps three-quarters of a mile along the beach, we presently had an improvised flag flying from a lopped tree, and after we had lighted a smoke smudge there was nothing more to do but to watch for the sail which I, for one, did not expect to see. "Jolly rum old go, what?" said Jerry, casting himself full length upon the sand when our labors were ended. "Shouldn't mind it so much, don't y' know, if we didn't have the women along. Smoke?" and he handed me his tobacco bag. "The women, and one or two others," I qualified, filling my pipe. "Haw, yes: Hob Ingerson, for one. Actin' like a bally cad, Ingerson is. Needs to have some chappie give him a wallop or so, what?" "Yes; and when it comes to the show-down, I rather hope I'll be the 'chappie'," I said. "Not if I see him first," Jerry cut in, and this, indeed, was a new development. "You're under weight, Jerry; you wouldn't make two bites for Ingerson if you should try to mix it with him." "Eh, what?" exclaimed the transformed--or transforming--one, sitting up suddenly. "If he doesn't stop his dashed swearin' before the women, I'll take him on; believe me, I will, old dear." "What makes you think you'd last out the first half of the first round with a big bully like Ingerson?" I asked, grinning at him. "Number of little things, old top; this, for one," and he opened his shirt to show me something that looked like a ten-dollar gold piece suspended by a silken cord around his neck. "And what might that be?" I inquired, mildly curious. He pulled the string off over his head and handed me the gold disk. It proved to be a medal, struck by some gentlemen's boxing club of London, testifying to the facts that Mr. Gerald Dupuyster was a member in good standing, and that he had won the medal by reason of his being the top-notcher in the club's series of light-weight matches. "I never would have suspected it of you, Jerry," I commented, returning the medal. "In fact, I should have said you were the last person on earth to go in for the manly art of self-defense. What made you?" "Oh, I say!--all the chappies with any red blood in 'em go in for it over there, y' know. Jolly good sport, too; what?" "Here's to you, if you conclude to try it on with Ingerson," I laughed. "I'll be your towel-holder. But Ingerson isn't the only one we could do without on this right little tight little island of ours, Jerry." "You're dashed right. There's Barclay, for another." "Yes; and----" "Say it, old dear. Don't I know that the old uncle is cuttin' up rusty? Grousing because he can't sit in an easy-chair and swig toddies no end! Makes me jolly well ashamed, he does." Here was another astonishing revelation. From what I had seen on shipboard--from what we had all seen--there had been ample grounds for the supposition that Jerry was a mere pawn in any game his uncle might choose to play. But now there seemed to be quite a different Jerry lying just under the cracking crust of the conventions. The discovery took a bit of the bitterness out of my soul. If I couldn't have Conetta for myself, it was a distinct comfort to know that she wasn't going to draw a complete blank in the great lottery. Under all of Jerry's Anglomaniacal fripperies there was apparently a man. At the refilling of his pipe this changed, or changing, Jerry spoke of my former immurement on the island, saying that Conetta had told him a bit about it, and asking if I wouldn't tell him a bit more. So once again I told the story of the ill-fated voyage of the _Mary Jane_ and its near-tragic sequel for six poor castaways. "Rummy old go, that," he commented, when the tale was told. "Dashed easy to see how a chap might lose out on all the little decencies when the belly-pinch takes hold. Are we likely to come a cropper into that ditch before some bally old tub turns up to take us off?" "I'm hoping not," I said. He was silent for a time, and when he spoke again it was to say: "We've eighteen mouths to fill, old dear; how long can we fill 'em out of the blooming tins; eh? what?" I shook my head. "Van Dyck and I checked the provisions over this morning while we were storing them. We shall do well enough for two or three weeks; maybe longer, if we're careful not to waste any of the food." At this my fellow watcher swore roundly in good, plain American. "Saw Holly Barclay turn up his damned nose and pitch his ship's biscuits into the lagoon this morning," he explained. "Said something about their not bein' fit for a human being to eat, by Jove!" "He'll sing another tune if we have to come down to cocoanuts and sea worms," I prophesied. Even this early in the game it was plainly evident that Barclay, the major, and Hobart Ingerson were going to be our sorest afflictions when the pinch should come. In such fashion we wore out the afternoon, blinding our eyes, as I had many times blinded mine in other days, with fruitless searchings of the unresponsive waste of waters. At dusk we built up the signal fire to make it last as long as possible and returned to the camp at the other end of the island. When we came in sight of it, Mrs. Van Tromp and two of her girls were putting the supper for the eighteen of us on a clean tarpaulin spread upon the beach. Van Dyck met us just before we joined the others. "Nothing?" he queried. "Nothing," we answered. And the evening and the morning were the first day. IX THE BULLY THAT remark of Edith Van Tromp's, to the effect that the illusions would all be swept away, had its confirmation before we had tholed through the first week of our island captivity. Little by little the masks slipped aside, and some of the revealments of the true character hiding behind them--some of the revelations, but not all--were grimly illuminating. Before the week's end I saw the major slyly slip the last box of the precious cigars under his coat when he thought no one was looking and go off to hide it in a shallow hole scooped in the dry sand of the beach edge at a safe distance from the camp. Later, I came upon him as he was burying a couple of bottles of the diminishing supply of liquor in the same place--and he lied to me and said he was digging for shell-fish. Two or three days earlier than this, Holly Barclay had taken to his hammock bed in a fit of purely imaginary illness, exacting constant attendance and pampering in which he made a toiling slave of his pretty daughter. When the pampering began and continued with no sign of abatement in the querulous demands Barclay was making upon Madeleine, Van Dyck grew gloomy and snappish, and I knew that the day was only postponing itself when Bonteck would flame out at the sham invalid and tell him exactly and precisely what a selfish malingerer he was. Still lower in the unmasking scale came Ingerson--the real Ingerson--who had lapsed into a sullen barbarian; unshaven, unbathed, and with the coarse warp and woof of him showing at every threadbare seam. What time he had free access to the liquor, he drank himself ugly at least once in every twenty-four hours; and when Mrs. Van Tromp finally shamed him out of his daylight attacks upon the liquor chest, he took to raiding it after the camp was asleep, keeping this up until one night when he found that the remainder of the bottled stuff had disappeared. After this he became a morose threat to everybody, and even Mrs. Van Tromp ignored his millions and turned a cold shoulder upon him. Three nights after his unsuccessful effort to turn up another bottle of whiskey in the stores, the drink maniac tried it again, and this time Van Dyck awoke and caught him at it. "Looking for something you haven't lost, Ingerson?" he said, speaking quietly to keep from disturbing the others. Ingerson backed out of the palmetto-thatched store shelter and whirled upon Van Dyck with a face which, as the firelight showed it to me, was that of a devil denied. "Where have you hid it?" he demanded hoarsely. "Tell me, or I'll wring your damned neck!" Van Dyck's smile was almost as devilish as Ingerson's teeth-baring snarl. "You needn't make a racket and wake the camp," he said in the evenest of tones. "I did hide it, and it was partly to give you a decently fair chance. Come with me." And he got up and the pair of them disappeared among the palms. Not trusting Ingerson any more than I would have trusted a snake, I rose silently and followed them into the shadows, coming in sight of them again as they entered a little open glade on the opposite side of the island. Ingerson had halted and was gesticulating angrily. "I want to know here and now what you meant by that 'decent chance' break you made at me!" he was saying. "If you mean Madge Barclay, I can tell you right off the bat that you're a dead one!" "We will leave Miss Barclay quite out of it, if you please," said Bonteck, still apparently as cool as Ingerson was hot. "You want liquor, and I've brought you here to give it to you." "We'll settle that other little thing first," Ingerson broke in truculently. "You put up this winter cruise, that you've bungled and turned into a starvation picnic, with the notion that you were going to corner the market for yourself, I suppose. I'm here to tell you that you lose out. Barclay makes this deal without any brokers, and I hold an option on him." "You will have to make that part of it a little plainer, I'm afraid," said Van Dyck; and now there was a dangerous softness in his voice. "You can have it straight, if you want it that way. Barclay's in a hole for money; he's always in a hole. I've agreed to pay him out, once for all, and he's accepted the bid." "And the price?" queried Bonteck gently--very gently. "You can ask Madge about that," was the surly rejoinder. And then: "Get a move: where have you hid that whiskey?" "You shall have the whiskey presently, Ingerson; but first I'm going to give you something you've been needing a good bit worse for a long time. Put up your hands, if you know how!" It was a very pretty fight, out there in the moonlit glade, with the camp far enough removed to make the privacy of it safe, and with no ring-side audience, so far as either of the combatants knew, to hiss or applaud. Ingerson was no coward, neither was he lacking in bull strength, nor in the skill to make fairly good use of it. Though he went in at the beginning with a handicap of blind rage, the first few passes steadied him and for a minute or so it looked as if Bonteck had taken on a full load. But, as a very ordinary prophet might have foretold, Ingerson's late prolonged soak--for it was nothing less--presently got in its work. Twice Van Dyck landed swinging body blows; and though neither of these would have winded a sober man, the second left Ingerson gasping and with his jaw hanging. I thought that settled it, and it did, practically, though the bully was still game. Handling himself as coolly as if he were giving a boxing lesson on a gymnasium floor, Van Dyck landed again and again, and each blow was sent home with an impact that sounded like the kick of a mule. Ingerson stood up to it as long as he could, and when his wind was gone he went into a clinch. Bonteck broke the clinch with a volley of short-arm jabs that was little less than murderous, and when he was hammered out of the clinch, Ingerson staggered and went down. I looked to see him stay down, but he didn't. After a moment of breath-catching he was up and at it again, and it took three more of the well-planted body blows to drive him into a second clinch. As before, he failed to pinion Van Dyck's right arm, and I made sure he tried to set his teeth in Van Dyck's shoulder. At this, Bonteck shifted his short-arm jabs from the ribs and swung upon the unguarded jaw; whereupon Ingerson lost his grip and curled up on the ground like some huge worm that had been stepped on. Van Dyck stood over him, breathing hard. "Have you had enough?" he demanded; and when the vanquished one made some sort of grunting acknowledgment, Bonteck brought water from the near-by spring in a folded leaf of a giant begonia and held it while Ingerson struggled to his knees and bathed the battered jaw. "Now I'll get you your whiskey," said Van Dyck shortly; and leaving Ingerson to dabble his hands in the cooling water, he went aside into the jungle, returning after a minute or so with a case-bottle. "Here you are," he said, giving the bottle to the beaten bully; "take it and make a brute of yourself, if that's what you want to do." And then I had to hurry to be before Bonteck in the camp clearing; to be in my place beside the handful of night fire before he should return and catch me out of it. For I had no notion of marring the perfect joy of victory which I knew must be filling his soul. After this there were other days merging slowly into weeks; days of back-slippings into deeper depths of the primitive, a retrogradation in which we all participated more or less; days in which we stolidly maintained the signal fires at either extremity of the island and wore out the dragging hours as best we could, scanning the horizon for the coming sail of rescue, though each succeeding day with less hope of seeing it, I think. More and more markedly the conventions withdrew into a past which was daily growing to seem more like life in a former avatar than a reality once ours to possess. From merely slipping aside now and again, the masks were carelessly dropped and suffered to remain where they fell. Seen in the new perspective, there were many surprising changes, and not all of them were disappointing. For example: Mrs. Eager Van Tromp, in her normal state a good lady driven to distraction by her efforts to hold her footing on the social ladder and so to marry her daughters adequately, became, _en séquestre_, the good-natured, plain-spoken mother of us all, and a past mistress in the fine art of camp cooking--a specialty in which she was ably seconded by all three of her daughters, also, when she would permit it, by Mrs. Sanford, Annette Grey and Conetta. Courageous fortitude best describes the change that had come over Madeleine Barclay. With her irritable father to placate and wait upon, and with Ingerson's attitude toward her coming to be that of blunt possessorship, she was by turns the patient nurse to the malingerer and the cheerful heartener of the rest of us. Never, in all those depressing days of hope deferred, did I hear her complain; and always she had a steadying word for the despairing ones: if a ship didn't come for us to-day, it would come to-morrow, and into the most dejected she could put new life--for the moment, at least. In John Grey and Annette, and in the professor and his wife, the changes were the least marked. For the newly married couple nothing much seemed to matter so long as they had each other. Once or twice, indeed, I surprised Grey with a look in his eyes that told of the dread undercurrent that must have been underlying his every thought of the future and what it might hold for Annette, but that was all. And as for the older couple--well, perhaps they had attained to a higher and serener plane than any to which we younger ones could climb. Day in and day out, when he was not doing his apportioned share of the common camp tasks, the professor was immersed to the eyes in a study of the lush flora of the island, thumbing a little pocket Botany until its leaves were worn and frayed with much turning. And where he wandered, his wife wandered with him. In Miss Mehitable, too, a transformation of a sort was wrought. For many days she held sourly aloof and had bitter words for Van Dyck, and black looks for me when by any chance I was able to deprive her for a time, long or short, of Conetta's caretaking and coddling. But with the lapse of time I fancied that even this crabbed lady was beginning to lose her sense of the mere money distinctions, and I was rash enough to say as much to Conetta on a day when I was so fortunate as to secure her for a companion in the signal-fire watch which Bonteck still made us maintain. "You shouldn't say such things about poor Aunt Mehitable," was the reproof I got. "This is a very terrible experience for her--as it would be for any woman of her age--and she is really more than half sick." "Don't mistake me," I made haste to say. "I meant it wholly in a congratulatory sense." "She has changed," Conetta admitted, adding: "But dear me! we have all changed." "'All the world's queer, excepting thee and me, and sometimes even thee's a little queer'," I quoted. "What changes have you remarked--particularly?" "For one, Major Terwilliger is just a selfish, peevish old man, utterly impossible to live with," she said calmly. "Amen to that. Yet, one of these days you will probably have to reckon with him as a member of your household. Go on." She went on, paying no attention to what I had said about householding the major. "The professor is a dear, just as you'd expect him to be, and so is Mrs. Professor. Annette is as brave as brave, and the way she is keeping up is only equaled by Jack's adorable care of her, which is at the bottom of his constant breezy assurances that each day will be the last of our Crusoeing." "And Billy?" I prompted. "Billy is a dear, too. He has changed less than any one, I think. Yesterday, at supper-time, he nearly broke my heart. Perhaps you remember that he got up and went away while we were eating, saying that he'd forgotten something. A few minutes later I went back to the spring to get some fresh water for Aunt Mehitable and found him sharing his supper with Tige. He'd heard what Major Terwilliger had said about our wasting food on the dog when we'd probably need it ourselves. Wouldn't that make you weep?" "The dog is much more worthy of his rations than the major is of what he consumes," I averred. "Tige is at least willing to do his best if anybody will show him how. Any more transmogrifications?" "Lots of them. Possibly you've noticed that Mrs. Van Tromp no longer tries to shoo Billy away from Edie. That's a miracle in itself. Then there is Madeleine: I have always thought her rather--um--well, you know; rather stand-offish and maybe a bit self-centered. Dick, she is an angel! The way she devotes herself, body and soul, to that father of hers, and still finds time and the heart to chirk the rest of us up, is beyond all praise." "You can't get a quarrel out of me on that score," I returned. "Madeleine is all that you say she is, and more. As for her father, I guess we can pass him up. Between us two, he is no more sick than I am. And I don't believe he has changed a particle; we are merely coming to know him better as he really is, and always has been." "I have known him for a long time," Conetta said thoughtfully. Then she agreed with me: "We'll leave him out; he cancels himself on the minus side of the equation, as you used to say of certain people we knew in the old days at home." I wasn't half sure enough of myself to be willing to have her drag in the old days, so I urged her to go on with her cataloguing of our fellow castaways, saying: "You haven't completed the list yet." "There is one more to be omitted--Hobart Ingerson," she said soberly, with a shadow of deep disgust coming into her eyes. "Will Madeleine omit him?" I asked quickly. "If she doesn't--after what we've been compelled to see and feel and endure! Dick, it's dreadful; simply dreadful!" "Yet she will marry him," I insisted--purely to hear what my companion would say to that. "It is unbelievable. What possible motive could she have in doing such an unspeakable thing?" "A few minutes ago you called her an angel; perhaps it will be the angelic motive. Her father needs money; needs a very considerable sum of money, and needs it badly. She knows of the need--though I think she doesn't know the immediate and exciting cause of it--and she also knows that Ingerson is willing to buy and pay." "How perfectly horrible!" said my watchmate, with a shudder. And then: "What a pity it is that Madeleine's money was all swallowed up in that bank failure out West." I smiled when she said that. Madeleine's fortune hadn't gone in any bank failure, neither out West nor back East. This was only another of Holly Barclay's plausible little fictions. "You mean?--" I suggested. "I mean that if she had money of her own she might buy her freedom. I imagine it is purely a financial matter with Mr. Holly Barclay. If she could only find some of the Spaniards' gold--find it for herself so that it would belong to her.... Wouldn't that be splendid!" This was something entirely new to me, and I said: "What gold is this you are talking about?" She looked around at me with wide-open eyes. "Why--haven't you heard?" Then: "Oh, I remember; Bonteck was telling us the story last evening, while you and the professor were out at the other signal fire." And thereupon she repeated the old tale of the siege and wreck of the Spanish galleon in Queen Elizabeth's reign, with the tradition of the hidden treasure whose hiding place the survivors had refused to betray--paying for their refusal with their lives. "Of course, that is only a sea yarn--one of the many that are told about those old days and the doings in them," was my comment. "You knew that while you were listening to it, didn't you?" "Oh, yes; I supposed it wasn't true. I kept telling myself that Bonteck was only trying to start some new interest that would keep us from going stark mad over this wretched imprisonment, and the watching and waiting that never amounts to anything. It's serving a purpose, too. Most of the young ones are turning treasure hunters--going in couples. Jerry Dupuyster was trying to persuade Beatrice to slip away just as we left the camp. I heard him." That small reference to Jerry and his disloyalty--which was becoming daily more and more apparent, and which I may have omitted to mention--moved me as one of the Yellowstone Park geysers is said to be moved by the dropping into it of a bar of soap. "One of these fine days I'm going to beat Jerry Dupuyster until his best friend wouldn't recognize him," I said savagely. Conetta laughed; the silvery little laugh that I was once besotted enough to believe that she kept especially for me. "There goes your temper again. That is one thing that hasn't changed," she said. And then: "Poor Jerry! You'd have to have one hand tied behind you, wouldn't you?--just to be reasonably fair, you know." There had been a time when I should have admitted that her gibe hit the mark, but that was before the transformed--or transforming--Jerry had been revealed to me. "Nothing like that," I said. "He may not have confided it to you, but Jerry is a man of his hands. Hasn't he ever shown you the medal he won in England?" She shook her head. "There are lots of things Jerry hasn't shown me--yet." "Well, he has the medal, and it says he was the top-notcher in his class in some London boxing club. I give him credit for that; but just the same, there have been times during the past few days when I've had a curious longing to see how near I could come to throwing him bodily across the lagoon." Again she said, "Poor Jerry!" and had the calm assurance to ask me what he had done to incur my ill will. "Done!" I exclaimed. "What hasn't he done? If he thinks he is going to be allowed to play fast and loose with you for a chit of a girl like Beatrice Van Tromp----" Once more her silvery laugh interrupted. "Beatrice will be twenty-three on her next birthday. She is quite well able to fight her own battles, Mr. Dickie Preble." "Oh, confound it all; you know what I mean!" I fumed hotly. "He has asked you to marry him, hasn't he?" "He has," she replied quite calmly. "Well, isn't that enough?" "Don't be silly," she said. "You must try to control that dreadful temper of yours. You're miles too touchy, Dickie, dear." That remark was so true that I was constrained to wrench the talk aside from Jerry and the temperamental things by main strength. "This treasure-hunting business," I said. "I'm wondering if that is what Bonteck has had on his mind? He has been acting like a man half out of his senses for the past few days. Surely you have noticed it?" "Yes; and I've been setting it down as one of the most remarkable of the changes we have been talking about. You know how he was at first; he seemed to take everything as a matter of course, and was able to calm everybody's worries. But lately, as you say, he has been acting like a man with an unconfessed murder on his soul. I was so glad when he told us that galleon story last night. He was more like himself." "He feels his responsibility, naturally," I suggested, "and it grows heavier the longer we are shut up here. While I think very few of us blame him personally for what has happened to us, he can't help feeling that if he hadn't planned the cruise and invited us, the thing wouldn't have happened at all." "Of course; anybody would feel that way," she agreed, and after that she fell silent. The weather on this day of our morning watch under the western palm-tree signal staff was much like that of all the other days; superlatively fine, and with the sun's warmth delightfully tempered by the steady fanning of the breeze which was tossing miniature breakers over the comb of the outer reef. Conetta's gaze was fixed upon the distant horizon, and when I looked around I saw that her eyes were slowly filling with tears. We had been comrades as well as lovers in the old days; which was possibly why I took her hand and held it, and why she did not resent the new-old caress. "Tell me about it," I urged. "You used to be able to lean upon me once, Conetta, dear." "It's just the--the loneliness, Dick," she faltered, squeezing the tears back. "We've all been dropping the masks and showing what we really are; but there is one mask that we never drop--any of us. We laugh and joke, and tell one another that to-morrow, or the next day at the very farthest, will see the end of this jolly picnic on Pirates' Hope. But really, in the bottom of our hearts, we know that it may never end--only with our lives. Isn't that so?" I did not dare tell her the bald truth; that it might, indeed, come to a life-and-death struggle with starvation before our slender chance of rescue should materialize. "I don't allow myself to think of that," I said quickly--and it was a lie out of the whole cloth. "And you mustn't let your small anchor drag, either, Connie, girl." "I know; but I can't help hearing--and seeing. This morning early, before most of them were up, I saw Billy and Jack Grey trying to make some fishing lines and hooks; they were jollying each other about the fun they were going to have whipping the lagoon for a change of diet for us. And yesterday I happened to overhear the professor telling Bonteck that he had made a careful search of the island for the edible roots that grow wild in the tropics, and hadn't been able to find any. Naturally, I knew at once what these things meant. The provisions are running low." I nodded. It didn't seem worth while to try to lie to her. "How far has it spread?" I asked. "Mrs. Van Tromp has been trying to keep the scarcity in the background. Does any one else know?" "I can't say. But I do know that Mrs. Van Tromp is anxious to hide it from her girls--and from Madeleine." "Why from Madeleine in particular?" Again Conetta let her honest eyes look fairly into mine. "Because Bonteck will not have Madeleine told. He means to spare her to the very last, no matter how much she has to waste upon her father's finicky appetite. Only this morning, she had to throw his entire breakfast away--after he'd messed with it and spoiled it--and get him another one!" This was growing serious; much more serious than I had suspected; and I made a mental resolve to get the men of our party together on a short-rations basis at once. We had been hideously reckless with our stores; no one could deny that. "This smudge will smoke for an hour or so longer," I pointed out, rising and helping Conetta to her feet. "Suppose we take a walk around on the south beach and look over toward my old stamping ground in Venezuela." She made no objection, and once we were in motion we kept on, since the southern horizon was just as likely to yield the hopeful sign for which we were straining our eyes as any other. I am morally certain that I had no hunch to prompt the change of view-point, and if my companion had, she didn't mention it. Nevertheless, when we had measured something less than half the length of the island, tramping side by side in sober silence over the white sands, the thing we had looked for in vain through so many weary hours appeared, and we both saw it at the same instant--the long, low smoke trail of a steamer blackening the line where sea and sky came together. There was nothing to be done; absolutely nothing that we could do to attract the attention of those people who were just out of sight below the blurred horizon. For so long as we could distinguish the slowly vanishing harbinger of rescue we stood transfixed, hardly daring to breathe, hoping against hope that the steamer's course was laid toward us instead of away from us. But when the black of the smoke trail had faded to gray, and the gray became so faint that it was no longer separable from the slight haze of the sky-line, Conetta turned and clung to me, sobbing like a hurt and frightened child. It was too much, and I took her in my arms and comforted her, as I had once had the right to do. And at that climaxing moment, out of the jungle thicketing behind us came Jerry Dupuyster and Beatrice Van Tromp. Beatrice was laughing openly, and on Jerry's face there was an inane smile that made me wish very heartily to kill him where he stood. X THE BONES OF THE "SANTA LUCIA." CONETTA'S assertion, made in half-confidence to me, to the effect that Bonteck's attitude had changed, had ample backgrounding in the fact, and the cause--at least, so it appeared to me--was a sharp and growing anxiety. Time and again I had surprised him sweeping the horizon with the field-glass, which was the only thing he had taken from his cabin stateroom when Lequat had come for us; and while there was nothing especially remarkable about this, I remembered that he had heretofore been turning this duty carelessly over to the various watchers at the signal fires. To be sure, the diminishing supply of eatables was a sufficient cause for any amount of anxiety, but I could not help thinking that there was something even bigger than the prospective food shortage gnawing at him. And that conclusion was confirmed on the day after Conetta and I had seen the steamer smoke, when I came upon him sitting on the beach at the farthest extremity of the island, with his head in his hands--a picture of the deepest dejection. But with all this, he was still unremitting in his efforts to keep us from stagnating and slipping into that pit of despair which always yawns for the shipwrecked castaway. His revival of the legendary tale of the old Spanish plate ship, with its sequel of the starving crew and the buried treasure, was one of the expedients; and though gold was the one thing for which our marooned ship's company had the least possible use, the story served an excellent purpose. Treasure-trove became, as one might say, the stock joke of the moment. Even the Sanfords went strolling about the island, prodding with sticks in the soft sand and turning up the fallen leaves in the wood; and Grey proposed jocularly that we stake off the beach in the vicinity of the skeleton wreck of the old galleon and fall to digging systematically, each on his own mining claim. It was while this treasure-hunting diversion was holding the center of the stage that a thing I had been anticipating came to pass. Van Dyck suddenly broke over the host-and-guest barriers and read the riot act to Holly Barclay. I happened to be within earshot at the cataclysmic moment--it was one of the rare moments when Madeleine wasn't dancing attendance upon the sham invalid--and what Van Dyck said to Barclay was quite enough, I thought, to kill any possible chance he might have had as a suitor, with a father who stood ready to purchase immunity from just punishment at the price of his daughter's happiness. "You are acting like a spoiled child, Barclay; that is the plain English of it," was Bonteck's blunt charge. "You are not sick, and if you were, it would be no excuse for the way you are tying your daughter down. Hereafter there will be a new deal. Madeleine must have some time every day for exercise and recreation." "She won't take it," retorted the malingerer. "She will if you tell her to; and you are going to insist upon it." "I won't be bullied by you, Bonteck Van Dyck! You haven't anything to say--after the way you've let us in for this hellish nightmare. What business is it of yours if Madge chooses to make things a little less unbearable for me?" "I am making it my business, and what I say goes as it lies. You turn Madeleine loose for her bit of freedom mornings and evenings. If you don't, I shall tell her what I know about her cousin's fortune, and what you have done with it." Barclay crumpled up like a man hit in the stomach by a soft-nosed bullet, and the faded pink in his cheeks turned to a sickly copper yellow. "Don't!" he gasped. "For God's sake, don't do that, Van Dyck! She may go--I'll make her go. I--I'm a sick man, I tell you, and you're trying to kill me! Go away and let me alone!" Van Dyck came out of the palm clump where Barclay's hammock was swung--and found me eavesdropping. "That was a piker's trick--listening in on me, Dick," he remonstrated half-impatiently. But, after all, I think he was glad he had a witness to Barclay's promise. As may be imagined, Madeleine got her freedom, or some measure of it, immediately. It was Alicia Van Tromp who told me that a miracle had been wrought. "I think Mr. Holly Barclay must be near his end," she said, with fine scorn. "He is insisting that Madeleine go for a walk. Wouldn't that shock you?" When Madeleine made her appearance, I looked to see Bonteck monopolize her, as he had earned the right to do; but what he did was to thrust me into the breach. "You heard what I said to Holly Barclay and you know why I said it," was the way he put it up to me. "Madeleine hasn't been out of shouting distance of her father's hammock half a dozen times since the night we were marooned. Trot her all around the shop and make her think of something different. I'll square things for you with Conetta." "You are about three years too late to square me with Conetta," I said sourly. "Have you anything else up your sleeve?" "Several things; but I'm not going to show them to you just now. Be a good sport and help me out. I'd do as much for you, any day; in fact, I've done a good bit more as it is, if you only knew it. Here she comes; don't let Ingerson get in ahead of you. Take her around the south beach and come back the other way. Jump for it, you crabbed old woman-hater! It isn't every day in the week that you have such a privilege jammed down your throat." It was no very difficult task--the capturing of Madeleine. She fell in promptly and amiably with my suggestion that we go on an exploring tramp around the beach line of the island, and I took her the roundabout way, as Bonteck had directed, to make her release last as long as possible. I don't recall what we talked about at first, only I know that it was all perfectly innocuous. We had common ground enough--the people we both knew at home, a summer fortnight on the North Shore when she was a débutante and we were fellow guests in the same house group, a winter tour in California when we had both chanced to be members of the same party. But inevitably, and in spite of all I could do to turn it aside, the talk eventually drifted around to the present with its more than dubious possibilities. "Conetta tells me that you were once ship-wrecked on this same bit of coral, Dick," was the way she switched from the North Shore house party to Pirates' Hope. "Doesn't it seem a most remarkable coincidence that you should have the misfortune to have to repeat that experience?" "Compared with the other experience, this is a vacation pleasure camp," I said, trying to keep the serious aspect of things in the background. "We came ashore in a hurricane, the six of us who were not drowned, and had to live on cocoanuts and raw fish. We hadn't even the makings of a fire." "How dreadful it must have been!" she exclaimed. "I should think that the memory of that terrible time would color every minute of the day for you now, with all the reminders there must be." "Not a bit of it," I denied cheerfully. "'The mill doesn't grind with the water that has passed,' you know. And, besides, the _Mary Jane's_ survivors were taken off in due time--which we may take as an earnest that we shall be picked up, sooner or later." We had reached the extreme eastern point of the islet by this time, and she stopped and faced me. "Are you really believing that, Dick?" she asked, with a little trembling of the pretty lips that she could not wholly control, though a blind man might have seen that she was trying to, hard enough. "Of course I am." "I'm afraid you wouldn't admit it to me if you weren't. You see, I can't forget that those others stayed here and starved--long ago, you know--the crew of the _Santa Lucia_." "You have been listening to Bonteck's ghost stories," I jested. "You mustn't take them for matters of fact." "But there _is_ a wreck," she insisted; "I mean besides the one on the reef opposite our camp." "Oh, yes; there is a bare suggestion of an older wreck," I said. "We'll go and have a look at it, if you like. It's on the north beach, and we can go back that way. Would you care to see it?" She nodded, and we strolled on in sober silence for another half-mile. I was afraid I was not making much of a success of the job of keeping her spirits up, and was beginning to wish very heartily that I had made Bonteck do his own jollying. Just why she should be looking upon the blue side of things at last, after she had been the one to do most of the cheering in the past, I couldn't imagine at first, but a bit later the solution--or a possible solution--came to me. Perhaps the invalid, knowing that he was going to lose some of his hold upon her through Van Dyck's insistence upon more freedom for her, had been pressing the Ingerson claim still harder. The wreck of the galleon--if, indeed, the few bits of barnacled timber and rusting ironwork could, by any stretch of imagination, be dated back to a period so remote as that of the conquest of Peru--was in the bight of a little bay, well sheltered by the tallest of the palms, which effectually screened it from our camp end of the island. It wanted possibly half an hour of sunset when we came upon the few dumb relics, and the shadows of the palms were making weird traceries upon the white sand of the beach. Assuming that the largest of the charred and blackened "bones" was the stem of the ancient wreck, it was to be inferred that the ship had entered the lagoon bay through the seaward opening in the outer reef, had been beached bows on, and had so lain and burned, or rotted. Assuming, again, that the vessel had really been one of the old, high-bowed galleons, it was apparent that the beaching had been done with considerable force; a drive so hard that the bowsprit of the ship must have been thrust like a huge pointing finger into the jungle thicketing, which, at this point, ran well down to the edge of the lagoon. It was Van Dyck who made this hypothetical platting of the beaching of the vessel for us; Bonteck himself, who had slipped ghost-like out of the palm shadows to join us while we were trying to trace the skeleton outline of the ship's timbering in the obliterating sands. "I've been all over this ground before," he explained, and for once in a way he seemed to have thrown off the burden, whatever it was, that had been weighing him down. "More than that, I've waded around here when the tide was out and made good on some of the guesses." "Are you counting upon finding the lost treasure?" I joked; and he took me up promptly. "Why not? Stranger things than that have happened, haven't they?" "You don't really believe that part of the story, do you, Bonteck?" said Madeleine, with an amused smile. "All or none," he answered cheerfully. "And, again, I say, why not? Don't you want to take a few shares in the Great Galleon Treasure Company, Unlimited?" I thought it a happy circumstance that she could meet him playfully in the open field of badinage. "Of course I do," she returned. "If I had a spade, I'd dig somewhere. Only I shouldn't know where to dig." "Suppose we figure out the probabilities," Bonteck suggested, and if his enthusiasm wasn't real, it was an exceedingly good imitation. "The first requirement, of course, is to take the old story at its face value. Just imagine Sir Francis Drake's _Pasha_, or it might have been the _Swan_, out yonder on the other side of the reef, pouring hot shot into the poor, old, stranded _Santa Lucia_ here on the beach. The Spaniards would take the treasure out over the bows, because that would be the only sheltered place, don't you see? Does that suggest anything?" I think I have already said that Miss Barclay's gift, or rather one of them, was an acutely responsive mentality; or if I haven't, I meant to. She was standing with Van Dyck upon the exact spot the Spaniards--real or mythical--must have stood to be out of cannon-shot reach in unloading the treasure. Without a moment's hesitation she took up the thread of Bonteck's imaginings. "If they started from here they would run for the nearest woods, wouldn't they?--keeping their ship between them and the English cannons. That is what I should have done." And then, purely in a spirit of keeping up the fiction, I am sure: "Let us follow them and see where they went." Bonteck agreed at once. "Come on," he said; and the three of us set out to cross the island in a diagonal line, looking back from time to time to keep the fancied direction of the Spaniards retreating from their burning ship. It was in a little open space in the midst of a palm and palmetto thicket that we paused. "This is the place," Madeleine announced calmly. "Meaning to hide our treasure chest, we wouldn't go all the way across to the other beach. We'd hurry and scrape away the leaves and things here in the thickest part of the woods, and dig a hole, and----" "Well?" said Bonteck, with what seemed a certain breathless eagerness; "Go on and pick out your place. We'll dig for you--Preble and I." "You haven't anything to dig with," she laughed, and then the laugh died, and I saw her eyes widen and her lip begin to tremble. But in an instant she was laughing again. "I believe I had almost hypnotized myself," she confessed, with a little grimace of self-consciousness. "Do you see that white stone over there under the vines? The thought came to me like a flash, '_That stone was put there to mark the spot!_' You have been making it all too uncannily real, Bonteck." Van Dyck crossed the little open space and pulled away a mass of trailing vines so that we could examine the stone. It was a fragment of white coral the size, and approximately the shape, of a ship's capstan. "It's a bit odd, anyway," Bonteck commented, still apparently in the grip of the curious eagerness. "There are no loose stones anywhere else on the island, so far as I know, excepting the small pieces we used in building our camp fireplace. You'd say this is a chunk of the outer reef, wouldn't you, Dick?" "Why--yes, possibly," I answered. "But in that case it must have been quarried and carried ashore in some way, and----" Bonteck straightened up and turned quickly to Madeleine. "Suppose we try to be serious for a minute or so, if we can," he offered, with what appeared to me to be forced soberness. "There is about one chance in a hundred million that there really was a buried treasure. That hundred millionth chance is yours, Madeleine. Neither Dick nor I would have noticed this piece of coral hidden under the vines if you hadn't pointed it out. Shall we turn it over for you?" "I should never forgive you if you didn't," she laughed back. "All right. But it must be distinctly understood that if there should happen to be a gold mine under it, the treasure is all yours. Do you agree to that?" "Of course it will be mine," she answered in cheerful mockery. "I'll take Dick, here, for my witness. He will testify that it was I who first saw the stone--won't you, Dick? But we must make haste. It is growing dark, and I must go back to father." We heaved at the coral boulder, Bonteck and I, and rolled it aside out of its bed in the soft, sandy soil. I was about to say that we couldn't dig very far with only our bare hands for tools, when Bonteck produced a huge clasp-knife of the kind that sailors carry. "Where shall we dig--right where the stone lay?" he asked, with a queer grin. "Right exactly where the stone lay," said the young woman, charmingly precise and mandatory. We went down on our knees and fell to work as soberly as if the entire thing were not a poor flimsy bit of comedy designed to push the growing anxieties and fear tremblings a trifle farther into the background. Bonteck loosened the friable soil with the blade of his big knife, and I scooped it out, dog-fashion, with my hands. In a few minutes we had a hole knee-deep, and as we went on enlarging it, I saw, or thought I saw, a strange transformation taking place in Van Dyck. The playful manner had fallen away from him like a cast-off garment. His jaw was set and he was breathing hard. And when he took his turns in the little pit he dug like a madman. It was not until after we had dug down to the pure white sand of the subsoil that he gave over and turned to Madeleine with a look in his eyes that mirrored, or seemed to mirror, a shock of half-paralyzing astoundment. I had never suspected him of having any histrionic ability, but if he were not really shocked, he was certainly giving a faultless rendering of a man completely dazed. "It's--it's gone!" he exclaimed mechanically. "You've been robbed, Madeleine; it was yours--all yours, by the right of discovery--and--and it's gone!" "What sheer nonsense!" she retorted lightly. "You are the one who is hypnotized now, Bonteck." And then, carrying out the little comedy to its proper curtain: "Of course, it is very singular that we shouldn't find the hidden treasure; singular, and dreadfully disappointing--after one has worked one's imagination up to the point of believing anything and everything. But we've had our laugh out of it, and that is worth while, isn't it? Now we must really be getting back to the others. It will be dark before long, and we mustn't keep Mrs. Van Tromp's dinner waiting." Van Dyck was standing at the edge of the hole, still figuring as one helplessly dumfounded--and I wondered why he persisted in throwing himself so extravagantly into the part-playing. While Madeleine was speaking, I stooped to pass some of the sand of the pit bottom through my fingers. It was almost as fine as flour, and quite as white, but upon closer inspection I saw that it was flecked in spots with bits of black humus--humus like that formed by well-rotted wood. "Hold on a minute," I said, seized suddenly with a notion that was to the full as absurd as that which had led us to follow the imagined trail of the Spaniards retreating from their burning ship; and catching up Van Dyck's dropped clasp-knife I stepped into the shallow hole we had dug. There is no twilight to speak of in the tropics, and the sunset glow was fading rapidly, but there was still light enough to show the place in the pit bottom where the bits of black humus were thickest. At sight of them I became, in my turn, a foolish madman, postulating a frantic gopher with a time limit set in which he may hope to outdig the scratching dogs in his burrow. But there was at least a saving grain of method in my madness. Every fresh stab of the knife brought up more of the rotted wood, and presently the blade struck something hard and unyielding. "Hold your breath, you two," I gasped, and groping hastily in the loosened sand with my hands I found the hard thing that the knife blade had struck; found and unearthed it and straightened up to lay it at Madeleine's feet. It was a rudely cast ingot of dull-colored metal, and its weight, in proportion to its size, was sufficient proof of its quality. It was unmistakably a billet of gold. XI FINDERS KEEPERS FOR the next few minutes after the discovery of the bar of gold I think no one of the three of us was wholly sane. Van Dyck and I fell over each other in our eagerness to find out if there were more of them, and as we dug deep in the treasure grave Madeleine knelt at the edge of it and was to the full as daft as either of us. Digging and groping by turns, we flung out bar after bar of the precious metal until there was a heap of forty of them piled up in the little glade. Forty was the exact number. When it was complete we found that we had penetrated to the under-layer of humus which told us that we had come to the rotted bottom of the chest in which the treasure had been buried. I think Madeleine was the first to break the spell of breathless silence that had fallen upon us while we were digging and dog-scratching in the soft sand. "It can't be true! I can't believe it!" she said, over and over again. "We are dreaming; we _must_ be dreaming--all of us!" Bonteck had hoisted himself out of the pit and was poising one of the gold bars in his hands. "It is a gloriously substantial dream, Madeleine, dear," he said gravely, ignoring me as if I were deaf and dumb and blind, or altogether of no account. "For a rough guess, I should say that these bars will weigh thirty-five or forty pounds apiece, if not more--say a quarter of a million, in round numbers, for the lot. It isn't a fortune, dear, but it will serve to--to buy you----" She broke in with a frantic little cry of protest. "But it isn't mine, Bonteck! It's--it's----" It was at this crisis that Van Dyck deigned to take notice of me as being present and able to answer to my name. "She says it isn't hers, Preble. Tell her; make her understand." "It is most unquestionably yours, Madeleine," I assured her. "You will remember that Bonteck told you there was one chance in a hundred million. That chance has won out, and it has fallen to you, incredible as it may seem. By all the laws of the treasure seekers, the find is yours." "But it must have belonged to some one, at some time!" she objected, honest to the core. I nodded. "It really belonged to the poor Peruvians from whom the Spaniards looted it. We are three or four centuries too late to restore it to the unfortunate Incas. I'm afraid you'll have to take it and keep it for your own." "Of course she will keep it!" Bonteck thrust in. "The only question is, what shall be done with it now?" At this we held a hurried consultation over the disposition of the discovery, with Madeleine insisting that we two ought at least to share the miraculous treasure with her. "Dick hates money, and I have too much of it, as it is," was the manner in which Bonteck disposed of the sharing suggestion; and then we decided hastily upon two reasonable immediacies; we would rebury the gold, replace the coral boulder, and leave things as nearly as might be as we had found them. And for the second reasonable conclusion it was agreed that we should say nothing to any of the other castaways at present. It could do no good to tell them; and, as Bonteck sagely argued, it might do a good bit of harm by stirring up things at a time when we all needed to sit tight in the boat. We were working by starlight by the time we got the hole filled up and the chunk of coral rolled back into place, and we could hardly see well enough to be certain that we had removed all traces of our late activities. Hoping that we had, and promising ourselves that we would return in daylight to make sure, we set out upon the shortest way back to the camp, which was along the north beach. Madeleine hadn't said anything more about the ownership of the treasure while we were reinterring it, but now she began again. "I hope you're not sweeping me off my feet--you two," she said. "I still can't make myself believe that I have any better right to that gold than you have--or as much." "Of course you have," Bonteck insisted. "Didn't you point out the stone to us, I'd like to know?" "But I should never have been there to point it out if you hadn't shown the way," she asserted. "We needn't split hairs over that part of it," I put in. "And your argument doesn't hold, at that. It was your suggestion that we follow the trail, or the imaginary trail, from the old wreck to the--also imaginary--place where the Spaniards would be likely to hide their gold. Don't you remember?" "Oh," she laughed; "if I'm to be held accountable for every silly thing I say----" Once more Bonteck went over the equities patiently and painstakingly. We, he and I, were only bystanders. In no possible viewing of the circumstances could either of us lay claim to any essential part in the miraculous discovery. Waxing eloquently argumentative, he made the establishment of her right and title to the gold fill up the entire time of our return, and if he didn't succeed in fully convincing her, he was at least able to talk her down and silence her. At the camp under the palms at the western extremity of our kingdom we found wild excitement in the saddle, and our delayed return passed unremarked. Just at sunset, Billy Grisdale and Edith Van Tromp, who had been on watch at the western signal fire, had seen the smoke of a steamer. They had lost the hopeful sight in the gathering dusk, and had raced in to spread the good news; racing back again almost immediately, with a snatched supper in their hands, to build the signal fire higher. With this announcement to upset monotonous routine, the meal, which, for the sake of preserving the most foolish of the civilized conventions, we were still calling "dinner," was late, and it was eaten by the more sanguine as the children of Israel ate their first Passover, in haste and with staff in hand. Both Billy and Edith had been hopefully positive that the ship they had seen was headed toward the island, and the bare prospect of an early rescue was enough to key excitement to the unnerving pitch. But as time passed and nothing happened, the inevitable reaction set in, and I think we all sank deeper into the pit of depression for the sudden awakening of hope. While Annette and Alicia and Beatrice Van Tromp were clearing away the remains of the belated meal, Grey drew me aside. "You've kept your head better than any of us, Preble," he began, "and there is a thing that ought to be threshed out before it gets any older. They are saying now that Bonteck is either crazy in his head, or else he is the greatest villain unhung." "Who is saying it?" I demanded. "I don't know where it started, but with Ingerson and the major and Barclay to reckon with, it wouldn't be very hard to trace it back to its source. The charge is that Van Dyck has been robbing the commissary--spiriting the provisions away a little at a time and hiding them out." I knew that this was true, so far as the liquors were concerned, but I kept my mouth shut about that. "What motive is assigned?" I asked. "It is only hinted at, but the hint is gruesome enough, the Lord knows. They say we are coming to the end; to a time when there will be nothing left but a survival of the strongest. And they say, also, that if Bonteck isn't a bit off his head, he is cold-bloodedly fixing things so that he will be able to outlive the remainder of us." I thrust an arm through Grey's and led him off up the beach in the direction of the bay of the Spaniards. "You're not trying to tell me that you believe any such hideous rot as that, are you?" I exploded, after we had left the camp well to the rear. "God knows, I don't want to believe it, Preble; I pointedly don't believe the villainy charge. But the other hint--that Bonteck may be losing his grip on himself: we've all noticed it; you must have noticed it. And it is scaring the women no end. It is bad enough to have Ingerson around, licking his lips and wolfing every drop of liquor he can get his hands on; to have Barclay whining, and Miss Gilmore showing her claws, and the major grabbing for a little more than his share when he thinks nobody is looking. I have been trying hard to keep Annette from seeing and hearing. She has a perfectly childish horror of crazy people, Preble, and I--and we----" he broke down and choked over the thing that he was afraid to say, and I tightened my grip on his arm. "Brace up!" I broke out harshly. "We don't have to say die until we're dead! You've got to brace up for Annette's sake. If she sees you crumbling it'll be all up with her--you know that much. Past that, you kill off this idiotic blether about Van Dyck every time you hear it. It's rot--the wildest tommyrot! Bonteck has his load to carry, and it's a good bit heavier than yours--or than mine, for that matter. He isn't losing his mind, and he hasn't been raiding the commissary. Say those two things over to yourself and to Annette until they sound real to you!" Grey pulled his arm free, and I could fancy him swallowing hard once or twice. "I want to be a man, in--in your sense of the word, Preble," he blurted out. "I used to be, I think, before--before Annette came and snuggled down into the empty place in my heart and made me see that it was up to me to carry the full cup of her sweet life without spilling a drop of it. But now--now when I look into her eyes and see the awful thing lying at the back of them--the thing that she's trying every minute of the day to keep me from seeing----" He got this far before he choked up again, and now I couldn't be savage with him--which was what he was most needing. "I know," I said, with a far keener sympathy than he suspected, for I, too, was seeing things in a pair of slate-blue eyes--eyes that were braver than Annette Grey's. "But we mustn't let down, John; we can't let down, you and I. When the pinches come, it's the man's privilege to buck up and carry the double load. That is one of the things we were made for." Then I tried to turn him aside from the most intimate of the threatenings. "About this smoke trail that the children saw: could they really tell which way it was heading?" He shook his head. "I am afraid not. They didn't see the ship; only the smoke. It was just at dusk, you know, and they wouldn't have seen anything at all but for the sunset glow in the west. It was quite dark when they came running back to the camp, and they were both so excited they couldn't talk straight." "But they did see a smoke?" "I don't know. No doubt they thought they did. But we've all been straining our eyes and stirring up the little hope blazes until I think none of us can be really certain of anything any more. I guess there wasn't any ship." "We needn't be too sure of that," I qualified. "There was a ship of some sort on the southern offing no longer ago than last Friday." And I told him what Conetta and I had seen. "And you never told us!" he said reproachfully. "It was only a disappointment, as it turned out, and sharing disappointments doesn't make them any lighter. But you may tell Annette, if you think it will help." "It will help; I'll go back to camp and do it now. Are you coming along?" At first I thought I would. Then the remembrance of what Grey had told me--about Van Dyck's newest trouble--came to oppress me, asking for solitude and some better chance of clarifying itself. "I think I'll stay here and smoke a pipe," I said; and so we parted. The pipe smoking had progressed no farther than the lighting of the match when I saw some one coming along the beach. I thought it was Grey returning to say something that he had forgotten to say, but when Billy Grisdale's dog came to sniff in friendly fashion at me, I knew that the approaching figure must be Billy. "Jack Grey told me where I'd be likely to find you," said the infant, coming up to cast himself down upon the sand at my side. "Don't happen to have another pinch of tobacco in your inside pocket, do you?" I had, and when his need was supplied he rolled a cigarette in a bit of brown paper saved from some of the provision wrappings and lighted it at the glowing dottel of my pipe. "Tough old world, isn't it?" he mourned, stretching himself out luxuriously with his hands locked under his head. "Edie and I thought we were sittin' on top of it when we saw that smoke trail just after sunset, but it was only a false alarm." "You are sure you saw a smoke?" "Oh, yes; there was no doubt about that. We could see it as long as we could see anything. But I guess we just joshed ourselves into thinking that it was coming our way." He sat up to nurse his knees and was silent for a little time. When he began again it was to say: "You know these seas better than any of us; is there any chance at all that we'll ever be taken off?... Lie down, Tige, old boy, and take it easy. There's nothing to bite in these diggings--more's the pity." I answered Billy's question cheerfully as a duty incumbent upon me, and I fancied he took the forced optimism for exactly what it was worth. While I was expatiating upon the law of lucky chances, the bull pup was refusing to lie down and take it easy; he was standing stiffly with his crooked forelegs braced and his cropped ears cocked as if at the approach of an enemy. "What is the matter with the dog, Billy?" I asked, and as I spoke, we both thought we saw the answer in the lagoon at our feet. A triangular black fin split the mirror-like surface for a brief instant, and a twist of some huge under-sea body turned the darkling water into lambent phosphorescent flames. It was not the first shark we had seen, but they seldom penetrated this far into the lagoon. "Ah!" said Billy, stroking down the rising hackles on the dog's back, "there's a quick way out of it for you, little doggie, when the clock strikes thirteen. One jump, and you'll never know what hurt you. You won't jump, eh? You're foolish, in your brain, old boy. It'll be much easier than starving to death." "Still in the doldrums, Billy?" I asked. "Who wouldn't be? But I didn't chase out here to swap glooms with you, Uncle Dick. I wanted to ask you if you believe in this wild tale of the Spaniards' buried treasure." "I'll believe anything that will help to pass the time," I replied evasively. "Huh!" he said; "that is what you might call the retort meaningless. Supposing there _was_ a treasure, and supposing you should stumble across it: would it be yours?" "Why not?" "I didn't know. I was just asking for information. You wouldn't feel obliged to chop it up into eighteen separate pieces and pass it around--like a watermelon at a picnic?" "Why should I?" "Oh, just on general principles, I thought maybe; all for one and one for all, and that sort." With the miraculous discovery of the day--and Madeleine's rights--fresh in mind, it seemed a moment in which to tread carefully. "Finders are keepers, the world over, Billy," I said. "I am a poor man, and I should probably hog the treasure if I should find it." "That's better," he returned. "We're all growing so desperately inhuman that a fellow can't tell where to draw the line any more. If I find the Spaniards' gold, you needn't expect me to whack up with you. I'm going to put my feet in the trough and keep 'em there. Come on, old doggie; let's go and hunt us a hole to burrow in. There's another day coming, or if there isn't, we shan't have anything more to worry about." He got up to go back to the camp, whistling to the dog as he moved off. For the second time the bull pup braced himself, showing his teeth and growling a bit, and this time there was no disturbance in the lagoon to account for it. But Billy whistled again and the dog started to follow his master, looking back from time to time, as if he went reluctantly; and once more I wondered what he saw or heard or smelled. As it fell out, the answer to this wondering query did not keep me waiting. Billy Grisdale's shadowy figure had barely disappeared in the down-shore distance when another and much more substantial one broke out of the jungle just behind me, and I got upon my feet to find Ingerson confronting me. "What's all this talk about things being buried?" he demanded morosely. "Listening, were you?" said I, taking small pains to keep the contempt out of my voice. He threw himself down on the sand and sat with his arms resting on his knees and his hands locked together. "I'm in hell, Preble," he muttered. Then he unclasped his hands and held one of them up. "Look at that." Dark as it was I could see the upheld hand shaking like a leaf in the wind. "What is the matter with you?" I asked. "You know well enough; I'm over the edge. Van Dyck's killing me by inches. He wants to kill me." "Liquor, you mean?" His answer was a groan. "I haven't had one good drink in three days--not enough to make one good drink. It's got me, Preble. I didn't know. I've always had it when I wanted it. If you've got a heart in you, you'll show me where he's hiding the stuff. I'll go mad if you don't." I wanted to tell him that it would be small loss to the rest of us if he should, but I didn't. As a person who is strictly the architect of his own misery, a drink maniac may command little commiseration, but his sufferings are none the less real, for all that. Sitting there on the sands, with the fires of the drunkard's Gehenna burning inside of him, Ingerson was a pitiable object. Still, remembering some of the brutal things that had been charged up to his account, and not less the cold-blooded bargain he was seeking to drive with Holly Barclay, I didn't waste much sympathy upon him. "It is a good time in which to show that you are a human being, and not a beast, Ingerson," I said. "Thus far, you've been merely a clog on the wheels, and the day is coming, if, indeed, it isn't already here, when those of us who are men will have to remember that there are nine helpless women on this island whose wants must be supplied before ours are." He looked up at me. "You mean that the food's going--or gone?" "Yes." He was silent for a moment, and then he laughed. It was the cracked laugh of a man on the brink. "Eighteen mouths to fill, and nothing to fill 'em with. You've said it, Preble; I'm nothing but a dead weight in the boat--a bump on a log. I'll remove one of the hungry mouths," and before I had the slightest idea of what he meant, he sprang up and hurled himself into the lagoon. Thinking that the plunge was only the mad impulse of a half-crazed drunkard denied, and hoping that a salt-water soaking would bring him to his senses, I made no move at first. But when I saw him deliberately wade out over his depth and strike out with strong swimming strokes for the reef over which the ground swell was breaking, I remembered the black fin Grisdale and I had seen and shouted a warning. "Come back here, you fool!" I called. "There's a man-eater in there! Come back, I say!" I don't suppose he heard me; if he did, he paid no attention. I confess, with decent shame, that I hesitated when it became evident that he meant to carry out his threat of effacing himself. His life was of little benefit, to himself or to others, and if he lived, it would only be to add the care of a madman to our other calamities. I have been glad a thousand times since that this was merely a passing thought. The real motivating impulse came from the sight of a V-shaped ripple racing diagonally across the lagoon to intercept the swimmer; a ripple plainly discernible on the starlit surface of the reef-bound inlet. It was the shark again. What happened after that will remain a nightmare to me as long as memory serves. I was stripping my coat and kicking off my shoes when Van Dyck came bursting out of the wood behind me. "Who is that out there?" he gasped. "Ingerson--he's gone off his head!" Without another word Van Dyck ran down to the shore and took the water in a clean dive. When he came up he was within arm's reach of the dipsomaniac. There was a fierce grapple and both men went under. My heart was in my mouth. I made sure the shark had taken one or the other of them. But the end was not yet. As I waded out armpit deep, splashing and making all the noise I could in the hope of scaring the great fish, two heads bobbed up a few yards away, and I saw that Bonteck had either choked or drowned the would-be suicide into submission and was swimming in with him. A few quick strokes gave me my chance to help, and together we dragged Ingerson ashore. He was half-drowned and was otherwise little more than a bedraggled wreck of a man. While we were working over him, Van Dyck explained--briefly. Edith Van Tromp had told him that she had seen Ingerson creeping into the wood on all fours, with a knife in his hand, and he--Bonteck--had followed. All day he had been suspecting that Ingerson was on the edge of delirium. "You'll have to give him some of the hair of the dog that bit him, or we'll have a frantic maniac in our midst," I said. "Is there any liquor left?" "A little. Stay with him and I'll go and get it." He was gone only a few minutes, and by the time he came back, Ingerson was able to sit up. We fed him brandy in small doses, and as the fiery stuff got in its work some degree of sanity returned. Apparently he knew quite well what he had tried to do, and was surlily regretful that the attempt had failed. "You made a bonehead play, Van Dyck," he shivered. "I was trying to do a decent thing to wind up with, and you blocked it. You'd better have let me alone." Van Dyck did not reply, and the drink maniac went on monotonously: "I wanted to wind it up. Old John B.'s got me. I didn't believe it, but the last three days have shown me where I was heading in. As long as you can keep me half lit up ... but you can't do that forever." "No," said Bonteck gravely; "this is the last bottle." Ingerson's head had fallen forward upon his breast. "One more--little nip, and then--perhaps--I--can--go--to--sleep," he mumbled; and at this we gave him the sleeping potion and in another half-minute he was dead to the world. Hard-hearted as it may seem, we made short work of disposing of him. We were a long quarter of a mile from the camp, and, short of carrying him, there was no way to get him there. So we merely dragged his limp and sodden bulk up to a little open space under the trees and left it. "I'm beginning to think he was more than half right about the bonehead play," said Van Dyck sourly as he carefully hid the last of the brandy bottles. "It is only a question of a little time--and his swigging of the last thimbleful of the stuff--when we'll have to hog-tie him in self-defense. Let's do a sentry-go around to the far end of things. We may as well dry out tramping as any other way." And it was not until he said this that I realized that we, too, were as sodden as the limp figure we had hauled up under the palms. XII BONTECK UNLOADS WALKING briskly to give our soaked clothes a chance to drip and dry out a bit, Van Dyck and I passed around the bay of the ancient wreck and in due course of time came to the heel of the sandspit in which the island terminated eastward. Here we found our signal rag hanging motionless on its tree mast, but the fire at the foot of the tree had gone out, and as our matches were wet we could not rekindle it. I proposed going back to camp for more matches, but Bonteck said no, that it was hardly worth while and, pointing to a hazy gray mist bank in the east which was slowly rising to blot out the stars in that quarter of the heavens, he added: "That cloud means weather; most likely the kind that would put the fire out if we should make one. If you're not too chilly, sit down and put your back to a tree. There's a thing that needs to be hammered out between us, Dick, before we get any farther along." I found a place where the sand was dry and warm, and sat down, and he squatted beside me. I wanted to smoke, and was absent-minded enough to fill my pipe with damp tobacco before I remembered that there were no matches. As to the chilliness, even the wet clothes merely gave the effect of a steam bath. Within the half-hour the night had grown oppressively hot and the dead air was like that of an oven. "Go ahead with your hammering," I said, adding: "There are several little matters that need explaining--from my point of view." "It's coming to you--and to the others," he returned promptly. "I've been standing it off from day to day, hoping that the explanations might be made after the fact, instead of in the thick of it. But I've about reached the end of my rope. Mrs. Van Tromp told me after dinner this evening that she could serve possibly half a dozen more meals for the eighteen of us." "Six meals; two days. We should have gone on reduced rations long ago. We've been wasting like drunken sailors." "I know it. But I kept putting that off, too. Hoping against hope, I guess you'd call it. You know what a scare it would have thrown into everybody if the food scarcity had been made public." "Quite so. But the scare will have to come now, and the suddenness of it won't make it any lighter." "That is one of the things that is grinding me, but only one. I've been carrying a pretty heavy back-load, Dick, and the time has come when I've got to shift some of it--if I'm to keep from going the way Ingerson did a little while ago. But first, a word about that treasure find we made a few hours back; you'll stand by me in that, won't you?" "In the matter of convincing Madeleine of the justice of taking the treasure for her own? Certainly." "Thanks. I thought I could count upon your help there. It is a godsend to her, Dick. Don't you see that it is?" "I see that it will enable her to pay her father out of his theft debt, and by that means to purchase her own freedom," I rejoined. Then I added: "But I can't surround the miraculous part of it, Bonteck. In fact, I'm afraid I shall have to see and handle the gold again before I can be sure I'm not dreaming--as Madeleine said we all three were. There are too many impossibilities." He was silent for a full minute before he said: "Yes, there are impossibilities--a good few of them. And yet there are not so many as there appeared to be." Another pause, and then: "Dick, I've had the shock of my life." "I can believe it," I said; "so had I. But just what do you mean?" Once more he seemed to be trying to shape things in his mind so that they should issue in some sort of orderly array. "I'll tell you presently: that is why I wanted to get you by yourself. But there is something else that has to be told first. As I say, I've put it off as long as I can. You will want to tie a stone around my neck and heave me into the sea when you've heard what I have to say, and I shan't blame you. As the thing has turned out, I'm a cold-blooded assassin--no less." "Open confession is good for the soul," I commented, but even as I spoke, all the surmises and half-suspicions that had been troubling me for days and weeks came tumbling in to make a mental chaos where there should have been calm judgment and a fair weighing of motives. "To begin at the beginning, then," he went on doggedly. "So far as I knew at the time, there was no mutiny on board the _Andromeda_. It was a plant from start to finish. I had two objects in view. The first and craziest was the notion that I handed you that night at dinner in New Orleans--the notion of cutting out a little bunch of people from the world--my world--and making them pull off their masks. It was a barbarous idea; a crudely savage one, if you like; only I couldn't see that side of it. I meant to make it a sort of unexpected picnic, providing carefully against all of the real hardships, but at the same time letting the shock do what it might towards the unmasking." "I am trying to give you what credit I can for the carefully planned ameliorations," I said. "But that doesn't excuse your appallingly selfish motive. Go on. It was all prearranged with Goff, I take it?" "Thoughtfully prearranged. And the motive wasn't wholly selfish, as you will find out a little farther along. Goff was to steer for this island, the longitude and latitude of which, as I told you, I had obtained from the captain of the tramp steamer that rescued you and the other survivors of the _Mary Jane_, and at the critical moment there was to be a fake mutiny and a real marooning. It was by my instructions that Goff didn't appear in the marooning mix-up. I wanted him to be able to show a clean bill of health when the play was over. He was to pick his men for the mutiny demonstration and the marooning job, leaving the marooned ones to infer that he, and the handful of Americans in the engine-room and fire-hold, had been overpowered." Again I said, "Go on," and tried to hold judgment in suspense until after the evidence should all be in. "We were to be left here for three weeks, and at the end of that period the yacht was to come back and take us off; Goff with a sailor's yarn of how he had finally got the better of the rebellion and resumed his command." "Good--excellent good!" I applauded cynically. "And the three weeks were up just an even fortnight ago yesterday." "That is why I had to tell you!" he burst out. "It is killing me by inches, Dick! Something has gone wrong; something must have gone frightfully wrong. I was only stalling when I led you to believe that I didn't know Goff, personally; I do know him; I have known him for years, and I'd wager my life that he is as true as steel. I began to be scared when I found that the little black-eyed devil of an under-steward, Lequat, had been picked to play the part of the heavy villain. I couldn't imagine--I can't yet imagine--why Goff should have chosen him." Again a silence came and sat between us. While Bonteck had been talking, the night had grown still hotter and more stifling. As yet, the stars were burning in a clear sky overhead, but there was a gray, shadowy blur in the east behind which a late moon was struggling to rise. The blur, cloud-bank or a gathering fog, had been growing and extending by almost imperceptible degrees as we sat staring afar at it. In any latitude it would have presaged a change of weather; in that of our island it might well be the forerunner of a tropical storm. Still, there was no breath of air stirring, and the surface of the inclosed lagoon was like that of burnished metal. And the heat, as I have said, was terrific. "You once told me a tale about a certain fabulous sum of money that had been shipped in the _Andromeda_," I said at length. "Was that another of your romantic little inventions?" "No; I suppose I shall have to confess that part of it, as well," he returned, more than half shamefacedly, I thought. "You know the criminal trap Holly Barclay has set for himself by squandering young Vancourt's fortune, and how he was purposing to get out of the trap. It is precisely as I told you when we spoke of it before; he is ready to sell Madeleine to the highest bidder. That is a pretty brutal way to put it, but stripped of all the civilized masqueradings that is exactly what it amounts to. And he had already given the option to Hobart Ingerson; I know it--knew it before I left New York. Do you get that?" "Yes." "I nearly went wild trying to think up some scheme that would break the Ingerson combination and at the same time pass muster with Madeleine. She loves me, Dick; she has admitted it; and if this miserable money tangle were out of the way, she'd marry me. But she wouldn't let me buy her freedom; she said if she had to be sold like a slave on the auction block, it certainly wouldn't be to the man she loved. God bless her sweet soul! I don't blame her for that. Do you?" "Not in the least. But you found a way to whip the devil round the stump?" "The maddest way you ever heard of--a perfectly idiotic way, you will say; and this winter cruise in the yacht was the chief move in it. I had to have Madeleine in the party, and, of course, I couldn't have her without her father. Including him meant including Ingerson. It says itself that Barclay, with the threat of a prison sentence hanging over him, wouldn't be willing to lose sight of his one best bet." "I know," I nodded; "know more than you think I do, perhaps. Get on with your story." "Reading a story is what put the notion into my head, in the beginning. In an old book of the Elizabethan voyages and discoveries I came across this tale of a burned galleon and a treasure that was never found. What I wanted to do was to put enough money into Madeleine's hands--money that she would believe was unquestionably her own--to square up her father's crooked accounts. This 'Treasure Island' business seemed to offer the means. About that time I ran across Captain Svenson, the commander of your rescue ship, and besides giving me the latitude and longitude of this island, he told me that he believed it to be the 'Lost Island' of the old English privateers, and the same which was known later, in the buccaneers' time, as 'Pirates' Hope.' Also, he told me that you had told him of the existence of the old wreck. Don't let me bore you with too much detail." "I am too greatly infuriated to be bored. What is the rest of it?" "Mere romantic flubdub, you'll say. I bought from the subtreasury a quarter of a million dollars in gold bars--and had a devil of a time cooking up a reasonable excuse for the purchase, as you would imagine. These bars I had remelted and cast into rough ingots of about forty pounds each. As a matter of secrecy, and to make them easily portable, each of the ingots was packed in a box by itself, the boxes were marked 'Ammunition,' and it was as ammunition that the stuff was secretly put aboard the _Andromeda_ at her North River anchorage." "Sure!" I derided. "When ostriches do a much less naïve thing we call them silly birds. I'd be willing to bet largely that any number of New York crooks knew what was in your cartridge boxes long before you ever got them overside in the _Andromeda_. What next?" "Next, I cleared the yacht for Havana, having first made arrangements to have the winter-cruise party meet me in New Orleans some three weeks later. I'll admit now that I was a bit shaky about some part of my crew. I had told Goff that I didn't want too much intelligence aboard, and after we put to sea it struck me that he had rather overdone the thing. We had a few Provincetown Portuguese who were all right, but the lot Goff picked up in New York--foreigners to a man--didn't look very good to me; nothing especially desperate, you know, but with the gold on board it seemed up to me to keep a weather eye open." "Some glimmerings of common sense now and then: you're to be congratulated," I said. "Rub it in; I've got it coming to me. Holding that cautious notion in mind, I made the southward voyage look as much like a pleasure jaunt as possible, touching at Havana, again at Port au Prince, and a little later at Kingston. From Jamaica we shot across to South American waters, and at Curaçao I gave the bulk of the crew shore leave for two days. Then, with the bunch stripped down to Goff, the engine- and fire-room squads, and two or three of the Portuguese, we made a fly-by-night run to this island. You've got my notion by this time, haven't you?" "Partly; but go on." "We made land about two o'clock in the morning, rounded this point of the island, and dropped anchor just off the inlet opening to Spaniards' Bay. With all hands off duty for the night, Goff and I got the electric launch overside and landed the gold--which was some job for just the two of us; something over fifteen hundred pounds in the lot. But, as I say, we got it ashore, lugged it piecemeal to the little inland glade, and there, by the light of a ship's lantern, we buried it, taking the precaution to mark the place with that chunk of coral." "Um," said I. "So the chunk of coral was there, waiting for you, was it? Didn't it occur to you then to wonder how it got there?" "It didn't. I'll confess I was pretty well wrought up. A dark, deep-laid plot--even one that you have framed up yourself--gets hold of you at the climax, and all I thought of at the time was the need for getting the job finished without letting anybody but Goff into the secret of it." "You had taken Goff into your confidence?" "To some extent, of course; I had to. He knew we were burying a small fortune, but he didn't know, and doesn't yet know, what my object was. After we had buried the gold, we filled the boxes with sand so they wouldn't advertise too plainly the fact that they'd been tampered with, nailed them up, ferried them aboard, and stowed them in the forehold in the place from which we had taken them." I chuckled. The whole thing was so childishly romantic that it sounded like a tale lifted bodily from the pages of a dime thriller. Moreover, it was so absurdly out of character with the Van Dyck I knew, or thought I had been knowing. Yet I fancy the wildly romantic vein lies but shallowly buried even in the soberest of us; and in Bonteck's case the incredulities were put out of court by the fact itself: he had actually done the incredible thing. "It is all plain enough now," I said; "all but the silly childishness of the entire transaction. You were meaning to sow the seed by telling the old Spanish galleon fairy tale to the assembled company, taking a chance of inducing Madeleine to join in the treasure hunt--as you did this afternoon, most successfully, as I must admit." "Yes; but hold on. We buried the gold and marked the place with the chunk of coral, as I have said; and that was the end of it until this afternoon. For the past fortnight I've been manoeuvering to get you and Madeleine together and away from the others, so that I could work the rabbit's foot of the old galleon story upon her, with you for a witness. When the chance came, it worked out just as I'd planned to have it--up to a certain point. Madeleine saw the stone, and she is persuaded she saw it first. We rolled it aside and dug the hole. It was after we had got down about two feet that my shock came along and hit me. I don't mind admitting that I nearly had a full-blown case of heart failure. Dick, _my_ gold was gone!" "Ha!" I exclaimed; "so that was what was the matter with you, was it? What is the answer? Did Goff come back after you'd gone to bed on the night of the funeral and disinter the corpse?" Van Dyck shook his head. "He is one of the few men in this world whom I would trust to the limit, Richard. I can't believe it of him." "Yet the deductions point plainly in his direction," I ventured. "Your gold is gone, you say, and he was the only person besides yourself who knew where to look for it. Past that, the yacht is gone, and it doesn't come back to take us off. How do you explain these two small inconsequences?" "I can't explain them. There is only one explanation that I can think of--and that is merely a raw guess. There is a bare possibility that the mutiny was real instead of a fake. Lequat's part in it makes it look a bit that way. If you've got his identity right, I'm certain he didn't ship with us at New York, and equally certain that I saw him on shore in Havana. As you'd imagine, I've been trying mighty hard not to accept that solution of the thing. If a bunch of real pirates have captured the yacht, we stand a pretty poor chance of ever seeing it again." While he was speaking, the first few precursor whiffs of wind came out of the rising cloud bank in the east. With the moon and a full half of the stars blotted out, the darkness had increased until the only thing visible to seaward was the white line of surf curling over the outer reef. I wasn't accepting Bonteck's belief in Goff's impeccability entirely at its face value. A quarter of a million dollars, in a form that couldn't possibly be traced--namely, in unmarked gold bars--was a pretty big temptation to any man. "Are you quite sure that the gold we dug up wasn't your own hoard, merely buried a bit deeper than you thought it was?" I asked. "Altogether sure," was the prompt reply. "The bars are not quite the same shape, and they are rougher and look immeasurably older. No; unbelievable as it may seem, the hundred-millionth chance shook itself out of the box at the first throw. It was the galleon's gold that we found." "But wait a minute," I said. "Were the two lots buried under the same stone?" "Why not?" he queried. "Why shouldn't they be? Goff and I found the stone there and rolled it aside and dug a shallow hole under it. When we were through, we rolled it back. If we had gone a little deeper we would have found what we three found this afternoon. The one unaccountable thing is the disappearance of my plant. It's gone; there is no question about that." "What do you care for a quarter of a million dollars, so long as Madeleine has been put in the way of purchasing her freedom?" I mocked. "I don't imagine you are going to quarrel with the sheerly miraculous part of it. The thing that is worrying me most, just now, is the fear that the miracle won't go on miracling. Madeleine's gold bars won't do her much good if we've all got to stay on this cursed island and starve to death. And that brings us down to the threadbare old seam again. You say we have only six full meals left; if we all go on short commons at once we may live a week longer before we have to fall back upon the shell-fish and cocoanuts." "Yes," he returned gloomily, "that is what it is coming to." Then: "What ought I to do, Dick?--go and tell the others what I have told you and let them burn me at the stake? It's about what I deserve." His manner of saying this carried me swiftly back to an older time, reincarnating for me the Bonteck Van Dyck who had been my college chum; generous, large-hearted, always quick to admit himself in the wrong when he was in the wrong. Even with the knowledge that Conetta must suffer with the rest of us, I could not flay him as he deserved. "You are not all bad, Bonteck," I remarked. "Billy Grisdale and Edie owe you something, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not in your debt, too. You had a purpose in including Conetta and her aunt, and Jerry Dupuyster, didn't you?" "Of course I had. It seemed a thousand pities that you and Conetta couldn't get together on some sort of a living basis." "It happens to be too late to do me any good; Dupuyster has already asked her," I said. "Just the same, I'm grateful for the intention; so grateful that I'm not going to be the one to tie you to the stake when the others pass sentence upon you. But all this is dodging the main question. What are we going to do? We men, or at least the six of us who call ourselves men, can't stand by and let the other twelve simply curl up and die when the food is gone." "I haven't any plan," he replied. "As I said a while back, I've just been hanging on and hoping against hope. There is still a chance, you know. The yacht's engines may have broken down. Goff may have had to put in somewhere--at some one of the European-owned islands--and is having difficulty in getting permission to sail. That might easily happen, since he is only a sailing-master and has no written authority to show. Taking that view of it, any one of a dozen things might have got in the way to keep him from reaching us at the appointed time." "True enough. But that hope is based upon the supposition that your original plan is still in the saddle. It ignores the other alternative--that the mutiny may have been a real one. Also, it ignores the disappearance of the quarter million--your quarter million--which, taken by itself, has a pretty dubious look. I know you don't care anything about the money part of it, now that Madeleine has been provided for by a miracle; but the evanishment of your gold bars would seem to have a very pointed bearing upon our present situation. I can't take your trust in Goff at par. If he didn't come back here and get that gold an hour or so after it was buried, he did the next best thing--which was to come ashore and move the landmark." "Yes; but, man alive! don't you see what that presupposes? You are assuming that in moving the chunk of coral he placed it exactly over the other mess of gold bars. I grant you that such a thing might happen, but you know well enough that it wouldn't happen--that there are a thousand chances to one against its happening." I had to admit that my second hypothesis was too lame to have a leg to stand on, though it was the more hopeful one of the two. If Goff hadn't resurrected the lately buried quarter million--if he had only moved the marking stone--with due and careful measurements so that he could find the place again--there was some chance of his coming back to the island--after we were all safely starved to death. But these speculations weren't getting us anywhere, and I said so. "We're talking in circles," I complained. "All the gold there is lying under that nubbin of coral, added to the truck-load you've lost and can't find, wouldn't buy a single meal for this crowd of ours after the provisions are gone. Let's get to work and do something. There is enough timber left in the wreck of the _Mary Jane_ to build a raft, and we have an axe--if Jerry hasn't lost it while he was chopping firewood. You have the latitude and longitude of this prison of ours. How far is it to somewhere--anywhere?" Van Dyck did not reply at once. The wind was coming in little catspaws now, and the curious haze, which was by this time obscuring the entire heavens, was shot through with a sort of ghostly half light that was neither lightning nor a reflection from the darkling sea. When Van Dyck spoke, it was not in answer to my question about the latitude and longitude. "Hurricane conditions, I should say; wouldn't you?" he said, getting upon his feet. "If they are, we'd better be hiking back to the other end of the island. Our camp is too near the beach to be safe, even if the wind should come straight out of the east. What do you think about it? You know more about tropical storms than I do." I was about to reply that a man might live half a life-time in the tropics and still have much to learn about weather conditions, when he suddenly reached down and gripped my arm. "Look!" he jerked out. "No, not there--right here--close in--just outside of the reef!" I looked and saw what he saw. A short quarter of a mile to the southeastward, with no lights showing and with her slowly turning engines making no sound that we could hear, a ship, ghostly white and shadowy in the curious light, was creeping, phantom-like, toward the south shore of the island. It was the _Andromeda_. XIII THE WIND AND THE WAVES ROARING MOST naturally, the reappearance of the yacht, at a moment when we had practically worked our way around to the conclusion that it was extremely doubtful if we should ever see her again, quickly put the reasoned deductions to flight. But a second glance threw all the hopeful machinery violently into the reverse. The _Andromeda's_ stealthy approach with all lights hidden, and the evident intention on the part of whoever was in command to make land on the side of the island farthest removed from the place of our debarkation, gave no promise of rescue. "The gold!" I exclaimed; and the two words collided with Van Dyck's: "They are coming back after it!" "But hold on," I interjected. "_Your_ gold is gone, and they don't know--can't know--anything about the Spanish treasure. If it's buried treasure they're coming after, somebody on board the yacht has the wrong tip, to a dead moral certainty." Van Dyck made a gesture like a man groping in the dark. "There were the sand-filled boxes," he offered. "They've opened them. They know that the gold has been unshipped somewhere, and I suppose it wasn't impossible for them to find out that the yacht made a flying trip to this island after the greater part of the crew had been given shore leave at Willemstadt." "You needn't go so far afield for an explanation," I countered. "Goff knew where the gold was unshipped; and, by the same token, he is probably the only man aboard of the yacht who knows the latitude and longitude of Pirates' Hope. None of the others could have found the way back here." "But a few minutes ago you were accusing Goff of making away with the gold on the night of its burial," was the quick retort. "Wait," I interposed. "I said he did one of two things: dug your gold up and took it aboard after you were asleep, or else he came ashore and moved that block of coral. Evidently the latter half of the guess was the correct one." At this, he began to give ground a little. "You may be right. Still, I can't believe it of Goff. There is a chance that, notwithstanding my thinning out of the crew at Willemstadt, we still had a traitor aboard. In that case we may have been spied upon when we landed the gold--Goff and I. I'm still hanging to the belief that there was a real mutiny, and in that case Goff may have been given a choice between steering them back here or walking the plank." This purely academic discussion of the whys and wherefores went on while the _Andromeda_ was edging nearer and nearer to the outer reef barrier, still as silently as a ghost ship, and still without showing a sign of life on deck or bridge, so far as we could make out. Within a stone's throw of the reef she slowed to a stand, and not until then did we hear the low rumbling of her engines as they were reversed to check her headway. Since the yacht's approach had been from the eastward, she lay broadside on to the island. We could see the electric motor launch hanging in its davit tackle on the starboard side, but there was no move made to lower it. "They are not using any steam winches to-night," was Van Dyck's muttered comment upon this. "Too much noise. Listen!" There was a splash, apparently on the port side of the vessel, faint sounds as of oars feathering in muffled rowlocks, and a little later the yacht's yawl crept out around the sharp stem of the _Andromeda_ and headed for a narrow inlet through the reef. There were seven or eight men in the small boat; four at the oars, one in the bow and either two or three aft. At sight of this landing party Bonteck came alive with gratifying promptness. "Whether your guess is the right one or not, Dick, there is one thing certain: If we let those fellows go to digging around in our bullion patch, they will find what we found, and Madeleine will lose out, after all. We can't let it stand that way. What do you say?" I had whipped out my pocket-knife and was cutting a club, or trying to, though the sapling mahogany, or whatever it was I was hacking at, was tougher than a leather whipstock. "I'm not thinking so much about the gold," I said. "It's up to us to capture this yawl crew first, and the _Andromeda_ afterward. Get yourself a weapon of some sort--quick!" "Of course," he agreed at once, feeling in his pocket for the big clasp-knife which he had used for a digging tool a few hours earlier. "Something of that kind is what I meant. Shall we rush 'em when they beach the yawl? Or had we better wait a bit and see what they mean to do?" In our excitement I think neither of us saw the absurdity of two men armed only with clubs proposing to attack seven or eight who were probably provided with firearms. "We'd better wait," I said; but we made good in the matter of time saving by hurrying through the wood to post ourselves handily in a palmetto thicket on the southward-fronting beach edge near the place toward which the yawl, now entering the lagoon, was headed. The dash through the wood from our observation point at the heel of the eastern sandspit seemed to me the hottest sprint I had ever made. Once more the breeze had died out, and with little or no air stirring in the open, in the forest the atmosphere was absolutely lifeless. I don't know how near the running dash came to winding Van Dyck, but when we reached the palmetto thicket the perspiration was pouring out of me in trickling streams, and I was fairly gasping for breath. There was a half-paralyzing portent in the stillness and the terrible heat. It was as if subterranean fires had been kindled under the island, and that curious back-lighting of the haze by the rising moon seemed now to have a faintly lurid glow as if it were catching the reflection of the unseen fires. "Heavens--but this is awful!" Van Dyck muttered under his breath--from which I argued that he was suffering no whit less from the heat than I was. "If we get the weather that this is promising to give us----" "Hush!" I whispered. The yawl, pulled strongly by its four oarsmen, was sweeping up to the beach, skimming the surface of the lagoon like some gigantic water bug. But a moment later we found that we had miscalculated the landing place. After coming within a pebble's toss of the shore--to be the better hidden by the palm shadows, as we supposed--the helmsman swung the yawl parallel to the beach with a low-toned word to his oarsmen, and the boat drifted slowly past our hiding place, as if its crew might be scanning the forest fringe for some determining landmark. "Seven of them," said Van Dyck, with his lips at my ear. "At least one of them will stay by the yawl when they land. That will cut the odds down a bit, though I shouldn't mind if they'd divide up a little evener." I did not reply. My eyes were smarting painfully from the sweat which was running down into them, and I was trying to get clear vision enough to enable me to distinguish between the figures in the slowly drifting boat. Though I couldn't make sure, I thought that the man at the yawl's tiller was the ex-steward, Lequat. A landing was made a little way down the beach from us, in a small indentation too shallow to be called a bay. Noiselessly the yawl's oars were unshipped, and then we heard the gentle grating of the boat's keel upon the sand. In the debarking it became apparent that Bonteck had considerably underrated the caution of the invaders. Three of the men stayed by the yawl, leaving only four for whatever landward expedition was toward. Oddly enough, as we thought, the four did not make directly for the glade where the gold had been hidden. Instead, they moved off down the beach, marching silently in single file and keeping well within the shadow of the wood. It was Van Dyck who flung a guess at their intention. "They are going to take a look-in at our camp, first--to get the lay of the land and to make sure that they won't be interrupted," he hazarded, adding: "Which simplifies matters somewhat. The farther they get away from their boat and the yacht, the easier it will be for us to clap an extinguisher upon them without giving the alarm. Let's run for it and head them off!" It seemed easy enough to make a quick detour through the forest to a point at which we could lie in wait for the marching four, and it was not until after we had begun it that we realized how dark it was under the trees, and how much the darkness was going to cut our speed. A few minutes of this woodland race proved enough for both of us. "Head for the beach and we'll run them down in the open," was Van Dyck's modifying order, after we had stumbled and fallen half a dozen times and got ourselves well torn and stabbed by the little bayonet palms that grew thickly among the larger trees; and this we did, issuing from the wood a hundred yards or so beyond the beached yawl, and possibly a like distance behind the men we were trying to overtake. To chase the four men openly from that point was to give the alarm in both directions at once; in other words, to invite a front and rear attack that we couldn't hope to repel with our primitive weapons. So we fell back into the wood, changing our plan again and deciding to wait until the four were out of sight, when we could turn and fall upon the three at the boat and stand some chance of overcoming them and possessing ourselves of whatever arms they might have. But even this alternative was to be denied us. While we halted, breathing hard from the hot struggle with the impeding jungle, Van Dyck said, "Listen!" again. Afar to the eastward there was a sound like the flapping of a thousand wings; a low drumming that seemed to fill the dead air with jarring vibrations and to play upon the senses with the maddening insistence of a single musical note too long sustained. Before we had time to realize what the ominous warning portended, a pistol shot cracked from the _Andromeda's_ bridge, and for a brief instant the blinding glare of the searchlight swept the island beach. "Calling them in," I said. "Whatever they're minded to do, the storm is going to beat them to it." And that the shot and flash were signals summoning the boat's crew to come aboard was quickly made apparent. The expeditionary four wheeled and came running back along the beach, while the three boat guards were tumbling hastily into the yawl and shipping the oars. Van Dyck gripped his club. "We mustn't let them get away, or get together again!" he rapped out. "Wait until I give the word!"--and as the four runners were about to pass our hiding place--"Now!" What I did had to be done on the spur of the moment. At the climaxing instant, I flung my arms around him and dragged him down and held him helpless; at which it was only natural that he should fall to cursing me like a fishwife. "You fool!" I panted, when I had the breath to spare. "Let them go! They'll come back. Don't you hear that wind coming? The yacht will be lost if she hangs on outside of that reef five minutes longer!" As I let him get up, a hurtling volley of great raindrops tore through the foliage over our heads, and a blast, carrying with it the dank, unwholesome breath of an upheaved watery underworld, swept across the surface of the lagoon. Like mad-men the racing four hurled themselves into the waiting yawl, the boat shoved off, and with the men at the oars pulling with much more energy than skill, a frantic dash was made for the passage through the reef. It bade fair to be a shrewd case of touch and go; an open question as to whether or not the yawl could reach the yacht before the yacht would have to claw off the island in sheer self-preservation. Dark as it had grown, we could see the black smoke of freshly fueled fires pouring from the _Andromeda's_ funnels to be caught up and whirled away to leeward, and above the shrieking of the blast we could hear the trampling chant of her powerful engines. Whoever was in command was proving himself a daring captain. With a Caribbean hurricane fairly upon him, and a jagged reef lying within a cable's length, he was backing and filling and holding his ground stubbornly to give the yawl, tossing now like a cockleshell on a heaving sea which was already surging over the reef, time to reach him. Van Dyck burst out in an ecstasy of rage. "Damn him!" he yelled, apostrophizing the unknown manoeuverer on the _Andromeda's_ bridge, "he'll put the yacht on the rocks, and that'll be the end of all of us!" It certainly looked that way. More rain was coming, not in huge drops, as at first, but in a fine, mist-like spray, driving horizontally and drenching instantly everything it touched. Though the rising moon was completely blotted out by the rain and the high cloud wrack, there was still light enough in the open to enable us to see the _Andromeda_ and the yawl. The returning boat's crew seemed fully alive to the need for haste; the men at the oars were splashing mightily and digging deep. But enthusiasm, even the enthusiasm of fear, is but a poor substitute for mariner skill. The little boat had safely negotiated the dangerous reef passage and was half-way out to the yacht when an oar broke, and it could have been only the cleverest dexterity on the part of the helmsman that kept the yawl from falling into the trough of the rising seas and capsizing when the man at the broken oar tumbled over backward and so crippled for the moment the remainder of the yawl's motive power. But the small accident settled matters definitely for the yacht's captain, whoever he was. As if the snapping ash had been the signal for which he was waiting--and a convincing proof that it was no use for him to wait any longer--he called for full speed ahead, jammed his helm hard down, and with a lurch to port so abrupt that it seemed as if it must surely put her upon her beam ends, the _Andromeda_ fled, vanishing like a white wraith in the spume and smother to leeward, and leaving the luckless landing party to do what it pleased, or could, toward saving itself. What the boat's steersman did--most naturally--was to try to make land again. By some means he got the disabled yawl around without swamping it and headed it for the narrow reef passage which was now all but hidden by the tumbling seas. Badly handicapped as he was by the loss of one of the four oars, it still seemed as if he might make the inlet. Steered as fine as a racing shell rounding the turning buoy, the light little craft leaped for the opening. But at the balancing instant, when another tug at the oars might have sent it through into the comparatively calmer waters of the lagoon, the yawl was caught on the lift of a billow, flung aside like a bit of driftwood, and dropped with a crash of splintering timbers on the rocks. Under the conditions--a tropical hurricane coming on apace, seas dashing over a half-submerged coral reef, and their boat reduced to kindling wood--all seven of the mutineers, pirates, gold-robbers, or whatever they were, should have been swept away and drowned as we looked. At first we thought that was what had happened--was necessarily bound to happen. And it apparently did happen to two of the seven. For a moment later, when we saw bobbing heads dotting the heaving swells in the lagoon, we could count but five, and there were only five sodden figures to come crawling out a bit later, one after another, upon the beach. Van Dyck stooped and picked up his club, which he had dropped in the excitement of watching the struggles of the swimmers. "Dick, it's murder, and in cold blood ... but we can't let those men run loose on the island. We'll be starving presently, and so will they. Are you with me?" I suppose he took my answer for granted, for he started to run toward the group of wearied swimmers, and I ran with him. As he had said, it was a good bit like murder. Two of the exhausted ones were too far gone to make any attempt at resistance; they merely rolled over on their faces on the sand, spreading their arms wide in token of surrender. But the three others, with Lequat to head them, did their best. Pistols cracked, and in the fray I got a kick, delivered after the best manner of the French foot-boxer, that nearly knocked the breath out of me. But we were fresh, and the three were practically in the last ditch of exhaustion when we fell upon them. So long as the pistols were fired without aim, there could be but one issue to the hand-to-hand battle. When it was over, the three fighting men were groveling with the others, two of them with cracked heads and the other with a crippled wrist to his firing hand. Van Dyck was as ruthless in victory as he had been in the attack. "Search them!" he ordered, and like a pair of highwaymen we went through the pockets of the vanquished boat's crew. Three pistols, two of them modern automatics, and one an old-fashioned Navy weapon, a couple of murderous knives, and a few cartridges comprised the loot; these, and a coil of light line which one of the men had wound around his body--for what object we didn't inquire. But the rope came in play handily. With it, while the increasing gale tore savagely at us, we bound the captives hand and foot, and dragged them one by one up into the wood; and the transfer was not made any too quickly, at that, for by now the great seas were leaping the barrier reef to come rushing down the lagoon upon the unprotected beach. It seemed horribly cruel to leave five men, three of them pretty sorely wounded, to lie bound and helpless under the palms and wholly at the mercy of the storm, but self-preservation knows no law. Van Dyck put the constraining necessity tersely when he said, shouting to make himself heard above the din and clamor of the elements: "That's all we can do here, and we're needed at the other end of things. This gale will be ripping our camp up by the roots." Together we turned our backs upon the prisoners and started toward our own end of the island. The beach was by this time quite impassable. Huge seas were leaping the reef to hurl themselves in thunder crashings far up into the fringing wood. So we were forced to strike off diagonally inland, feeling our way blindly from tree to tree, and judging the direction only by keeping the wind at our backs. Even so, we were unable to hold anything like a straight course. Once we came out upon the south beach, and were well battered and bruised and all but drowned before we could claw back to the partial shelter of the jungle. Farther on we were lost again, and this time we stumbled out upon the north beach somewhere between the bay of the Spanish wreck and our camp. Over this lagoon frontage, like that on the south shore, the sea was running in huge billows, clearing the outer barrier as if it were not there, and the pounding crashes seemed to shake the small island to its foundations. As was to be expected, we found a most pitiable state of affairs at the camp when we finally won through. The fire had been drowned in the first downpour of the rain, and the small clearing was in murky darkness. Two of the tents had been blown down, and the third, into which the women were crowded, was straining at the peg ropes. Worse still, there was no longer any beach, with its stretch of sand, to fence off the sea. The conditions as we had found them farther to the eastward were repeated at the camp site, only they were worse, if anything. The great seas, rolling down the lagoon at a sharp angle with the shore line, were flinging their spray high over the small clearing, each upsweeping surge giving us notice that its follower was likely to engulf us. It was in such a crisis as this that Van Dyck showed at his best as a man and a leader. Before I had had time to wipe the salt spray out of my eyes he had gathered the available men of the party and was energetically at work moving the camp back into the most sheltered of the inland glades. By heroic battlings, in which even Holly Barclay and the major bore a part, we got the two dismantled tents set up in the new location. It was in the transferring of the women that I became a deserter. Miss Mehitable Gilmore, with the dragoness outer shell all cracked and broken to reveal a very human and distracted old woman beneath it, was calling piteously for Conetta. "Oh, Richard Preble--find her--find her!" she gasped. "She's gone and she'll be drowned--I know she'll be drowned!" A hurried question or two elicited the alarming facts. Billy Grisdale and Edith Van Tromp had not come in from their post at the western signal point, and Conetta had flown to warn them. That was enough for me. With a blunt word to Van Dyck, I deserted. It was only a short quarter of a mile to the western extremity of the island, and I covered it in a stumbling rush, with the wind knocking me down and forcing me to scramble on hands and knees when it got a fair sweep at me. Reaching the point where we had built our fire and flown our distress signal from the lopped palm, nothing was recognizable in the darkness, but as nearly as I could make out, the tree was gone and the breakers were running man-head deep over the place where the fire had been. I had a bad minute or two until I had shouted and groped around and found the three missing ones crouching in the shelter of the nearest jungle growth. It had been horribly easy to fancy them blown into the sea from the bare sandspit. Billy was doing his best, as any one who knew him would have predicted. He had wattled the bushes together behind the two women, and had stripped off his coat to add it to the shelter. Nevertheless, he made no secret of his relief when he heard my shout at his ear. "By Jove," he choked; "misery likes company, you know. Cuddle down here, Uncle Dick, and tell us we're only dreaming when we think we're soaked to the skin. A little more and I believe it would really make up its mind to rain! What's the show for getting back to camp? I couldn't do it with two of 'em--tried it and we all came near being washed away." "No show at all at present; we'll have to wait a bit," I said; and then I took my part in the sheltering. In the dash from the dismantled camp I had caught up a square of canvas that had served as part of a tent fly, and with Grisdale's help, it was rigged as a sort of rain break to windward. "I knew you'd come," said Conetta quite calmly, when there was nothing more to do or to be done, and the four of us were cowering under the canvas. And then, with the calmness somewhat shaken: "The others? Are they all alive?" "Alive and unhurt, so far as I could tell in the dark," I hastened to say. "They are moving the camp back into the wood. Ingerson was the only one who was missing." "What has become of him?" I didn't tell her that Van Dyck and I had left him asleep under the trees on the north shore of the island some two hours earlier. It didn't seem at all necessary to harrow her with the story of Ingerson's miring in the drink demoniac's morass. "I don't know just what has become of him," I said, which was strictly true as to the bare fact. "He'll doubtless turn up all right in the morning." "You say they are moving the camp. Will it be safer in the wood?" "There was no choice. The seas are breaking over the other place by now." "Poor Aunt Mehitable!" she said brokenly. "At the very first lull we must go back to her, Dick." "There is no special hurry," I offered. "She is all right, and she sent me out to find you; begged me to go." "She sent you?" "Yes; me, and not Jerry Dupuyster." There was silence for a little time; such silence as the shrieks of the hurricane and the crashing of the seas permitted. Then she said drearily: "We can't go back and begin all over again, you and I, Richard. It's too late, now." Most naturally, I could take this declaration only in one sense. She had admitted that Jerry had asked her to marry him, and her saying that it was too late was merely an indirect way of telling me that she was promised to him. And that thought set me boiling inwardly again. For in the hubbub of camp moving Jerry had been doing his impractical best to shelter Beatrice Van Tromp; this when he must have known that Conetta was somewhere out in the storm. "I shall have a good-sized bone to pick with Jerry, if we ever get back to normal again," I said, and because I didn't take the trouble to try to whisper the threat, Edie Van Tromp cut in. "Stop it, you two!" she commanded. "I can't hear what you're saying, but I know you are quarreling." Billy Grisdale groaned. "If I only had my mandolin!" he lamented. "Get down, Tige"--this to the bull pup who was trying to climb into his master's lap for better protection from the storm. And then to me: "How long do these little summer sprinkles last, Uncle Dick?" I declined to commit myself, It didn't strike me as a Christian thing to do to make the women more miserable by telling them that the storm might last for days, and that our best hope was for a cessation of the pouring rain floods. As it turned out, in this one respect we were favored. After about an hour the rain was coming only in driving squalls and the thick darkness was a little broken. Overhead the moon showed faintly through the masses of cloud wrack hurling themselves westward on the high crest of the gale, and there was a pallid promise of a clearing sky. But with the ceasing of the downpour the wind increased to hurricane fury, and the pounding of the seas upon the reef and upon the island itself was like a succession of earthquake shocks. As far as our limited range of vision could reach, the sea was heaving and tossing in mountain-like billows with valleys between in which the tallest ship would have been hidden, and it was plainly evident that a new danger was threatening. Our island was low and flat; in its highest spots it was scarcely more than eight or ten feet above the normal sea level. If the gale should blow long enough and hard enough, it could be only a question of time until the catapulting seas would break down the jungle barriers and sweep the island from end to end. "Time for us to move!" Grisdale sang out, as a particularly vicious "seventh wave" broke just behind us and reached for our shelter spot in its tumultuous torrenting across the sands; and we took the hint. "You two fight for yourselves," I called back, and the battle with the pouring gale was begun. It was a battle royal. For every foot of the quarter mile we had to fight desperately. Even in the wood it was impossible at times to stand against the wind, and again and again we had to fling ourselves prone, clinging to whatever hold offered itself. And at every step the palm fronds above our heads were crackling and snapping like whips, and the air was full of flying missiles. We held together for the better part of the time, Grisdale and Edie locking arms and facing the blasts in the fresh strength of youth and health, and taking their buffetings with a laugh. So battling and creeping by turns, we came at last to the breathless home stretch, and I was unspeakably relieved to find the white tents still standing intact in the glade which Van Dyck had chosen for their latest pitching place. "Keep your good nerve just a few minutes longer," I said to Conetta, who was clinging to me with a grip that I think no hurricane blast could have broken. "We are almost there." I had a glimpse in the starlight of her face upturned to mine, and saw her lips move as if in reply. But what she was saying I did not hear. For at that moment one of the flying missiles--it was a broken tree-top, they told me afterward--came between and blotted me out. XIV HAND TO MOUTH THE blow from the broken tree-top must have been a fairly forceful one. When I began to get acquainted with current affairs again, I was lying in a hammock swung between two trees, the gale had blown itself out, and the sun was shining. At a little distance I could see the tents of the new camp, but there seemed to be nobody stirring. Overhead the bedraggled fronds of the palms were waving in a gentle breeze aftermath of the great storm, and the thunder of the surf on the reef told me that the sea had not yet fully subsided. I moved a bit and put a leg over the hammock's edge, meaning to get up, but at that, Van Dyck materialized from somewhere and put the leg back again. "No hurry about turning out, old man," he said gently. "How are you feeling by now?" I took stock of myself and answered accordingly. "Head feeling as big as a bushel basket, but I'm otherwise normal, I guess. What happened to me?" He told me about the crack on the head from the falling tree-top. "You were knocked out by the blow, and when you came to, you were wandering a bit in your mind and talked too much. It was making it rather awkward for Conetta--the things you were saying--so I took the liberty of giving you a small sleeping-shot with the emergency needle." "Thanks," I yawned. "The next thing to being able to do a good turn for yourself is to have a kind friend at your elbow to do it for you. I feel as though I had slept the clock around. What makes it so quiet?" "Nobody at home," he answered evasively. "Professor Sanford has formed a class in natural science, and it is out doing field stunts." "Otherwise?" I queried. "Otherwise foraging for breakfast. It has come, Dick. We didn't get action swiftly enough last night to save the few provisions there were left in the commissary, and the seas made a clean sweep. Tell me a few of the natural-history things that you and the other survivors of the _Mary Jane_ must have learned while you were trying to keep from starving to death after your shipwreck." I closed my eyes and took the needful plunge into the dismal memories. "There were always the cocoanuts, of course--and I've never been able to abide the taste of one since. Then there is, or was, a kind of oyster, too big to be eatable unless you were powerfully hungry. We got them by wading in the lagoon shallows. There are plenty of crabs, as you know; they would probably be good if they were cooked. But we of the _Mary Jane_ had no fire. The lagoon is full of fish; some good for food, and some deadly. You try them and if you survive they are all right. If you don't survive, they are poisonous." "How did you catch the fish?" Van Dyck wanted to know. "We didn't catch many of them. A diet of raw fish doesn't appeal very strongly unless one is nearer starvation than we could be while the cocoanuts lasted." "No edible roots?" "None that we ever discovered; and, anyway, they wouldn't have been edible raw. But, say; we're missing something. How about those trussed-up pirates? Won't the professor's natural-science class stumble upon them and have a shock?" At this question Van Dyck looked a trifle foolish. "I thought we tied those fellows securely enough last night," he offered. "Didn't you?" "I did, indeed. Are you trying to tell me that they've picked the locks?" "They are not where we left them; that is one sure thing. I went out there early this morning, meaning to make them talk and tell me what's what on the _Andromeda_. They had disappeared." "They are loose on the island?" I gasped. "That would be the natural inference, you'd say. But I couldn't find any trace of them--haven't yet found any." "Then the _Andromeda_ must have come back to take them off." Van Dyck's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that it is impossible. But the seas are still running pretty high, and if the yacht's people were able to make a landing with either of the power launches before dawn, they are better sailormen than I've been giving them credit for being." "They'd come back for their men if it were humanly possible," I ventured, "and they might have good hopes of being able to find them alive. The wreck of the yawl happened after the yacht had disappeared, you remember. But if they did come back, how about the treasure trove? Would they go away again without digging up your plantation? But perhaps they did dig it up?" He shook his head. "No; that is the first thing I thought of when the five men turned up missing. The block of coral is just where we left it. Nothing has been disturbed." "But if that is what the landing party came for last night----" "I know; it's a mystery, but in the heart of it lies our best hope, I believe. They meant to dig when they made that landing last night. I found a shovel this morning. In their hurry to get away, the yawl crew left it on the beach and the seas had washed it up under the trees." "Whereabouts is the hope?" I inquired. "It is all guess-work," he admitted. "Assuming that they came last night to dig--and didn't dig--and assuming again that they came back in the dark hour before dawn, and still didn't dig, it is a fair inference that we haven't seen the last of the _Andromeda_--or isn't it?" "I don't know," I said. "The plot has grown much too complicated for me. Meanwhile, I suppose we ought to be thankful that we haven't five additional mouths to fill--with nothing to fill them with. You wouldn't have let those five pirates starve, would you, Bonteck?" The look that came into his eyes was handsomely gloomy. "I meant to come just as near doing it as I could, and get by without serving a sentence for manslaughter." And with that, he pulled his cap over his eyes and walked away, coming back presently with a still gloomier look in his eyes. "It's hell, Dick," he broke out grittingly. "I've got to tell these people of ours what's been done to them. It is the least I can do now. There is starvation just ahead of us; and from what we saw last night, it is perfectly plain that if the _Andromeda_ comes back, it won't be for the purpose of taking us off." "Not to take us off, perhaps, but the other motive--the motive that brought her here last night--still exists. If she came to dig up your buried 'ammunition' which has so mysteriously disappeared, she will come again. You may depend upon that." "Just the same, I've got to tell them," he said doggedly, going back to the conscientious part of it; adding: "And I'd much rather be shot. It was such an asinine thing, even as I had it shaped up in the beginning. How can I ever make it appear to them as it appeared to me?--as a harmless little practical joke, with no particular sting in its tail? In the light of what has happened, I can never hope to make it look that way; not even to you or to Madeleine, I'm afraid." I rose upon an elbow. "Why not wait a little longer?" I argued. "The _Andromeda_ will surely turn up again, and when she does, it will be up to us to recapture her at all hazards. When that is done, you can tell the others, if you still think it necessary." "But I owe it to you, at least, to tell them now." "Why to me, especially?" "For Conetta's sake." "I'll answer for Conetta." He sat down on the biscuit box, where he had been sitting when I came awake, and put his back against a tree. "I'm a wholesale murderer, Dick; that is about what it comes to!" he groaned. "I have brought the woman I'd die for down into this devil's sea to starve her to death. I know you'll say that I meant it all the other way about, and so I did. But in this world it is only results that count. I'm a bloody assassin." I tried sitting up in the hammock, and found that it could be done. Then I tried standing, and found that this, too, was possible. "Supposing we go and join the breakfast chase," I suggested, meaning to interpose a saving distraction; and we did it. This was the beginning of the fourth act--the most disheartening fourth act--in our gladsome little Caribbean comedy which was turning out so tragically. For a day or two we were able to make light of the sudden change of diet, and even of its scantiness, and to extract some sort of forced fun out of the oyster dredging and the crabbing; also, out of our not too successful attempts to vary the menu by fishing, with bent hat-pins for hooks, in the crystal-clear waters of the lagoon. But in a short while the laugh came less readily, and the eyes of some--of the younger women, at least--grew strained from much staring at dazzling, but empty, horizons, and filled easily with tears. Yet, on the whole, the revelation of inner egos brought about by this face-to-face fronting of a desperate extremity was not disappointing. Stripped now of all the maskings of make-believe, we saw one another as we were, and much that had been hidden was found to be heart-mellowing and even inspiring when it was dragged out into the unsparing light of a common disaster. The courage of the women, in particular, was the finest thing imaginable. There were nine of them starving heroically with us, and they were doing it with a measure of cheer that was beyond all praise. Even Miss Mehitable refused to figure as an exception. "We must be good losers," she said to Conetta and me one evening when we were trying to tempt her with a bit of broiled fish without seasoning. And she did not resent it when Alicia Van Tromp, thrusting a laughing face in at the open tent flap, called her "a dear, dead-game old sport." For the men there is less to be said; partly because it is a man's job to endure hardness anyway, and partly because three of our nine were not living up to their privileges. Ingerson was doing a little better, to be sure; for one thing, he was no longer thrusting himself upon Madeleine. During the night of the hurricane he had lain out in all the fury of it, and possibly the pouring deluge had washed some of the brute out of him. At all events, he was less obnoxious, holding himself aloof in a half-surly way, and seeming--or so we hoped--to be fighting a morose battle with his appetite. Once, when I spoke of his changed attitude to Conetta, she quoted Scripture at me: "'This kind goeth not out but by fasting and prayer.' I doubt if he is praying much, but he is certainly fasting." Major Terwilliger, on the other hand, grew even more contemptible as the pinch nipped the harder. Ranging the island for edible things, as we all did, he discovered a wild mango in bearing, and though the fruit would have been a grateful boon to all as a change, he kept the discovery to himself for two whole days before Billy Grisdale, who was trailing him, made him give up and share what was left on the tree. Holly Barclay had given up his pretense of illness and was less exacting than before; but he was still utterly useless in any practical way. During this interval, in which we were maintaining night and day watches and patrolling the beaches, Bonteck was still holding his peace as I had counseled him to, though I could see that his load was growing heavier day by day. As to the events of the hurricane night, it was by agreement that no mention of the _Andromeda's_ visit had been made to the others. This was Bonteck's idea. Since nothing had come of the yacht's return and our adventure with the five men who had so mysteriously disappeared, he argued that no good could result from spreading the news; that the news couldn't well be spread without adding explanations which I, myself, had advised him to withhold. It was a week, or perhaps a day or so more than that, after the night of alarms that Van Dyck took me aside and showed me a piece of light rope such as is used for signal halliards on board ship; a piece, I said, but I should have said two short pieces tied together in a hard knot. "Do you recognize it?" he asked. I shook my head. "Of course, I couldn't swear to it," he said, "but it looks like a bit of the flag halliards from the yacht. In other words, a bit of the rope with which we tied the five pirates." "Well?" I queried. "I forgot to say that when I went to look for those fellows the next morning, I didn't find any of these rope lashings. They didn't leave even that much of a trace of themselves when they made off." "Well?" I said again. "I suppose you are pretty well convinced by this time that the _Andromeda_ came back and took them off, and so am I. Taking that view of it, you'll know what it means when I tell you that I found this piece of knotted rope in the bushes a few yards from our camp--lost out of somebody's pocket, for a guess." Truly, I did know. It meant that the _Andromeda_ had come a second time, and that, in addition to rescuing the survivors of the yawl's crew, the rescuing party had crept up upon us; had been near enough to massacre the lot of us as we slept after the strenuous exertions of the forepart of the night. "Um," said I; "why didn't they kill us all off while the killing was good? Perhaps you can answer me that." "There may have been reasons. Possibly the landing party--the second one--wasn't big enough to attempt it with safety. Besides, what was the use of their troubling themselves when the lapse of a little time would take the job off their hands?" Here was a ready explanation for all that had happened, or hadn't happened, since the night of the storm. The mutineers were merely giving us time to starve to death. Their spying expedition had doubtless shown them that our stores were gone, and they could easily argue that in a few days we, too, would be gone--at least gone past the point at which we could interfere with anything they wished to do on the island. It was on a crabbing expedition when, as it chanced, I was paired with the youngest of the Van Tromp trio, that Edith asked a question which I knew must be trembling continually upon the lips of every woman in our forlorn company. "How long can it last, Uncle Dick? How long can we live on just cocoanuts and hope, after the horrid great oysters are all gone, and these creepy, leggy crabs have grown too cunning to let us catch them?" "We must try not to dwell upon that," I told her. "Our problem is to live from day to day." "But there will come a day," she asserted. "I can see it in Billy's eyes, when I can get him to look at me." "Ouch!" I said, purposely letting a crab nip my finger for the sake of making a diversion. But the tribe to which Miss Edith belongs rejoices in its ability to cling, limpet-like, to a matter in hand. "The Caribs were cannibals, weren't they?--in the long ago?" she went on. "Are we coming to that, Richard Preble? If we should, Billy and I will draw straws. We're both young and tender, you know." "Hush!" I commanded; "that isn't a pretty joke." And later that same day, when I was able to get hold of Billy Grisdale, I read the riot act to him. "You want to rub the O-Lord-pity-us look out of your eyes, young man, and put a little more ginger into your conversation with Edie," I suggested. "She is beginning to see things in the back part of your brain, and that isn't good for little girl Crusoes." "Take it to yourself!" he retorted spitefully. "I saw you looking at Conetta not fifteen minutes ago with a scare in your eyes big enough to set an innocent bystander's teeth on edge." "I'll reform," I promised, "and so must you, Billy. Take Bonteck for your model; not me." "Bonteck's got something up his sleeve," he said morosely. "He's been going through the bunch for weapons. Think of it--nine men of us here three thousand miles out of reach of a policeman, and not so much as one poor little potato-popgun among us." This was a mistake on Billy's part, of course. We still had the three pistols taken from the men we had waylaid on the night of the storm, but of these no mention had been made to Billy or any of the others, since to speak of them would have called for the story of the night's adventures--a story which Van Dyck and I were still keeping to ourselves. But Billy's remark about the inquiry for weapons was news of a sort. Had Van Dyck caught a fresh glimpse of the _Andromeda's_ smoke plume on the horizon he was always sweeping with the field-glass? "Bonteck wasn't trying to disarm anybody, was he?" I asked. "Oh, no. He talked sort of vaguely about a scrap of some kind, and being prepared for it; wanted to know if the professor and Grey and Dupuyster and I would put ourselves under orders, and do what he might tell us to, sight unseen. Said maybe he'd be able to explain more fully a little later on." I thought I saw what was in Van Dyck's mind. His secret was gnawing the life out of him, and, sooner or later, it would have to come out. I knew well enough that he was not hesitating from any cowardly motive; it was rather because I had urged him to wait, holding out the hope that a more auspicious time for the telling of the plot would come--or at least that a less auspicious time than this starvation period could hardly come. In the waiting interval, and as in some sense still our host and leader, he had been obliged to busy himself with something, and apart from the daily effort to make the hardships less grinding upon all of us, and the women in particular, he had organized the six of us men who were willing into four-hour watches of two men each to patrol the two beaches, urging our daily decreasing food supply as a reason for the increased vigilance, and insisting that we must not allow the smallest chance of discovery to escape us. If a ship were sighted in the night, the two watchers making the discovery were to arouse the other four instantly, and without giving a general alarm. Though he had not confided it to me in detail, his plan was obvious enough. He was still expecting another return of the _Andromeda_, and was determined to make a desperate effort to regain possession of the yacht when the chance should offer. For this attempt, hazardous as it would surely prove to be, he could count definitely upon only six of our nine. Barclay was certainly out of it, and the major's age exempted him. Ingerson was a doubtful quantity--very doubtful from my point of view--and I questioned if Van Dyck would call upon him or make him a party to any plan that might be determined upon when the time for action should arrive. Still, outnumbered as we must be, a recapture of the yacht appeared to be our only hope. We might all starve a thousand times over before any chance ship should sight our isolated island; sight it and approach near enough to make out our distress signals. Just how much or how little Van Dyck would confess to the others, if a time should come when he would no longer be able to keep silence, was a question that was puzzling me. To tell the assembled castaways that there had probably been a real mutiny where only a sham one was intended would cut no figure as news, since sixteen of our eighteen already believed it to have been real. That being the case, the only encouraging thing to be revealed was the burial of the golden hoard, and the reasonable hope it gave us that the _Andromeda_ would come back, sooner or later, in order to search for it. As to this, however, I was quite confident that Bonteck would never go so far as to tell the others about the gold planting. That he would publish the bald truth about his generous and lover-like little plot, the object of which was to enable Madeleine Barclay to buy her freedom of choice in matters matrimonial, was simply unthinkable. And if the gold-burying episode were to be left out of his confession, in what other manner could he account to the others for his belief that the yacht would eventually return? As it came about, the answers to all these questioning reflections were already marshaling themselves for a descent upon us at the moment when I was undertaking to show Billy Grisdale that a man's eyes should be kept decently shuttered when his brain is conjuring up pictures of the terrible things that may happen to the loved one. On this same evening Professor Sanford and I were paired to take the first watch for the patrolling of the beach, and at eight o'clock we set out from the camp in the glade, leaving the other members of our Crusoe company sitting around the dying embers of the cooking fire. Following the regular sentry-go routine, Sanford and I parted at the camp; he was to take the south beach and I the north, and we were to meet at the sandspit in which the island terminated to the eastward. As I tramped along upon my solitary watch round I was sorrier than ever for Van Dyck. All that day he had been going about like a man with a dozen murders on his conscience, and it was plain to be seen that each added day--days in which he was obliged to see some of us actually going hungry because we hadn't been able to gather enough to satisfy eighteen normal and healthy appetites--was crowding him nearer to the brink of the humiliating confession chasm. From advising him not to tell, I was coming around to the opposite point of view and wishing that I hadn't tried to stop him. As matters stood, he was like a man facing a deferred surgical operation. It was true, the operation might prove fatal; but there were opportunities for the dying of any number of anticipatory deaths during the interval of suspense. Skirting the northern edge of the island without seeing anything to mar the mirror-like surface of the starlit sea, I was first at the sandspit rendezvous by a good half-hour. Since there was no reason for haste, and the sandy cape commanded a wide view of the watery waste in all directions save one, I filled my pipe with the final shakings of my last sack of tobacco, and after poking in the ashes of the neglected signal fire and finding no live coals among them, I lighted the pipe with one of the few precious matches we were hoarding, and sat down on the sands to wait. In due course of time the professor appeared, a dark figure trudging along aimlessly; and when he came nearer I saw that he had his hands clasped behind him and was walking with his head down like a person buried in the deepest thought--the very antitype of an alert coast guardsman on the watch for a sail. When he descried me he came over and sat down beside me, still thoughtfully abstracted. "I was beginning to wonder what had become of you, Professor," I said, merely to start things going. "Yes; I was detained. Mr. Van Dyck called me back shortly after you left," he explained half-absently. Then he opened up: "Mr. Preble, I have been listening to a most astounding--er--confession, I suppose you might call it. I wonder if you know what it is?" "I do," I answered shortly. "Van Dyck has been telling you that a harmless little comedy planned by him to break the monotony of our cruise has turned into a potential tragedy, with all the attendant hardships and horrors." "You are quite right. He was very manly about it, and he blames himself unsparingly. It was an exceedingly difficult thing for him to do--to tell us of it. He realized fully that the present conditions must make any explanation seem wretchedly inadequate." "They do," I agreed, and then I asked the one burning question: "The others, Professor Sanford? How did they take it?" "A-a-hem-hem--h'm; each after his or her kind, Mr. Preble. The women are pretty generally sympathetic. They see only the immense responsibility which Mr. Van Dyck freely acknowledges, and are very humanly and generously sorry for him. I wish I might say as much for the men. Grey and young Grisdale are both loyal, though it was plainly evident that Grey had to fight for his loyalty, since the unhappy outcome involves his wife. Ingerson talked and acted like a surly ruffian, as you would imagine; and Major Terwilliger's language was scarcely less reprehensible. Dupuyster played the man. He rebuked his uncle quite sharply and went across to grip Van Dyck's hand and to say what a manly fellow might say in the circumstances. And Miss Van Tromp--the second Miss Van Tromp--went with him." "Of course," I said crustily--and made another mark on the score that I meant to settle with one Gerald Dupuyster if we should ever attain to a time when personal scores could be audited and settled. Then I reminded the professor that he had omitted Mr. Holly Barclay. "I wish to continue omitting him," was the reply, and the professor's tone was a measure of his disgust. "Let it be sufficient to say that he made his daughter blush for very shame with his puerile accusations. He even went so far as to intimate that Mr. Van Dyck was not telling the truth; that the entire affair was a deep-laid plot designed to involve Miss Madeleine in some way." "That was to be expected--from Holly Barclay," I said. "But you are omitting one more: Professor Abner Sanford, Ph. D." I was relighting my pipe with another of the precious matches, and in the momentary flare the professor's plain-song face revealed itself. There was a half-quizzical smile wrinkling at the corners of the quiet gray eyes. "Mrs. Sanford and I are Mr. Van Dyck's guests," he qualified. "But, apart from that, I was content to wait and hear what might develop further. As it appears, Mr. Van Dyck has not entirely lost hope. If there were a real mutiny--and, indeed, there seems little doubt of that--Van Dyck still has confidence in the resourcefulness of Goff, the sailing-master. He insists that, sooner or later, the _Andromeda_ will return." In the little interval of silence that followed I was turning the professor's story over thoughtfully in my mind. There had evidently been no mention made of the gold-burying episode. Van Dyck had dodged it very cleverly, it seemed, letting it be understood that his hope of the yacht's return was based upon the loyalty, in the last resort, of Elijah Goff. It was better that way. So long as the hope had been definitely held out to the others, there was no need of terrifying the women by telling them that if we should be lucky enough to regain our ship it would be by hard knocks and a rather forlorn-hope fight against overwhelming odds as to numbers and arms. "There is still one vote outstanding, Mr. Preble--your own," said the professor, breaking into my reverie. "You have already taken that for granted," I returned. "If Bonteck had confided in me before the fact--which I assure you he did not--I should certainly have vetoed his plan for a fortnight's picnic on this God-forsaken bit of coral in the middle of nowhere. Yet, as his nearest friend, I can understand, perhaps better than any one else, why he was impelled to do it. Also, I can understand that he had no reason whatever to foresee the remotest possibility of any such tragic turn as things have taken." "Of course, of course; I think we shall all understand that after we have duly weighed and considered." The professor had locked his fingers over his knees and was regarding me thoughtfully. "Do you know," he went on, quite as if the main problems had been worked out and definitely wiped from the blackboard, "do you know, I am sometimes a little regretful that I didn't learn to smoke tobacco in my younger days? You gentlemen of the pipe and cigar seem to get so much comfort out of it." "It is never too late to mend--or mar," I told him; and with that we got up to resume our respective sentry beats by which, under the established routine, each of us would return to the camp end of the island by the route over which the other had come. When we parted it was with the agreement to meet again at the western extremity of the island, and I ventured to call my watchmate's attention to the fact that a lookout's duty was to look out. "Why, bless me!--of course it is," he laughed. "Now that you mention it, I remember that I wasn't very faithful on the way over here. I'll reform, Mr. Preble, I will, truly." And he went on his way around the north beach toward the bay of the galleon wreck. It is probably a rare thing for a crisis in the affairs of a group of nearly a score of people to turn upon so trivial a matter as the tobacco habit. There was still an unburned dottel in my pipe, and I could not think of wasting it. If I had not stopped and felt in my pockets for my one remaining match while the professor was still a trudging shadow on the white sands of the northern beach, the crisis might have come and gone undiscovered by any soul of our eighteen. For, just as I had found the match and was in the act of striking it, the ghost-like bulk of a ship loomed silently in the starlight a short half-mile to the eastward; a ship headed directly for the island and showing no lights. It was the _Andromeda_ again. XV THE MERRY WAR PUTTING the unlighted match carefully away in my pocket, I made a quick dash down the north beach to overtake the professor. I told him what I had seen, and he exclaimed, "Dear me--you don't say so!" much as if I had rushed up to assure him that the exact value of _pi_ in the circle-squaring problem had finally been ascertained. And then, quite placidly: "What do we do next, Mr. Preble?" I didn't want to tell him that, in all probability, the _Andromeda_ mutineers were merely coming back to dig for gold. That was still Van Dyck's personal secret. But it was not difficult to convince him that the yacht's errand was not friendly to us. "They are creeping up quietly, at the wrong end of the island, and with no lights showing," I pointed out. "Which means that they are not coming to take us off. If you will stay here and keep in touch with them while I run back to camp and give the alarm----" "Certainly," he agreed. Then: "I'm not to show myself?" "By no manner of means. Don't let them see you or hear you, but keep them in sight if you can do it without exposing yourself. I shan't be gone any longer than I can help." It was the better part of a mile down the beach to a point opposite the glade where our camp was pitched, and the night was warm; but I took small thought for either the distance or the heat. At the camp everybody but Van Dyck had turned in; at least, none of the others was in sight. Bonteck was sitting beside the expiring embers of the bit of cooking fire, with his head in his hands and his gaze fixed upon the patch of white ashes with its center spot of red coals. I came up behind him, touched his shoulder, and hastily whispered the news: "The _Andromeda_ is clawing up to the other end of the island just as she did before--at half speed, and with no lights showing." "Thank God she is back at last!" he muttered, starting up quickly. "It falls in at the right minute, Dick. I was just saying to myself that I'd go dippy if I couldn't fight somebody or something. Turn out the squad, as quietly as you can." Moving cautiously so as not to awaken any of the non-combatants, I aroused Grey, Dupuyster and Billy Grisdale and told them what was to the fore. Van Dyck herded us quickly out of the camp circle, and on the beach he groped under the palmettos and uncovered our scanty arsenal; the three pistols and the two knives we had taken from our former captives. If our lately awakened recruits were surprised at the appearance of the weapons they said nothing, nor was there any comment made when, out of the same hiding place, Bonteck drew a half-dozen stout, serviceable clubs and distributed them as he had the more modern weapons. "Now then, if you are all ready," he said, giving the word. "Set the pace, Dick, and we'll try to keep up with you." And a moment later we were running silently in single file along the north beach toward the eastern-point lookout where I had posted Sanford. In making me the pace-setter, Bonteck builded more wisely than he knew--more wisely than any of us knew at the time. Having just completed a mile dash at the best speed I could compass, I was fain to set an easy dog-trot for the return, so we were all comparatively fresh when we reached the scene of action and found the professor. Our lookout's report was brief and to the point. The _Andromeda_ had steamed up silently and was lying off the south shore at no great distance from us, and as yet there was no movement aboard; at least, the professor said he hadn't been able to see anything stirring on her decks. But Van Dyck, making a hasty reconnaissance, came back with better information. "They are lowering the electric launch by hand," he announced. Then he outlined the situation for us in a few brittle words. "You all understand, I take it, that they have not come back--secretly, this way--to rescue us. We may ignore their real object for the present and come to the immediate necessities. If we get possession of the yacht, we shall doubtless have to fight for it." "Just say when and how," Billy Grisdale cut in tersely, trying the strength of his club over his knee. Van Dyck sketched his plan rapidly, and it was evident that he had worked out the details in advance, basing his conclusions upon what he and I had seen on the night of the storm. "They will land a party in the launch, and our first move will be to capture every man of that landing party, dead or alive, and without making any noise. So don't use the firearms. If their boat's crew doesn't return within a reasonable time, they'll send again to find out what has become of it. When they do that, we'll repeat, and by eating them up a little at a time--but you get the idea, I'm sure." And to me: "Dick, will you take the command? You are better qualified than any of the rest of us." "You are doing very well, yourself," I told him. "Show us the way and we'll stay with you." "All right," he agreed briefly. "I think we all understand that this is likely to be our last chance, so far as the yacht is concerned. There are nine women up at the other end of the island who will, in all human probability, starve to death if we bungle this thing and let the _Andromeda_ get away from us. Keep that in mind when you hit, and hit hard!" Since the choice of position was one of the few advantages we should have in the coming struggle, we picked our way silently across the point to the wood fringe from which Van Dyck and I had witnessed the earlier landing. Judging from the little we could see in the starlight, the mutineers were making hard work of the job of clearing away the electric launch without the aid of the steam winch. In spite of Mr. Edison's continued and most ingenious efforts to find a substitute for the lead in them, storage batteries are still heavy contrivances; and at the end of it the weighty little tender got away from the men at the davit tackles and dropped into the sea with a resounding slap that might have been heard half-way around the island. For a minute or two the small boat lay chafing against the side of the yacht, and there was no attempt made to man it; from which we inferred that the mutineers were waiting to ascertain if the crash of the sudden launching had given the alarm. In view of the fact that the invaders had every reason to believe that we were all either dead or dying from starvation by this time, it struck me that they were excessively cautious, and I spoke of this to Van Dyck. "That is the 'spiggotty' of it," he commented in low tones. "Lequat's name is French, but I'd be willing to bet that he and his backers are of the mongrel breed--dock-rats who will fight only when they're cornered." "Will they be well armed, do you think?" I asked. "Heaven knows. Every man that Goff picked up in New York may have been a walking arsenal, for all I know to the contrary. As for the yacht itself, there were only a few sport guns in the cabins, as you saw for yourself." Whether they were over-cautious, or only prudently careful, the intending invaders waited fully ten minutes, I should say, before making another move. But at last, silhouetting themselves as black shadows against the white paint of the _Andromeda's_ side, a boat's crew came over the rail, dropping man by man into the launch. We counted the shadowy figures slipping over the yacht's side. As in the yawl's crew, there were seven; a man apiece for us, and one extra, for good measure. "I'll take that odd man," Billy Grisdale whispered in my ear. "I can't go back to Edie with less than two scalps at my belt, you know." "Shut up!" I hissed. "They'll hear you, and then you won't get even one." The launch got under way at once and presently came skimming through the gap in the reef, the narrowness of which had proved the undoing of the yawl on the night of the hurricane. The electrically driven boat made no sound other than the purring murmur of its motor and the soft, ripping sheer of the sharp cutwater as it turned a tiny bow wave. Once within the lagoon, the launch was steered straight for the beach. This time, as it appeared, there was to be no shilly-shallying. A landing was made within a few yards of our covert. Six of the men got out when the tender's prow slid up on the sand, and the remaining man rummaged under the thwarts and heaved a pick and a shovel ashore. Then a curious thing happened. Without a word uttered, the six men on the sands became suddenly involved in a fierce and mysterious struggle. Twice one of the six broke away, only to be instantly caught and dragged back by the others; and it was not until the brief battle was over, and five of the men were shoving the sixth ahead of them into the wood, that Van Dyck found the answer and passed the word to the rest of us. "That's Goff, and they're making him show them the way! Come on!" We followed, and there was no need for any great amount of caution on our part. The men ahead of us were trampling through the jungle undergrowth with little heed for the noise they made, and we were close upon them when they halted in the small open space marked by the lump of coral. Since it was well-nigh pitch dark in the tree-shadowed glade, a light of some sort was a necessity, and one of the men knelt to kindle the wick of a ship's lantern. The sputtering flare of the match illuminated a striking tableau for us. Lequat, hatless, and with a red bandanna bound around his head in true buccaneer fashion, stood aside, leaning upon the bared blade of a huge weapon, half sabre and half machete. Two of the others held Goff pinioned by his arms, and the odd man had the pick and shovel. Van Dyck held us back until the lantern was fairly alight and the kneeling man was about to rise. Then, at his whispered "_Now!_" we rushed the silent group. It is a worn saying that a man knows no more of a battle than that small portion of it which may fall to his share. My share in the sharp struggle which followed was simple enough. Out of the confused tangle of legs and arms and writhing bodies I dragged my man, one of Goff's pinioners whom I had picked out in the brief flare of the lantern-lighting match. That, and a quieting tap from the butt of the big Navy pistol which had fallen to me in the distribution of weapons, was all there was to it. Before I could get in again, the fight was over, and Van Dyck was stooping to put a match to the wick of the ship's lantern which had been kicked aside and had gone out in the scuffling battle. The scene revealed by the renewed lantern light was not without its element of grim humor. Our victory had been sweepingly complete, and the small open space was strewn with the prone figures of the vanquished. Van Dyck had been thoughtful enough to bring a coil of light tent rope with him from our camp, and Grey and Grisdale were already at work like trained thief-takers binding and gagging the captives. Over in the edge of the glade the professor was trying mercifully to replace the dislocated shoulder of a small man who was groaning and squirming under him, and begging in broken English to be spared; the patient pleading while the amateur surgeon was assuring him blandly that the disabled arm would be pulled out by the roots if he raised his voice above a whisper. It was Elijah Goff, fully reinstated now as a victim of circumstances like ourselves, who went to the professor's assistance. "Lemme sit on his head while you yank, Professor," he said with dry humor. "I'm owin' that tarnation little rat suthin' f'r the way he's been keelhaulin' me." And thereupon we saw that the professor's capture was the ex-steward, Lequat, whose formidable weapon the mild-mannered old scholar had actually broken off short at the hilt with the same shrewd bludgeon stroke that had crippled the ex-steward's sword arm. After our five prisoners were safely trussed up and silenced with primitive gags made of knotted rope, we wasted no more time upon them. The man left with the boat remained to be secured, and his removal from the scene was a bit of routine. He had come ashore to stand by the bow of the beached launch, and apparently he mistook us for his own people returning. Anyway, he made scarcely a show of resistance when we surrounded him, and Billy Grisdale garroted him with the bit of knotted rope which was presently forced between his teeth to keep him quiet while we bound and dragged him back into the wood to the general rendezvous. The launch's manning thus disposed of, we held a sober council of war, with Goff on the witness stand. The old skipper told his story briefly, and in the main it accorded fairly well with Van Dyck's prefigurings. The mutiny and seizure of the yacht had been real enough, and the conspirators had chosen the moment when the sham uprising was to have been staged; namely, the evening when Edie Van Tromp's cry of "Land-o-o-o!" had announced the _Andromeda's_ approach to the island. Goff had been overpowered on the bridge, and the Americans, Haskell, Quinby and the others, had been imprisoned in the engine-room and fire hold, where, so Goff told us, they were still confined. The skipper could not say how many members of the crew proper were in the conspiracy, but those who were not had doubtless been overawed by threats of violence; given the choice between obedience and submission, and walking the plank. "All I know is it ain't a sailormen's crowd," said the grizzled old Gloucesterman in summing up. "It's mostly cooks and cabin stewards, and that kind of riff-raff, with that fat Frenchman, Bassinette, at the head of 'em. Near as I could figger, they're revolutionaries o' some sort. They got an idee there was big money some'ere's aboard, and I cal'late they've dum near tore the insides out o' the yacht lookin' for it." "Bassinette, the _chef_?" Van Dyck queried. "Then this fellow Lequat wasn't the ringleader?" "No more 'n I be," said Goff. "He's nothin' but an understrapper, carryin' out orders. But he's a navigator--of a sort." "Where has the yacht been all this time?" It was Grey who wanted to know. "Been mostly standin' off and on over to the Central American coast, unloadin' a cargo of guns and ammynition that was picked up off the Isle o' Pines," was the calm reply. "When they got through with that, Bassinette told me he was comin' back here to take you folks off. I mistrusted he was lyin' like a whitehead about what he was comin' for, but it looked 's if any chance was better 'n none, so I give him his bearin's, which I suspicion Lequat wa'n't sailorman enough to figger out f'r himself. There was bad weather brewin' when we got here, and they had to cut and run f'r it afore a gale o' wind." "Did they try to land at all?" Billy Grisdale asked. "Couldn't prove nothin' by me," said Goff, and I got the idea he was trying to fight off from the question. "They had me locked up in one o' the cabins." At this, Grey broke in again. "You say you mistrusted that these fellows were not coming back to take us off, Captain Goff: what were they coming for, then? And what were they planning to do back here in the wood with a pick and shovel just now when we closed in on them?" I saw Van Dyck's hand shoot out to grip the sailing-master's arm. If it were a warning, the old skipper was quick to act upon it. "There's an old yarn about a buried gold-mine some'res in these waters," he drawled. "I guess putty near everybody's heard it, fust 'r last. Shouldn't wonder if Bassinette and his crowd think they've got a pointer on it. Maybe they thought that was what we was headin' here for. Wouldn't supprise me a mite." The explanation was certainly an ingenious one, and it fully proved the justice of Van Dyck's trust in the old fisherman skipper. But the questioner was still unsatisfied. In his proper environment, as I have said, Mr. John Grey figured as an able young lawyer, and when he could forget Annette and his new-found happiness long enough, the lawyer gifts came easily to the front. "What made them bring you ashore, Captain Goff?" he asked shrewdly. But Goff proved to be far too old a bird to be caught napping. "Maybe they was cal'latin' to have me do the diggin'," he returned with a sly chuckle. "Wouldn't put it a mite beyond 'em." It was Van Dyck who brought the talk back to things present and pressing. "We know definitely now what we are up against," he said. "How many of the men are in this with Bassinette, Captain 'Lige?" "They kep' me too close to tell. Maybe half of 'em, 'r maybe more. And another thing--they've got guns and pistols, plenty of 'em." Some earnest of this we had had in the taking of the prisoners in the glade. They were all armed, but the weapons were for the most part out of date; pistols and knives, one repeating rifle of an old model, a pair of brass knuckles, a wicked looking "life-preserver"--a short leather club, lead-loaded in the striking end. But we found only a scattering score or so of cartridges for the firearms. These weapons we now shared impartially among ourselves, and when the professor volunteered to go back in the wood and stand guard over the prisoners, Van Dyck suggested that it was time we were making a reconnaissance in force in the enemy's direction, the war council having been held at a point about half-way between the glade and the beach. Nobody could say certainly what move the mutineers on the yacht would make next, and in spite of Goff's assurances to the contrary, Van Dyck was afraid they might take the alarm and run away, abandoning the launch's crew to whatever fate had befallen it. "Not much danger o' that," Goff insisted; and after Grisdale, Grey and Dupuyster had been posted in the forest fringe with instructions to keep a sharp lookout for renewed activities upon the _Andromeda_, Van Dyck drew Goff and me aside and went straight to the heart of things. "Mr. Preble and I were here on the beach that night when the yacht came up and then had to make a run for it, Captain 'Lige," he began. "Didn't you know they sent a boat's crew ashore that night?" Goff nodded. "Didn't know how much 'r how little you wanted t'other folks to know. Had me locked up in a cabin on the starb'd side and I saw the yawl get off--and saw that it didn't get back. Maybe you can tell me what happened to that boat-load o' scamps?" Van Dyck told our part in the happenings briefly, and the old Banksman chuckled delightedly. "Good stroke o' business--catchin' 'em that way when they was all fagged out with swimmin',"--adding vindictively: "only you ought to 've knocked every single one on 'em in the head, when you had 'em. As it was----" "Yes," said Van Dyck; "as it was?----" "As it was, we clawed back here just afore day the next mornin', and with the seas putty near rollin' the yacht's rail under, Bassinette made out to get ashore with the gasoline launch when it was just about as much as any man's life was worth to try it. He fetched back five o' the seven men that went ashore in the yawl. You said two of 'em was drowned, didn't you?" "They were," said I. "This man Bassinette," Van Dyck broke in. "He is the cook you picked up in New York. Did you know anything about him when you shipped him?" Goff shook his head. "Somethin' kind o' queer about that big lummux," he averred. "If I didn't know better, I'd 'most be willin' to go into court and swear he isn't the man I shipped in New York. Looks as much like him as two peas, but that's all. If we'd been anywheres to get rid o' him and pick up his double----" "Wait," I interposed. "We laid up for a day at Gracias á Dios with a disabled propeller shaft. Didn't some of the men have shore leave that day?" "By gravy, I b'lieve you've hit it, Mr. Preble!" Goff exclaimed. "It was after we left Gracias that I took to noticin' that Bassinette seemed sort o' different, somehow; didn't grin same as he used to when I'd stick my head into his galley. And he was consider'ble thick with a bunch o' them outlandishmen we picked up in New York ha'bor. Look 's if we'd all ought to be bored f'r the hollow-horn, Mr. Van Dyck!" It was beginning to look that way to me, too, but Van Dyck didn't push the inquiry any further. "We can let that part of it rest for the present," he said, and at his suggestion we joined the other three in the ambush at the beach edge. Up to this time there had been no further sign of life on board the yacht. Though there were no premonitory symptoms of a storm brewing, the night was oppressively warm and there was hardly a breath of air stirring. Nevertheless, there is always some little movement in the sea, and during the interval which had elapsed since the launch party had left her, the _Andromeda_ had drifted a bit nearer in and was now fairly opposite the narrow reef inlet, and not more than a short cable's length outside of it. "If we could only contrive some means of making them come to anchor," Van Dyck muttered. "A bit of breeze would turn the trick, but there is no promise of that." "He'd be too foxy to anchor, even if 'twas blowin' half a gale," was Goff's reply to this. "What I say is to take the launch and board him. There's six of us, and we've got the tools, such as they are. I cal'late if we could fight our way to the engine-room hatch and let Haskell and his gang out----" "I am afraid to risk the boarding," Van Dyck admitted. "Not for ourselves, but for the women who will be left if we shouldn't succeed. There are good glasses on board, and those fellows probably know how to use them. If it were only a little darker, so that we might stand some chance of getting out to them before they could recognize us--but they'd be sure to, and put steam to the yacht." I guess the suspense was getting on our nerves. I am sure it was on mine. The very silence was oppressive, and it seemed as if the lapping of the little waves on the sands and the rise and fall of the gentle swell on the reef were hushed. Then, too, the white yacht in the near offing grew more and more like a ghost ship as we strained our eyes watching her for some sign of life. It was Dupuyster who broke the spell. "I say, Bonteck, old dear, don't you know, I'm the only original human fish, when it comes to swimmin'," he whispered. "Toss me the sharpest knife in the lot, and I'll toddle out there and anchor the _Andromeda_ for you--dashed if I don't." Of course, there was a low-toned chorus of protest. Sharks occasionally came into the lagoon, as we all knew, and since ships usually have a following of them in tropical waters, there would certainly be one or more of the man-eaters in the deeper water beyond the reef. Also, admitting that a swimmer could reach the _Andromeda_ without having a leg or an arm bitten off on the way, there were mechanical difficulties to be overcome. The anchors were catted at the bows of the yacht, with the slack of the cables taken in, and the anchor flukes themselves triced up in heavy hempen slings in man-o'-war style. It would be a man's job to cut the slings with anything short of a sharp axe. Our arguments nugatory were hurried but thorough. If Dupuyster should live to reach the yacht and climb aboard, he would certainly be discovered from the bridge before he could cut the lashings to free an anchor. And, admitting that the thing could be done, what would be gained? What was to prevent the mutineers from throwing the steam winch into gear and heaving the anchor up again? While we were expostulating, Jerry--not the carefully Anglicized clubman we had known, but a most surprisingly red-blooded reincarnation of him--was calmly preparing to get himself shark-bitten. "I say, by Jove, you chappies had better hedge on some of those bets you're making," he drawled. "If Uncle Jimmie were here, he'd take you, don't you know. Find me that knife, and a couple of the biggest pistol cartridges. That's all I want." Provided with his simple armament, Jerry, stripped to the buff, and with the knife and the cartridges secured in an impromptu belt made of his discarded undershirt, wormed his way down to the beach and took the water under the bilge of the stranded launch as silently as a fish. When he came up from the long dive we could trace him by the faint phosphorescence showing now and then in the ripples of his wake. It was a horrible strain, watching him as he worked his way across the lagoon to the inlet through the reef. Every instant we were expecting to see the disturbance which would mark the lunge and back-roll of an attacking man-eater, and I could not help wondering which of the two women, Conetta or Beatrice Van Tromp, would reproach us the more bitterly for letting him go to his death. We lost trace of him after his faintly luminous trail disappeared at the gap in the reef. Just then the windless calm was broken by a mere breath of air stirring out of the southeast, and the _Andromeda_, still a dead hulk swinging gently to the slow heave and dip of the scarcely perceptible swell, was now drifting landward by more than the measured inchings; she had decreased her earliest distance by considerably more than half. It could be only a matter of minutes before whoever was in command would have to give her sternway with the engines to keep her from going on the reef, in which case Dupuyster would have taken his life in his hand for nothing. A half-dozen backward turns of the big twin screws would take the yacht out of his reach, and would probably take her out of soundings so that a dropped anchor would find no bottom. Van Dyck whispered all this to me while we were holding our breath and making our eyes water in the effort to get another glimpse of the swimmer's trail. "He'll never make it--never in this world!" Van Dyck concluded in the stifled whisper. "We were criminal fools for letting him try it. It's sheer suicide, and we all knew it!" "I have forgiven him," I said grimly. "Forgiven him? For what?" "For playing fast and loose with Conetta. He has asked her, you know, and she has said 'Yes.' And in spite of that, he has been making open love to Beatrice Van Tromp ever since we were put ashore here." "Don't make a damned jealous idiot of yourself!" was the hot retort. "If you weren't bat-blind in both eyes----" The interruption was the thunderous racket we had by this time given up all hope of hearing. With a mighty splash and a deafening clamor from the paying-out cable, the _Andromeda's_ starboard anchor let go, and from the shortness of the uproar we knew that it had taken ground upon the outer ledges of the reef. Following the rattling clamor, we heard the pad-pad of running men, and were able to guess that the slack discipline of the mutineers had been responsible for a deserted forward deck. There was a barked-out order in a foreign tongue from the bridge, a hissing of steam, and the power capstan was promptly set in motion to break the anchor out of its hold. At the second or third turn of the capstan something happened; a snapping explosion up forward, and a prolonged hammering and grinding, as if the steam hoisting machinery were patiently and painstakingly wrecking itself. In the midst of this new turmoil we saw a slender white figure shoot over the yacht's bow in a headlong dive, and heard the crackling spatter of a pistol fusillade opened upon the diver from the bridge. "We'll hang the last living man of them if they got him!" Van Dyck declared vindictively, when the velvety silence of the tropical night had settled down again, and we had looked earnestly but in vain for some sign of the diver from the yacht's bows. Then he turned to Grey: "Jack, you'd better drop out and run back to camp. It is hardly possible that the women are sleeping through all this war noise. You'll know what to say. Tell them to keep together and to make no noise. They're out of the danger zone, and we'll make it our business to try to prevent the scrapping from drifting down to that end of the island. Don't say anything about Jerry. We won't give him up until we have to. That's all; but hurry back. We'll probably be needing you by the time you've made the round trip." Grey slipped off silently, doubling the sandspit point of the island in order to have the unmenaced north beach for his speedway. After he was gone there was a terrible wait for the four of us left crouching in the shadow of the palms. For what seemed like an age there was no sign of our forlorn-hope swimmer. As nearly as we could judge from the noises on board the yacht, the mutineers were trying to repair the disabled capstan. Apparently it didn't suit them to be tied by the leg and unable to run away. "Let me have that old rifle, Billy," said Van Dyck; this after the capstan noises had been located. Lying flat, Bonteck aimed as well as he could in the uncertain light, and we distinctly heard the clang of the bullet as it penetrated the metal bulwarks of the yacht's stem. The single shot did the business, and we heard no more hammerings at the crippled machinery. Beyond this, we waited again while the minutes dragged on, leaden-winged, slowly but surely extinguishing the hope that Dupuyster had escaped. But, after hope was quite dead in the four hearts of us, and a hot thirst for vengeance was beginning to take its place, we saw Jerry in our own edge of the lagoon, swimming slowly and rolling from side to side with his stroke, like a man utterly spent. I think all four of us dashed wildly into the shallows to drag him out and rush him to cover in the jungle edge. He was gasping for breath, and even in the poor light we could see a long red splash on one thigh; a cut from which the blood was still oozing. Van Dyck stripped his own shirt to bandage the wound, and the reincarnated one protested manfully. "Bally lot of trouble you're takin' over a scratch," he gurgled. "Bleedin' will stop of its own accord when it gets ready. But if any gentleman should--er--happen to have a drop of cognac about him----" Grisdale hadn't, and I hadn't, and I was pretty sure Van Dyck hadn't. But at a three-handed chorus of "Sorry, old man," Elijah Goff, the one dyed-in-the-wool teetotaller of the _Andromeda's_ company, produced a pocket flask, and Dupuyster took a single swallow from it; swallowed, choked a bit over whatever fiery liquor it was, and then told us his story while we were giving him a rough-handed rub-down and helping him into his clothes. "No, the swim wasn't anything, but I had a perishin' lot of trouble climbin' aboard the old tub. After that, it was easy; all I had to do was to cut a lot of the rope things you told me about and stand clear, what?" "But the capstan?" Billy Grisdale wanted to know. "How the dickens did you contrive to put that out of commission?" "Dynamited it, old dear; stuck the two bally pistol cartridges into the cogwheels, don't you know, and hoped they'd do their bit when the wheels began to turn. If you'll believe me, the shop was fairly dizzy with bits of iron and things when they put the steam on. I didn't wait to see the third act. His Jaglets was waitin' for me, and I took a header to get a fair start of him, don't you see." "A shark!" gasped Billy. "You've named him. The perishin' beggar had followed me all the way out to the yacht and couldn't quite make up his mind to try it on. But comin' back he got his nerve screwed up, by Jove. It was under the edge of the reef, and when he turned for the snap I stuck the bloomin' knife into him and left it there." "But--but he bit you in the leg!" said Billy, and I knew he was swelling up like the frog in the fable with a huge access of hero-worship. "Chuck it, Billy," said the shark fighter good-naturedly, and for once in a way the British accent was lacking. "Let's say that I scratched the leg climbin' over the reef. It'll sound better." Just then Grey came back, having cut across the island from the north beach by way of the glade where the prisoners had been left. His report was reassuring. The women, and two of the men, the major and Holly Barclay, had been awakened by the firing, but there was no panic--proof positive that we had finally vanquished the greater part of the civilized conventions. Ingerson was still asleep, and Grey suspected that he had found the last of the brandy bottles, the one which Van Dyck had been jealously hoarding against an emergency. Grey admitted that he had lied freely to the non-combatants, particularly in assuring his wife and Conetta, Madeleine and Beatrice Van Tromp and Edie, that none of us was taking any chance of getting hurt. He had repeated Van Dyck's instructions, and they had promised not to scatter, and to stay under cover--such cover as the wood afforded. Finishing up, Grey spoke of the professor and his guard-mounting over the six pirates. "He has the lantern between his knees, and I found him dissecting some leaves he had picked up, and poring over that little pocket Botany of his," he chuckled. "He didn't see me at all until I came up and said 'Scat!' to him." This part of the report was rather disconcerting. With the professor engrossed in his favorite study, anything might happen in the way of a jail delivery, and I said as much. "Go and see about it, Dick," was Van Dyck's order, and I was about to obey when Billy Grisdale gripped my arm and pointed toward the yacht. On the deck of the _Andromeda_, where everything had been quiet since the firing of the shot which had driven the capstan repairers from their job, a dimly defined group of toilers were hoisting some heavy object to the roof of the raised deck house. I couldn't make out what they were doing, but Bonteck's eyes were better than mine. "Duck and scatter!" he commanded sharply. "It's the little signal gun, and they're training it on us!" We had dodged and run nimbly to right and left before the little brass signal piece belched fire and sent a volley of nondescript missiles hurtling into the scrub palmettos under which we had been crouching. What the desperate chief cook of the _Andromeda_ hoped to accomplish by this haphazard bombardment of the jungle which, so far as he knew, sheltered a half-dozen of his own men as well as whatever enemy he thought he was firing at, was a mystery unexplained until after our scattered force was reassembled safely out of range. But we were made to understand quickly enough. Under cover of the cannon fire, the electric launch slid out from its landing place upon the placid waters of the lagoon, cut a swift half-circle and headed for the open sea and the yacht. While we were watching and waiting, some one of the mutineers had emulated Dupuyster's daring example, and had swum ashore to steal the launch, thus putting an end to any notion we may have had of fighting the little war to a conclusion on the _Andromeda's_ deck. XVI A MARATHON AND AN ULTIMATUM CALLING this bold cutting-out of the electric launch the close of the first bout, we were obliged to admit that the enemy had taken a hard fall out of us at the finish. As matters now stood, the advantage was with the mutineers. To be sure, we had six of their men, including their first mate and navigator, safely laid by the heels; and Jerry Dupuyster's plucky adventure had tied up the yacht, temporarily, at least. But without a boat we could not press the fighting, and the six hostages were more likely to prove a burden than a forfeit with which to bargain. Bassinette, or whoever it was who was commanding the mutineers, would know that he was dealing with men who would neither starve nor slay their prisoners; though he should have known, and doubtless did know, that we ourselves were by this time in dire straits for food. And as to the tethering anchor chain, they would surely be a witless lot aboard of the _Andromeda_ if they should not remember that they could compel Haskell and his mechanician assistants to cut the cable. It soon developed, however, that the amateur pirates were not thinking of running away. Shortly after the electric launch had whisked to safety under the stern of the yacht, it appeared again with a new crew to man it. At first we thought the militant chief cook was going to attempt a sortie and a rescue of the prisoners, but he had a better scheme than that, as we were presently to learn. Keeping outside of the enclosing reef, he sent the launch slowly westward, holding it far enough out to be beyond pistol range, but paralleling the reef as if seeking for another inlet. Elijah Goff hazarded a guess at his intention. "You folks 've got a camp o' some sort, hain't ye?" he asked; and when Van Dyck gave the expected affirmative: "I guess maybe he's spyin' 'round to find that camp. He cal'lates that'll be your weak spot, if you've got one." That was enough to set us swiftly in motion, of course, and by hastening we kept abreast of the launch all the way along the south side of the island, though with no little difficulty, since, under the fair certainty that the boat's crew had firearms, we dared not show ourselves on the beach. At the western end of the island Grey cut across to carry word to the women, while the rest of us fought with the jungle and so kept the launch in sight all the way around the point. Doubling the western reef ledge, the reconnoitering boat party proceeded to pass the northern shore of the island in review; and again we kept the pace, watching each inlet through the reef narrowly as the launch approached it, and hoping, rather than fearing, that the mutineers would turn in and attempt a landing and so bring matters to a crisis. It was grueling work keeping abreast of the motor-driven tender, and by the time we had made the complete circuit of the island, we were wringing wet with perspiration, and spent with running. It was not until after a second circuit of the island was begun, with the launch still dribbling along outside of the reef, that we came to the full knowledge of what the mutineer chief was doing. He assumed that we would be following him and keeping him in sight, and he meant to run us to death; in other words, to keep us running until we could run no more. He doubtless knew, or guessed, that our camp was at the opposite end of the island from the treasure plantation, and that we couldn't guard both at the same time. The second lap of the Marathon was a sheer fight for life, or, rather, for the breath to sustain life. If we could have kept to the beach without drawing the fire of the launch it would not have been so bad, but a single attempt to do this brought a flash and crack from the sea, and we had to dive to cover again. By the time we reached the camp end of the island this second time, Grey was reeling and tripping like a drunken man, and Van Dyck ordered him out of the running ranks. "Stay by the women!" was the gasped-out command, and thereupon we lost Grey. The completion of the second lap practically finished the five of us who were still in the race. When we came in sight of the _Andromeda_ we were staggering and stumbling and caroming helplessly against the trees and other obstacles. Unless we should be given a breathing space we all knew that the game was up, so far as we were concerned; but happily the breath-catching interval was given us. Reaching the inlet opposite the yacht, the mutineers steered the motor-driven tender boldly through it and headed for the island beach. The chief was evidently taking it for granted that he had worn us out and left us behind, and was making a quick dash to gain possession of the island. Van Dyck kept his head, in spite of the maddening fatigue that was fairly killing every man of us. "Down!" he panted hoarsely. "Get ready and hold your fire until you can see their faces--then let 'em have it!" At the most, we wouldn't have had to wait more than a minute or so; but Billy Grisdale was too young and too excited to wait. While the launch was still so far out as to make a shot a mere guess hazard in the starlight, Billy pulled the trigger of the pistol which had fallen to him in the distribution of the captured weapons, and the mischief was done. Of course, we all banged away at the crack of Billy's pistol, but there was every reason to believe that the volley went wide of the mark. In a twinkling the tender's motor was reversed, and there was a wild scramble aboard of her to get the emergency oars out to help her around. In the thick of it Van Dyck took a long-distance chance with the old-model rifle. There was a shrill scream and a flash of blue-and-green electric fire from the boat's motor to follow the shot, and the power went off. Goff's chuckle was like the creaking of a rusty door-hinge. "I cal'late they won't run the legs off'n us any more with _that_ push boat," he said; and since the launch's crew paddled hurriedly out to the _Andromeda_ with the motor still dead, the prophecy seemed to be in the way of fulfilling itself. Shortly after the last man had disappeared over the yacht's rail, the empty launch, apparently towed from the deck above, also disappeared around the stern of the _Andromeda_, by which we inferred that the mutineers had some notion of trying to repair it, or at least of determining to what extent its motor was crippled. Pending another move, we waited again, and were glad enough of a chance to lie quiet and have a breathing spell. While we were resting, Grey came up, pluckily refusing to be left out of the forefront of things. As before, he had skirted the northern beach and had crossed through the treasure glade to come up behind us as we lay watching the yacht. Sanford, he reported, was still holding the lantern upon the pages of his Botany book, and was only mildly curious to know what all the running and racing and shooting portended. At "Camp Hurricane," as Edie Van Tromp had named our storm-driven refuge, there was plenty of excitement, and quite naturally a good bit of alarm. Of the three men who might be said to be posing as "home guards," only one, Major Terwilliger, Grey told us, had offered to join the fighting force. Barclay was again playing sick, and Ingerson was sleeping, log-like, through it all. "I took it upon myself to turn the major down," said Grey. "He is too old to keep the pace we've been setting, so I told him to stay by the women, and left my pistol with him to chirk him up a bit. But I doubt if he'd put up much of a fight, for all his military title." "Ow, I say, old dear; you're off, there," Jerry put in quickly. "Uncle Jimmie will fight like a dashed old billy goat if he's pushed to it, don't you know!" And we were obliged to take Jerry's word for it. After the disappearance of the electric launch around the stern of the _Andromeda_ there were no sounds for a time; nothing that would enable us to guess what the mutineers' next move would be. But later there came a creaking of tackles, and the clanking of a steam winch--one of the smaller winches operating the boat falls. "Taking the tender aboard for repairs," I suggested; but Van Dyck said they were more likely lowering the long-boat, which was also motor-driven with a small gasoline engine for its propelling power. "How about it, Captain 'Lige?" he queried; and the sailing-master confirmed the guess, saying: "That's about the way of it. That con-dummed Frenchman is layin' off to give us another chance to play ring-around-the-rosy with him." Billy Grisdale had kept quiet for five full minutes, which was little less than miraculous. "Say," he broke in, "I've been hearing something like a file or a saw going out there on the yacht ever since the scrimmage was called off. Listen!" We did listen, and the sound was unmistakable. Van Dyck clicked the lever of the repeating rifle and sent a shot whistling over the _Andromeda's_ bow. There was a clatter as of hastily dropped tools and the filing noise ceased. "It'll begin again, just as soon as he's toled us away from here," Goff predicted. "He's got to gnaw himself loose from that anchor, and he knows it." Van Dyck took the hint. "We are going to keep as much as we've got," he declared. And then to Grey: "How well do you shoot, Jack?" "Couldn't hit the side of a barn, not even if it were painted white," confessed the rising young lawyer. It was at this conjuncture that Jerry Dupuyster surprised us again. "Me for the bally old pot-shotting. I'm fairly good at the birds, don't you know. Took the blue ribbon over the field at Lord Erpin'am's last fall--what? Give me the gun, and say when and where." Bonteck passed the rifle over to the reincarnated club idler. "You heard what Goff said. That infernal French sea cook will begin to run us again as soon as he gets the long-boat over the side. When that happens, you stay here and keep your ear out for that anchor-chain filing. If it begins again, aim a little high and invite them to quit." "I'm on," said Dupuyster. "But I'm dashed if I know why you want me to hold high on the perishers." "For the simple reason that they may be forcing Haskell or Quinby to do the work, and we don't want to kill any of our friends," was Bonteck's explanation. While he was speaking we heard the first broken sputterings of the long-boat's gasoline engine, and a little later the boat itself slid out like a white shadow past the _Andromeda's_ stem, and a third circumnavigation of the island was begun. Van Dyck stood up, tightened his belt and groaned. "We're in for another ride on the merry-go-round!" he lamented. "Fall in, you fellows." We fell in, and the word was well-chosen. Lying by for the half-hour or so after doing the double Marathon had stiffened every weary leg muscle. Cursing the mutineers for the lack, or seeming lack, of originality which was leading them to repeat an expedient that had failed, we ran on, taking to the beach now, and risking a volley from the long-boat for the sake of having a better running track. So running, and keeping cannily abreast of the white shadow in the offing, we had covered possibly half of the distance to the western end of the island when the crack of a rifle from the rear, followed instantly by a scattering fusillade, halted us abruptly. The rifle was replying spitefully to the fusillade as Van Dyck, who had been leading the race, wheeled, spread his arms and herded us into the back track. "They've played it on us!" he yelled. "There's only one man in that long-boat, and the others are trying to put something over on Jerry!" They were; and the trick had almost succeeded when we reached the strip of beach that Dupuyster was defending. The crippled electric launch, propelled by oars, and carrying possibly a dozen men, was half-way across the lagoon, heading straight for the beach, and coming on regardless of Jerry's rifle. Above the din of battle we could hear the shrill, squeaky voice of the fat cook encouraging his men. "Pull on ze oar, _mes braves! Sacré tonnerre!_ eet is but wan man dat shoot ze gon!" But when we came up there were five more to shoot, and instant and utter demoralization fell upon the attacking force. Shrieks of surrender in half a dozen different languages rent the still night air, and in a mad endeavor to turn the boat an oar was lost overboard. If our situation had not been so critically desperate, there was enough of the comic-opera element in the frantic attempt to retreat to have brought down the house. As it was, Van Dyck stopped the firing and shouted to the mutineers to come ashore and surrender. Some of the men were evidently sick of their bargain and wanted to quit, but the squeaky cries of the chief robber dominated the tumult, and under a renewal of our bombardment the launch was got around and headed back to the yacht with much splashing and hard swearing. Also, when the goal of safety was reached, we could make out dimly that the accommodation ladder was let down, and that two or three members of the boat's crew had to be helped aboard. A few minutes after this, we had audible proof of the correctness of Van Dyck's guess about the long-boat and the ingenious ruse to draw us off. The gasoline craft was coming back, as we could determine by the increasing loudness of its exhaust. Following its return to the yacht we were given another little breathing spell, and John Grey's quality of professional curiosity had an opportunity to show itself again. "I can't understand for the life of me why these fellows should come back here and fight us so desperately for a chance to get ashore," he protested. "You can't make me believe that they're doing it on the strength of a silly yarn that is three hundred years old." "What do you think about it, Captain 'Lige?" said Bonteck, ungenerously handing the tangle over to Goff. "I wouldn't put it a mite apast 'em," was the skipper's guarded reply. "There was a good deal o' talk among the men about buried gold-mines and such on the way down from New Orleans. I ain't no gre't hand at the foreign lingoes, myself, but I picked up a word or two here and there." "I don't more than half believe it, just the same," Grey persisted. "I tell you, these fellows are not fighting for the bare chance of proving or disproving that old story about the _Santa Lucia's_ buried treasure. They've got inside information of some sort, and I'll bet on it." "Maybe they have," said Goff, in a tone which said plainly that the matter was one not worth worrying about. Grey got upon his feet. "We have six of these pirates back here in the woods: why can't we make them talk and tell us what they are trying to do?" At this, Van Dyck took a hand. "They would lie about it, as a matter of course," he interjected. "Besides, their particular object doesn't make any vital difference to us. They are here, and our present business is to see to it that they don't get away again--with the yacht." Grey sat down again, grumbling. "I don't see that we are getting ahead very fast," he complained. "What in Sam Hill do you suppose they're waiting for now?" The answer to Grey's impatient query was at that moment coming around the _Andromeda's_ stern. It was the disabled electric launch again this time with only one man in it, and he was sculling it with an oar over the stern, slowly working his way toward the gap in the reef. When it came a bit nearer we could see that the loom of a broken oar had been rigged as a mast in the bow, with a white flag of some sort dangling from it. "A parley," I said; and Goff grunted acquiescence. But Jerry Dupuyster worked the lever of his rifle to reload. "Don't shoot, Jerry," Bonteck cautioned in low tones; whereat the emancipated idler chuckled. "Couldn't if I wanted to, by Jove; the bally cartridges are all gone, what?" The huge lump of a man in the stern of the launch stopped sculling when he was within easy calling distance of the shore, and the boat lost way. "Ahoy ze island!" he hailed, in a voice ridiculously out of proportion to his barrel-girthed bigness. "Get to work with that oar and come ashore!" was Van Dyck's brusque command, to which he added: "We've got you covered." "_Non, non!_ it ees ze flag of ze truce!" shrilled the voice. And then the fat cook handed out an argument that was much more binding: "Ve haf ze enchineers in ze hold shut up, and eef you shoot wiz ze gon, zey will be keel!" "Talk it out, then," said Van Dyck. "What do you want?" "Ve make ze proposal--w'at you call ze proposition. It ees zat you vill all go to ze ozzer end of zis island, _immédiatement_. W'en you do zat, ve leave you ze long-boat to go 'way, w'erever you like to go. W'at you do wiz Lequat and hees mens?" "Lequat and his men are where you won't find them in a hurry," was Bonteck's answer. "As to your demand that we go away and let you steal the yacht again, there's nothing doing." "_Sacré bleu!_ It ees ze--w'at you call heem?--ze ooltimatum. W'en ees come daylight, ve put ze leetle cannon on ze long boat and keel all--_oui_!" At this savage pronouncement we held a whispered consultation, the fat pirate sitting back in the stern sheets of the launch and calmly lighting a cigarette. Could we, dare we, take the risk of a daylight bombardment, even though the single piece of artillery were only the yacht's little brass muzzle-loading signal piece, with such iron scraps as the mutineers might be able to find or manufacture for the missiles? It was a dubious question. Though our island was nearly if not quite a mile in length, its greatest width did not exceed four or five hundred yards, and the little gun would easily put it under a cross-fire from either side. "Have they powder?" I asked of Goff. "Tain't likely they haven't--with them a-handlin' all that war stuff from the Isle o' Pines." "But nothing that would answer for grape-shot?" "Pots and kittles in the galley, and a hammer to smash 'em with," said the old Gloucesterman. "That's good enough, I cal'late." "Speak up, all of you," said Van Dyck. "Shall I try to drive a bargain with him for the long-boat? If he gives us enough gasoline, we might be able to make Willemstadt, on the island of Curaçao--with fair weather and a smooth sea. That is the nearest inhabited land, but it is something over a hundred-and-fifty-mile run." Grey was the first to "speak up." "I have more at stake than any of you," he said, thereby showing that the married lover may be stone blind to all things extraneous to his own particular and private little Eden. "Just the same, I say, fight it out." "Here, too," echoed Billy Grisdale; and Jerry Dupuyster also came up promptly in his carefully acquired accent: "Ow, I say! we cawn't knuckle down to a lot of bally cooks and sailormen, what?" "And you, Preble?" queried Van Dyck, turning to me. I refused to vote, merely saying: "You know I'm with you, either way." It was Goff's turn, but instead of taking it, he leaned over to whisper hoarsely: "Make him talk some, Mr. Van Dyck; tell him to work his proposition off ag'in, and say it slow. That boat's a-driftin' in, and if it comes a leetle mite nearer----" Van Dyck stood up and called to the maker of ultimatums. "State your proposal again, and let us have it in detail. Will you leave a supply of gasoline in the long-boat? Will you give us provisions, and a compass and sextant?" The fat _chef_ flung his cigarette away and we heard the little hiss of the spark as the water quenched it. "Ze proposal ees zis: zat you take your fran's and go back to ze ladees. Again I h-ask you w'at you done wiz Monsieur Lequat and hees men?" "They are here." "_Bien!_ You vill all go back to ze camp and ze ladees. You vill leave ze prisonaire; _aussi_, you will leave ze Captain Goff wiz ze rope tie on hees hand and on hees feets. To-morrow you come back on zis place, and you vill find ze longboat wiz ze gasoline, ze provisionments, _et_ ze compass _et_ ze sextant, to make ze voyage to La Guaira, to Curaçao, to anyw'ere you like to gone. _Voila!_ dat ees all." Again we took hasty counsel among ourselves, and whatever design Goff had been nursing in asking Van Dyck to prolong the parley was frustrated by another turn of the launch's drift. The boat was now edging farther out from the beach. One and all we were for refusing the detailed terms point blank, if for no other reason than that we were required to leave one of our number bound and at the mercy of the mutineers; one and all, I say, but Goff himself said nothing. "We can't consider the proposal in its entirety for a minute," said John Grey, voicing the sentiments of at least five of us. But now Goff cut in. "You're my owner, Mr. Van Dyck: if I could have a little over-haulin' of things with you----" Van Dyck promptly went aside with the skipper. They didn't go so far but what we could hear their voices--though not the words--and Goff seemed to be doing all the talking, and to be doing it very earnestly. But when they came back, as they did very shortly, it was Bonteck who told us the outcome. "Captain Goff has explained to me that the mutineers are obliged to make the terms include his surrender. Lequat is only a rule-of-thumb navigator, and if they don't have Goff they are likely to make a mess of themselves and of the yacht. For the sake of those whom we must consider first of all--the women--he is willing to take his chance again as a prisoner. If I thought there was any doubt about this fat devil carrying out his threat to bombard the island, I'd say 'No,' and fight for it. But we must remember that he can hardly fail to get some of us with the gun, or, if he shouldn't do that, he can keep us away from our water supply until we all die of thirst." Grey raised the only question that seemed to be worth considering. "We shall have only this scoundrel's word for it that the long-boat and provisions will be left for us," he objected. Van Dyck put the suggestion aside hastily; rather too hastily, I fancied. "We are obliged to take some chances, of course. Goff, here, will insist upon the fulfilment of the treaty terms. If they are not fulfilled to the letter, he will put the _Andromeda_ on the reef and take the consequences." Then he called once more to the man in the boat: "One word with you before we close this deal. This is piracy on the high seas. I suppose you know what that means when you are caught--as you will be, sooner or later?" We could see a big arm waving in airy bravado. "Eet is not'ing, Monsieur Van Dyck. I blow it away--_pouf!_ In Santa Cruz you vill h-ask ze gr-r-eat liberador w'at he shall tell you about 'Gustave Le Gros.' W'en you shall h-ask heem zat, you shall know it ees not'ing." "All right," Bonteck returned. "We'll fall back and leave the prisoners. Captain Goff will be with them, and he will surrender when you come ashore. But he will not be bound, and he will be armed, so you can govern yourself accordingly." The fat man waved an arm again and took up his sculling oar, raising no objection to the single modification of the ultimatum--that relating to the way Goff should be left. We waited until we saw the disabled launch creep out through the gash in the reef. Then we fell back upon the professor, who was still reading quietly by the miserable light of the ship's lantern. In a few words we explained the new situation, and the mild-eyed rider of an engrossing hobby got up and carefully dusted his trousers. "You gentlemen were on the ground, and you doubtless knew what was best to be done," he said in gentle resignation. "Shall we go back to the ladies?" We left Elijah Goff to watch over the trussed-up figures in the little open glade and set out upon our retreat, taking the northern beach for our route. Just before we came opposite the camp at the farther end of the island, we heard the renewed sputterings and poppings of the gasoline engine in the long-boat. The amateur pirates were landing, this time without let or hindrance. XVII CAPTAIN ELIJAH SCORES REACHING the camp under the palms we found a "state of affairs," as Conetta phrased it. The small fire had been kindled--not for any needed warmth, to be sure, but solely for the heartening effect of it, I imagined--and the women were huddled about it in various attitudes of more or less hysterical suspense, for which there was undeniably sufficient excuse, heaven knows. There were sobs and gaspings of relief when we came in with our original number undiminished; and I let the others answer the inevitable outburst of eager and anxious questions and drew Conetta out of the fire circle to tell her briefly what had transpired, and what we had failed to do. "And those horrid men are actually on the island with us now--at this very moment?" she breathed, the slate-blue eyes dilating. "What are they here for? What are they doing?" "They have come to get the boat-load that we captured; the six that Goff brought ashore," I evaded, still trying to keep Bonteck's foolish secret intact. "Then they will go away again?" "That is one comfort; and very soon, I should say." "But I don't understand. If they are not going to take us in the _Andromeda_, why have they come back to the island?" I hated to go on prevaricating to her, but until Bonteck should give me leave, I was not at liberty to tell her the whole truth. "Suppose we give them the credit of being at least partly human," I suggested. "Possibly they couldn't find it in their hearts to let us stay here and famish slowly. You mustn't forget that they've promised to leave us the long-boat and some eatables." I could see well enough that she wasn't satisfied with that answer. She was far too clear-headed to take any such niggardly part for the whole. "You're not making it very plausible," she said. "How far is it to where we're going in the long-boat?" "Oh, it's quite some little distance," I replied, as easily as I could. "But with the sea as calm as it is now----" "It may not stay calm," she broke in; and then: "You say Captain Elijah was with you. Where is he now?" "He--er--he had to let himself be taken again, you know. The pirates insisted upon that. They have no real navigator in their outfit. That is probably the reason why they didn't put him ashore with us in the beginning." "Then Bonteck was right? Captain Elijah wasn't one of them?" "No, indeed. I'm frank to say I did him an injustice. He was overpowered and made a prisoner, along with Haskell and Quinby and the other Americans." "But why did that first six that you had the fight with bring the captain ashore with them?" Again I had to evade. "Goff didn't tell us that." She was silent for a moment. Then I got it hot and heavy. "Dick Preble, do you mean to stand there with a face like a Hindoo idol and tell me that six of you made a bargain with that wretched French cook to give old Uncle Elijah up?" "It was Goff's own proposal," I hastened to say, "and he insisted upon it--wouldn't have it any other way. Let us hope that he knew what he was doing--that he has some plan that may turn out better for us than a voyage in the long-boat." Then I switched forcibly, endeavoring to drag the talk away from the vicinity of Bonteck's secret. Thus far it had been kept hidden through all the various vicissitudes, and I didn't intend to be the first to betray it. "Goff's play was heroic, and all that, but not a bit more so than Jerry Dupuyster's swim out to the yacht. I'm taking back all the insulting things I've been saying about that young man, Conetta, dear. In spite of the frills and the idleness and the English apings, he is a man, a grown man, and altogether worthy of a good woman's love and respect. Now I've said it and I feel better." She looked up quickly, with that pert little cocking of her head that I had always loved. "Worthy of _my_ love and respect, do you mean?" I bowed. "Yes; that is what I mean." "And you want me to marry him?" It was a dreadful thing for her to ask at such a time and in such a place, with the others almost within arm's-reach. But they were all talking at once, and nobody was paying much attention to anybody else. "You are promised," I reminded her; "and if you can forgive him for chasing around after another woman----" "Hush!" she commanded, with a sudden retreat into the arms of discreetness. "They will hear you and say things about you--behind your back. What are we to do now--just lie down and go calmly to sleep, forgetting all about these horrid pirates at the other end of our island? I can't quite see us doing that. Can you?" It was just here that Bonteck cut in, saving me the necessity of answering. "When you are quite through making Dick jump the hurdles for you," he said to Conetta; and then he explained. We were not to take the mutineers wholly at their word regarding the implied promise not to molest us. The six of us who had been on the firing front were to do picket duty while the others tried to get a little sleep. The professor and Billy were to take the north beach, Jerry Dupuyster and Grey the south, and Bonteck and I were to vibrate between the two beaches, keeping in touch with the shoreward couples on either hand, thus maintaining a guard line all across the island. It was not until after this rather elaborate picketing plan had been put in train, and Van Dyck and I were cautiously feeling our way toward the agreed-upon frontier half-way down the island, that I ventured to find fault. "I don't know why you should make six of us unhappy when one or two would be enough," I complained. "You know well enough that our fat cook is asking nothing but to be let alone until he can make off with the loot. He's not going to trouble us any more." His reply was a cryptic generality. "I am hoping we are not entirely through with the fat cook, yet, Dick; in fact, I'm almost certain we're not." "What's gnawing at you now?" I asked sourly. "Just a suggestion," he answered half-absently, I thought. "We have something at our end of the island that is much more valuable--and desirable--than anything the pirates will find where they are digging now." The way in which he said it, as much as the thing itself, made my blood run cold. "The women, you mean?" "It's only a suggestion," he hastened to say; "a suggestion based upon a name. Let's forget it, if we can." We had groped our way for another hundred yards before I said: "It's a beautiful muddle! They won't find _your_ gold--the whereabouts of which seems to be a lot more mythical than any of the old Spanish sea tales--and they _will_ find the tidy little fortune we turned up for Madeleine." "Of course; they'll be sure to find that," he agreed, still speaking half-absently. "You talk as if you didn't care," I snapped. "Is Madeleine's dilemma any less sharp pointed now than it was when you cooked up this romantic scheme of yours for helping her?" "You shouldn't hit a man when he's down, Dick," he replied soberly. "You know how I was planning to play the god-in-the-car to this little bunch of people, and what a chaotic, heart-breaking mess I've made of it. With all sorts of horrors staring us in the face, you can't blame me if I go batty now and then. You'd do it yourself if you were staggering under my load. I'm to blame for all this, Dick; I, and nobody else." It doesn't do any particular good to rub salt into a wound--even a foolish wound. So I contented myself with asking a sort of routine question: "Does Madeleine know how she is being robbed?" "She does. I was obliged to tell her that much." "How did she take it?" "Like the angel that she is, Dick. She says the gold doesn't belong to her, any more than it does to anybody else who might dig it up; and that, anyway, it doesn't matter when there are so many more important things at stake." "She is quite right about that," I agreed. "With a chancy voyage in an open boat ahead of us----" "We'll never make that voyage, Dick," he said solemnly. "I think you know that as well as I do." "Why won't we?" "Because we are never going to be given the chance. You are not confiding enough to believe that this fat devil is going to keep his promise, to us, are you?" "But, good heavens--you're keeping our promise to him, aren't you?" I burst out. "To the letter--exactly and precisely to the letter," was his calm reply. "You heard what the Frenchman asked, and what I agreed to. He made three conditions; we were to go back to our camp; he was to be permitted to land in peace; and Goff was to be given up. We have kept faith in all three particulars. But he isn't meaning to keep faith with us at all." "You mean that he won't leave us the boat?" I gasped. "Not on your life. Goff told me we couldn't put the slightest dependence in anything he might say; and if I had been inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt over Goff's warning, his own boasting would have turned the scale against him. Did you remark what he said, just as he was leaving?--about Santa Cruz and the liberator?" I don't know why the fat man's boast hadn't made the proper impression upon me when he shrilled it out at us, or why I had failed to recall the name he had given as that of a Nicaraguan bandit whose cruelty and rapacity had long been a byword in the Central American republics. There must have been a blind spot in my memory at the moment, for the name and ill fame of Gustave the Fat were known even in distant Venezuela. "That fiend!" I choked. And then: "You never shipped Gustave Le Gros in New York as cook on the _Andromeda_!" "Oh, no. We shipped the real Bassinette, doubtless. Where and how the change was made--unless our repair stop at Gracias á Dios gave them their chance--I don't know." "Wait a minute," said I. "Isn't it occurring to you now that the Gracias á Dios stop might have been prearranged? Haskell couldn't account for that propeller shaft running dry, and neither could I, after I had examined it. It had every appearance of having been tampered with; sand or some other abrasive put into it. If such a thing were done, and timed so that we'd have to put in at Gracias----" "Sure!" he replied. "And the gold--my gold--was probably the main-spring of the whole plot. The secret of it must have leaked out some way in New York, and it was handed on to this bandit bunch; with Lequat to trail us, first to Havana, and afterwards to New Orleans. But that's all ancient history now. Our original job is still before us, and that is not to let them get away with the yacht and leave us as we were." We had reached the appointed picket line, and short detours to right and left put us in touch with Dupuyster and Grey on the south beach and Sanford and Billy Grisdale on the north. Grey had scouted ahead a little way, and he told us that the long-boat and the disabled electric launch were lying at the beach at the place which had been our late battle-ground, with two men guarding them. And Grisdale and the professor had a similar report to make concerning the mutineers' vigilance. Billy had also made a forward reconnaissance, and he had seen two sentries pacing back and forth on the sands in the little indentation which we had named "Spaniards' Bay." Van Dyck made no comment until after we had gone back to our mid-island post in the wood. Then he said abruptly: "How long do you think it will take them to dig up those gold bars and carry them down to the boat, Dick?" "Why, I don't know; with the number of men they've probably got on the job it oughtn't to take more than half an hour or so," I returned. "Thirty minutes; it's short--frightfully short," he said, as if he were thinking aloud. Then; "It's this suspense that takes the heart out of a man." It seemed a little odd that he should lament the shortness of the time in one breath, and in the next give the impression that he wished it were shorter. "What difference does their speed or slowness make to us?" I asked. "It is just a chance--just the rawest of all chances," he went on, ignoring my query. "I suppose I ought not to have let it hang upon such a weak thread; but there was no choice--no choice at all." "If you would describe the thread I might be able to come a little nearer guessing what you are talking about," I retorted. "Goff has a plan of some sort, but he couldn't take the time to go into details. As I've told you, he warned me that no dependence whatever could be placed upon the Frenchman's promise to leave the long-boat and the provisions. He advised me to accept the terms as they stood, and to make a show of keeping our part of them--as we have. Past that, we were to get in touch again, holding ourselves in readiness for whatever might happen." "And you don't know what is going to happen?" "No more than you do. You know how secretive Goff is, and, as I say, our time was short. I can't, for the life of me, see what Goff can possibly do to help out. I don't need to tell you the real reason why Le Gros insisted upon our surrendering him. He is the one man besides myself who knows, or is supposed to know, where my gold bars are buried, and Le Gros meant to make him point out the spot--has probably done so before this time. What Goff hoped to gain by putting himself into their hands, I don't know, but we may be sure that he has some scheme in his clever old head. He told me to watch the beaches, both of them, and to be ready to bunch our fighting half-dozen at any point, and at any minute." "Well, we're here and we're ready," I said, and the words were scarcely out of my mouth before Grey came over from the southern beach, groping his way blindly in the thicker darkness of the palm shadows. "Van Dyck--Preble!" he called cautiously, and then he stumbled fairly into our arms. "Something doing," he told us hurriedly. "One of the boats--the smaller one--is adrift and moving down this way. It doesn't seem to have anybody in it." "But I thought you said a few minutes ago that there were two men guarding the boats," I struck in. "There were, but they've gone somewhere. Jerry and I supposed they were sitting down in the tree shadows where we couldn't see them, but I guess they must have gone up into the woods with the others. If they were still on the beach they wouldn't let that launch drift away without trying to catch it." "That drifting boat is probably our cue," said Bonteck, instantly alert. Then to me: "Hurry over to the other shore and get Sanford and Billy, Dick--quick! Strike straight across the island with them, and work your way along the south beach until you find us!" I established contact with the professor and Billy without any difficulty and transmitted Van Dyck's order. Billy wanted to know what good the disabled electric launch would do us, even if it should drift ashore at some point where we could capture it, but I couldn't tell him that. "That's a future," I said. "Our job just now is to obey orders. Come on." Together the three of us plunged into the wood on a direct line across the island, and in a very few minutes we found Van Dyck, Grey and Jerry Dupuyster crouching in the shadows of the tree fringe on the south shore. Far up the white line of the beach we could see the dark bulk of the long-boat at rest, and in the nearer distance was the electric launch, still drifting down the lagoon toward us. "What's your guess, Dick?" said Van Dyck, as we came up. "There isn't a particle of current in that lagoon--you know there isn't." There wasn't, as we had proved many times, and yet the drifting boat was moving steadily in our direction. It was Billy Grisdale's eyes--the youngest pair of the half-dozen--that solved the mystery. "There's somebody in the boat--paddling," he declared. "Look steadily and you'll see his arm reaching over the side. He's lying down or kneeling so that you can't see anything but the arm." In a short time we could all see the propelling arm making its rhythmic swing over the side of the boat, and while we looked, the man in the boat sat up and went at his task in more vigorous fashion, beaching the boat presently in a small cove within a stone's throw of our crouching place. "It's Goff," said Van Dyck, when the paddler stepped out of the launch, and we made a rush for him. The old skipper had little enough to say for himself, save that he had improved a chance to slip away from the mutineers in the darkness, and had stolen the launch with the idea of getting it into our hands. Questioned by Grey as to how he had been able to get away with the boat without giving the alarm, the sailing-master gave such an evasive reply that I was set to wondering if he hadn't slain the two boat guards out of hand. But as to that, he was too full of his plan for our rescue to go into the particulars of his own adventure. Briefly, the plan he had evolved turned upon his success in securing one of the boats. For obvious reasons he had picked upon the launch, which the mutineers had towed ashore--probably because there were men left on the _Andromeda_ whom they were afraid to trust and they wished to keep in their own hands all means of communication between the yacht and the island. "Couldn't start the long-boat without that pop-engine makin' a racket that'd wake the dead," he explained; "and, besides, she's up on the sand till it'll take half a dozen men to shove her off. And the way they're out o' their heads, I cal'lated they wouldn't miss the launch--not first off, anyways." "I suppose they've all gone crazy digging for the Spanish gold," Bonteck said, meaning, as I made sure, to give the captain a lead upon which he was at liberty to enlarge in the hearing of the rest of us. "'Crazy' ain't a big enough word f'r it. You'd think the whole kit and b'ilin' of 'em was just out of a 'sylum. That's how it comes they hain't missed me yet. But we'll have to talk sort o' middlin' fast, I guess. When they do miss me, I shouldn't wonder a mite if there'd be blood on the moon. Now you've got a boat, what you goin' to do, Mr. Van Dyck?" With a boat, even a disabled one, in our hands we were once more upon a fighting basis. Goff had quickly confirmed Bonteck's assumption that Le Gros hadn't the smallest idea of keeping his word to us about the turning over of the long-boat, so we were justified in declaring war again if we chose. Bonteck's first proposal was to load our fighting squad into the launch, in which we could paddle our way through the nearest reef gap and around to the _Andromeda_, on the chance of taking the yacht by a surprise attack with Haskell and his engine-room and stoke-hold contingent to help us if we could contrive to liberate them. To this expedient Goff raised a very pertinent objection, which was immediately sustained by all. While we should be fighting to gain possession of the yacht, the women would be left practically undefended on the island--hostages whom Le Gros would immediately seize, and for the restoring of whom--not to mention any worse thing that he might do--he could exact any price he might ask us to pay. "No, that won't do," said Goff, when we were brought up standing by the insurmountable objection; "lemme get in with my notion. There's three oars in the launch, and a piece of another. By crowdin' the folks up a mite, you can get 'em all in at one load. S'pose you do it, and paddle round outside o' the reef and board the yacht, the whole kit and caboodle of ye. There won't be much fightin' to do. That pirate's got most of his bullies ashore with him. That's why he towed the launch--didn't want to leave it behind f'r the shaky ones to get hold of." Van Dyck drew a long breath. "That will do, if we're given time. But we shan't have time, Captain 'Lige. Long before we can paddle this dead weight of a tender down to the other end of the island, get our people aboard, and paddle back to the yacht with a load that will put us fairly down to the gunwales, it will be too late. The yacht will be gone." "Meanin' that these scamps'll get through with their job and beat you to it?" said the old Gloucesterman. "I been figgerin' that it's my job to see that they don't. While you're doin' your little do, I'll tack back to that place up in the woods and see if I can't keep 'em busy at the diggin' f'r a while longer. If you folks can make your turn and get things quieted down on the _'Meda_, all you got to do then is to slip that anchor cable quick as you can and put to sea. You're a navigator, Mr. Van Dyck, and you can take her anywhere that I could." "And leave you behind in the hands of these scoundrels who would burn you at the stake in revenge?" Bonteck exclaimed; a protest that was echoed instantly by every man of us. But the brave old skipper wouldn't listen. "There has come a time more 'n once afore this when it was a ch'ice between one life and a-many," he said, in his clipped New England drawl. "You folks go ahead and do your part, and I'll do mine." And before we could stop him he was gone. XVIII UNDER A GIBBOUS MOON BEING thus committed by Goff's capture of the electric launch to what promised to be the most chanceful of all the hazards of that strenuous night, we lost no time in setting about it. With all the good will in the world, the old skipper might not be able to do much for us in the way of delaying the return of the mutineers to the _Andromeda_, and it said itself that our one slender hope of success lay in capturing the yacht while it was, in a certain measure, undefended. Luckily, the launch's painter was long enough to serve as a tow line, and with five of us towing, and Billy Grisdale steering against the shoreward drag with an oar, we soon had the launch out of the danger zone. Once fairly out of sight of the long-boat and the beach of peril, we ran like flying fugitives, as jealous of the flitting moments as a miser of his gold. To save the utmost number of these precious moments, Van Dyck and Jerry Dupuyster dropped out of the towing rank after we were well down toward the western end of the island and cut across through the wood to arouse the camp, leaving four of us to take the launch around to the point at which the embarkation could be most quickly made. Having but a comparatively short distance to go after Van Dyck and Jerry left us, we arrived first at the agreed rendezvous, and I went aboard the launch to try to determine how we were going to handle and propel it with eighteen people crowded into its narrow limits. As Goff had said, there were three good oars, and the broken halves of another; but rowing from the thwarts, with the jammed lading we should have, was clearly out of the question. And the alternative--two or three of us standing up to use the oars as paddles--seemed to be quite as clearly impracticable. If the launch would suffice to float eighteen of us, trimming it as carefully as we could and sitting as tight as the shipwrecked sailors in the old song, we could hardly ask more of it. "Small room for so many of us, Mr. Preble--is that what is troubling you?" asked the professor, standing by while Grey and Billy Grisdale ran up to the camp in the glade to hasten the laggards. "Little space, and still less tonnage," I said. "I'm doubtful if she will float all of us at once." "Those useless storage batteries," he pointed out; "they are quite heavy, aren't they? Can't we lighten the boat by taking them out?" It was a good thought, and I set about acting upon it. But the batteries were built in snugly, and without a wrecking tool of some sort they could not be dislodged. There was a locker under the stern sheets, and rummaging in this for tools, I came upon a leather-cased object which proved to be far more serviceable than any wrecking crow-bar. It was an electric flashlight, and a touch of the switch showed that its batteries were alive and in working order. "Let's have a look at this driving mechanism before we jettison it," I said; and the professor held the light while I looked to see what Van Dyck's disabling rifle shot had done to the motor. To my great joy I found that the bullet had not short-circuited the motor, as we supposed; it had merely smashed the switch of the controlling rheostat. Working rapidly while Sanford held the flashlight, I was able to make a temporary repair that would enable us to utilize the motor, and I was giving the propeller shaft a few trial turns when Van Dyck and Jerry, and Grey and Billy came down to the beach with the hastily gathered ship's company; sixteen of them and the bull pup--for which latter Billy had been shrewd enough to make Edie Van Tromp sponsor and special pleader. As I had feared we should be, the eighteen of us and the dog were a frightful overload for the small launch, this though Van Dyck had made the fugitives leave every ounce of dead-weight behind in the camp. In addition, there was honest terror to make the hurried embarkation almost a panic. We had no assurance that the mutineer-pirates would take our quiescence for granted; we knew they wouldn't if the loss of the launch should be discovered. Every instant I was half expecting to see the fat bandit and his mongrel crew burst out of the shadowy wood to charge down upon us. In which event, there would be a bloody massacre; it could hardly be less. Fortunately, the attack did not materialize. In feverish haste we packed the small boat, with beseechings to all and sundry to sit close and sit tight, and even Ingerson, roused only a few minutes earlier from his brutish sleep, helped as he could, planting himself stolidly at the launch's gunwale and lending a hand like a man ashamed. When we were ready to put to sea, and I had shoved off and climbed in cautiously over the stern of the heavily laden boat, it became quickly apparent that the rehabilitation of the motor was the only thing that made the venture even tentatively possible. With the crowding there would have been no slightest chance of using the oars in any manner whatsoever. I am quite sure that the memory of that perilous boat voyage across the lagoon, out through the nearest break in the reef and along the seaward edge of the barrier coral to the point at which we had our first sight of the _Andromeda_ lying a bulking gray shadow in the light of a gibbous moon which was just rising, will stand out clear-cut for every soul of our little ship's company long after all other pictures have grown dim. Happily for us, the sea was as quiet as an inland lake; the open water hardly less than that of the sheltered lagoon. In passing through the gap in the reef the launch shipped a few bucketfuls, and for the moment I thought we must founder--as we should have if any one of us had stirred or grown panicky. But upon giving the silent little motor a bit more current we weathered the passage, and out beyond, where the gentle swell lifted and subsided evenly, we rode dry again. It was after we had passed the miniature surf line and were creeping eastward at the best speed I dared give the launch that I whispered to Bonteck, who was crouching with me over the motor controls. "How much have you told the others?" I asked. "Nothing more than that we were going aboard the yacht, and that there might be an attempt made to drive us off." "You could scarcely have said less. Is Goff still holding the treasure hunters, do you think?" "Something is holding them. We'd be hearing from them if there wasn't." "If we're lucky enough to reach the yacht without being seen and fired upon, how are we going to get aboard--with this crowd?" "The accommodation ladder is down." "I know. But it's on the starboard side--toward the shore. We can't rush it, not if there is any sort of defense--with the moon rising." "Don't throw chocks under the wheels!" he bit out. "It isn't a thing to be speculated upon; it's a thing to be done!" Somehow, I felt better after he said that. This was the old Bonteck--the Bonteck I knew best--coming to the front again, with the indomitable spirit that had once made him a leader who never knew when he was beaten--or rather a leader who refused to be beaten. Like all the rest of us, he, too, had suffered his sea-change and was the better and bigger man for it. Why we were not seen from the deck of the yacht long before we could come within striking distance was a circumstance for which we could not at the moment account. As I have said, the night was crystal clear; clearer, if possible, than at that earlier hour when the _Andromeda_ had come creeping up out of the east. Besides, the shrunken moon was now something more than a hand's-breadth above the horizon, and while its light was pale, it was enough to cast long shadows of the motionless vessel far out toward us. Yet there was no stir on the yacht's decks, and no alarm raised as our deeply laden boat stole along the outer edge of the coral reef, giving the rocks only so much margin as would serve to keep the low gunwales out of the back wash of the slight swell breaking over the barrier. As we drew nearer, with the motor running as silently as a murmur of bat's wings, we saw the reason for our temporary immunity from discovery. The treasure diggers were returning to the island beach with their spoil, or rather they were coming and going in a double procession, like an endless chain of roustabouts loading a Mississippi River steamboat, and, quite naturally, all eyes on board the yacht would be turned in that direction. A fire had been kindled on the beach to give light for the loading of the gold bars into the long-boat, and its red glow made boat and men and the backgrounding jungle stand out with sharp distinctness. Conetta, squeezed in next to Van Dyck, leaned over to whisper: "Are we back in the days of the old buccaneers? Have we been only dreaming that we were living in the twentieth century?" "What you are seeing is no dream," said Bonteck. "It's the real thing, and you'll probably never look upon its like again." Then to me: "A little more speed if she'll take it, Dick. They are rushing that boat-loading business, and what we do will have to be done swiftly or we'll be too late." I gave the boat's motor another notch of the electric throttle, and the bat's-wing murmur increased to a low humming. As if drawn by invisible hands the laden launch approached the yacht's bow on the seaward side. The need for haste was pricking me as sharply as it was Van Dyck, but prudent care came first. As matters stood, we were as helpless as a packed pleasure boat. One armed man at the yacht's rail could have held us off, encumbered as we were. Until we could have room in which to spread out a bit we were like a lot of shackled prisoners. So, when the yacht's bulk came between us and the fire-lighted scene on the beach, I switched the power off and let the launch drift by slow inchings until Dupuyster, crouching in the bow, was fending with his hands to keep us from bumping against the side of the _Andromeda_. So far so good. We had made contact, as the modern militarists say, but what the next move should be, I couldn't imagine. Above, and overhanging us, since our point of contact was under the flaring out-sheer of the yacht's bow, stretched the smooth white wall of the _Andromeda's_ body plating, with the bulwarks and rail far beyond the reach of the tallest of us. True, the accommodation ladder had been let down on the starboard side, and was probably still down; but with the moon rising, and the light of the beach fire playing full upon that side of the yacht, it would be simply inviting defeat to try for that. Fortunately for us, we had an inspired leader, and he knew exactly what he meant to do. Amidships on our side of the yacht the davit falls by which the long-boat had been lowered were still hanging as they had been left when the boat was put overside. Van Dyck passed a whispered word to Dupuyster to hand the launch along toward these hanging tackles, and I held my breath. Quite possibly six of us--counting Ingerson as one of the half-dozen--were young enough and agile enough to climb the tackles one at a time, but I couldn't see the barest chance of carrying out any such manoeuver as that with the overloaded launch for a take-off. "What's the notion?" I asked Van Dyck. "We can't board by way of those boat tackles. We shall swamp the launch, as sure as fate!" "Wait," he whispered back. "You've forgotten the coaling port." His reminder was entirely justified. But if I had remembered the two square openings, one on either side of the ship, through which the bunkers were filled, I should have dismissed their possibilities at once. The rawest landsman in our company would know that these openings would be closed from the inside--closed and gasketed and bolted to make them water-tight. "But how----" I began; but Van Dyck interrupted quickly. We were nearing the hanging tackles and he whispered his commands hurriedly. "Here is the port," he said, pointing out the joint lines of the coal opening. "Hand the launch back to it after I'm gone." And, as the boat falls came within reach: "Catch the tackle and steady her, and be ready to trim ship when I take my weight out." Mechanically I grasped the ropes as we drifted up to them, and with the cat-like agility of a practiced sailor, Van Dyck lifted himself gently out of our cockleshell and went up the dangling tackle to disappear silently over the yacht's rail. His purpose was evident enough now. He was going to try to get below and open the fuel port for us. Passing the word along to Dupuyster to hand the launch back to the coaling port, I helped as I could with the blade of the broken oar. Motionless presently under the outline of the square opening, we entered upon a period of breathless suspense. Being on the seaward side of things, we could not see how the long-boat loading was progressing, but every moment I was expecting to hear the pop-pop of the gasoline motor which would tell us that the gold robbers were putting off for the yacht. We could easily visualize the obstacles Bonteck would have to overcome in trying to reach the other side of the bunker port. He must make his way undiscovered to the engine-room hatch--which might or might not be guarded--get into communication with the imprisoned engineers and firemen and direct them to open the port for us. Past that, it was entirely within the possibilities that certain tons of coal might have to be moved before the port could be opened--an undertaking which would devour still more time, and which could hardly be carried out without giving the alarm to whatever ship's guard the fat pirate had left on board. Knowing all this, we waited in nerve-racking trepidation, hardly daring to breathe. Once, while we hugged the side of the yacht and held the launch immovable, there were footsteps on the deck above us. Hearing the faint click of a pistol, I knew that Grey or Dupuyster or Billy Grisdale was preparing for the worst, and I was in an agony of apprehension lest one of them should fire before this last-resort measure became actually necessary. But the footsteps died away, and nothing happened. All through this most trying wait, during which we could hear plainly the noises on shore, the shouts and cries, the crackling of the fire, and the men plunging through the bushes and dumping their burdens into the long-boat, the fortitude of the women huddled in our frail craft was heroic. There was never a whisper or a murmur, that I could hear. Only once, Conetta, whose place in the launch, now that Bonteck was gone, was next to mine, reached over and put a cold little hand in mine. It was Jerry Dupuyster who gave us the first word of encouragement. At the risk of losing his balance and going overboard he had laid an ear against the _Andromeda's_ side plating. "They're working on it," was the whispered word that came back to us in the breathless suspense; and a little later the coaling port began to open by cautious inchings to show us a widening breach in the yacht's side. It may easily say itself that there were thrillings and breath-catchings a-many to go with that desperate midnight unloading of the crowded launch through the bunker opening in the _Andromeda's_ side. The coal port was fully man-head high above the water line, and we had no anchorage save our finger holds upon the edge of the opening. How we managed it I hardly know. The women had to be lifted and passed up one by one, and I remember that it took two of us, Ingerson and myself, to get Mrs. Van Tromp hoisted up to the rescuing hands thrust out of the opening. I don't suppose she weighed much above two hundred pounds--no great weight for two able-bodied men to handle--but our insecure footing easily added another two hundred to the effort. While we labored, the increasing shore clamor told us that our time was growing critically short, and in the fiercer spurt of haste that ensued we came within an ace of swamping our frail foothold. "Quick!" said Bonteck, leaning far out to give me a hand when I was the last man left in the launch. But I had another thing in mind. "Elijah Goff has set a good example and I'm going to follow it," I whispered hurriedly. "There is a chance that I can get this pushboat back to the beach before the Frenchman finds out that it is gone. If I succeed, you can take him unawares when he comes off to the yacht and have the advantage of a complete surprise. I'll be with you when the clock strikes--if I don't get killed too soon." And I shoved off before he could reach down and grab me, as he tried to do. With the silent electric drive turning at its slowest speed, I edged the launch seaward, and after a little distance was gained, gave the propeller its full power. In our many patrollings of the beach I had marked an opening through the barrier reef at the extreme eastern end of the island, and through this passage I presently drove the launch, heading it down the lagoon toward the pirates' landing place. Hugging the shore, I made the approach as cautiously as might be. Everything favored the undertaking. The bonfire had been built a few yards down-beach from the long-boat, and its blaze served to make objects less easily discernible in the wan moonlight outside of the ruddy zone of firelight. The treasure diggers were carrying the last of the precious cargo down from the wood, and Le Gros himself was directing its loading with many gesticulations and a babblement of shrill oaths. Slowly the launch drifted up to the stern of the long-boat and I crawled forward and made the painter fast. The thing was done. It was done none too soon. There was barely time for me to flatten myself in the bow of the launch before the mutineers began to crowd into the bigger boat. I had only time to make sure that Goff was not among them before the popping engine set up its clamor, and the fat chief flung himself down beside the tiller, so near that I could have reached up and touched him. "Shove off, then, _mes braves_!" he yelled; and in some confusion we got away and headed for the yacht, the long-boat towing the presumably empty electric launch. Taking it as a matter of course that Van Dyck and the others, with the help of Haskell and the liberated prisoners, had by this time gained possession of the _Andromeda_, I had an exceedingly bad half-minute when, as the long-boat lost way at the foot of the accommodation ladder, Le Gros got up, stumbled forward, and climbed the ladder to the yacht's deck, unopposed, and, taking his place at the rail, began to screech out his orders to the boat's crew. What had happened during my brief absence? Had somebody discovered the presence of our boarding party and clapped the hatch down upon it before Van Dyck could lead it out of the bunker hold? It looked very much that way. Meanwhile, my own situation had suddenly become embarrassing, not to say perilous. I had confidently expected to see the fat villain surrounded and overpowered the moment he set foot on the yacht's deck. Since nothing of the kind had taken place, I knew it could be only a few minutes at the farthest before I should be discovered and either summarily knocked on the head or thrown to the sharks--or both. Yet there was nothing to be done, or if there were, it didn't occur to me, though, as the dullest imagination would prefigure, I was trying mighty hard to make it occur. While I crouched and cowered in the bottom of the launch, endeavoring to make myself look as much as possible like a heap of cast-off clothes, the unloading of the gold bars was begun, with the fat fiend leaning over the yacht's rail to shrill curses at his men. This time there was no roustabout procession. _Sacré_-ing and swearing like a man possessed, Le Gros got his crew strung out in a long line leading from the accommodation grating up the ladder and forward to some point on the yacht's fore-deck, and along this line the gold ingots were passed from hand to hand. Judging from the internal thunderings that began when the mounting stream of heavy chunks of metal got fairly in motion, I gathered that the fore-hold was to be made to serve as the pirates' strong-room. And still our attacking party, if we had one, made no move. I was sweating like a patient in the hot room of a Turkish bath when the last of the apparently interminable string of gold bars went up the ladder and the fat bandit gave the order which proved his calculated perfidy, and, incidentally, let me know that my time was come. "Br-ring dose boat to ze davit and 'oist dem aboard!" he commanded; and then, as if this final order had been the signal for which it had been waiting, pandemonium broke loose on the _Andromeda's_ fore-deck. A confused clamor of shots, yells, curses and bludgeon blows rose upon the midnight air, and, hasten as I might and did, the battle was as good as fought and won before I could clamber over the long-boat and dart up the ladder and hurl myself into it. Upon reaching the deck I saw that I might have spared myself a large share of the anxieties if I had had a little more confidence in Van Dyck's gift of leadership. Like a good general he had been merely waiting for the propitious moment. He had posted his force, which included, besides the engineers and firemen, a good handful of the Provincetown Portuguese who had yielded only to force of numbers when the mutineers took the yacht, at various points of advantage, and choosing the instant when, with its job completed, the long-boat's crew was hurrying forward to man the hand winch and get the anchor up, the yacht's searchlight was turned on and the rush was made. When I got in, the _Andromeda's_ fore-deck was--well, not exactly a shambles, perhaps, but something resembling a bull-ring after the banderilleros and picadores and chulos have been tossed hither and yon and butted and horned into cowering submission, with Van Dyck just tackling the fat chief in a whirlwind grapple that brought assailed and assailant to the deck with a crash that was like the fall of a house. "What have you done with Captain Goff?" bellowed the victor in the grapple, with his knee in the fat one's stomach; and from the gurgling sounds that issued we gathered that the stout-hearted old Gloucesterman had been made to pay a bitter penalty for his loyalty to us. "'Ee is mak' us to deeg wiz ze peek-axe in ze wr-rong places!" gasped the fat bandit in extenuation. Van Dyck got up and turned Le Gros over to Haskell and two of the Portuguese, who proceeded to tie him and truss him like an enormous fowl. Bonteck wheeled upon me. "Dick, take a couple of our men in the launch and go after the old skipper. If they've killed him, I'm going to be judge, jury and sheriff for this fat devil and every man who stood in with him!" he raged. And I went quickly, taking two of Haskell's men to help. Fortunately for Le Gros and his accomplices, upon whom I am sure Van Dyck would have wreaked a swift and terrible vengeance, Goff was not dead. So far from it, when we reached the inland glade, where the forgotten ship's lantern still spread its little circle of yellow light, we found the old man on his knees in one of the numerous shallow holes dug by the gold-seekers, clawing the earth with his bare hands like a crazy old marmot. He had been brutally mishandled and was covered with blood, but when we laid hold of him and dragged him out of his burrow, he fought us madly to get back. "Mr. Van Dyck's gold--it's gone, slick and clean!" he croaked. "I cal'late I've got to find it afore I c'n go aboard." My two helpers took his mutterings for the ravings of a man who had been beaten and left for dead--as they were in good part--and among us we pacified him and got him down to the launch. Van Dyck was at the foot of the accommodation ladder when we reached the yacht, so I had a chance to give him a cautionary word. "Keep the old man quiet until he comes to himself," I warned. "If you don't, he'll publish your little gold-bar plot to the whole ship's company," and I briefed the pathetic little scene we had broken in upon when we found Goff. "Plucky old duffer!" said Bonteck warmly, when Quinby and his mate had half led and half carried Goff up the ladder. "I've been telling you all along that he was the right sort. But come aboard. We're going to hold a drumhead court-martial and try these amateur pirates right here and now." "You don't need me for that," I objected. "Let me have a couple of the Portuguese sailormen and I'll take the long-boat and go around to our abandoned camp for the dunnage we left behind." "Oh, damn the dunnage--let it go!" he broke out impatiently; but he changed his tune when I reminded him that since the abandoned luggage was made up chiefly of the women's steamer trunks, it would be wise for us to salvage it if only in the interests of peace and quietness. "All right; go to it," he yielded; and after I had picked my crew of two, I took the long-boat and set about the salvaging. It was a short horse, soon curried. The gasoline boat was fairly speedy, and the run down the lagoon was quickly made. With two huskies to do the porterage, little time was lost in stripping the camp of everything that was worth carrying away, and well within the hour we were back at the _Andromeda's_ accommodation ladder. Waiting only long enough to see the trunks going overside in a whip tackle that had been rigged for the purpose, I went aboard and found that the sea court had been in session, that the yacht's anchor was catted, and that the stage was set for the final act in the drama of the night of alarms. "We were waiting for you--or rather for that long-boat," said Van Dyck, after I had climbed to the bridge from which he was directing the luggage bestowal. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "Wait and you will see," he replied; and then he told me the findings of the drumhead court. The mutineers, with Le Gros for their leader, were members of a Central American revolutionary junta which had its headquarters in New York. At first, the intention had been to capture the _Andromeda_ and use her as a means of transportation for arms and ammunition, and, as Goff had told us, one cargo of the munitions had already been carried and landed. But the secret of Van Dyck's buried gold--which, as it appeared, was no secret at all so far as Lequat and the bandit chief were concerned--had brought them back to the island. "Goff says they made no bones about telling him that they were killing time in the ammunition shipment, with the cold-blooded purpose of letting us starve in the interval," Van Dyck said in conclusion. "It was not Le Gros's intention to give us any provisions at all when we were marooned, but Goff, who was shrewd enough not to make any resistance when he found it would be useless, overpersuaded him." "How could he do that?" "Very easily. He told Le Gros about my silly plot, and showed him how, if that plot were carried out exactly as it had been planned, the secret of the real mutiny could be kept indefinitely. He argued, quite plausibly, as you will see, that in due course of time I would be obliged to confess my plot, in which case, even if we should chance to be rescued by some passing ship, the onus would still rest upon me." I laughed. "The old skipper is something of a plotter himself, and we all owe him a lot more than we can ever pay. What are you going to do to these pirates?" "I gave Gustave his choice; to be landed, with his fellow bandits, at the nearest port of call where his country has a consul, or to be set ashore here on the island." "Good Lord!" I ejaculated. "Surely it didn't take him long to decide against the excellent chance of starving to death in this horrible death trap!" Van Dyck's smile was grim. "No; the deciding part of it didn't take him long." He led me to the starboard bridge-end and pointed to the accommodation ladder, where the mutineers, in single file, and each man carrying his allotment of provisions in a sack, were descending to take their places in the long-boat--this under an armed guard with Haskell and Quinby in command. "They know the tender mercies of their countrymen," Bonteck went on, "and they elected, very promptly, to take the chance they made us take, rather than to be turned over to the authorities. The name of the island fits, after all; it is still 'Pirates' Hope,' you see. Just the same, I'll drop a word somewhere to have them picked up after they've served their time for stealing my yacht." The anchor, broken out by the hand capstan, was apeak, and the blowers were roaring in the _Andromeda's_ tall funnels when the long-boat returned, to be quickly hoisted to its chocks on the roof of the deck-house. Van Dyck had the wheel, and at his signal to the engine-room the big propellers began to thrash in the backward motion and the yacht drew away from her late anchorage. I stood by until the miniature liner was set upon her course and was leaving the island astern. Then I took the wheel forcibly out of Bonteck's hands. "You've had it harder than any of us, and I couldn't go to sleep if my life depended upon it," I told him. "If you'll give me the course, I'll take the first trick and you can relieve me after you've had your forty winks." He protested generously, of course, but yielded at last when he found me obstinate. After he left me, I signaled the engine-room for full speed ahead and a few minutes later turned the wheel over to one of our Portuguese loyalists whom Van Dyck had sent up to act as my steersman. Freed thus from the mechanical duty, I took time for a backward look. The white ribbon of beach, with its dot of fire surrounded by a huddle of motionless figures, had disappeared, and the island itself was becoming a mere blot dimly outlined in the pale moonlight. It was like the waving of the magic wand in an extravaganza. By a few score revolutions of the _Andromeda's_ twin screws we had been whisked out of the age of romance and daring-do to be set down once more among the common-places--and conventions--of the twentieth Christian century. XIX THE FORWARD LIGHT DAWN was just breaking over a sea that was like a caldron of half-cooled molten metal for its colorings when Van Dyck came to take his turn on the _Andromeda's_ bridge, and he rated me soundly for not having called him earlier. "It is one thing to be generous, and quite another to be a self-immolating ass," was one of the compliments he handed me. Then: "By a streak of luck, one of our Portuguese fishermen turns out to be a passable cook. Get below and you'll find breakfast of a sort waiting for you in the saloon. Fill up, and then go to bed and sleep until you've caught up with the procession." Being by this time in a receptive mood on both counts, I obeyed the double injunction literally, and ten seconds after rolling, full-stomached, into the comfortable bunk in the stateroom which had been mine before the age of romance took us in hand, I was dead to the world and so continued while the clock-hands made a complete revolution, with some hour or so added thereto. When I awoke it was pitch dark in the little stateroom cabin, and somebody was knocking at the door. It proved to be Fernando, the new cook, and he was telling me in broken English that he had my dinner on a tray, by which I was made to understand that I had slept past the regular dinner hour. Turning out for a bath, a shave, and the first change of clothing that had been vouchsafed me in many a long day, I ate the hand-in dinner with the ravenous appetite of the half-famished, and fared forth. Stepping into the brightly lighted saloon, it was hard to realize that Pirates' Hope and all that it stood for in the lives of eighteen of us had ever existed. If the mutineers had left any traces of their short reign in our dining saloon they had all been carefully expunged. At one of the sections of the divisible dining-table Mrs. Van Tromp, Aunt Mehitable, Madeleine Barclay's father and Ingerson were playing bridge. Through the open door of the smoking-room opposite I could see Major Terwilliger lounging at ease in the deepest wicker chair, with a glass and a bottle and the ingredients for mixing his favorite after-dinner beverage on the card table at his elbow. At another section of the divisible dining-table the professor and his wife were at work classifying a lot of leaves and roots gathered on the island. Down the companion stair came the tinkle-tinkle of Billy Grisdale's mandolin to tell me that the younger members of the ship's company had already slipped back into the aforetime habit of whiling away the evenings under the after-deck awning. I smiled as I went forward to look for Van Dyck, and the smile wasn't as cynical as it might have been on the other side of the island avatar. The prompt rebound to the normal and the conventional was merely an example of human nature at its most resilient--and best. Van Dyck was on the bridge, or, more strictly speaking, in the little chart room, pricking out the yacht's course with a pair of dividers, and one of the Provincetown loyalists was at the wheel. "You, Dick?" Bonteck said, when I drifted in and took the stool across from him. "Had a good nap?" "If I haven't, it wasn't your fault," I returned. "Whereabouts are we by this time?" "Off the Venezuelan coast, and only a few hours run from La Guaira. It's the majority vote of the ship's company that we ought not to be cheated out of the best part of our winter cruise, and we'll put in at La Guaira and take a run up to Caracas while Goff is refitting the yacht and laying in stores. I hope that falls in with your notion." I let my vote stand over until I could ask about Goff. "Uncle Elijah isn't out of commission, then?" "Uncle Elijah is made of better stuff than most of us younger fry. He'll be up and around in a day or so; wanted to get up to-day and take over his job, but I wouldn't let him. But how about you? Will the La Guaira stop fit in with your longings?" "Admirably. There is a revived copper mining prospect about to be exploited near Aroa, and with your kind permission I'll quit you at La Guaira and run over to Tucacas. There's a railway from that port to Aroa, and I heard, while I was waiting for you in New Orleans, that there might be an opening for an American engineer." "Um," he grunted, without looking up, "so you're planning to desert, are you?" "If you call it desertion, yes. I know when I've had enough, Bonteck." "I don't think you do," he said with a queer grimace. "But let that stand over for a minute or so. Don't you want to be brought up to date in the treasure-trove adventure? I should think you would." "If there is anything remaining that I haven't seen and felt and tasted," I returned. "There is," he chuckled. "As the older novelists would remark, the half has not been told. Item Number One is a small problem in arithmetic. You helped me dig up Madeleine's ransom, and you counted the pieces, didn't you?" "I did." "You'd be willing to go into court and swear that there were forty of the gold bars; no more and no less; wouldn't you?" "I should." "And we dug them all out--all there were in that particular spot, didn't we?" "I thought we did." "Good. So did I. Yet the fact remains that there are eighty-three gold bars safely stowed away in the yacht's fore-hold; forty of one kind and forty-three of another. How do you account for that?" I laughed. "It simply means that Le Gros was more thorough than we were. He found your planting, as well as that of the _Santa Lucia's_ crew." "He did. But the double find was due to Goff's effort to gain time for us, rather than to the fat bandit's thoroughness. When we left Goff waiting for his recapture, the first thing he did was to heave the chunk of coral out of the way so that there wouldn't be any landmark. Then, when Le Gros and his men came, Goff pointed out first one place and then another, until he had them digging all over the glade. That is why they beat him so savagely; and it was after he was knocked out that they stumbled upon both hoards." "Both in the same place?" I asked. "Goff says they were not. He was just coming back to consciousness when they were starting to carry the stuff down to the beach. There were two heaps of it. In his battered condition Goff didn't realize the truth; he merely thought he was seeing double. Afterward, so he says, he got a crazy notion in his head that the pirates hadn't found my gold at all, and that it was up to him to find it. That was what he was trying to do when you went after him." "I know," I said; "Are there any more knots in the tangle?" "Just one. When I went below last night to turn in, Billy Grisdale was waiting for me with tears in his eyes; said he'd lost all his hopes of heaven, and begged me to turn back to the island and let him have men enough to go ashore and dig some more in the gold plantation--that we were leaving Edie's dowry behind. I asked him what he meant, and he told me. He and Edie had been the first to take fire when I told the old story of the Spanish treasure ship, and they had gone about looking for landmarks and digging haphazard in one place and another." "And, of course, they stumbled upon the chunk of coral, rolled it away, and dug under it," I filled in, recalling instantly what Billy had said to me about buried treasure and the ownership thereof on the night of Ingerson's attempted suicide. "You've said it. Naturally, it was my planting that they uncovered--not the Spaniards', but never having so much as heard of my earlier visit to the island, there was nothing to make them suspect that it was not the _Santa Lucia_ hoard that they had unearthed. Their first impulse was to run back to camp and shout the good news; but the cannier second thought prevailed. They reburied the stuff in the hole they had made, marked the place as well as they could--but not with the chunk of coral they had rolled aside,--and came away and left it, meaning to part with their secret only when a rescue ship should come along." "What did you tell Billy?" He grinned. "I took him into the fore-hold and showed him the pile of gold bars. As you would imagine, he was paralyzed when he counted and found there were eighty-three of them. 'There were forty-three--I'm sure there were only forty-three,' he kept saying over and over." "Wait a minute," I interposed; "you are going too fast for me. Are you asking me to believe that it was only by chance that they rolled the piece of coral over to the exact spot where, we may suppose, it originally stood--marking the place of the _Santa Lucia_ burial?" "Chance and nothing else--excepting, perhaps, it may have rolled more easily that way than any other. It was Goff and I who moved it in the first place, you remember, when we took it to mark our gold grave." "Now we may come back to Billy," I said. "What more did you tell him?" "What could I tell him, save to hint that the Spaniards might have split their treasure and buried it in two places?--that, and to josh him a bit for having stopped too soon in his digging venture?" "Then you told him that the remaining forty pieces belong to Madeleine?" "I did; I have told them all. She found it, and it is hers. More than that, I have taken Jack Grey into my confidence in the matter of Barclay's shortage in his guardian accounts, and he will see to it that the Vancourt trust fund is made whole again." "But, see here," I protested; "that is _your_ quarter million that Billy and Edie are making off with!" He laughed boyishly. "I'm robbed," he declared; "Held up and cleaned out in the house of my friends. I couldn't claim the stuff if I wanted to--without giving the whole snap away. But I don't mean to claim it. It is going to be put right where it will do the most good, Dick--which it wasn't going to be, if my romantic plot had worked out as it was planned. If Madeleine had found _my_ money, I should never have been able to look her straight in the eyes again--never in this world. You know I shouldn't. That was the weak detail I told you about. But what she did find is her own, her very own, you see; and mine goes to the two kiddies. Billy's father couldn't stake him, neither now nor two or three years hence, when these two babies will take things into their own hands and get married, money or no money. And with another of her girls due to marry a poor man, Mrs. Van Tromp would be in despair." "Another of her girls--you mean Beatrice?" I asked, dry-lipped. "Sure thing. Jerry's a pauper; or if he isn't quite that now, he will be when Major Terwilliger's last will and testament is read." "But Conetta!" I gasped. "He is promised to her, Bonteck." "Is he?" he said; and that is all he did say. "Isn't he?" I demanded. "How should I know? You'd better go and ask him or her--or both of them." For a flitting instant I found myself desperate enough to do that very thing; but I, too, had suffered my sea change. Curiously enough the hotheaded impulse died within me before I could rise from my seat on the three-legged stool. "Well, why don't you?" Van Dyck inquired satirically, meaning, I supposed, why didn't I go and make a fool of myself to the two people in question. Then: "What has come over you, Richard? Have you lost all of that fiery impetuosity that used to make you the worry of your friends, and put the fear of God into your enemies?" It wasn't worth while to answer the gibe. I had other and better things to think of just then. Mellowing things. "I know now why you dragged me in on this winter cruise, Bonteck," I said, humbly enough. "In the goodness of your heart you thought Conetta and I might be able to bridge the three-year gap and come together again. It was a kindly thought, and I shall always remember it. It wasn't your fault that the chance came too late. Don't you want me to take your trick here and let you go down to the others? True, Ingerson was at the bridge table when I came through, but he may not stay there." "Ingerson is out of it," he said shortly. "He leaves us at La Guaira, to take the regular steamer for Havana and home." "Nevertheless, my offer holds good. Give me the course and I'll relieve you." "Later on, perhaps; the night is yet young. Just now, you'll be wanting to get Conetta and Jerry together so you can fire that question of yours at them. Better toddle along and have it over with, while the thing is fresh in your mind." I turned to go, but at the door of the chart-room I paused to give him his due. "You are a kindly sort of villain, after all, Bonteck," I said. "But how about the little experiment in the humanities that was at the bottom of all these things that have happened to us? Did it turn out as you expected it would? Are we worse than you feared--or better than you hoped?" "Neither, Dick," he returned quite soberly. "We are all pretty much the same, I guess; brothers and sisters under the skin; just men and women 'of like passions'. I think I've known it as well as I needed to, all along, but it suited my humor to pose as a--a----" "As a pragmatic ass," I snorted, helping him out. "Whenever you are tempted to bray again----" "I'll just think back a few lines and remember this little Caribbean slip-up," he laughed. "But don't let me keep you. I know you are perishing to go and stick pins into poor old Jerry and Conetta." That final remark of his was as far as possible from the truth; so far, indeed, that, upon leaving the bridge, I descended to the main deck by way of the forward ladder for the express purpose of keeping out of the way of the group under the awning on the after-deck lounge. Since the _Andromeda_ was now quite short-handed, the forward deck was deserted by all save a single man at the bow. I crossed to the port rail and stood for a time looking out upon the starlit sea and listening to the sibilant song of the yacht's sharp cutwater as it sheared its way through the gently heaving seas. I had not been talking merely for effect in telling Bonteck that I should leave the yacht at La Guaira. On all accounts it seemed only the just and decent thing to do. Now that I came to think of it soberly, it seemed quite possible that my presence in the yacht party might have been the provoking cause of Jerry Dupuyster's disloyalty, or apparent disloyalty, to Conetta. He knew that we had once been engaged, and while there had been no more than fellow-passenger intimacy on the cruise, we had been together more or less on the island. Though it was removed by the better part of the length of the ship, the tinny tinkle of Billy's mandolin was still audible, and presently there were voices joining in a rollicking college song; John Grey's clear tenor, Alicia Van Tromp's rich contralto, and even the professor's bass. It seemed incredible that the reaction from our late privations could have swept us all so swiftly back to the ordinary and the commonplace; and yet the fact remained: a fact demonstrating beyond all question the irresistible impulse in the normal human being to revert quickly to the usual and the accustomed. Perhaps it was the reflective mood to which this philosophizing vein led that made me insensible of Conetta's approach. At any rate, I had no warning; I was still supposing that she was with the others on the after-deck when I felt her touch on my arm. "You?" I said. "Yes, me," she admitted, with the cheerful disregard for grammar which usually marked her flippant moods. "What are you doing up here, all by yourself?" "What should I be doing? But if you really want to know, I'm gazing out toward the country where I'm likely to spend the next few years of my life--Venezuela." "Yes," she said quite calmly. "I've just been up on the bridge with Bonteck. He told me you were going to bury yourself again in the South American wilds." Then, with what seemed to be a tinge of mocking malice: "Is it the Castilian princess?--but no; you told me she is married, didn't you?" "No," I returned crabbedly; "it's you, this time, Conetta. I don't want to be on the same side of the earth with you when you marry Jerry Dupuyster." She laughed as though I had said something humorous. "Jerry!" she scoffed. "Where are your eyes, Dickie Preble? Don't you see that I haven't the littlest chance in the world in that quarter? I should think you might." "That is all right," I retorted. "I'll have a thing or two to say to Jerry before I quit this neat little ship at La Guaira!" "Please don't!" she pleaded. "Don't tell Jerry where to head in, you mean?" "No; I didn't mean that. I mean please don't slip back, like all the rest of us have. Don't you know you were awfully dear while we were on the island? There were times--times when you were so patient and good with Aunt Mehitable--when I could have hugged you." "Humph! I wonder what Jerry would have said to that?" "Can't we leave Jerry out of it, just for a few minutes? But you _were_ good, you know, and you were really making me begin to believe that your horrible temper, the temper that once made us both pay such a frightful price, was your servant instead of your master." "Temper?" I said, fairly aghast at this bald accusation. "Yes, temper. Have you been like everybody else--unable to recognize your own dearest failing? Don't you know that even as a little boy they used to say of you that you'd rather fight than eat? Are all red-headed men like that?" "Never mind the other red-headed men," I returned. "What price did my temper make us pay?--and when?" "I wonder if you went through it all without knowing--without realizing?" she said musingly. "Do you remember one night when you were taking Aunt Mehitable and me to the theater and some lobby lounger made a remark that you didn't like?" "Yes, I remember it. I would have killed the beast if they hadn't pulled me off him. That remark was made about you, Conetta." "I know. But you--you scandalized poor Aunt Mehitable. She began to say, right then, that I could never hope to have a happy married life with a man who had such an ungovernable temper. Wasn't it more or less true, Dick?" Back of the island period and its tremendous revelations I should probably have said that it wasn't true. But now I only asked for better information. "Once upon a time your aunt made two wills; made one, and revoked it with another within a week. Was that done to find out how much I would stand for?" "I--I'm afraid it was." She admitted it reluctantly. "Since it is all dead and buried long ago, you might tell me a little more about it. What she said to me was that she had heard of the loss of my property, and that she thought it was only fair to tell me that, under the terms of her will, you wouldn't inherit anything but a small legacy. She added that, of course, under such conditions our marriage was out of the question; that the only thing for me to do was to set you free." "What did you say to her?" "I don't remember. I probably raved like a maniac." "You did. Miss Stebbins, the secretary, was in the library alcove, and she took short-hand notes. It was terrible, Dick. You must have been quite mad to say such things as you said to Aunt Mehitable." "I was mad. Look at it from my side for a moment, if you can. I had just heard of the smash in the Western mines, and right upon the heels of that I was calmly asked to give you up. Did she show you the short-hand notes?" "She did, after you had vanished without saying a word to me or even writing a line to tell me what had become of you. She did it to prove what she had said many times before--that your ferocious temper would make it impossible for any peaceable person to live with you." "And you--what did you do?" "What could I do? I had to go on living; one has to do that in any case. And after a time----" "After a time, Jerry stepped in. I'm not blaming anybody, Conetta, dear. If Jerry would only break away from Beatrice Van Tromp and treat you as he ought to treat the woman he is going to marry, I wouldn't say a word." She turned away, and for the length of time that it took the _Andromeda_ to sheer through three of the long Caribbean swells she was silent. Then, as if she were speaking to the wide expanse of sea and starry sky: "It would be a tragedy if Jerry should break away from Beatrice. They have been engaged for ever and ever so long." "What!" I exclaimed. "And you've known it all the time?" "I think you are the only one who hasn't known it." "But you said you and Jerry----" "No," she interrupted coolly, "I didn't say it. I merely let you go on believing what you seemed to want to believe." "But you did say that Jerry had asked you." "That was a long time ago; and I think he did it only because his uncle told him to." Slowly the incredible thing battered its way into my brain. Conetta was free; free, and she hadn't been any better able to forget than I had. I slipped an arm around her. "It's an awful gap--three years; could you--do you suppose we could bridge it--and let Aunt Mehitable make another will, if she wants to?" Just then, Bonteck, or whoever had the wheel, must have let the _Andromeda_ fall off a bit. There was a plunge, a splash, and the spray of the curling bow wave showered us both. She let me wipe her face with my handkerchief, and then put it up to be kissed. "There has never been any gap, Dick, dear," she said softly. "I--I guess I'm just a silly little one-love fool. I've just been waiting--and waiting ... and Aunt Mehitable ... she's sorry, dear; she's been sorry ever since that dreadful day three years ago when she made you swear at her and call her a mercenary old harridan...." Time being the merest abstraction in such circumstances, it might have been either minutes or hours after this that the tubular chime which answered for a ship's bell on the _Andromeda_ began to strike. Conetta counted, and as the last note was dying away she chanted happily: "Eight bells; the forward light is shining bright, and all's well! Kiss me again, Dickie, dear, and we'll go and find Aunt Mehitable--if she hasn't gone to bed." * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Page 13, "entére" changed to "entrée" (_entrée_ to the best house) Page 67, "role" changed to "rôle" to match other usage (rôle she had tried) Page 141, "Dyke" changed to "Dyck" (place in Van Dyck) Page 168, "maneuvering" changed to "manoeuvering" to match rest of usage in text (fortnight I've been manoeuvering) Page 172, "hypothssis" changed to "hypothesis" (second hypothesis was) Page 180, superfluous comma removed after "well" (file and keeping well) Page 193, final period added to last line on page (blotted me out.) Page 204, "hestitating" changed to "hesitating" (was not hesitating from) Page 224, "a" changed to "á" (Gracias á Dios with a disabled) Pagem 246, "Curacao" changed to "Curaçao" (the island of Curaçao) Page 257, "Grácias a Dios" changed to "Gracias á Dios" to match rest of usage (repair stop at Gracias á Dios) Page 248, "Curacao" changed to "Curaçao" (Curaçao, to anyw'ere you) 
17436	----	THE QUEEN'S CUP by G. A. Henty. Chapter 1. A large party were assembled in the drawing room of Greendale, Sir John Greendale's picturesque old mansion house. It was early in September. The men had returned from shooting, and the guests were gathered in the drawing room; in the pleasant half hour of dusk when the lamps have not yet been lighted, though it is already too dark to read. The conversation was general, and from the latest news from India had drifted into the subject of the Italian belief in the Mal Occhio. "Do you believe in it, Captain Mallett?" asked Bertha, Sir John's only child, a girl of sixteen; who was nestled in an easy chair next to that in which the man she addressed was sitting. "I don't know, Bertha." He had known her from childhood, and she had not yet reached an age when the formal "Miss Greendale" was incumbent upon her acquaintances. "I do not believe in the Italian superstition to anything like the extent they carry it. I don't think I should believe it at all if it were not that one man has always been unlucky to me." "How unlucky, Captain Mallett?" "Well, I don't know that unlucky is the proper word, but he has always stood between me and success; at least, he always did, for it is some years since our paths have crossed." "Tell me about it." "Well, I have no objection, but there is not a great deal to tell. "I was at school with--I won't mention his name. We were about the same age. He was a bully. I interfered with him, we had a fight, and I scored my first and only success over him. It was a very tough fight--by far the toughest I ever had. I was stronger than he, but he was the more active. I fancied that it would not be very difficult to thrash him, but found that I had made a great mistake. It was a long fight, and it was only because I was in better condition that I won at last. "Well, you know when boys fight at school, in most cases they become better friends afterwards; but it was not so here. He refused to shake hands with me, and muttered something about its being his turn next time. Till then he had not been considered a first-rate hand at anything; he was one of those fellows who saunter through school, get up just enough lessons to rub along comfortably, never take any prominent part in games, but have a little set of their own, and hold themselves aloof from school in general. "Once or twice when we had played cricket he had done so excellently that it was a grievance that he would not play regularly, and there was a sort of general idea that if he chose he could do most things well. After that fight he changed altogether. He took to cricket in downright earnest, and was soon acknowledged to be the best bat and best bowler in the school. Before that it had been regarded as certain that when the captain left I should be elected, but when the time came he got a majority of votes. I should not have minded that, for I recognised that he was a better player than I, but I fancied that he had not done it fairly, for many fellows whom I regarded as certain to support me turned round at the last moment. "We were in the same form at school. He had been always near the bottom; I stood fairly up in it, and was generally second or third. He took to reading, and in six weeks after the fight won his way to the top of the class and remained there; and not only so, but he soon showed himself so far superior to the rest of us that he got his remove to the form above. "Then there was a competition in Latin verses open to both forms. Latin verse was the one thing in which I was strong. There is a sort of knack, you know, in stringing them together. A fellow may be a duffer generally and yet turn out Latin verse better than fellows who are vastly superior to him on other points. It was regarded as certain that I should gain that. No one had intended to go in against me, but at the last moment he put his name down, and, to the astonishment of everyone, won in a canter. "We left about the same time, and went up to Oxford together, but to different Colleges. I rowed in my College Eight, he in his. We were above them on the river, but they made a bump every night until they got behind us, and then bumped us. He was stroke of his boat, and everyone said that success was due to his rowing, and I believe it was. I did not so much mind that, for my line was chiefly sculling. I had won in my own College, and entered for Henley, where it was generally thought that I had a fair chance of winning the Diamonds. However, I heard a fortnight before the entries closed that he was out on the river every morning sculling. I knew what it was going to be, and was not surprised when his name appeared next to mine in the entries. "We were drawn together, and he romped in six lengths ahead of me, though curiously enough he was badly beaten in the final heat. He stroked the University afterwards. Though I was tried I did not even get a seat in the eight, contrary to general expectation, but I know that it was his influence that kept me out of it. "We had only one more tussle, and again I was worsted. I went in for the Newdigate--that is the English poetry prize, you know. I had always been fond of stringing verses together, and the friends to whom I showed my poem before sending it in all thought that I had a very good chance. I felt hopeful myself, for I had not heard that he was thinking of competing, and, indeed, did not remember that he had ever written a line of verse when at school. However, when the winner was declared, there was his name again. "I believe that it was the disgust I felt at his superiority to me in everything that led me to ask my father to get me a commission at once, for it seemed to me that I should never succeed in anything if he were my rival. Since then our lives have been altogether apart, although I have met him occasionally. Of course we speak, for there has never been any quarrel between us since that fight, but I know that he has never forgiven me, and I have a sort of uneasy conviction that some day or other we shall come into contact again. "I am sure that if we meet again he will do me a bad turn if possible. I regard him as being in some sort of way my evil genius. I own that it is foolish and absurd, but I cannot get over the feeling." "Oh, it is absurd, Captain Mallett," the girl said. "He may have beaten you in little things, but you won the Victoria Cross in the Crimea, and everyone knows that you are one of the best shots in the country, and that before you went away you were always in the first flight with the hounds." "Ah, you are an enthusiast, Bertha. I don't say that I cannot hold my own with most men at a good many things where not brains, but brute strength and a quick eye are the only requisites, but I am quite convinced that if that fellow had been in the Redan that day, he would have got the Victoria Cross, and I should not. There is no doubt about his pluck, and if it had only been to put me in the shade he would have performed some brilliant action or other that would have got it for him. He is a better rider than I am, at any rate a more reckless one, and he is a better shot, too. He is incomparably more clever." "I cannot believe it, Captain Mallett." "It is quite true, Bertha, and to add to it all, he is a remarkably handsome fellow, a first-rate talker, and when he pleases can make himself wonderfully popular." "He must be a perfect Crichton, Captain Mallett." "The worst of it is, Bertha, although I am ashamed of myself for thinking so, I have never been able to divest myself of the idea that he did not play fair. There were two or three queer things that happened at school in which he was always suspected of having had a hand, though it was never proved. I was always convinced that he used cribs, and partly owed his place to them. I was jealous enough to believe that the Latin verses he sent in were written for him by Rigby, who was one of the monitors, and a great dab at verses. Rigby was a great chum of his, for he was a mean fellow, and my rival was always well supplied with money, and to do him justice, liberal with it. "Then, just before we left school, he carried off the prize in swimming. He was a good swimmer, but I was a better. I thought myself for once certain to beat him, but an hour before the race I got frightful cramps, a thing that I never had before or since, and I could hardly make a fight at all. I thought at the time, and I have thought since, that I must have taken something at breakfast that disagreed with me horribly, and that he somehow put it in my tea. "Then again in that matter of the Sculls at Henley. I never felt my boat row so heavily as it did then. When it was taken out of the water it was found that a piece of curved iron hoop was fixed to the bottom by a nail that had been pushed through the thin skin. It certainly was not there when it was on the rack, but it was there when I rowed back to the boathouse, and it could only have got there by being put on as the boat was being lowered into the water. There were three or four men helping to lower her down--two of them friends of mine, two of them fellows employed at the boathouse. While it lay in the water, before I got in and took my place, anyone stooping over it might unobserved have passed his hand under it and have pushed the nail through. "I never said anything about it. I had been beaten; there was no use making a row and a scandal over it, especially as I had not a shadow of proof against anyone; but I was certain that he was not so fast as I was, for during practice my time had been as nearly as possible the same as that of the man who beat him with the greatest ease, and I am convinced that for once I should have got the better of him had it not been for foul play." "That was shameful, Captain Mallett," Bertha said, indignantly. "I wonder you did not take some steps to expose him." "I had nothing to go upon, Bertha. It was a case of suspicion only, and you have no idea what a horrible row there would have been if I had said anything about it. Committees would have sat upon it, and the thing would have got into the papers. Fellows would have taken sides, and I should have been blackguarded by one party for hinting that a well-known University man had been guilty of foul practices. "Altogether it would have been a horrible nuisance; it was much better to keep quiet and say nothing about it." "I am sure I could not have done that, Captain." "No, but then you see women are much more impetuous than men. I am certain that after you had once set the ball rolling, you would have been sorry that you had not bided your time and waited for another contest in which you might have turned the tables fairly and squarely." "He must be hateful," the girl said. "He is not considered hateful, I can assure you. He conceived a grudge against me, and has taken immense pains to pay me out, and I only trust that our paths will never cross again. If so, I have no doubt that I shall again get the worst of it. At any rate, you see I was not without justification when I said that though I did not believe in the Mal Occhio, I had reason for having some little superstition about it." "I prophesy, Captain Mallett, that if ever you meet him in the future you will turn the tables on him. Such a man as that can never win in the long run." "Well, I hope that your prophecy will come true. At any rate I shall try, and I hope that your good wishes will counterbalance his power, and that you will be a sort of Mascotte." "How tiresome!" the girl broke off, as there was a movement among the ladies. "It is time for us to go up to dress for dinner, and though I shan't take half the time that some of them will do, I suppose I must go." Captain Mallett had six months previously succeeded, at the death of his father, to an estate five miles from that of Sir John Greendale. His elder brother had been killed in the hunting field a few months before, and Frank Mallett, who was fond of his profession, and had never looked for anything beyond it save a younger son's portion, had thus come in for a very fine estate. Two months after his father's death he most reluctantly sent in his papers, considering it his duty to settle down on the estate; but ten days later came the news of the outbreak of the Sepoys of Barrackpoor, and he at once telegraphed to the War Office, asking to be allowed to cancel his application for leave to sell out. So far the cloud was a very small one, but rumours of trouble had been current for some little time, and the affair at least gave him an excuse for delaying his retirement. Very rapidly the little cloud spread until it overshadowed India from Calcutta to the Afghan frontier. His regiment stood some distance down on the rota for Indian service, but as the news grew worse regiment after regiment was hurried off, and it now stood very near the head of the list. All leave had not yet been stopped, but officers away were ordered to leave addresses, so that they could be summoned to join at an hour's notice. When he had left home that morning for a day's shooting with Sir John, he had ordered a horse to be kept saddled, so that if a telegram came it could be brought to him without a moment's delay. He was burning to be off. There had at first been keen disappointment in the regiment that they were not likely to take part in the fierce struggle; but the feeling had changed into one of eager expectation, when, as the contest widened and it was evident that it would be necessary to make the greatest efforts to save India, the prospect of their employment in the work grew. For the last fortnight expectation had been at its height. Orders had been received for the regiment to hold itself in readiness for embarkation, men had been called back from furlough, the heavy baggage had been packed; and all was ready for a start at twenty-four hours' notice. Many of the officers obtained a few days' leave to say goodbye to their friends or settle business matters, and Frank Mallett was among them. "So I suppose you may go at any moment, Mallett?" said the host at the dinner table that evening. "Yes, Sir John, my shooting today has been execrable; for I have known that at any moment my fellow might ride up with the order for me to return at once, and we are all in such a fever of impatience, that I am surprised I brought down a bird at all." "You can hardly hope to be in time either for the siege of Delhi or for the relief of Lucknow, Mallett." "One would think not, but there is no saying. You see, our news is a month old; Havelock had been obliged to fall back on Cawnpore, and a perfect army of rebels were in Delhi. Of course, the reinforcements will soon be arriving, and I don't think it likely that we shall get up there in time to share in those affairs; but even if we are late both for Lucknow and Delhi, there will be plenty for us to do. What with the Sepoy army and with the native chiefs that have joined them, and the fighting men of Oude and one thing and another, there cannot be less than 200,000 men in arms against us; and even if we do take Delhi and relieve Lucknow, that is only the beginning of the work. The scoundrels are fighting with halters round their necks, and I have no fear of our missing our share of the work of winning back India and punishing these bloodthirsty scoundrels." "It is a terrible time," Sir John said; "and old as I am, I should like to be out there to lend a hand in avenging this awful business at Cawnpore, and the cold-blooded massacres at other places." "I think that there will be no lack of volunteers, Sir John. If Government were to call for them I believe that 100,000 men could be raised in a week." "Ay, in twenty-four hours; there is scarce a man in England but would give five years of his life to take a share in the punishment of the faithless monsters. There was no lack of national feeling in the Crimean War; but it was as nothing to that which has been excited by these massacres. Had it been a simple mutiny among the troops we should all be well content to leave the matter in the hands of our soldiers; but it is a personal matter to everyone; rich and poor are alike moved by a burning desire to take part in the work of vengeance. I should doubt if the country has ever been so stirred from its earliest history." "Yes, I fancy we are all envying you, Mallett," one of the other gentlemen said. "Partridge shooting is tame work in comparison with that which is going on in India. It was lucky for you that that first mutiny took place when it did, for had it been a week later you would probably have been gazetted out before the news came." "Yes, that was a piece of luck, certainly, Ashurst. I don't know how I should be feeling if I had been out of it and the regiment on the point of starting for India." "I suppose you are likely to embark from Plymouth," said Sir John. "I should think so, but there is no saying. I hardly fancy that we should go through France, as some of the regiments have done; there would be no very great gain of time, especially if we start as far west as Plymouth. Besides, I have not heard of any transports being sent round to Marseilles lately. Of course, in any case we shall have to land at Alexandria and cross the desert to Suez. I should fancy, now that the advantages of that route have been shown, that troops in future will always be taken that way. You see, it is only five weeks to India instead of five months. The situation is bad enough as it is, but it would have been infinitely worse if no reinforcements could have got out from England in less than five months." "Is there anything that I can do for you while you are away, Mallett?" Sir John Greendale asked, as they lingered for a moment after the other gentlemen had gone off to join the ladies. "Nothing that I know of, thank you. Norton will see that everything goes on as usual. My father never interfered with him in the general management of the estate, and had the greatest confidence in him. I have known him since I was a child, and have always liked him, so I can go away assured that things will go on as usual. If I go down, the estate goes, as you know, to a distant cousin whom I have never seen. "As to other matters, I have but little to arrange. I have made a will, so that I shall have nothing to trouble me on that score. Tranton came over with it this morning from Stroud, and I signed it." "That is right, lad; we all hope most sincerely that there will be no occasion for its provisions to be carried out, but it is always best that a man should get these things off his mind. Are you going to say goodbye to us tonight?" "I shall do it as a precautionary measure, Sir John, but I expect that when I get the summons I shall have time to drive over here. My horse will do the distance in five and twenty minutes, and unless a telegram comes within an hour of the night mail passing through Stroud, I shall be able to manage it. I saw everything packed up before I left, and my man will see that everything, except the portmanteau with the things I shall want on the voyage, goes on with the regimental baggage." A quarter of an hour later Captain Mallett mounted his dog cart and drove home. The next morning he received a letter from the Adjutant, saying that he expected the order some time during the next day. "We are to embark at Plymouth, and I had a telegram this morning saying that the transport had arrived and had taken her coal on board. Of course they will get the news at the War Office today, and will probably wire at once. I think we shall most likely leave here by a train early the next morning. I shall, of course, telegraph as soon as the order comes, but as I know that you have everything ready, you will be in plenty of time if you come on by the night mail." At eleven o'clock a mounted messenger from Stroud brought on the telegram: "We entrain at six tomorrow morning. Join immediately." This was but a formal notification, and he resolved to go on by the night mail. He spent the day in driving round the estate and saying goodbye to his tenants. He lunched at the house of one of the leading farmers, where as a boy he had been always made heartily welcome. Before mounting his dog cart, he stood for a few minutes chatting with Martha, his host's pretty daughter. "You are not looking yourself, Martha," he said. "You must pick up your roses again before I come back. I shall leave the army then, and give a big dinner to my tenants, with a dance afterwards, and I shall open the ball with you, and expect you to look your best. "Who is this?" he asked, as a young fellow came round the corner of the house, and on seeing them, turned abruptly, and walked off. "It is George Lechmere, is it not?" A flash of colour came into the girl's face. "Ah, I see," he laughed; "he thought I was flirting with you, and has gone off jealous. Well, you will have no difficulty in making your peace with him tomorrow. "Goodbye, child, I must be going. I have a long round to make." He jumped into the dog cart and drove away, while the girl went quietly back into the house. Her father looked up at the clock. "Two o'clock," he said; "I must be going. I expected George Lechmere over here. He was coming to talk with me about his father's twelve-acre meadow. I want it badly this winter, for I have had more land under the plough than usual this year. I must either get some pasture or sell off some of my stock." "George Lechmere came, father," Martha said, with an angry toss of her head, "but when he saw me talking to Captain Mallett he turned and went off; just as if I was not to open my lips to any man but himself." The farmer would have spoken, but his wife shook her head at him. George Lechmere had been at one time engaged to Martha, but his jealousy had caused so many quarrels that the engagement had been broken off. He still came often to the house, however, and her parents hoped that it would be renewed; for the young fellow's character stood high. He was his father's right hand, and would naturally succeed him to the farm. His parents, too, had heartily approved of the match. So far, however, the prospect of the young people coming together was not encouraging. Martha was somewhat given to flirtation. George was as jealous as ever, and was unable to conceal his feelings, which, as he had now no right to criticise her conduct, so angered the girl that she not unfrequently gave encouragement to others solely to show her indifference to his opinions. George Lechmere had indeed gone away with anger in his heart. He knew that Captain Mallett was on the point of leaving with his regiment for India, and yet to see him chatting familiarly with Martha excited in him a passionate feeling of grievance against her. "It matters nought who it is," he muttered to himself. "She is ever ready to carry on with anyone, while she can hardly give me a civil word when I call. I know that if we were to marry it would be just the same thing, and that I am a fool to stop here and let it vex me. It would be better for me to get right out of it. John is old enough to take my place on the farm. Some of these days I will take the Queen's shilling. If I were once away I should not be always thinking of her. I know I am a fool to let a girl trouble me so, but I can't help it. If I stay here I know that I shall do mischief either to her or to someone else. I felt like doing it last month when she was over at that business at Squire Carthew's--he is just such another one as Captain Mallett, only he is a bad landlord, while ours is a good one. What made him think of asking all his own tenantry, and a good many of us round, and getting up a cricket match and a dance on the grass is more than I can say. He never did such a thing before in all the ten years since he became master there. They all noticed how he carried on with Martha, and how she seemed to like it. It was the talk of everyone there. If I had not gone away I should have made a fool of myself, though I have no right to interfere with her, and her father and mother were there and seemed in no way put out. "I will go away and have a look at that lot of young cattle I bought the other day. I don't know that I ever saw a more likely lot." It was dark when George returned. On his way home he took a path that passed near the house whence he had turned away so angrily a few hours before. It was not the nearest way, but somehow he always took it, even at hours when there was no chance of his getting the most distant sight of Martha. Presently he stopped suddenly, for from behind the wall that bounded the kitchen garden of the farm he heard voices. A man was speaking. "You must make your choice at once, darling, for as I have told you I am off tomorrow. We will be married as soon as we get there, and you know you cannot stop here." "I know I can't," Martha's voice replied, "but how can I leave?" "They will forgive you when you come back a lady," he said. "It will be a year at least before I return, and--" George could restrain himself no longer. A furious exclamation broke from his lips, and he made a desperate attempt to climb the wall, which was, however, too high. When, after two or three unsuccessful attempts, he paused for a moment, all was silent in the garden. "I will tackle her tomorrow," he said grimly, "and him, too. But I dare not go in now. Bennett has always been a good friend to me, and so has his wife, and it would half kill them were they to know what I have heard; but as for her and that villain--" George's mouth closed in grim determination, and he strolled on home through the darkness. Whatever his resolutions may have been, he found no opportunity of carrying them out, for the next morning he heard that Martha Bennett had disappeared. How or why, no one knew. She had been missing since tea time on the previous afternoon. She had taken nothing with her, and the farmer and his two sons were searching all the neighbourhood for some sign of her. The police of Stroud came over in the afternoon, and took up the investigation. The general opinion was that she must have been murdered, and every pond was dragged, every ditch examined, for a distance round the farm. In the meantime George Lechmere held his tongue. "It is better," he said to himself, "that her parents and friends should think her dead than know the truth." He seldom spoke to anyone, but went doggedly about his work. His father and mother, knowing how passionately he had been attached to Martha, were not surprised at his strange demeanour, though they wondered that he took no part in the search for her. They had their trouble, too, for although they never breathed a word of their thoughts even to each other, there was, deep down in their hearts, a fear that George knew something of the girl's disappearance. His intense jealousy had been a source of grief and trouble to them. Previous to his engagement to Martha he had been everything they could have wished him. He had been the best of sons, the steadiest of workers, and a general favourite from his willingness to oblige, his cheerfulness and good temper. His jealousy, as a child, had been a source of trouble. Any gift, any little treat, for his younger brothers, in which he had not fully shared, had been the occasion for a violent outburst of temper, never exhibited by him at any other time, and this feeling had again shown itself as soon as he had singled out Martha as the object of his attentions. They had remarked a strangeness in his manner when he had returned home that night, and, remembering the past, each entertained a secret dread that there had been some more violent quarrel than usual between him and Martha, and that in his mad passion he had killed her. It was, then, with a feeling almost of relief that a month after her disappearance he briefly announced his intention of leaving the farm and enlisting in the army. His mother looked in dumb misery at her husband, who only said gravely: "Well, lad, you are old enough to make your own choice. Things have changed for you of late, and maybe it is as well that you should make a change, too. You have been a good son, and I shall miss you sorely; but John is taking after you, and presently he will make up for your loss." "I am sorry to go, father, but I feel that I cannot stay here." "If you feel that it is best that you should go, George, I shall say no word to hinder you," and then his wife was sure that the fear she felt was shared by her husband. The next morning George came down in his Sunday clothes, carrying a bundle. Few words were spoken at breakfast; when it was over he got up and said: "Well, goodbye, father and mother, and you boys. I never thought to leave you like this, but things have gone against me, and I feel I shall be best away. "John, I look to you to fill my place. "Good-bye all," and with a silent shake of the hand he took up his bundle and stick and went out, leaving his brothers, who had not been told of his intentions, speechless with astonishment. Chapter 2. Frank Mallet, after he had visited all his tenants, drove to Sir John Greendale's. "We have got the route," he said, as he entered; "and I leave this evening. I had a note from the Adjutant this morning saying that will be soon enough, so you see I have time to come over and say goodbye comfortably." "I do not think goodbyes are ever comfortable," Lady Greendale said. "One may get through some more comfortably than others, but that is all that can be said for the best of them." "I call them hateful," Bertha put in. "Downright hateful, Captain Mallett--especially when anyone is going away to fight." "They are not pleasant, I admit," Frank Mallett agreed; "and I ought to have said as comfortably as may be. I think perhaps those who go feel it less than those who stay. They are excited about their going; they have lots to think about and to do; and the idea that they may not come back again scarcely occurs to them at the time, although they would admit its possibility or even its probability if questioned. "However, I fancy the worst of the fighting will be over by the time we get there. It seems almost certain that it will be so, if Delhi is captured and Lucknow relieved. The Sepoys thought that they had the game entirely in their hands, and that they would sweep us right out of India almost without resistance. They have failed, and when they see that every day their chances of success diminish, their resistance will grow fainter. "I expect that we shall have many long marches, a great many skirmishes, and perhaps two or three hard fights; but I have not a shadow of fear of a single reverse. We are going out at the best time of year, and with cool weather and hard exercise there will be little danger of fevers; therefore the chances are very strongly in favour of my returning safe and sound. It may take a couple of years to stamp it all out, but at the end of that time I hope to return here for good. "I shall find you a good deal more altered, Miss Greendale, than you will find me. You will have become a dignified young lady. I shall be only a little older and a little browner. You see, I have never been stationed in India since I joined, for the regiment had only just come home, and I am looking forward with pleasurable anticipation to seeing it. Ordinary life there in a hot cantonment must be pretty dull, though, from what I hear, people enjoy it much more than you would think possible. But at a time like the present it will be full of interest and excitement." "You will write to us sometimes, I hope," Sir John said, when Mallett rose to leave. "I won't promise to write often, Sir John. I expect that we shall be generally on the move, perhaps without tents of any kind, and to write on one's knee, seated round a bivouac fire, with a dozen fellows all laughing and talking round, would be a hopeless task; but if at any time we are halted at a place where writing is possible, I will certainly do so. I have but few friends in England--at any rate, only men, who never think of expecting a letter. And as you are among my very oldest and dearest friends, it will be a pleasure for me to let you know how I am getting on, and to be sure that you will feel an interest in my doings." There was a warm goodbye, and all went to the door for a few last words. Frank's portmanteau was already in the dog cart, for he had arranged to drive straight from Greendale to Chippenham, where he would dine at an hotel and then go on by the mail to Exeter. It was three o'clock when he drove into the barracks there. Early as the hour was, the troops were already up and busy. Wagons were being loaded, the long lines of windows were all lighted up, and in every room men could be seen moving about. He drove across the barrack yard to his own quarters, left his portmanteau there, and then walked to the mess room. As he had expected, he found several officers there. "Ah, Mallett, there you are. You are the last in; the others all turned up by the evening train, but we thought that as you were comparatively near you would come on by the mail." "I thought I should find some of you fellows keeping it up." "Well, there was nothing else to do. There won't be much chance of going to sleep. We all dined in the town, for of course the mess plate and kit have been packed up. We are not taking much with us now, just enough to make shift with. The rest will be sent round to Calcutta, to be stored there till we settle down. The men had a dinner given to them by the town, and as they all got leave out till twelve o'clock, and the loading of the wagons began at two, there has been a row going on all night. Most of us played pool till an hour ago, then we gradually dropped off for an hour's snooze." "There will be a chance of getting breakfast, I hope?" "Yes, there is to be a rough and tumble breakfast at a quarter to five. We fall in at a quarter past. We got through the inspection of kits yesterday. The mess sergeant and a party will pack up the breakfast things, and the pots and pans will come on by the next train. There is one at eight. It will be in plenty of time, as I don't suppose the transport will be off until the afternoon, perhaps not till night. There are always delays at the last moment. "However, it will be something to be on board ship. That is the first step towards getting at those black scoundrels. We are all afraid that we shall be late for Delhi; still there is plenty of other work to be done." "Any ladies with us?" "No, there was a general agreement among the married officers that they had best be left behind. So for once the regiment goes without women." "There is a levity about your tone that I do not approve of, Armstrong," Frank Mallett said, reprovingly. "There were no women when we went out to the Crimea, at the time when you were a good little boy doing Latin exercises." "Well, altogether it is a good thing, Mallett, and we shall be much more comfortable without them." "Speak for yourself, Armstrong. Lads of your age who can talk nothing but barrack slang, and are eminently uncomfortable when they have to chat for five minutes to a lady, are naturally glad when they are free from the restraint of having to talk like reasonable beings; but it is not so with older and wiser men. How about Marshall?" "He has been away on leave for the last ten days. He has not come back here. There have been two fellows inquiring after him diligently for the last week. There was no mistaking their errand, even if we did not know how he stood. I expect he is on board the transport. I fancy the Colonel gave him a hint to join there. No doubt the Jews will be on the lookout for him at Plymouth, as well as here; but he will manage to smuggle himself on board somehow, even if he has to wrap up as an old woman." "He deserves all the trouble that has fallen upon him," Frank Mallett said, angrily. "I have no patience with a young fool who bets on race horses when he knows very well that if they lose there is nothing for him to do but to go to the Jews for money. However, he has had a sharp lesson, and as it is likely enough that the regiment won't be back in England for years, he will have a chance of getting straight again. This affair has been a godsend for him, for had he remained in England there would have been nothing for him to do but to sell out." So they chatted until the mess waiters laid the table for breakfast, when the other officers came pouring in. The meal was eaten hastily, for the assembly was sounding in the barrack yard. As soon as breakfast was finished, the officers went out and took their places with their companies. There was a brief inspection, then the drums and fifes set up "The Girl I Left Behind Me," and the regiment marched off to the station, the streets being already full of people who had got up to see the last of them, and to wish them Godspeed in the work of death they were going to perform. The baggage was already in the train that was waiting for them in the station, and in a few minutes it steamed away; the soldiers hanging far out of every window to wave a last goodbye to the weeping women who thronged the platform. Two hours later they reached Plymouth, marched through the town to the dockyard, and went straight on board the transport. There was the usual confusion until the cabins had been allotted, portmanteaus stowed away, and the general baggage lowered into the hold. A tedious wait of three or four hours followed, no one exactly knew why, and then the paddle wheels began to revolve. The men burst into a loud cheer, and a few minutes later they passed Drake's Island and headed down the sound. They had, as expected, found young Marshall on board. He kept below until they started, although told that there was little chance of the bailiffs being permitted to enter the dockyard. As he had the grace to feel thoroughly ashamed of his position, little was said to him; but the manner of the senior officers was sufficient to make him feel their strong disapproval of the position in which he had placed himself by his folly. "I have taken a solemn oath never to bet again," he said that evening to Captain Mallett, who was a general favourite with the younger officers; "and I mean to keep it." "How much do you owe, young 'un?" "Four hundred and fifty. What with allowances and so on, I ought to be able to pay it off in three or four years." "Yes, and if you keep your word, Marshall, some of us may be inclined to help you. I will for one. I would have done so before, but to give money to a fool is worse than throwing it into the sea. As soon as you show us by deeds, not words, that you really mean to keep straight, you will find that you are not without friends." "Thank you awfully, Mallett, but I don't want to be helped. I will clear it off myself if I live." "You will find it hard work to do that, Marshall, even in India. Of course, the pay and allowances make it easy for even a subaltern to live on his income there, but when it comes to laying by much, that is a difficult matter. However, so long as the actual campaign lasts, the necessary expenses will be very small. We shall live principally on our rations, and you can put by a good bit. There may be a certain amount of prize money, for, although there is nothing to be got from the mutineers themselves, some of the native princes who have joined them will no doubt have to pay heavily for their share in the business." "Well, you won't give me up, will you, Mallett?" "Certainly not. I was as hard as anyone on you before, for I have no patience with such insane folly, but if you keep straight no one will be more inclined to make things easy for you." The voyage to Alexandria was unmarked by any incident. Drill went on regularly, and life differed to no great extent from that in barracks. All were glad when the halfway stage of the journey was reached, but still more so when they embarked in another transport at Suez. Here they learned, according to news that had arrived on the previous day, that at the end of August Delhi was still holding out; and that, although reinforcements had reached the British, vastly greater numbers of men had entered the city, and that constant sorties were made against the British position on the Ridge. Excitement therefore was at its highest, when on the 20th of October a pilot came on board at the mouth of the Hooghly, and they learned that the assault had been made on the 14th of September; and that, after desperate fighting extending over a week, the city had been captured, the puppet Emperor made prisoner, and the rebels driven with tremendous loss across the bridge of boats over the Jumma. The satisfaction with which the news was received, in spite of the disappointment that they had arrived too late to share in the victory, was damped by the news of the heavy losses sustained in the assault; and especially that of that most gallant soldier, General Nicholson. Nor were their hopes that they might take part in the relief of Lucknow realised, for they learned that on the 25th of September the place had been relieved by Havelock and Outram. Here, however, there was still a prospect that they might take a share in the serious fighting; as the losses of the relieving column had been so heavy, and the force of mutineers so large, that it had been found impracticable to carry off the garrison as intended, and the relieving forces were now themselves besieged. There was, however, no fear felt for their safety. If the scanty original garrison had defied all the efforts of the mutineers, no one doubted that, now that their force was trebled, they would succeed in defending themselves until an army sufficiently strong to bring them off could be assembled. Not a day was lost at Calcutta. General Sir Colin Campbell, who was now in supreme command, was collecting a force at Cawnpore. There he had already been joined by a column which had been despatched from Delhi as soon as the capital fell, and by a strong naval brigade with heavy guns from the ships of war. All arrangements had been made for pushing up reinforcements as fast as they arrived, and the troops were marched from the side of the ship to a spot where a flotilla of boats was in readiness. The men only took what they could carry; all other baggage was to be sent after them by water, and to lie, until further instructions, at Allahabad. As soon, therefore, as the troops had been packed away in the boats, they were taken in tow by two steamers, and at once taken up the river. Officers and men were alike in the highest spirits at finding themselves in so short a time after their arrival already on the way to the front, and their excitement was added to by the fact that it was still doubtful whether they would arrive in time to join the column. Cramped as the men were in the crowded boats, there was no murmuring as day after day, and night after night, they continued their course up the river. At Patna they learned that the Commander in Chief was still at Cawnpore, and the same welcome news was obtained at Allahabad; but at the latter place they learned that the news of his having gone forward was hourly expected. They reached Cawnpore on the morning of the 11th, and learned that the column had left on the 9th, but was halting at Buntara. Not a moment was lost. Each man received six days' provisions from the commissariat stores, and two hours after landing the regiment was on the march and arrived late at night at Buntara, being received with hearty cheers by the troops assembled there. They learned that they were to go forward on the following morning. Weary, but in high spirits at finding that they had arrived in time, the regiment lighted its fires and bivouacked. "This has been a close shave indeed, Mallett," one of the other captains said, as a party of them sat round a fire. "We won by a short head." "Short indeed, Ackers. It has been a race all the way from England, and it is marvellous indeed that we should arrive just in time to take part in the relief of Lucknow. A day later and we should have missed it." "We should not have done that, Mallett, for the men would have marched all night, and, if necessary, all day tomorrow, to catch up. Still, it is a wonderful fluke that after all we should be in time." "There is no doubt that it will be a tough business," one of the majors said. "Havelock found it so, and I expect that the lesson he taught them hasn't been lost, and that we shall have to meet greater difficulties than even he had." "Yes, but look at our force. Sixteen guns of Horse Artillery, a heavy field battery, and the Naval Brigade with eight guns; the 9th Lancers, the Punjaub Cavalry, and Hodson's Horse; four British regiments of infantry and two of Punjaubies, besides a column 1,500 strong which is expected to join us tomorrow or next day. "I hope in any case, Major, that we shan't follow the line Havelock took through the narrow streets, for there we cannot use our strength; but will manage to approach the Residency from some other direction. We know that it stands near the river, and at the very edge of the town, so there ought to be some other way of getting at it. I consider that we are a match for any number of these scoundrels if we do but get a fair ground for fighting, which we certainly should not do in the streets of the town." "I don't care how it is, so that we do get at them," another officer said. "We have heard such frightful details of their atrocities as we came up that one is burning to get at close quarters with them. I suppose we shall go to the Alumbagh first, and relieve the force that has so long been shut up there. I only hope that we shan't be chosen to take their place." There was a general exclamation of disgust at the suggestion. "Well, someone must stay, you know," he went on in deprecation of the epithets hurled at him; "and why not our regiment as well as any other?" "Because I cannot believe that after luck has favoured us so long she will play us such a trick now," Frank Mallett said. "Besides, the other regiments have done something in the way of fighting already while we have not fired a shot; and I think that Sir Colin would be more likely to choose the 75th, or, in fact, any of the other regiments than us. Still if the worst comes to the worst we must not grumble. Other regiments have had weary times of waiting, and it may be our turn now. Your suggestion has come as a damper to our spirits, and, as I don't mind acknowledging that I am dog tired with the march, after not having used my legs for the last seven or eight weeks, I shall try to forget it by going off to sleep." Making a pillow of his cloak, he lay down on the spot where he was sitting, his example being speedily followed by the rest of the officers. The next morning the troops were on the march early, but they were not to reach the Alumbagh without opposition, for on passing a little fort to the right they were suddenly attacked by a small body of rebels posted round it. But little time was lost. Hodson's Horse, who were nearest to them, at once made a brilliant charge, scattering them in all directions. A short pause was made while the fort was dismantled, and then the column proceeded without further interruption to the Alumbagh. There was some disappointment at its appearance. Instead of finding, as they had expected, a palace, there was nothing but a large garden enclosed by a lofty wall, and having a small mosque at one end. It had evidently been a place of retirement when the Kings of Oude desired to get away from the bustle and ceremony of the great town. The Commander in Chief was thoroughly acquainted with the situation in the city, by information that he had received from a civilian named Kavanagh; who had at immense risk made his way out from the Residency, and was able to furnish plans of all the principal buildings and the route which, in the opinion of Brigadier General Inglis, was the most favourable for the attack. In the evening the reinforcements arrived, bringing up the total force to 5,000. When the orders were issued, the officers of the ----th found to their intense satisfaction that, as Captain Mallett had thought likely, the 75th was selected to remain in charge of the baggage at the Alumbagh. The force moved off, early on the morning of the 14th, but, after marching a short distance along the direct road followed by Havelock, struck off to the right, and, keeping well away from the city, came down upon the summer palace of the Kings of Oude, called the Dilkoosha. It stood on an eminence commanding a view of the whole of the eastern suburbs of the town, and was surrounded by a large park. As soon as the head of the column approached this, a heavy musketry fire broke out, and it was at once evident that their movements had been watched and the object of their march divined. The head of the column was halted for a few minutes until reinforcements came up. Then they formed into line, the artillery opened on their flanks, and with a cheer the troops advanced to the attack. "The beggars cannot shoot a bit," Frank Mallett said to his subaltern, Armstrong. "I expect they are Sepoys, for the Oude tribesmen are said to be good marksmen." Keeping up a rolling fire at the loopholes in the walls, the infantry pressed forward. The fire of the enemy slackened as they approached, and they soon forced their way in, some helping their comrades over the wall, others breaking down a gate and so pouring in. A halt was made until the greater portion of the troops came up, and then the advance was continued. The defenders of the wall had been considerably reinforced by troops stationed round the Palace itself, but they were unable to withstand the British advance, and soon began to retreat towards the city; stopping occasionally where a wall or building offered facilities for defence, but never waiting long enough for the British to get at them. In two hours all had been driven down the hill to the Martiniere College. Here again they made a stand, but were speedily driven out, and chased through the garden and park of the college, and thence across the canal into the streets of the town. Here the pursuit ceased, the ----th being told off to hold the Martiniere as an advanced position. Sir Colin established his headquarters at the Dilkoosha, the rest of the troops bivouacking around it or on the slope of the hill between it and the college. After seeing that the men were comfortable, and getting some food, most of the officers gathered on the flat roof of the college, whence a fine view was obtainable over the town. The Residency had been already pointed out to them, and the British flag could be seen floating above it. Several very large buildings, surrounded for the most part with walled gardens, rose above the low roofs of the native houses in the intervening space. "The way is pretty open. A good deal of the ground seems to be occupied with gardens, and most of the houses are so small that they could not hold many men." "I agree with you, Mallett. It is evident that we shall be passing through an open suburb rather than the town itself. Those big buildings, if held in force, will give us a good deal of trouble. They are regular fortresses." "I don't think that any of them are built of stone. They all seem to be whitewashed." "That is so," the Major agreed, as he examined them through his field glass. "I suppose stone is scarce in this neighbourhood, but it is probable that the walls are of brickwork, and very thick. They will have to be regularly breached before we can carry them. "It makes one sad to think that that flag, which has waved over the Residency for the last five months, defying all the efforts of enormously superior numbers, is to come down, and that these scoundrels will be able to exult in the possession of the place that has defied all their efforts to take it. Still one feels that Sir Cohn's decision is a necessary one. It would never do to have six or seven thousand men shut up there, when there is urgent work to be done in a score of other places. Besides, it would need a vast magazine of provisions to maintain them. Our force, even when joined by the garrison, would be wholly inadequate for so tremendous a task as reducing to submission a city containing at least half-a-million inhabitants, together with thirty or forty thousand mutineers and a host of Oude's best men, with the advantage of the possession of a score or two of buildings, all of which are positive fortresses." "No, there is nothing for it but to fall back again till we have a force sufficient to capture the whole city, and utterly defeat its defenders. With us away, this place will become the focus of the mutiny. Half the fugitives from Delhi will find their way here, and at least we shall be able to crush them at one blow, instead of having to scour the country for them for months. The more of them gather here the better; and then, when we do capture the place, there will be an end of the mutiny, though, of course, there will still be the work of hunting down scattered bands." "We may look forward to very much harder work tomorrow than we have had today," Captain Johnson said. "With these glasses I can make out that the place is crowded with men. Of course, today we took them somewhat by surprise, as they would naturally expect us to follow Havelock's line. But now that they know what our real intentions are, they will be able to mass their whole force to oppose us." "So much the better," Frank Mallett said. "There is no mistaking the feeling of the troops. They are burning to avenge Cawnpore, and little mercy will be shown the rebels who fall into their hands." "I should advise any of you gentlemen who want to write home," the Colonel said, gravely, "to do so this evening. There is no doubt that we shall take those places, but I think that there is also no doubt that our death roll will be heavy. You must not judge by their fighting today of the stand that they are likely to make tomorrow. They know well enough that they will get no quarter after what has taken place, and will fight desperately to the end." Most of the officers took his advice. Captain Mallett sat down on the parapet, took out a notebook, and wrote in pencil: "Dear Sir John: "Although it is but four days since I posted you a long letter from Cawnpore that I had written on our way up the river, I think it as well to write a few lines in pencil. You will not get them unless I go down tomorrow, as I shall of course tear them up if I get through all right. I am writing now within sight of the Residency. We had a bit of a fight today, but the rebels did not make any serious stand. Tomorrow it will be different, for we shall have to fight our way through the town, and there is no doubt that the resistance will be very obstinate. I have nothing to add to what I wrote to you last. What I should like you to know is that I thought of you all this evening, and that I send you and Lady Greendale and Bertha my best wishes for your long life and happiness. "Yours most sincerely, "Frank Mallett." He tore the page from his notebook, put it in an envelope and directed it, then placed it in an inner pocket of his uniform. "So you are not writing, Marshall," he said, as he went across to the young ensign who was sitting on the angle of the parapet. "I have no one particular to write to, Captain Mallett, and the only persons who will feel any severe sorrow if I fall tomorrow are my creditors." "We should all be sorry, Marshall, very sorry. Ever since we sailed from Plymouth your conduct has shown that you have determined to retrieve your previous folly. The Colonel himself spoke to me about it the other day, and remarked that he had every hope that you would turn out a steady and useful officer. We have all noticed that beyond the regular allowance of wine you have drunk nothing, and that you did not touch a card throughout the voyage." "I have not spent a penny since I went on board at Plymouth," the lad said. "I got the paymaster to give me an order on London for the amount of pay due to me the day we got to Cawnpore, and posted it to Morrison; so he has got some fifteen pounds out of the fire. Of course it is not much, but at any rate it will show him I mean to pay up honestly." "Well done, lad. You are quite right to give up cards, and to cut yourself off liquors beyond the Queen's allowance; but don't stint yourself in necessaries. For instance, fruit is necessary here, and of course when we once get into settled quarters, you must keep a horse of some sort, as everyone else will do so. How much did you really have from Morrison in cash?" "Three hundred; for which I gave him bills for four fifty and a lien on my commission." "All right, lad, I will write to my solicitor in London, and get him to see Morrison, and ask him to meet you fairly in the matter. He will know that it will be years before you are likely to be in England again, and that if you are killed he will lose altogether; so under these circumstances I have no doubt that he will be glad enough to make a considerable abatement, perhaps to content himself with the sum that you really had from him." "I am afraid that my letter, with the enclosure, assuring him that I will in time pay the amount due, will harden his heart," Marshall laughed. "I am much obliged all the same, but I don't think that it will be of any use." However, on leaving him, Mallett went downstairs, borrowed some ink from the quartermaster, and wrote to his solicitor, enclosing a cheque for 300 pounds, with instructions to see the money lender. "You will find that he will be glad enough to hand over young Marshall's bills for four fifty for that amount," he said. "He has already had fifteen pounds, which is a fair interest for the three hundred for the time the lad has had it. He will know well enough that if Marshall dies he will lose every penny, and that at any rate he will have to wait many years before he can get it. I have no doubt that he would jump at an offer of a couple of hundred, but it is just as well that the young fellow should feel the obligation for some time, and as the man did lend him the money it would be unfair that he should be an absolute loser." Chapter 3. The next morning three days' rations were served out to the troops, and the advance begun; the movement being directed against the Secunderbagh, a large garden surrounded by a very high and strong wall loopholed for musketry. To reach it a village, fortified and strongly held, had first to be carried. The attack was led by Brigadier Hope's brigade, of which the regiment formed part. As they approached the village, so heavy a musketry fire was opened upon them that the order to advance was changed and the leading regiment moved forward in skirmishing order. The horse artillery and heavy field guns were brought up, and poured a tremendous fire into the village, driving the defenders from their post on the walls. As soon as this was accomplished, the infantry rushed forward and stormed the village, the enemy opposing a stout resistance, occupying the houses and fighting to the last. The main body of them, however, fled to the Secunderbagh. The 4th Sikhs had been ordered to lead the attack, while the British infantry of the brigade were to cover the operation. The men were, however, too excited and too eager to get at the enemy to remain inactive, and on leaving the village dashed forward side by side with the Sikhs and attacked the wall. There was a small breach in this, and many of the men rushed through it before the enemy, taken by surprise, could offer a serious resistance. The entrance was, however, so narrow that very few men could pass in, and while a furious fight was raging inside, the rest of the troops tried in vain to find some means of entering. There were two barred windows, one on each side of the gate, and some of the troopers creeping under these raised their shakos on their bayonets. The defenders fired a heavy volley into them, and the soldiers, leaping to their feet, sprang at the bars and pulled them down by main force, before the defenders had time to reload. Then they leaped down inside, others followed them, the gates were opened, and the main body of troops poured in. The garden was held by 2,000 mutineers. With shouts of "Remember Cawnpore," the troops flung themselves upon them; and although the mutineers fought desperately, and the struggle was continued for a considerable time, every man was at last shot or bayoneted. In the meantime a serious struggle was going on close by. Nearly facing the Secunderbagh stood the large Mosque of Shah Nujeeff. It had a domed roof, with a loopholed parapet and four minarets, which were filled with riflemen. It stood in a large garden surrounded by a high wall, also loopholed, the entrance being blocked up with solid masonry. The fire from this building had seriously galled Hope's division, while engaged in forcing its way into the Secunderbagh, and Captain Peel, with the Naval Brigade, brought up the heavy guns against it. He took up his position within a few yards of the wall and opened a heavy fire, assisted by that of a mortar battery and a field battery of Bengal Artillery; the Highlanders covering the sailors and artillerymen as they worked their guns, by a tremendous fire upon the enemy's loopholes. So massive were the walls that it was several hours before even the sixty-eight pounders of the Naval Brigade succeeded in effecting a breach. As soon as this was done the impatient infantry were ordered to the assault, and rushing in, overpowered all resistance, and slew all within the enclosure, save a few who effected their escape by leaping from the wall at the rear. It was now late in the afternoon, and operations ceased for the day. The buildings on which the enemy had chiefly relied for their defence had been captured, and the difficulties still to be encountered were comparatively small. The next day an attack was made upon a strong building known as the Mess House. This was first breached by the artillery, and then carried by assault by the 53rd and 90th regiments, and a detachment of Sikhs; the latter, single handed, storming another building called the Observatory, in the rear of the Mess House. At the same time the garrison of the Residency had, in accordance with the plan brought out by Kavanagh, begun operations on their side. The capture of the Secunderbagh and Mosque had been signalled to them, and while the attack on the Mess House was being carried out they had blown down the outer wall of their defences, shelled the ground beyond, and then advanced, carrying two large buildings facing them at the point of the bayonet. All day the fighting continued, the British gaining ground on either side. The next day the houses still intervening between them were captured, and in the afternoon the defenders of the Residency and the relieving force joined hands. The total loss of the latter was 122 officers and men killed and 345 wounded. Frank Mallett's letter to Sir John Greendale was not sent off. He received a bullet through the left arm as the troops advanced against the Secunderbagh, but, using his sash as a sling, led on his company against the defenders crowded in the garden, and took part in the desperate fighting. Three of his brother officers were killed during the three days' fighting, and five others wounded. "Well, Marshall," he said on the evening of the day when the way was open to the Residency; "you have not cheated your creditor, I see." "No, Captain Mallett. I thought of him when those fellows in the mosque were keeping such a heavy fire upon us as we were waiting to get into the Secunderbagh. It seemed to me that his chance of ever getting his money was not worth much. How the bullets did whizz about! I felt sure that we should be all mown down before we could get under the shelter of the wall. "I don't think I shall ever feel afraid in battle again. One gets to see that musketry fire is not so very dangerous after all. If it were, very few of us would have got through the three days' fighting alive, whereas the casualties only amount to one-tenth of the force engaged. I am very sorry you are wounded." "Oh, my wound is a mere trifle. I scarcely felt it until the sergeant next to me said, 'You are wounded in the arm, Captain Mallett.' The doctor says that it narrowly missed the bone, but in this case a miss is as good as a mile. I am very sorry about Hatchard and Rivers and Miles. They were all good fellows, and when this excitement is over we shall miss them sadly. It will give you your step." "Yes, I won't say that it is lucky, for one cannot forget how it has been gained. Still it is a good lift for me, for there are two or three down for purchase below me, and otherwise I should have had to wait a long time. It puts you one higher on the list, Captain Mallett." "I am going to clear out altogether as soon as the fighting is all over, so whether I am fourth or fifth on the list makes no difference whatever to me." "Still it is a great satisfaction to have been through this and to have taken one's share in the work of revenge. It was a horrible business in the Secunderbagh, though one did not think of it at the time. The villains richly deserved what they got, but I own that I should not care to go into the place again. They must have suffered tremendously altogether. The Colonel said this afternoon that he found their loss had been put down as at least six or seven thousand." The regiment took its full share in the work that followed the relief of Lucknow, portions being attached to each of the flying columns which scoured Oude, defeated Kunwer Singh, and drove the rebels before them wherever they encountered them. In the beginning of February the vacancies in the ranks were filled up by a draft from England. The work had been fatiguing in the extreme, but the men were as a rule in splendid health, the constant excitement preventing their suffering from the effect of heat or attacks of fever. Two companies which had been away from the headquarters of the regiment for six weeks, found on their return a number of letters awaiting them, the first they had received since leaving England. Captain Mallett, who commanded this detachment, found one from Sir John Greendale, written after the receipt of his letter from Cawnpore. "My Dear Mallett: "We were all delighted to get your letter. Long before we received it we had the news of the desperate fighting at Lucknow, which was, of course, telegraphed down to the coast and got here before your letter. You may imagine that we looked anxiously through the list of killed and wounded, and were glad indeed that your name in the latter had the word 'slightly' after it. "Things are going on here much as usual. There was a terrible sensation on the very morning after you left, at the disappearance of Martha Bennett, the daughter of one of your tenants. She left the house just at dusk the evening before, and has not been heard of since. As she took nothing with her, it is improbable in the extreme that she can have fled, and there can be little doubt that the poor girl was murdered, possibly by some passing tramps. However, though the strictest search was made throughout the neighbourhood, her body has never been discovered. "We lost another neighbour just about the time you left--Percy Carthew. He went for a year's big game shooting in North America. We don't miss him much, as he lived in London, and was not often down at his place. I don't remember his being there since you came back from the Crimea. Anyhow, I do not think that I ever saw you and him together, either in a hunting field or at a dinner party; which, of course, you would have been had you both been down here at the same time. If I remember right, you were at the same school." And then followed some gossip about mutual friends, and the letter concluded: "The general excitement is calming down a little now that Delhi is taken and the garrison of Lucknow brought off. Of course there will be a great deal more fighting before the whole thing is over, but there is no longer any fear for the safety of India. The Sikhs have come out splendidly. Who would have thought it after the tremendous thrashing we gave them a few years back? "Take care of yourself, lad. You have the Victoria Cross and can do very well without a bar, so give someone else the chance. My wife and Bertha send their love." Two or three of his other letters were from friends in regiments at home bewailing their hard fortune at being out of the fighting. The last he opened bore the latest postmark. It was from his solicitor, and enclosed Marshall's cancelled bill. "Of course, as you requested me to give 300 pounds for the enclosed, I did so, but by the way in which Morrison jumped at the offer I believe that he would have been glad to have taken half that sum." Mallett had gone into his tent to open his letters in quiet. He presently went to the entrance, and catching sight of Marshall called him up. "I have managed that affair for you, Marshall," he said; "and have arranged it in a way that I am sure will be satisfactory to us both. You must look upon me now as your creditor instead of Morrison, and you won't find me a hard one. Here is your cancelled bill for four hundred and fifty. I got it for three hundred, so that a third of your debt is wiped off at once. As to the rest, you can pay me as you intended to pay him, but I don't want you to stint yourself unnecessarily. Pay me ten or fifteen pounds at a time at your convenience, and don't let us say anything more about it." "But I may be killed," Marshall said, in a voice struggling with emotion. "If you are, lad, there is an end of the business. As you know, I am very well off, and the loss would not affect me in any way. Very likely you will light upon some rich booty in one of these affairs with a rebel Rajah, and will be able to pay it all off at once." "I will if I can, Mallett, though I think that it will be much more satisfactory to do it out of my savings, except that I shall have the pleasure of knowing that if I were wiped out afterwards you would not be a loser." A few days later Frank Mallett was sent with his company to rout out a party of rebels reported to be in possession of a large village twenty miles away. Armstrong was laid up by a slight attack of fever, and he asked that Marshall should be appointed in his place on this occasion. "One wants two subalterns, Colonel," he said, "for a business like this. I may have to detach a party to the back of the village to cut off the rebels' retreat, and it may be necessary to assault in two places." "Certainly. Take Marshall if you wish it, Captain Mallett. The young fellow has been behaving excellently, and has gone far to retrieve his character. Captain Johnson has reported to me that he is exemplary in his duties, and has shown much gallantry under fire, especially in that affair near Neemuch, in which he rushed forward and carried off a wounded man who would otherwise have certainly been killed. I reported the case to the Brigadier, who said that at any other time the young fellow would probably have been recommended for a V.C., but that there were so many cases of individual gallantry that there was no chance of his getting that; but Marshall was specially mentioned in orders four days ago, and this will, of course, count in his favour. "Take him with you by all means; your ensign only joined with the last draft, and you will certainly want someone with you of greater experience than he has." Marshall was delighted when he heard that he was to accompany Captain Mallett. In addition to his own company, a hundred men of the Punjaub infantry and fifty Sikh horse were under Captain Mallett's command, the native troops being added at the last moment, as a report of another body of mutineers marching in the same direction had just come in. Frank spent a quarter of an hour in inspecting some maps of the country, and had a talk with the native who was to act as guide. When the little force was drawn up, he marched off in quite another direction from that in which the village lay. Being in command, he was mounted for the first time during the campaign. The lieutenant in command of the Sikhs presently rode up to him. "I beg your pardon, Captain Mallett, but I cannot but think that your guide is taking you in the wrong direction. I looked at the map before starting, and find that Dousi lies almost due north. We are marching west." "You are quite right, Mr. Hammond, but, you see, I don't want any of the natives about the camp to guess where we are going. None of these Oude fellows bears us any goodwill, and one of them might hurry off, and carry information as to the line we were following. "We will march four miles along this road, and then strike off by another leading north. We must surprise them if we can. We don't really know much about their force, and even if we did, they may be joined by some other body before we get there--there are numerous bands of them all over the country. And in the next place, if they knew that we were coming, they might bolt before we got there. "Besides, some of these villages are very strong, and we might suffer a good deal before we could carry it if they had notice of our coming. However, you were quite right to point out to me that we were not going in what seemed the right direction." The column started at four o'clock in the afternoon. It had been intended that it should move off at daybreak on the following morning, but Frank had suggested to the Colonel that it would be advantageous to march half the distance that night. "Of course, we could do the twenty miles tomorrow, Colonel," he said, "but the men would hardly be in the best fighting trim when they got there. Moreover, by starting in the afternoon, the natives here would imagine that we were going to pounce upon some fugitives at a village not far away." The permission was readily granted, and accordingly, after marching until nine o'clock in the evening, the column halted in a grove of trees to which their guide led them, half a mile from the road. Each man carried four days' cooked provisions in his haversack. There was therefore no occasion for fires to be lighted, and after seeing that sentries were placed round the edge of the grove, Frank Mallett joined the officers who were gathered in the centre. "What time shall we march tomorrow?" the officer in command of the native infantry asked. "Not until the heat of the day is over. We have come about twelve miles, and have as much more to do; and if we start at the same hour as we did today we shall get there about nine. I shall halt half a mile away, reconnoitre the place at night, and if the ground is open enough to move without making a noise, we will post the troops in the positions they are to occupy, and attack as soon as day breaks. "In that way we shall get the benefit of surprise, and at the same time have daylight to prevent their escaping. Besides, if we attacked at night a good many of the villagers, and perhaps women, might be killed in the confusion. "Tomorrow morning we will cut down some young saplings and make a dozen scaling ladders. We have brought a bag of gunpowder to blow open the gate, and if the main body enter there while two parties scale the walls at other points we shall get them in a trap." At about nine o'clock the next evening the guide said that they were now within half a mile of the village, and they accordingly halted. The men were ordered to keep silence, and to lie down and sleep as soon as they had eaten their supper; while Mallett, accompanied by the two officers of the native troops and the guide, made his way towards the village. It was found to be larger than had been anticipated. On three sides cultivated fields extended to the foot of the strong wall that surrounded it, while on the fourth there was rough broken ground covered with scrub and brushes. "How far does this extend?" Captain Mallett asked the guide. "About half a mile, and then joins a big jungle, sahib." "This is the side they will try to escape by; therefore, Mr. Herbert, you will lead your men round here with four scaling ladders. You will post them along at the foot of the wall, and when you hear the explosion of the powder bag or an outburst of musketry firing, you will scale the wall and advance to meet me, keeping as wide a front as possible, so as to prevent fugitives from passing you and getting out here. The cavalry will cut off those who make across the open country. I would give a good deal to know how many of these fellows are inside. Four hundred was the number first reported. They may, of course, have already moved away, and on the other hand they may have been joined by others. They were said to have some guns with them, but these will be of little use in the streets of the village, and we shall probably capture them before they have time to fire a single round." At three o'clock the troops stood to their arms, and moved noiselessly off towards the positions assigned to them. Captain Mallett led his own company to within four hundred yards of the wall, and then sent Marshall forward with two men to fix the powder bag and fuse to the gate. When they had done this they were to remain quietly there until warned that the company was about to advance; then they were to light the fuse, which was cut to burn two minutes, to retire round the angle of the wall, and join the company as it came up. The troops lay down, for the ground was level, and there was no spot behind which they could conceal themselves, and impatiently watched the sky until the first gleam of light appeared. Another ten minutes elapsed. The dawn was spreading fast, and a man was sent forward to Lieutenant Marshall to say that the company was getting in motion. As soon as the messenger was seen to reach the gates, Mallett gave the word. The men sprang to their feet. "Don't double, men. We shall be there in time, and it is no use getting out of breath and spoiling your shooting." They were within a hundred yards of the gate, when they heard a shout from the village, and as they pressed on, shot after shot rang out from the wall. A moment later there was a heavy explosion, and as the smoke cleared off, the gate was seen to be destroyed. A few seconds later, the troops burst through the opening. Infantry bugles were sounding in the village, and there was a loud din of shouting, cries of alarm and orders. From every house the mutineers rushed, musket in hand, but were shot down or bayoneted by the troops. As the latter approached a large open space in the middle of the village a strong body of Sepoys advanced in good order to meet them, led by their native officers. "Steady, men, steady," Captain Mallett shouted. "Form across the street." Quickly the men fell in, though several dropped as a volley flashed out from the Sepoy line. "One volley and then charge," Mallett shouted. Some of the guns were already empty, but the rest poured in their fire, when the word was given, as regularly as if on parade. "Level bayonets--charge!" And with a loud cheer the soldiers sprang forward. The Sepoys, well commanded though they were, wavered and broke; but the British were upon them before they could fly, and with shouts of "Cawnpore," used their bayonets with deadly effect, driving the enemy before them. As they came into the open, and the fugitives cleared away on either side, they saw a long line of men drawn up. A moment later a flash of fire ran along it. "Shoulder to shoulder, men," Captain Mallett shouted. "Give them the bayonet." With a hoarse roar of rage, for many of their comrades had fallen, the company rushed forward and burst through the line of mutineers as if it had been a sheet of paper. Then they divided, and Captain Mallett with half the company turned to the right. Marshall took the other wing to the left. Encouraged by the smallness of the number of their assailants, the mutineers, cheered on by their officers, resisted stoutly. A scattering fire opened upon the British from the houses round, and the shouts of the mutineers rose louder and louder, when a heavy volley was suddenly poured into them, and the Punjaubies rushed out from the street facing that by which the British had entered. They bore to the right, and fell upon the body with which Marshall was engaged. The Sepoys, taken wholly by surprise, at once lost heart. Cheering loudly, the British attacked them with increased ardour, while the Punjaubies flung themselves into their midst. In an instant, that flank of the Sepoys was scattered in headlong flight, hotly pursued by their foes. There was no firing, for the muskets were all empty; but the bayonet did its work, and the open space and the streets leading from it were thickly strewn with dead. The Sepoys attacked by Captain Mallett's party, on the other hand, though shaken for a moment, stood firm; led by two or three native officers, who, fighting with the greatest bravery, exhorted their men to continue their resistance. "Would you rather be hung than fight?" they shouted. "They are but a handful; we are five to one against them. Forward, men, and exterminate these Feringhees before the others can come back to their assistance." The Sepoys were now the assailants, and with furious shouts pressed round the little body of British troops. "Steady, men, steady," Captain Mallett shouted, as he drove his sword through the body of one of the rebel leaders who rushed at him. "Keep together, back to back. We shall have help here in a minute." It was longer than that, however, before relief came. For three or four minutes a desperate struggle went on, then Marshall's voice was heard shouting: "This way, men, this way!" A moment later there was a surging movement in the ranks of the insurgents, and with a dozen men Marshall burst through them, and joined the party. These at once fell furiously upon the mutineers, and the latter were already giving way when some fifty of the Punjaubies, led by their officers, fell upon them. The effect was decisive. The Sepoys scattered at once, and fled in all directions, pursued by the furious soldiers and the Punjaubies. Reaching the walls, the fugitives leapt recklessly down. Forty or fifty of them were cut down by the cavalry, but the greater portion reached the broken ground in safety. Here the cavalry could not follow them, for the ground was covered with rocks and boulders concealed by the bushes. In the village itself three hundred and fifty lay dead. "Thanks, Marshall," Frank Mallett said, when the fight in the village was over. "You arrived just in time, for it was going very hard with us. Altogether it was more than we bargained for, for they were certainly over a thousand strong. They must have been joined by a very strong party yesterday." "I ought not to have gone so far," Marshall replied, "but I had no idea that all the Punjaubies had come to our side of the fight. The men were so eager that I had the greatest difficulty in getting them off the pursuit. Fortunately I met Herbert, and learned that all his men were with us. Then I gathered a dozen of our fellows, and rushed off, telling him to follow as soon as he could get some of his men together. "You can imagine what agony I felt when, as I entered the open space, I saw a surging mass of Sepoys, and no sign of any of you; and how I cursed my own folly, and what delight I felt, as on cutting our way through we found that you were still on your feet." "Yes, it was a close shave, Marshall; another two or three minutes and it would have been all over. The men fought like lions, as you can see by the piled-up dead there. Half of them were down, and twenty men cannot hold out long against four or five hundred. "We owe our lives to you beyond all question. I don't see that you were in the least to blame in the matter, for naturally you would suppose that some of the Punjaubies would have joined us. Besides, it was of course essential that you should not give the Sepoys time to rally, but should follow them up hotly. "Where is Anstruther?" "I don't know. I have not seen him since we entered the square." "Have any of you seen Mr. Anstruther?" Captain Mallett asked, turning to some soldiers standing near. "He is lying over there, sir," one of the men said. "He was just in front of me when the Pandies fired that volley at us as we came out of the streets, and he pitched forward and fell like a stone. I think that he was shot through the head, sir." They went across to the spot. The ensign lay there shot through the brain. Four or five soldiers lay round him; one of them was dead, the others more or less seriously wounded. "Sound the assembly," Captain Mallett said, as he turned away sadly, to a bugler. "Let us see what our losses are." Chapter 4. The bugle sounded, and in a short time the infantry fell in. They had been engaged in searching the houses for mutineers. The Punjaubies had lost but five killed and thirteen wounded, while of the whites an officer and eighteen men were killed and sixteen wounded; nine of the former having fallen in the bayonet struggle with the Sepoys. Nine guns were captured, none of which had been fired, the attack having been so sudden that the Sepoys had only had time to fall in before their assailants were upon them. "It is a creditable victory," Mallett said, "considering that we had to face more than double the number that we expected. Our casualties are heavy, but they are nothing to those of the mutineers. "Sergeant, take a file of men and go round and count the number of the enemy who have fallen. "Ah, here comes a Sowar, and we shall hear what the cavalry have been doing outside." The trooper handed him a paper: "Fifty-three of the enemy killed, the rest escaped into the jungle. On our side two wounded; one seriously, one slightly." "That is as well as we could expect, Marshall. Of course, most of them got over the wall at the back. You see, all our plans were disarranged by finding them in such unexpected strength. Had we been able to thrash them by ourselves, the Punjaubies would have cut off the retreat in that direction. As it was, that part of the business is a failure." The Sergeant presently returned. "There are 340 in the streets, sir," he reported; "and I reckon there are another 20 or 30 killed in the houses, but I have not searched them yet." "That is sufficiently close; upwards of 400 is good enough. "Now, Mr. Marshall, set the men to work making stretchers to carry the wounded. "Mr. Herbert, will you tell off a party of your men to dig a large grave outside the village for the killed, and a small one apart for Mr. Anstruther? Poor fellow, I am sorry indeed at his loss; he would have made a fine officer. "Sergeant Hugging, take a party and search the village for provisions. We have got bread, but lay hands on any fowls or goats that you can find, and there may be some sheep." While this party was away, another tore down the woodwork of an empty house, and fires were soon burning, an abundance of fowl and goats having been obtained. The cavalry had by this time come in. While the meal was being cooked the British and Punjaub dead were carried out to the spot where the grave had been dug. The troops had a hearty meal, and then marched out from the village. They were drawn up round the graves, and the bodies were laid reverently in them. Captain Mallett said a few words over them; the earth was then shovelled in and levelled, and the troops marched to a wood a mile distant, where they halted until the heat of the day was over. They returned by the direct road to the camp, which they reached at midnight. All concerned gained great credit for the heavy blow that had been inflicted on the mutineers, and the affair was highly spoken of in the Brigadier's report to the Commander in Chief. Shortly afterwards Mallett's name appeared in general orders as promoted to a brevet Majority, pending a confirmation by the home authorities. Two days after the return of the little column, the brigade marched and joined the force collected at Cawnpore for the final operation against Lucknow, and on the 3rd of March reached the Commander in Chief at the Dil Koosha, which had been captured with the same ease as on the occasion of the former advance. They found that while the main body had gathered there, 6,000 men under Sir James Outram had crossed the Goomtee from the Alum Bagh, and, after defeating two serious attacks by the enemy, had taken up a position at Chinhut. On the 9th, Sir Colin Campbell captured the Martiniere with trifling loss. On the 11th General Outram pushed his advance as far as the iron bridge, and established batteries commanding the passage of the stone bridge also. On the 12th the Imambarra was breached and stormed, and the troops pressed so hotly on the flying enemy that they entered the Kaiser Bagh, the strongest fortified palace in the city, and drove the enemy from it. The ----th was engaged in this action, and Major Mallett was leading his company to the assault on the Imambarra when a shot brought him to the ground. When he recovered his senses he found himself in a chamber that had been hastily converted into a hospital, with the regimental doctor leaning over him. "What has happened?" he asked. "You have been hit, Mallett, and have had a very close shave of it, indeed; but as it is, you will soon be about again." "Where was I hit? I don't feel any pain." "You were hit in the neck, about half an inch above the collarbone, and the ball has gone through the muscles of the neck; and beyond the fact that you won't be able to turn your head for some time, you will be none the worse for it. An inch further to the right, or an inch lower or higher, and it would have been fatal. It was not one of the enemy who did you this service, for the ball went up from behind, and came out in front; it is evidently a random shot from one of our own fellows." "I am always more afraid of a shot from behind than I am of one in front when I am leading the company, doctor. The men get so excited that they blaze away anyhow, and in the smoke are just as likely to hit an officer two or three paces ahead of them as an enemy. How long have I been insensible?" "You were brought in here half an hour ago, and I don't suppose that you had lain many minutes on the ground before you were picked up." "Have we taken the Imambarra?" "Yes, and what is better still, our fellows rushed into the Kaiser Bagh at the heels of the enemy. We got the news ten minutes ago." "That is good indeed. We anticipated desperate fighting before we took that." "Yes, it was an unlucky shot, Mallett, that knocked you out of your share in the loot. We have always heard that the place was full of treasure and jewels." "If there is no one else who wants your attention, doctor, I advise you to join the regiment there for an hour or two. As for me, I care nothing about the loot. There are plenty of fellows who will benefit by it more than I should, and I give up my share willingly." The doctor shook his head. "I am afraid I cannot do that; but, between ourselves, I have let Ferguson slip away, and he is to divide what he gets with me." "Have we any wounded?" "I don't know yet. The whole thing was done so suddenly that the loss cannot have been heavy. I was in the rear of the brigade when you were brought in, and as the case at first looked bad, I got some of the stretcher men with me to burst open the door of this house and established a dozen temporary beds here. As you see, there are only four others tenanted, and they are all hopeless cases. No doubt the rest have all been carried off to the rear, as only the men who helped me would have known of this place. "Now that you have come round, I will send a couple of hospital orderlies in here and be off myself to the hospital in the rear. I will look in again this evening." In a short time the doctor returned with an orderly. "I cannot find another now," he said, "but one will be enough. Here is a flask of brandy, and he will find you water somewhere. There is nothing to be done for any of you at present, except to give you drink when you want it." Two hours later Marshall came in. "Thank God you are not dangerously hurt, Mallett," he said. "I only heard that you were down three-quarters of an hour ago, when I ran against Armstrong in the Kaiser Bagh. He told me that he had seen you fall at the beginning of the fight, and I got leave from the Colonel to look for you. At the hospital, no one seemed to know anything about you, but I luckily came across Jefferies, who told me where to find you, and that your wound was not serious, so I hurried back here. He said that you would be taken to the hospital this evening." "Yes, I am in luck again. Like the last it is only a flesh wound, though it is rather worse, for I expect that I shall have to go about with a stiff neck for some weeks to come, and it is disgusting being laid up in the middle of an affair like this. Have we lost many fellows?" "No. Scobell is the only officer killed. Hunter, Groves and Parkinson are wounded--Parkinson, they say, seriously. We have twenty-two rank and file killed, and twenty or thirty wounded. I have not seen the returns." "And how about the loot, Marshall?" Mallett said, with a smile. "Was that all humbug?" "It is stupendous. We were among the first at the Kaiser Bagh, and I don't believe that there is a man who has not got his pockets stuffed with gold coins. There were chests and chests full. They did not bother about the jewels--I think they took them for coloured glass. I kept my eyes open, and picked up enough to pay my debt to you five times over." "I am heartily glad of that, Marshall. Don't let it slip through your fingers again." "That you may be sure I won't. I shall send them all home to our agent to sell, and have the money put by for purchasing my next step. I have had my lesson, and it will last me for life. "Well, I must be going now, old man. The Colonel did not like letting me go, as of course the men want looking after, and the Pandies may make an effort to drive us out of the Kaiser Bagh again; so goodbye. If I can get away this evening I will come to see you at the hospital." A week later Frank Mallett was sitting in a chair by his bedside. The fighting was all over, and a strange quiet had succeeded the long roar of battle. His neck was strapped up with bandages, and save that he was unable to move his head in the slightest degree, he felt well enough to take his place with the regiment again. Many of his fellow officers dropped in from time to time for a short chat, but the duty was heavy. All open resistance had ceased, but the troops were engaged in searching the houses, and turning out all rough characters who had made Lucknow their centre, and had no visible means of subsistence. Large gangs of the lower class population were set to work to bury the dead, which would otherwise have rendered the city uninhabitable. Strong guards were posted at night, alike to prevent soldiers from wandering in search of loot and to prevent fanatics from making sudden attacks. "There is a wounded man in the hospital across the road who wants to see you, Mallett," the surgeon said one morning. "He belongs to your company, but as he only came out with the last draft, and was transferred only on the day that the fighting began, I don't suppose you know him. He said I was to tell you his name was George Lechmere, though he enlisted as John Hilton." "I seem to know the name, doctor, though I don't remember at present where I came across him. I suppose I can go in to see him?" "Oh, yes, there is no objection whatever. Your wound is doing as well as can be; though, of course, you are still weak from loss of blood. I shall send you up this afternoon to the hospital just established in the park of the Dil Koosha. We shall get you all out as soon as we can, for the stench of this town at present is dreadful, and wounds cannot be expected to do well in such a poisoned atmosphere." "Is this man badly hit, doctor?" "Very dangerously. I have scarcely a hope of saving him, and think it probable that he may not live another twenty-four hours. Of course, he may take a change for the better. I will take you to him. I have finished here now." "It must have been a bad time for you, doctor," Mallett said, as they went across. "Tremendously hard, but most interesting. I had not had more than two hours' sleep at a time since the fighting began, till last night, and then I could not keep up any longer. Of course, it has been the same with us all, and the heat has made it very trying. I am particularly anxious to get the wounded well out of the place, for now that the excitement is over I expect an outbreak of fever or dysentery. "There, that is your man in the corner bed over there." Mallett went over to the bedside, and looked at the wounded man. His face was drawn and pinched, his eyes sunken in his head, his face deadly pale, and his hair matted with perspiration. "Do you know me, Captain Mallett?" "No, lad, I cannot say that I do, though when the doctor told me your name it seemed familiar to me. Very likely I should have recognised you if I had met you a week since, but, you see, we are both altered a good deal from the effect of our wounds." "I am the son of Farmer Lechmere, your tenant." "Good heavens! man. You don't mean to say you are Lechmere's eldest son, George! What in the world brought you to this?" "You did," the man said, sternly. "Your villainy brought me here." Frank Mallett gave a start of astonishment that cost him so violent a twinge in his wound that he almost cried out with sudden pain. "What wild idea have you got into your head, my poor fellow?" he said soothingly. "I am conscious of having done no wrong to you or yours. I saw your father and mother on the afternoon before I came away. They made no complaint of anything." "No, they were contented enough. Do you know, Captain Mallett, that I loved Martha Bennett?" "No. I have been so little at home of recent years that I know very little of the private affairs of my tenants, but I remember her, of course, and I was grieved to learn by a letter from Sir John Greendale the other day that in some strange way she was missing." "Who knew that better than yourself?" the man said, raising himself on his elbow, and fixing a look of such deadly hatred upon Mallett, that the latter involuntarily drew back a step. "I saw you laughing and talking to her in front of her father's house. I heard you with her in their garden the evening before you left and she disappeared, and it was my voice you heard in the lane. Had I known that you were going that night, I would have followed you and killed you, and saved her. The next morning you were both gone. I waited a time and then went to the depot of your regiment and enlisted. I had failed to save her, but at least I could avenge her. That bullet was mine, and had you not stumbled over a Pandy's body, I suppose, just as I pulled my trigger, you would have been a dead man. "I did not know that I had failed, and, rushing forward with my company, was in the thickest of the fight. I wanted to be killed, but no shot struck me, and at last, when chasing a Pandy along a passage in the Kaiser Bagh, he turned and levelled his piece at me. Mine was loaded, and I could have shot him down as he turned, but I stood and let him have his shot. When I found myself here I was sorry that he had not finished me at once, but when I heard that you were alive, and likely to recover, I thanked him in my heart that he had left me a few more days of life, that I could let you know that it was I who had fired, and that Martha's wrong had not been wholly unavenged." He sank back exhausted on to the pillow. Frank Mallett had made no attempt to interrupt him: the sudden agony of his wound and his astonishment at this strange accusation had given him so grave a shock that he leaned against the wall behind him in silent wonder. "Hello! Mallett, what the deuce is the matter with you?" the surgeon exclaimed, as, looking up from a patient over whom he was bending a short distance away, his eyes fell on the officer's face. "You look as if you were going to faint, man. "Here, orderly, some brandy and water, quickly!" Frank drank some of the brandy and water and sat down for a few minutes. Then, when he saw the surgeon at the other end of the room, he got up and went across to Lechmere's bed. "There is some terrible mistake, Lechmere," he said, quietly. "I swear to you on my honour as a gentleman that you are altogether wrong. From the moment that I got into my dog cart at Bennett's I never saw Martha again. I know nothing whatever of this talk in the garden. Did you think you saw me as well as heard me?" "No, you were on one side of that high wall and I on the other, but I heard enough to know who it was. You told her that you had to go abroad at once, but that if she would come out there you would put her in charge of someone until you could marry her. You told her that she could not stay where she was long, and I knew what that meant. I suppose she is at Calcutta still waiting, for of course she could not have come out with you. I suppose that she is breaking her heart there now--if she is not dead, as I hope she is." "Did you hear the word Calcutta or India mentioned, Lechmere?" "No, I did not, but I heard quite enough. Everyone knew that you were going in a day or two, and that was enough for me after what I had seen in the afternoon." "You saw nothing in the afternoon," Captain Mallett said, angrily. "The girl's father and mother were at home. We were all chatting together until we came out. She came to the trap with me while they stood at the open window. It was not more than a minute before I drove off. I have not spoken to the girl half a dozen times since she was a little child. "Why, man, if everyone took such insane fancies in his head as you do, no man would dare to speak to a woman at all. "However," he went on in an altered voice, "this is not a time for anger. You are very ill, Lechmere, but the doctor has not given you up, and I trust that you will yet get round and will be able to prove to your own satisfaction that, whatever has happened to this poor girl, I, at least, am wholly innocent of it. But should you not get over this hurt, I should not like you to go to your grave believing that I had done you this great wrong. I speak to you as to a dying man, and having no interest in deceiving you, and I swear to you before Heaven that I know absolutely nothing of this. I, too, may fall from a rebel shot before long, and I thank God that I can meet you before Him as an innocent man in this matter. "I must be going, for I see the doctor coming to fetch me. Goodbye, lad, we may not meet again, though I trust we shall; but if not, I give you my full forgiveness for that shot you fired at me. It was the result of a strange mistake, but had I acted as you believed, I should have well deserved the death you intended for me." "Confound it, Mallett, there seems no end of mischief from your visit here. In the first place, you were nearly knocked over yourself, and now there is this man lying insensible. So for goodness' sake get off to your room again, and lie down and keep yourself quiet for the rest of the day. I shall have you demoralising the whole ward if you stay here." Captain Mallett walked back with a much feebler and less steady step than that with which he had entered the hospital. He had some doubts whether the man who had made this strange accusation and had so nearly taken his life was really sane, and whether he had not altogether imagined the conversation which he declared he had heard in the garden. He remembered now the sudden way in which George Lechmere had turned round and gone away when he saw him saying goodbye to Martha, and how she had shrugged her shoulders in contempt. The man must either be mad, or of a frightfully jealous disposition, to conjure up harm out of such an incident: and one who would do so might well, when his brain was on fire, conjure up this imaginary conversation. Still, he might have heard some man talking to her. From what Sir John had said, she did leave the house and go into the garden about that hour, and she certainly never returned. He remembered all about George Lechmere now. He had the reputation of being the best judge of cattle in the neighbourhood, and a thoroughly steady fellow, but he could see no resemblance in the shrunk and wasted face to that he remembered. That evening both the officers and men in the hospital were carried away to the new one outside the town. When the doctor came in before they were moved, he told Mallett that the man he had seen had recovered from his swoon. "He was very nearly gone," he said, "but we managed to get him round, and it seems to me that he has been better since. I don't know what he said to you or you to him, and I don't want to know; but he seems to have got something off his mind. He is less feverish than he was, and I have really some faint hopes of pulling him through, especially as he will now be in a more healthful atmosphere." It was a comfort indeed to all the wounded when late that evening they lay on beds in the hospital marquees. The air seemed deliciously cool and fresh, and there was a feeling of quiet and restfulness that was impossible in the town, with the constant movement of troops, the sound of falling masonry, the dust and fetid odour of decay. A week later the surgeon told Mallett that he had now hopes that the soldier he was interested in would recover. "The chances were a hundred to one against him," he said, "but the one chance has come off." "Will he be fit for service again, doctor?" "Yes, I don't see why he should not be, though it will be a long time before he can carry his kit and arms on a long day's march. It is hot enough now, but we have not got to the worst by a long way, and as there is still a vast amount of work to be done, I expect that the regiment will be off again before long." "Well, at any rate, I shall be able to go with you, doctor." "I don't quite say that, Mallett," the doctor said, doubtfully. "In another fortnight your wound will be healed so that you will be capable of ordinary duty, but certainly not long marches. If you do go you will have to ride. There must be no more marching with your company for some time." A week later orders were issued, under which the regiment was appointed to form part of the force which, under the command of General Walpole, was to undertake a campaign against Rohilcund, a district in which the great majority of the rebels who had escaped from Lucknow had now established themselves. Unfortunately, the extent of the city and the necessity for the employment of a large proportion of the British force in the actual assault, had prevented anything like a complete investment of the town, and the consequence had been that after the fall of the Kaiser Bagh, by far the greater portion of the rebel force in the city had been able to march away without molestation. Before leaving, Mallett had an interview with George Lechmere, who was now out of danger. "I should have known you now, Lechmere," he said, as he came to his bedside. "Of course you are still greatly changed, but you are getting back your old expression, and I hope that in the course of two or three months you will be able to take your place in the ranks again." "I don't know, sir. I ain't fit to stay with the regiment, and have thought of being invalided home and then buying my discharge. I know you have said nothing as to how you got that wound, not even to the doctor; for if you had done so there is not a man in hospital who would have spoken to me. But how could I join the regiment again? knowing that if there was any suspicion of what I had done, every man would draw away from me, and that there would be nothing for me to do but to put a bullet in my head." "But no one ever will know it. It was a mad act, and I believe you were partly mad at the time." "I think so myself now that I look back. I think now that I must have been mad all along. It never once entered my mind to doubt that it was you, and now I see plainly enough that except what the man said about going away--and anyone might have said that--there was not a shadow of ground or suspicion against you. But even if I had never had that suspicion I should have left home. "Why, sir, I know that my own father and mother suspected that I killed her. I resented it at the time. I felt hard and bitter against it, but as I have been lying here I have come to see that I brought their suspicions upon myself by my own conduct, and that they had a thousand times better ground for suspecting me than I had for suspecting you. "All that happened was my fault. Martha cared for me once, but it was my cursed jealousy that drove her from me. She was gay and light hearted, and it was natural for her to take her pleasure, which was harmless enough if I had not made a grievance of it. If I had not driven her from me she would have been my wife long before harm came to her; but it was as well that it was not so, for as I was then I know I should have made her life a hell. "I did it all and I have been punished for it. Even at the end she might never have gone off if I had not shouted out and tried to climb the wall. She must have recognised my voice, and, knowing that I had her secret, feared that I might kill her and him too, and so she went. She would not have gone as she did, without even a bonnet or a shawl, if it had not been for that." "Then you don't think, as most people there do, that she was murdered?" "Not a bit, sir. I never thought so for a moment. She went straight away with that man. I think now I know who it was." "Never mind about that, Lechmere. You know what the Bible says, 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,' and whoever it may be, leave him safely in God's hands." "Yes, sir, I shall try to act up to that. I was fool enough to think that I could avenge her, and a nice business I made of it." "Well, I think it is nonsense of you to think of leaving the regiment. There is work to be done here. There is the work of punishing men who have committed the most atrocious crimes. There is the work of winning back India for England. Every Englishman out here, who can carry a weapon, ought to remain at his post until the work is done. "As to this wound of mine, that is a matter between us only. As I have told you, I have altogether forgiven you, and am not even disposed greatly to blame you, thinking, as you did, that I was responsible for that poor girl's flight. I shall never mention it to a soul. I have already put it out of my mind, therefore it is as if it had never been done, and there is no reason whatever why you should shrink from companionship with your comrades. I shall think much better of you for doing your duty like a man, than if you went home again and shrank from it." "You are too good, sir, altogether too good." "Nonsense, man. Besides, you have to remember that you have not gone unpunished. Had it not been for your feeling, after you had, as you believed, killed me, you never would have stood and let that Sepoy shoot you; so that all the pain that you have been going through, and may still have to go through before you are quite cured, is a punishment that you have yourself accepted. After a man has once been punished for a crime there is an end of it, and you need grieve no further over it; but it will be a lesson that I hope and believe you will never forget. "Hackett, who has been my soldier servant for the last five years, was killed in the fight in the Kaiser Bagh. If you like, when you rejoin, I shall apply for you in his stead. It will make your work a good deal easier for you, and I should like to have the son of one of my old tenants about me." The man burst into tears. "There, don't let's say anything more about it," Mallett went on, taking the thin hand of the soldier in his. "We will consider it settled, and I shall look out for you in a couple of months, so get well as quick as you can, and don't worry yourself by thinking of the past. I must be off now, for I have to take down a party of convalescents to rejoin this evening. "Goodbye, lad," and without waiting for any reply, he turned and left the marquee. Chapter 5. "It is little more than two years and a half since I left, Lechmere, but it seems almost a lifetime." "It does seem a time, Major. We must have marched thousands of miles, and I could not say how many times we have been engaged. There has not been a week that we have not had a fight, and sometimes two or three of them." "Well, thank God, we are back again. Still I am glad to have been through it." "So am I, sir. It will be something to look back on, and it is curious to think that while we have been seeing and doing so much, father and my brother Bob have just been going about over the farm, and seeing to the cattle, and looking after the animals day in and day out, without ever going away save to market two or three times a month at Chippenham." "And you have quite made up your mind to stay with me, Lechmere?" "Quite, sir. Short of your turning me out, there is nothing that would get me away from you. No one could be happier than I have been, ever since I rejoined after that wound. It has not been like master and servant, sir. You have just treated me as if you had been the squire and I had been your tenant's son, and that nothing had ever come between us. You have made a man of me again, and I only wish that I had more opportunities of showing you how I feel it." "You have had opportunities enough, and you have made the most of them. You were by my side when I entered that house where there were a score of desperate rebels, and it would have gone hard with us if aid had not come up. You stood over me when I was knocked down by that charge of rebel cavalry, and got half a dozen wounds before the Hussars swept down and drove them back." "I was well paid for that, sir," the man said with a smile. "Yes, you got the Victoria Cross, and no man ever won it more fairly. But, after all, it was not so much by such things as these that you showed your feelings, Lechmere, as by your constant and faithful service, and by the care with which you looked after me. Still, as I told you before, I don't like standing in your way. In the natural course of things you would have had your father's farm, and there is now no reason why you should not go back there." "No, sir. Since we heard that that poor girl came back home and died, there is no reason why I should not go back to the old place, but I don't like to. Two years of such a life as we have been leading does not fit one for farm work. Brother Bob stopped and took my place while I went soldiering, and even if I were willing to go back to it, which I am not, it would not be fair to him for me to step in just as if nothing had happened. But, anyhow, I shall be glad to be back again at the old place and see them all. Father and mother will know now that they suspected me wrongly. But they were not to blame. Mad as I was then, I might have done it if I had had the chance." "Well, Lechmere, you know well that I shall be always glad to have you with me as long as you are willing to stay. Perhaps the time will come when you may wish to make a home for yourself, and you may be sure that the first farm on the estate that falls vacant shall be yours, or, as that does not very often happen, I will see that you get a good one somewhere in the neighbourhood." The man shook his head, and without answering went on unpacking his master's portmanteau. They were at the Hummums Hotel, in Covent Garden, and had arrived half an hour before by the evening train, having come overland from Marseilles. Two years' soldiering had greatly altered George Lechmere. He had lost the heavy step caused by tramping over ploughed fields, and was a well set-up, alert and smart-looking soldier; and although now in civilian clothes--for his master had bought him out of the service when he sent in his own papers--no one could avoid seeing that he had served, for in addition to the military carriage there was the evidence of two deep scars on his face, the handiwork of the mutineers' sabres on the day when he had stood over his master surrounded by rebel horse. His complexion was deeply bronzed by the sun, and there was that steady but watchful expression in his eyes that is characteristic of men who have gone through long and dangerous service. "I shall stay two or three days in town," Major Mallett said. "I must get an entire refit before I go down. You had better come round with me to the tailor's tomorrow, the first thing after breakfast. You will want three or four suits, too." "Yes, sir. And besides, they would like to know down there when you are coming home. They are sure to want to give you a welcome." "And you, too, Lechmere. I am sure that all your old friends will give you as hearty a welcome as they will give me. Indeed, it ought to be a good deal heartier, for you have been living among them all your life, while I have been away for the most part ever since I was a boy." Four days later they went down to Chippenham. Mr. Norton, the steward, was on the platform when the train came in. "Welcome home again, sir," he said warmly, as Frank stepped from the carriage. "We were all glad, indeed, when we heard that you were back safe, and were coming down among us." "I am glad enough to be back again, Norton," Frank Mallett said; as he shook the man's hand. "We had warm work of it for a bit, but at the end, when the excitement was over, one got pretty tired of it. "This is George Lechmere, Norton," the Major said, as he went along with the agent to where George was standing with the pile of luggage. "You have heard how gallantly he behaved, and how he saved my life at the risk of his own." "How are you, George?" the agent said, as he shook hands with him. "I should hardly have known you. Indeed, I am sure I should not have done so if I had met you in the street. You seem to have grown taller and altogether different." "I have lost flesh a bit, Mr. Norton, and I have learnt to stand upright, and I shall be some time before I get rid of this paint the sun has given me." "Yes, you are as brown as a berry, George. We saw in the gazette about your getting the Victoria Cross in saving the squire's life. I can tell you every man on the estate felt proud of you. "Are you ready to be off, sir?" "Yes. I suppose you have got the dog cart outside, as I asked you?" "Well, no, sir," the agent said, in a tone of some embarrassment. "You see the tenants had made up their minds that you ought to come in a different sort of style, and so without asking me about it they ordered an open carriage to be here to meet you. I knew nothing about it until last night. The dog cart is here and will take up your luggage." "Well, I suppose it cannot be helped," Mallett laughed. "Of course, they meant it kindly." "I will see the luggage got in the dog cart, and come over with it," Lechmere said. "You can see it into the dog cart, George, but you must come with me. I have got to put up with it, and you must, too." He stood chatting with Mr. Norton on the platform till George returned, and said that the luggage was all packed, and that the dog cart had gone on ahead. There was an amused look on his face, which was explained when, on going out, Mallett found an open carriage with four horses, with postilions in new purple silk jackets and orange caps, and large rosettes of the same colour at the horses' heads. "Bless me," said the Major, in a tone of dismay. "I shall feel as if I were a candidate for the county." "They are the family colours, you see, sir." "Yes, I know, Norton, and the Conservative colours, too. Well, it cannot be helped, and it does not make much difference after all. "There will be no fuss when I get there I hope, Norton," he went on, as he took his place, and Lechmere climbed up into the seat behind. "Well, sir," the agent said, apologetically, "there is an arch or two. You see, the tenants wanted to do the thing properly, and the school children will be on the lawn, and there are going to be some bonfires in the evening, and they have got a big box of fireworks down from London. Why, sir, it would be strange if they did not give you a welcome after going through all that, and being wounded three times and getting so much credit. Why, it wouldn't be English, sir." "I suppose it's all right," Mallett said, resignedly; "and, indeed, Norton, one cannot help being pleased at seeing one's tenants glad to have one home again." In half-an-hour's drive they arrived at the boundary of the estate. Here an arch had been erected, and a score of the tenants and tenants' sons, assembled on horseback, gave a loud cheer as the carriage drove up, and as it died away one shouted: "Why, that is George Lechmere behind. Give him a cheer, too!" and again a hearty shout went up. The carriage stopped, and Major Mallett said a few words, thanking them heartily for the welcome they had given him, and assuring them what pleasure it was to him to be back again. "I thank you, also," he concluded, "for the cheer that you have given to my faithful comrade and friend, George Lechmere. As you all know, he saved my life at the risk of his own, and has received the greatest honour a soldier can gain--the Victoria Cross. You have a good right to be proud of him, as one of yourselves, and to give him a hearty welcome." The carriage then drove on again, the farmers riding close behind as an escort. At the entrance of the drive up to the house another and larger arch had been erected. Here the rest of the tenants and the women were collected, and there was another hearty greeting, and another speech from Mallett. Then they drove up to the house, where a number of the gentry had assembled to welcome him. After shaking hands and chatting with these for a short time, Frank went round among the tenants, saying a few words to each. When he had done this he invited them all to a dinner on the lawn that day week, and then went into the house, where the steward had prepared a meal. Among the familiar faces, Frank missed those he would most gladly have seen. He had a year before received a letter from Lady Greendale, telling him of Sir John's sudden death, and had learned from the steward during the drive that she and her daughter were in London. "They went there a month ago," he said. "A year had passed after Sir John's death, and people say that it is not likely that they will be much at home again for some time. Lady Greendale has high connections in London, as you know, sir." "Yes, she was a daughter of Lord Huntinglen, Norton." "Yes, sir. They always went up to town for the season; and they say Lady Greendale liked London better than the country; and now that Miss Bertha is out--for she was presented at Court a fortnight ago--people think they won't be much down at Greendale for the present." "Has Miss Greendale grown up pretty? I thought she would, but, of course, when I went away she was only a girl, not fully developed." "She is a beautiful young lady, sir. Everyone says she is quite the belle of the county. Folks reckon she will make a great match. She is very well liked, too; pleasant and nice without a bit of pride about her, and very high spirited; and, I should say, full of fun, though of course the place has been pretty well shut up for the last year. For four months after Sir John's death they went away travelling, and were only at home for a few weeks before they went up to London the other day, in time for the first Drawing Room." "I suppose we shall not see much of you for a time, Mallett?" one of his friends said, as they sat at luncheon. "No, I don't suppose I shall be able to settle down for a bit. After the life I have led, I am afraid that I shall find the time hang heavily on my hands, alone here." "You must bring home a wife, Major Mallett," one of the ladies said. "That is looking quite into the dim future, Mrs. Herbert," he laughed. "You see, since I first went on active service I have been removed altogether from feminine attractions. Of course I have been thinking it over, but for the present my inclination turns towards yachting. I have always been fond of the water, and had a strong wish to go to sea when I was a boy, but that aspiration was not encouraged. However, I can follow my bent now. Norton has been piling up money for me in my absence, and I can afford myself the luxury of a big yacht. Of course I shall be in no hurry about it. I shall either build or buy a biggish craft, for racing in summer, and cruising in winter." "That means that you won't be here at all, Major Mallett." "Oh, no, it does not mean that, I can assure you. I shall run down for a month three or four times a year; say for shooting in September or October, and for hunting a month or two later on; besides, I have to renew my acquaintance with my tenants and see that everything is going on comfortably. I expect that I shall spend four or five months every year on the estate." "Till you settle down for good?" "Yes, till I settle down for good," he laughed. "I suppose it will have to be someday." "Then you don't think of passing much time in London, Mallett?" "No, indeed. Fortunately my father sold his town house three years ago. He did not care about going up, and of course it was of no use to me. I have never had any opportunities for society, and my present idea is that it would bore me horribly. But I'll dare say that I shall be there for a month or so in the season. "Of course, there is my club to go to, and plenty of men one knows; but even if I had a longing for society, I know no one in what are termed fashionable circles, and so should be outside what is called the world." "Oh, you would soon get over that, Major Mallett. Why, Lady Greendale would introduce you everywhere." "It is not likely I shall trouble her to do that," Mallett answered. Frank had told George Lechmere that, as soon as they arrived, he would be at liberty to go off at once to his father and mother. "Stay as long as you like," he said. "I shall get on very well without you for a few days." "I shall come up again tonight, sir, and get your things brushed and your bath ready in the morning. I should not be comfortable if I did not do that. Then after breakfast, if you do not want me, I can go to the farm for a few hours. Of course I shall have lots to tell the old people about India. But for that I don't know what I should do to pass the time away, with no work on hand." "Oh, you will have your old friends to look up, George. After being over two years on service, you have a right to a month's leave. As you have got your six months' batta in hand, besides your savings, you have enough cash to go on with; but when you want money, you know that you have only to speak to me." "I have a good bit, sir. I have scarcely spent a penny since I joined, and in the two years have laid by a nice little sum. Besides, we all picked up a bit. Most of those native chiefs and their followers had money or jewels about them, and all of us got something; some good prizes. So one way or another I have made as much or more in the two years' soldiering as I should have done in two years' farming; but if I had not above a few shillings in my pocket, I should do well here, for I have no occasion to spend any money with all my friends wanting me to go round to see them and tell them of our doings." "Found everything going on satisfactorily at home, George?" "Yes, sir, all well. Bob has turned out a great help to my father. I was sure he would do well when he got the chance. Of course, so long as I was there he had not much responsibility, but I could see then that he would make a good farmer. Things have been going on just as well as when I was at home." "Are you going over there now?" "Not until after breakfast, sir, anyhow. I told them that I might look in some time in the morning, but that I could not say whether you might want me for anything." "No, I shan't want you at all, George. I told you so yesterday. However, after breakfast I will walk over to the farm with you. I only had time for a word with your father yesterday, but I told him that I would come over to see them sometime today." Accordingly, after an hour's talk with his agent, Frank Mallett walked over to the farm with George. The latter's father and mother were both in the house, an unusual thing at that time of day with the former, but he had said at breakfast to his son: "You must look after things by yourself today, lad. The Squire said yesterday that he would come over sometime, and I would not be out when he came, not for a twenty pound note." He and his wife came to the door when they saw Frank coming across the field towards the house. "Well, Lechmere," the latter said, when he came up. "I am glad to see you and your dame looking so well and hearty. I had not time to say more than a word to you yesterday, and I wanted to have a comfortable talk with you both. I wrote you a line telling you how gallantly George had behaved, and how he had saved my life; but I had to write the day afterwards, and my head was still ringing from the sabre cut that had for a time knocked all the sense out of me, and therefore I had to cut it very short. How gallantly he defended my life against a dozen of the enemy's cavalry was shown by the fact that he received the Victoria Cross, and I can tell you that such an immense number of brave deeds were performed during the Mutiny that George's must be considered an extraordinary act of bravery to have obtained for him that honour." By this time they had entered the farmhouse parlour. George had not followed them in, but on inquiring where he was likely to find Bob, had gone off to join him. "I was proud to hear it at the time, Squire; and when it was in the papers that our George had got the Victoria Cross, and all our neighbours came in to congratulate us, we felt prouder still. Up to the time when we got your letter, we did not know for sure where he was. He had said he meant to enlist, and from the humour that he was in when he went away we guessed it to be in some regiment where he could get to the wars. We felt the more glad, as you may guess, from the fact that both the Missus and I had wronged him in our thoughts. We learnt that before we got the news, and it was not until we knew that we had been wrong that either of us opened our lips about it, though each of us knew what the other thought." "I know what you mean, Lechmere. He told me all about it." "Well, Squire, you may be sure, when we knew that we had wronged him, how the wife and I fretted that we did not know where to write to, nor how to set about finding out where he was, and so you can guess how pleased we were when we heard from you that he was with your regiment, and that he had saved your life at the risk of his own. "We did not know then, Squire, that if he had had twenty lives he would have done right to have risked them all for you. He told us the whole story yesterday--just to mother, me and Bob. I can't tell you yet, Squire, what we thought of it. I do not know that I shall ever be able to tell you, and we shall never cease to thank the good Lord for saving George from being a murderer in his madness--a murderer of our own Squire--and to bless you, Major, that you should not only have forgiven him and kept his crime from everyone, but should have taken him in hand, as he says, as if it had never happened." "There was no occasion for him to have said anything about it, Lechmere. He was undoubtedly more or less mad at the time. Upon the whole, I think that the affair has made him a better man. Up to the time when he saved my life, he did his duty as a soldier well, and was a most devoted servant to me, but the weight of this business pressed heavily upon him, and in spite of all I could say he held himself aloof as much as possible from his comrades; but after that he changed altogether. He felt, as he told me, that God would not have given him this opportunity of saving the life that he had so nearly taken had He not forgiven him, and his spirits rose, and while before he certainly was not popular among his comrades--a reserved man never is--he became a general favourite. "The officers, of course, showed a good deal of interest in him after what he had done. He could have been a sergeant in the course of a month, but he refused corporal's stripes when they were offered to him on the day after the battle, saying that he preferred remaining with me, though the Colonel told him that, after what he had done, he would stand a good chance of promotion, after two or three years' service, as a sergeant. He told me that he knew his jealous disposition had been a sort of trouble to you; but I am sure that he will never worry you in that way again. I believe that he is now thoroughly master of himself, and that even the man who wrought that foul wrong need not fear him." "You heard, sir, that the poor girl came home and died?" "Yes. He told me when he heard the news from you." "She never said who did it, sir, but from other things that came out there is no doubt who it was." "He told me, Lechmere, but I stopped him short. I did not wish to know. I had my suspicions, but I did not want to have them confirmed. The fellow I suspect is no friend of mine, and I don't want to know anything about him. If I were certain of it, I could not meet him without telling him my opinion of him." "You are not likely to meet him here, Squire. A year ago he happened to be over at Chippenham one market day. There were a dozen of us there, and I can tell you we gave him such a reception that he mounted his horse and rode straight on again. If he hadn't, I believe that we should have horsewhipped him through the town. Three months afterwards his estate was put up for sale, and he has never been down in this part of the country since; not that he was ever here much before. London suited him better. You see, his mother was, as I have heard, the daughter of a banker, and an only child; and even if he hadn't had the estate he would have been a rich man. Anyhow, I am heartily glad that he has left the county." "I, too, am glad that he has gone, Lechmere. I have not met him for years, but if we had both been down here we must have run against each other sometimes, and after some matters that had passed between us years ago we could scarcely have met on friendly terms. However, as there is nothing beyond mere suspicion against him, he may in this case be innocent. You see, I was suspected unjustly myself, and the same thing may be the case with him." "That is so, Squire; though I don't think that there is any mistake this time. In fact, I believe she told her mother, though she kept it from her father for fear he would break the law. At any rate, it is a good thing he has gone; for he was a hard landlord, and there was not a good word for him among his tenants." "That makes the probability of a mistake all the more likely," Frank said. "If I, who as a landlord, as far as I know, have given no grounds for dislike to my tenants, was suspected unjustly; this would be still more likely to be the case with one who was generally unpopular. "And now, how has the farm been going on since I was away?" "Just about as usual, Squire. Bob is not such a good judge of horses and cattle as George was, but in other respects I think he knows more. George did not care for reading, and Bob is always at the papers and getting up the last things these scientific chaps have found out; so matters are pretty well squared. Altogether, I have no call to grumble, and I ain't likely, Squire, to have to ask for time on rent day. We were worried sorely about George as long as that matter hung over him; but since that was cleared up, and we heard of his having saved your life, we have been happy again. We got a big shock yesterday, however, when we heard what had happened out there." "Well, that is all past and over long ago, and we have none of us any cause to regret it. It has done George a great deal of good, and as for me, I might not be here now talking to you if it had not taken place, for it was the memory of that which led George to the desperate action which saved my life. Besides, you see, it has gained for me an attached and faithful friend, for it is as a friend rather than as a servant that I regard your son." "He will always be that, I am sure, Squire. He told us that you had offered to set him up on a farm, but he is quite right to say no. I don't say that if it had been with somebody else, his mother and I might not have felt rather sore that our eldest boy should have taken to service; but, of course, it is different with you, Squire. It is only natural that a Lechmere should serve a Mallett, seeing that our fathers have been your fathers' tenants for hundreds of years, so that even if all this had not happened we should not have minded. As it is, we are proud that he is with you; and it seems natural that, after wandering about the world and fighting with those black villains out there, he should never be content to go on as he was before, or to settle down to farming." "It is like man like master, in this case," Mallett laughed. "After I have once been over the estate, and seen all the tenants, and learned that everyone is satisfied and everything going on well, I shall very soon begin to feel restless, and shall be running off somewhere. You see, I have never been broken in to a country life. I have no idea of becoming an absentee; but I think a month or two together will be as much as I can stand, at any rate as long as I am a bachelor." "That is just what I was saying, Squire," the farmer's wife said, speaking for the first time--for during the first portion of the conversation she had been crying quietly, and had since been busying herself in placing decanters and glasses and a huge homemade cake on the table. "We all hope that you will soon bring a mistress home. I said only this morning that you would never be settling down until you did. "And now, will you take a glass of wine and a slice of cake, Squire?" "Thank you, Mrs. Lechmere, I will; especially a piece of your cake. Many and many a slice of it have I had here when a boy, and famously good it always was." Major Mallett ate two big slices of cake, drank a glass of wine, and refusing the offer of a second glass, got up to go, saying: "No, Mrs. Lechmere; I must not treat myself to another glass now. I am going round to four or five other houses before I return to lunch, and I know that the tray will be put on the table everywhere. I can say that I have eaten so much cake here that I cannot eat more. But I know I shall have to drink a glass of wine at each place, and I can assure you that I am not accustomed to tipple in the morning. "Ah, here come your two sons across the fields. I will meet them at the gate. If I were to begin a regular talk with Bob today, the morning would be gone." "George has changed wonderfully," Mrs. Lechmere said, as they accompanied him to the gate. "It ain't his face so much, though he is well nigh as brown as that cake, but it is his figure. I should not have known him if he had not come along with Bob. He walks altogether different." "It is the drilling, Mrs. Lechmere. Yes, it is wonderful how much drill does for a man; and there is a good deal in the cut of the clothes. You see, there is not much difference in the material, but George's were made at a good tailor's in London, and I suppose Bob's were made down here." Mallett stayed for a few minutes chatting at the gate with Bob, and then, saying that he would certainly come in again before he went up to town, started on a round of calls. Chapter 6. "And so you have bought a yacht, Major Mallett?" "Yes; at least she is scarcely a yacht yet. I was going to have one built, but I heard of one that had been ordered by Lord Haverstock, who, they say, has been so hard hit at the Derby that he had to tell Wanhill, the builder, that he could not take her. As the season was getting rather late, the man was glad to sell her a bargain, especially as he had already got a thousand pounds towards her; so I got her for twelve hundred less that Haverstock was to have paid. It suited me admirably, for he has engaged to finish her in six weeks. She is just about the size I wanted, 120 tons, and looks as if she would turn out fast, and a good sea boat. Of course, I shall race a bit with her next year, though I have bought her more for cruising. "I hope that you and Lady Greendale will favour me with your company, on her first cruise after the season ends. I know it is of no use asking before that." "I should like it immensely, Major Mallett. It would be delightful. How many can you carry?" "Eight comfortably. The ladies' cabin has four berths, but will be only really comfortable for three; and there are four other state cabins--that is, three besides my own, but one of them has two berths. Of course, I could put up three or four others in the saloon for a couple of days, but for a cruise of three weeks or a month it would be too many for comfort. We could not seat that number at table without crowding, and I doubt whether the cooking arrangements would be altogether satisfactory. "Of course, we shall want two more ladies. I will leave the selection of those to you and Lady Greendale, for, except yourselves, I know no ladies; though, of course, I could get plenty of men." "That will be delightful," Bertha said; "but I dare say that by the time the season is over you will know plenty of ladies that you can ask. You see, you have met so many people here now that, as you have just been grumbling discontentedly, you are out nearly every night." "Yes," he laughed. "At present, you see, I am regarded rather as an Indian lion; but I shall bid goodbye to London as soon as the yacht is afloat." "What is her name to be?" "I have not given it a thought, yet. I only bought her two days ago. It seems to me that it is almost as hard to fix on a name for a yacht as for a race horse." "Oh! there are so many pretty names that would do for a yacht." "Yes; but you would be surprised if you knew how many yachts there are of every likely name." "It ought to be a water bird," the girl said. "Those are just the names that are most taken." "Yes; but there are lots of sea birds and water birds, only I cannot think of them." "Well, you look them out," he laughed. "Here is a Hunt's Yachting List that I bought on my way here. I will leave it with you, and any name that you fix on she shall have. Only, please choose one that only two or three boats, and those not about the same size, have got. It leads to confusion if there are two craft going about of the same name and of about the same size. But I warn you, that it will involve your having to go down to Poole to christen her." "Do they christen yachts, Major Mallett?" "I really don't know anything about it," he replied; "but if it is right and proper for ships it must be for yachts; and I should regard the ceremony as being likely to bring good luck to her. When the time comes, I will fix the day to suit your arrangements." "I will try to come down, Major Mallett, if mamma will agree; but it is a long way to Poole, and somehow one never seems to find an hour to do anything; so I really cannot promise." "Well, if you cannot manage it, Miss Greendale, I will have her launched without being named and bring her round to Southampton, and then you could go down and christen her there. That would only be a short railway run of a couple of hours after breakfast, and, say, two hours for luncheon there, and to have a look at her, and you could be home by four o'clock in the afternoon." "That seems more practicable." Captain Mallett had been three weeks in town. He had called upon Lady Greendale on the day after he had come up, and been received with the greatest cordiality by her and Bertha. The latter, in the two years and a half that he had been away, had grown from a somewhat gawky girl, whose charm lay solely in her expressive eyes and pleasant smile, into a very pretty woman. She was slightly over middle height, and carried herself exceptionally well. Her face was a bright and sunny one, but her eyes were unchanged, and there was an earnestness in their expression which, with a certain resolute curve in the lips, gave character to the laughing brightness of her face. Society had received her warmly, and consequently she was pleased with society. Both for her own sake and as an heiress she was made a deal of, and, though she had been but two months in town, she had already taken her place as one of the recognised belles of the season. Lady Greendale had a dinner party on the day when Major Mallett called, and was discussing with Bertha whom they could invite to fill up at such short notice a vacancy which had occurred. "You come at the right moment, Frank," she said, after they had chatted for some time. "We were lamenting just now that we had received this morning a note from a gentleman who was coming to dine with us today, saying that he could not come; but now I regard it as most fortunate, for of course we want you to come to us at once. I suppose you have not made any engagements yet. We shall be sixteen with you, and I think they are all nice people." "I shall be very happy to come," he said. "I have certainly no engagements. I looked in at the club last night. It was my first appearance there, for my name only came up for election four months ago, and I should have felt very uncomfortable if I had not happened to meet two or three old friends. One of them asked me to dinner for tomorrow. For today I am altogether free." In the course of the evening Major Mallett received three or four invitations to dances and balls, and, being thus started in society, was soon out every evening. For the first week he enjoyed the novelty of the scene, but very speedily tired of it. At dinners the ladies he took down always wanted him to talk about India; but even this was, in his opinion, preferable to the crush and heat of the dances. "How men can go on with such a life as this," he said to a friend at the club, "beats me altogether, Colonel. Two or three times in the year one might like to go out to these crowded balls, just to see the dresses and the girls, but to go out night after night is to my mind worse than hunting the rebels through the jungle. It is just as hot and not a hundredth part so exciting. I have only had three weeks of it, and I am positively sick of it already." "Then why on earth do you accept, Mallett? I took good care not to get into it. What can a man want better than this? A well-cooked dinner, eaten with a chum, and then a quiet rubber; and perhaps once a fortnight or so I go out to a dinner party, which I like well enough as a change. I always get plenty of shooting in winter, and am generally away for three months, but I am always heartily glad to get back again." "I am afraid I should get as tired of the club as I am of society, Colonel." "You have plenty of time, lad. I am twenty years your senior. Well, there is plenty before you besides society and club life. Of course, you will marry and settle down, and become a county magistrate and all that sort of thing. Thank goodness, what money came to me came in the shape of consols, and not in that of land. A country life would be exile to me; but, you see, you have left the army much younger than I did. I suppose you are not thirty yet? The Crimea and India ran you fast up the tree." "No, I am only twenty-eight. You know I was only a brevet Major, and had two more steps to get before I had a regimental majority." "That makes all the difference, Mallett; and it is absurd, a young fellow of your age crying out against society." "I don't cry out against it," Mallett laughed. "I simply say that it is out of my line, and I have never been broken into it. I was talking of buying a yacht, or rather of building one." "What size do you want? I know of one to be had cheap, if you are thinking of a good big craft." And thus it was that Mallett came to hear of the yawl at Poole. "I have fixed on the Osprey, Major Mallett," Bertha Greendale said, when he took her down to dinner two days after he had last seen her. "What do you say to that? There are two or three yachts of the same name, but none of them is over thirty tons." "I think the Osprey is a pretty name, Miss Greendale. I should have accepted the Crocodile if you had suggested it. The name that you have chosen will suit admirably; so henceforth she shall be the Osprey, pending your formally christening her by that name. I might, of course, be hypercritical and point out that, although a fishing eagle, the Osprey can scarcely be called a water bird, inasmuch that it is no swimmer." "But it is hypercritical even to suggest such a thing," she said, pouting. "The Osprey has to do with the sea. It is strong and swift on the wing, and the sails of the yacht are wings, are they not? Then it is strong and bold, and I am sure your boat will not be afraid to meet a storm. Altogether, I think it is an excellent name." "I think it a very good name, too." "You ought to have one for your figurehead." "Yachts don't have figureheads, else I would certainly have it. At any rate, I will choose an eagle for my racing flag." "I have never been on board a yacht yet," the girl said. "I think I only know one man who has one, at least a large one; that is Mr. Carthew. Of course you know him; he had a new one this spring--the Phantom. He has won several times this season." "I saw he had," Frank said, quietly. "Yes, I used to know him, but it's seven or eight years since we met." "And you don't like him," she said, quickly. "What makes you think that, Miss Greendale?" "Oh, I can tell by the tone of your voice." "I don't think it expressed anything but indifference, as it is such a long time since I met him. But I never fancied him much. I suppose we were not the same sort of men; and then, too, perhaps I am rather prejudiced from the fact that I know that he was considered rather a hard landlord." "I never heard that," she said. "No, I dare say you would not hear it, but I fancy it was so. However, he sold his estate, at least so I heard." "Yes, he told me that he did not care for country life. I have seen him several times since we came up to town. He keeps race horses, you know. His horse was second in the Derby this spring. That takes him a good deal away, else one would meet him more often, for he knows a great many people we do." "Yes, I know that he races, and is, I believe, rather lucky on the turf." "You have no inclination that way, Major Mallett?" "Not a shadow," he said, earnestly. "It is the very last vice I should take to. I have seen many cases, in the service, of young fellows being ruined by betting on the turf. We had one case in my own regiment, in which a man was saved by the skin of his teeth. Happily he had strength of mind and manliness enough to cut it altogether, and is a very promising young officer now, but it was only the fact of our embarking when we did for India that saved him from ruin. "The man who bets more than he can afford to lose is simply a gambler, whether he does so on racehorses or on cards. I have seen enough of it to hate gambling with all my heart. It has driven more men out of the service than drink has, and the one passion is almost as incurable as the other." Bertha laughed. "I think that is the first time I have ever heard you express any very strong opinion, Major Mallett. It is quite refreshing to listen to a thorough-going denunciation of anything here in London. In the country, of course, it is different. All sorts of things are heartily abused there; especially, perhaps, the weather, free trade, poaching, and people in whose covers foxes are scarce. But here, in London, no one seems to care much about anything." "People in your set have no time to do so." "That is very unkind. They think about amusement." "They may think about it, but it is all in a very languid fashion. Now, in a country town, when there is a ball or a dance in the neighbourhood, it is quite an excitement; and, at any rate, everyone enters into it heartily. People evidently enjoy the dancing for dancing's sake, and they all look as if they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Whereas here, people dance as if it was rather a painful duty than otherwise, and there is a general expression of a longing for the whole thing to be over." "I enjoy the dancing," Bertha said, sturdily. "At least, when I get a really good partner." "Yes, but then you have only been three months at it. You have not got broken into the business yet." "Nor have you, Major Mallett." "No, but while you are an actor in the piece, I am but a spectator, and lookers-on, you know, see most of the game." "What nonsense! Don't pretend you are getting to be a blase man. I know that you are only about ten years older than I am--not more than nine, I think--and you dance very well, and no doubt you know it." "I like dancing, I can assure you, where there is room to dance; but I don't call it dancing when you have an area of only a foot square to dance in, and are hustled and bumped more than you would be in a crowded Lord Mayor's show. My training has not suited me for it, and I would rather stand and look on, listen to scraps of conversation, watch the faces of the dancers and of those standing round. It is a study, and I think it shows one of the worst sides of nature. It is quite shocking to see and hear the envy, uncharitableness, the boredom, and the desperate efforts to look cheerful under difficulties, especially among the girls that do not get partners." "For shame! I am disappointed in you," Bertha said, half in jest, half in earnest. "You are not at all the person I thought you were. Whatever I may have fancied about you, I never imagined you a cynic or a grumbler." "I suppose it brings out the worst side of my nature, too," he laughed. "When you come down on board the Osprey, Miss Greendale, you will see the other side. I fancy one falls into the tone of one's surroundings. Here I have caught the tone of the bored man of society, there you will see that I shall be a breezy sailor--cheerful in storm or in calm, ready to take my glass and to toast my lass and all the rest of it in true nautical fashion." "I hope so," she said, gravely. "I shall certainly need something of the sort to correct the very unfavourable impression you have just been giving me. Now let us change the subject. You have not told me yet whether you had any flirtations in India." "Flirtations!" he repeated. "For once, the small section of womankind that I encountered were above and beyond flirtations. "I don't think," he went on seriously, "that you in England can quite realise what it was, or that a woman in London society can imagine that there can exist a state of things in which dress and appearance are matters which have altogether ceased to engross the female mind. The white women I saw there were worn and haggard. No matter what their age, they bore on their faces the impress of terrible hardship, terrible danger, and terrible grief and anxiety. Few but had lost someone dear to them, many all whom they cared for. A few had made some pitiful attempt at neatness, but most had lost all thought of self, all care whatever for personal appearance. There was an anxious look in their eyes that was painful to witness." "I spoke without thinking," the girl said, gravely. "It must have been awful--awful, as you say. It is impossible for us really to imagine quite what it was, or to picture up such scenes as you must have witnessed. I can understand that all this must seem frivolous and contemptible to you." "No, I don't go so far as that," he smiled. "It is good that there should be butterflies as well as bees; and, at any rate, the women of India, who had the reputation of being as frivolous and pleasure-loving as the rest of their sex, came out nobly and showed a degree of patience under suffering and of heroic courage unsurpassable in history. "I am afraid," he said, as the hostess gave the signal for the ladies to rise, "you will long look back upon this dinner as one of unprecedented dullness." "Not dullness," she smiled. "Exceptional certainly, but as something so different from the usual thing, when one talks of nothing but the opera, the theatres and exhibitions, as to deserve to be put down in one's diary by a mark. I won't flatter you by telling you whether a red or a black one." "Who are the party going to be, Mallett?" his friend Colonel Severn said, as they stood together on the deck of the Osprey early in August. "You guaranteed that it would be a pleasant one when you persuaded me to leave London, for the first time since I retired, before shooting began." "Well, to begin with, there is Lady Greendale, an eminently pleasant woman. She comes as general chaperon, and I shall consider her under your especial care. You will not find it hard work, for she is an eminently sympathetic woman, ready to chat if you are disposed to talk, to interest herself in other ways if you are not. She has plenty of common sense, is tolerant of tobacco, and a thorough woman of the world, though her headquarters have for years been in the country. With her is her daughter." "Well, what about her? I have heard of her as having made quite a sensation this season, and between ourselves I had some idea that this party was specially planned on her account." "To some extent perhaps it was," Frank Mallett laughed. "Bertha Greendale is an old chum of mine. I knew her in very short frocks, for they were near neighbours of ours in the country; and her father, Sir John, was always one of my kindest friends. She was a slip of a girl when I went out to India, and though I thought that she would turn out pretty, I certainly did not expect she would be anything like as good looking as she is. She was always a nice girl, and success so far has not spoiled her. "Then there is a Miss Sinclair, a great friend of Bertha's; and Jack Hawley of the Guards. I knew him out in the Crimea. The other two are Wilson, who is a clever young barrister, and a particularly pleasant fellow; and his wife, who is a sister of Miss Sinclair; so I think there are the elements of a pleasant party. All the ladies are broken into smoke, for Sir John smoked, and so does Wilson; so that you won't be expected to go forward, as they do on the P and O, whenever you want to enjoy your favourite pipe." "That is a comfort, anyhow, Mallett. If there is one thing in the world I hate, it is having to go and hunt about for some place to smoke in; and I never accept an invitation to any shooting party unless I know beforehand that smoking is allowed. At what time do you expect the others?" "They will be down at half-past twelve; they are all coming by the same train, and it was because I knew that you would want to be in a smoking carriage that I told you to come down by the earlier one. And, besides, I thought it well to get you here first. You are the only stranger, as it were. The others are all intimate with each other, and it was as well to post you as to their various relationships." "One thing, Mallett. I hope Lady Greendale is not in any way a marrying woman. I am not like Mr. Pickwick, afraid of widows, and have perfect confidence in my power to resist temptation; but at the same time it makes all the difference in the world to one's comfort. I am not ass enough to suppose that Lady Greendale would even dream for a moment of setting her cap at a Colonel on half pay, but if a woman is in the marrying line she always expects a certain amount of what you may call delicate attention. It is her daily bread, for she considers that unless every man she comes across evinces a certain amount of admiration, it is a sign that her charms are on the wane, and her chances growing more and more remote." Mallett laughed. "You can set your mind at ease, for nothing is further from the thoughts of Lady Greendale than re-marriage. She was very happy with her husband." "The more reason for her marrying again," the Colonel said. "A woman who has been happy with her husband is apt to get the idea into her head that every man will make a good husband; and a confoundedly mistaken idea it is. She is much more likely to marry again than the woman who has had a hard time of it." "Well, you may be right there, Colonel, but putting aside my conviction that Lady Greendale has no idea of marrying again, is the fact that at present all her thoughts are occupied by her daughter. She is not at all what you would call a managing mother, but I am sure that she has set her heart on Bertha's making a good match, and that the fear that she will succumb to some penniless younger son or other unsuitable partner is at present the dominant feeling in her mind. I don't think she would have agreed to Jack Hawley being of the party, had not Bertha entertained a conviction that he was rather gone on Miss Sinclair, who by the way has, like her sister, money enough to disregard the fact that Jack is hardly in that respect well endowed. "However, it is time for me to be off; I see the skipper is getting the gig lowered. I suppose you will be content to sit here and smoke your pipe until we come back; and, indeed, seven is as many as the gig will carry with any degree of comfort. The cutter will go ashore to fetch off the luggage, which will probably be of somewhat portentous dimensions." Two minutes later Mallett took his place in the gig, and was rowed to the shore. He was delighted, with his new purchase. She was an excellent sea boat, and, as he had learned from a short spin with another craft, decidedly fast. He had not, however, entered her for any race. "There is no hurry," he said to his skipper, when the latter suggested that they should try her at Cowes. "I should like to win my first race, and in the first place we don't know that she is in her best trim. In the next place we must get the crew accustomed to each other and to the craft. I bought her as a cruiser rather than a racer, and don't want to have her full of men, as are most of the racers. It is a heavy expense, and fewer hands accustomed to work well together do just as much work, and more smartly than a crowd. We found, when we sailed round the islands with the Royal Victoria race, that, considering we went under reduced canvas, we held our own very fairly; and I have no doubt that when we get all our light canvas up, the Osprey will give a good account of herself. Our gear is scarcely stretched yet. "No; I will wait until next season, and then we will make a bold bid for a Queen's Cup." Frank Mallett reached the platform at Southampton a few minutes before the train came in. The party were on the lookout for him, and alighted in the highest spirits. "Now, ladies," he said, "the first thing is to point out the luggage. My man here will get it all together, and stand guard over it till two others arrive to get it on board. They will be here in a few minutes. In fact, they ought to be here now." He looked on with something like dismay while the boxes were picked out and piled together. "My dear Lady Greendale," he said, "I am afraid you must all have very vague ideas as to the amount of accommodation in a 120-ton yacht. She is not a Cunarder or a P and O. Why, two or three of those trunks would absolutely fill one of her cabins." "You did not expect, Major Mallett," Bertha said demurely, "that we were coming for a month's cruise with only handbags; especially after telling us that very likely we might not get a chance of getting any washing done all that time." "Well, I dare say we shall stow them away somewhere. Now, as you have got them all together, we will go down to the boat. "Now, lads, you had better get a hand cart, and get these things on board as soon as you can." "Which is the Osprey?" Amy Sinclair asked Bertha, as they took their places in the boat. Bertha looked with a rather puzzled face at the fleet of yachts. "That is," she said, confidently, after a moment's hesitation, pointing to one towards which the boat was at the moment heading. Frank Mallett laughed. "Really I should have thought, Miss Greendale, that, although making every allowance for feminine vagueness as to boats, you would have known the yacht you christened a month ago; or, at any rate, would not have mistaken a schooner for a yawl, after the patient explanation I gave you on your last visit as to the different rigs. That is the Osprey, a hundred yards lower down." "Oh, yes, I remember now, that when there is a little mast standing on the stern it is a yawl. These things seem very simple to you, Major Mallett, but they are very puzzling to women, who know nothing about them. Now, I venture to say, that if I were to show you six different materials for frocks, and were to tell you all their names, you would know nothing about them when I showed them to you a month afterwards. "I suppose the gentleman on board is Colonel Severn." "Yes, he came down by the train before yours. I thought it better that he should do so, as in the first place, he did not know any of you, and in the next, as you see, we are pretty closely packed as it is." "What is that flag at the masthead?" Lady Greendale asked. "Bertha said that your flag was going to have an eagle on it." "That is on my racing flag. Let me impress upon you, ladies, that a racing flag is a square flag, and that that is not a flag at all, but a burgee. Every club has its burgee; as you see, that is a white cross on a blue ground with a crown in the centre, and is the burgee of the Royal Thames, of which I was elected a member last month. "Here we are. Properly, I ought to be on board first, but I am too wedged in. You and Wilson had better go up first; that will give more room for the ladies to move." "You have got new steps," Bertha said. "When I came down with Mrs. Wilson to christen the boat we had to climb up nasty steep steps against the side. This is a great deal more comfortable. I was thinking that mamma would have a difficulty in getting up those other things, if it were at all rough." "Yes, I have had them specially made for the present occasion. Large cruisers always have them, and, at any rate, they are more comfortable for any-sized boats. But they take up rather more room to stow away, and they are really not so handy in a sea, for the boats cannot get so close alongside. Still, no doubt they are more comfortable for ladies. Now it is your turn." The cruise of the Osprey was in all respects a success. The party was well chosen and pleasant. Colonel Severn and Lady Greendale got on well together. He liked her because she had no objection whatever to his perpetual enjoyment of his pipe. She liked him because he was altogether different from anyone that she had met before; his Indian stories amused her, his views of life were original, and his grumbling at modern ways and modern innovations in no way concealed the fact that in spite of it all he evidently enjoyed life thoroughly. The Osprey had fine weather as she ran along the south coast, anchoring under Portland for a day, while the party examined the works of the breakwater and paid a visit to the quarries, where the convicts were at work. She put into Torquay, Dartmouth and Plymouth, spending a day in the two former ports and two at the last named. They looked into Fowey, and stopped two days at Falmouth, and then, rounding the Land's End, made for Kingstown. From here they started for the Clyde; but meeting with very heavy weather, went into Belfast Lough. The Osprey proved to be a fine sea boat, and behaved so well that even Lady Greendale declared she would not be afraid to trust herself on board her in any weather. They sailed up the Clyde as far as Greenock, and then returning, cruised for a fortnight among the islands on the west coast. They had enjoyed their stay at Kingstown so much that they put in there again on their return voyage, shaped their course for Plymouth, and then, without looking into any other port, returned to Southampton. Jack Hawley and Miss Sinclair had become engaged during the voyage, and the Colonel and Lady Greendale had become so confidential that Frank laughingly asked him if he had changed his views on the subject of matrimony, a suggestion which he indignantly repudiated. "I should have thought that you knew me better," he said, reproachfully. "I admit that Lady Greendale is a very charming woman, but you don't think that she can imagine for a moment that I have ever entertained any idea of such a thing? You said that I was to amuse her if I could. I have tried my best to keep the old lady as much to myself as possible, so as to enable all you young people to carry out your flirtations to your heart's content. By gad, sir, it would be a nice return for following out your instructions to find myself in such a hole as that." Frank had some difficulty in persuading the Colonel that his remark was not meant as a serious one, and that there was no fear whatever that Lady Greendale had ever had the slightest reason to suppose that his intentions were not of a most Platonic nature. "I am heartily glad," the Colonel said, when he was quite pacified, "that Hawley's affair has come off all right. Even if she had not been an heiress I should have said that he was a lucky fellow, for she is an extremely nice and pleasant young woman, without any nonsense about her; still there is no doubt that her fortune will come in very handy for Hawley. As to the girl herself, I think she has made a very good choice. She has plenty of money for both, and as he has managed to keep up on his younger son's portion, he can have no extravagant tastes, and will make her a very good husband. There is no other engagement to be announced, I suppose?" "As I am the only other unmarried man on board, Colonel, your question is somewhat pointed. No; I hope there may be one of these days, but I don't think that it would be fair to ask her here, where I am her host, and she is under the glamour of the sea. I doubt whether she has the slightest idea of what I want. That is the worst of being very old friends; the relations get so fixed that a woman does not recognise that they can ever be changed. However, I shall try my luck one of these days. I don't think that I shall meet with any serious opposition on her mother's part, if Bertha likes me, but I know that Lady Greendale has very much more ambitious views for her, and has quite set her mind upon her making a good match. No doubt she has a right to expect that she will do so. However, I think she is too fond of Bertha to thwart her, however disappointed she might feel. At present I don't think that she has any more suspicion than Bertha herself of my intentions." During the voyage Bertha and Amy Sinclair had become quite adroit helmswomen, and one or other was constantly at the tiller when the wind was light. Bertha had learned the names of all the crew, and often went forward to ask questions of the men tending the head sails, becoming a prime favourite with all hands. On arriving at Southampton the rest of the party went up at once to town, while Frank remained behind for a day or two, going round in the yacht to Gosport, where she was to be laid up for the winter. Chapter 7. "I am so sorry," Bertha Greendale said, "so awfully sorry. I had no idea that you thought of me like that. We were such friends so long ago, and it has been so pleasant since you came home last year, and I like you as if you were a big brother; but I have never thought of you in any other light, and now it seems dreadful to me to give you pain; but I feel sure that I should never come to love you in that way." And she burst into tears. "Do not think anything more about it, dear," Frank Mallett said, gently. "I have felt sometimes when we have been together, that you were so kindly and frank and pleasant with me that you could feel as I wanted you to. I ought to have known it always. But I suppose in such cases a man deceives himself and shuts his eyes to facts. You have certainly nothing to blame yourself about. Of course, it is a hard blow, but no doubt I shall get over it as other fellows do. At any rate, I know that we shall always be dear friends, and you need not fear that I shall mope over my misfortune. I shall run up to town for a bit, and as you are going up for the season next week, I shall no doubt often meet you. Don't fret about me. I have been hit pretty hard several times, though not in the same way, and I have always gone through it, and no doubt I shall do so now. "Goodbye," and when Bertha looked up, he had left the room. "Oh, mamma," she said, when she went into the room where her mother was sitting, "I am so sorry, so dreadfully sorry. Frank Mallett has asked me to be his wife. I have never thought of such a thing and of course I had to say no." "I have thought such a thing likely for some time, Bertha, but I thought it best to hold my tongue about it. In such matters the interference of a mother often does more harm than good. I felt sure, by your manner with him, that you had no idea of it; and I must say that much as I like Frank Mallett, I should have been sorry. I have great hopes of your making a really first-class match." "I could not make a better match," Bertha said, indignantly. "No one could be kinder or nicer than Major Mallett, and we know how brave he is and how he has distinguished himself, and he has a good estate and everything that anyone could wish; only unfortunately I do not love him--at least not in that way. He has never shown me what I should consider any particular attention, and never talked to me in the way men do when they are making love to a girl. Nothing could be nicer, and it was all the nicer because I never thought of this. I suppose it is because he is so different from some of the men I met in town last season, who always seemed to be trying to get round me. No, I know it is not a nice expression, mamma, but you know what I mean." "I know, my dear," her mother smiled. "Of course you are a very good match, and though I do not want to flatter you, you were one of the belles of the season. Though some of the men you speak of were by no means desirable--younger sons and barristers and that sort of thing--still, there were two or three whom any girl might have been pleased to see at her feet, and who, I am sure from what I saw, only needed but little encouragement from you to be there. I was a little vexed, dear, you see, that you did not give any of them that encouragement; but I understand, of course, that the novelty of your first season carried you away altogether; and that you liked the dancing and the fetes and the opera for themselves, and not because they brought you in contact with men of excellent class. So far as I could see, it was a matter of indifference to you whether the man was a peer with a splendid rent roll, or a younger son without a farthing, so that he was a good dancer and a pleasant companion; but of course after a season or two you will grow wiser." "I do hope not, mamma," Bertha said, indignantly. "I don't mean to say that it might not be better to marry, as you say, a peer with a good rent roll than a younger son without a penny, other things being equal; that is to say, if one liked them equally; but I hope that I shall never come to like anyone a bit more for being a peer." Lady Greendale smiled, indulgently. "It is a natural sentiment, my dear, for a girl of your age and inexperience; but in time you will come to see things in a different light." Then she changed the subject. "What is Frank going to do? It is fortunate that we are going up to town next week." "He is going up to town himself tomorrow, and I am sure that you will never hear from him, or from anyone else, what has happened. We shall meet in town as usual, and I am sure that he will be just the same as he was before, and that I shall be a great deal more uncomfortable than he will. It is a very silly affair altogether, I think; and I would give anything if it had not happened." Lady Greendale did not echo the sentiment. She liked Frank Mallett immensely. He had always been a great favourite of hers, but since she had guessed what Bertha herself had not dreamed of, she had been uncomfortable. It threatened to disturb all the plans she had formed, and she was well contented to learn that she had refused him. Lady Greendale was a thoroughly kind-hearted woman, but she could not forget that she herself might have made, in a worldly sense, a better match than she had; and her ambition had, since Bertha was a child, and still more since she had shown promise of exceptional good looks, been centred on her making a really good match. Frank went up to town next day, and the Greendales followed him a week later. They did not often meet him in society, as Frank seldom went out; but he called occasionally in the old friendly and unceremonious way. It would have required an acute observer to see any difference in his manner to Bertha, but Lady Greendale noticed it, and the girl herself felt that, although he was no less kind and friendly, there was some impalpable change in his manner, something that she felt, though she could not define it, even to herself. "Have you had a tiff with Major Mallett, Bertha?" Mrs. Wilson asked one day, when she was alone with her in the drawing room. Frank had just left, after spending an hour there. "A tiff, Carrie? No! What put such an idea into your head?" "My eyes, assisted perhaps by my ears. My dear, do you think that after being with you on the yacht last autumn, I should not notice any change in your manner to each other? I had expected before now to have heard an interesting piece of news; and now I see that things have gone wrong somehow." "We are just as good friends as we always were," Bertha said, shortly; "every bit." "You don't mean to say that you have refused him, Bertha?" "I don't mean to say anything of the sort. I simply say that Major Mallett and I have always been great friends, and we are so now. There is no one that I have a higher regard for." "Well, Bertha, I do not want to know your secrets, if you do not wish to tell me. All that I can say is that, if you have refused him, you have done a very foolish thing. I don't know any man that a woman might be happier with. When we were out last year with you, Amy and I agreed that it was certain to come off, and thought how well suited you were to each other. Of course, in worldly respects, you might do better; just at present you have the ball at your feet; but choose where you may you will not find a finer fellow than he is. Yes, I told Harry that it was lucky that I had not made that trip on board the Osprey before I was irrevocably captured, for I should certainly have lost my heart to Major Mallett. Well, I am sorry, Bertha, more sorry than I can say; and I am sure that Amy will be, too." "I said nothing whatever, Carrie, that would justify this little explosion, which I certainly don't intend to answer. I should really feel very vexed, if I were not perfectly sure that you would never tell anyone else of this notion that you have got in your head." "You may be quite sure of that, Bertha. At least when I say no one else, of course I do not include Harry; but you know him well enough to be certain that it will not go further. I am sure he will be as disappointed as I am. In fact, he will have a small triumph over me, for after the usual manner of men he saw nothing on board the yacht, and has always maintained that it was pure fancy on my part. However, I won't tell anyone else, not even Amy. She can find it out for herself, which you may be sure she will do when she comes back from the continent, if indeed her own happiness with Jack has not blinded her to all sub-lunary matters. "Well, goodbye, dear. You will forgive my saying that I am disappointed in you, terribly disappointed in you." "I must try to put up with that, Carrie. I am not aware that you consulted me before you made your own matrimonial arrangements, and perhaps I may be able to manage my own.'' "Well, don't be cross, Bertha. Remember that I am not advising or counselling. I am simply regretting, which perhaps you may do yourself, some day or other." And with this parting shot she left. The weeks went on, and when May came and Frank told her that the Osprey was fitted out, and that he would join her in a day or two, Bertha heard the news with satisfaction. The season was a gay one, and she was enjoying herself greatly; the one little drop of bitterness in her cup being that she could no longer enjoy his visits as she formerly did. He had been the one man with whom she was able to talk and laugh quite freely, who was really an old friend, a link not only between her and the past, but between her and her country life. And now, she thought pettishly, he had spoiled all this, and what annoyed her almost as much was that the change was more in herself than in him. She no longer gave him commissions to execute for her, nor made him her general confidant. She knew that he would be as ready as before to laugh and to sympathise, that he would still gladly execute her commissions, and she felt that he tried hard to make her forget that he had aspired to be something nearer to her than a brotherly friend. She felt that after what he had said they could never stand in quite the same relation as before. Accustomed as Frank was to read her thoughts, he was not deceived by the expression of regret that she should now see but little of him, as he saw the news was really pleasant to her. She was not aware that it was a conversation that he had had the evening before with Colonel Severn, which had decided him to go down to the Osprey a fortnight earlier than he had intended. "You are getting to be almost as regular an attendant here, Mallett, as I am. I think you are altogether too young to take regularly to club life. It is all very well for an old fogey like me, but I don't think it a good thing for a young fellow like you to take so early to a bachelor life." "I don't want to do anything of the sort, Colonel. But I can't stand these crushes in hot rooms; I cannot for the life of me see where the pleasure comes in. I begin to think that I was an ass to leave the army." "Not at all, lad, not at all. When a man has got a good estate it is much better for him to settle down upon it, and to marry and have children, and all that sort of thing, than it is to remain in the army in times of peace. I had Wilson and Hawley dining with me here yesterday. We had a great chat over the pleasant time we had last year on board your yacht. I don't know when I enjoyed myself so much as I did then. Lady Greendale is a remarkably clever woman, and her daughter is as nice a girl as I have come across for a long time, and without a scrap of nonsense about her. I wonder that she has not become engaged by this time. General Matthews, who, as you know, goes in a good deal for that sort of thing for the sake of his daughters, told me recently that he fancied from what he had heard that Miss Greendale's engagement was likely to be a settled thing before the season was over. He said there were three men making the running--Lord Chilson, the eldest son of the Earl of Sommerlay; George Delamore--his father is in the Cabinet, you know, and he is member for Ponberry; and a man named Carthew, who keeps race horses, and was a neighbour of hers down in the country. He is, I hear, a good-looking fellow, and just the sort of man a girl is likely to fancy. Matthews thought that the chances were in his favour. As you are a neighbour of theirs, too, I suppose you will know him?" "I knew him at one time, Colonel, but I have not seen him now for a good many years, beyond meeting him two or three times at dinners and so on last season. He was away when I was at home before going out to India, and he had sold his estate before I came back." "They say he has been very lucky on the turf, and has made a pot of money." "So I have heard," Frank said; "but, you see, one generally hears of men's good luck, and not of their bad. Besides, many men do most of their real betting through commissioners, especially if they own horses themselves. He is a fellow I don't much care for, and I hope that whomever Miss Greendale may marry, he will not be the man." "I thought, when you first asked me down last year, that you had got up the party specially for her, Mallett, and that you were going in for the prize yourself. But of course I soon saw that I was mistaken, as you were altogether too good chums for that to come about. I have often noticed that men and girls who are thrown a lot together are often capital friends, but, although just the pair you would think would come together, that they hardly ever do so. I have noticed it over and over again. Well, she is an uncommonly nice girl, whoever gets her." Frank did not return to town until the end of June. "I have to congratulate you upon the Osprey's victory," Bertha said, the first time he called to see them. "You may imagine with what interest I read the accounts of the yacht races. I saw you won two on the Thames, and were first once and second once at Southampton." "Yes, the Osprey has shown herself to be, as I thought, an uncommonly fast boat. We should have had two firsts at Southampton, if the pilot had not cut matters too fine and run us aground just opposite Netley; we were a quarter of an hour before we were off again. We picked up a lot of our lost ground and got a second, but were beaten eight minutes by the winner." "Have you entered for the Queen's Cup at Ryde?" "I have not entered yet, but I am going to do so," he said. "Mamma and I will be down there. Lord Haverley--he is first cousin to mamma, you know--has taken a house there for the month, and he is going to have a large party, and we are going down for Ryde week." "Yes, and there will be the Victoria Yacht Club ball, and all sorts of gaieties. I have not entered yet, but I am going to do so. The entries do not close till next Saturday." "You will call and see us, of course, Frank?" Lady Greendale said. "Haverley has a big schooner yacht, and I dare say we shall be a good deal on the water." "I shall certainly do myself the pleasure of calling, Lady Greendale." "I warn you, Frank, that Bertha and I will be very disappointed if the Osprey does not win the cup. We regard ourselves as being, to some extent, her proprietors; and it will be a grievous blow to us if you don't win." "I do not feel by any means sure about it," he said. "I fancy there will be several boats that have not raced yet this season, and as two of them are new ones, there is no saying what they may turn out." Frank only stayed two days in town. He learned from Jack Hawley that it was reported that Lord Chilson and George Delamore had both been refused by Bertha Greendale. "Chilson went away suddenly," he said. "As to Delamore, of course as he is a Member he had to stop through the Session, but from what I hear, and as you know I have some good sources of information, I am pretty sure that he has got his conge too. I fancy Carthew is the favourite. As a rule I don't like these men who go in for racing, but he is a deuced-nice fellow. I have seen a good deal of him. He put me up to a good thing for the Derby ten days ago. He gives uncommonly good supper parties, and has asked me several times, but I have not gone to them, for I believe there is a good deal of play afterwards, and I cannot stand unlimited loo." "Is he lucky himself?" Frank asked. "No, quite the other way, I hear. I know a man who has been to three or four of his suppers, and he told me that Carthew had lost every time, once or twice pretty heavily." "Carthew's horse ran second, didn't it, for the Derby?" "Yes, the betting was twenty to one against him at starting." "I wonder he did not give that tip as well as the other." "Well, he did say that he thought it might run into a place, but that he was sure that he had no chance with the favourite. As it turned out, he was nearer winning than he expected; for the favourite went down the day before the race, from 5 to 4 on, to 10 to 1 against. There was a report about that he had gone wrong in some way. Some fellows said that there had been an attempt to get at him, others that he had got a nail in his foot. The general feeling had been that he would win in a canter, but as it was he only beat Carthew's horse by a short head." "Had Carthew backed his horse to win?" "He told me that he had only backed it for a hundred, but had put five hundred on it for a place, and as he got six to one against it he came uncommonly well out of it." "And do you think it likely that Miss Greendale will accept him?" "Ah! that I cannot say. He has certainly been making very strong running, and if I were a betting man I should not mind laying two to one on the event coming off." Frank joined the Osprey, which was lying off Portsmouth Harbour, on the following day. "I am back earlier than I expected, George," he said, as Lechmere met him at the station. "I have got tired of London, and want to be on board again." "Nothing gone wrong in town, I hope, Major?" George said next day, as he was removing the breakfast things. "You will excuse my asking, but you don't seem to me to be yourself since you came on board." "Well, yes, George. I am upset, I confess. I am sure you will be sorry, too, when I tell you that it is more than probable that Miss Greendale is going to marry Mr. Carthew." George put the dish he was holding down on the table with a crash, and stood gazing at Frank in blank dismay. "Why, sir, I thought," he said, slowly, "that it was going to be you and Miss Greendale. I had always thought so. Excuse me, sir, I don't mean any offence, but that is what we have all thought ever since she came down to christen the yacht." "There is no offence, George. Yes, I don't mind telling you that I had hoped so myself, but it was not to be. You see, Miss Greendale has known me since she was a child, and she has never thought of me in any other way than as a sort of cousin--someone she liked very much, but had never thought of for a moment as one she could marry. That is all past and gone, but I should be sorry, most sorry, for her to marry Carthew, knowing what I do of him." "But it must not be, sir," George said, vehemently. "You can never let that sweet young lady marry that black-hearted villain." "Unfortunately I cannot prevent it, George." "Why, sir, you would only have to tell her about Martha, and I am sure it would do for his business. Miss Greendale can know nothing about it. So far as I can remember, she was not more than sixteen at the time. I don't suppose Lady Greendale ever heard of it. She knew, of course, of Martha's being missing, because it made quite a stir, but I don't suppose that she heard of her coming back. She was only at home three weeks before she died. There were not many that ever saw her, and father told me that he and the others made it so hot for Carthew one day at Chippenham market that he never came down again, and sold the place soon after. I don't suppose the gentry ever heard anything about it. If they had, Lady Greendale would surely never let her daughter marry him." "No, I feel sure she would not; but still, George, I don't see that I can possibly interfere in the matter. The story is three years old now, and even if it had only happened yesterday, I, after what has occurred between us, could not come forward as his accuser. It would have the appearance of spite on my side; and besides, I have no proof whatever. He would, of course, deny the whole thing. I do not mean that he would deny that she said so--he could not do that--but he might declare that she had spoken falsely, and might even say that it was an attempt to put another's sin on his shoulders. Moreover, as I told you, I have other reasons for disliking the man, and, on the face of it, it would seem that I had raked up this old story against him, not only from jealousy, but from personal malice. "No, it is out of the question that I should interfere. I would give everything that I am worth to be able to do so, but it is impossible. If I had full and unquestionable proofs I would go to Lady Greendale and lay the matter before her. But I have no such proofs. There is nothing whatever except that poor girl's word against his." George's lips closed, and an expression of grim determination came over his face. "I dare say you are right, Major," he said, after a pause; "but it seems to me hard that Miss Greendale should be sacrificed to a man like that." Frank did not reply. He had already thought the matter over and over again, and had reached the opinion that he could not interfere. If he had not himself proposed to her, and been refused, he might have moved. Up to that time he had stood in the position of an old friend of the family, and as such could well have spoken to Lady Greendale on a matter that so vitally concerned Bertha's happiness. Now his taking that step would have the appearance of being the interference of a disappointed rival, rather than of a disinterested friend. He went up on deck, sat there for a time, and at last arrived at a conclusion. "It is my duty. There can be no doubt about that," he said to himself. "If Bertha really loves Carthew, she will believe his denial rather than my accusation, unsupported as it is by a scrap of real evidence. In that case, she will put down my story as a piece of malice and meanness. But, after all, that will matter little. I had better far lose her liking and esteem than my own self respect. I will tell Lady Greendale about this. The responsibility will be off my hands then. She may not view the matter as an absolute bar to Carthew's marrying Bertha--that is her business and Bertha's--but at any rate I shall have done my duty. I will wait, however, until Bertha has accepted him. "I have made up my mind, George," he said, later on. "If I hear that Miss Greendale has accepted Carthew, I shall go to her mother and tell her the story. I have little hope that it will do much good. It is very hard to make a girl believe anything against the man she loves, until it can be proved beyond doubt, and as Carthew will of course indignantly deny that he had anything to do with it, I expect that it will have no effect whatever, beyond making her dislike me cordially. Still, that cannot be helped. It is clearly my duty not only as her friend, but as the friend of her father and mother. But I wish that the task did not fall upon me." "I am glad to hear you say that, Major," George said, quietly. "I can see, sir, that, as you say, it would be better if anyone else could do it, but Lady Greendale has known you for so many years that she must surely know that you would never have told her unless you believed the story to be true." "No doubt she will, George. I hope Miss Greendale will, too; but even if she does not see it in that light I cannot help it. Well, I will go ashore to the clubhouse and find out whether they have heard anything about the entries for the cup." When he returned he said to the captain: "I hear that the Phantom has entered, Hawkins. I am told that she has just come off the slips, and that she has had a new suit of racing canvas made by Lapthorne." "Well, sir, I think that we ought to have a good chance with her. She has shown herself a very fast boat the few times she has been raced, but so have we, and taking the line through boats that we have both sailed against, I think that we ought to be able to beat her." "I have rather a fancy that we shan't do so, Hawkins. We will do our best, but I have met Mr. Carthew a good many times, for we were at school and college together, and somehow or other he has always managed to beat me." "Ah! well, we will turn the tables on him this time, sir." "I hope so, but it has gone so often the other way that I have got to be a little superstitious about it. I would give a good deal to beat him. I should like to win the Queen's Cup, as you know; but even if I didn't win it I should be quite satisfied if I but beat him." Chapter 8. It was the week of the Ryde Regatta. At that time Ryde disputed with Cowes the glory of being the headquarters of yachting, and the scene was a gay one. Every house in the neighbourhood was crowded with guests, many had been let for the week at fabulous rates, the town was bright with flags, and a great fleet of yachts was moored off the town, extending from the pier westward as far as the hulks. The lawn of the Victoria Yacht Club was gay with ladies, a military band was playing, boats rowed backwards and forwards between the yachts and the clubhouses. It was the first day of the Regatta, and the Queen's Cup was not to be sailed for until the third. On the previous morning Frank had received a note from Lady Greendale, saying that they had arrived with Lord Haverley's party the day before, and enclosing an invitation from him to dinner that day. He went up to call as soon as he received it, but excused himself from dining on the ground of a previous engagement, as he felt sure that Carthew would be one of the party. "I suppose, Lady Greendale, it is no use asking you and Bertha to sail in the Osprey on Friday?" "I should not think of going, Frank. A racing yacht is no place for an old lady. As for Bertha, she is already engaged. Mr. Carthew asked her a fortnight since to sail on the Phantom. Lady Olive Marston and her cousin, Miss Haverley, are also going. I know that it is not very usual for ladies to go on racing yachts, but they are all accustomed to yachting, and Mr. Carthew declares that they won't be in the way in the least." "I don't see why they should be," Frank said, after a short pause. "Of course, in a small boat it would be different, but in a craft like the Phantom there is plenty of room for two or three ladies without their getting in the way of the crew. "Well, I must be going," he broke off somewhat hastily, for he saw a group coming down the garden path towards the house. It consisted of Bertha and two other ladies, Carthew and another man. "What other evening would suit you, Frank?" Lady Greendale asked as he rose. "I am afraid I am engaged all through the week, Lady Greendale." "I am sorry," she said, quietly, "but perhaps it is for the best, Frank." The door closed behind him just as the party from the garden entered through the French windows. The next morning George Lechmere went ashore with the steward, when the latter landed to do his marketing. The street up the hill was crowded, and numbers of yachts' sailors were ashore. Stewards with the flat rush baskets, universally used by them, were going from shop to shop; groups of sailors were chatting over the events of the day; and carriages were standing before the fishmongers', poulterers', and fruit and flower shops, while the owners were laying in supplies for their guests. People had driven in from all parts of the island to see the races, and light country carts with eggs, butter, fowls, and fruit were making their way down the steep hill. George had learnt from a casual remark of Frank's where the house taken by Lord Haverley was situated, and going up the hill turned to the right and kept on until he came to a large house embowered in trees. Breakfast was just over when a servant told Bertha that a gentleman who said his name was George Lechmere wished to speak to her. She went out to him in the hall. "Well, George," she said, holding out her hand to him frankly, for he was a great favourite of hers; "I suppose you have brought me up a message from Major Mallett?" "No, Miss Greendale, the Major does not know that I have come to you. It is on my own account that I am here. Could you spare me a quarter of an hour?" "Certainly, George," she said, in some surprise. "I will come out into the garden. We are likely to have it to ourselves at this hour." She fetched her hat, and they went out into the garden together. George did not attempt to speak until they reached the other end, where there was a seat in a shady corner. "Sit down, George," she said. "Thank you, Miss Greendale, I would rather stand," and he took his place in front of her. "I have a story to tell you," he said. "It is very painful for me to have to tell it, and it will be painful for you to hear it; but I am sure that you ought to know." Bertha did not say anything, but looked at him with eyes wide open with surprise. "I am sure, Miss Greendale," George went on, "that the Major never told you that the bad wound he received at Delhi that all but killed him, was my doing--that he was wounded by a ball from my musket." "No, George, he certainly never said so. I suppose he was in front of you, and your musket went off accidentally?" "No, Miss Greendale, I took deliberate aim at him, and it was only the mercy of God that saved his life." Bertha was too surprised and shocked to speak, and he went on: "He himself thought that he had been hit by a Sepoy bullet, and it was only when I sent for him, believing that I had received my death wound, that he knew that it was I who had hit him." "But for what?" she asked. "What made you do this terrible thing? I thought he was liked by his men." "There was no one liked better, Miss Greendale; he was the most popular officer in the regiment, and if the soldiers had known it, and I had escaped being hung for it, I should have been shot the first time I went into action afterwards. It had nothing to do with the army. I enlisted in his company on purpose to shoot him." Bertha could hardly believe her ears. She looked at the man earnestly. Surely he could not have been drinking at that time of the morning, and she would have doubted his sanity had it not been for the calm and earnest look in his face. He went on: "I came here to tell you why I shot at him." "I don't want to hear," she said, hurriedly. "It is no business of mine. I know that whatever it was Major Mallett must have forgiven you. Besides, you saved his life afterwards." "Excuse me, Miss Greendale, but it is a matter that concerns you, and I pray you to listen to me. You have heard of Martha Bennett, the poor girl who disappeared four years ago, and who was thought to have been murdered." "Yes, I remember the talk about it. It was never known who had done it." "She was not murdered," he said. "She returned some months afterwards, but only to die. It was about the time that Sir John was ill, and naturally you would have heard nothing of it. "Well, Miss Greendale, I was at one time engaged to Martha. I was of a jealous, passionate disposition, and I did not make enough allowance for her being young and naturally fond of admiration. I quarrelled with her and the engagement was broken off, but I still loved her with all my heart and soul." Then he went on to tell of how maddened he had been when he had seen her talking to Major Mallett, and of the conversation he had overheard in her father's garden, on the evening before she was missing. "I jumped at the conclusion at once, Miss Greendale, that it was Captain Mallett, as he was then. He had been round saying goodbye to the tenants that afternoon, and I knew that he was going abroad. What could I suppose but that he had ruined my poor girl, and had persuaded her to go out to join him in India? I waited for a time, while they searched for the body I knew they would never find. My own father and mother, in their hearts, thought that I had murdered her in a fit of jealous rage. At last I made up my mind to enlist in his regiment, to follow him to India, kill him, find her, and bring her home." "How dreadful!" the girl murmured. "It was dreadful, Miss Greendale. I believe now that I must have been mad at the time. However, I did it, but at the end failed. Mercifully I was saved from being a murderer. As I told you, I was badly wounded. I thought I was going to die, and the doctor thought so, too. So I sent for Captain Mallett that I might have the satisfaction of letting him know that it was I who fired the shot, and that it was in revenge for the wrong that he had done Martha. "When I told him I saw by his face, even before he spoke, that I had been wrong. He knew nothing whatever of it. Well, miss, he forgave me--forgave me wholly. He told me that he should never mention it to a soul, and as he has never mentioned it even to you, you may see how well he has kept his word. I wanted to leave the regiment. I felt that I could never mix with my comrades, knowing as I did that I had tried to murder their favourite officer. But the Major would not hear of it. He insisted that I should stay, and, even more, he promised that as soon as I was out of hospital I should be his servant, saying that as the son of an old tenant, he would rather have me than anyone else. You can well imagine, then, Miss Greendale, how willingly I would have given my life for him, and that when the chance came I gladly faced odds to save him. "Before that I had come to learn who the man was. It was a letter from my father that first gave me the clue; he mentioned that another gentleman had left the neighbourhood and gone abroad, just at the time that Major Mallett did. He was a man who had once made me madly jealous by his attentions to Martha at a fete given to his tenants. "The Major had the same thought, and he told me that he knew the man was a bad fellow, though he did not say why he thought so. Then I heard that Martha had returned to die, and I learned that she had told her mother the name of her destroyer, who deserted her three months after he had taken her away. When he came back from abroad her father and mine and some others met him at Chippenham market. They attacked him, and I believe would have killed him, had he not ridden off. The next day he went up to London, and a fortnight later his estate was in the market, and he never came into that part of the country again. "I have told you all this, Miss Greendale, because I have heard that you know the man, and I thought you ought to know what sort of a man he is. His name is Carthew." Bertha had grown paler and paler as the story went on, and when he ended, she sat still and silent for two or three minutes. Then she said in a low tone: "Thank you, George. You have done right in telling me this story; it is one that I ought to know. I wonder--" and she stopped. "You wonder that the Major did not tell you, Miss Greendale. I asked him, myself. When you think it over, you will understand why he could not tell you; for he had no actual proof, save the dying girl's words and what I had seen and heard; and his motive in telling it might have been misunderstood. But he told me that, even at the risk of that, he should feel it his duty, if you became engaged to that villain, to tell the story to Lady Greendale. "But if he found it hard to speak, there seemed to me no reason why I shouldn't. Except my father and mother and he, no one knows that I was well nigh a murderer. And though he has so generously forgiven me, and I have in a small way tried to show my gratitude to him, it was still painful to me to have to tell the story to anyone else. But I felt that I ought to do it--not for his sake, because he has told me that what I had looked for and what he had so hoped for is not to be--but because I thought that you ought not to be allowed to sacrifice your life to such a man; and partly, too, because I wished to spare my dear master the pain of telling the story, and of perhaps being misunderstood." "Thank you, George," she said, quietly. "You have done quite right in telling--" At this moment some voices were heard at the other end of the garden. "I will be going at once," George said, seizing the opportunity of getting away; and turning, he walked down the garden and left the house. "Who is your friend, Bertha?" Miss Haverley said, laughingly, as she met Bertha coming slowly down the garden. "Why--is anything the matter?" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of her face. "I have become suddenly faint, Hannah," Bertha replied. "I suppose it was the heat yesterday; and it is very warm this morning, too. I am better now, and it will soon pass over. I will go indoors for half an hour, and then I shall be quite right again. "My friend is no one particular. He is Major Mallett's factotum. He only brought me up a message, but as I know all the men on the Osprey, and have not been on board this season, of course there was a good deal to ask about." "Well, you must get well as soon as you can," Miss Haverley said. "You know we shall leave in half an hour for the yacht, so as to get under way in time for the start." At the appointed time, Bertha joined the party below. Her eyes looked heavy and her cheeks were flushed, but she assured Miss Haverley that she felt quite herself now, and that she was sure that the sea air would set her up altogether. The schooner was under way a quarter of an hour before the gun was fired, and sailed east, as the course was twice round the Nab and back. Yachts were flitting about in all directions, for a light air had only sprung up during the last half hour. "There is the Phantom," Lord Haverley said. "She has been cruising about the last two days to get her sails stretched, and they look uncommonly well. Carthew told me yesterday that she would be across early this morning, and that he should go round with the race to see how she did. I think you young ladies will have a very good chance of being able to boast that you have sailed in the yacht that won the Queen's Cup. I fancy it lies between her and the Osprey. Mallett is getting up sail, too, I see, but as the Phantom is going with the race, I don't suppose he will. She is a fine craft, though I own I like the cutter rig better. The Phantom will have to allow her time, but not a great deal, for the yawl is the heaviest tonnage. "There is the starting gun. They are all close together at the line. "That is a pretty sight, Lady Greendale. Talk about the start of race horses, it is no more to be compared with it than light to dark." After cruising about for three or four hours, their schooner dropped anchor near the Osprey, which had come in half an hour before. "Have you ever been on board the Osprey, Lord Haverley?" Bertha asked. "No, my dear, I don't know that I have ever before been in any port with your friend Major Mallett." "Well, what do you say to our going on board for a few minutes, on our way to shore? Mamma and I are very fond of her, and I am her godmother, having christened her." "Godmother and curate coupled in one, eh, Bertha? We will go by all means; that is to say, we cannot invade him in a body, but those of us who know Mallett can go on board, and the gig can come back and take the rest ashore and then come to fetch us." Accordingly, Lord Haverley and his daughter, Lady Greendale and Bertha, and two others of the party were rowed to the Osprey. Frank saw them coming and met them at the gangway. "We are taking you by storm, Major," Lord Haverley said, "but Lady Greendale and her daughter claim an almost proprietary interest in the Osprey, because the latter is her godmother. Indeed, we are all naturally interested in her, too, as being one of our cracks. She is a very smart-looking craft, though I think it is a pity that she is not cutter rigged." "She would look prettier, no doubt," Frank said; "but, you see, though she was built as a racer, and I like a race occasionally, that was not my primary object. I wanted her for cruising, and there is no doubt that a yawl is more handy, and you can work her with fewer hands than you can a cutter of the same size." They went round the vessel, and then returning on deck, sat down and chatted while waiting for the boat's return. "I sincerely hope that you will win, Frank, on Friday," Lady Greendale said. "Our sympathies are rather divided, but I hope the Osprey will win." "Thank you, Lady Greendale, but I am by no means sanguine about it. "I fancy, Miss Haverley, that you and Miss Greendale will see the winning flag flying overhead when the race is over." "Why do you think so, Major?" Lord Haverley asked. "The general opinion is that your record is better than that of the Phantom. She has done well in the two or three races she has sailed, but she certainly did not beat the Lesbia or the Mermaid by as much as you did." "That may be," Frank agreed, "but I regard Carthew as having been born under a lucky star; and though my own opinion is that if the Phantom were in other hands we should beat her, I fancy his luck will pull her through." Haverley laughed. "I should not have given you credit for being superstitious, Major." "I don't think that I have many superstitions, but I own to something like it in this case." Bertha looked earnestly at him. Just before the gig returned from the shore, she and Frank were standing together. "I am sorry that I shall not have your good wishes tomorrow," he said. "I have not said that anyone will have my good wishes," she replied. "I shall be on board the Phantom because I was invited there before you asked me, but my hope is that the best yacht will win. I want to speak to you for a minute or two. When can I see you?" "I can come up tomorrow morning early," he replied. "What time will best suit you?" "Ten o'clock; please ask for mamma." The next morning, Lady Greendale and Bertha came together into the sitting room into which Frank had been shown on calling at Lord Haverley's. "You are early, Frank." "Yes, Lady Greendale. I am going for a run round the island. It makes me fidgety to sit all day with nothing to do, and I am always contented when I am under sail. As I shan't have time to come in tomorrow morning, for you know we start at nine, I thought that I would drop in this morning, even if the hour was an early one." After chatting for a few minutes, Lady Greendale made some excuse to leave the room. "She knew that you were coming, and that I wanted to speak to you," said Bertha. "Well, what is it--anything of importance?" he asked with a smile. She hesitated and then went on. "Some words you spoke yesterday recalled to me something you said nearly four years ago. Do you remember when we sat next to each other in the twilight, the day before you went to India? We were talking about superstitions then, and you told me that you had only one, and said what it was--you remember?" "I remember," he said, gravely. "About someone who had beaten you always, and who you thought always would beat you, if you came in contact again. You would not tell me his name. Was it Mr. Carthew?" "I would not answer the question then, Bertha, and you surely cannot expect me to answer it now." "I do expect you to answer it." "Then I must most emphatically decline to do so," he said. "What! do you think that if it were he, I would be so base as to discredit him now? For you must remember that I said that only one of my defeats was due to foul play, that most of the others were simply due to the fact that he was a better man than I was. The matter has long since been forgotten, and, whoever it is, I would not prejudice him in the opinion of anyone by raising up that old story. I have no shadow of proof that it was he who damaged my boat. It might have been the act of some boatman about the place who had laid his money against my winning." "That is enough," she said quietly. "I did not think that you would tell me whether it was Mr. Carthew, but I was sure that if it were not he you would not hesitate to say so. Thank you, that is all I wanted to see you for. What you said yesterday brought that talk we had so vividly into my mind that I could not resist asking you. It explained what seemed to me at the time to be strange; how it was that you, who are generally so cordial in your manner, were so cold to him when you first met him at our house. I thought that there might be something more serious--" and she looked him full in the face. "Perhaps I am a prejudiced beggar," he said, with an attempt to smile, and then added somewhat bitterly; "You see things since have not been calculated to make me specially generous in his case." She did not reply, and after a moment's pause he said, "Well, as Lady Greendale seems to be busy, I will be going." "You will come to the ball tomorrow evening, won't you?" she asked. "I suppose I shall have to," he said. "If I win, though mind I feel sure that I shan't, it will seem odd if I don't come. If I lose, it will look as if I sulked." "You must come," she said, "and you must have a dance with me. You have not been keeping your word, Major Mallett. You said that you would always be the same to me, and you are not. You have never once asked me to dance with you, and you are changed altogether." "I try to be--I try hard, Bertha; but just at present it is beyond me. I cannot stand by and see you going--" and he stopped abruptly. "Well, never mind, Bertha. It will all come right in time, but at any rate I cannot stand it at present. Goodbye." And without giving her time to reply, he hastily left the room. Bertha stood silent for a minute or two, then quietly followed him out of the room. The next day Ryde was astir early. It was the Queen's Cup day. Eight yachts were entered: three schooners--the Rhodope, the Isobel, and the Mayflower; four cutters--the Pearl, the Chrysalis, the Alacrity, and the Phantom; and the Osprey, which was the only yawl. It was half-past eight, and all were under way under mainsail and jib. The Solent was alive with yachts. They were pouring out from Southampton water, they were coming up from Cowes, and some were making their way across from Portsmouth. The day was a fine one for sailing. "Have you got the same extra hands as last time?" Frank asked the skipper. "All the same, sir. They all know their work well, and of course if there is anything to be done aloft, our own men go up. I don't think any of them will beat us in smartness." As the time approached for the start, the racers began to gather in the neighbourhood of the starting line; and as the five-minutes gun fired, the topsail went up, and they began to sail backwards and forwards near it. As the Phantom crossed under the lee of the Osprey, the three ladies waved their handkerchiefs to Frank, who took off his cap. "May the best yacht win," Bertha called out, as the vessels flew quickly apart. "We could not want a better day, George," Frank said. "We can carry everything comfortably, and there is not enough wind to kick up much of a sea. As far as we are concerned, I would rather that the wind had been either north or south, so that we could have laid our course all round; as it is, we shall have the wind almost dead aft till we are round the Nab, then we shall be close-hauled, with perhaps an occasional tack along the back of the island, then free again back. There is no doubt that the cutters have a pull close-hauled. I fancy with this wind the schooners will be out of it; though if it had been a reach the whole way, they would have had a good chance. "Four minutes are gone." He was holding his watch in his hand, and after a short pause called out, "Five seconds gone." The Osprey had a good position at present; though, with the wind aft, this was of comparatively little consequence. She was nearly in a line with the mark boat nearest to the shore, and some hundred and fifty yards from it. "Haul in the main sheet," Hawkins said quietly, and the men stationed there hauled on the rope until he said, "That will do, we must not go too fast." He went on, turning to Frank (who had just called out, "Twenty seconds gone"): "I think that we shall about do." The latter nodded. "A bit more, lads," the skipper said ten seconds later. "That will do." "Fifteen seconds more," Frank said presently. "Slack away the sheet, slack it away handsomely. Up foresail, that is it," shouted the skipper. As the boom ran out, and the foresail went up, the Osprey glided on with accelerated speed, and the end of the bowsprit was but a few yards from the starting line when the gun fired. "Bravo, good start," Frank said, as he looked round for the first time. The eight yachts were all within a length of each other, and a cheer broke from the boats around as they sped on their way. For a time there was but little difference between them, and then the cutters began to show a little in front. Their long booms gave them an advantage over the schooners and the yawl when before the wind; the spinnaker was not then invented, and the wind was not sufficiently dead aft to enable the schooners to carry their mainsail and foresails, wing and wing; or for the yawl's mizzen to help her. As they passed Sea View the cutters were a length ahead, the Phantom having a slight advantage over her sisters. They gained no further, for the schooners fell into their wake as soon as they were able to do so, thus robbing them of some of their wind. The Osprey, having the inside station, kept straight on, and came up with the cutters as they were abreast of the end of the island. All were travelling very fast through the water. "We shall be first round the Nab, sir," Hawkins said in delight. "The schooners are smothering the cutters, but they are not hurting us." "Give her plenty of room when we get there," Frank said. The skipper nodded. "I won't risk a foul, sir, you may be sure." The three ladies on board the Phantom were seated on footstools under the weather bulwark--although as yet the yachts were travelling on an almost even keel. Miss Haverley and Lady Olive uttered exclamations of satisfaction as the Phantom slowly drew ahead of the others, and were loud in their disgust as they saw the effect of the schooner's sail behind them on their own speed. "I don't call it fair," the former said; "if a vessel cannot sail well herself, that she should be allowed to damage the chances of others. Do you, Bertha?" "I don't know. I suppose it is equally fair for all, and that we should do the same if a boat had got ahead of us. Still, it is very tiresome, but it is just as bad for the other cutters." "Look at the Osprey," Lady Olive said soon afterwards. "She is coming up fast; you see, she has nothing behind her. I do believe that she is going to pass us." "It won't make much difference," Carthew, who was standing close to her, said confidently. "The race won't really begin until we are round the Nab, and after that we shan't hamper each other. I am quite content with the way that we are going." The Osprey rounded the lightship two lengths ahead, the Phantom came next, three lengths before the Chrysalis, and the others followed in quick succession. The sheets were hauled in, and the yachts were able to lie close-hauled for Ventnor. The three leading boats maintained their respective places, but drew out from each other, and when they passed Ventnor the Osprey was some five lengths ahead of the Phantom. "Don't be downcast, ladies," Carthew said, gaily. "We have a long way to go yet, and once round the point we shall have to turn till we pass the Needles." The sea was now getting a good deal rougher. The wind was against tide, and the yachts began to throw the spray over the bows. Bertha was struck with the confidence with which Carthew had spoken, and watched him closely. "We shall get it a good deal worse off St. Catherine's Head," he went on. "There is a race there even in the calmest weather, and I should advise you to get your wraps ready, for the spray will be flying all over her when we get into it." They were now working tack and tack, but the Osprey was still improving her position, and as they neared St. Catherine's Head she was a good quarter of a mile to the good. Still Carthew maintained his good temper, but Bertha could see that it was with an effort. He seemed to pay but little attention to the sailing of the Phantom, but kept his eyes intently fixed upon the Osprey. "I should not be surprised at some of us carrying away a spar before long," he said. "The wind is freshening, and we shall have to shift topsails and jibs, I fancy." They were now lying far over, and the water was two or three planks up the lee deck. Each time the cutter went about, the ladies carried their footstools up to windward, when the vessel was for a moment on an even keel. When there they were obliged to sit with one hand over the rail, to prevent themselves from sliding down to leeward as the vessel heeled. "There goes the Chrysalis's topmast," the skipper exclaimed suddenly. "That does for her chance. I think I had better get the jib header ready for hoisting, Mr. Carthew; the spar is bending like a whip." "Yes, I think you had better get it up at once, captain. It is no use running any risk." As the Phantom's big topsail came down, the Osprey's was seen to flutter and then to descend. "He has only been waiting for us," the captain said. Carthew made no reply. He was still intently watching the craft ahead. "It is just as well for him," the captain went on. "He will be in the race directly." Bertha was still watching Carthew's face. Cheerful as his tones were, there was an expression of anxiety in it. Three minutes later, he gave an exclamation as of relief, and a shout rose from the men forward. Following the direction of his eyes, she saw the bowsprit of the Osprey swing to leeward, and a moment later her topmast fall over her side. "What did I tell you?" Carthew said, exultingly. "A race is never lost till it is won." "Oh! I am sorry," Bertha said. "I do think it is hard to lose a race by an accident." "Every yacht has to abide by its own accidents, Miss Greendale; and carrying away a spar is one of the accidents one counts on. If it were not for that risk, yachts would always carry on too long. It is a matter of judgment and of attention to gear. The loss of a spar is in nine times out of ten the result either of rashness or of inattention. "However, I am sorry myself; that is to say, I would prefer winning the cup by arriving first at the flag boat. However, I am certainly not disposed to grumble at Fortune just at present." "I should think not, Mr. Carthew," Lady Olive said. "I am sure I congratulate you very heartily. Of course, I have seen scores of races, and whenever there is any wind someone is always sure to lose a spar, and sometimes two or three will do so. I don't think you need fear any of the boats behind." "No, yet I don't feel quite safe. I have no fear of any of the cutters, but once round the Needles, it will be a broad reach, and you will see that the schooners will come up fast, and I have to allow them a good bit of time. However, I think we are pretty safe." Chapter 9. The Phantom presently came along close to the Osprey, and Carthew shouted: "Is there anything that I can do for you?" "No, thank you," Frank replied. Then Bertha called out: "I am so sorry." Frank waved his hand in reply. The men were all busy trying to get the wreckage alongside. The cross-trees had been carried away by the fall of the topmast, and her deck forward was littered with gear. The difficulty was greatly increased by the heavy sea in the race. "As soon as you have got everything on board, Hawkins, we will put a couple of reefs in the mainsail. She will go well enough under that and the foresail. If the mizzen is too much for her, we can take it off." It was nearly half an hour before all was clear, and the last of the yachts in the race had passed them before the leeward sheet of the foresail was hauled aft, and the Phantom resumed her course. As soon as she did so, the captain came aft with part of the copper bar of the bobstay. "There has been foul play, sir," he said. "I thought there must have been, for I could not imagine that this bar would have broken unless there had been a flaw in the metal or it had been tampered with. I unshackled it myself, for I thought it was better that the men should not see it until I had told you about it." "Quite right, Hawkins. Yes, there is no doubt that there has been foul play. The bar has been sawn three-quarters of the way through with a fine saw, and, of course, it went as soon as she began to dip her bowsprit well into it in the race. You see, whoever has done it has poured some acid into it, and darkened the copper, partly perhaps to prevent the colour of the freshly-cut metal from being noticed, and partly to give it the appearance, after it was broken, of being an old cut." "It cannot have been that, sir, for we were out in quite as rough a sea as this last week, and the bowsprit would have gone then if this cut had been there. Besides, we should have been sure to have noticed it when we went round her to polish up her sides." "I don't know about that, Hawkins. You see, the cut is from below, and it is only two or three inches above the waterline. It might very well have been there without being noticed. Still, I agree with you, it could not have been there last week, or it must have gone when she put her nose into it then. In point of fact, I have no doubt that it was done last night or the night before. It could easily have been managed. Of course, everyone was below, both here and in the yachts lying round us, and a man might very well have come out in a small boat between one and two o'clock in the morning, and done this without being noticed." "He might have done that, sir, but we should have heard the grating down in the forecastle." "I don't know, Hawkins. A fine steel saw, such as burglars use, will work its way through an iron bar almost noiselessly, and I should say that it would go through copper almost as easily as it would through hard wood. It is as well to say nothing to the crew about it, but I think it my duty to lay the matter before the club committee, and they can do as they like about it. Mind, I don't say for a moment that it was done by anyone on board the Phantom. It may have been someone on shore who had laid a bet of a few pounds against us, and wanted to make sure of winning his money. Besides, the Phantom might very well have hoped to have beaten us fairly, for she was just as much fancied as we were. Take it below, and lay it in my cabin, and when we get in unshackle the other bit of the bar, and put it with this." It was impossible, however, when the bowsprit and bobstay were brought on board, that the crew should have failed to notice the break in the bar, and the news that there had been foul play had at once been passed round. Seeing the angry faces of the men, and the animated talk forward, Frank told the captain to call all hands aft. "Look here, my men," he said. "I see that you are all aware of what has taken place. It is most disgraceful and unfortunate, and I need hardly say that I am as much vexed as yourselves at losing the Cup, which, but for that, we must have carried off. However, it is one of those cases in which there is nothing to be done, and we should only make things worse by making a fuss about it. We have no ground whatever for believing that it was the work of one of the Phantom's crew, and it is far more likely that it was the work of some longshore loafer who had laid more than he could afford against us. It has partly been our own fault, but we shall know better in future, and your captain will take good care that there shall be an anchor watch set for two or three nights before we sail another race. "What I have called you up for is to beg of you not to make this an occasion for disputes or quarrels ashore. Hitherto I have been proud of the good behaviour of my crew, and I should be sorry indeed to hear that there was any row ashore between you and the Phantom's men. They at least have nothing to boast of. They have won the Cup, but we have won the honour. We have shown ourselves the better yacht, and should have beaten them by something like a mile, if it had not been for this accident. Therefore it is my express wish and order that you do not show your natural disappointment on shore. You can give the real reason of our defeat, but do not say a word of blame to anyone, for we know not who was the author of the blackguardly act. "Of course, the matter cannot be kept altogether a secret, for it will be my duty to lay it before the committee. I shall make no protest. If they choose to institute an inquiry they must do so, but I shall take no steps in the matter, and it is unlikely in the extreme that we shall ever know who did it. I shall pay you all winning money, for that you did not win was no fault of yours. One thing I will wager, though I am not a betting man, and that is, that the next time we meet the Phantom we shall beat her, by as much as we should have done today, but for this accident." The appearance of the Osprey as she sailed into the anchorage, without topmast or bowsprit, excited great attention; and many of the yachtsmen came on board to inquire how the disaster had happened. To save going through the story a score of times, Frank had the broken pieces of the bobstay bar brought up and laid on the deck near the tiller, and in reply to inquiries simply pointed to them, saying: "I think that tells the tale for itself." All were full of indignation at the dastardly outrage. "What are you going to do, Major?" "I am not going to do anything, except take it ashore and hand it to the Sailing Committee. That it has been cut is certain. As to who cut it, there is no shadow of evidence." "If I were in Carthew's place," one of them said, "I should decline to take the Cup under such circumstances, and would offer to sail the race over again with you as soon as you had repaired damages." "I should decline the offer if he made it," he said, quietly. "It is probable that we shall meet in a race again some day, and then we can fight it out, but for the present it is done with. He has won the Queen's Cup, and I must put up with my accidents." The effect produced by the facts reported to the committee, and their examination of the broken bar, was very great. Such a thing had not been known before in the annals of yachting, and the committee ordered a poster to be instantly printed and stuck up offering a reward of 100 pounds for proof that would lead to the conviction of the author of the outrage. Frank returned on board at once, and sent off a boat, towing behind it the broken bowsprit and topmast to Cowes, with instructions to Messieurs White to have two fresh spars got ready, by the following afternoon if possible. He did not go ashore again until he landed, at half-past ten, at the clubhouse. Every window was lit up, and dancing had begun an hour before. Frank at once obtained a partner, in order to avoid having to talk the unpleasant business over with yachting friends. Presently he sat down by the side of Lady Greendale. "I am so sorry, Frank," she said. "It does seem hard when you had set your mind on it." "I had hoped to win," he said, "but it is not as bad as all that after all. It would have been more mortifying to lose because the Osprey was not fast enough, than to lose from an accident, when she had already proved herself to be the best in the race. You know that I never went in for being a racing yachtsman. I look upon racing as being a secondary part of yachting. I can assure you, I don't feel that I am greatly to be pitied. It might have been better, and it might have been a great deal worse." "Well, I am glad that you take it in that way," she said. "I can assure you that I was greatly upset over it when I heard it." He sat chatting with her for some time. Presently Bertha was brought back by her partner to her mother's side. "Thank you for your hail as you passed us, Miss Greendale. It sounded hearty, and really cheered me up, for just at the moment I was in an exceedingly bad temper, I can assure you. You see, my forebodings came true, and luck was against me." "Not luck," she said, indignantly. "You would have won but for treachery." "Treachery is rather a hard word," he said. "However, it is of no use crying over spilt milk. I have lost, and shall live to fight another day, I hope; and next time I shall win. Still, you know, there is really nothing to grumble at. I have been fortunate altogether this season, and as I bought the Osprey as a cruiser, I have done a great deal better with her than I could have expected." At this moment another partner of Bertha's came up, and was about to carry her off, when she said: "I suppose the Osprey can sail still, Major Mallett?" "Oh, yes. She is a lame duck, you know, but she can get about all right." "Well, why don't you ask mamma and me to take a sail with you tomorrow afternoon?" "I shall be very happy to do so," he said, "but I almost think that you had better wait until she gets her spars. I don't think that they will be finished before tomorrow evening. The men can get to work early in the morning, and we can be here by two o'clock next day." "No, I think that we will come tomorrow, Major Mallett. "It will be a novelty to sail in a cripple, won't it, mamma? "Besides, you know, or you ought to know, that the day after tomorrow is Sunday, and that at present our plans are arranged for going up to town on Monday." "That being so," Frank said with a smile, "by all means come tomorrow. Will you come to lunch, or afterwards?" "Afterwards, I think. We will be down at the club landing stage at half-past two." "Bertha is bent upon taking possession of you tomorrow," Lady Greendale said, smiling, as the girl turned away; "and I shall be glad for her to have a quiet two or three hours out of the racket. A large party is very fatiguing, and I think that it has been too much for her. Yesterday and today she has been quite unlike herself; at one time sitting quiet and saying nothing, at other times rattling away with Miss Haverley and Lady Olive, and absolutely talking down both of them, which I should have thought impossible. She seems to me to be altogether over-excited. I thought it would have been a rest for her to get away for a week from the fag in London, but I am sorry now that we came down altogether. I am a little worried about it, Frank." "Well, the season is drawing towards its end now, Lady Greendale, and if you can get a short time at home no doubt it will do you good. I did not think that Bertha was looking well when I saw her yesterday." Frank danced a couple more dances, and then went to Lady Greendale and said: "Will you make my excuses to Bertha? and tell her that, having shown myself here, so that it might not be thought that I was out of temper at my bad luck, I shall be off. Indeed, I do not feel quite up to entering into the thing. You can understand, dear Lady Greendale, that at present things are going rather hardly with me." She gave him a sympathetic look. "I can understand, Frank," she said; "but here she comes. You can make your excuses yourself." "I can quite understand that you don't care about staying," Bertha said, when he repeated what he had said to her mother. "Well, I will give you the next dance, or, what will be nicer, I will sit it out with you. Ah, here is my partner. "I am afraid I have made a mistake, Mr. Jennings, and have got my card mixed up. Do you mind taking the thirteenth dance instead of this? I shall be very much obliged if you will." Her partner murmured his assent. "Thank you," Frank said, as she took his arm. "Now, shall we go out on the balcony, or on the lawn?" "The lawn, I think. It is a lovely evening, and there is no fear of catching cold. "I am afraid that you are very disappointed," she went on, as they went out. "I am disappointed, too. I told you I wanted the best yacht to win, and it has not done so." "Thank you," he replied, quietly. "I should have liked to have won, just this once, but all along I felt that the chances were against me, and that fortune would play me some trick or other." "It was not fortune. Fortune had nothing to do with it," she said, indignantly. "You were beaten by a crime--by a mean, miserable crime--by the same sort of crime by which you were beaten before." "I have no reason for supposing that there is any connection." "Frank," she broke in, suddenly, and he started as for the first time for years she called him by his Christian name, "you are an old friend of ours, and you promised me that you would always be my friend. Do you think that it is right to be trying to throw dust into my eyes? Don't you think, on the contrary, that as a friend you should speak frankly to me?" Frank was silent for a moment. "On some subjects, yes, Bertha; on others, what has passed between us makes it very difficult for a man to know what he ought to do. But be assured that if I saw you make any fatal mistake, any mistake at least that I believed to be fatal, I should not hesitate, even if I knew that I should be misunderstood, and that I should forfeit your liking, by so doing. This is just one of the cases when I do not feel justified, as yet, in speaking. Carthew is not my friend, and you know it. If I had had no personal feud--for it has become that with him--I should be more at liberty to speak, but as it is I would rather remain silent. I tell you this now, that you may know, in case I ever do meddle in your affairs, how painful it is for me to do so, and how unwillingly I do it. At any rate, there is nothing whatever to connect the accident that took place today with him. The event is one of a series of successes that he has gained over me. It does not affect me much, for though I should have liked to have won today, I don't feel about such matters as I used to. "You see, when a man has suffered one heavy defeat, he does not care about how minor skirmishes may go." They walked up and down in silence for some time, then she said quietly: "The music has stopped. I think, Frank, that I had better go in again. So you will take us tomorrow?" "Certainly," he said. He took her in to Lady Greendale, and then went off to the Osprey. He was feeling in higher spirits than he had done for some time, as he walked up and down the deck for an hour before turning in. It seemed to him that she might not after all accept Carthew, and that he would not be obliged to bring trouble upon her by telling the shameful story. "It will be all the same, as far as I am concerned," he said to himself, "but I am sure that I could stand her marrying anyone else; which, of course, she will do before long, better than Carthew. I hear whispers that he was hard hit at Ascot, though he gives out that he won. Not that that matters much, but it is never a good lookout for a girl to marry a man who gambles, even though she be rich, and her friends take good care to settle her money upon herself. She evidently suspects that he is at the bottom of this trick, and she would hardly think so if she really cared for him. But if she does think so, I fancy that the winning of the Queen's Cup will cost him dearly. "I wonder why she has apparently so set her mind on going out with us tomorrow." Carthew enjoyed his triumph that evening, loudly expressed his indignation and regret at the scandalous affair to which he owed his victory, frankly said that he could hardly have hoped to win the Cup had it not been for that, and expressed his determination to add another hundred pounds to the reward offered by the club for the discovery of the author of the outrage. The men felt that it was hard on a fellow to win the Cup by the breakdown of an opponent in that way, and the ladies admired the sincere way in which he expressed his regrets. He was a good dancer, a good talker, and a handsome man; and as few of them knew Frank, they had no particular interest in his misfortune. He danced only once with Bertha, who said: "As the hero of the occasion, Mr. Carthew, you must be generous in your attentions and please everyone." "I suppose I must obey you, Miss Greendale," he said, "but I had hoped to have had an opportunity of saying something particular to you tonight." "Really?" she answered innocently. "Well, I shall be at home tomorrow morning, and if you come up about eleven you are sure to find me." "Miss Greendale is at the other end of the garden, sir," the servant said, as he enquired for her the next morning. "She asked me to tell you if you called that she was there." With considerable assurance of success, Carthew walked into the garden. She must know what he wanted to say to her, and he had of late felt sure that her answer would be favourable when the question was put. She was sitting on the same bench on which two days before she had heard George Lechmere's story. "You know what I have come for, Miss Greendale," he began at once. "I think that you know how I feel towards you, and how deeply I love you. I have come to ask you to be my wife." "Before I answer you, Mr. Carthew," she said, calmly, "I must ask you to listen to a story. It was told me here two days ago by a man named George Lechmere. Do you know him?" "I seem to have heard his name, though I cannot say where," he replied, surprised at the coolness with which she spoke. "He is a farmer's son, I believe, and he was an interested party, though not the chief actor of the story. The chief actor, I suppose I should say actress, was Martha Bennett. You know her?" Carthew stepped back as if he had received a sudden blow. His face paled, and he gave a short gasp. "I see you know her," she went on. "She was a poor creature, I fancy, and her story is one that has often been told before. She threw away the love of an honest man, and trusted herself to a villain. He betrayed the trust, took her away to America and then cast her off, and she went home to die. Her destroyer did not altogether escape punishment. He was attacked and pelted by her father and his friends in the market place at Chippenham. You see, it all happened in my neighbourhood, and the villain, not daring to show his face in the county again, disposed of his estate." "You don't believe this infamous lie?" Carthew said hoarsely. "How do you know that it is an infamous lie, Mr. Carthew? I have mentioned no names. I have simply told you the story of a hapless girl, whom you once knew. Your face is the best witness that I can require of its truth. Thank God I heard it in time. Had it not been for that I might have been fool enough to have given you the answer you wanted, for I own that I liked you. I am sure now that I did not love you, for had I done so, I should not have believed this tale; or if I had believed it, it would have crushed me. But I liked you. I found you pleasanter than other men, and I even fancied that I loved you. Had I not known this story, I might have married you, and been the most miserable woman alive, for a man who could play the villain to a hapless girl, who could stoop to so mean and dastardly an action as to cripple a rival yacht, is a creature so mean, so detestable, that wretched indeed would be the fate of the woman that married him. "Do not contradict it, sir," she said, rising from her seat now with her face ablaze with indignation. "I was watching you. I had heard that story, and had heard another story of how the boat of an antagonist of yours at Henley had been crippled before a race, and I watched you from the time I came on board. I saw that you were strangely confident; I saw how you were watching for something; I saw the flash of triumph in your face when that something happened; and I was absolutely certain that the same base manoeuvre that had won you your heat at Henley had been repeated in your race for the Queen's Cup. "I don't think, sir, you will want any more specific answer to your question." "You will repent this," he panted, his face distorted by a raging disappointment. "I do not contradict your statements. It would be beneath me to do so; but some day you may have cause to regret having made them." "I may tell you," she said, as she turned, "that it is not my intention to make public the knowledge that I gained of your conduct yesterday. I have no proof save my own absolute conviction, and the knowledge that I have of your past." He did not look round, but walked at a rapid pace down the garden. Half an hour later the Phantom's anchor was got up, and she sailed for Southampton Water. Beyond giving the necessary order to get under way, Carthew did not speak a word until she anchored off the pier, then he went ashore at once and took the next train for town, sending off a telegram before starting. When he got home he asked the servant briefly if Mr. Conking had come. "Yes, sir. He is waiting for you in the dining room." "Well, Carthew, how have things gone off? I see by the papers this morning that you won the Cup, and also that the Osprey's bobstay burst at the right time, and that a great sensation had been caused by the discovery that there had been foul play. "Why, what is the matter with you? You look as black as a thundercloud." "And no wonder. I won the race, but I have lost the girl." "The deuce you have. Why, I thought that you felt quite certain of that." "So I did; and it would have come off all right if some infernal fellow had not turned up, and told her about an old affair of mine that I thought buried and forgotten three or four years ago; and it took me so aback that, as she said, my face was the best evidence of the truth of the story. More than that, she declared that she knew that I was at the bottom of the Osprey's business. However, she has no evidence about that; but the other story did the business for me, and the game is all up in that quarter. There never was such bad luck. She as much as told me that, if I had proposed to her before she had heard the story, she would have said yes." "No chance of her changing her mind?" "Not a scrap." "It is an awkward affair for you." "Horribly awkward. Yes, I have only got fifteen thousand left, and unless things go right at Goodwood I shall be cleaned right out. I calculated that everything would be set right if I married this girl. Things have gone badly of late." "Yes, your luck has been something awful. It did seem that with the pains that we took, and the way I cleared the ground for you by bribing jockeys and so on, we ought to have made pots of money. Of course, we did pull off some good things, but others we looked on as safe, and went in for heavily, all turned out wrong." "Well, there will be nothing for me but to get across the Channel unless, as I say, things go right at Goodwood." "I should not be nervous about it, for unless there is some dark horse I feel sure that your Rosney has got the race in hand." "Yes, I feel sure of that, too. We have kept him well back all the season, and never let him even get a place. It ought to be a certainty." Then they sat some time smoking in silence. "By gad, I have half a mind to carry her off," Carthew broke out, suddenly. "It is the only way that I can see of getting things straightened out. She acknowledged that she liked me before she heard this accursed story, and if I had her to myself I have no doubt that I could make her like me again in spite of it." "It is a risky thing to carry a woman off in our days," Conkling said, thoughtfully, "and a deuced difficult one to do. I don't see how you are going to set about it, or what in the world you would do with her, and where you would put her when you had got her. I have done some pretty risky things for you in my time, Carthew, but I should not care about trying that. We might both find ourselves in for seven years." "Well, you would have as much as that for getting at a horse, and I don't know that you wouldn't for bribing a jockey. Still, I see that it is an uncommonly difficult thing." For five minutes nothing more was said; then Conkling suddenly broke the silence. "By Jove, I should say that the yacht would be just the thing." "That is a good idea, Jim; a first-rate idea if it could be worked out. It would want a lot of scheming, but I don't see why it should not be done. If I could once get her on board, I could cruise about with her for any time, until she gave in." "You would have to get a fresh crew, Carthew. I doubt whether your fellows would stand it." "No, I suppose some of them might kick. At any rate, I would not trust them. No, I should have to find a fresh crew. Foreigners would be best, but it would look uncommonly rum for the Phantom to be cruising about with a foreign crew. Besides, I know men in almost every port I should put into." "Couldn't you alter her rig, or something of that sort, so that she could not be recognised? It seems to me that if you were to take her across to some foreign port, pay off the crew there and send them home, then get her altered and ship a foreign crew, you might cruise about as long as you liked, especially abroad, without a soul being any the wiser; and the girl must sooner or later give in, and if she would not you could make her." "That is a big idea, Jim. Yes, if I once got my lady on board you may be sure that she would have to say yes sooner or later. I don't often forgive, and it would be a triumph to make her pay for the dressing down she gave me this morning. Besides, I am really fond of her, and I could forgive her for that outbreak, which I suppose was natural enough, after we were married, and there is no reason why we should not get on very well together. "I tell you what, I will go down the first thing tomorrow to Southampton, and will sail at once for Ostend. There I will pay her off, alter her rig, and ship a fresh crew. I will draw my money from the bank. If things go well, I shall be set up again. If they go badly, there will be some long faces at Tattersall's on settling day, but I shall be away, and the money will be enough if we have to cruise for a couple of years, or double that, before she gives in. "I shall try mild measures for a good bit; be very respectful and repentant and all that. If I find after a time that that does not fetch her, I must try what threats will do. Anyhow, she won't leave until she steps on shore to be married, or safer still, till I can get a clergyman on board to marry us there. Would you like to go with us?" "If the thing bursts up, there is nothing I should like better." "You will have to help me carry her off, Jim, and the day that she signs her name Bertha Carthew I will give you a couple of thousand pounds." "That is a bargain," the man said. "It is a good scheme altogether, if we can hit upon some plan for carrying her away." "It is of no use to think of that, until we know where she will be. I don't see at present how it is to be done, but I know that there is always a way if one can think of it. You telegraph to me every day Poste Restante, Ostend, or wherever I am stopping. I will send you the name of the hotel I put up at directly I get there. You had better send someone down at once to Ryde to let you know what she is doing, and when she comes up to town; it is just on the cards that they may not come for a bit, but may go for a cruise in Mallett's yacht, as they did last autumn. Anyhow, let me know, and if I telegraph for you to come over, cross by the next boat. "Likely enough I may run over myself as soon as I get the business there going all right; but of course I shall stay there if I can. I should get it done in half the time if I were present to push things on. Of course, you will run down and see how the horse is getting on, and pick up any information that you can, and let me know about it." "I will put that into good hands, Carthew. It is better that I should stay here and watch things at Tattersall's; then I can keep you informed how things are looking every day, and be ready to start as soon as I get your telegram. But, of course, you won't do anything until after the race is run." "No, I feel as safe as a man can as to Rosney, but even if he wins I shall carry my idea out. I have had enough of the turf, and burnt my fingers enough over it, and I shall be glad to settle down as a country gentleman again. If I lose I shall make a private sale of all my horses before I leave the course. That ought to bring me in another seven or eight thousand pounds for our trip." Chapter 10. "There is the Phantom getting under way," the skipper said, as his turn up and down the deck brought him close to Frank. "So she is. I saw her owner go ashore less than an hour ago." "Yes; he came on board again five minutes ago. The men began to bustle about directly he got on deck. I do hope they won't put in again as long as we are here. The hands are as savage as bulls, and though they remembered what you told them, and there were no rows on shore last night, I shall be glad when we ain't in the same port with the Phantom, for I am sure that if two or three men of each crew were to drop in to the same pub, there would be a fight in no time. And really I could not blame them. It is not in human nature to lose a race like that without feeling very sore over it. I hope she is off. Anyhow, as we are going to Cowes this evening, it will be a day or two before the hands are likely to run against each other, and that will give them time to cool down a bit. "There is one thing. I bet the Phantom won't enter against us at Cowes. If we were to give them a handsome beating there, it would show everyone that they would have had no chance of winning the Cup if it had not been for the accident." "No, I don't suppose that we shall meet again this season, and indeed I don't know that I shall do any more racing myself, except that I shall feel it as a sort of duty to enter for the Squadron's open race. "I think, by the course she is laying, that the Phantom is off to Southampton. Perhaps she is going to meet somebody there. Anyhow, she is not likely to be back until we have started for Cowes." Frank sat for some time with the paper in his hand, but, although he glanced at it occasionally, his mind took in nothing of its contents. Again and again he watched the Phantom. Yes, she was certainly going to Southampton Water. From what Bertha had said to him the evening before, he had received a strong hope that she would reject Carthew. Nothing was more probable than that he should have gone ashore that morning, fresh from his victory, to put the question to her, and his speedy return and his order to make sail as soon as he got on deck certainly pointed to the fact that she had refused him. A load of care seemed to be lifted from Frank's mind. From the first, when he had found that Carthew was a visitor at Lady Greendale's, he had been uncomfortable. He knew the man's persevering nature, and recognised his power of pleasing when he desired to do so. He was satisfied that, when he himself was refused, the reason Bertha gave him was, as far as she knew, the true one; but he had since thought that possibly she might then, although unsuspected by herself, have been to some extent under the spell of Carthew's influence. When she had declined two unexceptional offers, he had been almost convinced that Carthew, when the time came, would receive a more favourable answer. But he had watched them closely on the few occasions when he had seen them together in society, and, certain as he had felt at other times, he had come away somewhat puzzled, and said to himself: "She is captivated by his manner, as any girl might be, but I doubt whether she loves him." This impression, however, had always died out in a short time, and he had somehow come to accept the general opinion unquestioningly, that she would accept Carthew when he proposed. He had been prepared to face the alternative of either suffering her to marry a scoundrel, or of taking a step more repugnant to him, which would probably end by an entire breach of his friendship with the Greendales, that of telling them this story. He was therefore delighted to find that the difficulty had been solved by Bertha herself without his intervention, and felt absolutely grateful for the accident which had cost him the Queen's Cup, but had at the same time opened Bertha's eyes to the man's true character. Soon after two o'clock he went ashore in the gig, and at the half hour Lady Greendale and Bertha came down. "The Osprey looks like a bird shorn of its wings," he said, as he handed them into the boat; "and though the men have made everything as tidy as they could, the two missing spars quite spoil her appearance." "That does not matter in the least, Frank," Lady Greendale said. "We know how she looks when she is at her best. We shall enjoy a quiet sail in her just as much as if she were in apple-pie order." "You look fagged, Lady Greendale, though you are pretty well accustomed to gaiety in town." Lady Greendale did indeed look worn and worried. For the last two or three days, Bertha's manner had puzzled her and caused her some vague anxiety. That morning the girl had come in from the garden and told her that she had just refused Mr. Carthew, and, although she had never been pleased at the idea of Bertha's marrying him, the refusal had come as a shock. Personally she liked him. She believed him to be very well off, but she had expected Bertha to do much better, and she by no means approved of his fondness for the turf. She had been deeply disappointed at the girl's refusal of Lord Chilson, on whom she had quite set her mind. The second offer had also been a good one. Still, she had reconciled herself to the thought of Bertha's marrying Carthew. His connection with the turf had certainly brought him into contact with a great many good men, he was to be met everywhere, and she could hardly wonder that Bertha should have been taken with his good looks and the brilliancy of his conversation. The refusal, then, came to her not only as an absolute surprise, but as a shock. She considered that Bertha had certainly given him, as well as everyone else, reason to suppose that she intended to accept him. Many of her intimate friends had spoken to her as if the affair was already a settled matter, and when it became known that Bertha had refused him, she would be set down as a flirt, and it would certainly injure her prospects of making the sort of match that she desired. She had said something of all this to the girl, and had only received the reply: "I know what I am doing, mamma. I can understand that you thought I was going to marry him. I thought so myself, but something has happened that has opened my eyes, and I have every reason to be thankful that it has. I dare say you think that I have behaved very badly, and I am sorry; but I am sure that I am doing right now." "What have you discovered, Bertha? I don't understand you at all." "I don't suppose you do, mamma. I cannot tell you what it is. I told him that I would not tell anybody." "But you don't seem to mind, Bertha; that is what puzzles me. A girl who has made up her mind to accept a man, and who finds out something that seems to her so bad that she rejects him, would naturally be distressed and upset. You seem to treat it as if it were a matter of no importance." "I don't quite understand it myself, mamma. I suppose that my eyes have been opened altogether. At any rate, I feel that I have had a very narrow escape. I was certainly very much worried when I first learned about this, two days ago, and I was even distressed; but I think that I have got over the worry, and I am sure that I have quite got over the distress." "Then you cannot have cared for him," Lady Greendale said, emphatically. "That is just the conclusion that I have arrived at myself, mamma," Bertha said, calmly. "I certainly thought that I did, and now I feel sure that I was mistaken altogether." Lady Greendale could say nothing further. "I had better send off a note to Frank, my dear," she said, plaintively. "Of course you are not thinking of going out sailing after this." "Indeed, I am, mamma. Why shouldn't we? Of course I am not going to say anything here of what has happened. If he chooses to talk about it he can, but I don't suppose that he will. It is just the end of the season, and we need not go back to town at all, and next spring everyone will have forgotten all about it. You know what people will say: 'I thought that Greendale girl was going to marry Carthew. I suppose nothing has come of it. Did she refuse him I wonder, or did he change his mind?' And there will be an end of it. The end of the season wipes a sponge over everything. People start afresh, and, as somebody says--Tennyson, isn't it? or Longfellow?--they 'let the dead past bury its dead.'" Lady Greendale lifted her hands in mild despair, put on her things, and went down to the boat with Bertha. "I have brought a book, mamma," the latter said as they went down. "I shall tell Frank about this, though I shall tell no one else. I always knew that he did not like Mr. Carthew. So you can amuse yourself reading while we are talking." "You are a curious girl, Bertha," her mother said, resignedly. "I used to think that I understood you; now I feel that I don't understand you at all." "I don't know that I understand myself, mamma, but I know enough of myself to see that I am not so wise as I thought I was, and somebody says that 'When you first discover you are a fool it is the first step towards being wise,' or something of the sort. "There is Major Mallett standing at the landing, and there is the gig. I think that she is the prettiest boat here." The mainsail was hoisted by the time they reached the side of the yacht, and the anchor hove short, so that in two or three minutes they were under way. "She looks very nice," Lady Greendale said. "I thought that she would look much worse." "You should have seen her yesterday, mamma, when we passed her, with the jagged stumps of the topmast and bowsprit and all her ropes in disorder, the sails hanging down in the water and the wreckage alongside. I could have cried when I saw her. At any rate, she looks very neat and trim now. "Where is the Phantom, Major Mallett?" "She got under way at eleven o'clock, and has gone up to Southampton," he replied, quietly, but with a half-interrogatory glance towards her. She gave a little nod, and took a chair a short distance from that in which Lady Greendale had seated herself. "Has he gone for good?" Frank asked, as he sat down beside her. "Of course he has," she said. "You don't suppose, after what I told you last night, that I was going to accept him." "I hoped not," he said, gravely. "You cannot tell what a relief it has been to me. Of course, dear, you will understand that so long as you were to marry a man who would be likely to make you happy I was content, but I could not bear to think of your marrying a man I knew to be altogether unworthy of you." "You know very well," she said, "that you never intended to let me marry him. As I said to you last night, I feel very much aggrieved, Major Mallett. You had said you would be my friend, and yet you let this go on when you could have stopped it at once. You let me get talked about with that man, and you would have gone on letting me get still more talked about before you interfered. That was not kind or friendly of you." "But, Bertha," he remonstrated, "the fact that we had not been friends, and that he had beaten me in a variety of matters, was no reason in the world why I should interfere, still less why you should not marry him. When I was stupid enough to tell you that story, years ago, I stated that I had no grounds for saying that it was he who played that trick upon my boat, and it would have been most unfair on my part to have brought that story up again." "Quite so, but there was the other story." "What other story?" Frank asked in great surprise. "The story that George Lechmere came and told me two days ago," she said, gravely. "George Lechmere! You don't mean to say--" "I do mean to say so. He behaved like a real friend, and came to tell me the story of Martha Bennett. "He told me," she went on, as he was about to speak, "that you had made up your mind to tell mamma about it, directly you heard that I was engaged to Mr. Carthew. That would have been something, but would hardly have been fair to me. If I had once been engaged to him, it would have been very hard to break it off, and naturally it would have been much greater pain to me then than it has been now." "I felt that. But you see, Bertha, until you did accept him, I had no right to assume that you would do so. At least so I understood it, and I did not feel that in my position I was called upon to interfere until I learned that you were really in danger of what I considered wrecking your life's happiness." "I understand that," she said, gently, "and I know that you acted for the best. But there are other things you have not told me, Major Mallett--other things that George Lechmere has told me. Did you think that it would have been of no interest to me to know that you had forgiven the man who tried to take your life; and, more than that, had restored his self respect, taken him as your servant, treated him as a friend?" The tears stood in her eyes now. "Don't you think, Frank, that was a thing that I might have been interested to know--a thing that would raise you immeasurably in the eyes of a woman--that would show her vastly more of your real character than she could know by meeting you from day to day as a friend?" "It was his secret and not mine, Bertha. It was known to but him and me. Never was a man more repentant or more bitterly regretful for a fault--that was in my eyes scarcely a fault at all--except that he had too rashly assumed me to be the author of the ruin of the girl he loved. The poor fellow had been half maddened, and was scarce responsible for his actions. He had already suffered terribly, and the least I could do was to endeavour to restore his self respect by showing him that I had entirely forgiven him. Any kindness that I have shown him he has repaid ten-fold, not only by saving my life, but in becoming my most sincere and attached friend. I promised him that I would tell no one, and I have never done so, and no one to this day knows it, save his father and mother. "How then could I tell even you? You must see yourself that it was impossible that I could tell you. Besides, the story was of no interest save to him and me; and above all, as I said, it was his secret and not mine." "I see that now," she said. "Still, I am so sorry, so very sorry, that I did not know it before. "You see, Frank," she went on, after a pause; "we women have to make or unmake our lives very much in the dark. No one helps us, and if we have not a brother to do so, we are groping in the dark. Look at me. Here was I, believing that Mr. Carthew, whom I met everywhere in society, was, except that he kept race horses and bet heavily, as good as other men. He was very pleasant, very good looking, generally liked, and infinitely more amusing than most men one meets. How was I to tell what he really was? "On the other hand, there were you, my dear friend, who, I knew, had shown yourself a very brave soldier, and whom also everyone liked and spoke well of, but of whose real character I did not know much, except on the side that was always presented to me; and now I find you capable of what I consider a grand act of generosity." "You overrate the matter altogether, Bertha. The man shot me by mistake. The fellow he took me for richly deserved shooting. When he found it was a mistake, the poor fellow was bitterly sorry for it. Surely, there was nothing more to be said about it." The girl sat silent for some time. "Well, it is all cleared up now," she said at last. "There is no reason why we should not be friends as of old." "None whatever," he said. "There has been only--" and he stopped short. "Only what, Frank?" "Nothing," he said. "We will be just as we were, Bertha. I will try and be the good elder brother, and scold you and look after you, and warn you, if it should be necessary, until you get under other guidance." "It will be some time," she said, quietly, "before that happens. I have had a sharp lesson." "And did you really care for him much, Bertha?" "I don't think that I really cared for him at all," she said. "That is not the lesson that I was thinking of." He saw the colour mount into her cheeks as she twisted the handkerchief she held into a knot. Then, turning to him, she said: "Frank, are you never going to give me a chance again?" He could not misunderstand her. "Do you mean--can you mean, Bertha?" he said, in a low tone. "Do you mean that if I ask you the same question again you will give me a different answer?" "I did not know then," she said. "I had never thought of it. You took me altogether by surprise, and what I said I thought was true. Afterwards I knew that I had been mistaken. I hoped that you would ask me again, but you did not, and I soon felt that you never would. You tried hard to be as you were before, but you were not the same, and I was not the same. Then I did not seem to care. There were three men who wanted me. I did not care much which it was, but I would not have anyone say that I had married for position--I hated the idea of that--and so I would have taken the third. He was bright and pleasant, and all that sort of thing, and I thought that I could be happy with him, until George Lechmere opened my eyes. Then, of course, that was over; but his story showed me still more what a fool I had been, what a heart I had thrown away, and I said, 'I will at least make an effort to undo the past. I will not let my chance of happiness go away from me merely from false pride. If he loves me still he will forgive me. If not, at least I shall not, all through my life, feel that I might have made it different could I have brought myself to speak a word.'" "I love you as much as ever," Frank said, taking her hand. "I love you more for speaking as you have. I can hardly believe my happiness. Can it be that you really love me, Bertha?" "I think I have proved it, Frank. I do love you. I have known it for some time, but it seemed all too late. It was a grief rather than a pleasure. Every time you came it was a pain to me, for I felt that I had lost you; and it was only when I learned, two days ago, how you could forgive, and that at the same time I could free myself from the chain I had allowed to be wound round me, and which I don't think I could otherwise have broken, that I made up my mind that it should not be my fault if things were not put right between us. "Now let us tell mother." Her hand was still in his, and they went across the deck together. "Mamma," she said, "please put down that book. I have a piece of news for you. Frank and I are going to be married." Lady Greendale sat for a moment, speechless in astonishment. She knew that Bertha had wished to tell him that she had refused Carthew's offer, but that this would come of it she had never dreamt. A year before she had approved of Bertha's rejection of Frank, but since then much had happened. Bertha had shown that she would not marry for position only, and that she would be likely to take her own way entirely in the matter; and, although this was a downfall to the hopes that she had once entertained, Lady Greendale was herself very fond of Frank, and it was at any rate better than having Bertha marry a man of whose real means she was ignorant, and who, as everyone knew, bet heavily on the turf. These ideas flashed rapidly through her mind, and holding out one hand to each, she said: "There is no one to whom I could more confidently entrust her happiness, Frank. God bless you both." Then she betook herself to her pocket handkerchief, for her tears came easily, and on this occasion she herself could hardly have said whether they were the result of pleasure in Bertha's happiness, or regret at the downfall of the air castles she had once built. "I think, Bertha, our best plan will be to go below now," Frank suggested, quietly. "What for?" Bertha asked, shyly. The thing had been done. She felt radiantly happy, but more shocked at her own boldness than she had been when she perpetrated it. "Well, my dear, I thought that perhaps you would rather not kiss me in sight of the whole crew, and certainly I shan't be able to restrain myself much longer." "Then, in that case," she said, demurely, "perhaps we had better go below." It was half an hour before they came on deck again. "Well, my dears," Lady Greendale said, "the more I think of it the better I am pleased. As far as I am concerned, nothing could be nicer. I shall have Bertha within a short drive of me, and it won't be like losing her. "Do you know, Bertha, your father said to me once, 'I would give anything if some day Frank Mallett and our Bertha were to take a fancy to each other. There is nothing I should like more than to have her settled near us, and there is no one I know more likely to make her happy than he would be.' I am sure, dear, that you will be glad to know that your engagement would have had his approval, as it has mine." Bertha bent down and kissed her mother, with tears standing in her eyes. "It will be a great pleasure to us both to have you so near us," Frank said, earnestly. "You know that, having lost my own mother so long ago, I have always looked upon you as more of a mother than anyone else, and have always felt almost as much at home in your house as in my own. "Now, let us sit down and talk it over quietly. In the first place, I propose that on Monday, when you leave Lord Haverley's, you shall both come here for a time. The Solent will be very pleasant for the next fortnight, and we can then take a fortnight's cruise west, and, if you like, land at Plymouth, and go straight home." "I should be very glad," Lady Greendale said at once, rejoiced at the thought that she would thus avoid the necessity of answering any questions about Bertha; "and there will be no occasion at all to speak of this at my cousin's. There might be all sorts of questions asked, and expressions of surprise, and so on. It will be quite time enough to write to our friends after we have been comfortably settled at home for a time. We can talk over all that afterwards." "Yes, and I should think, Lady Greendale, that it would save the trouble of two letters if, while mentioning that Bertha is engaged to your neighbour, Major Mallett, you could add that the marriage will come off in the course of a few weeks. "Don't you think so, Bertha?" "Certainly not," she said, saucily. "It will be quite time to talk about that a long time hence." "Well, I will put off talking about it for a short time, but, you see, I have had a year's waiting already." Very pleasant was the three hours' cruise. No one gave a thought of the missing topmast and bowsprit. There was a nice sailing breeze, and, clipped as her wings were, the Osprey was still faster than the majority of the yachts. As soon as the two ladies had been put ashore, Frank sailed for Cowes. It was too late when they got there for anything to be done that evening, but Frank went ashore with the captain, and found that the spars were all ready to receive the iron work and sheaves from the old ones; and as these had been towed up to the yard to be in readiness, Messieurs White promised that they would arrange for a few hands to come to work early, and that the spars should be brought off by half-past eight on Monday morning. As soon as he had returned in the gig, after putting the ladies ashore at Ryde, Frank had called George Lechmere to him. "It is all right, George, thanks to your interview with Miss Greendale. It was a bold step to take, but it was the best possible thing, and succeeded splendidly, and everything is to be as I wish it." "I am glad, indeed, to hear it, Major, and I hoped that you would have something of the sort to tell me. There was a look about you both that I took to mean that things were going on well." "Yes, George. At first, when she told me that you had told her about that affair at Delhi, I felt that there was really no occasion for you to have said anything about it; but it did me a great deal of good. She made much more of it than there was any occasion for; but, you know, when women are inclined to take a pleasant view of a thing, they will magnify molehills into mountains." "I thought that it would do good, Major. I don't mean that it would do you any good, but that it would do good generally. I had to tell the other story, and that came naturally with it; and, at any rate, she could not but see that there was a deal of difference between the nature of the man who had been so good to me, and that of that scoundrel." "That is just the effect it did have. Well, don't say anything about it forward, at present. The men shall be told later on." By one o'clock on Monday the Osprey was back at Ryde, and at two o'clock the dinghy went ashore with the mate and two of the hands, who waited a quarter of an hour till a vehicle brought down the ladies' luggage. Soon afterwards Frank went ashore in the gig, and brought Lady Greendale and Bertha off. As they went down to their cabin, Bertha, looking into the saloon, saw George Lechmere preparing the tea tray to bring it up on deck. She at once went to him. "I did not thank you before," she said, holding out her hand; "but I thank you now, and shall thank you all my life. You did me the greatest service." "I am glad, indeed, Miss Greendale, that it was so; for I know that the Major would never have been a happy man if this had not come about." For the next fortnight the Osprey was cruising along the coast, getting as far as Torquay, and returning to Cowes. Frank did not enter her for any of the races. Lady Greendale, although a fair sailor, grew nervous when the yacht heeled over far, and even Bertha did not care for racing, the memory of the last race being too fresh in her mind for her to wish to take part in another for the present. Chapter 11. "That is an uncommonly pretty trading schooner, Bertha," Frank Mallett said, as he rose from his chair to get a better look at a craft that was passing along to the eastward. "I suppose she must be in the fruit trade, and must just have arrived from the Levant. I should not be surprised if she had been a yacht at one time. She is not carrying much sail, but she is going along fast. I think they would have done better if they had rigged her as a fore-and-aft schooner instead of putting those heavy yards on the foremast. That broad band of white round her spoils her appearance; her jib boom is unusually long, and she must carry a tremendous spread of canvas in light winds. I should think that she must be full up to the hatches, for she is very low in the water for a trader." The Osprey was lying in the outside tier of yachts off Cowes. The party that had been on board her for the regatta had broken up a week before, and only Lady Greendale and Bertha remained on board. The former had not been well for some days, and had had her maid down from town as soon as the cabins were empty. It had been proposed, indeed, that she and Bertha should return to town, but, being unwilling to cut short the girl's pleasure, she said that she should do better on board than in London; and, moreover, she did not feel equal to travelling. She was attended by a doctor in Cowes, and the Osprey only took short sails each day, generally down to the Needles and back, or out to the Nab. "Yes, she is a nice-looking boat," Bertha agreed, "and if her sails were white and her ropes neat and trim, she would look like a yacht, except for those big yards." "Her skipper must be a lubber to have the ropes hanging about like that. Of course, he may have had bad weather in crossing the bay, but if he had any pride in the craft, he might at least have got her into a good deal better trim while coming in from the Needles. Still, all that could be remedied in an hour's work, and certainly she is as pretty a trader as ever I saw. How did your mother seem this afternoon, Bertha?" "About the same, I think. I don't feel at all anxious about her, because I have often seen her like this before. I think really, Frank, that she is quite well enough to go up to town; but she knows that I am enjoying myself so much that she does not like to take me away. I have no doubt that she will find herself better by Saturday, when, you know, we arranged some time back that we would go up. You won't be long before you come, will you?" "Certainly not. Directly you have landed I shall take the Osprey to Gosport, and lay her up there. I need not stop to see that done. I can trust Hawkins to see her stripped and everything taken on shore; and, of course, the people at the yard are responsible for hauling her up. I shall probably be in town the same evening; but, if you like, and think that your mother is only stopping for you, we will go across to Southampton at once." "Oh, no, I am sure that she would not like that; and I don't want to lose my last three days here. Of course, when we get home at the end of next week, and you are settled down there, too, you will be a great deal over at Greendale, but it won't be as it is here." "Not by a long way. However, we shall be able to look forward to the spring, Bertha, when I shall have you all to myself on board, and we shall go on a long cruise together; though I do think that it is ridiculous that I should have to wait until then." "Not at all ridiculous, sir. You say that you are perfectly happy--and everyone says that an engagement is the happiest time in one's life--and besides, it is partly your own fault; you have made me so fond of the Osprey that I have quite made up my mind that nothing could possibly be so nice as to spend our honeymoon on board her, and to go where we like, and to do as we like, without being bothered by meeting people one does not care for. And, besides, if you should get tired of my company, we might ask Jack Harley and Amy to come to us for a month or so." "I don't think that it will be necessary for us to do that," he laughed. "Starting as we shall in the middle of March, we shan't find it too hot in the Mediterranean before we turn our head homewards; and I think we shall find plenty to amuse us between Gibraltar and Jaffa." "No, three months won't be too much, Frank. Tomorrow is the dinner at the clubhouse, isn't it?" "Yes. I should be sorry to miss that, for having only been just elected a member of the Squadron, I should like to put in an appearance at the first set dinner." "Of course, Frank. I certainly should not like you to miss it." The next evening Frank went ashore to dine at the club. An hour and a half later a yacht's boat came off. "I have a note for Miss Greendale," the man in the stern said, as she came alongside; "I am to give it to her myself." Bertha was summoned, and, much surprised, came on deck. The man handed up the note to her. She took it into the companion, where a light was burning; her name and that of the yacht were in straggling handwriting that she scarcely recognised as Frank's. She tore it open. "My Darling: I have had a nasty accident, having been knocked down just as I landed. I am at present at Dr. Maddison's. I wish you would come ashore at once. It is nothing very serious, but if you did not see me you might think that it was. Don't agitate your mother, but bring Anna with you. The boat that brings this note will take you ashore." Bertha gave a little gasp, and then summoning up her courage, ran down into the cabin. "Mamma, dear, you must spare me and Anna for half an hour. I have just had a note from Frank. He has been knocked down and hurt. He says that it is nothing very serious, and he only writes to me to come ashore so that I can assure myself. I won't stop more than a quarter of an hour. If I find that he is worse than I expect, I will send Anna off to you with a message." Scarcely listening to what her mother said in reply, she ran into her cabin, told Anna to put on her hat and shawl to go ashore with her, and in a minute descended to the boat with her maid. It was a four-oared gig, and the helmsman had taken his place in the stern behind them. Bertha sat cold and still without speaking. She was sure that Frank must be more seriously hurt than he had said, or he would have had himself taken off to the yacht instead of to the surgeon's. The shaky and almost illegible handwriting showed the difficulty he must have had in holding the pencil. The boat made its way through the fleet till it reached the shallow water which they had to cross on their way to the shore. Here, with the exception of a few small craft, the water was clear of yachts. Suddenly the long line of lights along the shore disappeared, and something thick, heavy and soft fell over Bertha's head. An arm was thrown round her, and Anna pressed tightly against her. In vain she struggled. There was a faint, strange smell, and she lost consciousness. An hour passed without her return to the yacht, and Lady Greendale began to fear that she had found Frank too ill to leave, and had forgotten to send Anna back with the message. At last she touched the bell. "Will you tell the captain that I want to speak to him?" "Captain," she said. "I am much alarmed about Major Mallett. That boat that came off here an hour ago brought a note for my daughter, saying that he had been hurt, and she went ashore with her maid to see him. She said that she would be back in a short time, and that if she found that he was badly hurt she would send her maid back with a message to me. She has been gone for more than an hour, and I wish you would take a boat and go ashore, find out how the Major is, and bring me back word at once. He is at Dr. Maddison's. You know the house." The skipper hurried away with a serious face. A little more than a minute after he had left the cabin Lady Greendale heard the rattle of the blocks of the falls. The boat was little more than half an hour away. Lady Greendale, in her anxiety, had told the steward to let her know when it was coming alongside, and went up on deck to get the news as quickly as possible. "It is a rum affair altogether, my lady," Hawkins said, as he stepped on deck. "I went to the doctor's, and he has seen nothing whatever of the Major, and Miss Greendale and her maid have not been to his house at all." Lady Greendale stood for a moment speechless with surprise and consternation. "This is most extraordinary," she said at last. "What can it mean? You are sure that there is no mistake, captain? It was to Dr. Maddison's house she went." "Yes, my lady, there ain't no mistake about that. I have been there to fetch medicine for you two or three times. Besides, I saw the doctor myself." "Major Mallett must have been taken to some other doctor's," she said, "and must have made a mistake and put in the name of Dr. Maddison. His house is some little distance from the club. There may be another doctor's nearer. What is to be done?" "I am sure I do not know, my lady," the captain said, in perplexity. "Where can my daughter and her maid be?" Lady Greendale went on. "They went ashore to go to Dr. Maddison's." "Perhaps, my lady, they might have heard as they went ashore that the Major was somewhere else, or some messenger might have been waiting at the landing stage to take them there direct." "That must be it, I suppose; but it is all very strange. I think the best thing, captain, will be for you to go to the club. They are sure to know there about the accident, and where he is. You see, the landing stage is close to the club, and he might have been just going in when he was knocked down--by a carriage, I suppose." "Like enough he is at the club still, my lady. At any rate, I will go there in the first place and find out. There is sure to be a crowd about the gates listening to the music--they have got a band over from Newport--so that if they do not know anything at the club, there are sure to be some people outside who saw the accident, and will know where the Major was taken. Anyhow, I won't come back without news." Even to Lady Greendale, anxious and alarmed as she was, it did not seem long before the steward came down with the news that the boat was just alongside. This time she was too agitated to go up. She heard someone come running down the companion, and a moment later, to her astonishment, Frank Mallett himself came in. He looked pale and excited. "What is all this, Lady Greendale?" he exclaimed. "The skipper tells me that a letter came here saying that I had been hurt and taken to Dr. Maddison's, and that Bertha and her maid went off at once, and have not returned, though it is more than two hours since they went. I have not been hurt. I wrote no letter to Bertha, but was at dinner at the club when the skipper came for me. What is it all about?" "I don't know, Frank. I cannot even think," Lady Greendale said in an agitated voice. "What can it all mean and where can Bertha be?" and she burst into tears. "I don't know. I can't think," Frank said, slowly. He stood silent for a minute or two, and then went on. "I cannot suggest anything. I will go ashore at once. The waterman at our landing stage must have noticed if two ladies got out there. He could hardly have helped doing so, for it would be curious, their coming ashore alone after dark. Then I will go to the other landing places and ask there. There are always boys hanging about to earn a few pence by taking care of boats. I will be back as soon as I can." The boat was still alongside, and the men stretched to their oars. Th a very few minutes they were at the club landing stage. The waterman here declared that no ladies whatever, unaccompanied by gentlemen, had landed after dark. "I must have seen them, sir," he said, "for you see I go down to help out every party that arrives here. They must have gone to one of the other landing places." But at neither of these could he obtain any information. There were several boys at each of them who had been there for hours, and they were unanimous in declaring that no ladies had landed there after dark at all. He then walked up and down between the watch house and the club. He had, when he landed, intended to go to the police office as soon as he had inquired at the landing stages--the natural impulse of an Englishman who has suffered loss or wrong--but the more he thought it over the more inexpedient did such a course seem to him. It was highly improbable--indeed, it seemed to him impossible--that they could do more than he had in the matter. The passage of two ladies through the crowded streets would scarcely have attracted the attention of anyone, and any idea of violence being used was out of the question. If they had landed, which he now regarded as very improbable, they must have at least gone willingly to the place where they believed they should find him, and unless every house in Cowes was searched from top to bottom there was no chance of finding them, carefully hidden away as they would be. He could not see, therefore, that the police could at present be of any utility whatever. It might be necessary finally to obtain the aid of the police, but in that case it was Scotland Yard and not Cowes that the matter must be laid before; and even this should be only a last resort, for above all things it was necessary for Bertha's sake that the matter should be kept a profound secret, and, once in the hands of the police, it would be in all the papers the next day. If the aid of detectives was to be called in, it would be far better to put it into the hands of a private detective. Having made up his mind upon this point, he returned to the yacht. "I am sorry to say that I have no news," he said to Lady Greendale, who was lying on the couch, worn out with weeping. "I have ascertained almost beyond doubt that they did not land at the club stage or either of the other two landing places." "What can it be?" she sobbed. "What can have become of them?" "I am afraid there is little doubt that they have been carried off," he replied. "I can see no other possible solution of it." "But who can have done such a thing?" "Ah! that is another matter. I have been thinking it over and over, and there is only one man that I know capable of such a dastardly action. At present I won't mention his name, even to you; but I will soon be on his track. Do not give way, Lady Greendale; even he is not capable of injuring her, and no doubt she will be restored to you safe and sound. But we shall need patience. Ah! there is a boat coming alongside." He ran up on deck. It proved, however, to be only a shore boat, bringing off George Lechmere, who, having met a comrade in the town, had asked leave to spend the evening with him. He was, of course, ignorant of all that had happened since he had left, and Frank told him. "I have no doubt whatever that she has been carried off," he said, "and there is only one man who could have done it." "That villain, Carthew," George Lechmere exclaimed. "Yes, he is the man I suspect, George. I heard this evening that he had been hit tremendously hard on the turf at Goodwood. He would think that if he could force Miss Greendale to marry him it would retrieve his fortune, and would, moreover, satisfy his vindictive spirit for the manner in which she had rejected him, and in addition give him another triumph over me." "That is it, sir. I have no doubt that that is it. But his yacht is not here--at least I have not seen her." "No, I am sure that she is not here; but I believe, for all that, that Miss Greendale must have been taken on board a yacht. They never would have dared to land her in Cowes. Of course, I made inquiries as a matter of form at the landing places, but as she knew the way to Dr. Maddison's, and as the streets were full of people at the time she landed, they could never have attempted to use violence, especially as she had her maid with her. On the other hand, it would have been comparatively easy to manage it in the case of a yacht. They had but to row alongside, to seize and gag them before they had time to utter a cry, and then to carry them below. The Phantom is not here--at any rate, was not here this afternoon, but there is no reason why Carthew should not have chartered a yacht for the purpose. Ask the skipper to come aft." "Captain," he said, when Hawkins came aft, "what men went ashore this afternoon?" "Harris and Williams and Marvel, sir. They went ashore in the dinghy, and Harris went to the doctor's for that medicine." "Ask them to come here." "Did anyone speak to you, Harris," he went on, as the three men came aft, "while you were ashore today?--I mean anyone that you did not know." "No, sir," the man said, promptly. "Leastwise, the only chap that spoke to me was a gent as was standing on the steps by the watch house as I went down to the boat, and he only says to me, 'I noticed you go in to Dr. Maddison's, my man. There is nothing the matter with my friend, Major Mallett, I hope.' "'No, sir,' says I, 'he is all right. I was just getting a bottle of medicine for an old lady on board.' "That was all that passed between us." "Thank you, Harris. That is just what I wanted to know." After the men had gone forward again, he said to the captain: "I have a strong conviction, Hawkins, indeed I am almost certain, that Miss Greendale has been carried off to one of the yachts here, but whether it is a large one or a small one I have not the slightest idea. The question is, what is to be done? It is past eleven now, and it is impossible to go round the fleet and make enquiries. Besides, the craft may have made off already. They would have been sure to have placed her in the outside tier, so as to get up anchor as soon as they had Miss Greendale on board." "We might get out the boats, sir, and lie off and see if any yachts set sail," the skipper suggested. "That would be of no use, Hawkins. You could not stop them. Even if you hailed to know what yacht it was, they might give you a false name. "One thing I have been thinking of that can be done. I wish, in the first place, that you would ask all the men if anyone has noticed among the yacht sailors in the streets one with the name of the Phantom on his jersey. Some of them may have been paid off, for she has not been raced since Ryde. In any case, I want two of the men to go ashore, the first thing in the morning, and hang about all day, if necessary, in hopes of finding one of the Phantom's crew. If they do find one, bring him off at once, and tell him that he will be well paid for his trouble. "By the way, you may as well ask Harris what the gentleman was like who spoke to him at the landing place." He walked slowly backwards and forwards with George Lechmere, without exchanging a word, until in five minutes Hawkins returned. "It was a clean-shaven man who spoke to Harris, sir; he judged him to be about forty. He wore a sort of yachting dress, and he was rather short and thin. About the other matter Rawlins says that he noticed when he was ashore yesterday two of the Phantom's men strolling about. Being a Cowes man himself, he knew them both, but as they were not alone he just passed the time of day and went on without stopping." "Does he know where they live? I don't think it at all likely they would be on leave now, or that he would find either of them at home tomorrow morning; but it is possible that he might do so. At any rate it is worth trying. It is curious that two of them should be here when we have seen nothing of the Phantom since the race for the cup, unless, of course, her owner has laid her up, which is hardly likely. If she had been anywhere about here she would have entered for the race yesterday." "I will send Rawlins and one of the other Cowes men ashore at six o'clock, Major. If they don't meet the men, they are safe to be able to find out where they live." "And tell them and the others, Hawkins, that on no account whatever is a word to be said on shore as to the disappearance of Miss Greendale. It is of great importance that no one should obtain the slightest hint of what has taken place." When the captain had again gone forward, Frank went down, and with some difficulty persuaded Lady Greendale to go to bed. "We can do nothing more tonight," he said. "You may well imagine that if I saw the least chance of doing any good I should not be standing here, but nothing can be done till morning." Having seen her to her stateroom, he returned to the deck, where he had told George Lechmere to wait for him. "It is enough to drive one mad, George," he said, as he joined him; "to think that somewhere among all those yachts Miss Greendale may be held a prisoner." "I can quite understand that, Major, by what I feel myself. I have seen so much of Miss Greendale, and she has always been so kind to me, knowing that you considered that I had saved your life, and knowing about that other thing, that I feel as if I could do anything for her. And I feel it all the more because it is the scoundrel I owed such a deep debt to before. But I hardly think that she can be on board one of the yachts here." "I feel convinced that she is not, George. They could hardly keep her gagged all this time, and at night a scream would be heard though the skylights were closed." "No, sir; if she was put on board here I feel sure that they would have got up sail at once." "That is just what I feel. Likely enough they had the mainsail already up and the chain short, and directly the boat was up at the davits they would have got up the anchor and been off. They may be twenty miles away by this time; though whether east or west one has no means of even guessing. The wind is nearly due north, and they may have gone either way, or have made for Cherbourg or Havre. It depends partly upon her size. If she is a small craft, they can't get far beyond that range. If she is a large one, she may have gone anywhere. The worst of it is that unless we can get some clue as to her size we can do absolutely nothing. A good many yachts went off today both east and west, and by the end of the week the whole fleet will be scattered, and even if we do get the size of the yacht, I don't see that we can do anything unless we can get her name too. "If we could do that, we could act at once. I should run up to town, lay the case before the authorities at Scotland Yard, and get them to telegraph to every port in the kingdom, that upon her putting in there the vessel was at once to be searched for two ladies who were believed to have been forcibly carried away in her." "And have those on board arrested, I suppose, Major?" "Well, that would have to be thought over, George. Carthew could not be brought to punishment without the whole affair being made public. That is the thing above all others to be avoided." "Yes, I see that, sir; and yet it seems hard that he should go off unpunished again." "He would not go unpunished, you may be sure," Frank said, grimly; "for if the fellow ever showed his face in London again, I would thrash him to within an inch of his life. However, sure as I feel, it is possible that I am mistaken. Miss Greendale is known to be an only daughter, and an heiress, and some other impecunious scamp may have conceived the idea of making a bold stroke for her fortune. It is not likely, but it is possible." Until morning broke, the two men paced the deck together. Scarcely a word was spoken. Frank was in vain endeavouring to think what course had best be taken, if the search for the men of the phantom turned out unavailing. George was brooding over the old wrong he had suffered, and longing to avenge that and the present one. "Thank God, the night is over," Frank said at last; "and I have thoroughly tired myself. I have thought until I am stupid. Now I will lie down on one of the sofas, and perhaps I may forget it all for a few hours." Sleep, however, did not come to him, and at seven o'clock he was on deck again. "The men went ashore at six, sir," the skipper said. "I expect they will be back again before long." Ten minutes later the dinghy came out between two yachts ahead. "Rawlins is not on board," the skipper said, as they came close. "I told him to send off the instant they got any news whatever. That is Simpson in the stern." "Well, Simpson, what news?" Frank asked as she rowed alongside. "Well, sir, we have found out as how all the Phantom's crew are ashore. Some of the chaps told us that they came back a fortnight ago, the crew having been paid off. Rawlins said that I'd better come off and tell you that. He has gone off to look one of them up, and bring him off in a shore boat. He knows where he lives, and I expect we shall have him alongside in a few minutes." "Do you think that is good news or bad, sir?" George Lechmere asked. "I think that it is bad rather than good," Frank said. "Before, it seemed to me that, whatever the craft was in which she was carried away, she would probably be transferred to the Phantom, which might be lying in Portland or in Dover, or be cruising outside the island, and if I had heard nothing of the Phantom I should have searched for her. However, I suppose that the scoundrel thought that he could not trust a crew of Cowes men to take part in a business like this. But we shall know more when Rawlins comes off." In half an hour the shore boat came alongside with Rawlins and a sailor with a Phantom jersey on. "So you have all been paid off, my lad?" Frank said to the sailor as he stepped on deck. "Yes sir. It all came sudden like. We had expected that she would be out for another month, at least. However, as each man got a month's pay, we had nothing to grumble about; although it did seem strange that even the skipper should not have had a hint of what Mr. Carthew intended, till he called him into his cabin and paid him his money." "And where is she laid up?" "Well, sir, she is at Ostend. I don't know whether she is going to be hauled up there, or only dismantled and left to float in the dock. The governor told the skipper that he thought he might go to the Mediterranean in December, but that till then he should not be able to use her. It seemed a rum thing leaving her out there instead of having her hauled up at Southampton or Gosport, and specially that he should not have kept two or three of us on board in charge. But, of course, that was his affair. Mr. Carthew is rather a difficult gentleman to please, and very changeable-like. We had all made sure that we were going to race here after winning the Cup at Ryde; and, indeed, after the race he said as much to the skipper." "Has he anyone with him?" Frank asked. "Only one gentleman, sir. I don't know what his name was." "What was he like?" "He was a smallish man, and thin, and didn't wear no hair on his face." "Thank you. Here is a sovereign for your trouble. "That is something, at any rate, George," he went on, as the man was rowed away. "The whole proceeding is a very strange one, and you see the description of the man with Carthew exactly answers to that of the man who found out from the boat's crew that Dr. Maddison was attending Lady Greendale; and now you see that it is quite possible that the Phantom is somewhere near, or was somewhere near yesterday afternoon. Carthew may have hired a foreign crew, and sailed in her a couple of days after her own crew came over; or he may have hired another craft either abroad or here. At any rate, there is something to do. I will go up to town by the midday train, and then down to Dover, and cross to Ostend tonight." "Begging your pardon, Major, could not you telegraph to the harbour master at Ostend, asking if the Phantom is there?" "I might do that, George, but if I go over there I may pick up some clue. I may find out what hotel he stopped at after the crew had left, and if so, whether he crossed to England or left by a train for France. There is no saying what information I may light on. You stay on board here. You can be of no use to me on the journey, and may be of use here. I will telegraph to you from Ostend. Possibly I may want the yacht to sail at once to Dover to meet me there, or you may have to go up to town to do something for me. "Now I must go down and tell Lady Greendale as much as is necessary. It will, of course, be the best thing for her to go up to town with me, but if she is not well enough for that, of course she must stay on board." Lady Greendale had just come into the saloon when he went down. "I think I have got a clue--a very faint one," he said. "I am going up to town at once to follow it up. How are you feeling, Lady Greendale?" "I have a terrible headache, but that is nothing. Of course, I will go up with you." "But do you feel equal to it?" "Oh, yes, quite," she said, feverishly. "What is your clue, Frank?" "Well, it concerns the yacht in which I believe Bertha has been carried off. At any rate, I feel so certain as to who had a hand in it, that I have no hesitation in telling you that it was Carthew." "Mr. Carthew! Impossible, Frank. He always seemed to me a particularly pleasant and gentlemanly man." "He might seem that, but I happen to know other things about him. He is an unmitigated scoundrel. Of course, not a word must be said about it, Lady Greendale. You see that for Bertha's sake we must work quietly. It would never do for the matter to get into the papers." "It would be too dreadful, Frank. I do think that it would kill me. I will trust it in your hands altogether. I have only one comfort in this dreadful affair, and that is that Bertha has Anna with her." "That is certainly a great comfort; and it is something in the man's favour that when he enticed her from the yacht with that forged letter he suggested that she should bring her maid." Chapter 12. Frank Mallet and Lady Greendale crossed to Southampton by the twelve o'clock boat, and arrived in London at three. "I have been thinking," she said, as they went up, "that it will be better for me to stop in town. I shall have less difficulty in answering questions there than I should have at home. Everyone is leaving now, and in another week there will be scarcely a soul in London I know; and I shall keep down the front blinds, and no one will dream of my being there. I shall only have to mention to Bertha's own maid that my daughter has remained at Cowes, that I have left Anna with her, and that she can wait upon me until she returns. There will be another advantage in it--you can see me whenever you are in town. I shall get your letters a post quicker when you are away, and you can telegraph to me freely; whereas, if you telegraphed to Chippenham, whoever received the message there might mention its contents as curious to someone or other, and then, of course, it would become a matter of common gossip." Frank agreed that it would certainly be better, and more bearable than having to answer questions about Bertha to every visitor who called on her. He crossed that evening to Ostend, and at ten o'clock next morning George Lechmere received the following message: "Make inquiries as to small brigantine that looked like converted yacht: had very large yards on foremast. I saw her pass Cowes on Tuesday afternoon. Let Hawkins go to Portsmouth and Southampton. Find out yourself whether she anchored between Osborne and Ryde. If not, inquire at Seaview whether she passed there going east. Telegraph result tomorrow morning to my chambers. Shall cross again tonight." Lechmere had the gig at once lowered, and started, with four hands at the oars, eastward, while the captain went ashore in the dinghy to leave for Southampton by the next boat. The tide was against Lechmere, who, keeping close in round the point, steered the boat along at the foot of the slopes of Osborne, and kept eastward until he reached the coast-guard station at the mouth of Wootton creek. "Oh, yes, we noticed her," the boatswain in charge replied in answer to his question. "We saw her, as you say, on Tuesday afternoon, going east. We could not help noticing her, for she was something out of the way. We should not have thought so much of it, if she had not come back again just before dusk the next day, and anchored a mile to the west. We kept a sharp lookout that night, thinking that she might be trying to smuggle some contraband ashore; but everything was quiet, and next morning she was gone. The man who was on the watch said he thought that he made her out with his night glass going east at about eleven o'clock; but it was a dark night, and it might have been a schooner yacht or a brig." "You don't happen to know whether she stopped at Ryde the first time she passed?" "Yes; having been all talking about her, we watched to see if she was going to anchor there or keep on to the east. She lowered a boat as she passed, and two men landed. They threw her up into the wind and waited until the boat came off again. The men did not come back in her. They hoisted the boat up again and went east. She stopped off Seaview; then she came back and sent the boat ashore, and two men went off in her. Of course, I can't say whether they were the same. It was as much as I could do to make out that there were two of them, though our glass is a pretty good one. Is there anything wrong about the craft?" "Not that I know of; but there was a good deal of curiosity about her among the yachts, she being an out-of-the-way sort of craft; and I fancy there were some bets about her. There was an idea that she was seen going west two days later, and the governor asked me to take the boat and find out whether she had been noticed here or at Ryde. Thank you very much for your information. I have no doubt that it will be sufficient to decide any bets there may be about her." So saying, he took his seat in the gig again, and rowed back to the Osprey. The skipper returned in the evening. "No such craft has gone into Southampton or Portsmouth," he said; "so I have had my journey for nothing." "No, I don't think you have," George replied. "It is something to know that she is not in either of the ports now, and has been to neither of them." George returned in time to send off a full account of what he had learned from the coast-guardsman by the mail that would be delivered in London that night. On his return to town the next morning, Frank found the letter awaiting him; and at ten o'clock, after wiring to Hawkins and the steward to stock the yacht at once with provisions of all kinds for a long voyage, he went into the city and called upon the secretary at Lloyd's. After giving his name, he told him that he believed that a young lady had been carried off forcibly in the craft, which he minutely described, and that he was desirous of having a telegram sent to every signal station between Hull and the Land's End, asking if such a craft had passed. "Of course," he added, "I am ready to defray the expense of the telegrams and replies. She left the Solent late on Wednesday evening, and on Thursday would have been between Beachy Head and Dover, if she had gone that way, and yesterday up the Thames or somewhere between Harwich and Yarmouth." "Well, Major Mallett, if you will sit down and write the telegram with the description that you have given, I will send it off at once. Then, if you will call again in an hour's time, I have no doubt all the answers will have come in." "Your craft has gone west," he said when Frank returned. "All the answers the other way are negative. Saint Catherine says: 'Craft answering description was seen well out at sea on Thursday morning.' Portland noticed her in the afternoon, and she was off the Start yesterday morning; the wind was light then; and the Lizard reports seeing her this morning. When abreast of them, she headed south, apparently making a departure, as she could be made out keeping that course as long as seen. These are the four telegrams, so I think that there can be little doubt that she has made for the Mediterranean." "Thank you very much indeed," Frank said. "Can you tell me if I have any chance of getting similar information from the south?" "You could get it from Finisterre if she passed within sight, but by her holding on as far west as the Lizard, instead of taking a departure from the Start, it is likely that she will take a more westerly course, and then Cape St. Vincent is the first point where she is likely to be noticed. If not there, she would probably be observed at Tarifa, although, if she kept on the southern side of the Straits, she might not be noticed. I should think that she would do so; she would not be likely to put into Gibraltar, although, from what you tell me, the owner would believe that no suspicion whatever of being concerned in this affair would be likely to rest upon him. But you must bear in mind that it is probable that, as a measure of precaution, he has painted out the white streak, sent down the yards, and converted her into a fore-and-aft schooner; in which case she would attract no attention whatever if she passed without making her number." "I certainly think that they will convert her back into a schooner yacht, as otherwise there will be a difficulty about papers whenever she enters a port. There is one more thing I wish to ask you. You see, she might not turn into the Mediterranean. She might, for example, make for the West Indies, in which case she would be almost certain to touch at Madeira or Palmas." "Or possibly at Teneriffe, Major. Of course, we have an agent at each of these places, and I will gladly request them, if a brigantine or schooner looking like her puts in there, to find out if possible where she is bound for, and to let you know at--shall I say Gibraltar? I am afraid it is of no use trying to get the Portuguese authorities to arrest the ship or to search her. You see, to a certain extent it is an extradition case. Still, I will ask them to get it done if possible, though I fear that it is quite beyond their power." "Thank you very much indeed. It would be an immense thing only to find out that she has gone in that direction. Of course, she may not put in at any of these places, as she is sure to have provisioned for a long voyage, but at any rate I will wait at Gibraltar until I get the letters, unless I can get some clue that she has gone up the Mediterranean. "Of course, if I don't hear of her at Cape Saint Vincent or Tarifa, I shall try Ceuta and Tangier. If she goes up on the southern side of the Straits, she may anchor off either, and send a boat in to get fresh meat and fruit." "The Royal mail and the mail down the African coast will start, one tomorrow, the other on Monday, and I will send letters by them to the islands. They are sure to get there before this craft that you are in search of, and our agents will be on the lookout for her. It may not be long before you hear from Madeira, but it may be some time before you get the other letters, as the craft may be anything between three weeks and five in getting there. Of course, I shall mention when she sailed, and they will not write until all chance of her having arrived is passed." "Would you kindly give me the addresses of your three agents? I will wait for the answer from Madeira, but I am afraid my patience will never hold out until the others can come. It will be giving the schooner a fearfully long start as it is, and as you may suppose I shall be almost mad at having to wait and do nothing." The secretary wrote the three addresses, and, thanking him very warmly for his kindness and courtesy, Frank went out and despatched a telegram to the skipper, telling him to engage ten extra hands at once, and to buy muskets and cutlasses for the whole crew. "I shall come down by the twelve o'clock train from town. Be at the steamboat pier to meet me. If all is ready, shall sail at once." Having despatched this, he drove at once to Lady Greendale's, and told her that he had learnt that the craft in which Bertha had been carried off had sailed for the south, probably the Mediterranean, and that he should start that evening in pursuit. "It may be a long chase, Lady Greendale, but never fear but that I will bring her back safely. It will be for you to decide whether you will continue to remain here, or go down into the country after a time; but, of course, there is no occasion for you to make up your mind now. I must be off at once, for I have several things to do before I catch the twelve o'clock train." "God bless you, Frank!" she said. "You are looking terribly worn and fagged." "I shall be all right when I am once fairly off," he said. "I have not had an hour's sleep for the last two nights, and not much the night before. At first the whole thing seemed hopeless; now that I am fairly on the track and know what I have to do, I shall soon be all right again." "I don't know what I should have done without you, Frank; and I do believe that you will succeed." "I have no doubt about it," he said; "so keep your courage up, mother--for you know that you are almost that to me now." He kissed her affectionately, and then hurried downstairs and drove to his chambers. Here he packed a portmanteau with Indian suits and underclothing, took his pistol and rifle cases, drove to a gunmaker's in the Strand for a stock of ammunition, called at his bank and cashed a cheque for two thousand pounds, and then drove to Waterloo. Hawkins and George Lechmere were on the landing stage at Cowes. "How are things going on, Hawkins?" Frank asked, as he came across the gangway. "All right, sir. I have had my hands pretty full, sir, since I got your second telegram. Lechmere saw to getting the arms. Of course, he could not help me as to hiring the hands. I think I have got ten first-class men. A few of the yachts have paid off already, and I know something about all of those I have engaged. While I was ashore, the mate looked after getting on board and stowing the goods as they came alongside." "Quite right, Hawkins. Did you think of ammunition, George?" "Yes, Major; I was not likely to forget that. I got twenty-five muskets and cutlasses. Luckily they kept them at Pascal Aikey's, for the use of steam yachts going out to the east; and they had ammunition too, so I got fifty rounds for each musket. It is not likely that we shall want to use that much, but it is best to be on the right side." "I think, sir," Hawkins said, "as it is going to be a long voyage, and as we have doubled our crew, that I had better get another mate. Purvis is a very good man, but he is no navigator; and we shall have to keep watches regularly. I met an old shipmate of mine just now who would be just the man. He commanded the Amphitrite for ten years, and I know that he is a good navigator. He has been up in the Scotch waters since the spring, and was paid off last week. I told him that it might be that I could give him a berth as second mate, and he jumped at it." "By all means, Hawkins; of course you will want an officer for each watch. You can find him without loss of time, I hope." "Yes, sir. I have told him to hang about outside the gate here, and I would give him an answer." "Very well. When you have seen him you will find me at Aikey's. I have to go there to get a lot of charts. I have only those for British waters. "George, do you see to getting these traps down to the boat. I shall be there in a quarter of an hour. Is there anything else that you can think of, or that you want yourself?" "Nothing, sir." "When you go on board, you may as well get your traps in one of the spare cabins aft. "You had better move, too, captain. You and one of the mates can have the stern cabin. For the present the other mate can have yours, and the steward can sleep in the saloon. That will make more room for the extra hands forward." "It will be a tight stow, sir," the captain said. "I have ordered ten more hammocks and hooks, but I doubt whether there will be room to sling them all." "I am sure there won't, Hawkins. You had better put the hooks in the saloon beams, and swing five or six of the hammocks there. We can take the hooks out and stop up the holes when we don't need them any longer. We may be having hot weather before we have done, and I don't want the men crowded too closely forward." Twenty minutes later Frank came down to the boat with the skipper, carrying a large roll of charts, and a man with a handcart containing a bundle of jerseys and caps, and fifty white duck trousers. A large shore boat was alongside when they reached the Osprey. "Is this the last lot?" the captain asked the man in charge of the pile of casks and boxes with which it was filled. "Yes, sir, this is the last batch." "Get them on deck, Hawkins," Frank said, "and we can get them down and stowed when we are under sail. Get the anchor short at once, the sail covers off and the mainsail up. "I don't want to lose a minute," he went on, turning to George Lechmere. "I know that an hour or even a day will make no material difference, but I am in a fever to be off." "Have you found out which way they have gone, Major?" "I have found out that they have sailed for the south, but whether for the Mediterranean or for the West Indies or South America I have no idea; but I have some hopes of finding out by the time we get to Gibraltar." "And they have got a three days' start of us?" "Yes, I can hardly believe that it is not more. It seems to me a fortnight since I went ashore to dine at the club. Three days is a long start, and unless the change of rig has spoiled her, the Phantom is as fast, or very nearly as fast, as we are. We can't hope to catch her up, unless she stops for two or three days in a port, and that she is certain not to do. No, I don't think that there is any chance of our overtaking her until she has got to whatever may be her destination. Of course, what Carthew counts upon is that, in time, he will get Miss Greendale to consent to marry him. That is one reason why I think that he will not go up the Mediterranean. The further he takes her the more hopeless the prospect will seem to her." "But she will never give in, Major," George Lechmere said, confidently. "I have no fear of that--no fear whatever, and we may be quite sure that as long as he thinks that he will be able to tire her out he will show himself in his best light, and try to make everything as pleasant for her as is possible under the circumstances. It is only when he loses all hope of her consenting willingly that he will show himself in his true light; and you know, George, he is scoundrel enough for anything. However, I consider that she is perfectly safe for a long time, and I hope to be alongside the craft long before he becomes desperate." Half an hour later, the anchor was on the rail and the Osprey started on her voyage. The tide being in her favour, she passed the Needles just as it was getting dark. The breeze fell very light, and, although every stitch of canvas was put on, she was still some miles east of Portland when morning broke. As the sun rose the wind freshened a bit, and she moved faster through the water. The hands were mustered and divided into two watches, and the jerseys and red caps served out to the new hands. "You had better give them the whole of the duck trousers, to fit themselves from, Captain," Frank said. "There are assorted sizes, you know, and when they have suited themselves you can take the other ten pairs into store. You and the mates will want some when we get into warmer climates." "Are we bound for the Mediterranean?" Hawkins asked. "To Gibraltar, to begin with. What we shall do afterwards will depend upon what news I get there. We may have to go round the world, for all I know." "Well, sir, I hope not, for your sake, and the young lady's; but as far as we are concerned, we would as lief go round the world as anything else, though she is not a very big craft for such a journey as that." "How long will the water tanks hold out?" "That is where the pinch will come in, sir. I reckon that at ordinary times we might make shift to go on for three weeks without filling up, but, you see, we have twenty hands instead of ten, and that will make all the difference.. I did get ten good-sized casks yesterday morning, and got them filled as well as the tanks. They are stowed away forward, but they won't improve her speed. They have brought her head down over two inches, but, of course, we shall use the water in them first." "You had better bring them amidships, captain, and stow them round the saloon skylight. Appearances are of no consequence whatever, and the great thing is to get her in her best sailing trim. If bad weather comes on, we must put half in the bow and half in the stern, where we can wedge them in tightly together. It would not do to risk having them rolling about the decks. "Well, then," he went on, seeing that the captain did not like the thought of having weight at each end of the yacht, "if the weather gets bad we will take the saloon skylight off, and lower them down into it. I can eat my meals on deck or in my stateroom, but the water we must keep. If we get a spell of head winds or calms, we may be three weeks getting to Gib." "That would be a very good plan, sir, if you can do without the saloon, and don't mind its being littered up." "Well, I hope we shan't get any bad weather until we get well across the bay, Hawkins. I don't mind the discomfort, but it would stop her speed. We want a wind that will just let us carry all our canvas. We can travel a deal faster so than we can in heavy weather, when we might be obliged to get down the greater part of our canvas and perhaps to lie to. "It looks like a strong crew, doesn't it?" he went on, as he glanced forward. "That it does, sir. A craft of this size can do well with more when she is racing, but for a crew it is more than one wants, a good deal; and people would stare if we went into an English port. Still, I don't say that it is not an advantage to be strong-handed if we get heavy weather, and it makes light work of getting up sail or shifting it, and one wants to shift pretty often when he is trying to get high speed out of a craft." The wind continued fitful, and, in spite of having her racing sails, the Osprey's run to the Start was a long one. It was not until thirty-six hours after getting up anchor that they were abreast of the lighthouse. "I try to be patient, George," Mallett said, "but it is enough to make a saint swear. We have lost eight or ten hours instead of making a gain, although we had the advantage of coming through the Needles passage, while they had to go round at the back of the island to escape observation." "Yes, sir, but you know we have often found that sometimes one, sometimes another, makes a gain in these shifty winds; perhaps tomorrow we may be running along fast, and the Phantom be lying without a breath of wind." "That is so, George. I will try to bear it in mind. There, you see, the skipper is taking the exact bearing of the lighthouse, and we shall soon be heading south." In five minutes the captain gave the order to the helmsman, and the craft was then laid on her new course. "The wind is northing a bit," the skipper said as, after giving the helmsman instructions, he came up to Frank. "It has shifted two points round in the last half hour, and you see we have got the boom off a bit. If it goes round a point more we will get the square-sail ready for hoisting. It will help her along rarely when the head-sails cease to be of any good." Half an hour later the wind had gone round far enough for the square-sail to be used to advantage, and it was accordingly hoisted. The captain then had the barrels brought aft, and ranged along each side of the bulwark. For eight-and-forty hours the Osprey maintained her speed, leaving all the sailing vessels she overtook far behind her, and keeping for hours abreast of a cargo steamer going in the same direction. "She is bound for Finisterre," the skipper said, "and we shall pass it some thirty miles to the west, so our courses will gradually draw apart; but we shall see her smoke anyhow until we are pretty nigh abreast of the cape--that is, if the wind holds as it is now. It is falling lighter this afternoon." Two or three hours later the wind died away altogether, the square-sail was got down, and the skipper then said: "I will get the topsail down, too, sir. We can easily get it up again, and I will put a smaller jib on her. I don't at all think by the look of the sky that we are going to have a blow. The glass would have altered more if we were, but one never can tell. I would not risk the loss of a spar for anything." "I should think that you might put a couple of reefs in the mainsail, Hawkins." "Well, perhaps it would be the best, sir; for a puff that one thinks nothing of, one way or the other, when a craft has way; will take her over wonderfully when it catches her becalmed." Just as he had finished his dinner, the captain came down and asked Frank to come on deck. "There is a steamer bearing down on us. I can see both her side lights, and as she is coming in from the west she may not notice our starboard light. It is burning all right, but one never can see these green lights. They are the deceivingest things at a distance. I have just sent down for the man to bring up the riding light, and as it is a first-rate one, if we put it on deck it will light up the mainsail. I have told them to bring up the big horn. That ought to waken them if anything will." "How far is she off now, Hawkins?" "About a mile and a half, Major. There are no signs of her altering her course, as she ought to have done by this time if she had made us out. You see, her head light shows up fair and square between her side lights, which shows that she is coming as near as possible on to us. I think that I had better light a blue light." Frank nodded. The blue light at once blazed out. "They ought to see that if they are not all asleep," Frank said, as he looked up at the sails standing out white against the dark sky. "Set to work with that foghorn," the skipper said; and a man began to work the bellows of a great foghorn, which uttered a roar that might have been heard on a still night many miles away. Again and again the roar broke out. "That has fetched them," the captain said. "She is starboarding her helm to go astern of us. There, we have lost her red light, so it is all right. How I should have liked to have been behind the lookout or the officer of the watch with a marlinespike or a capstan bar. I will warrant that they would not have nodded when on watch again for a long time to come. "Here she comes; she is closer than I thought she was. She will pass within fifty yards of the stern. It is lucky that we had that big horn, Major Mallett, for if we had not woke them up when we did she would have run us down to a certainty." As the steamer came along, scarcely more than a length astern of the yacht, a yell of execration broke from the sailors gathered forward. "That was a near shave, George," Frank Mallett said, when the steamer had passed. "It brought me out in a cold sweat at the thought that, if the Osprey were to be run down, there was an end to all chance of rescuing Bertha from that scoundrel's clutches. I don't know that I thought of myself at all. I am a good swimmer, and I suppose she would have stopped to pick us up. It was the Osprey I was thinking of. Even if every life on board had been saved, I don't see how we could have followed up the search without her." Chapter 13. Three hours later the breeze came. Frank was pacing up and down the deck, when there was a slight creak above. He stopped and looked up. "Is that the breeze?" he asked the first mate, whose watch it was. "I think so, sir, though it may be just the heaving from a steamer somewhere. I don't feel any wind; not a breath from any quarter." There was another and more decided sound above. "There is no mistake this time," the mate said, as the boom which had been hanging amidships slowly swung over to port. "It's somewhere about the quarter that we expected it from, and coming as gently as a lamb." Five minutes later there was sufficient breeze to cause her to heel over perceptibly as she moved quietly through the water. "Hands aft to shake out the reefs," the mate called. The order was repeated down the fo'castle hatch by one of the two men on the lookout. The rest of the watch, who had been allowed to go below, tumbled up. The sailors hastened to untie the reef points. All were aware of the nature of the chase in which they were embarked. The whole crew were full of ardour. They felt it as a personal grievance that the young lady to whom their employer was engaged had not only been carried off, but carried off from the deck of the yacht. Moreover, she was very popular with them, as she had often asked them questions and chatted with them when at the helm or when she walked forward. She knew them all by name, and had several times come off from shore with a packet of tobacco for each man in her basket. She had been quick in learning to steer, and her desire to know everything about the yacht had pleased the sailors, who were all delighted when they learned of her engagement to the owner. The new hands, on learning the particulars, had naturally entered to some extent into the feeling of the others, and the alacrity with which every order was obeyed showed the interest felt in the chase. As soon as the reef points were untied came the order: "Slack away the reef tackle, and see that the caring will run easy. "Now up with the throat halliard. That will do. "Now the gaff a little more. Belay there. "Now get that topsail up from the sail locker. We won't shift jibs just yet, until we see whether the breeze is going to freshen." It was not long before the increasing heel of the craft, and rustle of water along her side, told that she was travelling faster. "The wind is freeing her a bit, sir. It has shifted a good half point in the last ten minutes." "That is a comfort," Frank said. "You may as well heave the log. I should like to know how she is going before I turn in." "Seven knots, sir," the mate reported. "That is pretty fair, considering how close-hauled she is." "Well, I will turn in now. Let me know if there is any change." At five o'clock Frank was on deck again. Purvis was in charge of the watch now. "Good morning, sir," he said, touching his hat as Frank came up. "We are going to have a fine day, and the wind is likely to keep steady." "All right, Purvis. What speed were we going when you heaved the log?" "Seven and a half, sir. Perry tells me that she has been doing just that ever since the wind sprang up. I reckon that we are pretty well abreast of Finisterre now. We shall have the sun up in a few minutes, and I expect that it will come up behind the land. "Lambert, go up to the cross-tree and keep a sharp lookout, as the sun comes up, and see if you can make land." "I can make out the land, sir," the sailor called down as soon as he reached the cross-tree. "It stands well up. I should say that you can see it from deck." The mate and Frank walked further aft and looked out under the boom. The land was plainly visible against the glow of the sky. "There it is, sure enough," the mate said. "I looked over there before you came up and could not make it out, but the sky has brightened a lot in the last ten minutes. I should say that it is about five-and-twenty miles away. It is a very bold coast, sir. "That is Finisterre over the quarter; you see the land breaks off suddenly there. We ought to have made out the light, but of course it is not very bright at this distance, and there was a slight mist on the water when I came up at eight bells." "I suppose in another forty-eight hours we shall not be far from the southern point of Portugal." "We shall be there, or thereabouts, by that time if the wind keeps the same strength and in the same quarter. That would make an uncommonly good run of it, considering that we were lying twenty-four hours becalmed. If it had not been for that, we should have been only four days from the Start to Saint Vincent." The mate's calculations turned out correct, and at seven in the morning they anchored a mile off Cape Saint Vincent. The gig was lowered, and Frank was rowed ashore, taking with him a signal book in which questions were given in several languages, including Spanish. He had purchased it at Cowes before starting. The signal officer was very polite, and fortunately understood a little English. So Frank managed, with the aid of the book, to make him understand his questions. No craft at all answering to the description had been noticed passing during the last five or six days; certainly no yacht had passed. She might, of course, have gone by after dark. He showed Frank the record of the ships that had been sighted going east, and of those that had made their numbers as they passed. The Phantom was not among the latter, nor did the rig or approximate tonnage, as guessed, of any of the others, at all correspond with hers. After thanking the officer, Frank returned to his boat, and half an hour later the Osprey was again under weigh. At Ceuta, Tarifa, and Tangier there was a similar want of success. Such a craft might have passed, but if so she was either too far away to be noted, or had passed during the night. From Tangier he crossed to Gibraltar, and anchored among the shipping there. So far everything had gone to confirm his theory that the Phantom would not go up the Mediterranean. Of course, she might have passed the three places, as well as Saint Vincent, at night; or have kept so nearly in the middle of the Strait as to pass without being remarked. Still, the chances were against it, and he regarded it as almost certain that she would have put into one or other of the African ports, as she passed them, for water, fresh meat and fruit. It was six days after the Osprey passed Saint Vincent before she anchored off Gib. She had made her number as she came in, and in a short time the health officer came out in a boat. The visit was a formal one; the white ensign on her taffrail was in itself sufficient to show her character, and that she must have come straight from England; and the questions asked were few and brief. "We are ten days out," Frank said. "We have touched at Tarifa, Ceuta, and Tangier, but that is all. The crew are all in good health. Here is the list of them if you wish to examine them." "As a matter of formality it is better that it should be done," the health officer said. "I will order them to muster," Frank said, "and while they are doing so, will you come below and take a glass of wine? "Can you tell me if a craft about this size, a schooner or brigantine, has put in here during the last fortnight? I don't know whether she is still flying yacht colours, or has gone into trade, but at any rate you could see at once that she had been a yacht." "Certainly no such craft has put in here, Major Mallett. Yours is the first yacht that has come round this season, and as I board every vessel that anchors here, I should certainly have noticed any trader that had formerly been a yacht. The decks and fittings would tell their story at once. Do you know her name?" "I don't know much about her," Frank said, "but a craft of that kind sailed from Cowes a day or two before I started, and, as I believe, for the Mediterranean. Being about our own size, and heavily sparred for a schooner, I was rather curious to know if I had beaten her. We did not make her out as we came along." "You must have passed her in the night, I should say, unless, as is likely enough, she did not put in, but kept eastward." As Frank had touched at Gibraltar three times before, the place had no novelty for him. He, however, went ashore at once to make arrangements for filling up again with water. The steward and George Lechmere accompanied him into the town to purchase fresh meat, fruit and vegetables. Frank then made his way to the post office. He was scarcely disappointed at finding that there was nothing for him as yet. The next three days he spent in wandering restlessly over the Rock. As long as the Osprey was under weigh, and doing her best, he was able to curb his anxiety and impatience; but now that she was at anchor he felt absolutely unable to remain quietly on board. Several officers of his acquaintance came off to the Osprey, and he was invited to dine at their mess dinner every night. He, however, declined. "The fact is, my dear fellow," he said to each, "I am at present waiting with extreme anxiety for news of a most important nature, and until I get it I am so restless and so confoundedly irritable that I am not fit to associate with anyone. When I look in here again I hope that it will be all right, and then I shall be delighted to come to you, and have a chat over our Indian days; but at present I really am not up to it." His appearance was sufficient to testify that his plea was not a fictitious excuse. On the fourth day he found a letter awaiting him at the post office. He tore it open, and read: "Funchal, Madeira, August 30. "Sir: At the request of Mr. Greenwood I beg to inform you that a brigantine, precisely answering to the description given me, anchored in the roads here on the 21st. She only remained a few hours to take in water and stores. I was at the landing place when the master came on shore. He said that they had had a wonderfully fast voyage from England, having come from the Lizard under seven days, and holding a leading wind all the way. She was flying the Belgian flag, and I learned from the Portuguese official who visited her that her papers were all in order, and that she had been purchased at Ostend from an Englishman only three weeks before, and had been named the Dragon. He did not remember what her English name had been. "Most unfortunately she had left a few hours before the mail steamer came in, bringing me the letter from Lloyd's. I do not know that I could, in any case, have stopped her; but I think that I could have got the officials to have searched her, and if the ladies had been on board, and had appealed to them for protection, I think the vessel would certainly have been detained; or, at any rate, the authorities would have insisted upon the ladies being set on shore. "Her papers had the Cape as her destination, though this may, of course, have been only a blind. I regret much that I am unable to give you further information, beyond the fact that there were two male passengers on board. I shall be happy to reply to any communication I may receive from you." Frank hurried down to the landing place. "Lay out, men," he said. "I want to be under way in a quarter of an hour." The men bent to their oars, and the gig flew through the water. There was no one on shore, for Frank had given strict orders that no one was to land, of a morning, until he returned from the post office. "Get under way at once," he called to the captain, as soon as he came within hailing distance. There was an instant stir on board. Some of the men ran to the capstan, others began to unlace the sail covers, while some gathered at the davits to hoist the boat up directly she came alongside. "I have news, lads," Frank said, in a loud voice, as he stepped on board. "She has touched at Madeira." There was a cheer from the men. It was something to know that a clue had been obtained, and in a wonderfully short time the Osprey was under way, and heading for the point of the bay. "Then they did not stop them there, Major?" George Lechmere asked, after Frank had stated the news. "No, the mail did not arrive with the letter in time for Lloyd's agent to act upon it. The Phantom had sailed some hours before. She is still under her square yards, and her name has been changed to the Dragon. She was there on the 21st, and the letter is dated the 30th." "And today is the 6th," George said. "So he has fifteen days' start of us, besides the distance to Madeira." "Yes, she must be among the West Indies long before we can hope to overtake her--there, or at some South American port." "Then you have learnt for certain that she has gone that way, Major?" "It is not quite certain, but I have no doubt about it. Her papers say that she is bound for the Cape, which is quite enough to show me that she is not going there. I think it is the West Indies rather than South America, for if she went to any Brazilian port, or Monte Video, or Buenos Ayres, she would be much more likely to attract attention than she would in the West Indies, where there are scores of islands and places where she could cruise, or lie hidden as long as she liked. "Yes, I have no doubt that is her destination. It is a nasty place to have to search, but sooner or later we ought to be able to find her. Fortunately the negroes pretty nearly all speak English, Spanish, or French, and we shall have no difficulty in getting information wherever there is any information to be had." Four days later the Osprey anchored off Funchal. The dinghy at once put off with six water casks, and Frank was rowed ashore in the gig, and had a talk with his correspondent. The latter, however, could give him no more information than had been contained in his letter, except that the white streak had been painted out, and that the craft carried fourteen hands, all of whom were foreigners. He could give no information as to whether she would be likely to touch at either the Canaries or the Cape de Verde Islands, but was inclined to think that she would not. "They took a very large stock of water on board," he said, "and a much larger amount of meat, vegetables and fruit than they would have required had they intended to put in there, and meat is a good deal dearer here than it would be at Saint Vincent, or even Teneriffe. I should think from this that they had no intention of putting in there, though they might touch at Saint Helena or Ascension, if they are really on their way to the Cape. "But after what you tell me, I should think that your idea that they have made for the West. Indies is the correct one. I should say that they were likely to lie up in some quiet and sheltered spot there, for it is the hurricane season now, and no one would be cruising about among the islands if he could help it. There are scores of places where he could lie in shelter and no one be any the wiser, except, perhaps, negro villagers on the shore." "Yes, I should think that is what he would do," Frank agreed. "How long does the hurricane season last?" "The worst time is between the middle of September and the middle of November, but you cannot depend upon settled weather until the new year begins." "Well, hurricane or no hurricane, I shall set out on the search as soon as I get over there." Two hours later the Osprey was again on her way. The breeze was fresh and steady, and with her square sail set and her mizzen furled she ran along at over nine knots an hour. One day succeeded another, without there being the least occasion to make any shift in the canvas, and it was not until they were within a day's sail of Porto Rico that the wind dropped almost suddenly. Purvis at once ran below. "The glass has fallen a long way since I looked at it at breakfast," he said, as he returned. "Then we are in for a blow," the skipper said. "I am new to these latitudes, but wherever you are you know what to do when there is a sudden lull in the wind, and a heavy fall in the glass. "Now, lads, get her canvas off her." "All down, captain!" "Every stitch. "Andrews, do you and two others get down into the sail locker and bring up the storm jib, the small foresail, trysail, and storm mizzen. If it is a tornado, we shan't want to show much sail to it." "If we are going to have a tornado, captain, I should recommend that you get the mainsail loose from the hoops, put the cover on, roll it up tightly to the gaff and lash it to the bulwarks on one side, and get the boom off and lash it on the other side." "That will be a very good plan. The lower we get the weight the better." When this was done, the topmast was also sent down and lashed by the sail. The barrels, which were now all empty, were lowered down into the saloon, while the trysail was fastened to the hoops ready for hoisting, and all the reefs tied up. A triangular mizzen was then hoisted, and a storm jib. "We won't get up the foresail at present," the captain said. "I have reefed it right down, sir, but I won't hoist it until we have got the first blow over." "You had better see that everything is well secured on deck, and if I were you I would put the jib in stops. We can break it out when we like; but from all accounts the first burst of these tornadoes is terrible. I should leave the mizzen on her; that will bring her head up to it, whichever way it comes, and she will lie to under that and the jib." "Yes, sir; but it is likely enough that we shall have to sail. I have been reading about the tornadoes. I picked up a book at Cowes the day we sailed, when I saw that you were ordering the charts of these seas, and have learnt what is the proper thing to do. The wind is from the southeast at present, which means that the centre of the hurricane lies to the southwest. "If the wind comes more from the east, as long as we can sail we are to head northwest or else lie to on the port tack. If it shifts more to the south, we are to lie to on the starboard tack." "That sounds all right, Hawkins. It is very easy to describe what ought to be done, but it is not so easy to do it, when you are in a gale that is almost strong enough to take her mast out of her. I will tell you what I would do. I would break up a couple of those casks, and nail the staves over the skylights, and then nail tarpaulins over them. I have no fear whatever about her weathering the gale, but I expect that for a bit we shall be more under water than above it. "I see Perry is getting the two anchors below; that will help to ease her. At any rate she will be in good fighting trim. I think we began none too soon. There is a thick mist over the sky, and it looks as dark as pitch ahead." "There is only one thing more, sir," and the captain shouted: "All hands get the boats on deck, and see that they are lashed firmly. "Will you see to getting in the davits out of the sockets, Purvis, and getting them below? "I ought to have done that before," he went on, apologetically, "but I did not think of it. However, with such a strong crew it won't take five minutes, and we have got that and something to spare, I think." "You have got the bowsprit reefed, Hawkins?" "Yes, sir; full reefed." "There is only one thing more that I can suggest. I fancy that these tornadoes begin with heavy lightning. Get those wire topmast stays, and twist them tightly round the shrouds and lash them there, leaving the ends to drop a fathom or two in the water. In that way I don't think that we need be afraid of the lightning. If it strikes us it will run down the wire shrouds, and then straight into the water." In five minutes all was in readiness; the boats securely lashed on deck, the davits down below, and the lightning protectors tied tightly to the wire shrouds. "Now, captain, I think we have done all that we can do. What are you doing now?" "I am running a life line right round her, sir. It may save more than one life if the seas make a sweep of her." "You are right, captain. These eighteen-inch bulwarks are no great protection." Four sailors speedily lashed a three-inch rope four feet above the deck, from the forestay round the shrouds and aft to the mizzen, hove as tight as they could get it and then fastened. While this was being done one of the mates cut up a piece of two-inch rope into several foot lengths, and gave one to each of the men and officers, including Frank and George Lechmere. "If you tie the middle of that round your chest under the arms, you will have the two ends ready to lash yourself to windward when it gets bad. A couple of twists round anything will keep you safe, however much water may come over her." "Do you mean to stay on deck, sir?" the skipper asked. "You won't be able to do any good, and the fewer hands there are on deck the less there will be to be anxious about. I shall only keep four hands forward after the first burst is over, and they will be lashed to the shrouds. Purvis will be there with them. Perry and Andrews will take the helm, and I shall stay with them. "We have battened the fore hatch down. One of the men will be in the after cabin, and if I want to hoist the trysail or make any change I shall give three knocks, and that will be a signal for them to send half a dozen hands up. They will come through the saloon and up the companion. We shan't be able to open the fore hatch." "Very well, skipper. I will go down when the hands do. We are going to have it soon." It was now indeed so dark that he could scarcely see the face of the man he was speaking to. "I really think, captain, that I should send some of them down below at once. If a flash of lightning were to strike the mast, it would probably go down the shrouds harmlessly, but might do frightful damage among the men, crowded as they are up here; or it might blind some of them. Besides, the weight forward is no trifle." "I think that you are right, sir," and, raising his voice, the captain shouted: "All hands below except the four men told off. Go down by the companion." "Would you mind their stopping in the saloon, sir? It would make her more lively than if they all went down into the fo'castle." "Certainly not, captain;" and accordingly the men were ordered to remain in the saloon. "You can light your pipes there, my lads," Frank said, as they went down, "and make yourselves as comfortable as you can." The last man had scarcely disappeared when the captain said: "Look there, Major Mallett," and looking up Frank saw a ball of phosphorescent light, some eighteen inches in diameter, upon the masthead. "Plenty of electricity about," he said, cheerfully. "If they are all as harmless as that it won't hurt us." But as he ceased speaking there was a crash of thunder overhead that made the whole vessel quiver, and at the same instant a flash of lightning, so vivid, that for a minute or two Frank felt absolutely blinded. Without a moment's intermission, flash followed flash, while the crashes of thunder were incessant. "I think that plan of yours has saved the ship, sir," the captain said, when, after five minutes, the lightning ceased as suddenly as it had begun. "I am sure that a score of those flashes struck the mast, and yet no damage has been done to it, so far as I could see by the last flash. Are you all right there, Purvis?" "All right," the mate replied. "Scared a bit, I fancy. I know I am myself, but none the worse for it." "It is coming now, sir," the captain said. "Listen." Frank could hear a low moaning noise, rapidly growing louder, and then he saw a white line on the water coming along with extraordinary velocity. "Hard down with the helm, Perry," the captain said. "Hard down it is, sir." "Hold on all!" the captain shouted. A few seconds later the gale struck them. The yacht shook as if in a collision, and heeled over till the water was half up her deck. Then the weight of her lead ballast told, and as the pressure on the mizzen did its work, she gradually came up to the wind, getting on to an almost even keel as she did so. "Break out the jib and haul in the weather sheet," the captain shouted. Purvis was expecting this, and although he did not hear the words above the howl of the storm, at once obeyed the order. "There she is, sir, lying-to like a duck," the skipper shouted in Frank's ear; "and none the worse for it. An ordinary craft would have turned turtle, but I have seen her as far over when she has been racing." "Well, I will go below now, Hawkins," Frank shouted back. "It is enough to blow the hair off one's head. "Come down, George, with me. You can be of no use here." Chapter 14. For eight hours the Osprey struggled with the storm. The sea swept over her decks, and the dinghy was smashed into fragments, but the yacht rode with far greater ease than an ordinary vessel would have done, as, save for her bare mast, the wind had no hold upon her. There were no spars with weight of furled sails to catch the wind and hold her down; she was in perfect trim, and her sharp bows met the waves like a wedge, and suffered them to glide past her with scarce a shock, while the added buoyancy gained by reefing the bowsprit and getting the anchors below lifted her over seas that, as they approached, seemed as if they would make a clean sweep over her. From time to time Frank went up for a few minutes, lashing himself to the runner to windward. The three men at the helm were all sitting up, lashed to cleats, and sheltering themselves as far as they could by the bulwarks. Movement toward them was impossible. Beyond a wave of the hand, no communication could be held. Frank could not have ventured out had he not, before going down below for the first time, stretched a rope across the deck in front of the companion, so that before going out he obtained a firm grasp of it, and was by its assistance able to reach the side safely. Each time he went out four of the crew from below followed him and relieved those lashed to the shrouds forward. The skipper was carrying out the plan he had decided on, and the foresail was hoisted a few feet, the Osprey by its aid gradually edging her way out from the centre of the tornado. The hands as they came down received a stiff glass of grog, and were told to turn in at once. Two hours after the storm broke Purvis came down for a few minutes. "She is doing splendidly, sir," he said. "I would not have believed if I had not seen it, that any craft of her size could have gone through such a sea as this and shipped so little water. We have had a few big 'uns come on board, but in general she goes over them like a duck. It is hard work forward. You have got to keep your back to it, for you can hardly get your breath if you face it. If it was not for the lashings, it would blow you right away. "I have been at sea in gales that we thought were big ones, but nothing like this. Of course, with our heavy ballast and bare poles, she don't lie over much. It is the sea and not the wind that affects her, and her low free board is all in her favour. But I believe a ship with a high side and yards and top hamper would be blown down on her beam ends and kept there." "Do you think that it blows as hard as it did, Purvis?" "There ain't much difference, sir; but I do think there ain't quite so much weight in it. I expect we are working our way out of it. We have been twice round the compass. It is lucky we had not got down among the islands before we caught it. I would not give much for our chances if we had been there, for these gales gradually wear themselves out as they get farther from the islands." In six hours the weather had so far moderated that they were able to hoist the reefed foresail, and two hours later the trysail was set with all the reefs in. These were shaken out in a short time, the wind dying away fast. Half the crew had turned into their hammocks some time before, and the regular watch was now set. The motion of the ship, however, was very violent, for there was a heavy tumbling sea still on, the waves having no general direction, but tossing in confused masses and coming on to the deck, now on one side, now on the other. At midnight Frank also turned in, in his clothes; but he was soon up again, for the motion of the yacht was so violent that he found it next to impossible to keep from being jerked out of his berth. The first mate had had four hours off duty, and had just come up again to relieve the captain. "It is lucky, sir, that all our gear is nearly new," he said; "for if it had not been, this rolling would have taken the mast out of her. The strain on the shrouds each time that she gets chucked over must be tremendous." "It would have been better, for this sort of work, if we had had ten feet taken off that stick before we started." "Well, just for the present it would have been better, sir; but even if we had had time I would not have done it. We should not have much chance of overhauling the Phantom if we clipped our wings." In another two hours the sea had sensibly moderated. Frank again went down, and this time was able to go to sleep. When he went on deck the sun was some way up, the mainsail was set, and the reefs had been shaken out. "This is a change for the better, captain." "It is indeed, sir. I think that we have reason to be proud of the craft. She has gone through a tornado without having suffered the slightest damage, except the loss of the dinghy. I shall be getting the topmast up in another hour. You see, I have got her number-two jib on her and shifted the mizzen, but she is still a bit too lively to make it safe to get up the spar. Like as not, if we did, it would snap off before we could get the stays taut." "I am terribly anxious about the Phantom," Frank said, "and only trust that she was in a snug harbour on the lee side of one of the islands." "I hope so, sir. I was thinking of her lots of times when the gale was at its height. If she was, as you say, in a good port, she would be right enough. Of course, if she was out she would run for the nearest shelter." "If she had no more wind than we had before it came on, she had not much chance of doing that." "That is true enough, sir; but, you see, the glass gave us notice three hours before we caught it. Besides, they certainly took native pilots on board as soon as they got out here, and these must have got them into some safe place at the first sign of a gale." "Yes, they must certainly have had a pilot on board," Frank agreed; "and there is every ground to hope that they were snugly at anchor. They were three weeks ahead of us, and must know that it is the hurricane season as well as we do. It is likely that the first thing they did on their arrival was to search for some quiet spot, where they could lie up safely till the bad season was over." Late on the following afternoon land was seen ahead. "There is Porto Rico, sir. It may not be quite our nearest point to make, but there are no islands lying outside it; so that it was safer to make for it than for places where the islands seemed to be as thick as peas." "Yes, and for the same reason it is likely that Carthew made for it. Of course, naturally we should have both gone for either Barbadoes or Antigua, or Barbuda, the most northern of the Leeward Islands; but he would not do so if he intends to keep his Belgian colours flying. And, indeed, it would seem curious that two English gentlemen should be cruising about in a Belgian trader. You may take it that he is certain to put into a port for water and vegetables, just as we have to do. There seem to be at least half a dozen on this side of the island. He may have gone into any of them, but he would be most likely to choose a small place. However, at one or other of them we are likely to get news; and the first thing for us to do is to get a good black pilot, who can talk some English as well as Spanish." "It is likely we shall have to take three or four of them before we have done. A man here might know the Virgin Islands, and perhaps most of the Leeward Islands, but he might not know anything east, west, or north of San Domingo. We should certainly want another pilot for the Bahamas, and a third for Cuba and the islands round it, which can be counted almost by the hundred. Then again, none of these would know the islands fringing almost the whole of the coast from Honduras to Trinidad. However, I hope we shall not have to search them. There is an ample cruising ground and any number of hiding places without having to go so far out of the world as that. At any rate, at present he is not likely to have gone far, and I think that he will either have sought some secluded shelter among the Virgin Islands, or on the coast of San Domingo." When within a few miles of Porto Rico they lay to for the night, and the next morning coasted westward, and dropped anchor in the port of San Juan de Porto Rico. A quarter of an hour after dropping anchor the port officials came on board. The inspection of the ship's papers was a short formality, the white ensign and the general appearance of the craft showing her at once to be an English yacht, and as she had only touched at Madeira on her way from Gibraltar, and all on board were in good health, she was at once given pratique. "The first thing to do is to get an interpreter," Frank said, as he was rowed to shore, accompanied by George Lechmere. "The secretary of Lloyd's gave me a list of their agents all over the world. It is a Spanish firm here, and it is probable that none of them speaks English, but if so I have no doubt that by aid of this signal book I shall be able to make them understand what I want. I have a circular letter of introduction from Lloyd's secretary." He had no difficulty in discovering the place of business of Senor Juan Cordovo, and on sending in his card and the letter of introduction, was at once shown into an inner office. He was received with grave courtesy by the merchant, who, on learning that he did not speak Spanish, touched a bell on his table. A clerk entered, to whom he spoke a few words. The young man then turned to Frank, and said: "I speak English, sir. Senor Cordovo wishes me to assure you that all he has is at your disposal, and that he will be happy to assist you in any way that you may point out." "Please assure Senor Cordovo of my high consideration and gratitude for his offer. Will you inform him that I intend to cruise for some time among the islands, and that I desire to obtain the services of an interpreter, speaking English and Spanish; and if he possesses some knowledge of French, so much the better." The reply was translated to the merchant, who conversed with the interpreter for two or three minutes. The latter then turned to Frank. "I have a brother, senor, who, like myself, speaks the three languages. He is at present out of employment, and would, I am sure, be very glad to engage himself to you as your interpreter." "That would be the very thing," Frank said. "Does he live in the town?" "Yes, senor. I could fetch him here in a few minutes if Senor Cordovo will permit me to do so." The merchant at once granted the clerk's request. "Will you tell Senor Cordovo," Frank said, "that I do not wish to occupy his valuable time, and that I will return here in a quarter of an hour?" The merchant, however, through the clerk, assured Frank that he would not hear of his leaving, and producing a box of cigars, begged him to seat himself until the arrival of the interpreter. He then said something else to the clerk, and the latter asked Frank if he wanted any supplies for the yacht, as his employer acted as agent for shipping. "Certainly," Frank said, glad to have the opportunity of repaying the civility shown him. "I require fresh meat, fruit and vegetables, sufficient for twenty-five persons. I shall also be glad if he will arrange for boats to take off water. My barrels and tanks are nearly empty, and I shall want a supply of about a thousand gallons." While the clerk was absent, Frank, with the assistance of the signal book, kept up a somewhat disjointed conversation with the Spaniard. The clerk was, however, away but a few minutes; and returned with his brother, an intelligent-looking young fellow of seventeen or eighteen. He did not speak English quite as well as the clerk, but sufficiently well for all purposes. Frank asked him his terms, which seemed to him ridiculously low, and a bargain was forthwith arranged. "Will you ask Senor Cordovo if any other English yacht has been here during the past three weeks or a month? I have a friend on board one, and I fancy that she is cruising out here also." The merchant replied that no English yacht had touched at the port for some months, and that such visits were extremely rare. He assured him that the stores ordered would be alongside in the course of the afternoon, and expressed his regret when Frank declined his invitation to stay with him for a day or two at his country house. After renewed thanks, Frank took his departure with his new interpreter, whose name was Pedro. George Lechmere was waiting at the corner of the street. "I have arranged everything satisfactorily, George. This young man is coming with me as interpreter, and as he speaks both French and Spanish we shall get on well in future. "When will you be ready to come on board, Pedro?" "In half an hour, senor." "You will find my boat at the quay. Take your things down to it. It is a white boat with a British flag at the stern. But I don't want you to go off yet. I have two things I want you to do before you go. "In the first place, I want a pilot. I want one who knows the Virgin Islands well, and also the coast of San Domingo." "There will be no difficulty about that, senor." "In the second place, I want to find out, from the boatmen at the quays, whether a Belgian schooner of seventy or eighty tons has touched here during the last month. She carries large yards on her foremast, and is a very fast-looking craft. She was at one time an English yacht. If she called here, I wish to know whether she sailed east or west, and if possible to obtain an idea as to her destination." "There was such a vessel here, senor, for I noticed her myself. She only remained a few hours, while her boats took off water and vegetables. I happened to notice her, for having nothing to do I was down at the quays, and the boatmen were talking about her, she being a craft such as is seldom seen now. Some of the old men said that she reminded them of the privateers in the great war. I went down to the boats when they first came ashore. The men only spoke French, and they paid me a dollar to go round with them to make their purchases. They took them, and also the water, off in their own boats; which surprised me, for they were very handsome boats, much more handsome than I have seen in any ship that ever came here. I said that it would cost them but a very small sum to send the barrels off in the native boats, but they insisted upon taking them themselves. "I don't know which way they sailed, because I went home as soon as they went away from the quay, but the boatmen will be able to tell me." He went away and talked with some of the negro boatmen, and soon returned, saying that she sailed westward. "At what time did she sail?" "It was just getting dark, senor, for they said that they could scarcely make her out, but she certainly went west." "Well, all you have to do now, Pedro, is to hire a pilot. Get the best man that you can find. I want one who knows every foot of the Virgin Islands. We are going there first. It does not matter so much about his knowing San Domingo, for as we shall probably come back here, we can put him ashore and get another pilot specially for San Domingo. Be sure you get the best man that you can find, whatever his terms are. We will be back again here in half an hour. "That is satisfactory indeed, George," Frank went on, as they turned away. "Of course, strongly as we believed that he might be here, there was no absolute certainty about it, for he might have gone to the South American ports, or even have headed for the Gulf of Florida. You see he is not only here, but came to the very island we thought that he would most likely make for. As for his going west, no doubt that was merely a ruse. He did not get up anchor until it was getting so dark that he would be able in the course of half an hour to change his course, and make for the Virgin Islands without fear of being observed. I don't suppose that they have any idea whatever of being followed, but they take every precaution in their power to cover up their traces. You noticed, of course, their anxiety that no shore boat should go off to them. "Well, George, we have succeeded so well thus far, that I feel confident that we shall overhaul them before long. As far as one can see on the chart, most of these Virgin Islands are mere rocks, and the number we shall have to search will not be very great, and if the pilot really knows his business, he ought to be able to take us to every inlet where they would be likely to anchor." Pedro was awaiting them when they returned to the boat, and was accompanied by a big negro, who, by the grin on his good-natured face, was evidently highly satisfied with the bargain that he had made. "This is the man, senor," Pedro said. "I met one of the port officers I know, and he told me that he was considered to be the best pilot in the island. He speaks a little English--most of the pilots do, for several of the Virgin Islands belong to your people--and, of course, when he goes down to the Windward Islands--" "The Windward Islands!" Frank repeated. "Why, they are not anywhere near here." "I should have said the Leeward Islands, senor. The English call them so, but we and the Danes and the Dutch all call them the Windward Islands." "Oh, I understand. "What is your name, my man?" "Dominique, sar. Me talk English bery well. Me take you to any port you want to go. Me know all de rocks and shoals. Bery plenty dey is, but Dominique knows ebery one of dem." "That is all right. You are just the man I want. Well, are you ready to go on board at once?" "Me ready in an hour, sar. Go home now, say goodbye to wife and piccaninnies. Pedro just tell me that boat go off with water in one, two hours. Dominique go off with him. Me like five dollars to give wife to buy tings while me am away." "All right, Dominique, here you are. Now don't you miss the boat, or we shall quarrel at starting, and I shall send ashore at once and engage someone else." "Dominique come, sar, that for sure. Me good man; always keep promise." "Well, here is another couple of dollars, Dominique; that is a present. You give that to the wife, and tell her to buy something for the piccaninnies with it." So saying, Frank, George Lechmere, and Pedro stepped on board the boat; while the pilot walked off, his black face beaming with satisfaction. He came off duly with the last water boat, and while the contents of the barrels were being transferred to the tanks--for now that the long run was accomplished there was no longer any necessity for carrying a greater supply than these could hold--Frank had a talk with him. "Now, Dominique, this is, you know, a yacht cruising about on pleasure." "Yes, sar, me know dat." "At the same time," Frank went on, "we have an object in view. Just at present we want to find that schooner or brigantine that put in here nearly a month ago. She carried a heavy spread of canvas on her yards, and lay very low in the water." The pilot nodded. "Me remember him, sar; could not make out de craft nohow. Some people said she pirate, but dar ain't no pirates now." "That is so, Dominique. Still there may be reasons sometimes for wanting to overhaul a vessel, and I have such a reason. What it is, is of no consequence. Pedro tells me that when she got under sail she went west, but as it was just dark when she sailed, she may very well have turned as soon as she was hidden from sight and have gone east; and it seems to me likely that she would, in the first place, have made for one of the Virgin Islands." "It depends, sar, upon the trade that he wanted to do. Not much trade dere, sar. The trade is done at Tortola, dat English island; and at Saint Thomas or Santa Cruz, dem Danish islands; all de oders do little trade." "Yes, Dominique, but I don't think that she wants to trade at all. What she wants to do is to lie up quietly, where she would not be noticed." "Plenty of places in the islands for dat, sar." "Did they take a pilot here?" Dominique shook his head. "No, sar; several offers, but no take. If want to hide, they no want pilot from here; they take up a fisherman among the islands, to show dem good place. But plenty of places much better in San Domingo or Cuba. Why dey stop Virgin Islands? Little places, many got no water, no food, no noting but bare rock." "I think that they would go in there, because, as the hurricane season had begun when they got here, they would think it better to run into the port." "Hurricane not bad here, sar; bery bad down at what English call Leeward Islands. Have dem sometimes here, not bery often; had one four days ago, one ob de worse me remember. We not likely to have another dis year." "That is satisfactory, Dominique, We got caught in it the other day, and I don't want to meet another. Well, you understand what I want. To begin with, to search all the places a vessel that did not want to attract notice would be likely to lie up in. We want to question people as to whether she has been seen, and if we don't find her, to hear whether, when last seen, she was sailing in the direction of the Leeward Islands, or going west." "Me find out, sar," the negro said, confidently. "Someone sure to have seen her." "Well, you had better come below. I have got a chart, and you shall mark all the islands where there are any bays that she would be likely to take shelter in, and we can then see the order in which we had better take them." This was a little beyond Dominique's English, but Pedro explained it to him, and at Frank's request went below with them; Frank telling Hawkins to weigh anchor as soon as the tanks were filled and the stores were on board. He had, before he came off, returned to Senor Cordovo and paid for all the things supplied. Going through the islands, one by one, Dominique made a cross against all that possessed harbours or inlets, that would each have to be examined. "Tortola is the least likely of the places for them to go," Frank said, "as it is a British island." "Not many people dar, sar. Most people in town. De rest of island rock, all hills broken up, many good harbours." "What is its size, Dominique?" "Twelve miles long, sar. Two miles wide." "Well, that is not a great deal to search, if we have to examine every inch of the coast. How many people are there?" "Two, three hundred white men. Dey live in de town most all. Two, three thousand blacks." "Well, we will begin with the others. I should think that in a fortnight we ought to be able to do them all." The next twelve days were occupied in a fruitless search. Every fishing boat was overhauled and questioned, and Frank and Pedro went ashore to every group of huts. The only fact that they learned, was that a schooner answering to the description had been seen some time before. The information respecting her was, however, very vague; for some asserted that she was sailing one way, some another; and Frank concluded that she had cruised about for some days, before deciding where to lie up. It was at Tortola that they first gained any useful information. Many vessels had, during the last six weeks, entered one or other of the deep creeks, and one of them had laid up for nearly a month in a narrow inlet with but one or two negro huts on shore. It was undoubtedly the Phantom, or rather the Dragon, for the negroes had noticed that name on her stern. She had sailed on the day after the hurricane, and, as they learned from shore villages at other points, had gone west. "Well, it is a comfort to think that even if we had sailed direct here from Porto Rico we should not have caught her," Frank said to George Lechmere. "She had left here two days before we got there. I suppose they have someone on board who has been in the islands before, for certainly the harbours are the best in the group. No doubt they got some fishermen to bring them into the creek. Well, there is nothing to do but to turn her head west. It is but forty-eight hours' sail to San Domingo, and I fancy that it is likely that he will have stopped there. You see on the chart that there are numberless bays, and there would be no fear of questions being asked by the blacks. If we don't find him there we must try Cuba; but San Domingo is by far the most likely place for him to choose for his headquarters, and there are at least four biggish rivers he could sail up, beside a score of smaller ones. "I should say that we had better try the south and west first. The coast is a great deal more indented there than it is to the north. There seem to be any number of creeks and bays. I should think that he would be likely to make one of these his headquarters, and spend his time cruising about." Although Dominique professed a thorough knowledge of the coast of San Domingo and Hayti, Frank could see that he was not so absolutely certain as he was of the Virgin Islands, and he told him to land at villages as he passed along, and bring fishermen off acquainted with the waters in their locality. "Dat am de safest way for sure, sar," Dominique said. "Dis chile know de coast bery well, can pilot ship into town of San Domingo or any oder port that ships go to, but he could not say for certain where all de rocks and shoals are along places where de ships neber go in." Three days later the Osprey, after sailing along the northern shore, arrived at Porto Rico and, passing through the Mona channel between that island and San Domingo, dropped anchor in the port of the capital. Dominique went ashore with Pedro, and spent some hours in boarding coasting craft and questioning negroes whether they had seen the brigantine. Several of them had noticed her. She had been cruising off the coast, and had put in at the mouth of the Nieve, and at Jaquemel on the south coast of Hayti. They heard of her, too, in the deep bay at the west of the island between Capes Dame Marie and La Move. Some had seen her sailing one way, some another; she had evidently been, as Frank had expected, cruising about. Pedro put down the dates of the times at which she had been seen, but negroes are very vague as to time, and beyond the fact that some had seen her about a week before, while in other cases it was nearer a fortnight, he could ascertain nothing with certainty. So far as he could learn, she had only put into three ports, although the coasters he boarded came from some twenty different localities. "I fancy that it is as I expected," Frank said. "They have one regular headquarters to which they return frequently. It may be some very secluded spot. It may be up one of these small rivers marked on the chart--there are a score of them between Cape la Move and here. She does not seem to have been seen as far east as this. Of course, she has not put in here, because there are some eight or ten foreign ships here now. Every one of these twenty rivers has plenty of water for vessels of her draught for some miles up. I fancy our best chance will be to meet her cruising." "The worst of that would be, Major," George Lechmere said, "that she would know us, and if she sails as well as she used to do, we should not catch her before night came on--if she had seven or eight miles' start--especially if we both had the wind aft." "That is just what I am afraid of. I have no doubt that we could beat her easily working to windward in her present rig, but I am by no means certain that she could not run away from us if we were both free; and if she once recognised us there is no saying where she might go to after she had shaken us off. Certainly she would not stay in these waters. "The question is, how can we disguise ourselves? If we took down our mizzen and dirtied the rest of our sails, it would not be much of a disguise. Nothing but a yacht carries anything like as big a mainsail as ours, and our big jib and foresail, and the straight bowsprit would tell the tale. Of course, we could fasten some wooden battens along her side, and stretch canvas over them, and paint it black, and so raise her side three feet, but even then the narrowness of her hull, seen end on as it would be, in comparison to the height of the mast and spread of canvas, would strike Carthew at once." "We could follow his example, sir, and make her into a brig. I dare say we could get it done in a week." "That might spoil her sailing, and as soon as he found that we were in chase of him, he would at once suspect that something was wrong. That would, of all things, be the worst, especially if he found--which would be just as likely as not--that he had the legs of us. "I believe the most certain way of all would be to search for her in the boats. If we were to paint the gig black, so that it would not attract attention, give a coating of grey paint to the oars, and hire a black crew, we could coast along and stop at every village, and search every bay, and row far enough up each river to find some village or hut where we could learn whether the Phantom has been in the habit of going up there. It would take some time, of course, but it might be a good deal of time saved in the long run. We could do a great deal of sailing. The gig stands well up to canvas when the crew are sitting in the bottom, and we could fit her out with a native rig. "From here to Cape La Move, following the indentations, must be somewhere between five and six hundred miles, perhaps more than that. The breeze is regular, and with a sail we ought to make from forty to fifty miles a day--say forty--so that in three weeks we should thoroughly have searched the coast, even allowing for putting in three or four times a day to make inquiries. The yacht must follow, keeping a few miles astern. At any rate she must not pass us. "At night when she anchors she must have two head lights, one at the crosstrees and one at the topmast head. I shall be on the lookout for her, and we will take some blue lights and some red lights with us. Every night I will burn a blue light, say at nine o'clock. A man in the crosstrees will make it out twenty miles away, and that will tell them where I am, and that I don't want them. If I burn a red light it will be a signal for the yacht to come and pick me up." "Then you will go in the boat yourself, Major?" "Yes, I must be doing something. I shall take Pedro with me, and perhaps Dominique. We can get another pilot here. Dominique is a shrewd fellow, and can get more out of the negroes than Pedro can. Certainly, that will be the best plan, and will avoid the necessity of spoiling the yacht's speed, which may be of vital importance to us at a critical moment. "Call Dominique down. I will send him ashore at once with Pedro, to get hold of a good pilot and four good negro boatmen, and a native sail. I think that is all we want." Chapter 15. As soon as the dinghy, with Dominique and Pedro, had left the side of the yacht; the captain, by Frank's orders, set four men to work to paint the gig black, while others gave a coat of dull lead colour to the varnished oars. The order was received with much surprise by the men, who audibly expressed their regret at seeing their brightly varnished boat and oars thus disfigured. After about three hours on shore, the dinghy returned loaded with fruit and vegetables, which Pedro had purchased, and a native mast and sail. The former was at once cut so as to step in the gig. The sail was hoisted, and was then taken in hand by one of the crew, who was a fair sailmaker, to be altered so as to stand flatter. Half an hour later the new pilot and four powerful negroes came alongside in a shore boat. It was now late in the afternoon, so the start was postponed until the next morning. A few other arrangements were made as to signalling, and it was settled that if Frank showed a red light, a rocket should be sent up from the yacht, to show that the signal had been observed, and that they were getting up sail. They were to keep their lights up, so that Frank could make them out as they came up, and put off to meet them. George Lechmere saw to the preparations for victualling the gig. Two large hampers of fresh provisions were placed on board, and two four-and-a-half gallon kegs of water. A bundle of rugs was placed in the stern sheets, and the boat's flagstaff was fixed in its place in the stern. The yard of the sail was at night to be lashed from the mast to the staff at a height of four feet above the gunwale, and across this the sail was to be thrown to act as a tent. A kettle, frying pan, plates, knives and forks were put in forward, and a box of signal lights under the seat aft. Canisters of tea, sugar, coffee, and all necessaries had been stowed away in the hamper, together with a plentiful supply of tobacco; and a bag of twenty-eight pounds of flour, wrapped up in tarpaulin, was placed under one of the thwarts. As soon as it was daylight, anchor was got up, and when the yacht had sailed for seven or eight miles to the west, the gig was lowered, and the four black boatmen took their places in her. Frank took the rudder lines, and Dominique sat near him. The sail was then hoisted, and as the wind was light, the boatmen got out their oars and shot ahead of the Osprey, directing their course obliquely towards the shore. It was not necessary to land at the coast villages here, as it was morally certain that the Phantom had not touched anywhere within twenty or thirty miles of San Domingo, and she would hardly have entered any of the narrow rivers at night. Nevertheless, they did not pass any of these without rowing up them. When some native huts were reached, Dominique closely questioned the negroes. The pilot had, by this time, been informed of the cause of their search for the Phantom, which had, until they left San Domingo, been a profound mystery to him. Frank, however, being now fully convinced both of the negro's trustworthiness, and of his readiness to do all in his power to assist, thought it as well to confide in him, and when they were together in the boat, informed him that the brigantine they were searching for had carried off a young lady and her maid from England. "That man must be a rascal," the negro said, angrily. "What do he want dat lady for, sar? He love her bery much?" "No, Dominique, what he loves is her fortune. She is rich. He has gambled away a fine property, and wants her money to set him on his legs again." "Bery bad fellow dat," the pilot said, shaking his head earnestly. "Ought to be hung, dat chap. Dominique do all he can to help you, sar. Do more now for you and dat young lady. We find him for suah. You tink there will be any fighting, sar?" "I think it likely that he will show fight when we come up with him, but you see I have a very strong crew, and I have arms for them all." "Dat good. Me wonder often why you have so many men. Nothing for half of dem to do. Now me understand. Well, sar, if there be any fighting, you see me fight. You gib me cutlass; me fight like debil." "Thank you, Dominique," Frank said, warmly, though with some difficulty repressing a smile. "I shall count on you if we have to use force. As far as I am concerned, I own that I should prefer that they did resist, for I should like nothing better than to stand face to face with that villain, each of us armed with a cutlass." "If he know you here, he go up river, get plenty of black men fight for him. Black fellow bery foolish. Give him little present he fight." "I had not thought of that, Dominique. Yes, if he has made some creek his headquarters he might, as you say, get the people to take his side by giving them presents; that is, if he knew that we were here. However, at present he cannot dream that we are after him, and if we can but come upon him unawares we shall make short work of him." No news whatever was obtained of the schooner until the headland of La Catarina was passed, but at the large village of Azua they learned that she had anchored for a night in the bay five days before. She had been seen to sail out, and certainly had not turned into the river Niova. Touching at every village and exploring every inlet, Frank continued his course until, after rounding the bold promontory of La Beata, he reached the bay at the head of which stands Jaquemel. Every two or three days they had communicated with the Osprey and slept on board her, leaving her at anchor with her sails down until they had gone some ten miles in advance. She had at times been obliged to keep at some distance from the shore, owing to the dangers from rocks and shoals. The pilot on board would have taken her through, but Frank was unwilling to encounter any risk, unless absolutely necessary. At Jaquemel he learnt that the schooner had put in there a fortnight before, but neither there nor at any point after leaving Azua had she been seen since that time. She had sailed west. The next night, after looking in at Bainette, some twenty miles beyond Jaquemel, Frank rejoined the Osprey. The gig was hoisted up, and they sailed round the point of Gravois, the coast intervening being so rocky and dangerous that, although there was a passage through the shoals to the town of St. Louis, Frank felt certain that the schooner would not be in there. The coast from here to Cape Dame Marie was high and precipitous, with no indentations where a ship could lie concealed, and the voyage was continued in the yacht as far as this cape. They were now at the entrance of the great bay of Hayti. "I take it as pretty certain," Frank said, as he, George Lechmere, the skipper, and Dominique bent over the chart; "that the schooner is somewhere in this bay. She has certainly not made her headquarters anywhere along the south coast. In the first place, she has seldom been seen, and in the second we have examined it thoroughly. Therefore I take it that she is somewhere here, unless, of course, she has sailed for Cuba. But I don't see why she should have done that. The coast there is a good deal more dangerous than that of San Domingo. He could not want a better place for cruising about than this bay. You see, it is about ninety miles across the mouth, and over a hundred to Port au Prince, with indentations and harbours all round, and with the island of Genarve, some forty miles long, to run behind in the centre. He could get everything he wants at Port au Prince, or at Petit Gouve, which looks a good-sized place. "I should say, in the first place, that we could not do better than run down at night to the island of Genarve, and anchor close under it. From there we shall see him if he comes out of Port au Prince, or Petit Gouve, whichever side he may take; and by getting on to an elevated spot have a view of pretty nearly the whole bay. Looking at it at present, the two most likely spots for him to make his headquarters are in that very sheltered inlet behind the point of Halle on the north side, or in the equally sheltered bay and inlet under the Bec de Marsouin on the south. From Genarve we ought to be able to see him coming out of either of them. It is not above five-and-twenty miles from the island to the Bec de Marsouin, and forty to the point of Halle. We might not see him come out from there, but we should soon make him out if he were coming down from Port au Prince." It was agreed that this was the best plan to adopt. It might lead to their sighting the schooner in a day or two, while to row round the bay and search every inlet in it would take them a fortnight. From Genarve, too, a forty-mile sail in the gig would take them into Port au Prince, which the brigantine might possibly have made its headquarters. Accordingly, after waiting until nightfall, they got up sail, and anchored at six in the morning in a small bay in the island of Genarve. Here they would not be likely to attract the notice of any ship passing up to Port au Prince, unless, which was very unlikely, one came along close to the shore. As soon as the anchor was dropped, both boats rowed to shore. Frank, George Lechmere, Pedro, and four sailors, with a basket of provisions, started at once for the highest point in the island, some four miles distant. Dominique went along the shore with two sailors, to make inquiries at any villages they came to. On reaching the top of the hill, Frank saw that, as he had expected, it commanded an extensive view over the bay on each side of the island, which was but some six miles across. A village could be seen on the northern shore, some three miles distant; and to this Pedro, with one of the sailors, was at once despatched. Both parties rejoined Frank soon after midday. The schooner had been noticed passing the island several times, but much more often on the southern side than on the northern. The negroes on that side were all agreed that she generally kept on the southern side of the passage, and that more than once she had been seen coming from the south shore, and passing the western point of the island on her way north. "That looks as if she came from Petit Gouve, or the bay of Mitaquane, or that under the Bec de Marsouin," Frank said. "Dat is it, sar," Dominique agreed. "If she want to go north side of bay from Port au Prince, she would have gone either side of island. I expect she lie under de Bec. Fine, safe place dat, no town there, plenty of wood all round, and villages where she get fruit and vegetables; sure to be little stream where she can get water." The watch was maintained until sunset, but, although a powerful telescope had been brought up, no vessel at all corresponding to the appearance of the brigantine was made out. At six o'clock the next morning Frank was again at the lookout, and scarcely had he turned his telescope to the south shore than he saw the brigantine come out from behind the Bec de Marsouin and head towards the west. The wind was blowing from that quarter, and after a few minutes' deliberation, Frank told the men to follow him, and dashed down the hill. In half an hour he reached the shore opposite the yacht, and at his shout the dinghy, which was lying at her stern, at once rowed ashore. "Get up the anchor, captain, and make sail. I have seen her. She has just come out from the Bec, and is making west. As the wind is against her, it seems to me that he would never choose that direction to cruise in unless he was starting for Cuba, and I dare not let the opportunity slip. If he once gets clear away we may have months of work before we find him again, and as the wind now is, I am sure that we can overhaul him long before he can make Cuba. Indeed, as we lie, we are nearer to that coast than he is, and can certainly cut him off." In five minutes the Osprey was under way, with all sail set. The wind was nearly due west, and as Cuba lay to the north of that point, she had an advantage that quite counter-balanced that gained by the start the Phantom had obtained. In two hours the lookout at the head of the mast shouted down that he could perceive the brigantine's topsail. "She is sailing in towards the land on that side," he said. "She has evidently made a tack out, and is now on the starboard tack again." "It will be a long leg and a short one with her, sir," the skipper said. "I think that if we were in her place we could just manage to lay our course along the coast, but with those square yards of hers, she cannot go as close to the wind as we can. As it is, we can lay our course to cut her off." "It would be rather a close pinch to do so before she gets to the head of the bay," Frank said. "Yes, sir, and I don't suppose that we shall overhaul her before that, but we certainly shan't be far behind her by the time she gets there. I think that we shall cut her off if the wind holds as it does now. At any rate, if she should get there first, we should certainly lie between her and Cuba, and she will have either to run back, or to round the cape, or to run east or south. I wish the wind would freshen; but I fancy that it is more likely to die away. Still, she is walking along well at present." Even Frank, anxious as he was, could not but feel satisfied as he looked at the water glancing past her side. She was heeling well over, and the rustle of water at her bow could be heard where they were standing near the tiller. Andrews, the best helmsman on board the yacht, held the tiller rope, and Perry was standing beside him. From time to time Frank went up to the crosstrees. "We are drawing in upon her fast," he said, "but she is travelling well, too; much better than I should have thought she would have done with that rig. I think she has got a better wind than we have. She has only made one short tack in for the last two hours." The captain's prognostication as to the wind was verified, and to Frank's intense annoyance it gradually died away, and headed them so much that they could no longer lie their course. "What shall we do, sir? Shall we hold across to the south shore and work along by it, as the schooner is doing, or shall we go about at once?" "Go about at once, Hawkins. You see we can see her topsails from the deck; and of course she can see ours. I don't suppose she has paid any attention to us yet, and if we stand away on the other tack we shall soon drop her altogether; while if we hold on she will, when we reach that shore, be three or four miles behind us. Of course, she will have a full view of us." They sailed on the port tack for an hour and then came round again. The brigantine could no longer be seen from the deck, and could only just be made out from the crosstrees. "I think on this tack," the skipper said, as he stood by the compass after she had gone round, "we shall make the point, and I think that we shall make it ahead of her." "I think so too, Hawkins. What pace is she going now?" "Not much more than four knots, sir." "My only fear is that we shan't get near her before it is dark." "I think that we have plenty of time for that, sir. You see we got up anchor at half-past six, and it is just twelve o'clock now. Another five hours should take us up to her if the wind holds at this." By two o'clock the topsails of the brigantine could be again made out from the deck. She was still working along shore, and was on their port bow. "Another three hours and we shall be alongside of her," the skipper said; "and if I am not mistaken we shall come out ahead of her." "There is one advantage in the course we are taking, Hawkins. Viewing us, as she will, pretty nearly end on till we get nearly abreast of her, she won't be able to make out our rig clearly." By four o'clock they were within five miles of the brigantine. The wind then freshened, and laying her course as she did, while the brigantine was obliged to make frequent tacks, the Osprey ran down fast towards her. "They must have their eyes on us by this time," the captain said. "Though they cannot be sure that it is the Osprey, they can see that she is a yawl of over a hundred tons, and as they cannot doubt that we are chasing them, they won't be long in guessing who we are. Shall we get the arms up, sir?" "Yes, you may as well do so. The muskets can be loaded and laid by the bulwarks, but they are not to be touched until I give the order. No doubt they also are armed. I am anxious not to fire a shot if it can be helped, and once alongside we are strong enough to overpower them with our cutlasses only. With the five blacks we are now double their strength, and even Carthew may see the uselessness of offering any resistance." They ran down until they were within a mile of the shore, not being now more than a beam off the brigantine. Two female figures had some time before been made out on her deck, but they had now disappeared. It was evident that the Osprey was being closely watched by those on board the brigantine. Presently two or three men were seen to run aft. "They are going to tack again, sir. If they do they will come right out to us." Frank made no reply, but stood with his glass fixed on the brigantine. Suddenly he exclaimed: "Round with her, Hawkins!" "Up with your helm, Andrews. Hard up, man!" the skipper shouted, as he himself ran to slack out the main sheet. Four men ran aft to assist him. "That will do," he said, as she fell off fast from the wind. "Now, then, gather in the main sheet, ready for a jibe. Slack off the starboard runner; a couple of hands aft and get the square sail out of the locker. "Mr. Purvis, get the yard across her, lower her down ready for the sail, and see that the braces and guys are all right. "Now in with the sheet, lads, handsomely. That will do, that is it. Over she goes. Slack out the sheet steadily." "She is round, too," Frank said, as the boom went off nearly square. "We have gained, and she is not more than half a mile away." The manoeuvre had, in fact, brought the yachts nearer to each other. Both had their booms over to starboard. "Quick with that square sail," Frank shouted. "She is drawing away from us fast." Two minutes later the square sail was hoisted, and the foot boomed out on the port side. Every eye was now fixed on the brigantine, but to their disappointment they saw that she was still, though very much more slowly, drawing ahead. "That is just what I feared," Frank said, in a tone of deep vexation. "With those big yards I was certain that she would leave us when running ahead before the wind. However, there is no fear of our leaving her. What are we doing now? Seven knots?" "About that, sir, and she is doing a knot better." "What do you think that she will do now, Hawkins?" "I don't see what she has got to do, sir. If she were to get five miles ahead of us, and then haul her wind, she would know that she could not go away from us, for we should be to windward; and we are evidently a good bit faster than she is when we are both close hauled. The only other thing that I can see for her to do is to run straight on to Port au Prince. At the rate we are going now she would be in soon after daylight tomorrow. We should be seven or eight miles astern of her, and he might think that we should not venture to board her there." "I don't think that he would rely on that, Hawkins. Now that he knows who we are, he will guess that we shall stick at nothing. What I am afraid of is that he will lower a boat and row Miss Greendale and her maid ashore. He might do it either there, or, what would be much more likely, row ashore to some quiet place during the night, take his friend and two or three of his men with him, and leave the rest to sail her to Port au Prince." "I don't think that the wind is going to hold," the skipper said, looking astern. "I reckon that it will drop, as it generally does, at sunset. It is not blowing so hard now as it did just before we wore round." In half an hour, indeed, it fell so light that the Osprey was standing through the water only at three and a half knots an hour. The light wind suited the Phantom, with her great sail spread. She had now increased her lead to a mile and a half, and was evidently leaving them fast. "There is only one thing to be done, George. We must board them in boats." "I am ready, Major; but it will be a rather risky business." Frank looked at him in surprise. "I don't mean for us, sir," George said, with a smile, "but for Miss Greendale. You may be sure that those fellows will fight hard, and as we come up behind we shall get it hot. Now, sir, if anything happens to you, you must remember that the Osprey will be as good as useless towards helping her. You as her owner might be able to justify what we are doing, but if you were gone there would be no one to take the lead. Carthew would only have to sail into Port au Prince and denounce us as pirates. I hear from the pilot that these niggers have got some armed ships, and they might sink us as soon as we came into the harbour, and then there would be an end to any chance of Miss Greendale getting her liberty." "That is true enough, George, but I think that it must be risked. Now that he knows we are here, he has nothing to do but to send her ashore under the charge of his friend and two or three of the sailors, and take her up into the hills. Or he might go with her himself, which is perhaps more likely. Then when we came up with her at Port au Prince the skipper would simply deny that there had ever been any ladies on board, and would swear that he had only carried out two gentlemen passengers, as his papers would show, and might declare that he had landed them at Porto Rico. Of course, they are certain to fight now, for they can do so without risk, as they can swear that they took us for a pirate. "How many do you think that the gig will carry, Hawkins?" "Well, sir, you might put nine in her. You brought ten off at Southampton; but if you remember, it put her very low in the water, and we should run a good deal heavier than your party then." "Yes, I think that we had better take only nine. If we overload her she will row so heavily that we shall be a long time overhauling them." "I am not quite sure that we shall overhaul them anyhow, sir. Look at those clouds coming over the hills. They are travelling fast, and I should say that we are likely to have a squall. No doubt they get them here pretty often with such high land all round." "Well, we must chance that, Hawkins. If one does come you must pick us up as we come along. I agree with you; it does look as if we should have a squall. It may not be anything very serious, but anyhow, if it comes it will take her along a great deal faster than we can row. "Purvis, I suppose that the dinghy will carry seven?" "Yes, she will do that easily." "Very well, we can but try; that will give sixteen of us, which is about their strength. You must remain on board. Purvis shall command the dinghy; Lechmere will go with me. Pick out thirteen hands. You and Perry can manage with seven and the five negroes, but keep a sharp lookout for that squall. Remember that you will have very short warning. We are only a mile from the shore, and as it is coming down from the hills you may not see it on the water until it is quite close to you." The boats were lowered, and the men, armed with musket and cutlass, took their places. Frank and George Lechmere each had a cutlass and a revolver buckled to the waist. "Now give way, lads," Frank said. "She is about two miles ahead of us, and we ought to overtake her in half an hour." It was now getting dusk, the light fading out suddenly as the clouds spread over the sky. Frank's last orders to the skipper before leaving were: "Edge her in, Hawkins, until you are dead astern of the brigantine. Then if the squall comes down before we reach her, we shall be right in your track." "I have put a lighted lantern into the stern sheets of each boat, sir, and have thrown a bit of sail cloth over them, so that if she leaves you behind, and you hold it up, there won't be any fear of our missing you." The men rowed hard, but the gig had to stop frequently to let the dinghy come up. They gained, however, fast upon the brig, and in half an hour were but a few hundred yards astern. Then came a hail from the brigantine in French: "Keep off or we will sink you!" No reply was made. They were but two hundred yards away when there were two bright flashes from the stern of the brigantine, and a shower of bullets splashed round the boats. There were two or three cries of pain, and George Lechmere felt Frank give a sudden start. "Are you hit, sir?" "I have got a bullet in my left shoulder, George, but it is of no consequence. "Row on, lads," he shouted. "We shall be alongside before they have time to load again. "I never thought of their having guns, though," he went on, as the men recovered from their surprise, and dashed on again with a cheer. "By the sharp crack they must be brass. I suppose he picked up a couple of small guns at Ostend, thinking that they might be useful to him in these waters." A splattering fire of musketry now broke out from the brigantine. They had lessened their distance by half when they saw the brigantine, without apparent cause, heel over. Farther and farther she went until her lee rail was under water. The firing instantly ceased, and there were loud shouts on board; then, as she came up into the wind, the square yards were let fall, and the crew ran up the ratlines to secure the sails. Simultaneously the foresail came down, then her head payed off again, and she darted away like an arrow from the boats. These, however, had ceased rowing. Frank, as he saw the brigantine bowing over, had shouted to Purvis to put the boat's head to the wind, doing the same himself. A few seconds afterwards the squall struck them with such force that some of the oars were wrenched from the hands of the men, who were unprepared for the attack. "Steady, men, steady!" Frank shouted. "It won't last long. Keep on rowing, so as to hold the boat where you are, till the yacht comes along. It won't be many minutes before she is here." In little over a quarter of an hour she was seen approaching, and Frank saw that, in spite of the efforts of the men at the oars, the boats had been blown some distance to leeward. However, as soon as the lanterns were held up the Osprey altered her course, and the captain, taking her still further to leeward, threw her head up to the wind until they rowed alongside her. Frank had by this time learned that one of the men in the bow had been killed, and that three besides himself had been wounded. Two were wounded on board the dinghy. "So they have got some guns," the skipper said, as they climbed on deck. "No one hurt, I hope?" "There is one killed, I am sorry to say, and five wounded," Frank replied; "but none of them seriously. I have got a bullet in my shoulder, but that is of no great consequence. So you got through it all right?" "Yes, sir, it looked so nasty that I got the square-sail off her and the topsail on deck before it struck us, and as we ran the foresail down just as it came we were all right, and only just got the water on deck. It was as well, though, that we were lying becalmed. As it was, she jumped away directly she felt it. I was just able to see the brigantine, and it seemed to me that she had a narrow escape of turning turtle." "Yes, they were too much occupied with us to be keeping a sharp lookout at the sky, and if it had been a little stronger it would have been a close case with her. Thank God that it was no worse. Can you make her out still?" "Yes, sir, I can see her plainly enough with my glasses." In a quarter of an hour the strength of the squall was spent. The wind then veered round to its former quarter, taking the Osprey along at the rate of some five knots an hour. The wounded were now attended to. George Lechmere found that the ball had broken Frank's collarbone and gone out behind. Both he and Frank had had sufficient experience to know what should be done, and after bathing the wound, and with the assistance of two sailors, who pulled the arm into its place, George applied some splints to the broken bone to keep it firm, and then bandaged it and the arm. One of the sailors had a wound in the cheek, the ball in its passage carrying off part of the ear. One of the men sitting in the bow had a broken arm, but only one of the others was seriously hurt. Frank went on deck again as soon as his shoulder was bandaged and his left arm strapped tightly to his side. "I suppose that she is still gaining on us, Hawkins?" "Yes, she is dropping us. I reckon she has gone fast, sir, fully half a knot, though we have got all sail set." "There is one comfort," Frank said. "The coast from here as far as the Bec is so precipitous, that they won't have a chance of putting the boat ashore until they get past that point, and by the time they are there daylight will have broken." Chapter 16. The stars were bright, and with the aid of a night glass the brigantine was kept in sight; the sailors relieving each other at the masthead every half hour. Frank would have stayed on deck all night, had not George Lechmere persuaded him to go below. "Look here, Major," he said. "It is like enough that we may have a stiff bit of fighting tomorrow. Now we know that those fellows have guns, though they may be but two or three pounders, and it is clear that it is not going to be altogether such a one-sided job as we looked for. You have had a long day already, sir. You have got an ugly wound, and if you don't lie down and keep yourself quiet, you won't be fit to do your share in any fighting tomorrow; and I reckon that you would like to be in the front of this skirmish. You know in India wounds inflamed very soon if one did not keep quiet with them, and I expect that it is just the same here. "It is not as if you could do any good on deck. The men are just as anxious to catch that brigantine as you are. They were hot enough before, but now that one of their mates has been killed, and five or six wounded, I believe that they would go round the world rather than let her slip through their hands. I shall be up and down all night, Major, and the captain and both mates will be up, too, and I promise that we will let you know if there is anything to tell you." "Well, I will lie down, George, but I know that I shall get no sleep. Still, perhaps, it will be better for me to keep my arm quite quiet." He was already without his coat, for that had been cut from the neck down to the wrist, to enable George to get at the wound. He kicked off his light canvas shoes, and George helped him to lie down in his berth. "You will be sure to let me know if she changes her course or anything?" "I promise you that I will come straight down, Major." Three quarters of an hour later, George stole noiselessly down and peeped into the stateroom. He had turned down the swinging lamp before he went up, but there was enough light to enable him to see that his master had fallen off to sleep. He took the news up to Hawkins, who at once gave orders that no noise whatever was to be made. The men still moved about the deck, but all went barefooted. "The wind keeps just the same," Hawkins said. "I can't make it more than three and a half knots through the water. I would give a year's pay if it would go round dead ahead of us; we should soon pick her up then. As it is, she keeps crawling away. However, we can make her out, on such a night as this, a good deal further than she is likely to get before morning. Besides, we shall be having the moon up soon, and as we are steering pretty nearly east, it will show her up famously. "Now I will give you the same advice that you gave the governor. You had much better lie down for a bit. Purvis has gone down for a sleep, Perry will go down when he comes up at twelve, and I shall get an hour or two myself later on." "I won't go down," George said, "but I will bring a couple of blankets up and lie down aft. I promised the Major that I would let him know if there was any change in the wind, or in the brigantine's course, so wake me directly there is anything to tell him. I have put his bell within reach. I have no doubt I shall hear it through that open skylight if he rings; but if not, wake me at once." "All right. Trust us for that." Twice during the night George got up and went below. The first time Frank had not moved. The second he found that the tumbler of lime juice and water, on the table at the side of the bunk, was nearly half emptied; and that his master had again gone off to sleep and was breathing quietly and regularly. "He is going on all right," he said to Hawkins, when he went up. "There is no fever yet, anyhow, for he has drunk only half that glass of lime juice. If he had been feverish he would not have stopped until he had got to the bottom of it." When George next woke, the morning was breaking. "Anything new?" he asked Purvis, who was now at the tiller. "Nothing whatever. The governor has not rung his bell. The wind is just as it was, neither better nor worse, and the brigantine is eight miles ahead of us." George went forward to have a look at her. "I think I had better wake him," he said to himself. "He will have had nine hours of it, and he won't like it if I don't let him know that it is daylight. I will get two or three fresh limes squeezed, and then go in to him." This time Frank opened his eyes as he entered. "Morning is breaking, Major, and everything is as it was. I hope that you are feeling better for your sleep. Let me help you up. Here is a tumbler of fresh lime juice." "I feel right enough, George. I can scarcely believe that it is morning. How I have slept--and I fancied that I should not have gone off at all." Drinking off the lime juice, Frank at once followed Lechmere on deck, and after a word or two with Purvis hurried forward. "She is a long way ahead," he said, with a tone of disappointment. "The mate reckoned it between seven and eight miles, Major." "How far is she from the Bec?" "I don't know, sir. I did not ask Purvis." Frank went aft and repeated the question. "I fancy that that is the Bec, the furthermost point that we can see," Purvis said, "and I reckon that she is about halfway to it." "Keep her a point or two out, Purvis. The line of shore is pretty straight beyond that, and I want of all things not to lose sight of her for a moment. I would give a good deal to know what she is going to do. I cannot think that she is going to try to go round the southeast point of the island, for if she were she would have laid her head that way before." The Osprey edged out until they opened the line of coast beyond the headland, and then kept her course again. There was a trifle more wind as the sun rose higher, and the yacht went fully a knot faster through the water. In less than two hours the brigantine was abreast of the headland. Presently Frank exclaimed: "She is hauling in her wind." "That she is, sir," Hawkins, who had just come on deck, exclaimed. "She surely cannot be going to run into the bay." "She can be going to do nothing else," Frank said. "What on earth does she mean by it? No doubt that scoundrel is going to land with Miss Greendale, but why should he leave the Phantom at our mercy, when he could have sent her on to Port au Prince?" "I cannot think what he is doing, sir; but he must have some game on, or he would never act like that." "Of course, he may have arranged to go with the lady to some place up in the hills; but why should he sacrifice the yacht?" "It is a rum start anyhow, and I cannot make head or tail of it. Of course you will capture her, sir?" "I don't know, Hawkins. It is one thing to attack her when she has Miss Greendale on board, but if she has gone ashore it would be very like an act of piracy." "Yes, sir. But then, you see, they fired into our boat, and killed one of our men, and wounded you and four or five others." "That is right enough, Hawkins, but we cannot deny that they did it in self defence. Of course, we know that they must have recognised us, and knew what our errand was, but her captain and crew would be ready to swear that they didn't, and that they were convinced by our actions that we were pirates. At any rate, you may be sure that the blacks would retain both craft, and that we should be held prisoners for some considerable time, while Miss Greendale would be a captive in the hands of Carthew. I should attack the brigantine if I knew her to be on board, and should be justified in doing so, even if it cost a dozen lives to capture her; but I don't think I should be justified in risking a single life in attacking the brigantine if she were not on board. To do so would, in the first place, be a distinct act of piracy; and in the second, if we got possession of the brigantine we should have gained nothing by it." "We might burn her, sir." "Yes, we might, and run the risk of being hung for it. We might take her into Port au Prince, but we have no absolute evidence against her. We could not swear that we had positive knowledge that Miss Greendale was on board, and certain as I am that the female figures I made out on the deck were she and her maid, they were very much too far away to recognise them, and the skipper might swear that they were two negresses to whom he was giving a passage. "Moreover, if I took the brigantine I should only cut off Carthew's escape in that direction. His power over Miss Greendale would be just as great, if he had her up among those mountains among the blacks, as it was when he had her on board. I can see that I have made a horrible mess of the whole business, and that is the only thing that I can see. Yesterday I thought it was the best thing to start on a direct chase, as it seemed absolutely certain to me that we should overhaul and capture her. Now I see that it was the worst thing I could have done, and that I ought to have waited until I could take her in the bay." "But you see, Major," said George Lechmere, who was standing by, "if we had gone on searching with the boat, before we had made an examination of the whole bay, there would be no knowing where she had gone, and it might have been months before we could have got fairly on her track again." "No, we acted for the best; but things have turned out badly, and I feel more hopelessly at sea, as to what we had better do next, than I have done since the day I got to Ostend. At any rate, there is nothing to be done until we have got a fair sight of the brigantine." It seemed, to all on board, that the Osprey had never sailed so sluggishly as she did for the next hour and a half. As they expected, no craft was to be seen on the waters of the bay as they rounded the point, but Dominique and the other pilot had been closely questioned, and both asserted that at the upper end of the bay there was a branch that curved round "like dat, sar," the latter said, half closing his little finger. Progress up the bay was so slow that the boats were lowered, and the yacht was towed to the mouth of the curved branch. Here they were completely landlocked, and the breeze died away altogether. "How long is this bend, Jake?" Frank asked the second pilot in French. "Two miles, sir; perhaps two miles and a half." "Deep water everywhere?" "Plenty of water; can anchor close to shore. Country boats run in here very often if bad weather comes on. Foreign ships never come here. They always run on to the town." "You told us that there were a few huts at the end." "Yes, sir. There is a village there, two others near." The crew had all armed themselves, and the muskets were again placed ready for use. "You had better go round, Hawkins," Frank said, "and tell them that on no account is a shot to be fired unless I give orders. Tell the men that I am just as anxious to fight as they are, and that if they give us a shadow of excuse we will board them." "I went round among the men half an hour ago, sir, and told them how the land lay, and Lechmere has been doing the same. They all want to fight, but I have made them see that it might be a very awkward business for us all." The men in the boats were told to take it easy, and it was the best part of an hour before they saw, on turning the last bend, the brigantine lying at anchor a little more than a quarter of a mile away. "She looks full of men," Frank exclaimed, as turned his glasses upon her. "Yes, sir," said the captain, who was using a powerful telescope, "they are blacks. There must be fifty of them beside the crew, and as far as I can see most of them are armed." "That explains why he came in here, Hawkins. They have been using this place for the last three weeks, and no doubt have made good friends with the negroes. I dare say Carthew has spent his money freely on them. "Well, this settles it. We would attack them at sea without hesitation, however many blacks there might be on board, but to do so now would be the height of folly. Five of our men are certainly not fit for fighting, so that their strength in whites is nearly equal to ours. They have got those two little cannon, which would probably reduce our number a bit before we got alongside, and with fifty blacks to help them it is very doubtful whether we should be able to take them by boarding. Certainly we could not do so without very heavy loss. "We will anchor about two hundred and fifty yards outside her. As long as she lies quiet there we will leave her alone. If she tries to make off we will board her at once. Anchor with the kedge; that will hold her here. Have a buoy on the cable and have it ready to slip at a moment's notice, and the sails all ready to hoist." "Easy rowing," the captain called to the men in the boats, "and come alongside. We have plenty of way on her to take up a berth." In two or three minutes the anchor was dropped and the sails lowered. "Now I will row across to her," Frank said, "and tell them that I don't want to attack them, but I am determined to search their craft." "No, Major," George Lechmere said, firmly. "We are not going to let you throw away your life, and you have no right to do it--at any rate not until after Miss Greendale is rescued. You may be sure of one thing: that Carthew has left orders before going on shore that you are to be shot if you come within range. He will know that if you are killed there will be an end of the trouble. I will go myself, sir." Frank made no answer for a minute or two. Then he said: "In that case you would be shot instead of me. If Carthew is on shore, as I feel sure he is, the others won't know you from me. I agree with you that I cannot afford to risk my life just now, and yet we must search that brigantine." "Me go, sar," Dominique, who was standing by, said suddenly. "Me take two black fellows in dinghy. Dey no fire at us. Me go dere, tell captain dat you no want to have to kill him and all his crew, but dat you got to search dat craft. If he let search be made, den no harm come of it. If he say no, den we take yacht alongside and kill every man jack. Say dat white sailors all furious, because dey fire at us yesterday, and want bad to have fight." "Very well, Dominique. It can do no harm anyhow, and as I feel sure that the lady has been taken ashore, I don't see why they should refuse." Accordingly, Dominique called to two of the negro boatmen to get into the dinghy, and took his seat in the stern. When the boat was halfway between the two vessels there was a hail in French: "What do you want? If you come nearer we will fire." "What want to fire for?" Dominique shouted back. "Me pilot, me no capture ship, single handed. Me want to speak to captain." It was evident the answer was understood, for no reply came for a minute or two. "Well, come along then." The words could be heard perfectly on board the yacht. "The skipper talks English, George. I thought that he would do so. Carthew was sure to have shipped someone who could understand him. I don't suppose his French is any better than mine." The dinghy was rowed to within ten yards of the brigantine. "Now, what message have you brought me from that pirate?" "Him no pirate at all. You know dat bery well, massa captain. Dat English yacht; anyone see dat with half an eye. De gentleman there says you have a lady on board dat has been carried off." "Then he is a liar!" the Belgian said. "There is no woman on board at all!" "Well, sar, dat am a matter ob opinion. English gentleman tink dat you hab. You say no. Dat prove bery easy. De gentleman say he wants to search ship. If as you say, she is no here, den ob course no reason for you to say no to dat. If on de other hand you say no, den he quite sure he right, and he come and search whether you like it or no. Den der big fight. Bery strong crew on board dat yacht. Plenty guns, men all bery savage, cause you kill one of der fellows last night. Dey want to fight bad, and if dey come dey kill many. What de use of dat, sar? Why say won't let search if lady not here? Nothing to fight about. But if you not let us see she not here, den we board de ship, and when we take her we burn her." The Belgian stood for two or three minutes without answering. They had seen that there were two or three and twenty men on board the Osprey, and they were by no means sure that this was the entire number. There were three blacks, and there might be a number of them lying down behind the bulwarks or kept below. The issue of a fight seemed to him doubtful. He was by no means sure that his men would fight hard in a cause in which they had no personal interest; and as for the blacks, they would not count for much in a hand-to-hand fight with English sailors. He had received no orders as to what to do in such a contingency. Presently he turned to three of his men and said in French: "Go to that stern cabin, and see that there is nothing about that would show that it has been occupied. They have asked to search us. Let them come and find nothing. Things will go quietly. If not, they say they will attack us and kill every man on board and burn the ship, and as we do not know how many men they may have on board, and as they can do us no harm by looking round, if there is nothing for them to find, we had best let them do it. But mind, the orders hold good. If the owner of that troublesome craft comes alongside, you are to pour in a volley and kill him and the sailors with him. That will make so many less to fight if it comes to fighting. But the owner tells me that if he is once killed there will be an end of it." He then went to the side, and said to Dominique: "There is nothing for you to find here. We are an honest trader, and there is nothing worth a pirate's stealing. But in order to show you that I am speaking the truth, I have no objection to two hands coming on board and going through her. We have nothing to hide." Dominique rowed back to the yacht. "Dey will let her be searched, sar." "I thought they would," Frank said; "and of course that is a sign that there is no one there." "I will go, sir," the skipper said, "as we agreed. He would give anything to get rid of you, and you might be met with a volley when you came alongside. And now there ain't no use in running risks. If they have been told what you are like, they cannot mistake me for you. You are pretty near a foot taller, and you are better than ten years younger, and I haven't any hair on my face. I will go through her. I am sure the lady ain't there, or they would not let me. Still, I will make sure. There are no hiding places in a yacht where anyone could be stowed away, and of course she is, like us, chock full of ballast up to the floor. I shan't be many minutes about it, sir. Dominique may as well go with me. He can stay on deck while I go below, and may pick up something from the black fellows there." "You may as well take him, Hawkins; but you may be very sure that they won't give him a chance to speak to anyone." The captain stepped into the boat and was rowed to the yacht. He and Dominique stepped on to the deck and were lost sight of among the blacks. In ten minutes they appeared at the gangway again, and stepped into their boat. Another minute and she was alongside the Osprey. "Of course, you found nothing, Hawkins." "Nothing whatever, sir. Anything the lady may have left behind had been stowed away in lockers. I looked about to see if I could sight a bit of ribbon or some other woman's fal-lal, but they had gone ever it carefully. Two of the other state cabins had been occupied. There were men's clothes hanging there. Of course, I looked into every cupboard where as much as a child could have been stowed away, and looked round the forecastle. Anyhow, there is no woman there now. "Dominique had to go round with me. The captain evidently did not want to give him a chance of speaking to anyone. The mate and two of the sailors posted themselves at the gangway, so that the two blacks should not be able to talk to the niggers on board. And now, sir, what is to be done next?" "We will go below and talk it over, captain. "You come down, too, George. Yes, and Dominique. He may be useful. "Now, Hawkins," he went on, when they had taken their seats at the table, "of course, I have been thinking it over all the morning, and I have come to the conclusion that our only chance now is to fight them with their own weapons. As long as we lie here there is no chance whatever of Miss Greendale being brought on board again, so the chase now has got to be carried on on land. If we go to work the right way, there is no reason why we should not be able to trace her. I propose to take Lechmere and Dominique and the four black boatmen. If we stain our faces a little, and put on a pair of duck trousers, white shirts, red sashes, and these broad straw hats I bought at San Domingo, we shall look just like the half-caste planters we saw in the streets there. I should take Pedro, too, but you will want him to translate anything you have to say to Jake. "I propose that as soon as it is dark tonight we muffle the oars of the dinghy, and row away and land lower down, say a mile or so; and then make off up into the hills before tomorrow morning. Dominique will try to find out something by inquiring at some of the huts of the blacks. They are not likely to know, but if he offers them a handsome reward to obtain news for him, they will go down to the villages and ferret out something. The people there would not be likely to know where they have been taken, but they would be able to point out the direction in which they went on starting. Then we could follow that up, and inquire again. "We might take a couple of the villagers with us. Belonging here, they would have more chance of getting news from other blacks than strangers would have." "Don't you think, sir, that it would be as well to have four or five men with you?" Hawkins said. "There is no doubt this fellow that you are after is a desperate chap, and he may have got a strong body of these blacks as a guard. He might suspect that, after having pursued him all this way, you might try to follow him on land. You could put the men in hiding somewhere every day while you were making inquiries, and they would be mighty handy if it came to fighting, which it seems to me it is pretty sure to do before you see the lady off." "Well, perhaps it would be best, Hawkins; and, as you say, by keeping them hid all day I don't see that they could increase our difficulties. But then, you see, you will want all your hands here; for if the brigantine sails, whether by night or day, you are to sail too, and to keep close to her wherever she goes. It is not likely that Carthew and Miss Greendale will be on board, but he may very well send orders down to the brigantine to get up the anchor. He would know that we should stick to her, as Miss Greendale might have been taken on board again at night. In that way he would get rid of us from here, and would calculate that we should get tired of following the brigantine in time, or that she would be able to give us the slip, and would then make for some place where he could join her again. So my orders to you will be to stick to her, but not to interfere with her in any way, unless, by any chance, you should discover that Miss Greendale is really on board. In that case I authorise you to board and capture her. They won't have the blacks on board, and as the wounded are going on all right, and three of them, anyhow, will be able to lend a hand in a couple of days, you will be a match for them; especially as they will soon make up their minds that you don't mean to attack them, and you will get a chance of running alongside and taking them by surprise." "Well, sir, I think that we can do that with four hands less than we have now. You see, there are nineteen and the two mates and myself. Say two of the wounded won't be able to lend a hand, that makes us twenty, to say nothing of Jake and Pedro. So, even if you took four hands, we should be pretty even in numbers; and if our men could not each whip two Belgians, they had better give up the sea." "Yes, I have no doubt that they could do that, and were it not for Carthew and his friend I would not hesitate to take eight men. I don't know about the other, but you may be sure that Carthew will fight hard. He is playing a desperate game. Still, I think that I might take four, especially as I think the chance of Miss Greendale's being brought on board, until he believes that we have left these waters, is very small. "Very well, then, that is settled. The five blacks, Lechmere and myself, and four of the sailors, will make a strong party. Serve muskets and cutlasses out to the blacks; and the same, with a brace of pistols, to each of the hands that go with us. While we are away let two of the men dress up in my white duck shirts and jackets, and in white straw hats. Let them always keep aft, and sit about in the deck chairs, and always go down below by the main companion. That will make them think that I am still on board; while if there is no one on the deck aft they will soon guess that we have landed. "You understand all that we have been saying, Dominique?" "Me understand, sar, and tink him bery good plan. Me suah to find out which way dat rascal hab gone. Plenty of black fellows glad to earn two dollar to guide us. Dey no money here. Two dollars big sum to them." "All right, Dominique, but we won't stick at two dollars. If it were necessary I would pay two hundred cheerfully for news." "We find dem widout dat," the black said, confidently. "Not good offer too much. If black man offered two dollars he bery glad. If offered twenty he begin to say to himself, 'Dis bery good affair; perhaps someone else give forty.'" "There is something in that, Dominique. Anyhow I shall leave that part of the business to you. As a rule, I shall keep in hiding with the boatmen and sailors all day. I shall be no good for asking questions, for I don't know much French, and the dialect the negroes of these islands speak is beyond me altogether. I cannot understand the boatmen at all." "Black men here bad, sar; not like dem in de other islands. Here dey tink themselves better than white men; bery ignorant fellows, sar. Most of dem lost religion, and go back to fetish. Bery bad dat. All sorts of bad things in dat affair. Kill children and women to make fetish. Bad people, sar, and dey are worse here than at San Domingo." There was nothing to do all day, but to sit on deck and watch the brigantine. Most of the blacks had been landed, and only three or four sailors remained on watch on deck. Frank and George Lechmere, in their broad straw hats, sat and smoked in the deck chairs; the former's eyes wandering over the mountains as if in search of something that might point out Bertha's hiding place. The hills were for the most part covered with trees, with here and there a little clearing and a patch of cultivated ground, with two or three huts in the centre. With the glasses solitary huts could be seen, half hidden by trees, here and there; and an occasional little wreath of light smoke curling up showed that there were others entirely hidden in the forest. "Don't you think, Major," George Lechmere said after a long pause, "that it would be a good thing to have the gig every night at some point agreed on, such as the spot where we land? You see, sir, there is no saying what may happen. We may have to make a running fight of it, and it would be very handy to have the boat to fall back upon." "Yes, I think that a good idea, George. I will tell Hawkins to send it ashore, say at ten o'clock every night. There is no chance whatever of our being down before that. They are sure to have taken her a long distance up the hills; and though, of course, one cannot say at present, it is pretty certain that we shall have to attack after dark. "It is important that we should land where there is some sort of a path. I noticed one or two such places as we came along. We may as well get into the dinghy and row down and choose a spot now. Of course, they will be watching from the brigantine, but when they see the same number that went come back again, they will suppose that we have only gone for a row, or perhaps to get a shot at anything we come across. We may as well take a couple of guns with us." A mile down the inlet they came upon just the spot they were searching for. The shore was level for a few yards from the water's edge, and from here there was a well-marked path going up the slope behind. "We will fix upon this spot, George. It will be easy for the boats to find it in the dark, from that big tree close to the water's edge. Now we will paddle about for half an hour before we go back." An hour later they returned to the yacht, and George began at once to make arrangements for the landing. Chapter 17. "I Should keep watch and watch regularly, Hawkins. I do not say that it is likely, but it is quite possible that they may make an attempt to surprise us, cut all our throats, and then sink the Osprey. He might attack with his boats, and with a lot of native craft. At any rate, it is worth while keeping half the crew always on deck. Be sure and light the cabin as usual. They would suspect that I was away if they did not see the saloon skylights lit up. "There is no saying when I may be back. It may be three nights, it may be six, or, for all that I know, it may be longer than that. You may be sure that if I get a clue I shall follow it up wherever it leads me." The strictest silence was maintained among the men. The two men at the oars were told to row very slowly, and above all things to avoid splashing. The boat was exceedingly low in the water, much too low for safety except in perfectly calm water; as, including the two men at the oars, there were thirteen on board. Frank had thought it, however, inadvisable to take the dinghy also, for this was lying behind the stern, and it might have been noticed had they pulled her up to the gangway. The gig had been purposely left on the side hidden from the brigantine, and as they rowed away pains were taken to keep the yacht in a line with her. They held on this course, indeed, until they were close in to the shore, and then kept in under its shelter until the curve hid them altogether. "Be very careful as you row back, lads, and go very slowly. A ripple on this smooth water might very well be noticed by them, even if they could not make out a boat." "Ay, ay, sir, we will be careful." They had brought a lantern with them, covered with canvas, except for a few inches in front. "Me take him, sar, and go first," Dominique said. "Den if we meet anyone you all stop quiet, and me go on and talk with them." Frank followed Dominique, George keeping beside him where there was room for two to walk abreast, at other times falling just behind. Then came the sailors, and the four black boatmen were in the rear. They had been told that, in case they were halted, and heard Dominique in conversation, they were to pass quietly through the others, and be ready to join him and help him if necessary. With the exception of Dominique, Frank and George Lechmere, all carried muskets. The pilot declined to take one. "Me neber fired off gun in my life, sar. Me more afraid of gun than of dose rascals. Dominique fight with um sword; dat plenty good for him." The path mounted the hill until they were, as Frank thought, some three hundred feet above the water. Here the ground was cultivated, and after walking for ten minutes they saw two or three lights in front. "You stop here, sar," Dominique said, handing the lantern to Frank. "Me go on and see how best get round de village. Must not be seen here. If native boat come in at night suah to go up to end ob water, and land at village dere." The negro soon returned, and said that the cultivated land extended on both sides of the village, and there was no difficulty in crossing it. The village was passed quietly, and when it was once well behind them they came down upon the path again, which was much larger and better marked than it had been before. After following it for half a mile, they came upon a road, which led obliquely up from the water, and ran somewhat inland. "This is no doubt the road from the village at the head of the arm of the bay. They have probably come along here, though they may have turned more directly into the hills. That is the first point to find out, Dominique." "Yes, sar, next village we see me go in wid two ob de boatmen and ask a few questions." Following the path along for another few hundred yards, they saw a road ahead of them. Here they halted, and two of the blacks handed over their muskets and cutlasses to the care of the sailors. Dominique also left his cutlass behind him, and as he went on gave instructions to his two companions. "Now look here," he said in negro French, "don't you say much. I will do the talking, but just say a word or two if they ask questions. Mind we three belong to the brigantine. I am the pilot. The captain has given me a message to send to his friends who have gone up into the hills. He asked me to take it, but I am not sure about the way. I am ready to pay well for a guide. I expect that they will say that the ladies came along, but that they do not know how they went afterwards. Then we ask him to come as guide, and promise to pay him very well." By this time they were close to the hut, which, as Dominique assured himself before knocking at the door, stood alone. There was an old man and woman inside, and a boy of about seventeen. Dominique took off his hat as he entered, and said in French: "Excuse me for disturbing you so late. I am the pilot of a vessel now in the bay, and have been sent by the captain to carry an important message to a gentleman who landed with another and two ladies and some armed men. He did not give me sufficient directions to find him, and I thought that if they passed along here you might be able to put me in the way." "They came along here between eleven and twelve, I think. We saw them," the old man said, "and we heard afterwards that the ladies were being taken away because the ship was, they thought, going to be attacked by a pirate that had followed them. The people from the villages went to help fight, for the gentleman had bought many things and had paid well for them, and each man was promised a dollar if there was no fighting, and four dollars if they helped beat off the pirate." "Yes, that was so," Dominique said, "but it seems that it was a mistake. Still we had cause for alarm, for the other vessel followed us strangely. However, it is all explained now, and I have been sent with this message, because the captain thought that if he sent a white sailor they would not give him the information." "Do you know, Sebastian?" the old man asked his son. "Yes, they turned off to the right two miles further on." "Look here, boy," Dominique said, "we were promised twenty dollars if we took the message straight. Now, if you will go with us and find out, we will give you five of them. As we are strangers to the people here, they might not answer our questions; but if you go and say that you have to carry the message, no doubt they will tell you which way they have gone." The lad jumped up. "I will go with you," he said; "but perhaps when we get there you will not give me the money." "Look here," Dominique said, taking three dollars from his pocket. "I will leave these with your father, and will hand you the other two as soon as we get within sight of the place where they are." The lad was quite satisfied. Five dollars was more than he could earn by two months' work. As soon as they went out, Dominique whispered to one of the boatmen to go back and tell Frank what had taken place, and to beg him to follow at some distance behind. Whenever they took a fresh turning, one of the boatmen would always be left until he came up. Frank had some difficulty in understanding the boatman's French, and it was rather by his gestures than his words that he gathered his meaning. As soon as the message was given the negro hurried on until he overtook Dominique. "I am sorry now that we did not bring Pedro," Frank said. "However, I think we made out what he had to say. Dominique has got someone to go with him to do the questioning, as he arranged with me; and he will leave one or other of the men every time he turns off from the road he is following. That will be a very good arrangement. So far we have been most fortunate. We know now that we are following them, and it will be hard if we don't manage to keep the clue now that we have once got hold of it." When they came to the road that branched off to the right, the other boatman was waiting. He pointed up the road and then ran on silently ahead. No fresh turn was made for a long distance. Twice they were stopped by one of the blacks, who managed to inform them that Dominique and the guide were making inquiries at a hut ahead. The road had now become a mere track, and was continually mounting. Other tracks had branched off, leading, Frank supposed, to small hill villages. After going some ten miles, the lad told Dominique that it was useless for him to go further, for that there were no more huts near the track. Beyond the fact that the two women were on horseback when they passed the last hut, nothing was learned there. "It is of no use to go further," the guide said. "There are no houses near here to inquire at, and there are three or four more paths that turn off from here. We must stop until morning, and then I will go on alone and make inquiries of shepherds and cottagers; but, you see, I thought that we should find them tonight. If I work all day tomorrow, I shall expect three more dollars." "You shall have them," Dominique said. "Here is my blanket. I will share one with one of my boatmen." The lad at once lay down and pulled the blanket over his head. As soon as he did so, Dominique motioned to the two boatmen to do the same, and then went back along the track until he met Frank's party. As the hills were for the most part covered with trees almost up to their summits, Frank and his party had only to turn a short distance off from the path, on receiving Dominique's news that the guide had stopped. "It is half past one," Frank said, holding the lantern, which the pilot had left with them, to his watch. "We shall get four hours' sleep. You had better serve a tot of grog all round, George. It will keep out the damp night air." One of the blacks was carrying a basket, and each of the men had brought a water bottle and pannikin. "Put some water in it, lads," Frank said, "and it would be a good thing to eat a bit of biscuit with it." Dominique had told Frank that the guide had made some remark about the two blacks dropping behind so often, and the latter took out his handkerchief, tore it into eight pieces, and gave it to him. "Wherever you turn off, Dominique, drop one of these pieces on the path. That will be quite sufficient." "Yes, sar; but you see we don't know when we start up path whether it be right path or no. We go up one, if find dat hit not de one dey go, den come back again and try anoder. What we to do?" After thinking for some little time, Frank suggested that Dominique's best way would be to tell the guide that he was footsore, and that as several paths would have to be searched, he and one of the men would sit down there. The other would accompany the boy, and bring down word when the right path had been discovered. As soon as it became light Frank, without rousing the men, went out into the path and moved cautiously up it. He had but just started when he saw Dominique coming towards him. "All right, sar. Boy gone on; he hunt about. When he find he send Sam back to fetch me. De oder stay with him." "Oh, you have sent both with him." "Yes, sar, me thought it better. If only one man go, when he come back, boy could talk to people. Perhaps talk too much, so sent both men." "That was the best plan, no doubt," Frank agreed. "I will join the men, and remain there until you come for me." "Dat best thing, sar. People might come along, better dey not see you." It was twelve o'clock before Dominique joined the waiting group in the wood. "They have been a long time finding the track, Dominique." "Yes, sar, bery long time. Dey try four tracks, all wrong. Den dey try 'nother. Sam say boy tell him try that last, because bad track; lead ober hills, to place where Obi man live. Black fellow no like to go there. Bad men there; steal children away, make sacrifice to fetish. All people here believe that Obi man bery strong. Dey send presents to him to make rain or to kill enemy, but dey no like go near him demselves. Dere was a hut a little up dat road. Party went by dere yesterday. No more houses on road. Sam say boy wait dere till he bring me back to him; den go home. Not like to go further; say can't miss way dat path. Leads straight to Obi man's place. Fetish on road strike people dead dat go dar without leab ob Obi man." "That will suit us well altogether," Frank said. "How far is it to where the guide is?" "One and a half hours' walk." "Then we will be off at once." All were glad to be on the move again, and in spite of the heat they proceeded at a rapid pace, until the boatman, Sam, said that they were close to the spot where he had left his companions with the guide. The rest then entered the wood, and Dominique went on with the boatman. Ten minutes later a young negro came down the path. They had no doubt that it was the guide. Dominique arrived two or three minutes later. "I suppose that was the guide that went down," Frank said, as he stepped out. "Dat him, sar," he said. "Quite sure path go to Obi man's place. It was miles away in centre of hills. I pretend want him to go on. He said no go for thousand dollars. So me pay him his money, and he go back. He tell me no use hunt for friends if Obi man hab not giben dem leab to go and see him. Den the fetish change dem all into snakes. If he gib leab and not know dat me and oder two men were friends, den de fetish change us into snakes." "Well, there is one comfort, Dominique, we shall be able to march boldly along without being afraid of meeting anyone." "Yes, sar. Sam be a little frightened, but not much. Not believe much in San Domingo about fetish. Dey better dan dese Hayti people. Still Sam not like it." "I suppose you told him that he was a fool, Dominique?" "Yes, sar. Me tell him, too, dat white man tink nothing ob Obi man. Hang him by neck if he tries fetish against dem." Having picked up Sam, they proceeded at a brisk pace along the path, Frank leading the way with George Lechmere. "You see," he said, "Carthew must have been uneasy in his mind all along. I have no doubt that directly he put into the bay, and decided to make this his headquarters, he set about preparing some place where he could carry them off to, and where there would be very little chance of their being traced. Down at the village by the water he heard of this Obi man. He has evidently great power in this part of the island. These fellows are all great rascals, and Carthew may have either gone or sent to him, and made arrangements that he and a party should if necessary be allowed to establish a camp in the valley where this fellow lives; of course, promising him a handsome present. He could have chosen no safer place. Following hard as we have done on his track, we have obtained a clue; but it is not probable that any of the natives whom Dominique has questioned has the smallest idea that the party were going towards this fetish man's place. In fact, the only man that could know it was the negro at that last hut, and you may be sure that were he questioned by any searching party he would not dare to give any information that might excite the anger of this man. "It is likely enough that this fellow has a gang of men with him, bound to him partly by interest and partly by superstitious fears. We shall probably have to reckon with these fellows in addition to Carthew's own force. He seems to have taken ten or twelve of the blacks from the village with him. They would have no fear of going when he told them that he was under the special protection of the fetish man. Then, you see, he has four of his own sailors, his friend and himself; so that we have an equal number of white men and five negroes against his ten or twelve and the fetishman's gang. "However, I hope that we shall have the advantage of a surprise. If so, I think that we may feel pretty confident that we shall, at any rate, in the first place, carry off Miss Greendale and her maid. The danger won't be in the attack, but in the retreat. That Obi fellow may raise the whole country against us. There is one thing--the population is scanty up here, and it won't be until we get down towards the lower ground that they will be able to muster strongly enough to be really formidable; but we may have to fight hard to get down to the boats. You see, it is a twenty miles' march. We shan't be able to go very fast, for, although Miss Greendale and her maid might keep up well for some distance, they would be worn out long before we got to the shore, while the black fellows would be able to travel by other paths, and to arouse the villagers as they went, and make it very hot indeed for us." "There is one thing--we shall have the advantage of darkness, Major, and in the woods it would be difficult for them to know how fast we were going. We might strike off into other paths, and, if necessary, carry Miss Greendale and her maid. We could make a couple of litters for them, and, with four to a litter, could travel along at a good rate of speed." In another three hours, they found that the path was descending into a deep and narrow valley. On the way they passed many of the fetish signs, so terrible to the negro's imagination. Pieces of blue string, with feathers and rags attached to them, were stretched across the path. Clumps of feathers hung suspended from the trees. Flat stones, with berries, shells, and crooked pieces of wood, were nailed against the trunks of the trees. At first the four negro boatmen showed signs of terror on approaching these mysterious symbols, and grew pale with fright when Frank broke the strings that barred the path; but when they saw that no evil resulted from the audacious act, and that no avenging bolt fell upon his head, they mustered up courage, and in time even grinned as the sailors made jeering remarks at the mysterious emblems. As soon as they began to descend into the valley, and it was evident that they were nearing their destination, Frank halted. "Now, Dominique, do you object to go down and find out all about it? I am quite ready to go, but you are less likely to be noticed than I am. There is no hurry, for we don't wish to move until within an hour of sunset, or perhaps two hours. There is no fear of our meeting with any interruption until we get back to the point where we started this morning, and it would be as well, therefore, to be back there just before dark." "Me go, sar. Me strip. Dat best; not seen so easy among de trees." "Quite right, Dominique. What we want to find out is the exact position of the camp and the hut, for no doubt they built a hut of some sort, where Miss Greendale is; and see how we can best get as close to it as possible. Then it would be as well to find out what sort of village this Obi man has got, and how many men it probably contains. But don't risk anything to do this. Our object is to surprise Carthew's camp, and we must take our chance as to the blacks. If you were seen, and an alarm given, Carthew might carry Miss Greendale off again. So don't mind about the Obi village, unless you are sure that you can obtain a view of it without risk of being seen." "Me manage dat, sar," the negro said, confidently. "Dey not on de lookout. Me crawl up among de trees and see eberyting; no fear whatsomeber." Dominique stripped and started down the path, while the rest retired into the shelter of the trees. An anxious two hours passed, the party listening intently for any sound that might tell of Dominique's being discovered. All, however, remained quiet, except that they were once or twice startled by the loud beating of a drum, and the deep blasts from the fetish horn. At the end of that time there was a general exclamation of relief as Dominique stepped in from among the trees. "Well, Dominique, what have you found?" Frank exclaimed as he started to his feet. "Me found eberyting, sar. First come to village. Not bery big, twenty or thirty men dere. Den a hundred yards furder tree huts stand. Dey new huts, but not built last night, leaves all dead, built eight or ten days ago. Me crawl on tomack among de trees, and lay and watch. In de furder hut two white lady. Dey come in and out, dey talk togeder, de oders not go near them. Next hut to them, twenty, thirty yards away, two white men. Dey sit on log and smoke cigar. In de next hut four white sailor. Den a little distance away, twelve black fellows sit round fire and cook food. Plenty of goats down in valley, good gardens and lots of bananas." "How did the white ladies seem?" "Not seem anyting particular, sar. Dey neber look in de direction ob oders. Just talk togeder bery quiet. Me see dere lips move, but hear no voice. Hear de voice of men quite plain." "How close can we get without being seen?" "About fifty yards, sar. Huts put near stream under big trees. Trees not tick just dar; little way lower down banana trees run down to edge ob stream. If can get round de village on dat side widout being seen, can go through bananas, den dash across de stream and run for de ladies. Can get dere before de oders. Besides, if dey run dat way we shoot dem down." "Thank God, that is all satisfactory," Frank said. "But it is hard having to wait here another five hours before doing anything." "We are ready to go and pitch into them at once, sir," one of the sailors said. "You have only to say the word." "Thank you, lads, but we must wait till within an hour or two of sunset. I expect that we shall have to fight our way back, and we shall want darkness to help us. It would be folly to risk anything, just as success seems certain after these months of searching. Still, it is hard to have to wait. "It is getting on to twelve o'clock. You had better get that basket out and have your dinners." The next four hours seemed to him interminable. The sailors and negroes had gone to sleep as soon as they had finished their meal and smoked a pipe. Frank moved about restlessly, sometimes smoking in short, sharp puffs, sometimes letting his pipe go out every minute and relighting it mechanically, and constantly consulting his watch. At last he sat down on a fallen tree, and remained there without making the slightest motion, until George Lechmere said: "I think it is time now, Major." "Thank goodness for that, George. I made up my mind that I would not look at my watch again until it was time. "Now, lads, before we start listen to my final orders. If we are discovered as we go past the village, we shall turn off at once and make straight for the camp. Don't waste a shot on the blacks. They are not likely to have time to gather to oppose us, but cut down anyone that gets in your way. When we are through the village make straight to the farthest hut. Don't fire a shot till we have got between that and the next, and then go straight at Carthew and his gang. If I should fall, Lechmere will take the command. If he, too, should fall, you are to gather round the ladies and fight your way down to the landing place. Take Dominique's advice as to paths and so on. He and his men know a good deal better than you do--but remember, the great duty is to take the ladies on board safe. "The moment you get them there, tell the captain my orders are that you are to man the two boats, row straight at the brigantine, drive the crew overboard and sink her. Then you are to sail for England with Miss Greendale. The brigantine must be sunk, for if Carthew gets down there he will fill her with blacks and sail in pursuit; and as there is not much difference in speed between the two boats, she might overtake you if you carried away anything. You must get rid of her before you sail. "What have you got there, George?" "Two stretchers, Major. Dominique and I have been making them for the last two hours. We can leave them here, sir, by the side of the path, and pick them up as we come along back." A couple of minutes later the party started. They followed the path down until nearly at the bottom of the hill. Here the trees grew thinner, and Dominique, who was leading, turned to the right. They made their way noiselessly through the wood, Dominique taking them a much wider circuit round the village than he himself had made, and bringing them out from the trees at the lower end of the plantation of bananas. Hitherto they had been walking in single file, but Frank now passed along the order for them to close up. "Keep together as well as you can," he said, when they were assembled; "and mind how you pass between the trees. If you set these big trees waving, it might be noticed at once." Very cautiously they stole forward until they reached the edge by the stream. Frank looked through the trees. Four white sailors were lying on the ground, smoking, in front of their hut. Carthew and his companion were stretched in two hammocks hung from the tree under which their hut stood. Bertha and her maid had retired into their bower. "Now, lads," he said, as with his revolver in his right hand he prepared for the rush. "Don't cheer, but run silently forward. The moment they catch sight of us you can give a cheer. "Now!" and he sprang forward into the stream, which was but ankle deep. The splash, as the whole party followed him, at once attracted the attention of the sailors; who leaped to their feet with a shout, and ran into their hut, while at the same moment Carthew and his companion sprang from their hammocks, paused for a moment in surprise at the men rushing towards them, and then also ran into their hut, Carthew shouting to the blacks to take to their arms. "Go straight at them, George," Frank shouted, running himself directly towards the nearest hut, just as Bertha, startled at the noise, came to its entrance. She stood for an instant in astonishment, then with a scream of joy ran a step or two and fell forward into his arms. "Thank God, I have found you at last," he said. "Wait here a moment, darling. I will be back directly. Go into the hut until I come." But Bertha was too overpowered with surprise and delight to heed his words, and Frank handed her to her maid, who had run out behind her. "Take her in," he said, as he carried her to the entrance of the hut, "and stay there until I come again." Then he ran after his party. A wild hubbub had burst forth. Muskets and pistols were cracking. Carthew, as he ran out of the hut, discharged his pistol at the sailors, but in his surprise and excitement missed them; and before he had time to level another, George Lechmere bounded upon him, and with a shout of "This is for Martha Bennett," brought his cutlass down upon his head. He fell like a log, and at the same moment one of the sailors shot his companion. Then they dashed against the Belgian sailors, who had been joined by the blacks. "Give them a volley, lads!" George shouted. The four sailors fired, as a moment later did the boatmen, and then cutlass in hand rushed upon them. Just as they reached them Frank arrived. There was but a moment's resistance. Two of the sailors had fallen under the volley, a third was cut down, and the fourth, as well as the blacks, fled towards the village. Here the Obi drum was beating fiercely. "Load again, lads," Frank shouted. "Two of you come back with me." He ran with them back to the end hut, but Bertha had now recovered from her first shock. "Come, darling," he said, "there is not a moment to lose. We must get out of this as soon as we can. "Come along, Anna. "Thompson, do you look after her. I will see to Miss Greendale." Just as they reached the others, a volley was fired from the village by the blacks of Carthew's party, who were armed with muskets. Then they, with thirty other negroes, rushed out with loud shouts. "Don't fire until they are close," Frank shouted. "Now let them have it." The volley poured into them, at but ten paces distance, had a deadly effect. The blacks paused for a moment, and the rescuing party, led by George Lechmere and Dominique, rushed at them. The sailors' pistols cracked out, and then they charged, cutlass in hand. For a moment the blacks stood, but the fierce attack was too much for them, and they again fled to the village. "Stop, Dominique!" Frank shouted, for the big pilot, who had already cut down three of his opponents, was hotly pursuing them. "We must make for the path at once." Chapter 18. In a couple of minutes they had gained it. "Anyone hurt?" Frank asked. One of the boatmen had an arm broken by a bullet, and two of the sailors had received spear wounds at the hands of the villagers. They were not serious, however, and leaving George Lechmere to cover the rear, they started up the path; Dominique, as usual, leading the way, Frank following behind him with Bertha, who had hitherto not spoken a word. "Am I dreaming?" she asked now, in a tone of bewilderment. "Is it really you, Frank?" "You are not dreaming, dear, and it is certainly I--Frank Mallett. Now tell me how you got on." "As well as might be, Frank, but it was a terrible time. Please do not talk about it yet. But how is it that you are here? It seems a miracle. "Oh, how ill you are looking! And your arm is in a sling, too." "That is nothing," he said; "merely a broken collarbone. As to my looking ill, you must remember, I have had almost as anxious a time as you." "Then it was the Osprey, after all," she exclaimed, suddenly, "that we saw the last day that we were out sailing. We were on deck, and I was not noticing--I did not notice much then--when Anna said to me, 'That looks like an English yacht, miss. I am sure Mr. Carthew thinks she is chasing us.' "Then I got up and looked round. I could not see for certain, but it did look like a yacht, and I thought that it was about the size of the Osprey. Those two men were standing with their backs to us looking at it through their glasses, and Carthew happened to turn round and saw me standing up, and at once said: 'You must go below. I believe that is a pirate chasing us.' "I said that it was nothing to me if it was. One pirate was just as good as another. Then he said that if I would not go down he should be obliged to use force, and called four men aft. So as it was of no use resisting, we went down. Presently we felt that the course had been changed. Late in the evening we heard them fire the two guns, and then some musket shots. Later on the man came down and told us that the pirates had tried to attack us in their boats, and that they had beaten them off, and that there was no further danger. But for all that I could see that he was troubled." "That was when I was hit, dear. We had not reckoned on the two guns, and with only the gig and dinghy, with one man killed and five of us wounded, it was too stiff a business, though we should have persevered, but that squall came down on us from the hills, and the Phantom, moreover, left us standing still. We believed that we should come up with the schooner in the morning." "But how did you come here, Frank? How did you know where we had been taken?" "It is a long story, dear. We started in pursuit four days after you had been carried off. I will tell you all about it when we get safe again on board the yacht. I am afraid we shall have some trouble yet. Now if you are quite recovered from your surprise, do you feel equal to hurrying on? Every moment is of importance." "Oh, yes," she said. "He will be after us." "He won't," Frank said. "George Lechmere cut him down. Whether he killed him or not I cannot say, but I don't fancy anyhow that he will be able to take up the chase. It is that rascally Obi man I am afraid of. He has great power over the people, and may raise the whole country to attack us." "I am ready to run as fast as you like, Frank." "We may as well go at a trot for a bit." Then raising his voice, he said: "We will go at double, lads, now. "Put your arm on my shoulder, Bertha, and we can fancy that we are going to waltz." "I feel so happy that I want to cry, Frank," she said as they started. "Don't do that until you get on board the Osprey." As they passed the spot where they had halted, George Lechmere told two of the blacks to pick up the stretchers and carry them along. They were merely two light poles, with a wattle work formed of giant creepers worked for some six feet in length between them. "What are those for?" Bertha asked, as she passed them. "Those are to carry you and Anna along when you get exhausted. It is twenty miles to the coast, you know." "I feel as if I could walk any distance to get on board the Osprey again." "I have no doubt that you have the spirit, Bertha, but I question whether you have the strength; especially after being over three months without any exercise at all. I felt it myself yesterday, although we did little more than ten miles." "Oh, but then you have been wounded. And you do look so ill, Frank." "I dare say the wound had a little to do with it," he said; "but of course the climate is trying too; though it is cooler up on the hills than it is in that bay." "Now, Frank, the first question of all is--How is my mother? What did she do when I was missing? It must have been awful for her." "Of course, it was a terrible anxiety, Bertha, but she bore it better than would be expected, especially as she had not been well before." "It troubled me more, Frank, than even my own affairs. As soon as I had time to think at all, I could not imagine what she would do, and the only comfort was that she had you to look after her." "No doubt it was a comfort, dear, that she had someone to lean upon a little. "Halt!" he broke off suddenly, as there was the sound of a stick breaking among the trees close by. "Stand to your arms, men, and gather closely. "Bertha, do you and Anna take your place in the centre, and please lie down." "I cannot do that, Frank," she said, positively. "Here you are all risking your lives for us, and now you want me to put myself quite safe while you are all in danger." "I want to be able to fight, Bertha, free of anxiety, and to be able to devote my whole attention to the work. This I can't do if I know that you are exposed to bullets." "Well, I can't lie down anyhow, Frank; but Anna and I will crouch down if you say that we must when they begin to fire." They were silent for two or three minutes, and no sounds were heard in the wood. "We shall be attacked sooner or later," Frank said quietly to the men. "We will take to the trees on our right if we are attacked from the left, and to those on the left if they come at us from the right. If we are attacked on both sides at once, take to the right. "George, do you and Harrison and Jones get behind trees, next to the path. It will be your business to prevent anyone from passing on that side. I, with the other two, will take post behind trees facing the other way. The four boatmen with Dominique will shelter themselves in the bushes between us, with Miss Greendale and her maid in the middle. They will be the reserve, and if a rush is made from either side, they will at once advance and beat it back. "You understand, Dominique?" "Me understand, sar. If those fellows come we charge at them. These fellows no used to shoot, sar. Better give muskets to others. We do best with our swords." "That is the best plan. "You take one of the muskets, George, and give one to Harrison. The two men on my side had better have the others, as I can't use one. "You understand, lads. These will be spare arms. Keep them in reserve if possible, so as to check the fellows when they make a rush. Now do you all understand? "You explain it to your men, Dominique. "Now we will go on again, and at the double. It will be as much as those fellows can do to keep up with us in this thick wood." Ten minutes passed. Then there was a loud shout and the blowing of a deep horn on their left, followed by a yell from the wood on both sides. "To the right," Frank shouted, and the party ran in among the trees. "Get in among that undergrowth with Anna," he said to Bertha. "Gather there, Dominique, with your men. We shall want you directly. They are sure to make a rush at first. "Now, lads, one of you take that tree; the other the one to the right," and he placed himself behind one between them. On glancing round he saw that George had already posted his two men, and had taken up his station between them. "All hands kneel down," he said. "These bushes will hide us from their sight. If we stand up we may be hit by shots from behind." A moment later there was a general discharge of firearms round them, and then some forty negroes rushed at them. "On your feet now, men," Frank shouted. "Take steady aim and bring down a man with each shot." A cheer broke from the sailors. Four shots were fired from Frank's side, and five from George Lechmere's, and with them came the cracks of Frank's revolver, followed almost directly afterwards by those of the pistols carried by the men, and George Lechmere's revolver. Scarce a shot missed. Ten of the negroes fell, and those attacking from the right turned and bolted among the trees. The negroes on the left, however, inspired by the roaring of the horns and the shrieking yells of the Obi man, came on with greater determination and dashed across the path. "Now, Dominique, at them!" Frank shouted, as with the two sailors he rushed across. The numbers now were not very uneven. Of the twenty negroes on that side, five had fallen under the musketry and pistol fire, and two others were wounded; and as Frank's party and the blacks fell upon them they hesitated. The struggle was not doubtful for a moment. Six of the negroes were cut down, and the rest fled. "Don't pursue them, men," Frank shouted; and the sailors at once drew off, but Dominique and his black boatmen still pursued hotly, overtaking and cutting down three more of their assailants. "All is over for the present," Frank said, going to the spot where Bertha and Anna were crouching. "Not one of us is hurt as far as I know, and we have accounted for sixteen or seventeen of these rascals." Bertha got up. She was a little pale, but perfectly calm and quiet. "It is horrid, being hidden like that when you are all fighting, Frank," she said, reproachfully. "We were hidden, too, till they came at us," he said; "and very lucky it was, for some of us would probably have been hit, bad shots though they are." "No, Frank, not before all these men," she remonstrated. "What do I care for the men?" he laughed. "Do you think if they had their sweethearts with them they would mind who was looking on? "There, I must be content with that for the present. We must push on again." Dominique had returned now with his men, and the party started again at a trot, as soon as the firearms had all been reloaded. "We shan't have any more trouble, shall we?" Bertha asked. "Not for the present," he said. "We have fairly routed the blacks who came here with you, and the villagers, and they certainly won't attack us again until they are largely reinforced; which they cannot be until we get down towards the sea, for there are no villages of any size in the hills." After keeping up the pace for a mile, Frank ordered the men to drop into a walk again. "Now, Frank, about my mother?" Bertha asked again as soon as she had got her breath; and Frank related all that had taken place up to the time that the Osprey sailed. "Then she is all alone in town? It must be terrible for her, waiting there without any news of me. It is a pity that she did not go home. It would not have mattered about me, and it would have been so much better for her among her old friends. They would all have sympathised with her so much." "I quite agreed with her, Bertha, and think still that it was better that she should stay in London. I am sure the sympathy would do her harm rather than good. As it is, now she will be kept up by the belief that she is doing all in her power for you, by saving you from the hideous amount of talk and chatter there would be if this affair were known." "Of course, it would be horrid, Frank, and perhaps you are right, but it must be an awful trial." "I have done all I could to set her mind at rest," Frank said. "I wrote to her directly I arrived at Gibraltar, and again as soon as I got the letter from Madeira saying that the brigantine had touched there. I wrote from Madeira again with what news I could pick up, and again from Porto Rico, from the Virgin Islands, and from San Domingo. Of course, from there I was able to say that the scent was getting hot, and that I had no doubt I should not be long before I fell in with the brigantine. Then I sent another letter from Jaquemel. That seems to me a long time ago, for we have done so much since; but it is not more than ten days back. We will post another letter the first time that we touch anywhere, on the off chance of its going home by a mail steamer, and getting there before us." "It was wonderful your finding out that I had been carried off in the Phantom. That was what troubled me most, except about mother. I did not see how you could guess that the brigantine we had both noticed the day before was the Phantom. I felt sure that you would suspect who it was, but I could not see how you would connect the two together." "You see, I did not guess it at first," he replied. "I felt sure that it was Carthew from the first minute when I found that you had not landed, and it was just the luck of finding out that the Phantom's crew had returned, and that they had been paid off at Ostend, that put me on the track. Of course, directly I heard that she had been altered and turned into a brigantine, I felt sure that she was the craft that we had noticed; and as soon as I learned through Lloyd's that she had sailed south from the Lizard, I felt certain that she must have gone up the Mediterranean, or to the West Indies. I felt sure it was the latter. However, it was a great relief when I got a letter from Lloyd's agent at Madeira, telling me that the brigantine had touched there, and I felt certain that I should hear of you either here or at one of the South American ports." They kept on until they reached the hut at the point where the path forked. It was found to be empty. "Open the basket," Frank said. "We must have a meal before we go further. We have come about half the distance. "Now, Bertha, there is the bay, you see, and it is all downhill, which is a comfort. Do you feel tired, dear?" "Not tired," she said, "but my feet are aching a bit. You see, I had thin deck shoes on when we were hurried ashore, and they are not good for walking long distances in." "Well, we will have a quarter of an hour's rest," he said. "It is getting dark fast, and by the time we go on it will be night, and will be a great deal cooler than it has been." "I can go on at once if you like," she said. "No, dear; there is no use in hurrying. We may as well stop half an hour as a quarter. Don't you hear that?" The girl listened. "It is a horn, is it not?" she asked, after a pause. "Yes, I can hear it in half a dozen directions," he said. "That scoundrel of an Obi man is down there ahead of us, and that unearthly row he and his followers are making will rouse up all the villagers within hearing. We will try to give him the slip. I intend to take the path we came by for four or five miles, and then to strike off by one to the right, and hit the main road to Port au Prince, a good bit to the east of where we quitted it. The country is all cultivated there, and we will strike down towards the bay and make our way through the fields, and if we have luck we may be able to get down to the place where the gig will be waiting for us without meeting any of them." "Oh, I do hope there will be no more fighting, Frank! You may not all get off as well as you did last time." "We must take our chance of that, dear. At any rate the country will be open, and we shall be able to keep in a solid body, and I have no doubt that we shall be able to beat them off." "Could we not go down to the shore, and get a boat somewhere, and row to the yacht?" "Yes, we might manage that, perhaps. That is a capital idea, Bertha. There is a place called Nipes, twelve or fourteen miles east of our inlet. It won't be very much further to go, for we have been bearing eastward all the way here. Making sure that we shall go straight for the yacht, they will gather in that direction first, and won't think of giving the alarm so far east. There was a path, if I remember right, that came up from that direction a quarter of a mile further on. We will turn off by it." As soon as the meal was over they started again. They found the path Frank had spoken of, and followed it down until they came among trees. Then Dominique lighted his lantern again. For a time the two women kept on travelling, but after five miles Bertha was compelled to stop and take off her shoes altogether. For two miles further she refused the offers to carry her, but at last was forced to own that she could go no further. The two litters were at once brought up, and the four sailors, Dominique and the three uninjured boatmen, lifted them and went along at a trot, George Lechmere leading the way with a lantern. The weight of the girls, divided between four strong men, was a mere trifle, and they now made much more rapid progress than they had before, and in three quarters of an hour arrived at Nipes. As they got to the little town, Bertha and Anna got out and walked, so as to attract as little attention as possible among the negroes in the streets. Dominique answered all questions, stating that they were a party belonging to a ship in Marsouin Bay, that they had been on a sporting expedition over the hills, and had lost their way, and now wanted a boat to take them back. As soon as they reached the strand half a dozen were offered to them. Dominique chose the one that looked the fastest. He told the boatman that the ladies were very tired, and they wanted to get back as soon as possible, and he must, therefore, engage ten men to row, as the wind was so slight as to be useless. As he did not haggle about terms, the bargain was speedily concluded, and in a few minutes they put off. The men, animated by the handsome rate of pay they were to receive, rowed hard, and in a little over two hours they entered the inlet at the end of which the Osprey was lying. As they neared the end the boatmen were surprised at seeing a large number of people with torches on the rising ground, and something like panic seized them when they heard the Obi horns sounding. They dropped their oars at once. "Tell them to row on, Dominique," Frank said, "and to keep close along the opposite side. Tell them that if they don't do so we will shoot them. No; tell them that we will chuck them overboard and row on ourselves." "There is the place where we landed," Frank said presently to Bertha (the men had resumed their rowing), "just under where you see that clump of torches." "Ah, there is our boat," he broke off suddenly, as it appeared in the line of the reflection of the torches on the water. It was half a mile away, lying a few hundred yards from shore. He took out the dog whistle that he used when coming down to the landing stage to summon the boat from the yacht, and blew it. There was a stir in the boat, and a moment later it was speeding towards them. "Row on, Dominique. She will pick us up in no time." And long before they reached the Osprey the gig was alongside. "Thank God that you are back, sir," they cried as they came abreast. "We have been in terrible anxiety about you. Have you succeeded, sir?" "Don't cheer. I want to get back to the yacht before they know that we are here. Yes, thank God, I have succeeded. Miss Greendale and her maid are on board." A low cheer, which even his order could not entirely suppress, came from the three men in the boat. The mate was himself rowing stroke. "We did not dare bring any more hands, sir," he said. "There has been such a hubbub on shore for the last hour and a half that we thought it likely that they and the Phantom's people might be going to attack us. We rowed to the landing at ten o'clock, as you ordered us, but in a short time a party of men came along close to the water, and as soon as they saw us they opened fire on us, and we had to row off sharp. We have been lying off here since. We did not see how you could get down through that lot, but we thought it better to wait. I did think there was just a hope that you might make your way down to the coast somewhere else and come on in a shore boat. "Well, here we are, sir." As he spoke they came alongside the Osprey. "Is it you, sir?" Hawkins asked eagerly. "Look here, lads," Frank replied, standing up, "above all things I don't want any cheering, or any noise whatever. I don't want them to know that we have got on board. I know that you will all rejoice with me, for I have brought off Miss Greendale, and none of our party except one of the boatmen has been wounded in any way seriously." There was a murmur of deep satisfaction from the crew. As Bertha stepped on deck the men crowded round with low exclamations of "God bless you, miss! This is a good day indeed for us!" Bertha, in reply to the greeting, shook hands all round. "I see you have not put out the lights in the cabin yet, Hawkins. I will just go down with Miss Greendale and see that she is comfortable, and then I will come up again." "Oh, Frank!" the girl exclaimed, bursting into tears as they entered the saloon, "this is happiness indeed. I feel at home already." Frank remained with her for three or four minutes. "Now, dear, take possession of your old cabin again. No doubt Anna is there already. She had better share it with you. "Now I must go up and finish with the Phantom at once. Do not be afraid, I shall take them by surprise, and there will be very little fighting." And without waiting for remonstrance he hurried on deck. "Are the men armed, Hawkins?" "That they are, sir. We have been expecting an attack every minute. There have been three or four shore boats going off to the brigantine within the last quarter of an hour." "I am going to be beforehand with them, Hawkins." "They've got both those guns pointing this way, sir." "I am not coming from this way to attack them, Hawkins. I am going to put all hands in that native craft I came in, row off a little distance from this side, then make a circuit, and come down on the other side of them. I will leave George Lechmere here with four men, with three muskets apiece, so that if they should start before we get there they can keep them off until we arrive. If I can get a few of the boatmen to enlist I will do so." He spoke to Dominique, who went to the side and asked: "If any of you are disposed to stop here to guard the craft for a quarter of an hour, in case she is attacked, the gentleman here will pay twenty dollars a man; but remember that you may have to fight." The whole crew rose. Twenty dollars was a fortune to them. "Come on board, then," Dominique said. "I don't know whether these fellows are to be trusted, George, but I hope you won't be attacked. Keep these fifteen muskets for yourselves. Put four apiece by the bulwarks and station yourselves by them. Keep your eyes on these boatmen, put the oars of the boat handy for them, and let them arm themselves with them. If you are attacked an oar is not a bad weapon for repelling boarders." "All right, Major. I will station two of them between each of us." By this time the captain had picked out the four men that were to remain, and had the rest drawn up in readiness to get into the boat. "Get in quietly, lads," Frank said. "Ten of you man the oars. We will put an end to the Phantom's wanderings tonight." "That we will, sir," was the hearty rejoinder of the men. Frank took the tiller, and they rowed straight away from the Osprey for a hundred yards, when Frank steered towards the right bank, where there were no torches, and where all was quiet. The brigantine could be seen plainly, standing up against the glare of the torches on the other side. They rowed three or four hundred yards beyond her, then taking a turn approached her on the side opposite to that facing the Osprey. Three native boats like their own were lying beside her, and there was a crowd of men on her deck. Frank brought her round alongside of these boats. He had already ordered that firearms were not to be used in the first place. "I don't want to kill any of these blacks," he said. "They have nothing to do with the affair, and they believe us to be pirates. I expect that we shall get on board unnoticed. Then with a cheer go at them with the flat of your cutlasses. You can use the edge on the whites if they resist. But I expect that the blacks will all jump overboard in a panic, and that then the whites, seeing that they are outnumbered, will surrender." No one, indeed, noticed them. There was a great hubbub and confusion, and the captain was endeavouring to get them into something like order; when suddenly there was a loud cheer, and Frank's party fell upon them. Yells of terror rose as the sailors, Dominique, and his blacks sprang among them, striking heavily with the flat of their cutlasses, and the sailors using their fists freely. Frank had brought with him a heavy belaying pin, and used it with great effect. The blacks in the panic fell over each other, and rushing to the side jumped overboard, some into their boats, and some into the water. The white sailors, carried away by the stampede, and separated from each other, were unable to act. The captain, drawing a brace of pistols from his belt, fired one shot, but before he could fire another Frank hurled the iron belaying pin at him. It struck him in the face, and he fell insensible. The Belgian sailors, seeing themselves altogether outnumbered, and without a leader, threw down their arms. "Tie their hands and feet," Frank ordered, "and bundle them into one of the native boats." Two of these had pushed off and lay fifty yards away, and the sea was dotted with the heads of swimmers making towards them. The Belgian sailors were placed in the other boat. "Put their captain in, too," Frank said. "He will come round presently. "Now four of you jump into our boat and cast her off. "Captain, will you look about for the oil, and pour it over all the beds, but don't set them on fire until I give the order. "Now, lads, two of you run below, and get the cushions off the starboard sofa. "Purvis, get the skylight open on the port side, and wheel the two guns round, and point them down into the cabin. I will train them myself on the same spot just at the back of that seat. They might come off and extinguish the fire, though I don't think they will; but we will make sure by blowing a hole through her side under the water line." Five minutes were sufficient to make the preparations, and the captain came up and reported that all was ready. "I have heaped up all the bedding on the floor, sir, and poured plenty of oil over it," he said. "Very well, then, take two men aft, and begin there and work your way forward, and finish with the fo'c'sle hammocks. You can begin at once." In a minute there was a glare of light through the stern cabin skylight, while almost at the same moment a dense cloud of smoke poured up the companion. Then the light shone up through the bull's-eyes on deck of the other staterooms. Then the captain and the two hands ran through the saloon forward. Frank went to the fo'castle hatch, and stooping down saw the captain apply the fire to a great heap of bedding. "That will do, Hawkins," he said. "Come up at once with the men, or you will be suffocated down there." They ran up on deck, and a minute later a volume of flame burst out through the hatch. Frank went to the guns, and lighting two matches gave one to Hawkins. "Now," he said, "both together." The two reports were blended in one, and as the smoke cleared away Frank could see, by the cabin lamp that was still burning, a spurt of water shooting up from a ragged hole at the back of the sofa. Fired at such a short distance, the bullets with which the guns were crammed had struck like solid shot. "Into the boats, men!" Frank shouted. "Shall we take these chaps off with us, sir?" the captain said. "They will be keepsakes." "All right, Hawkins, in with them." The tongue of fire leaping up from the forecastle, followed by the discharge of the guns, had been the first intimation to those on the Osprey of what had happened. Bertha and her maid ran up on deck at the sound of the cannon. "What is that?" the former asked, in alarm. "It is all right, Miss Greendale," George Lechmere said, leaving the side and coming up to her. "The Major has captured the brigantine almost without fighting. There was only one pistol shot fired. I did not hear a single clash of a sword, and the blacks on board jumped straight into the water. I was just coming to call you as you came up. The brigantine is well on fire, you see." "But I thought I heard the cannon." "Yes, the Major has fired them down the skylight, so as to make sure of her. Do you see, miss, they are putting the guns in the boat now. They will be back here in a few minutes." By the time the boat came alongside, the flames from the after skylight had lit the mainsail and were running up the rigging. A minute later they burst out from the companion and the skylight. "Thank God that is all over, Frank," Bertha said, as they stood together watching the sight. The inlet was now lit up from side to side. On shore a state of wild excitement prevailed. The boats had reached the shore, and the negroes there had rushed down to hear what had taken place, and to inquire after friends. Above the yells and shouts of the frenzied negroes sounded the deep roar of the horns, and the angry beating of the Obi drums. Numbers of torch bearers were among the crowd, and although nearly half a mile away, the scene could be perfectly made out from the yacht. The boatmen had received their promised pay as soon as Frank had reached the yacht, and had taken their places in their boat, but Dominique told Frank that they would not go till the Osprey sailed, as they were afraid of being pursued and attacked by the villagers' boats if they did so. Chapter 19. As Frank stood gazing at the scene, George Lechmere touched him. Frank, looking round, saw that he wished to speak to him privately. "What is it, George?" he asked, when he had stepped a few paces from Bertha. "Look there, Major," George said, handing him a field glass. "I thought I had settled old scores with him, but the devil has looked after his own." "You don't mean to say, George, that it is Carthew again." "It is he, sure enough, sir. I would have sworn that I had done for him. If I had thought there had been the slightest doubt about it, I would have put a pistol ball through his head." Frank raised the glass to his eyes. Just where the torches were thickest, he could make out a man's figure raised above the heads of the rest. He was supported on a litter. His head was swathed with bandages. He had raised himself into a sitting position, supported by one arm, while he waved the other passionately. He was evidently haranguing the crowd. As Frank looked, he saw the figure sink down. Then there was a deep roll of the drum, and a fantastic-looking figure, daubed as it seemed with paint and wearing a huge mask, appeared in his place. The drum and the horns were silent, and the shouting of the negroes was at once hushed. This man, too, harangued the crowd, and when he ceased there was a loud yell and a general movement among the throng. At that moment, Hawkins came up. "The chain is up and down, sir. Shall I make sail? The wind is very light, but I think that it is enough to take her out." "Yes, make sail, Hawkins, as quickly as you can. I am afraid that those fellows are coming out to attack us, and I don't want to kill any of the poor devils. There is a small boat coming out from the shore towards that craft. The white sailors are on board, and we shall have them on us, too." "Up with the anchor," Hawkins shouted. "Make sail at once. Look sharp, my hearties, work with a will, or we shall have those niggers on us again." Never was sail made on the Osprey more quickly, and by the time that the anchor was apeak all the lower sails were set. "Shall I tell the blacks to tow their boat behind us?" Hawkins asked Frank, as the yacht began to steal through the water. "No; let them tow alongside, Hawkins. I don't suppose the people ashore know that we have a native boat with us. If they did, they would be sure that it came from Nipes, and it might set up a feud and cost them their lives, especially as that Obi scoundrel is concerned in the affair." Then he moved away to George Lechmere. "Don't say a word about that fellow Carthew," he said. "Miss Greendale thinks he is killed; and it is just as well that she should continue to think that she is safe from him in the future." "So far as she is concerned, I think that is true; but I would not answer for you, Major. You have ruined his plans, and burned his yacht, and as long as he lives he will never forgive you." "Well, it is of no use to worry about it now, George; but I expect that we shall hear more about him someday." "What are they doing, Frank?" Bertha asked, as he rejoined her. "I think that they are getting into the boats again." "Yes. I fancy they are going to try to take us, but they have no more chance of doing so than they have of flying. The Obi man has worked them up to a state of frenzy, but it will evaporate pretty quickly when they get within range of our muskets." "But we have got the cannon on board, have we not?" "Yes; but we did not bring off any ammunition with us. It was the men's idea to bring them as a trophy. However, I have plenty of powder and can load them with bullets; but I certainly won't use them if it can be possibly avoided. I have no grudge against the poor fellows who have been told that we are desperate pirates, and who are only doing what they believe to be a meritorious action in trying to capture us." In a few minutes six boats put out from the shore. The Osprey was not going through the water more than two miles an hour, though she had every stitch of canvas spread. Frank had the guns taken aft and loaded. As the boats came within the circle of the light of the burning yacht, it could be seen that they were crowded with men, who encouraged themselves with defiant yells and shouts, which excited the derision of the Osprey's crew. When they got within a quarter of a mile they opened a fusillade of musketry, but the balls dropped in the water some distance astern of the yacht. As the boats came nearer, however, they began to drop round her. "Sit down behind the bulwarks," Frank said. "They are not good shots, but a stray ball might come on board, and there is no use running risks." By this time he had persuaded Bertha to go below. The boats rowed on until some seventy or eighty yards off the Osprey. The shouting had gradually died away, for the silence on board the yacht oppressed them. There was something unnatural about it, and their superstitious fear of the Obi man disappeared before their dread of the unknown. As if affected simultaneously by the disquietude of their companions, the rowers all stopped work at the same moment. Dominique had already received instructions, and at once hailed them in French. "If you value your lives, turn back. We have the guns of the brigantine. They are crammed with bullets and are pointed at you. The owner has but to give the word, and you will all be blown to pieces. He is a good man, and wishes you no harm. We have come here not to quarrel with you poor ignorant black fellows, but to rescue two ladies the villain that ship belongs to had carried off. Therefore, go away back to your wives and families while you are able to, for if you come but one foot nearer not one of you will live to return." The news, that the Osprey had the cannon from the brigantine on board, came like a thunderbolt upon the negroes. The prospect of a fight with the men who had so easily captured the brigantine was unpleasant enough, but that they were also to encounter cannon was altogether too much for them, and a general shout of "Don't fire; we go back!" rose from the boats. For a minute or two they lay motionless, afraid even to dip an oar in the water lest it should bring down a storm upon them, but as the Osprey glided slowly away the rearmost boat began to turn round, the others followed her example, and they were soon rowing back even more rapidly than they had come. "You can cast off that boat, Hawkins, as soon as we are out into the bay," Frank said, and then went down below. "Our troubles are all over at last, dear, and we can have a quiet talk," he said. "As I expected, the negroes lost heart as soon as they came near, and the threat of a round of grape from the guns finally settled them. They are off for home, and we shall hear no more of them. Now you had best be off to bed at once. You have had a terrible day of it, and it is just two o'clock. "Ah! that is right," he broke off, as the steward entered carrying a tray with tea things. "I had forgotten all about that necessity. You had better call Anna in; she must want a cup too, poor girl." "Yes, I should like a cup of tea," Bertha said, as she sat down to the tray, "but I really don't feel so tired as you would think." "You will feel it all the more afterwards, I am afraid," Frank replied. "The excitement has kept you up." "Yes, we felt dreadfully tired, didn't we, Anna, before we gave up? But the two hours' row in the boat, and all this excitement here, have made me almost forget it. It seems to me now quite impossible that it can be only about nine hours since you rushed out so suddenly with your men. It seems to me quite far off; further than many things do that happened a week ago. And please to remember that your advice to go to bed is quite as seasonable in your case as in mine." When he had seen them leave the saloon, Frank went on deck for a last look round. "I don't think that there is a chance of anything happening before morning, Hawkins, but you will, of course, keep a sharp lookout and let me know." "I will look out, sir. I have sent the four hands who were with you down to their berths, as soon as the niggers turned back. Lechmere has turned in, too." "Is the wind freshening at all?" "Not yet, sir. I don't suppose that we shall get more than we have now till day begins to break. Still, we are crawling on and shall be out in the bay in another quarter of an hour." When Frank got up at sunrise he found that the yacht was just rounding the point of the bay. He looked behind. No boat was in view. "Nothing moving, I see," he said as the first mate, who was in charge, came up. "We have not seen a thing on the water, sir." "I hardly expected that there would be. It is probable that, as soon as the boats got back, Carthew sent his skipper or mate off with a couple of the men to Port au Prince, to lay a complaint for piracy against me. But, even if they got horses, it would take them a couple of days to get there; that is, if they are not much better riders than the majority of sailors are. Then it is likely that there would be some time lost in formalities, and even if there was a Government steamer lying in the port, it would take her a long time to get up steam. Moreover, I am by no means sure that even Carthew would venture on such an impudent thing as that. It is certain that we should get into a bad scrape for boarding and burning a vessel in Haytian waters, but that is all the harm he could do us. The British Consul would certainly be more likely to believe the story of the owner of a Royal Squadron yacht, backed by that of her captain, mates and crew, and by Miss Greendale and her maid; than the tale of the owner of a vessel that could give no satisfactory explanation for being here. Besides, he will know that before a steamer could start in chase we should be certainly two, or perhaps three, days away, and whether we should make for Jamaica or Bermuda, or round the northwestern point of the bay, and then for England, he could have no clue whatever." "How shall I lay her course, sir? The wind has freshened already, and we are slipping through the water at a good four knots now." "We will keep along this side, as far as the Point at any rate. If Carthew has sent for a steamer, he is likely to have ordered a man down to this headland to see which course we are taking. When we have got so far that we cannot be made out from there, we will sail north for Cape la Mole. I think it would be safe enough to lay our course at once, but I do not wish to run the slightest risk that can be avoided." The wind continued to freshen, and to Frank's satisfaction they were, when Bertha came on deck at eight o'clock, running along the coast at seven knots an hour. "Have you slept well?" he asked, as he took her hand. "Yes. I thought when I lay down that it would be impossible for me to sleep at all--it had been such a wonderful day, it was all so strange, so sudden, and so happy--and just as I was thinking so, I suppose I dropped off and slept till Anna woke me three quarters of an hour ago, and told me what time it was. "Frank, I did not say anything yesterday, not even a single word of thanks, for all that you have done for me; but you know very well that it was not because I did not feel it, but because if I had said anything at all I should have broken down, and that was the very thing that I knew I ought not to do. But you know, don't you, that I shall have all my life to prove how thankful I am." "I know, dear, and between us surely nothing need be said. I am as thankful that I have been the means of saving you, as you can be that I was almost miraculously enabled to follow your track so successfully." "Breakfast is ready, sir," the steward announced from the companion. "Coming, steward. "I have told them, Bertha, to lay for three. I thought that it would be pleasanter for you to have Anna with you at meals, as I suppose she has taken them with you since you were carried off." "Thank you," she said, gratefully. "It won't be quite so nice for you, I know, but perhaps it will be better." "Well, Anna, you are looking very well," Frank said as he sat down. "You must officiate with the coffee, Bertha. I will see after the eatables." "Yes, Anna does look well," Bertha said. "She has borne up capitally, ever since the first two days. We have had all our meals together in our cabin." "Miss Greendale has been a great deal braver than I have, sir," Anna said, quietly. "She has been wonderfully brave, and though she is very good to say that I have borne up well, I know very well that I have not been as brave as I ought; and I could not help breaking down and crying sometimes, for I did think that we should never get home again." "Except carrying you away, Carthew did not behave altogether so badly, Bertha?" "No. The first day that we got on board he told me that I was to stay there until I consented to marry him. I told him that in that case I should become a permanent resident on board, but that sooner or later I should be rescued. He only said then, that he hoped that I should change my mind in time. He admitted that his conduct had been inexcusable, but that his love for me had driven him to it, and that he had only won me as many a knight had won a bride before now. "At first I made sure that, when we put into a port, I should be able somehow to make my condition known; but I realised for the first time what it was going to be, when I saw us stand off the Lizard and lay her head for the south. Up to that time I had scarcely exchanged a word with him. I had said at once that unless I had my meals in my own cabin with Anna, I would eat nothing at all, and he said, quite courteously, I must confess, that I should in all respects do as I pleased, consistent with safety. "From that time he said 'Good morning,' gravely when I came up on deck with Anna, and made a remark about the weather. I made no reply, and did not speak until he came to me in the morning, and said quietly, 'That is the Lizard astern of us, Miss Greendale. We are bound for the West Indies, the finest cruising ground in the world, full of quiet little bays where we can anchor for weeks.' "'It is monstrous,' I said desperately, for I own that for the first time I was really frightened. 'Some day you will be punished for this.' "'I must risk that,' he said, quietly. 'Of course, at present you are angry. It is natural that you should be so, but in time you will forgive me, and will make allowance for the length to which my affection for you has driven me. It may be six months, it may be ten years, but however long it may be, I can promise you that, save for this initial offence, you will have no cause to complain of me. I am possessed of boundless patience, and can wait for an indefinite time. In the end I feel sure that your heart will soften towards me.' "That was his tone all along. He was perfectly respectful, perfectly polite. Sometimes for days not a word would be exchanged between us; sometimes he would come up and talk, or rather, try to talk, for it was seldom that he got any answer from me. As a rule I sat in my deck chair with Anna beside me, and he sat on the other side of the deck, or walked up and down, smoking or talking with that man who was with him. "So it went on till the afternoon when we saw you. As I told you, he made us go down at once. I could see that he was furiously angry and excited. The steward came to our cabin early in the morning, and said that Mr. Carthew requested that we would dress and come up at once. As I was anxious to know what was going on, I did so; and he said when we came on deck, 'I am very sorry, Miss Greendale, but I have to ask you to go on shore with us at once.' "I had no idea where we were, save that it was somewhere in the island of San Domingo; but I was ready enough to go ashore, thinking that I might see some white people that I could appeal to. "I did speak to some negroes as we landed, but he said, 'It is of no use your speaking to them, Miss Greendale, for none of them understands any language but his own.' "I saw that they did not understand me, at any rate. I was frightened when I saw that four of the sailors were going with us, and that a dozen of the blacks, armed with muskets, also formed round us. I said that I would not go afoot, but Carthew answered: "'It would pain me greatly were I obliged to take such a step; but if you will not go, there is no course open to me but to have you carried. I am sorry that it should be so, but for various reasons it is imperative that you should take up your abode on shore for the present.' "Seeing that it was useless to resist, I started with him. A short distance on, two blacks came up with the horses, which had evidently been sent for. We mounted, and were taken up among the hills to the place where you found us. Every mile that we went I grew more frightened, for it seemed to me that it was infinitely worse being in his power up in those hills, than on board his yacht, where something might happen by which I might be released from him. Those huts you saw had been built beforehand, so that he had evidently been preparing to take us there if there should be any reason for leaving the yacht. There was bedding and a couple of chairs and a table in ours. "In the morning, while still speaking politely, he made it evident to me that he considered he could take a stronger tone than before. "'I assure you, Miss Greendale,' he said, 'that this poor hut is but a temporary affair. I will shortly have a more comfortable one erected for you. You see, your residence here is likely to be a long one, unless you change your mind. Pray do not nourish any idea that you can someday escape me. It is out of the question; and certainly no white man is ever likely to come to this valley, nor is any negro, except those who live in this village. Its head is an Obi man, whose will is law to the negroes. Their belief in his power is unlimited, and I believe that they imagine that he could slay them with the look of his eye, or turn them into frogs or toads by his magic power. I pray you to think the matter over seriously. Why should you waste your life here You did not always regard me as so hateful; and the love that I bear you is unchangeable. Even could you, months or years hence, make your escape, which I regard as impossible, what would your position be if you returned to England? What story would you have to tell? It might be a true one, but would it be believed?' "'I have my maid, sir,' I said, passionately, 'who would confirm my report of what I have suffered.' "'No doubt she would,' he said quietly, 'but a maid's testimony as to her mistress's doings does not go for very much. I endeavoured to make the voyage, which I foresaw might be a long one, pleasant to you by requesting you to bring her with you, and I believe that ladies who elope not unfrequently take their maids with them. But we need not discuss that. This valley will be your home, Miss Greendale, until you consent to leave it as my wife. I do not say that I shall always share your solitude here. I shall cruise about, and may even for a time return to England, but that will in no way alter your position. I have been in communication with the Obi gentleman since I first put into the bay, and he has arranged to take charge of your safety while I am away. He is not a pleasant man to look at, and I have no doubt that he is an unmitigated scoundrel--but his powers are unlimited. If he ordered his followers to offer you and your maid as sacrifices to his fetish, they would carry out his orders, not only willingly, but joyfully. He is a gentleman who, like his class, has a keen eye to the main chance, and will, I doubt not, take every precaution to prevent a source of considerable income from escaping him.' "'You understand,' he went on, in a different manner, 'I do not wish to threaten you--very far from it. I have endeavoured from the time that you set foot on board to make you as comfortable as possible, and to abstain from thrusting myself upon you in the slightest degree, and I shall always pursue the same course. But please understand that nothing will shake my resolution. It will pain me deeply to have to keep you in a place like this, but keep you I must until you consent to be mine. You must see yourself the hopelessness, as well as the folly, of holding out. On the one side is a life wasted here, on the other you will be the wife of a man who loves you above all things; who has risked everything by the step that he has taken, and who, when you consent, will devote his life to your happiness. You will be restored to your friends and to your position, and nought will be known, except that we made a runaway match, as many have done before us. Do not answer now. At any rate I will remain here for a couple of months, and by the end of that time you may see that the alternative is not so terrible a one.' "Then, without another word, he turned and walked away; and nothing further passed between us until in the afternoon, when you so suddenly arrived." "Thank God, he behaved better than I should have given him credit for," Frank said, when she had finished. "He must have felt absolutely certain that there was no chance whatever of your rescue, and that in time you would be forced to accept him, or he would hardly have refrained from pushing his suit more urgently. His calculations were well made, and if we had not noticed that brigantine at Cowes, and I had not had the luck to come upon some of his crew and pick up his track, he might have been successful." "You don't think that I should ever have consented to marry him?" Bertha said, indignantly. "I am sure that such a thought never entered your head, Bertha; but you cannot tell what the effect of a hopeless captivity would have had upon you. The fellow had judged you well, and he saw that the attitude of respect he adopted would afford him a far better chance of winning you, than roughness or threats would do. But he might have resorted to them afterwards, and you were so wholly and absolutely in his power, that you would almost have been driven to accept the alternative and become his wife." She shook her head decidedly. "I would have killed him first," she said. "I suppose some girls would say, 'I would have killed myself;' but I should not have thought of that--at any rate not until I had failed to kill him. Every woman has the same right to defend herself that a man has, and I should have no more felt that I was to blame, if I had killed him, than you would do when you killed a man who had done you no individual harm, in battle." "We only want mamma here," she said a little later, as she took her seat in a deck chair, "to complete the illusion that we are sailing along somewhere on the Devonshire coast. The hills are higher and more wooded, but the general idea is the same. I suppose I ought to feel it very shocking, cruising about with you, without anyone but Anna with me; but somehow it does not feel so." "No wonder, dear. You see, we have been looking forward to doing exactly the same thing in the spring." "I think we had better not talk about that now," she said, flushing. "I intend to make believe, till we get to England, that mamma is down below, and that I may be called at any moment. How long shall we be before we are there?" "I cannot say, Bertha. I shall have a talk with Hawkins, presently, as to what course we had better take. It may be best to sail to Bermuda. If we find a mail steamer about to start from there, we might go home in it, and get there a fortnight earlier than we should do in the yacht, perhaps more. However, that we can talk over. I can see there may be difficulties, but undoubtedly the sooner you are home the better. You see, we are well in November now. "What day is it?" he reflected. "I have lost all count, Frank." He consulted a pocketbook. "Today is the twenty-first of November. I should think that if we get favourable winds, we might make Bermuda in a week--ten days at the outside; and if we could catch a steamer a day or two after getting there, you might be able to spend your Christmas at Greendale." "That would be very nice. The difficulty would be, that I might afterwards meet some of the people who were with us on the steamer." "It would not be likely," he said. "Still, we can talk it over. At any rate, from the Bermudas we can send a letter to your mother, and set her mind at rest." The captain and Purvis, consulting the book of sailing directions, came to the conclusion that the passage via the Bermudas would be distinctly the best and shortest. The wind was abeam and steady, and with all sail set the Osprey maintained a speed of nine knots an hour until Bermuda was in sight. They were still undecided as to whether they had better go home by the mail, but it was settled for them by their finding, on entering the port, that the steamer had touched there the day before and gone on the same evening, and that it was not probable that any other steamer would be sailing for England for another ten days. They stopped only long enough to lay in a store of fresh provisions and water, of which the supply was now beginning to run very short. Indeed, had not the wind been so steady, all hands would have been placed on half rations of water. Bertha did not land. She was nervously afraid of meeting anyone who might recognise her afterwards, and six hours after entering the port the Osprey was again under way. The wind, as is usual at Barbadoes, was blowing from the southwest; and it held with them the whole way home, so that after a remarkably quick run they dropped anchor off Southampton on the fifteenth of December. Frank had already made all arrangements with the captain to lay up the Osprey at once. "I shall want her out again in the first week in April, so that she will not be long in winter quarters." On landing, Frank despatched a telegram to Lady Greendale: "Returned all safe and well. Just starting for town. Shall be with you about six o'clock." The train was punctual, and five minutes before six Frank arrived with Bertha at Lady Greendale's. He had already told Bertha that he should not come in. "It is much better that you should be alone with her for a time. She will have innumerable questions to ask, and would, of course, prefer to have you to herself. I will come round tomorrow morning after breakfast." Anna had been instructed very carefully, by her mistress, not to say anything of what had happened, and in order that she might avoid questions, George Lechmere had seen her into a cab for Liverpool Street, as she wished to spend a week with some friends at Chelmsford. Then she was to join Bertha at Greendale. Frank went to his chambers, where George Lechmere had driven with the luggage. The next morning he went early to Lady Greendale's, so early that he found her and Bertha at breakfast. "My dear Frank," the former said, embracing him warmly, "how can I ever thank you for all that you have done for us! Bertha has been telling me all about how you rescued her. I hear that you were wounded, too." "The wound was of no great importance, and, as you see, I have thrown aside my sling this morning. Yes, we went through some exciting adventures, which will furnish us with a store of memories all our lives. "How have you been, Lady Greendale? I am glad to see that, at any rate, you are looking well." "I have had a terribly anxious time of it, as you may suppose; but your letters were always so bright and hopeful that they helped me wonderfully. The first fortnight was the worst. Your letter from Gibraltar was a great relief, and of course the next, saying that you had heard that the yacht really did touch at Madeira, showed that you were on the right track. When you wrote from Madeira, I sent to Wild's for the largest map of the West Indies that they had, and thus when I got your letters, I was able to follow your course and understand all about it. You are looking better than when I saw you last." "You should have seen him when I first met him, mamma. I hardly knew him, he looked so thin and worn; but during the last three weeks he has filled out again, and he seems to me to be looking quite himself." "And Bertha is looking well, too." "So I ought to do, mamma. I don't think I ever looked very bad, in spite of my troubles, and the splendid voyage we have had would have set anyone up." "It has been a wonderful comfort to me," Lady Greendale said, "that I have met hardly anyone that I know. The last three weeks or so I have met two or three people, but I only said that I was up in town for a short time. Of course, they asked after you, and I said that you were not with me, as you were spending a short time with some people whom you knew. We intend to go down home tomorrow." "The best thing that you can do, Lady Greendale. I shall be down for Christmas, and the first week in April, you know, I am to carry her off. So, you see, this excursion of ours has not altered any of our plans." Chapter 20. Christmas passed off quietly. As soon as it was known that Lady Greendale had returned, the neighbours called, and for the next few months there was the usual round of dinner parties. To all remarks as to the length of time that she had been away, Lady Greendale merely replied that Bertha had been staying among friends, and that as she herself had not been in very good health, she had preferred staying in town, where she could always find a physician close at hand if she needed one. It was not until they had been back for more than a month, that the engagement between Bertha and Major Mallett was announced by Lady Greendale to her friends, and it was generally supposed that it had but just taken place. The announcement gave great satisfaction, for the general opinion had been that Bertha would get engaged in London, and that Greendale would be virtually lost to the county. The marriage was to take place in April. "There is no reason for a long delay," Lady Greendale explained. "They have known each other ever since Bertha was a child. They intend to spend their honeymoon on board Major Mallett's yacht, the Osprey, and will go up the Mediterranean until the heat begins to get too oppressive, when they talk about sailing round the islands, or, at any rate, cruising for some time off the west of Scotland." About the same time, George Lechmere, in a rather mysterious manner, told Frank that he wished for a few minutes' conversation with him. "What is it, George? Anything wrong with the cellar?" "No, sir, it is not that. The fact is that Anna Parsons, Miss Greendale's maid, you know, and I, have settled to get married, too." "Capital, George, I am heartily glad of it," Frank said, shaking him warmly by the hand. "I never thought that I should get to care for anyone again, but you see we were thrown a good deal together on the voyage home, and I don't know how it came about, but we had pretty well arranged it before we got back, and now we have settled it altogether." "I am not surprised to hear it, George. I rather fancied, from what I saw on board, that something was likely to come of it. It is the best thing by far for you." "Well, sir, as I said, I never thought that I should care for anyone else, but I am sure that I shall make a better husband, now, than I should have done had I married five years ago." "That I am sure you will. You have had a rough lesson, and it has made a great impression, and I doubt whether your marriage would have been a happy one had you married then, after what you told me of your jealous temper. Now I am sure that neither Anna, nor anyone else, could wish for a better husband than you will make. Well now, what are you thinking of doing, for I suppose you have thought it over well?" "That is what we cannot quite settle, Major. I should like to stay with you all my life, just as I am." "I don't see that you could do that--at least, not in your present condition. There is no farm vacant, and if there were one I must give the late tenant's son the option of it. That has always been the rule on the estate. However, we need not settle on that at present. When are you going to get married? I should like it to be at the same time as we are. I am sure that Miss Greendale would be pleased. We both owe you a great deal, and, as you know, I regard you as my closest friend." "Thank you, Major, but I am sure that neither Anna nor I would care to be married before a church full of grand people, and we have agreed that we won't do it until after you come back from your trip. Miss Bertha has promised Anna that she shall go with her as her maid, and of course, Major, I shall want to go with you." "Well, you might get married the week before, and still go with us." George shook his head. "I think that it would be better the other way, Major. We will go with you as we are, and get married after you come back." The next day Frank had a long talk with Mr. Norton. "Well, sir, your plan would suit me very well. Nothing could be better," said the old steward. "In fact, I was going to tell you that I was beginning to find that the outdoor work was getting too much for me, and that though I should be very sorry to give it up altogether, I must either arrange with you to have help, or else find a successor. I am sure that the arrangement you propose would suit me exactly. "George Lechmere would be just the man for the work. We used to think him the best judge of livestock in the county, and he is a good all-round farmer. If he were to take the work of the home farm off my hands, I could keep on very well with the rest of the estate for another two or three years, and as he would act as my assistant he would, by the end of that time, be quite capable of taking it over altogether. I should then move into Chippenham. We have two married daughters living, and now that we have no one at home, my wife has been saying for some time that she would rather settle there than go on living in the country, and there is really no more occasion for me to go on working. So, as soon as Lechmere has got the whole thing in hand, I shall be quite ready to hand it over to him." "Well, I am very glad that it is so, Norton. Of course, I should never have made any change until you yourself were perfectly willing to give it up, but as you are willing, I am certainly glad to be able to put him into it. As you know, he saved my life, and has done me many other great services, and I regard him as a friend and want to keep him near me. Of course, he will go into the farmhouse, and after you retire he can either move into yours, or remain there, as he likes. Naturally, as long as you live, Norton, I shall continue the rate of pay you have always had. You were over thirty years with my father, and I should certainly make no difference in that respect." "Well, George, I have arranged your business," Frank said that evening. "Norton is getting on in life now, and he begins to find his work in winter a little too hard for him, so I have arranged that you are to take the management of the home farm altogether off his hands, and will, of course, establish yourself at the house. You will be a sort of assistant to him in other matters, and get up the work, and in the course of a couple of years, at the outside, he will retire altogether, and you will be steward. If you like you can work the home farm on your own account, but that will be for your consideration. How do you think that you will like that?" "I should like it above everything, Major, and I am grateful to you, indeed." "Well, I am glad that you like the arrangement, George. I had it in my mind when I was talking to you two days ago, but until I saw Norton, and found that he was willing to retire, I did not propose it." Towards the end of February, Lady Greendale and Bertha went up to town for a fortnight, intimating to Frank that they would be so busy with important business that his presence there would not be desired. He, however, travelled with them to London, and then went round to Southampton, where he had a consultation with the firm in whose yard the yacht was laid up, and the head of the great upholstering firm there, and arranged for material alterations in the plans of the cabins, and their redecoration. Everything was to be completed by the beginning of April. He had written to Hawkins to meet him on board. "You must have everything ready by the fifth," he said. "We shall arrive late in the afternoon, or perhaps in the evening of the fifth, and shall get under way next morning. I hope that you have been able to get the same crew." "There is no fear of their not all coming, sir, except Purvis. He has been bad all the winter, and I doubt whether he will be able to go with us." "I am sorry to hear that. Tell him that I shall make him an allowance of a pound a week for the season, and that I shall give him a little pension, of ten shillings a week, as long as he lives. I shall consider that all who went with me on that cruise to the West Indies have a claim upon me." The time for the wedding approached. There was some consultation, between Frank and Lady Greendale, as to whether the dinner to the tenants should be given on that occasion, or on their return; and it was settled that it would be more convenient to postpone it. "I am sure they would rather have you and Bertha here, and it would be much more convenient in every way. We have so much to think about now, and there will be so many arrangements to be made." "I quite agree with you. I will put it all in the hands of Rafters, of Chippenham. I think that it is only right to give it to local people. We shall want two big marquees, one for your tenants and mine and their wives and families, and the other for all the labourers and farm servants." "And there must be another for all the children," Bertha put in. "Very well, Bertha. "Then, of course, we must have a military band and fireworks, and we had better have a big platform put down for those who like to dance, and a lot of shows and things for the elders and children, and a conjurer with a big lucky basket, and things of that sort. Of course, at present one cannot give even an approximate date, but I will tell them that they shall have a fortnight's notice." "I wonder what has become of Carthew, Major?" George Lechmere said, as he was having a last talk with Frank on the eve of the wedding. "He will gnash his teeth when he sees it in the papers." "I have thought of him a good many times, George. He is an evil scoundrel, and nothing would please me more than to hear that he was dead. When I remember how many years he kept up his malice against me, for having beaten him in a fight; I know how intense must be his hatred of me, now that I have thwarted all his plans and burned his yacht. It is not that I am afraid of him personally, but there is no saying what form his vengeance will take, for that he will sooner or later try to be revenged I feel absolutely certain." "I have often thought of it myself, sir. Perhaps he is out in Hayti still." "No chance of that, George. Miss Greendale said that he told her that he had money sufficient to pay for a ten years' cruise. That may have been a lie, but he must have had money sufficient to last him for some time, anyhow, and you may be sure that he took it on shore with him. He may have died from the effects of that wound you gave him, but if he is alive I have no doubt that he is in England somewhere. Of course, he would not show himself where he was known, having been a heavy defaulter last year; but he may have let his beard grow, and so disguised himself that he would not be easily recognised. As to what he is doing, of course I have not the slightest idea; but we may be quite sure that he is not up to any good. "Well, George, then it is quite settled that you and Anna are to go off with the luggage directly the wedding is over. You will come ashore with the gig and meet us at eight o'clock at the station, with a carriage to take us down to the boat." "I will be there, Major, and see that everything is ready for you on board." When packing up his things in the morning, George Lechmere put aside a pistol and a dagger that he had taken from the sash of a mutineer, whom he had killed in India. "They are not the sort of things a man generally carries at a wedding," he said, grimly, "but until I know something of what that villain is doing, I mean to keep them handy for use. There is never any saying what he may be up to, and I know well enough that the Major, whatever he says, will never give the matter a thought." He loaded the pistol and dropped it into his coat pocket. Then he opened his waistcoat, cut a slit in the lining under his left arm, and pushed the dagger down it until it was stopped by the slender steel crosspiece at the handle. "I will make a neater job of it afterwards," he said to himself. "That will do for the present, and I can get at it in a moment." The wedding went off as such things generally do. The church was crowded, the girls of the village school lined the path from the gate to the church door, and strewed flowers as the bridal party arrived; and as they drove off to Greendale tenants of both estates, collected in the churchyard, cheered them heartily. There was a large gathering at breakfast, but at last the toasts were all drunk, and the awkward time of waiting over, and at three o'clock Major Mallett and his wife drove off amidst the cheers of the crowd assembled to see them start. "Thank God that is all over," Frank said heartily as they passed out through the lodge gates. At half-past eight Captain Hawkins was standing at the landing stage in a furious passion. "Where can that fellow Jackson have got to?" he said, stamping his foot. "I said that you were all to be back in a quarter of an hour when we landed, and it is three quarters of an hour now. I never knew him to do such a thing before, and I would not have had such a thing happen this evening for any money. What will the Major think when he finds only five men instead of six in the gig, on such an occasion as this? We shall be having them down in a minute or two. Jackson had better not show his face on board after this. It is the most provoking thing I ever knew." "It ain't his way, captain," one of the men said. "Jackson can go on the spree like the rest of us, but I never knew him to do such a thing all the years I have known him, when there was work to be done; and I am sure he would not do so this evening. He may have got knocked down or run over or something." "I will take an oar if you like, captain," said a man in a yachtsman's suit, who was loitering near. "I have nothing to do, and may as well row off as do anything else. You can put me on shore in the dinghy afterwards." "All right, my lad, take number two athwart. It is too dark to see faces, and the owner is not likely to notice that there is a strange hand on board. I will give you half a crown gladly for the job." The man got into the boat and took his seat. "Here they come," the captain went on. "We are only just in time. Up-end your oars, lads. We ain't strong enough to cheer, but we will give them a hearty 'God bless you!' as they come down." George Lechmere came on first, and handed in a bundle of wraps, parasols, and umbrellas. The captain stood at the top of the steps, and as Frank and Bertha came up took off his hat. "God bless you and your wife, sir," he said, and the men re-echoed the words in a deep chorus. "Thank you, captain. "Thank you all, lads, for my wife and myself," Frank said, heartily, and a minute later the boat pushed off. The tide was running out strong, and they were halfway across it towards the dark mass of yachts, when there was a sudden crash forward. "What is it?" Frank exclaimed. "This fellow has stove in the boat, sir," the bow oar exclaimed, and then came a series of hurried exclamations. Frank had not caught the words, but the rush of water aft told him that something serious had happened. "Row, men, row!" he shouted. "Steer to the nearest yacht, Hawkins." "We shall never get there, sir. She will be full in half a minute." "Let each man stick to his oar," Frank said, standing up. "We aft will hold on to the boat." Then he raised his voice in a shout: "Yachts, ahoy! Send boats; we are sinking! "Don't be frightened, darling," he said to Bertha. "Keep hold of the gunwale. I can keep you up easily enough until help comes, but it is better to stick to the boat. We must have run against something that has stove her in." A moment later the water was up to the thwarts, the boat gave a lurch, and then rolled over. Frank threw his arm round Bertha, and as the boat capsized clung to it with his disengaged hand. "Don't try to get hold of the keel," he said. "It would turn her over again. Just let your hands rest on her, and take hold of the edge of one of the planks. "That is it, Hawkins. Do you get the other side and just keep her floating as she is. We shall have help in a minute or two. "Are you all right, George?" "Yes, I am at her stern. Do you want assistance, sir?" "No, we are all right, George." A moment later a man came up beside the Major, and put his hand heavily on his shoulder. "You won last time, Mallett," he hissed in his ear. "It is my turn now." The man's weight was pressing him under water, and the boat gave a lurch. Frank loosed his hold of Bertha with the words, "Hold on, dear, for a minute," and, turning, grappled with his enemy, at the same moment grasping his right wrist as the arm was raised to strike him with a knife. In a moment both went below the water. They came up beyond the stern, and Frank said: "Take care of Bertha, George--Carthew--" and then went down again. Furiously they struggled. They were well matched in strength, but Frank felt that his antagonist was careless of his own life, for he had wound his legs round him, and, unable to wrench his arm from his grasp, was doing his utmost to prevent their coming to the surface. Suddenly, when he felt that he could no longer retain his breath, he felt arms thrown round them both, and a moment later came to the surface. Then he heard an exclamation of "Thank God!" An arm was raised, and two blows struck rapidly. Carthew's grasp relaxed, the knife dropped from his hand, and, as Frank shook himself free, he sank under the water. "Are you all right, Major?" his rescuer said. "Yes," he gasped. "Put your hand on my shoulder. The boat is not a length away." A minute later Frank was beside Bertha again. "Where have you been, Frank? I was frightened." "One of the men grasped me," he said, "and I should have turned the boat over if I had not let go. However, thanks to George Lechmere, who came to my rescue, I have shaken him off. "Ah! here is help." Three or four boats from the yachts were indeed rowing up. The four clinging to the gig were taken on board by one of them, while the others picked up the men who were floating supported by their oars. "Don't say a word about it, George," Frank whispered. The Osprey was lying but two or three hundred yards away, and they were soon alongside. "This is not the sort of welcome I thought to give you on board, dear," he said, as he helped Bertha on deck, and went down the companion with her. Anna burst into exclamations of dismay at seeing the dripping figures. "We have had an accident, Anna," Frank said, cheerfully, "but I don't think that we are any the worse for it. Please take your mistress aft and get her into dry things at once. "Steward, open one of those bottles of champagne, and give me half a tumbler full." He hurried after the others with it. "Please drink this at once, Bertha," he said. "Yes, you shall have some tea directly, but start with this. It will soon put you in a glow. Oh! yes, I am going to have one, too; but a ducking is no odds to me." Then he ran up on deck. "You have saved my life again, George, for that scoundrel would have drowned us both." "I saw the knife in his hand as you went down, and knew that you wanted me more than Miss--I mean Mrs. Mallett did." "How did you make him let go so quickly?" "I had a sort of fear that, sooner or later, that villain would be up to something; and had made up my mind that I would always have a weapon handy. This morning I stuck that dagger of mine inside the lining of my waistcoat, so that it might be handy. And it was handy. You were not five yards from me when you went down, and I dived for you, but could not find you at first, and had to come up once for air. Of course, I could not use the dagger until I found which was which, and then I put an end to it." "Then you killed him, George?" "I don't think that he will trouble you any more, sir; and if ever a chap deserved his fate that villain did. Why, sir, do you know how it all happened?" "No, I did not catch what the man at the bow said. There was such a confusion forward." "He said that he had staved the boat in somehow. He must have taken the place of one of the men on purpose to do it." "Well, George, I can't say that I'm sorry." "I am heartily glad, sir. I am no more sorry for killing him than for shooting one of those murderous niggers. Less sorry, a great deal. The man deserved hanging. He was intending to murder you, and perhaps Mrs. Mallett, and I killed him as I should have killed a mad dog that was attacking you." "Well, say nothing about it at present, George. It would be a great shock to my wife if she were to know it. Now you had better go and change your things at once, as I am going to do. Are all the men rescued?" "Yes, sir, they are all five on board." "Hawkins," Frank said, putting his hand in his pocket, "give the men who came to help us a couple of sovereigns each, and tell our men that I don't want them to talk about the affair. I will see you about it again." Frank was not long in getting into dry clothes, and a few minutes later Bertha came in. "Are you none the worse for it, dear?" "Not a bit, Frank. That champagne has thoroughly warmed me. What a sudden affair it all was. Is everyone safe?" "Yes, they stuck to the oars, and all our crew were picked up. It was a bad start, was it not? But it has never happened to me before, and I hope that it will never happen to me again." "Some people would be inclined to think this an unlucky beginning," said Bertha, with a slight tone of interrogation. "I am certainly not one of them," he laughed. "I had only one superstition, and that is at an end. You know what it was, dear, but the spell is broken. He had a long run of minor successes, but I have won the only prize worth having, for which we have been rivals." Some days later the body of a sailor was washed ashore near Selsey Bill. An inquest was held, and a verdict returned that the man had been murdered by some person or persons unknown; but although the police of Portsmouth, Southampton, Cowes, and Ryde made vigilant inquiries, they were unable to ascertain that any yacht sailor hailing from those ports had suddenly disappeared. There was much discussion, in the forecastle of the Osprey, as to the identity and motives of the man who had first got into conversation with Jackson, and then asked him to take a drink, which must have been hocussed, for Jackson remembered nothing afterwards. It was evident that the fellow had done it in order to take his place. He had staved in the boat, and, as they supposed, afterwards swam to shore; but the crime seemed so singularly motiveless that they finally put it down as the work of a madman. It was not until the day before the Osprey anchored again in Cowes, three months later, that Bertha, on expressing some apprehension of further trouble from Carthew, if he had survived the wound George Lechmere gave him, learned the true account of the sinking of the gig, as she went on board at Southampton on her wedding day. 
41971	----	[Transcriber's notes: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected, hyphenation has been standardised, all other inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling has been maintained. Missing pages numbers correspond to blank pages or moved illustrations. In the formulas, "Power of" are in brackets { } and roots have been rendered as: square root: [V¯]; cubic root: [3V¯]; fifth root: [5V¯].] [Illustration: THE JACK OF 1606 A.D. _St. Andrew of Scotland._ _St. George of England._ _St. Patrick of Ireland._ THE UNION JACK.] The Badminton Library of SPORTS AND PASTIMES EDITED BY HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEAUFORT, K.G. ASSISTED BY ALFRED E. T. WATSON _YACHTING_ I. YACHTING BY SIR EDWARD SULLIVAN, BART. LORD BRASSEY, K.C.B., C. E. SETH-SMITH, C.B., G. L. WATSON R. T. PRITCHETT SIR GEORGE LEACH, K.C.B., Vice-President Y.R.A. 'THALASSA' THE EARL OF PEMBROKE AND MONTGOMERY E. F. KNIGHT and REV. G. L. BLAKE [Illustration: Yachts.] IN TWO VOLUMES--VOL. I. _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY R. T. PRITCHETT AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS_ LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1894 _DEDICATION TO H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES_ BADMINTON: _May 1885_. Having received permission to dedicate these volumes, the BADMINTON LIBRARY of SPORTS and PASTIMES, to HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES, I do so feeling that I am dedicating them to one of the best and keenest sportsmen of our time. I can say, from personal observation, that there is no man who can extricate himself from a bustling and pushing crowd of horsemen, when a fox breaks covert, more dexterously and quickly than His Royal Highness; and that when hounds run hard over a big country, no man can take a line of his own and live with them better. Also, when the wind has been blowing hard, often have I seen His Royal Highness knocking over driven grouse and partridges and high-rocketing pheasants in first-rate workmanlike style. He is held to be a good yachtsman, and as Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron is looked up to by those who love that pleasant and exhilarating pastime. His encouragement of racing is well known, and his attendance at the University, Public School, and other important Matches testifies to his being, like most English gentlemen, fond of all manly sports. I consider it a great privilege to be allowed to dedicate these volumes to so eminent a sportsman as His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, and I do so with sincere feelings of respect and esteem and loyal devotion. BEAUFORT. [Illustration: BADMINTON.] PREFACE A few lines only are necessary to explain the object with which these volumes are put forth. There is no modern encyclopædia to which the inexperienced man, who seeks guidance in the practice of the various British Sports and Pastimes, can turn for information. Some books there are on Hunting, some on Racing, some on Lawn Tennis, some on Fishing, and so on; but one Library, or succession of volumes, which treats of the Sports and Pastimes indulged in by Englishmen--and women--is wanting. The Badminton Library is offered to supply the want. Of the imperfections which must be found in the execution of such a design we are conscious. Experts often differ. But this we may say, that those who are seeking for knowledge on any of the subjects dealt with will find the results of many years' experience written by men who are in every case adepts at the Sport or Pastime of which they write. It is to point the way to success to those who are ignorant of the sciences they aspire to master, and who have no friend to help or coach them, that these volumes are written. * * * * * To those who have worked hard to place simply and clearly before the reader that which he will find within, the best thanks of the Editor are due. That it has been no slight labour to supervise all that has been written, he must acknowledge; but it has been a labour of love, and very much lightened by the courtesy of the Publisher, by the unflinching, indefatigable assistance of the Sub-Editor, and by the intelligent and able arrangement of each subject by the various writers, who are so thoroughly masters of the subjects of which they treat. The reward we all hope to reap is that our work may prove useful to this and future generations. THE EDITOR. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME CHAPTER PAGE I. INTRODUCTION 1 _By Sir Edward Sullivan, Bart._ II. OCEAN CRUISING 18 _By Lord Brassey, K.C.B._ III. CORINTHIAN DEEP-SEA CRUISING 41 _By C. E. Seth-Smith, C.B. (late commanding London Brigade Royal Naval Volunteers_) IV. THE EVOLUTION OF THE MODERN RACING YACHT 50 _By G. L. Watson._ V. SLIDING KEELS AND CENTREBOARDS 102 _By R. T. Pritchett._ VI. RECOLLECTIONS OF SCHOONER RACING 108 _By Sir George Leach, K.C.B., Vice-President Y.R.A._ VII. THE RACING RULES AND THE RULES OF RATING 146 _By 'Thalassa.'_ VIII. YACHT'S SAILING BOATS 187 _By the Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery._ IX. SMALL YACHT RACING ON THE SOLENT 222 _By 'Thalassa.'_ X. FITTING OUT A FIFTY-TONNER TO GO FOREIGN. 295 _By E. F. Knight._ XI. BALTIC CRUISING 308 _By E. F. Knight._ XII. FIVE-TONNERS AND FIVE-RATERS IN THE NORTH 322 _By G. L. Blake._ XIII. YACHT INSURANCE 407 _By G. L. Blake._ INDEX 415 ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE FIRST VOLUME (_Reproduced by J. D. Cooper and Messrs. Walker & Boutall_) FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS ARTIST TO FACE PAGE UNION JACK _Frontispiece_ 'BRITANNIA,' H.R.H. Prince of Wales _From a photograph by Wm. U. Kirk, of Cowes_ 50 'VARUNA,' 40-RATER _From a photograph by Adamson, of Rothesay_ 54 'DORA,' 10-TONNER " 58 'ARROW'--LINES _G. L. Watson_ 72 'LETHE'--KEEL _From a photograph_ 78 SALOON OF 'THISTLE' " 82 'JULLANAR' _From a photograph by Adamson, of Rothesay_ 88 MIDSHIP SECTIONS _J. M. Soper, M.I.N.A._ 102 'EGERIA' _R. T. Pritchett_ 114 'EGERIA' AND 'OIMARA' " 134 'SEABELLE' " 138 RACING FLAGS, SCHOONERS, CUTTERS, YAWLS, &c 140 'SAVOURNA,' 5-RATER _From a photograph by Adamson, of Rothesay_ 244 'THE BABE,' 2-1/2-RATER _From a photograph by Symonds, of Portsmouth_ 246 'DACIA,' 5-RATER " 252 SOLENT OWNERS' RACING COLOURS 276 START OF SMALL RATERS ON THE CLYDE _From a photograph by Adamson, of Rothesay_ 354 'WENONAH,' 2-1/2-RATER " 360 'RED LANCER,' 5-RATER " 372 COMMERCIAL CODE OF SIGNALS 394 ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT BEFORE THE START (_Vignette_) _Title-page_ VICTORIA CUP, 1893 _R. T. Pritchett_ 1 'SUNBEAM' (R.Y.S), 1874 " 19 'SUNBEAM'--MIDSHIP SECTION _St. Clare Byrne, of Liverpool_ 24 'SUNBEAM'--LINES " 29 'CYGNET,' CUTTER, 1846--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _G. L. Watson_ 54 'PROBLEM,' 1852--PROFILE AND DECK PLAN _Hunt's Magazine_ 55 'VARUNA,' 1892--PROFILE _G. L. Watson_ 55 VANDERDECKEN'S TONNAGE CHEATER _Hunt's Magazine_ 56 DOG-LEGGED STERNPOST _G. L. Watson_ 57 'QUIRAING,' 1877--IMMERSED COUNTER " 58 'BRITANNIA,' 1893--CUTWATER " 60 'THISTLE,' 1887--CUTWATER " 60 DIAGRAM OF LENGTH AND DISPLACEMENT OF 5-TONNERS _G. L. Watson_ 62 PROFILES OF 5-TONNERS " 63 SECTIONS SHOWING DECREASE OF BREADTH AND INCREASE OF DEPTH IN 5-TONNERS UNDER 94 AND 1730 RULES " 63 DIAGRAM OF VARIATION UNDER DIFFERENT RULES " 64 DIAGRAM SHOWING VARIATION OF DIMENSIONS, &c., WITH YEARS; 40-RATERS; L. AND S.A. RULE. " 67 PROFILES OF 40-RATERS " 67 MIDSHIP SECTIONS OF 40-RATERS " 68 'LEOPARD,' 1807--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Linn Ratsey, of Cowes_ 72 'MOSQUITO,' 1848--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _T. Waterman_ 75 'LETHE'--MIDSHIP SECTION _G. L. Watson_ 79 'VALKYRIE'--PROFILE " 82 'VIGILANT'--PROFILE " 82 'BRITANNIA' CUTTER--GENERAL ARRANGEMENT PLAN " 84 S.S. 'MERKARA'--RESISTANCE CURVES " 87 'JULLANAR,' YAWL, 1875--MIDSHIP SECTION _E. H. Bentall, Esq._ 89 'JULLANAR,' YAWL--LINES " 91 'EVOLUTION,' 1880--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION " 92 'METEOR' (LATE 'THISTLE'), 1887--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _G. L. Watson_ 94 'FLORINDA,' YAWL, 1873--LINES _Camper & Nicholson, of Gosport_ 97 'KRIEMHILDA,' 1872--PROFILE _Michael Ratsey, of Cowes_ 98 'FLORINDA,' YAWL, 1873--PLANS _Camper & Nicholson, of Gosport_ 100 'FLORINDA,' YAWL, 1873--MIDSHIP SECTION " 101 H.M. BRIG 'LADY NELSON,' WITH THREE KEELS, 1797 _R. T. Pritchett_ 102 DIAGRAM OF BOAT WITH ONE CENTREBOARD, 1774 " 103 DIAGRAM OF BOAT WITH THREE SLIDING KEELS, 1789 " 103 DIAGRAMS SHOWING USE OF THREE KEELS IN 'LAYING TO,' 'ON A WIND,' AND SCUDDING " 104 'CUMBERLAND,' WITH FIVE SLIDING KEELS _From a model in possession of Taylor family_ 105 'CUMBERLAND,' SHOWING THE FIVE KEELS DOWN " 105 H.M. 'TRIAL' CUTTER, 1791--SHEER DRAUGHT _R. T. Pritchett_ 107 'KESTREL,' SCHOONER, 1839 " 108 'PANTOMIME,' SCHOONER, 1865--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Michael Ratsey, of Cowes_ 112 'CAMBRIA,' BEATING 'DAUNTLESS' IN 1870 (_From picture at R.T.Y.C._) _R. T. Pritchett_ 125 'DAUNTLESS,' SCHOONER (N.Y.Y.C.), 1871 " 129 'CETONIA,' SCHOONER, 1873--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Michael Ratsey, of Cowes_ 142 THE START _From a photograph by Debenham, of Cowes_ 148 CHART OF THE ROYAL SOUTHAMPTON YACHT CLUB (BRAMBLES AND LEPE COURSE) 161 DIAGRAM OF SAIL CURVES, 40-RATING CLASS _'Thalassa'_ 173 WHALES _R. T. Pritchett_ 189 THE SWOOP OF THE GANNET " 192 'BLACK PEARL'S' CUTTER--MIDSHIP SECTION " 200 MAIN SHEET ON IRON HORSE 202 'BLACK PEARL'S' CUTTER--SAIL PLAN _Richard Perry & Co._ 203 S.S. 'ALINE'S' CUTTER 205 S.S. 'ALINE'S' CUTTER--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Earl of Pembroke_ 207 'BLACK PEARL'S' CUTTER--LINES " 209 THE SQUALL IN LOCH SCAVAIG, SKYE _R. T. Pritchett_ 217 'EXCUSE ME' " 218 SELF-UNMOORED " 219 NEVER 'MOON' " 220 THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME " 221 'COCK-A-WHOOP,' 1889--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _A. E. Payne_ 234 'HUMMING BIRD,' 1889 _A. E. Payne, from a photograph by Symonds_ 236 'QUINQUE,' 5-RATER; LT.-COL. BUCKNILL, R.E. _From a photograph by Symonds, of Portsmouth_ 242 'THE BABE,' 1890--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _A. E. Payne_ 244 'MOSQUITO,' 1892, WITH ROLL FORESAIL _J. M. Soper_ 249 'DOREEN,' 1892 _From a photograph by Debenham, of Cowes_ 252 'CYANE,' 1892 _From a private Kodak_ 253 'WINDFALL,' 1891 From a photograph by Adamson, of Rothesay 254 'FAUGH-A-BALLAGH,' 1892--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _A. E. Payne_ 256 DIAGRAMS SHOWING IMPROVEMENTS IN FORE SECTIONS OF 2-1/2 RATERS _J. M. Soper_ 257 DIAGRAMS SHOWING IMPROVEMENTS IN AFT SECTIONS OF 2-1/2 RATERS " 258 DESIGN FOR 1-RATER BY J. M. SOPER, 1892 " 260 DESIGN FOR A CENTREBOARD 1-RATER BY J. M. SOPER, 1892 " 262 'WEE WINN,' 1892 _From a photograph by Debenham, of Cowes_ 265 'WEE WINN'--LINES _J. M. Soper_ 266 'DAISY,' 1892--LINES " 266 CHART OF THE ROYAL SOUTHAMPTON YACHT CLUB, 'BRAMBLES COURSE' 283 THE DROGUE OFF THE KULLEN HEAD _R. T. Pritchett_ 308 DANSKE FISHING-BOAT AND ANCHOR " 311 ROSKILDE FROM THE FIORD " 313 A DANSKE CRAFT " 315 A GOOD CRAFT FOR THE BALTIC " 317 TOWING HEAD TO WIND " 319 A DROGUE " 321 CHART OF THE DUBLIN, KINGSTOWN, AND MERSEY COURSE 327 'FREDA' _R. T. Pritchett_ 336 'CHALLENGE,' 1876 " 339 'MINERVA,' 1888--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Fife of Fairlie_ 368 'NATICA,' 1892 _From a photograph by Adamson, of Rothesay_ 374 IN THE CHANNEL _R. T. Pritchett_ 406 CHAPTER I [Illustration: Yachts.] INTRODUCTION BY SIR EDWARD SULLIVAN, BART. [Illustration: VICTORIA CUP. 1893.] It is related that Chrysippus, a cynic, killed himself in order that he might sooner enjoy the delights of Paradise. Philosophers do queer things sometimes. Many who are not philosophers kill themselves in order to avoid the miseries of this world; but, as far as I know, this is the only case on record of a man killing himself from impatience to enjoy the pleasures of the next. Ideas of Paradise are exceedingly various. To the ancients Paradise meant a _dolce far niente_ in the Elysian Fields; to the North American Indians it means happy hunting grounds and plenty of fat buffalo. The Scythians believed in a Paradise of immortal drunkenness and drinking blood out of the skulls of their enemies, and the Paradise that to-day influences the belief of one-fourth of the human race is contained in Chapter X. of the Koran. To Madame de Chevreuse it meant chatting with her friends in the next world. To one friend of mine it was galloping for ever over a grass country without gates. To another it meant driving four horses, with Tim Carter seated at his side. To some, I believe, Paradise means yachting, and for my own part, I think a 200-ton schooner, a ten-knot breeze, and a summer sea hard to beat. Whether yachting approaches one's conception of Paradise or not, I think there are very few of us who, if they do not suffer from that hopeless affection the _mal de mer_, do not more or less enjoy a life on the ocean wave; it is so fresh and life-giving and so various. 'A home on the stormy deep' we won't say so much about. I have seen two or three storms at sea, but I have never found them pleasant; very much the contrary. There is grandeur, if you like, but there is also terror and horror. As black as night she turned to white, And cast against the cloud A snowy sheet as if each surge Upturned a sailor's shroud. This is poetry; but it is true. You look to windward, and you look to leeward; you look ahead, and you look astern, and you feel that, if you are not already engulfed, you probably may be in the next minute. Dr. Johnson said the pleasure of going to sea was getting ashore again; certainly the pleasure of a storm is getting into smooth water again. The ideas of pleasure as connected with yachting vary as much as the ideas of Paradise; to one it means steaming at full speed from one port to another; but this becomes monotonous. A friend of mine used to write a letter at Cowes, address it to himself at Guernsey, and then steam, hard all, to Guernsey to get his letter. When he got it he would write to himself at Plymouth, then steam away, hard all again, to get that, and so on; even in steaming you must have an object of some kind, you know. To another dowagering up and down the Solent, lunching on board, and then hurrying back to dine and sleep ashore are pleasure; to another, sailing with the wind, or against the wind, or drifting when there is no wind, is the ideal of yachting. Certainly that is mine. I have tried both. I have had a steamer and I have had sailing vessels, and if I lived to the age of the Hyperboreans and owned several gold mines I should never keep a steamer for pleasure. In sailing, the interest never flags; the rigging, the sails, the anchors, the cables, the boats, the decks, all have their separate interest; every puff of wind, every catspaw, is a source of entertainment, and when the breeze comes, and, with everything drawing below and aloft, you tear along ten or twelve knots an hour, the sensation of pleasure is complete--if you are not sick. I can never allow that steaming, under any conditions, can give the same pleasure as sailing--nor a hundredth part of it. If you are in a hurry, steam by all means--steam, steam, steam, pile on the coal, blacken sea and sky with your filthy smoke, and get into your port; but that is the pleasure of locomotion, not of yachting. Even as regards locomotion, there are occasions when a fine sailing vessel will go by a steamer as if she were standing still. Years ago I sailed from Plymouth to Lisbon in four days, and from Lisbon to Cowes in four days, and passed all the steamers on the way! _Atque haec olim meminisse juvabit._ These are the happy moments, like forty minutes across a grass country, that fond memory brings back to us, and which Time's effacing fingers will never touch. Can steam at its best afford such delight as this? No; of course not. But, although this is my opinion of the relative pleasure of sailing and steaming, it is not by any means the general one; the race of steam _versus_ canvas has been run, and alas! steam has won easily, hands down. I say alas! for I think that, from every point of view, yachting has suffered from the general employment of steam. One of the objects of the Royal Yacht Squadron, when it was originally founded, was to encourage seamanship, and, as steam was supposed to destroy seamanship, steamers were not admitted into the Club; and the Royal Yacht Squadron was right. Steam does destroy seamanship; a steamship hand is certainly not half a sailor. Now more than half the tonnage of the Club is in steamers. I think it is a pity, and they are such steamers too! 800 tons, 1,000 tons, 1,500 tons. I do not see where they are to stop; but, I believe that in this, as in most things, we have run into excess. I cannot believe that the largest steam yacht afloat, with all the luxury and cost that upholsterers and cabinet-makers can devise, will ever give a man who is fond of the sea and seafaring matters a tithe of the gratification that a 100-ton sailing vessel will afford; one is a floating hotel, the other is a floating cottage. I prefer the cottage. The worry of maintaining discipline in a crew of forty or fifty men, amongst whom there is sure to be one or two black sheep, the smoke, the smell of oil, the vibration, the noise, even the monotony, destroy pleasure. Personally, the game seems to me not worth the candle. Thirty or forty years ago, yachting men with their sixty or hundred tonners went on year after year, fitting out, and cruising about the coast, as part of their yearly life. When their vessel was wearing out, they would sell her, and buy or build another; they seldom parted with her for any other reason. Now a man builds a floating palace or hotel at a fabulous cost; but as a general rule in about two years he wants to sell her and to retire from yachting life. A sailing vessel and a steamer are different articles; you get attached to a sailing vessel as you do to anything animate, to your horse, or your dog; but I defy anyone to get attached to a smoky, oily steamer. There is an individuality about the sailing vessel; none about the steamer. When the seven wise men of Greece delivered the oracular dictum that there were only two beautiful things in the world, women and roses, and only two good things, women and wine, they spoke according to their limited experience--they had never seen the new type of racing yacht under sail. Of course the perfection of animate beauty is represented by women, but certainly inanimate nature can show nothing more beautiful than 'Britannia,' 'Navahoe,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,' their sails well filled, the sun shining on them, streaking along twelve or thirteen knots an hour, apparently without an effort, scarcely raising a ripple. And then a yacht is so exceedingly feminine in her ways. One day everything goes right with her--she will not only do all she is asked to do, but a great deal more than her greatest admirers ever thought she could do: the next day everything goes wrong with her--she will not do anything she is asked, and indeed will not do what her admirers know she can do without an effort. Some women--I speak it with all respect--bear being 'squeezed' and 'pinched,' they almost seem to like it, at any rate they don't cry out; whereas others will cry out immediately and vigorously. So will yachts. The more you squeeze one vessel, the more you pinch her, the more she seems to enjoy it. Squeeze another, pinch her into the wind, and she lies down and calls out at once. The difference between vessels in this respect is quite funny, and essentially feminine. Curiously enough, extremes meet; that is to say, if the pendulum of taste or fashion goes very much over to one side, it is sure to go over just as far on the other. Sailing yachts of 100, 200, 300 tons have gone out of fashion, and leviathan steamers of 800, 1,000, 1,500 tons have taken their place; but at the same time that a taste for immense steamers has driven moderate-sized sailing vessels out of the field, a taste for small boats, 5-raters, 3-raters, 1/2-raters--I don't quite understand their rating--has sprung up, and promises almost to supplant the big steamers themselves. I believe the increasing popularity of these swallows of the seas--for turning, wheeling, skimming, doubling, as they do, I can compare them to nothing else--is a very good omen for yachting; they are expensive for their size and tonnage, certainly, but, after all, their cost may be counted in hundreds instead of tens of thousands. They have brought scientific boat sailing and racing within the reach of hundreds who cannot afford big racing yachts; and, moreover, the ladies join in these exciting contests, and of course very often win. In endurance, and courage, and nerve, and quickness, they are quite the equals of the other sex; and if they are occasionally a little too pertinacious, a little too eager to win, and don't always 'go about' exactly when the rules of the road require, what does it signify? Who grudges them their little victory? A flight of these sea swallows skimming over the course at Calshot Castle, on a fine day with a good working breeze, is one of the prettiest sights in the world. Independently of the health-giving and invigorating influences both to mind and body of a yachting life, it has advantages that in my opinion raise it above any other sport, if sport it is to be called. There is neither cruelty nor professionalism in yachting, except when certain foolish snobs in sheer wantonness shoot the too-confiding gulls that hover round the sterns of their yachts. There is no professional element in yachting, I repeat, not even in yacht racing, at least not enough to speak of, and it is an enormous advantage in its favour that it brings one into contact with what I believe is without doubt the best of our working population; for are not the toilers of the sea workers in the very fullest sense of the word? Yacht sailors, as a rule, are sober, honest, obliging, good-tempered, original. During the many years I have yachted, I have had crews from north, east, west, and south, and I have almost without exception found them the same. A man must be hard to please indeed, if, after a three or four months' cruise, he does not part from his crew with regret, and with a sincere wish that they may meet again. Amongst yachting skippers, I have come across some of the most honourable, trustworthy, honest men I have met in any class of life, men who know their duty, and are always willing and anxious to do it. The chief peculiarity of all the seafaring class that I have been brought into contact with is their entire freedom from vulgarity. They are obliging to the utmost of their power, but never cringing or vulgar. The winter half of their lives is spent in fishing-boats, or coasters, or sea voyages where they have to face dangers and hardships that must be experienced to be realised. As a rule, they are religious; and their preparations for the Sabbath, their washings and soapings and brushings, show with what pleasure they welcome its recurrence. Yacht minstrelsy, with its accordion, its songs of twenty verses, its never-ending choruses, its pathos, is a thing of itself. Some day perhaps some Albert Chevalier will make it fashionable. Such as they are, I know no class of Englishmen superior, if any be equal, to the sailors who man our yachts. Of course there are sharks, or at any rate dog-fish, in all waters; but where the good so immensely outnumber the bad, that man must be a fool indeed who gets into wrong hands. To say there is no vulgarity in yachting is not true; there is; but it is not amongst the men or among the skippers. And, after all, the vulgarity one sometimes sees amongst yacht-owners does not go for much; it amuses them and hurts nobody. If the amateur sailor wishes to be thought more of a sailor than the sailor born, he soon finds out his mistake, and when he gets into a good club subsides into his proper position. To those who are fond of the sea and of yachting, the yacht is the most 'homey' of residences; everything is cosy, and comfortable, and within reach; and the sensation of carrying your house and all its comforts about with you is unique. The internal economy of a yacht constitutes one of its greatest charms. Your cook, with only a little stove for which a shore cook would scarcely find any use, will send you up an excellent dinner cooked to perfection for any number of guests; and the steward! who can describe the work of a yacht's steward? I doubt whether Briareus with his hundred hands could do more than a steward does with two. At seven in the morning he is ashore for the milk, and the breakfast, and the letters, and the flowers; he valets half a dozen people, prepares half a dozen baths, brushes heaven knows how many clothes, gets the breakfast, makes the beds, cleans the plate, tidies the cabin, provides luncheon, five-o'clock tea, dinner, is always cheerful, obliging, painstaking, and more than repaid if occasionally he gets a _petit mot_ of compliment or congratulation. When he ever sleeps, or eats, I never can tell; and, far from grumbling at his work, he often resents the assistance of any shore-going servant. The introduction of steam launches has added very much to the pleasures of yachting, and to my mind has greatly lessened the advantages, if any, that steamers possess over sailing vessels. Every vessel of 100 tons and over can now carry a steam launch, big or small, at the davits, or on deck. You _sail_ from port to port, or loch to loch, in your sailing vessel, and when you have found snug anchorage, you 'out kettle' and puff away for as long as you like, enjoying the pleasure of exploring the rivers and creeks and neighbouring objects of interest. Everywhere this is delightful, at Plymouth, at Dartmouth, at Falmouth, the Scilly Isles, at St. Malo, and perhaps especially in Scotland. To my mind, the West Coast of Scotland is, _par excellence_, the happy cruising grounds of yachtsmen. I know of none like it--the number and variety of the lochs, the wild grandeur of some, the soft beauty of others, the mountains, the rocks, the islands, the solitude, the forests, the trees. Oh! the Oak and the Ash, and the bonny Ivy tree, They flourish best at home in the North Countrie. The heather, especially the white, the ferns, the mosses, the wild flowers, the innumerable birds and fish, the occasional seals and whales, the wildness of the surroundings, all combine to give it a charm that is indescribable. I have seen on the coast of Skye a whale, thirty or forty feet long, jump clean out of the water three or four times, like a salmon. Anchored close under a cliff in Loch Hourn, and happening to look up, I met the wondering eyes of a hind craning over the edge of the cliffs, and staring right down on the yacht. Go the world over, you will nowhere find so much varied beauty, above or below, on land or sea, as on the West Coast of Scotland. Nobody can explore or appreciate the beauty of the Scotch lochs without a 'kettle.' It spoils one's pleasure to keep a boat's crew pulling for eight or ten hours in a hot sun, and therefore, if you have no steam launch, many expeditions that promise much interest and pleasure are abandoned; but with your kettle and a man, or a man and a boy, you don't care how long you are out or how far you go. This to my mind is the most enjoyable combination of sails and steam--a comfortable sailing vessel, schooner or ketch for choice, to carry you from port to port, and a steam launch for exploration when you get there. The accommodation of a sailing vessel is, on a rough calculation, double the accommodation of a steamer of the same tonnage. The Earl of Wilton, Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron, had a schooner of 200 tons, and after sailing in her many years he decided, as so many others have done, to give up sailing and take to steam. To obtain exactly the same accommodation that he had on board his 200-ton schooner, he had to build a steamer, the 'Palatine,' of 400 tons. Of course in an iron steamer of 400 tons the height between decks is very much greater than in a wooden schooner of 200 tons. Also the cabins are larger, but there are no more of them. I think many people have erroneous ideas of the cost of yachting. Yacht _racing_, especially in the modern cutters of 150 or 170 tons, is very expensive. The wear and tear of spars and gear is incredible. I believe that in the yachting season of 1893 H.R.H. the Prince of Wales's vessel the 'Britannia' sprang or carried away three masts; and some of his competitors were not more lucky. Then racing wages are very heavy: 10_s._ per man when you lose, and 20_s._ when you win, with unlimited beef, and beer, &c., mount up when you have a great many hands, and the new type of racer, with booms 90 feet long, requires an unlimited number; when you look at these boats racing, they seem actually swarming with men. In addition to 10_s._ or 20_s._ to each man, the skipper gets 5 per cent. or 10 per cent. of the value of the prize, or its equivalent. So that a modern racing yacht with a crew of 30 men may, if successful, easily knock a hole in 1,000_l._ for racing wages alone, to say nothing of cost of spars, and sails, and gear, &c. Of course, in comparison with keeping a pack of hounds, or a deer forest, or a good grouse moor, or to pheasant preserving on a very large scale, the expense of yacht racing even at its worst is modest; but still in these days 1,000_l._ or 1,500_l._ is an item. But yachting for pleasure, yacht cruising in fact, is _not_ an expensive amusement. The wages of a 100- to a 200-ton cutter or schooner will vary from 50_l._ to 100_l._ a month at the outside, and the wear and tear, if the vessel and gear are in good order, is very moderate; and undoubtedly the living on board a yacht is infinitely cheaper than living ashore. Thirty to forty pounds, or as much as fifty pounds, a week may easily go in hotel bills if there is a largish party. Half the sum will keep a 100- or 150-ton yacht going, wages, wear and tear, food, &c., included, if you are afloat for three or four months. Certainly for a party of four or five yachting is cheaper than travelling on the Continent with a courier and going to first-class hotels. Travelling on the Continent under the best conditions often becomes a bore; the carriages are stuffy and dusty, the trains are late, the officials are uncivil or at least indifferent, the hotels are full, the kitchen is bad, and you come to the conclusion that you would be better at home. Now, on board a yacht you are never stuffy or dusty, the accommodation is always good, everyone about you is always civil, anxious for your comfort, the kitchen is never bad, and you cannot come to the conclusion that you would be better at home, for you _are_ at home--the most cosy and comfortable of homes! The yachting season of 1893 will always be a memorable one. The victory of H.I.M. the German Emperor's 'Meteor' for the Queen's Cup at Cowes; the victorious career of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales's 'Britannia' and the 'Valkyrie'; the series of international contests between the 'Britannia' and 'Navahoe,' with the unexpected victory of the latter over the cross-Channel course; and, finally, the gallant attempt of Lord Dunraven to bring back the cup from America, make a total of yachting incidents, and indeed surprises, that will last for a very long time. The victory of the 'Meteor' in the Queen's Cup was a surprise: it was more than a surprise when the 'Navahoe' beat 'Britannia' to Cherbourg and back in a gale of wind. I don't know that it was a matter of surprise that the Americans kept the Cup; I think, indeed, it was almost a foregone conclusion. In yachting, as in everything else, possession is nine points of the law, and a vessel sailing in her own waters, with pilots accustomed to the local currents and atmospheric movements, will always have an advantage. Whether the 'Vigilant' is a better boat than the 'Valkyrie,' whether she was better sailed, whether her centreboard had anything to do with her victory, I cannot say. But there is the result: that the 'Vigilant' won by seven minutes, which, at the rate they were sailing, means about a mile. It would appear that the Americans are still slightly ahead of us in designing yachts for speed, but they are not nearly as far ahead of us as they were forty years ago. I remember the first time the 'America' sailed at Cowes in 1851. I could not believe my eyes. It was blowing a stiff breeze, and whilst all the other schooners were laying over ten or twelve degrees, she was sailing perfectly upright, and going five knots to their four. It was a revelation--how does she do it? was in everybody's mouth. Now we are much more on an equality. The 'Navahoe,' a beautiful vessel, one of the best, comes to England and is worsted: the 'Valkyrie,' a beautiful vessel, also one of the best, goes over to America and is worsted. The moral I think is 'race at home in your own waters.' I do not believe much in international contests of any kind, gravely doubting whether they do much to promote international amity. It is a familiar sight to see H.R.H. the Prince of Wales taking part in yacht racing, but 1893 was the first occasion, in an English yacht race at any rate, that the Kaiser donned his flannels and joined personally in the contest. I suppose there is no monarch who is so dosed with ceremony and etiquette as the Emperor of Germany. What a relief, therefore, it must be to him to put aside the cares of monarchy for a whole week, and sit for hours in two or three inches of water, hauling away at the mainsheet as if his life depended on it, happy as the traditional king, if, when he has gone about, he finds he has gained six feet on his rival! But beyond all this--the heartiness, the equality, the good feeling, the absorbing interest that attends yacht racing and yacht cruising--there are some very interesting questions that suggest themselves in connection with the great increase of speed lately developed by the new type of racing yachts. There is no doubt whatever that whereas the Pleasure Fleet of England is progressing and improving every year, and is a subject of congratulation to everyone concerned with it--designers, builders, and sailors--the Business Fleet, the Royal Navy, is the very reverse: not only has it not improved, but it appears to have been going steadily the wrong road; and instead of being a joy to designers and sailors, it is confusion to the former, and something very like dismay to the latter. In James I.'s time the fleet was not held in very high estimation. It was said of it that 'first it went to Gravesend, then to Land's End, and then to No End,' and really that appears to be its condition now. Whilst yachts are developing all the perfections of the sailing ship, our ironclads seem to be developing most of the imperfections of the steamship. Whilst our yachts can do anything but speak, our ironclads can do anything but float. Of course this is an exaggeration; but exaggeration is excusable at times, at least if we are to be guided by the debates in Parliament. At any rate, it is no exaggeration to say they are very disappointing. If they go slow, they won't steer. If they go fast, they won't stop. If they collide in quite a friendly way, they go down. One sinks in twelve minutes, and the other with difficulty keeps afloat. In half a gale of wind, if the crew remain on deck, they are nearly drowned; if they go below, they are nearly asphyxiated. They have neither stability nor buoyancy. But this does not apply to English ironclads alone. French, German, Italian, American, are all the same. Some of these monsters are fitted with machinery as delicate and complicated as a watch that strikes the hours, and minutes, and seconds, tells the months, weeks, and days, the phases of the moon, &c. &c. Some of them have no fewer than thirty to thirty-five different engines on board. If the vessel containing all this wonderful and elaborate machinery never left the Thames or Portsmouth Harbour, all well and good, very likely the machinery would continue to work; but to send such a complex arrangement across the Atlantic or the Bay in winter seems to me contrary to common sense. The biggest ironclad afloat, a monster of 13,000 tons, in mid ocean is, after all, only as 'a flea on the mountain'; it is nothing; it is tossed about, and rolled about, and struck by the seas and washed by them, just as if it were a pilot boat of 60 tons. It is certain that the concussion of the sea will throw many of these delicate bits of machinery out of gear: in the 'Resolution' in a moderate gale the engine that supplied air below decks broke down; the blow that sank the unfortunate 'Victoria' threw the steering apparatus out of gear, so that if she had not gone down she would not have steered; more recently still the water in the hydraulic steering apparatus in a ship off Sheerness froze, so that she could not put to sea. If such accidents can happen in time of peace, when vessels are only manoeuvring, or going from port to port, what would happen if two 13,000-ton ships rammed each other at full speed? Is it not almost certain that the whole thirty-five engines would stop work? We have, I suppose, nearly reached the maximum of speed attainable by steam; have we nearly reached the maximum attainable by sails? By no means. When Anacharsis the younger was asked which was the best ship, he said the ship that had arrived safe in port; but even the ancients were not always infallible. The 'Resolution' did not prove she was the best ship by coming into port; on the contrary, she would have proved herself a much better ship if she had been able to continue her voyage. What we want in a man-of-war, as far as I understand the common-sense view of the question, is buoyancy, speed, handiness, and the power of keeping the seas for long periods. Racing cutters of 150 to 170 tons are now built to sail at a speed that two years ago was not dreamt of. Where a short time since the best of them used to take minutes to go about, they now go about in as many seconds. The racing vessels of the present day will reach thirteen or fourteen knots an hour, and sail ten knots on a wind; with hardly any wind at all they creep along eight knots. They do not appear to be able to go less than eight knots; double their size, and their speed would be immensely increased. Now if thirteen and fourteen knots can be got out of a vessel of 170 tons, and seventeen knots out of one double her size, what speed might you fairly expect to get out of a racing vessel of 10,000 tons? Rather a startling suggestion certainly; but, if carefully examined, not without reason. We have nothing to guide us as to the probable speed of a racing vessel of that size. Time allowance becomes lost in the immensity of the question. I see no reason why a vessel of 10,000 tons, built entirely for speed, should not, on several points of sailing, go as fast as any torpedo boat, certainly much faster than any ironclad. Her speed, reaching in a strong breeze, would be terrific; and if 'Britannia,' 'Navahoe,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Vigilant,' and vessels of that class can sail ten knots on a wind, why should not she sail fifteen? She would have to be fore and aft rigged, with an immense spread of canvas, very high masts, and very long booms; single sticks would be nowhere; but iron sticks and iron booms can be built up of any length and any strength, and with wire rigging I see no limit to size. Such a vessel amply provided with torpedoes of all descriptions, and all the modern diabolisms for destroying life, would be so dangerous a customer that no ironclad would attack her with impunity. Of course there would occasionally be conditions under which she would be at a disadvantage with ironclads; but, on the other hand, there are many conditions under which ironclads, even the best of them, would be under enormous disadvantages with her. She could circumnavigate the globe without stopping. I believe her passages would be phenomenal, life on board would be bright and healthy, she would be seaworthy, able to keep the seas in all weathers, easily handled, no complicated machinery to fail you at the moment when you were most dependent on it; and then what a beauty she would be! Why, a fleet of such vessels would be a sight for gods and men. We have sailing vessels of 3,000 and 4,000 tons, four-masted, square-rigged; they are built for carrying, not for speed, but even they make passages that to the merchant seaman of a hundred years ago would appear incredible. I probably shall not live to see the clumsy, unwieldy, complicated, unseaworthy machines called ironclads cast aside, wondered at by succeeding generations, as we now wonder at the models of antediluvian monsters at the Crystal Palace; but that such will be their fate I have no doubt whatever. For our battleships we have gone back to the times of knights in armour, when men were so loaded with iron that where they fell there they remained, on their backs or their stomachs, till their squires came to put them on their legs again. I am certain that neither the public, nor the naval authorities of the world, realise what an ironclad in time of war means--positively they will never be safe out of near reach of a coaling station. Suppose--and this is tolerably certain to happen--that when they reach a coaling station they find no coal, or very possibly find it in the hands of the enemy. What are they to do? Without coal to steam back again, or to reach another station, they will be as helpless as any derelict on the ocean: a balloon without gas, a locomotive without steam, a 100-ton gun without powder, would not be so useless as an ironclad without coal. But what has all this to do with yachting? it may be asked. Well, it is the logical and practical result of the recent development of speed in sailing vessels. It positively becomes the question whether racing sails and racing hulls may not, in speed even, give results almost as satisfactory as steam, and in many other matters results far more favourable. Of course the model of the racing yacht would have to be altered for the vessel of 10,000 tons. Vessels must get their stability from beam and from the scientific adjustment of weights, not merely from depth of keel--the Channel would not be deep enough for a vessel that drew twenty fathoms; but this change of design need not affect their speed or their stability very much. In the introduction to the Badminton Library volumes on Yachting, a great deal might be expected about the national importance of the pastime as a nursery for sailors, a school for daring, and all that sort of thing. But I think all this 'jumps to the eyes'; those who run may read it. I have preferred to treat the question of yachting more as one of personal pleasure and amusement than of national policy; and besides, I am sure that I may safely leave the more serious aspects of the sport to the writers whose names are attached to the volumes. For myself, after yachting for nearly a quarter of a century, I can safely say that it has afforded me more unmixed pleasure than any other sport or amusement I have ever tried. Everything about it has been a source of delight to me--the vessels, the skippers, the crews, the cruises. I do not think I have ever felt dull or bored on a yacht, and even now, in the evening of life, I would willingly contract to spend my remaining summers on board a 200-ton schooner. CHAPTER II OCEAN CRUISING BY LORD BRASSEY, K.C.B. I fear that I can scarcely hope to contribute to the present volume of the admirable Badminton Series anything that is very new or original. Although my voyages have extended over a long period, and have carried me into nearly every navigable sea, I have for the most part followed well-known tracks. The seamanship, as practised in the 'Sunbeam,' has been in conformity with established rule; the navigation has been that of the master-ordinary. It would be hardly fair to fill the pages of a general treatise with autobiography. As an introduction, however, to the remarks which follow, my career as a yachtsman may be summarised in the most condensed form. VOYAGES Twelve voyages to the Mediterranean; the furthest points reached being Constantinople, 1874 and 1878; Cyprus, 1878; Egypt, 1882. Three circumnavigations of Great Britain. One circumnavigation of Great Britain and the Shetland Islands, in 1881. Two circumnavigations of Ireland. Cruises with the fleets during manoeuvres, in 1885, 1888, and 1889. Voyages to Norway, in 1856, 1874, and 1885. In the latter year Mr. Gladstone and his family were honoured and charming guests. Voyages to Holland, in 1858 and 1863. Round the World, 1876-77. India, Straits Settlements, Borneo, Macassar, Australia, Cape of Good Hope, 1886-87. England to Calcutta, 1893. Two voyages to the West Indies, 1883 and 1892, the latter including visits to the Chesapeake and Washington. [Illustration: 'Sunbeam,' R.Y.S. (Lord Brassey).] Canada and the United States, 1872. The Baltic, 1860. In 1889 the 'Sunbeam' was lent to Lord Tennyson, for a short cruise in the Channel. The owner deeply regrets that he was prevented by Parliamentary duties from taking charge of his vessel with a passenger so illustrious on board. The distances covered in the course of the various cruises enumerated may be approximately given:-- _Distances sailed: compiled from Log Books_ +-------------------------------------------------------------+ Year | Knots | Year | Knots | Year | Knots | Year | Knots +-----+-------+------+-------+-------+--------+-------+-------+ 1854 | 150 | 1864 | 1,000 | 1874 | 12,747 | 1884 | 3,087 1855 | 250 | 1865 | 2,626 | 1875 | 4,370 | 1885 | 6,344 1856 | 2,000 | 1866 | 4,400 | 1876 } | 1886 } 1857 | 1,500 | 1867 | 3,000 | 1877 } 37,000 | 1887 } 36,466 1858 | 2,500 | 1868 | 1,000 | 1878 | 9,038 | 1888 | 1,175 1859 | 2,300 | 1869 | 1,900 | 1879 | 5,627 | 1889 | 8,785 1860 | 1,000 | 1870 | 1,400 | 1880 | 5,415 | 1890 | 8,287 1861 | 800 | 1871 | 5,234 | 1881 | 5,435 | 1891 | 1,133 1862 | 3,200 | 1872 | 9,152 | 1882 | 3,345 | 1892 | 11,992 1863 | 900 | 1873 | 2,079 | 1883 | 13,545 | 1893 | 8,500 +-------------------------------------------------------------+ Total, 1854-1893, 228,682 knots. I turn from the voyages to the yachts in which they were performed, observing that no later possession filled its owner with more pride than was felt in the smart little 8-tonner which heads the list. +--------+--------------------+------------+---------+---------------------+ Date | Name of yacht | Rig | Tonnage | -- +--------+--------------------+------------+---------+---------------------+ 1854-58 | Spray of the Ocean | Cutter | 8 | -- 1853 | Cymba (winner of } | | | Queen's Cup in } " | 50 { Fife of Fairlie's | the Mersey, 1857)} | { favourite 1859-60 | Albatross | | 118 | -- 1863-71 | Meteor { Auxiliary } | | { schooner } 164 | -- 1871-72 | Muriel | Cutter | 60 { Dan Hatcher's | | | { favourite 1872 | Eothen | S.S. | 340 | 1874-93 | Sunbeam { Auxiliary } | | { schooner } 532 | -- 1882-83 | Norman | Cutter | 40 | Dan Hatcher 1891 | Lorna | " | 90 { Camper and Nicholson | | | { (1881) 1892-93 | Zarita | Yawl | 115 { Fife of Fairlie | | | { (1875) +--------+--------------------+------------+---------+---------------------+ _Yachts hired_ 1885 | Lillah | Cutter | 20 | -- 1863 | Eulalie | " | 18 | -- 1873 | Livonia | Schooner | 240 | Ratsey (1871) +--------+--------------------+------------+---------+---------------------+ The variety of craft in the foregoing list naturally affords opportunity for comparison. I shall be glad if such practical lessons as I have learned can be of service to my brother yachtsmen. And, first, as to the class of vessel suitable for ocean cruising. As might be expected, our home-keeping craft are generally too small for long voyages. Rajah Brooke did some memorable work in the 'Royalist' schooner, 45 tons; but a vessel of 400 tons is not too large to keep the sea and to make a fair passage in all weathers, while giving space enough for privacy and comfort to the owner, his friends, and the crew. Such vessels as the truly noble 'St. George,' 871 tons, the 'Valhalla,' 1,400 tons, and Mr. Vanderbilt's 'Valiant,' of 2,350 tons (Mr. St. Clare Byrne's latest production), cannot be discussed as examples of a type which can be repeated in ordinary practice. Yachtsmen have been deterred from going to sufficient tonnage by considerations of expense. When providing a floating home of possibly many years, first cost is a less serious question than the annual outlay in maintaining and working. A cruise on the eastern seaboard of North America, where the business of coasting has been brought to the highest perfection, would materially alter the prevailing view as to the complements necessary for handling a schooner of the tonnage recommended. The coasting trade of the United States is carried on in large schooners, rigged with three to five masts. All the sails are fore and aft. In tacking, a couple of hands attend the headsheets, and these, with a man at the wheel, are sufficient to do the work of a watch, even in narrow channels, working short boards. The anchor is weighed and the large sails are hoisted by steam-power. The crews of the American fore-and-aft schooners scarcely exceed the proportion of one man to every hundred tons of cargo carried. For a three-masted schooner of 400 tons, a crew of twelve working hands would be ample, even where the requirements of a yacht have to be provided for. In point of safety, comfort, speed in blowing weather, and general ability to keep the sea and make passages, the 400-ton schooner would offer most desirable advantages over schooner yachts of half the tonnage, although manned with the same number of hands. It is not within the scope of my present remarks to treat of naval architecture. The volumes will contain contributions from such able men as Messrs. G. L. Watson, who designed the 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie,' and Lewis Herreshoff, whose 'Navahoe' and 'Vigilant' have recently attracted so much attention. I may, however, say that my personal experience leads me to admire the American models, in which broad beam and good sheer are always found. In 1886, I had the opportunity of seeing the International Race for the America Cup, when the English cutter 'Galatea' (Lieut. Henn, R.N.), with a sail-area of 7,146 feet, and 81 tons of ballast, sailed against the American sloop 'Puritan,' with 9,000 square feet of sail-area and 48 tons of ballast. On this occasion, the advantages of great beam, combined with a shallow middle body and a deep keel, were conspicuously illustrated. The Americans, while satisfied with their type, do not consider their sloops as seaworthy as our cutters. The development which seems desirable in our English building was indicated in a letter addressed to the 'Times' from Chicago in September 1886:-- Avoiding exaggerations on both sides, we may build up on the solid keel of an English cutter a hull not widely differing in form from that of the typical American sloop. It can be done, and pride and prejudice should not be suffered to bar the way of improvement. The yachtsmen of a past generation, led by Mr. Weld of Lulworth, the owner of the famous 'Alarm,' were not slow to learn a lesson from the contests with the 'America' in 1851. We may improve our cutters, as we formerly improved our schooners, by adaptations and modifications, which need not be servile imitations of the fine sloops our champion vessels have encountered on the other side of the Atlantic. After the lapse of seven years, we find ourselves, in 1893, at the termination of a very remarkable year's yachting. The new construction has included H.R.H. the Prince of Wales's yacht, the 'Britannia,' with 23 feet beam, Lord Dunraven's 'Valkyrie,' Mr. Clarke's 'Satanita,' and the Clyde champion 'Calluna,' all conspicuous for development of beam, combined with the deep, fine keel which is our English substitute for the American centreboard. These vessels have proved doughty antagonists of the 'Navahoe,' brought over by that spirited yacht-owner, Mr. Caryll, to challenge all comers in British waters. Thus far as to sailing yachts. Though the fashion of the hour has set strongly towards steam-propelled vessels, the beautiful white canvas, and the easy motion when under sail, will long retain their fascination for all pleasure voyaging. It is pleasant to be free from the thud of engines, the smell of oil, and the horrors of the inevitable coaling. Owners who have no love for sailing, and to whom a yacht is essentially a means of conveyance from port to port and a floating home, do well to go for steam. The most efficient and cheapest steam yacht is one in which the masts are reduced to two signal-poles, on which jib-headed trysails may be set to prevent rolling. As to tonnage, the remarks already offered on the advantages of large size apply to steamers even more than to sailing yachts. When space must be given to machinery, boilers, and bunkers, the tonnage must be ample to give the required accommodation. The cost of building and manning, and the horse-power of the engines, do not increase in proportion to the increase of size. The building of steamers for the work of tramps has now been brought down to 7_l_. per ton. I would strongly urge yacht-owners contemplating ocean cruising to build vessels of not less than 600 tons. Let the fittings be as simple and inexpensive as possible, but let the tonnage be large enough to secure a powerful sea-boat, with coal endurance equal to 3,000 knots, at ten knots, capable of keeping up a fair speed against a stiff head wind, and habitable and secure in all weathers. Deck-houses are a great amenity at sea, but the conventional yacht skipper loves a roomy deck, white as snow, truly a marvel of scrubbing. Considerations of habitability at sea are totally disregarded by one who feels no need for an airy place of retirement for reading and writing. The owner, seeking to make life afloat pass pleasantly, will consider deck cabins indispensable. There remains a third and very important type for ocean cruising, that of the sailing yacht with auxiliary steam-power. The 'Firefly,' owned by Sir Henry Oglander, the pioneer in this class, suggested to the present writer a debased imitation in the 'Meteor,' 164 tons. About the same date somewhat similar vessels were brought out, amongst others by Lord Dufferin, whose earliest experiences under sail had been given to the world in 'Letters from High Latitudes.' All will remember the never-varying announcement by a not too cheering steward, on calling his owner, in response to the inquiry, 'How is the wind?' 'Dead ahead, my lord, dead ahead!' [Illustration: 'Sunbeam'--midship section.] The 'Sunbeam' was launched in 1874; following in her wake, the 'Chazalie,' 1875, 'Czarina,' 1877, and the 'Lancashire Witch,' 1878, appeared in rapid succession. The 'Lancashire Witch' was bought by the Admiralty for a surveying vessel, as being especially adapted to the requirements of that particular service. The 'St. George,' 831 tons, launched 1890, is an enlargement and improvement on her predecessors already named. She does credit to her owner, Mr. Wythes; the designer, Mr. Storey; and the builders, Messrs. Ramage. The 'Sunbeam,' as the first of this class, has been a great success. She was designed by Mr. St. Clare Byrne, M.I.N.A., as a composite three-masted topsail-yard screw schooner, constructed at Birkenhead, and launched in 1874. The following table gives the leading details:-- Material of hull Iron frame, teak skin Length of hull 159 feet, over all 170 feet Beam 27 ft. 6 in. Depth of hold 13 ft. 9 in. Displacement in tons 576 tons Draught 13 ft. 6 in. Registered tonnage 227 tons Engines, compound By Laird, of Birkenhead Horse-power 70 nominal, or 350 indicated Stowage of coals in bunkers 70 tons Sail area 9,200 square yards Weight of port anchor 12 cwt. 2 qr. " starboard anchor 12 cwt. 1 qr. 6 lbs. Size of cable on board 1-1/16 inch } " new cable on shore 1-2/16 " } bower cables Stowage of water: Fore tanks 6-1/2 tons } After tanks 4 " } total, 16 tons Reserve tanks 5-1/2 " } Lead ballast 75 tons Speed in fine weather 9 knots Average consumption of coal daily 6 tons _Dimensions of Spars_ +--------------------------------+-------------+-------------------------+ -- | Length | Diam. +--------------------------------+-------------+-------------------------+ FORE | ft. | in. Foremast, from deck to masthead | 69-1/2 | -- Below deck | 14-1/2 | -- Total | 84 | 19-1/2 Top and topgallant-mast | 45 | 12 Fore-yard | 50-1/2 | 12 Topsail-yard | 42-1/2 | 9 Topgallant-yard | 33 | 7 Fore-gaff | 29-1/2 | 7 Fore-boom | 33-3/4 | 9 MAIN | | Mainmast from deck to masthead | 74 | -- Below deck | 14-1/2 | -- Total | 88-1/2 | 19 Main-topmast | 42-2/3 | 9-1/2 Main-gaff | 29-3/4 | 7-1/2 Main-boom | 35-1/4 | 8-3/4 MIZEN | | Mizenmast from deck to masthead | 78-1/2 | -- Below deck | 7-1/2 | -- Total | 86 | 18-1/2 Mizen-topmast | 43-1/2 | 9-1/2 Mizen-gaff | 33 | 9 Mizen-boom | 52-3/4 | 13-1/2 +--------------------------------+-------------+-------------------------+ Jibboom, length 49 ft. 9 in., diameter 9-1/2 inches Bowsprit " 21 ft. 9 in. " 17-1/2 inches (outside knighthead) +------------------------------------------------------------------------+ It may be interesting to give some general account of the 'Sunbeam's' performances at sea. In making the voyage round the world in 1876-77 the total distances covered were 15,000 knots under sail and 12,800 knots under steam. The best run under steam alone was 230 knots. The most successful continuous performance was on the passage from Penang to Galle, when 1,451 knots were steamed in a week, with a daily consumption of 4-1/4 tons of coal. The best runs under sail, from noon to noon, were 298 and 299 knots respectively. The first was on the passage from Honolulu to Yokohama, sailing along the 16th parallel of north latitude, and between 163° and 168° 15' east. The second was in the Formosa Channel. The highest speed ever attained under sail was 15 knots, in a squall in the North Pacific. On 28 days the distance under sail alone has exceeded, and often considerably exceeded, 200 knots. The best consecutive runs under sail only were:-- 1. Week ending August 13, South Atlantic, in the south-east trades, wind abeam, force 5, 1,456 knots. 2. Week ending November 19, South Pacific, south-east trades, wind aft, force 5, 1,360 knots. 3. Four days, January 15 to 18, North Pacific, north-east trades, wind on the quarter, force 5 to 9, 1,027 knots. The average speed in this case was 10.7 knots an hour. The following were the average speeds of the longer passages:-- +-------------------------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | |Days at | Total |Distance| Daily | | ---- | sea |Distance| under |average| | | | | steam | | +-------------------------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | | | miles | miles | miles | |1. Cape Verdes to Rio | 18 | 3,336 | 689 | 185 | |2. Valparaiso to Yokohama| 72 | 12,333 | 2,108 | 171 | |3. Simonosaki to Aden | 37 | 6,93 | 4,577 | 187 | +-------------------------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ On a later voyage to Australia, the total distance covered was 36,709 knots, 25,808 under sail and 10,901 under steam. The runs under sail included thirty-nine days over 200 knots, fifteen days over 240, seven days over 260, and three days over 270. The best day was 282 knots. Between Port Darwin and the Cape the distance covered was 1,047 knots under steam, and 5,622 knots under sail. The average speed under steam and sail was exactly eight knots. In the fortnight, October 13 to 27, 1887, 3,073 knots, giving an average speed of nine knots an hour, were covered under sail alone, with winds of moderate strength. Balloon canvas was freely used. On returning from the voyage just referred to, the boilers of the 'Sunbeam' (which are still at work, after nineteen years' service) required such extensive repairs that it was recommended to remove them and to replace with new. Hesitating to take this step, we went through two seasons under sail alone, the propeller being temporarily removed and the aperture closed. In 1889 a voyage was accomplished to the Mediterranean under these conditions. Making the passage from Portsmouth to Naples, in the month of February, we covered a total distance of 2,303 miles from port to port in ten days and four hours. The same good luck with the winds followed us in subsequent passages to Messina, Zante, Patras, and Brindisi, during which we steadily maintained the high average of ten knots. On the return voyage down the Mediterranean, the results were very different. As this novel experiment in running an auxiliary steam yacht under sail alone may be of interest, a few further details may be added. The average rate of speed for the distance sailed through the water was approximately 6.4 knots. The total number of days at sea was 44. On 23 days the winds were contrary. On 21 days favourable winds were experienced. With much contrary wind and frequent calms the distances made good on the shortest route from port to port averaged 123 miles per day. For the total distance of 3,020 miles from Portsmouth to Brindisi, touching at Naples, Messina, Taormina, Zante, and Patras, with fresh and favourable breezes, the distances made good on the shortest route averaged 201 miles per day. On the passage down the Mediterranean, from Brindisi to Gibraltar, calling at Palermo and Cagliari, against persistent head winds, and with 60 hours of calm, the distance made good from port to port was reduced to 67 miles a day. Homewards, from Gibraltar, against a fresh Portuguese trade, the distance made good rose to an average of 122 miles through the water per day, the average rate of sailing being 6-1/4 knots. From a position 230 miles nearly due west of Cape St. Vincent to Spithead, the 'Sunbeam' covered the distance of 990 miles in six days, being for the most part close-hauled. +------------------------------+---------+---------+---------+----------+------+ | Total | | | | |distances|Distances| Time | Fair | | port to | sailed |under way| winds | Calms | port | | | | +------------------------------+---------+---------+---------+----------+------+ | miles | miles |days hrs.| days hrs.| hours Portsmouth to Naples | 2,200 | 2,303 | 10 4 | 9 0 | 11 Naples to Brindisi (calling } | | | | at Messina, Taormina, Zante,} 820 | 841 | 5 0 | 4 0 | 16 and Patras) } | | | | Brindisi to Palermo | 400 | 638 | 5 6 | 0 7 | 13 Palermo to Cagliari | 224 | 353 | 3 19 | -- | 11 Cagliari to Gibraltar | 730 | 1,188 | 10 5 | 2 2 | 37 Gibraltar to Portsmouth | 1,175 | 1,457 | 9 16 | 6 0 | 8 +------------------------------+---------+---------+---------+----------+------+ Total | 5,549 | 6,780 | 44 2 | 21 9 | 96 +------------------------------+---------+---------+---------+----------+------+ In the course of the voyage numerous gales of wind were experienced, viz.: on February 12, a severe mistral, on the passage from Minorca towards Naples; March 28, heavy gale from westward off Stromboli; April 9 and 10, gale from S.W. at the mouth of the Adriatic; April 17, gale from S., off south coast of Sardinia; April 29 and 30, gale from W., off Almeria. On the days of light winds and calms, balloon topmast staysails, a jib-topsail, and an extra large lower studsail, were found most valuable in maintaining the rate of sailing. In ordinary cruising I find that, as a general rule, one-third of the distance is covered under steam, and that upon the average we make passages at the rate of 1,000 miles a week. The consumption of coal is very moderate. For a voyage round the world, of 36,000 miles, the coal consumed was only 325 tons. [Illustration: 'Sunbeam,' R.Y.S. Designed by St. Clare Byrne, 1874.] If I were dealing with the question of rig, with the long experience gained on the 'Sunbeam,' I should decidedly adopt the barque rig. In confirmation of this opinion, it may be interesting to note that when H.M. brig 'Beagle' was under the command of Captain FitzRoy, R.N., for a lengthened service in the Straits of Magellan and the coasts of South America, the mizenmast was stuck through the skylight of the captain's cabin, an arrangement which, while of service to the ship, was not unnaturally a source of discomfort to the captain. In making passages in the Trades, with light winds on the quarter and the usual swell, fore-and-aft sails are constantly lifting, while sails set on fixed yards keep asleep. They draw better, and there is no chafe. I have found great advantage from the use of large studding-sails, made of light duck. This material was highly esteemed when it was first brought out. In modern practice a combination of silk and hemp furnishes a greatly superior material for the huge spinnakers, of 4,000 square feet, carried by the 'Navahoe' and 'Valkyrie.' The new balloon sails can no longer be called canvas. They may more accurately be described as muslin. I will not attempt a recital of nautical adventures in the present chapter; but a few experiences may be briefly described. The worst passage I ever made was in the 'Eothen,' s.s., 340 tons, in 1872, from Queenstown to Quebec, touching at St. John's, Newfoundland. On August 14 we put to sea deeply laden, with bunkers full, and 15 tons of coal in bags on deck. In this condition we had 2 ft. 9 in. of freeboard. On the second day out we encountered a summer gale. Shortly after it came on, we shipped a sea, which broke over the bow and filled us up to the rail. At the same time the engineer put his head above the engine-room hatch, and announced that, the bearings having become heated, he must stop the engines. For a short time we were in danger of falling off into the trough of the sea. It was a great relief when the engines once more slowly turned ahead. In the mid-Atlantic, we encountered a cyclone, passing through the calm but ominous centre into a violent gale from the north-west, which lasted twenty-four hours. We were battened down and suffered considerable discomfort. Fortunately, no heavy sea broke on board as we lay to under double-reefed main storm-trysail, the engines slowly turning ahead. Two days later we encountered another sharp gale, in which the barometer fell to 29.14°. Happily it soon passed over. After this third gale we had a change of wind to the eastward, and, pushing on, with all sail set, we reached St. John's in thirteen days from Queenstown, with four inches of water in the tanks, two tons of coal in the bunkers, the decks leaking in every seam, cabins in utter disarray, and a perfect wreck aloft and on deck. After leaving St. John's, where we had confidently hoped that the worst was over, we encountered a hurricane off Cape Race, which exceeded in violence anything that had been experienced in these waters for many years. We lay to for three days, and when the storm abated put into the French island St. Pierre, almost exhausted. It was an unspeakable relief when we entered the St. Lawrence. The lesson to be drawn from my voyage in the 'Eothen' is obvious. It is a great mistake to attempt to cross the stormiest ocean in the world in a steam yacht of such small size. For ocean steaming much more tonnage and power are necessary. The heaviest gale ever experienced by the 'Sunbeam' was off Flamborough Head, in 1881. I embarked at Middlesbrough on the evening of October 13, intending to sail for Portsmouth at daybreak on the following morning; but, finding the wind from the south and the barometer depressed, our departure was deferred. At 9 A.M. the barometer had fallen to 28.87°, but as the wind had changed to W.N.W., and was off shore from a favourable quarter, I determined to proceed to sea. We were towed down the Tees, and as we descended the river I conferred with the pilot as to what we might anticipate from the remarkable depression in the barometer. He was of opinion that a severe gale was at hand, that it would blow from the north-west, and that there was no reason for remaining in port. The tug was accordingly cast off at the mouth of the Tees, and we made sail. Foreseeing a storm, topmasts were housed, boats were secured on deck, and we kept under close-reefed canvas, setting the main and mizen jib-headed trysails, double-reefed foresail and forestay-sail, and reefed standing jib. As the day advanced no change took place in the weather. The wind blew strongly, but not with the force of a gale, and the sea was comparatively smooth. Meanwhile the barometer continued to descend rapidly, and at 2 P.M. had fallen to 28.45°. As nothing had yet occurred to account for this depression, my sailing-master remarked that it must have been caused by the heavy showers of rain which had fallen in the course of the morning. I knew from former experiences that it was not the rain, but the coming storm, that was indicated by the barometer. It had needed some resolution to quit the mouth of the Tees in the morning, and at mid-day, when we were off Whitby, a still greater effort was required to resist the temptation to make for a harbour. No further incidents occurred until 3 P.M., when we were nearing Flamborough Head. Here we were at last overtaken by the long impending storm. Looking back to the north-west, over the starboard quarter, we saw that the sea had suddenly been lashed into a mass of white foam. The hurricane was rushing forward with a velocity and a force which must have seemed terrible to the fleet of coasting vessels around us. Before the gale struck the 'Sunbeam' our canvas had been reduced to main and mizen trysails and reefed standing-jib; but even with the small spread of sail, and luffed up close to the wind, our powerful little vessel careened over to the fury of the blast until the lee-rail completely disappeared under water--an incident which had never previously occurred during all the extensive voyages we had undertaken. Such was the force of the wind that a sailing vessel near us lost all her sails, and our large gig was stove in from the tremendous pressure of the gunwale against the davits. We took in the jib and the mizen-trysail, and, with our canvas reduced to a jib-headed main-trysail, were soon relieved of water on deck. For an hour and a half we lay-to on the starboard tack, standing in for the land below Burlington Bay. We were battened down, and felt ourselves secure from all risks except collision. The fury of the wind so filled the air with spoon-drift that we could not see a ship's length ahead, and in such crowded waters a collision was a far from impossible contingency. At 6 P.M. we thought it prudent to wear, so as to gain an offing during the night, and gradually drew out of the line of traffic along the coast. At 9 P.M. the extreme violence of the hurricane had abated, and we could see, through occasional openings in the mist, the masthead lights of several steamers standing, like ourselves, off the land for the night. At midnight the barometer was rising rapidly, and the wind gradually settled down into a clear hard gale, accompanied by a heavy sea, running down the coast from the north. At 6 A.M. we carefully examined the dead reckoning, and, having fixed on an approximate position, we determined to bear away, steering to pass in mid-channel between the Outer Dowsing and the Dudgeon, through a passage about ten miles in width. We were under easy sail; but, under the main-trysail, double-reefed foresail, staysail, fore-topsail, and reefed jib, we scudded at the rate of eleven knots. A constant look-out had been kept from aloft, and at 10 A.M., having nearly run the distance down from our assumed position when we bore away to the north end of the Outer Dowsing, I established myself in the crosstrees until we should succeed in making something. After a short interval we saw broken water nearly ahead on the port bow. We at once hauled to the wind, steering to the south-west, and set the mizen-trysail. The lead showed a depth of three fathoms, and we were therefore assured that we had been standing too near to the Outer Dowsing. The indications afforded by the lead were confirmed by sights, somewhat roughly taken, and by the circumstance of our having shortly before passed through a fleet of trawlers evidently making for the Spurn. In less than an hour after we had hauled to the wind we found ourselves in the track of several steamers. At 3 P.M. we made the land near Cromer, and at 5.30 we brought up in the Yarmouth Roads, thankful to have gained a secure shelter from the gale. In connection with this experience, it may be remarked that, as a general rule, our pleasure fleet is over-masted. We are advised in these matters by sailmakers, who look to the Solent and its sheltered water as the normal condition with which yachtsmen have to deal. When we venture forth from that smooth and too-much frequented arm of the sea into open waters, our vessels have to pass a far more severe ordeal, and they do not always come out of it to our satisfaction. Many are compelled to stay in harbour when a passage might have been made in a snugly rigged yacht. One of the longest gales experienced in the 'Sunbeam' was on the passage from Nassau to Bermuda, in November 1883. The gale struck us south of Cape Hatteras, on November 25, in latitude 31.54° N. The north-east wind gradually subsided, and we pushed on, under steam, for Bermuda at 7 knots. The head sea increased, but no change took place in the force or direction of the wind from 8 P.M. on the 25th till 4 A.M. on the 27th. Meanwhile, the barometer had gradually fallen to 29.82°, giving warning for a heavy gale, which commenced at north-by-east, and ended on November 30, at 4 P.M., with the wind at north-west. We lay-to on the 27th, under treble-reefed foresail and double-reefed mainsail, shipping no water, but driving to the south-east at the rate of at least one knot an hour. On the 28th we decided to try the 'Sunbeam' under treble-reefed foresail and mainsail, double-reefed fore-staysail and reefed mizen-trysail. With this increased spread of canvas we were able to make two knots an hour on the direct course to Bermuda, and to keep sufficient steerage way to luff up to an ugly sea. The behaviour of the vessel elicited the unqualified approval of our most experienced hands. Bad weather quickly brings out the qualities of seamen. Our four best men relieved each other at the wheel, and it was due in no small degree to their skill that, in a gale lasting three days, no heavy sea broke on board. I need not say that all deck openings were secured, especially at night, by means of planks and canvas. Our situation might perhaps excite sympathy, but we had no cause to complain. Meals could not be served in the usual manner, but by placing every movable thing on the floor of the cabins and on the lee side, and by fixing ourselves against supports, or in a recumbent position, we were secured against any further effects of the force of gravity, and did our best to enjoy the novelty of the situation. On the 30th the wind veered to the north-west, and the weather rapidly improved. The sea turned gradually with the wind, but for many hours we met a heavy swell from the north-east. An acquaintance with the law of storms had proved invaluable on this occasion. There is no situation in which knowledge is more truly power, none in which, under a due sense of the providential care of Heaven, it gives a nobler confidence to man, than at sea, amid the raging of a hurricane. Mr. Emerson has truly said, 'They can conquer who believe they can. The sailor loses fear as fast as he acquires command of sails, and spars, and steam. To the sailor's experience, every new circumstance suggests what he must do. The terrific chances which make the hours and minutes long to the mere passenger, he whiles away by incessant application of expedients and repairs. To him a leak, a hurricane, a waterspout, is so much work, and no more. Courage is equality to the problem, in affairs, in science, in trade, in council, or in action. Courage consists in the conviction that the agents with which you contend are not superior in strength, or resources, or spirit, to you.' As a specimen of a dirty night at sea, I give another extract from the log-book. During our voyage round the world in 1876-77, after leaving Honolulu for Japan, as we approached Osima, on January 26, we were struck by a tremendous squall of wind and rain. We at once took in the flying square-sail, stowed the topgallant-sail and topsail, reefed the foresail and mizen, and set mainsail. At 6 P.M., the wind still blowing a moderate gale, the mizen was double-reefed. We pursued our way through a confused sea, but without shipping any water. All seemed to be going well, when, at 8 P.M., shortly after I had taken the wheel, a sudden squall heeled us over to the starboard side, where the gig was hung from the davits outboard. At the same time a long mountainous wave, rolling up from the leeward, struck the keel of the gig and lifted it up, unshipping the fore davit, and causing the boat to fall into the boiling sea, which threatened at every instant to dash it to pieces. We at once brought to. A brave fellow jumped into the boat and secured a tackle to the bows, and the gig was hoisted on board and secured on deck intact. It was a very seaman-like achievement. A heavy gale continued during the night, and at 2 A.M., on the 27th, we met with another accident. The boatswain, a man of great skill and experience, was at the wheel, when a steep wave suddenly engulfed the jibboom, and the 'Sunbeam,' gallantly springing up, as if to leap over instead of cleaving through the wave, carried away the spar at the cap. This brought down the topgallant-mast. The jibboom was a splendid Oregon spar, 54 feet long, projecting 28 feet beyond the bowsprit. It was rigged with wire rope, and the martingale was sawn through with the greatest difficulty. The record of personal experiences must not be further prolonged. To the writer yachting has been to some extent part of a public life, mainly devoted to the maritime interests of the country. To conduct the navigation and pilotage of his vessel seemed fitting and even necessary, if the voyages undertaken were to be regarded in any sense as professional. There is something pleasant in any work which affords the opportunity for encountering and overcoming difficulties. It is satisfactory to make a headland or a light with precision after a long run across the ocean, diversified perhaps by a heavy gale. To be able to thread the channels of the West Coast of Scotland, the Straits of Magellan, the Eastern Archipelago, the labyrinths of the Malawalle Channel of North-East Borneo, or the Great Barrier Reef of Australia, without a pilot is an accomplishment in which an amateur may perhaps take legitimate pleasure. To the yachtsman who truly loves the sea, it will never be satisfactory to remain ignorant of navigation. Practice of the art is not a relaxation. It demands constant attention, and is an interruption to regular reading. It may imply a considerable amount of night-work. On the other hand, the owner who is a navigator can take his proper place as the commander of his own ship. All that goes on around him when at sea becomes more interesting. He is better able to appreciate the professional skill of others. The confidence which grows with experience cannot be expected in the beginning. The writer first took charge of navigation in 1866, on a voyage up the Baltic. It was a chequered experiment. In the Great Belt we ran ashore twice in one day. In making Stockholm we had to appeal to a Swedish frigate, which most kindly clewed up her sails, and answered our anxious enquiries by writing the course on a black-board. On the return voyage to England we struck the coast some sixty miles north of our reckoning. Such a history does not repeat itself now. It is not in books or at the library table that the art of the seaman can be acquired. Quickness of eye, nerve, promptitude of judgment, are the indispensable gifts, which must be gained by long and varied experience at sea. The seamanship required in a gale of wind on the open ocean, the seamanship displayed in sailing matches in over-sparred yachts, sailed mainly in smooth waters, and the seamanship called for in pilotage waters not previously visited, and especially at night, are different branches of a wide profession. There is a skill of a very high order in docking an Atlantic liner at Liverpool. There is a skill of a different but equally high order in knocking huge ironclads about in fleet-exercising at sea. There is a skill in bringing the Channel steamers alongside the pier at Dover. The skill of every description of nautical specialist will never be combined in one individual. There is some risk that the more careful the navigator, the less dashing the same man may be as a seaman. I must not conclude without some reference to the most attractive cruising grounds. To begin near home, the Seine, the Meuse, the coast of Holland, the Baltic, the coast of Norway, the grand West Coast of Scotland, the East Coast of England (a cruising ground too much neglected by yachtsmen), and the Channel are all favourite haunts of mine. Going further afield, in my own case nothing was more satisfactory than a voyage along the East Coast of North America, in which every river was ascended to the head of the navigation for sea-going vessels. Certain parts of the Mediterranean offer a perfect cruising ground for the winter months. Most suitable waters for yachting are those bounded by the Straits of Gibraltar on the west and the Balearic Islands on the north-east. Here the mistral of the Gulf of Lyons is not felt. The Spanish coast offers many places of shelter and many points of interest. In westerly winds keep to the eastward of Cape de Gata; in north-easterly winds to the westward. There is another charming cruising ground between Corsica and the Italian coast, as far north as Spezia, and south down to Civita Vecchia. Sicily is admirable for yachting. A weather shore can be always made upon its beautiful coasts. In the spring or autumn the Archipelago and eastern side of the Adriatic can be confidently recommended. In the winter months the West Indies are a most perfect cruising ground. It will be well to make Barbados the landfall, then run to Trinidad, proceeding thence to Grenada, and following on from island to island down to Jamaica. The return voyage should be by Havana, and thence to a port in the United States, and by an ocean liner home, or by the Bahamas, Bermuda and the Azores to England. The Pacific, Japan and Eastern Archipelago will well repay those who can give the time required for such distant voyages. Lastly, let no yachtsman speak contemptuously of the Solent. It is no exaggeration to say that if the splendid natural breakwater of the Isle of Wight were removed, half the tonnage of yachts under the British flag would disappear. The Solent offers a sufficient space of sheltered water for all but the very largest yachts to manoeuvre in conveniently. Breezes are seldom wanting, and the shores of the Wight are most pleasing. In this miniature ocean many have formed tastes for the sea which have led to more ambitious voyages. The estuary of the Clyde merits equally high praise, but the puffs off Bute are less gentle than those off the Wight, and the racing partakes of a hard-weather character, with streaks of calm. In the preceding observations it has been assumed that I have been addressing readers who love the sea in all those varying phases which have given inspiration to some of the finest creations of poetic genius. The Greeks were lovers of the sea. We have been reminded of their admirable descriptions by Mr. Froude, in a brilliant passage:-- The days pass, and our ship flies past upon her way. [Greek: glaukon hyper oidma kyanochroa te kymatôn rhothia polia thalassas.] How perfect the description! How exactly in those eight words Euripides draws the picture of the ocean; the long grey heaving swell, the darker steel-grey on the shadowed slope of the waves, and the foam on their breaking crests. Our thoughts flow back as we gaze to the times long ago, when the earth belonged to other races, as it now belongs to us. The ocean is the same as it was. Their eyes saw it as we see it. Time writes no wrinkle on that azure brow. Nor is the ocean alone the same. Human nature is still vexed with the same problems, mocked with the same hopes, wandering after the same illusions. The sea affected the Greeks as it affects us, and was equally dear to them. It was a Greek who said: 'The sea washes off all the ills of men,' the 'stainless one,' as Æschylus called it, the eternally pure. The Romans had in Virgil a poet of the sea, who could attune his lyre to perfect harmony, alike with freshening or subsiding breeze:-- Vela dabant læti et spumas salis ære ruebant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ferunt ipsa æquora classem, Æquatæ spirant auræ, datur hora quieti. The sea has been the favoured theme of our English poets. There has been none in any language who has excelled our own Byron:-- Oft had he ridden on that wingèd wave, And loved its roughness for the speed it gave. For me, the sea was a dream in my earliest years. I have spent upon its waters some of the brightest, and, alas! some of the saddest of my days; and now, in the autumn of my life, the unforgotten past, and the aims and work of the present, are more than ever bound up with the sea. Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee; Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith, triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee--are all with thee. CHAPTER III CORINTHIAN DEEP-SEA CRUISING BY C. E. SETH-SMITH, C.B.[1] (Late commanding London Brigade Royal Naval Volunteers) [Footnote 1: I am deeply indebted to Mr. D. W. Marsden, late honorary secretary of the London Corps Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers, for his assistance in the compilation of these notes.] The record of Corinthian sailing would not be complete without some account of deep-sea voyages in yachts manned by amateur seamen. The cruises of Corinthian yachtsmen are naturally chiefly confined to the estuaries of rivers and the seas immediately adjacent, and, as a rule, are within sight of the coast. Considerations of time and expense are generally sufficient to impose these limits. That the dangers of the sea and the difficulty of navigation are no impediments is amply proved by the records of more extended voyages in craft of all sizes, made public from time to time. There are, however, certain other difficulties which, as a rule, stand in the way of Corinthian seamen extending their experience of the sea still further. For an ocean voyage of any extent a craft of some size is necessary, and it must be manned by a crew of considerable number. Amateur yachtsmen are scattered, and find it difficult to take their cruises together in any large numbers. The yacht-owner, who wished to man his yacht for an ocean voyage solely or mainly with Corinthian seamen, would not find it easy to obtain a sufficient number to make up his complement. A movement was made some twenty years ago to develop and utilise for the national defence the seafaring instincts and tastes latent in many of our young countrymen, and until it was abandoned in 1892[2] provided a body of men, Corinthian yachtsmen and others possessing seafaring capacities, and formed an exceptional reservoir on which yacht-owners could draw who desired to give opportunities of more extended seafaring to the amateur seaman. The more extended voyages of the schooner 'Hornet' were undertaken to give a pleasurable holiday to the members of the corps and to increase their efficiency as Naval Volunteers. The 'Hornet' was a powerful yacht of 101 tons register and about 140 tons Thames measurement, she was 85 feet on the water-line and nearly 20 feet beam, and drew about 10 feet of water in sea-going trim. She was built at Cowes, and was rigged as a topsail-yard schooner, carrying in addition to her ordinary fore and aft sails a square foresail, a fore-topsail and topgallant-sail, and fore-topmast and lower studding-sails. [Footnote 2: The late corps of Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers of London, Liverpool, Bristol and Glasgow.] All her gear was fitted as far as possible in man-of-war fashion, and both on deck and below she was arranged as one of the small old-fashioned vessels of Her Majesty's service. A wardroom and four separate sleeping cabins for her officers were arranged aft, and a very large forecastle gave ample lower deck accommodation for some thirty-five or forty petty officers and men. The majority of the 'Hornet's' voyages were restricted by the limited holidays of her amateur crew, but she was occasionally manned by crews not tied in such a degree by business engagements, and during the summers of 1879, 1880 and 1881 sailed round the coast of Ireland, visited the Cattegat Sound and Danish Islands, Christiania and some other Norwegian ports, the coasts of Spain and Portugal, and Gibraltar, and made a short trip down the coast of Morocco. The latter terminated in an exciting passage home from Lisbon in stormy weather, during which the Corinthians were for upwards of three weeks out of sight of land on a strictly limited scale of provisions, hove to in a gale of wind for some days, and driven into the vicinity of the Azores. Since the present chapter is concerned solely with Corinthian yachting on the ocean, nothing need be said about the many short cruises round and about the English and French coasts and up and down the Channel, during which the 'Hornet's' ever-varying crew were gaining some practical knowledge of seamanship and testing their individual fitness for their voluntary duties. About the end of June 1879 the 'Hornet' sailed from the Thames, manned by thirty-five amateurs, Mr. Edward Dodd, who was rated as boatswain, and the galley staff being the only professional seamen on board. Mr. Samuel Brooks (recently thrice mayor of Redhill) acted as chief petty officer, chief quartermaster and occasional watch-keeper, and Mr. R. T. Pritchett was borne on the books and drew rations as the 'staff officer,' the guide, philosopher and friend of the whole ship's company. The weather of the summer of 1879 is notorious, and the 'Hornet's' first ocean cruise was a trying one for her Corinthian crew, who experienced to the full the miseries of a month at sea in bad weather. From the day she left Dartmouth in June to her arrival in the Solent in July her log-book records no single fine day. The afternoon of Friday, July 17 (the ship having left Queenstown July 16) is the only day on which 'light airs and sunshine' are entered even for a few hours. Nevertheless the crew expressed themselves as thoroughly delighted with the experiences of their month's cruise. Some account of this trip appeared in the 'Graphic' of October 18, 1879, with illustrations by the Staff Officer, of which the principal represented 'stowing the foresail off the Longships at midnight in a gale, June 30, 1879.' On this occasion the 'Hornet' was compelled by a heavy gale from the south-west to force a passage round the Land's End, and make for the Bristol Channel, running up to the Mumbles. As the author remarks, such weather on a dark night was a severe trial for the practical seamanship of gentlemen sailors, but they proved themselves equal to it, and were afterwards complimented on their efficiency by the Admiral, Sir William Dowell, on arrival at Queenstown. The following year--1880--a much longer and most enjoyable cruise of six weeks was undertaken on which the Captain, Mr. C. E. Seth-Smith, was assisted by Messrs. A. B. Woodd and E. Graham as lieutenants. The crew numbered twenty-five all told; Mr. Dodd again acted as boatswain, and Mr. Brooks as chief petty officer. The 'Hornet' reached Copenhagen on July 10, and after cruising among the lovely Danish islands for some days, her officers and crew were hospitably entertained by the Royal Danish Yacht Club, then holding their annual regatta at Svendborg. From Denmark she passed to Christiania, and on July 25 the ship's company landed in Norway and enjoyed a cariole trip of two days across the country to the Falls of Hönefos. After cruising for two or three days along the southern coasts and up the Fjords the 'Hornet' left Norway and returned to England, arriving at Greenhithe on August 4 after a well-managed and most successful expedition. She was the largest vessel, manned entirely by amateur sailors, that had appeared in those seas. The account from which the above particulars are taken appeared in the 'Illustrated London News' for February 12, 1881, and was accompanied by illustrations from photographs by Mr. Henry Denison Pender, son of Mr. (now Sir John) Pender, M.P., who was a member of the crew and an enthusiastic Royal Naval Artillery Volunteer, and whose lamented death soon after was the occasion of much grief to his many friends. The following year--1881--a cruise of even more extended scope was undertaken. The 'Hornet' left Dover on May 20, and proceeded down Channel to Dartmouth under the command of Mr. C. E. Seth-Smith, assisted by Mr. A. B. Woodd, Mr. Dodd again acting as boatswain and Mr. Brooks at his old post. At Dartmouth all hands signed articles. On Tuesday, May 24, the steam launch and boiler having been got on board, the 'Hornet' left England for the South at 9 A.M. and lost sight of the English coast at 11.15 A.M., Prawl Point being her point of departure. The weather on her passage out was on the whole favourable, and on Tuesday, May 31, the Burlings, fifty miles west of Lisbon, was sighted, the ship's run from noon of the 30th to noon of the 31st having been 218 knots. On June 3, after a period of light winds and calm, the ship being about 120 miles west of Gibraltar, it came on to blow from the eastward, and the square fore-topsail was got in for the first time since leaving Dartmouth. On June 4, the wind increasing to a whole gale from the east with heavy sea, they stood in shore to south of Cape Spartel and lay to 'up and down' in Spartel Bay all night. Next day, the weather moderating, the 'Hornet' stood over to the Spanish coast and sighted Gibraltar Rock at 6.15 P.M., for which she stood steadily in; but at midnight, being becalmed, she was towed in by the gig, and at 2.30 A.M. the anchor was dropped in six fathoms off the Ragged Staff in Gibraltar Bay, after a passage from Dartmouth of thirteen days. The interval between June 6 and 11 was spent at Gibraltar in necessary cleaning and repairs, in exploring the Rock and its neighbourhood, and in giving and receiving hospitalities; and at noon on June 11 a start was made for Tangier, where the 'Hornet' arrived at 5 A.M. There she remained until the afternoon of June 12, when, the sights of the old Moorish town having been seen and various Oriental purchases made, the anchor was weighed for Cadiz. At 4 A.M. next day Cadiz was sighted, a pilot taken on board, and at 9.30 A.M. the anchor was let go in Cadiz Bay. At Cadiz a halt was made until June 17, employed by the ship's company in excursions to Seville and Jerez, and in seeing at Cadiz the procession of Corpus Christi and a bull-fight, distinguished on this occasion by the bull-ring taking fire. At 11.30 on the 17th a start was made for Lisbon. From Cadiz to Cape St. Vincent was a beat to windward, until on the 20th they were becalmed off the Cape. A breeze springing up in the afternoon, Cape Epischol was sighted, and at 9 A.M. on the 22nd a pilot was taken on board for Lisbon, and the 'Hornet' sailed in with a light breeze by the south channel, and let go her anchor between Belem and Lisbon at 2 P.M. The voyage home was destined to prove a much less agreeable experience. Anchor was weighed at 4 P.M. on June 24, wind blowing strong from the north-east, which continued next day with a heavy sea. Standing out to sea some fifty miles, the 'Hornet' was put on the port tack and sighted the Burlings Light at 8.30 P.M., when she was again put about for sea room. On the 26th the ship was under three-reefed mainsail, reefed foresail, staysail, and jib, and on the 27th she was hove to under three-reefed mainsail and reefed foresail to a strong north-east gale. The 28th, still hove to, the gale blowing furiously, with tremendous seas, the mainsail and fore-staysail were taken in, and the ship put under fore-trysail alone. On the 29th the gale appeared to be moderating, but at 8 A.M. it was found that the rudder-head had started, the steering-wheel and gear had to be unshipped, and the tiller shipped, tended constantly by two helmsmen. A jib-headed trysail was set on the mainsail to ease the steering gear. On the 30th the mainsail was again set, and, the stores having been overhauled, everyone was put on rations, which were further reduced next day. The weakness of the rudder-head rendered the most careful steering necessary, which, during the rest of the voyage, threw more work on the experienced hands. On July 3 she was again close hauled to a strong breeze from the north-east, which continued all day, the ship being under three-reefed mainsail and reefed foresail, and so continued through the whole of the 4th; but on the 5th the wind shifted to the north-west and moderated. All available sail was gradually made, and by noon of that day, the position having been verified by observation, under square foresail, topsail, and topmast stun'sails, topgallant-sail, and main topmast skysail, the course was set for home. Next day the wind again shifted, and all hands were called in the morning watch to reduce sail. Their misfortunes had not ended, for on July 8 it was discovered that the fore-masthead was sprung, and the cap and crosstrees damaged. A lashing was, however, put round the heel of the fore-topmast, and the fore-masthead, and all the rigging and gear carefully overhauled and made good where possible. The rations, also, were still further reduced. However, on the 9th, having again got sights, the commander decided to bear up for the Channel, and at 10.30 sighted Ushant. A fair wind then sprang up, and the ship ran along gaily at an average of eight knots. On the 10th, and at 5.45 A.M., the English coast near Plymouth was sighted, the Start at 6.30, Portland at 2 P.M., and the Wight at 7. At 6 A.M. next day the anchor was dropped in Shanklin Bay, but permission to land being refused by the Customs authorities, sail was again set for Ryde, where the 'Hornet' arrived at 7.30 P.M., thus terminating an eventful cruise. Although its unexpected prolongation had been rather trying for some of the ship's company, and their experience had been of a nature to try severely the physique and capacity of amateur sailors, they seem to have gone through it well. Several other yachts, among which may be mentioned the 'Titania,' belonging to the Marquis of Ailsa, the 'Dawn,' to Mr. Klein, and 'Diligent,' to Mr. C. E. Chadwick Healey and Mr. Sydney Hoare, have been manned by Naval Volunteers. It now only remains to add a few considerations on the advantages and disadvantages of Corinthian crews for ocean-going yachts. First, then, as to expense: the owner does not save anything by shipping an amateur crew. It is true he pays no wages to his Corinthian deck hands, but he must be prepared to incur a considerable outlay in alterations to the internal arrangements of the vessel, to buy new bedding and mess traps, and to provide a better class of ship's cooks and a more numerous galley staff. Good temper will not prevail, nor can discipline be easily maintained, unless Corinthian Jack is well fed. If, as is sometimes the case, the amateur crew arrange to cater for themselves, the owner and captain must occasionally add to the luxuries of the lower deck mess. Some expense is also unavoidable from the extra wear and tear arising from the want of skill of novices who have not yet learned to handle sails and gear with a view to their preservation. The safety and comfort of one's ship's company, too, is a double source of anxiety when some or the whole are not seafaring by profession. For it must not be forgotten even in the finest weather that there is no such thing as 'playing at sailors' when at sea. The risk involved is not appreciably increased by manning the vessel with amateurs, if the officer in command will take certain precautions; and this view was endorsed by the insurance companies, who in no instance increased the premium on the 'Hornet.' The owner must insist on shipping a due proportion of old hands in each crew, and take care to train them as helmsmen and leadsmen. He should relieve the 'wheel' and 'look-out' as often as practicable. Above all, he should be careful to shorten sail in good time, and always at dusk, until he can depend upon his crew. Active and courageous as the amateur seaman invariably is, he has not the practice aloft of the professional, he cannot shorten sail so rapidly, nor does his knowledge of the lead of the ropes enable him to identify them so readily in the dark. The services of a good professional boatswain, with an enthusiastic love for his profession and a cheery sympathetic manner as an instructor, are absolutely essential for the proper working of a Corinthian ship. A minute and careful observation of the barometer, and constant verifying of position by reckoning and by observation, are the duties of the officer rather than the crew. Unless the yacht-owner be an enthusiastic navigator, delighting in his sextant and mathematical formulæ as well as a keen sailor-man, he had better not attempt this exacting if fascinating method of sailing his ship. On the other hand, the Corinthian crew is a cheery one, well mannered and enthusiastic, grateful for any instruction which is given them, and happy in an exceptional and delightful holiday. As a Corinthian crew is in general more numerous than one composed of professional sailors, when they have learnt their stations and become accustomed to the work, the vessel may be handled with that old-fashioned man-of-war smartness which is so attractive. In conclusion, the national aquatic instinct, fostered as it is by the healthy sea-breezy tone prevailing in so much of our boyhood's literature, can only be cultivated by the majority of us as Corinthian seamen. Love for shipping and boats is not necessarily love for the sea and seafaring. Those who take to the sea as a profession are not always constant in their love. A voyage in a passenger ship, or even a trip as an honoured guest on board one of the floating batteries of Her Majesty's Navy, quite satisfies the still keen boyish aspiration. It is only as one of the crew of a large yacht on a deep-sea voyage that the amateur can personally experience that 'life at sea' which has so fascinated his imagination. Though I dare not advise all yacht-owners to man their ships with their friends, I should hail with pleasure an opportunity of sailing again with some of my old shipmates. CHAPTER IV THE EVOLUTION OF THE MODERN RACING YACHT BY G. L. WATSON Seven years ago the task of describing the form of racing yachts would have been a much simpler one than it is to-day. Then even the cruising vessels were more or less under the influence of the old tonnage rule, or of its later modification, and big and little were pretty much of a type;--a model of, say, a 'forty,' representing with sufficient accuracy a 'ninety,' or a 'five,' if we supposed the scale changed; and the individual yachts in each class, while presenting differences to the eye of the amateur, were not to be distinguished apart by the general yachting public, except perhaps by the racing flag. Under the present length and sail-area rule, the variety of type is enormous. Broad, narrow, deep, and shallow; boats with centreboards and boats without; single boats and double boats; plain keel, fin keel, and bulb keel, have all their representatives, and each has had its successes. But few of these types could have been successful under the old tonnage rule, and few of them may be successful under rules yet to come. Any history, therefore, of the development of the form of racing yachts would fail did it not take account of, and run parallel to, the history of the tonnage rule of the time. [Illustration: 'BRITANNIA' _R.Y.S. 151-rater. Designed by G. L. Watson, 1893. Winner of R. Victoria Gold Cup, September 1893._] Throughout the modern story of yachting the tonnage question has been the all-absorbing one. Looking back, through the pages of those sporting papers and periodicals which forty years ago devoted a meagre portion of their space to yachting, one is struck by the same feature that shows prominently in the 'Field' or 'Yachtsman' of to-day. For one letter on any other subject, there are a dozen on the measurement question, and the writers handled their pens in much the same energetic way then as now, in abuse of rival theorists; but, more merciful than the moderns, spared us their elaborate formulæ. These controversies happily have served the useful purpose of preserving for the historian of to-day a good many facts which might otherwise have been lost; for our dear old friend 'Hunt's Magazine,' in his flowery youth, is fonder of treating us to an 'Ode to the Yachtsman's Bride,' or a relation of 'How Miss Delany married an Officer,' than to facts regarding measurement, or time allowances, and these are only to be picked up incidentally as it were from the correspondence of the quarrelsome gentlemen aforesaid. It is to be hoped that the yachting historian of the twentieth century may reap a like benefit from our controversialists of to-day, and that those mathematicians who now brandish their tonnage formulæ to the terror of all quietly disposed yachtsmen will find a reader in the searcher after facts of 1950. Yachting, then, may be said to have begun with this century; for although, as is shown elsewhere in these volumes, yachts are mentioned long before that date, it was hardly until the century opened, or indeed until after the Crimean War, that yachting as a sport became fairly established in this country. The yachts of those days were round-headed things, of about three beams in length, in most cases innocent of metal ballast, and kept on their feet by gravel or by iron ore. What little racing there might have been was confined to scratch matches between the owners, and time allowance for tonnage was not thought of, though doubtless the tonnage rule as then used for the merchant shipping of the country was recognised as a useful measure for the purchase and sale of these vessels. Racing became commoner; soon more than two yachts came together to try conclusions, and it was presently discovered by some astute yachtsman that a good big ship, other things being the same, was faster than a good little ship, and therefore, where their purses admitted of it, owners built yachts as large as could be handled. 'Arrow,' 84 tons; 'Lulworth,' 82 tons; 'Alarm,' 193 tons; and 'Louisa,' 180 tons, were the crack cutters on the Solent about forty-five years ago, and, as may be well understood, little boats had a very poor chance with these giants, except perhaps in light and fluky weather. Mr. Holland-Ackers called attention to this fact, and proposed a table of time allowances between large and smaller yachts based on the length of the course and the difference of size between the vessels. The measure of this size was the tonnage, as ascertained by the then tonnage law of the land, which had been in force since 1794, or rather a slight modification of this rule, adapted to the peculiar form of yachts. In this, 'the old 94 rule,' as it was called, only length of keel and breadth were taken into account, the depth being assumed as half the breadth. Breadth was thus penalised twice over in the formula, and perhaps the most extraordinary fact in connection with this rule is, that it was in force for years before it seems to have occurred to our yacht-builders that a success was to be made by increasing those dimensions which were untaxed, or only moderately taxed, and reducing the beam which was taxed twice over. This is all the more remarkable, as builders of the mercantile marine seem to have caught this point much earlier, and were building vessels with enormously increased depth and reduced beam, though it is true the slowness of these ships did not invite imitation, as the American clipper ships, built under a fairer tonnage law, were rapidly sailing them off the seas. Happily, in 1854 the law was changed for the present method of measurement by internal cubic capacity, and the genius of our shipbuilders, thus left unfettered, was equal to the task of regaining our supremacy on the ocean. But among the yachts the old {L - B × B × (1/2 B)}/94 prevailed, and gradually builders discovered that, by increasing draft and amount of ballast, beam could be pared down, and a boat of nominally the same tonnage made longer and to carry more sail than her predecessor. Lead ballast was slowly introduced, despite all sorts of adverse prophecies from old salts that it would strain the ship and would cause her to plunge so heavily as to go under; and presently, when some unknown genius first put lead outside, and from a timid hundredweight or two this increased to tons, the veterans gave the new type up altogether as past praying for, and left them to their well-merited fate. I have been unable to get any definite information as to the first application of outside ballasts, but in 1834 Messrs. Steele built the 'Wave' for Mr. John Cross Buchanan, and on this vessel a metal keel was fixed. There may, however, have been earlier instances of this in the South. But Providence was on the side of the heavy lead keels, and each year yachts got longer, and deeper, and narrower, and had more and more lead outside, until there was none left inside at all, while they more and more nearly approached Euclid's definition of a line as having length but no breadth. _A propos_ of these proportions, a good, and it may possibly be true, story is told of an enthusiastic cutter-man on the other side of the Atlantic, who, intensely prejudiced against the fine broad ships of America, asked a friend here to buy, and have sent across to him, a typical British 5-ton cutter, stipulating only that she should be fast, and at least as narrow as anything of her class. The little craft was safely brought across and put in the water in New York Bay, and after a trial sail the owner invited one or two friends to come off for a day's pleasuring in the new ship, with the object of showing the advantages of five feet of beam against ten. But, on coming alongside, the first to get out of the dinghy took hold of the runner, and taking a nice wide step, so as to get well into the centre of the boat, stepped clean into the water on the other side. But long before the advantage of substituting untaxed depth for the heavily taxed beam was discovered, and about 1850 Mr. Wanhill, of Poole, introduced the raking sternpost, thus getting, on a given length of keel, a much longer water-line. But even this device was used in moderation, 50° to 60° being the utmost rake given, with the sternpost showing at the water-line, and such vessels as our modern cutaway fives, tens, twenties, or forties, with the keel a fourth of their over-all length, were as yet unthought of, though the direct inducement to build them was far stronger then than now. [Illustration: 'Cygnet' cutter, 35 tons. Built by Wanhill, of Poole, in 1846.] [Illustration: Midship section.] I may cite an exception to this, however, in a vessel called the 'Problem,' built at Kirkcaldy about 1850 or 1851, and described in 'Hunt's Magazine' of August 1852. The 'Problem' presented a similar profile to that of our fashionable fives or 2-1/2 of three or four years back, the stem and sternpost sloping down and meeting in a point as in the 'Lily,' 2-1/2-rater; 'Natica,' 5-rater; and 'Varuna,' 40-rater. But the vessel was built without any idea of racing, she having three masts, square-rigged on each mast, and whatever advantages she may have possessed seem to have escaped the notice of the regular yacht-builders. A much likelier idea was struck by 'Vanderdecken,' in a letter to 'Bell's Life' in 1852, where he proposes a 'tonnage cheater,' in which he had got the sternpost pretty nearly amidships, with the profile resembling in an exact degree that of our most modern small craft. But though, if properly designed otherwise, the proposed vessel would have been a certain success, the jump was too big a one for our yacht-builders, and 'Vanderdecken's' idea lay on the shelf for many years. [Illustration: 'VARUNA' _40-rater (Capt. J. Towers-Clarke). Designed by G. L. Watson, 1892._] [Illustration: 'Problem,' 1852.] [Illustration: Deck plan of 'Problem'.] [Illustration: Profile of the 'Varuna,' 1892.] The evasion of length by this method, however, raised a terrible storm of discussion. 'Bell's Life' and 'Hunt's Magazine' were inundated with indignant letters on the subject, until, in 1854, the Royal London Yacht Club, followed by the Royal Thames, arranged to measure the length on deck, subtracting from this length the whole beam, instead of three-fifths of the beam, so as not to dis-class those vessels with excessive rake already built. This rule, under the name of the 'Thames Rule,' became the recognised method of measuring yachts, and, indeed, still remains the standard measurement for rates for buying, selling, and hiring. [Illustration: Vanderdecken's tonnage cheater.] Slowly at first, but steadily, yachts became longer, narrower, and deeper; the crack yacht of one year being displaced the next by something with more length, less beam, and more ballast. Here and there, it is true, an occasional vessel of exceptional excellence held her own for a year or two with the newer ones; but what looked for a little like high water was but the mark of an exceptional wave which in its turn was covered, and the true flood seen to be a bit away yet. To check the growing tendency towards length and depth at the expense of beam, the New Thames Yacht Club, at a meeting on March 12, 1874, adopted the following rule:-- The length shall be the distance from the fore part of the main stem to the after part of the main sternpost measured in a straight line along the deck. The breadth shall be the distance between the outsides of the outside planks or wales, measured where that distance is largest. The depth shall be the distance between the top of the covering board and the bottom of the keel at the middle point of the length. The product of the length, the breadth, and the depth, divided by 200, shall be taken as the tonnage of the yacht. But the influence of this rule was not far-reaching, and confined to the New Thames Club, and (in a slightly modified form) to the Queenstown Model Yacht Club; few yachts were built under it, and these were not conspicuously successful. Nor was the reason of this very far to seek. The tax on depth induced builders to cut down freeboard, and, so far as might be, draft, while to make up for this latter deficiency the amidships draft was carried well forward and aft, and only little rake given to the post, with the result that the few boats built under this rule carried an extremely awkward sail-plan, and were abnormally slow in stays. The great general effect of the 94, or Thames Rule, has been described; but among its minor influences may be mentioned the inducement to have the utmost water-line length on a given deck or measurement length. One obvious manner of attaining this was by keeping the sternpost upright or nearly so; while the writer, in a little cutter called the 'Peg Woffington,' built for himself in 1871, took a farther advantage of the rule by putting a ram bow on her, thus getting the water-line even longer than the measurement on deck. An additional interest attaches to this yacht as being the earliest sailing yacht, so far as I have been able to ascertain, which had all her ballast outside. [Illustration: Dog-legged sternpost.] In 1873 Mr. James Reid, of Port Glasgow, just then beginning to make his mark as a yacht designer, devised what was called the 'dog-legged' sternpost, fitting one in the 10-tonner 'Merle.' This, as will be seen from the sketch, retained all the advantages of a raked sternpost, and yet gave as long a water-line length as the length on deck; but the device had but a short life, as in the spring of 1877 the Yacht Racing Association, which had been formed the previous year, decreed that the length should be measured to the fore side of the rudder stock. This regulation, made so late in the building season, somewhat unjustly threw out three yachts built under the existing rule. Unfortunately, a policy of procrastination seems to have haunted the Yacht Racing Association since its inception, as in most instances where the building rules have been changed, these changes have been decided on so close to the coming season that builders have been unfairly pushed in the designing and getting ready new vessels. I would venture to suggest to that body, and this in the interests of yacht-owners quite as much as of builders, that no rule affecting the construction of racing yachts should be considered after the end of October. [Illustration: Immersed counter of 'Quiraing,' 1877.] In the fall of 1877, in designing 'Quiraing,' and with the same end in view, I got the water-line the same length as the length for measurement by immersing the counter as in the sketch. [Illustration: 'DORA' _10-rater, centreboard (R. G. Allan, Esq.) Designed by G. L. Watson, 1891._] In 1878 the Yacht Racing Association recognised the right of builders to have the same length on load-water-line as that for which they were taxed on deck, and that without forcing them into adopting abnormal shapes, and therefore determined that the length should be measured on the load-water-line. Though it was at once pointed out that this would lead to overhang, so strong was prejudice in favour of the old-fashioned straight stem, that no advantage was taken of this until the advent of the 10-ton 'Buttercup' in 1880, and in her the outreach was extremely moderate. Indeed, it was impossible, with the deep, narrow style of yacht produced by the 94 rule, to use overhang to excess, this device only becoming objectionable when used in combination with a flat, shallow section. 'Buttercup' made a most excellent record; and though this was from causes quite apart from her clipper stem, yet she marks a stage as being the first cutter to reintroduce this adornment. 'Buttercup' was the work of an amateur, Mr. Robert Hewitt, and the following particulars of her may be of interest:-- _'Buttercup,' launched from yard at Barking, September 1880_ L.W.L. 42 ft. 3 in. Extreme beam 7 ft. 4 in. Draught 8 feet Least freeboard 2 ft. 9 in. Displacement 22 tons Lead 14 " Ship and gear 8 " Sail-area 2,580 feet First match, May 9, 1881; sailed 20 starts in 1881, won 15 firsts, 2 seconds; designed, owned, and sailed by Robert Hewitt, Esq., R.T.Y.C, now commodore. I may mention that the first design for the 90-ton 'Vanduara' was drawn with a clipper or out-reaching stem; but I had not the heart to disfigure the boat (as I then considered I should be doing) by building her in this fashion. The rising generation of yachtsmen, however, is entirely reconciled to the clipper bow on a cutter-rigged yacht, and may eventually (though this seems improbable) look with complacency on such cutwaters as 'Dora's' or 'Britannia's.' About this date--1875--builders were becoming more and more impressed with the value of a low centre of gravity got by outside lead, which, in combination with increased displacement, allowed of beam being reduced and length added almost indefinitely. Indeed, Mr. Dixon Kemp, probably the best authority on the subject in this country, declared somewhat later that there was no limit to this process of drawing out; and though I never could quite agree with him on that point, the beginning of the end was approaching, and yachts, more especially in the smaller classes, were getting most uncomfortably narrow. The older men, however, were naturally timid about the introduction of external ballast, and it was left to 'the boys,' with the happy audacity and confidence of youth, to design 100-tonners with 70-ton keels, which, perhaps fortunately, did not get beyond the length of paper. But fives, tens, and twenties were built with nearly all their lead outside, and did not from that fact tear themselves asunder. Mr. James Reid, of Port Glasgow, designer of the beautiful 10-tonner 'Florence' and many other fast boats, closely followed by Mr. John Inglis, of Pointhouse, and later by the writer, put all or nearly all of the ballast outside, and the practice in a few years became general. [Illustration: 'Britannia,' 1893. 'Thistle,' 1887. Sketch of cutwaters.] Length and displacement went merrily on, as will be seen from the following tables and diagrams:-- _Elements of 5-Tonners (94 and 1730 Rules)_ +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Description | Diamond | Vril | Trident| Olga | Doris | Oona +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Length on | 25 ft. | 28 ft. | 32 ft. | 33 ft. | 33 ft. | 34 ft. load-line | 3 in. | 4 in. | | | 8 in. | +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Breadth | 7 ft. | 6 ft. | 6 ft. | 5 ft. | 5 ft. | 5 ft. Extreme |2-1/4 in.| 7 in. | |8-3/4 in.| 7 in. | 6 in. +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Draught of | 4 ft. | 5 ft. | 6 ft. | 6 ft. | 7 ft. | 8 ft. water extreme| 6 in. | 2 in. | 3 in. | 4 in. | | +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Displacement |4.92 tons|7.18 tons|8.9 tons|10.4 tons|12.55 tons|12.5 tons +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Total | 671 | 830 | 912 | 985 | 1,116 | area of | sq. ft. | sq. ft. | sq. ft.| sq. ft. | | lower sail | | | | | | +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Designer | W. Baden| G. L. | W. E. | W. E. | G. L. | W. E. | Powell | Watson | Paton | Paton | Watson | Paton +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ Date when | 1873 | 1876 | 1879 | 1883 | 1885 | 1886 built | | | | | | +---------------+---------+---------+--------+---------+----------+--------+ [Illustration: Chart.] [Illustration: Profiles of 5-tonners.] [Illustration: Sections showing decrease of breadth and increase of depth in 5-tonners--under 94 and 1730 Rules.] In the autumn of 1881 it was thought a check might be put on this development by adopting a rule somewhat easier on beam than the existing 94 one, and in 1882 it was determined that the tonnage should be reckoned in accordance with the formula:-- ((L + B){2} × B) / 1730 [Illustration: Diagram of variation under different rules.] The incidence of this rule is clearly enough shown by the diagram, where the possible dimensions for a 10-, 20-, 30-, and 40-tonner are plotted under both rules; the two curves crossing at a point where the vessel is about 5-1/4 beams in length. Below this point the new rule was easier on beam, and above it more severe; and it was thought that the extra beam admissible below the five-beam point would have induced builders to avail themselves of this quality; but beam, as we learn by the light of later years, was then altogether undervalued, and length was taken at any price, with the result that the adoption of extreme proportions was hastened rather than averted, till in 1886 a radical change in the rule was demanded, and in the autumn of that year a Committee of the Yacht Racing Association, after taking most exhaustive evidence from the various experts, decided on the adoption of a rule proposed by Mr. Dixon Kemp, based solely on length (which was measured on the load-water-line) and on sail-area. In this rule, breadth, so sorely taxed by the 94 rule, was left absolutely unfettered; depth as heretofore being also untaxed, so that infinite scope was left for experiment in the way of beam. Simultaneously with this change, the use of the centreboard was permitted; and, as the pessimists declared, the road made clear for all manner of skimming dishes and consequent caprices. I ventured to point out at the time the possible dangers of unlimited beam, and proposed that the rule should be ((L +B) × sail-area) / constant; but this limitation was held to be unnecessary, as, indeed, it appeared to be for a year or two. With the exception of the 'Thistle,' built immediately on the passing of the rule, and built probably more with a view to American racing than performance in home waters, builders were somewhat chary of availing themselves of the advantages of beam, and, in the larger classes at least, successive yachts, though getting broader, only 'slowly broadened down from precedent to precedent.' To Mr. Alfred Payne, of Southampton, is due the credit of showing what could be done with large beam and moderate displacement. In 1889 he built the 'Humming Bird,' 2-1/2-rater, for Captain Hughes; this boat was 26 feet on water-line, 7.5 feet beam--that is, 3.46 beams in length--and was extremely successful against other and narrower boats, notably 'Thief' and 'Queen Mab', of like rating and designed by the writer. _Elements of 40-Raters (Length and Sail Area Rule)_ +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ | | | | | |Centreboard| | Description | Mohawk |Deerhound|Creole| Thalia|Varuna| cutter-- | Lais |Vendetta | | | | | | Queen Mab | | +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ Length on } 61.23 | 58.85 |59 ft.| 59.14 |59 ft.| 59 ft. |59.92 | 59.96 load line } ft. | ft. | 6 in.| ft. | | 8 in. | ft. | ft. +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ Breadth | 14.5 | 13 ft. |13 ft.| 13.9 |14 ft.| 16 ft. | | 17.05 extreme | ft. | 5 in. | 2-1/4| ft. | 7 in.| 4 in. |17 ft.| ft. | | | in. | | | | | +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ Draught of } 9.5 | 11 ft. |12 ft.| 12 ft.|13 ft.| 10 ft. | | water } ft. |6-1/2 in.| | 6 in.| 4 in.| 9 in. | -- | -- extreme | | | | | | | | +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ Displacement| 58.8 | 58 tons | 58 | 57 | 55 | 54.8 | -- | -- | tons | | tons | tons | tons | tons | | +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ Designer { C. P. | G. L. |G. L. |W. Fife|G. L. | G. L. |W. Fife| A. E. { Clayton| Watson |Watson| jun. |Watson| Watson | jun. | Payne +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ Date when | 1888 | 1889 | 1890 | 1891 | 1892 | 1892 | 1893 | 1893 built | | | | | | | | +------------+--------+---------+------+-------+------+-----------+------+--------+ In 1890 'Iverna' was built, of practically the same length as, and of less beam than, 'Thistle,' and no great advance was made until the present year (1893) in the adoption of beam in the larger classes; but the progress in this direction may be easily traced in the 'forty' and 'twenty' rating classes, where the growth of beam and decline in displacement are very well marked, as the table and diagram show. [Illustration: Diagram showing variation of dimensions, &c., with years. 40-raters. L. and S.A. Rule.] [Illustration: Profiles of 40-raters.] 1893 will be remembered as having produced four notable boats on this side of the Atlantic, and five in America; and in all nine due prominence is certainly given to beam, if, indeed, more breadth has not been taken, in some of these at least, than can be advantageously used. The dimensions of these boats, so far as they have been obtainable, will be of interest. [Illustration: 'Deerhound,' 1889 'Thalia,' 1891 'Varuna,' 1892 'Queen Mab,' 1892, C.B. Midship sections of 40-raters.] How far under the present rating rule beam may yet be increased with advantage to speed is still matter for debate and experiment. Personally I am inclined to think we have pretty nearly approached the limit. But of this much I am confident, that we have long ago exceeded the limit where beam improves a yacht as a comfortable sea-going craft, and that we should have a much more wholesome and useful vessel for all purposes, except possibly for international racing, with somewhat less beam and somewhat more displacement. The diagram given _ante_ may serve to give the reader an idea of the influence that the various tonnage or rating rules have had on the proportions and form of yachts. _British Yachts, 1893_ +-----------+------+-------+-----------+--------+-----+------+ | |Length|Breadth| Y.R.A. |Length | |Y.R.A.| | Name | on | ext. | sail |over all|Draft|rating| | |L.W.L.| | area | | | | +-----------+------+-------+-----------+--------+-----+------+ | | feet | feet |square feet| feet | feet| | |Satanita | 97.7 | 24.7 | 9,923 | 131.0 | 16.5|161.58| |Britannia | 87.8 | 23.66 | 10,328 | 121.5 | 15.0|151.13| |Valkyrie | 86.8 | 22.33 | 10,271 | 117.25 | 16.3|148.58| |Calluna | 82.0 | 24.3 | 10,305 | -- | 15.0|140.83| +-----------+------+-------+-----------+--------+-----+------+ _American Yachts, 1893_ +------------------+------+-------+-----------+--------+-----+------+ | |Length|Breadth| Y.R.A. |Length | |Y.R.A.| | Name | on | ext. | sail |over all|Draft|rating| | |L.W.L.| | area | | | | +------------------+------+-------+-----------+--------+-----+------+ | | feet | feet |square feet| feet | feet| | |Navahoe, C.B. | 86.93| 23.0 | 10,815 | 128 | 13 | 156.7| |Vigilant, C.B. | 86.19| 26.25 | 12,330 | 124 | 14.0| 178 | |Colonia, K. | 85.00| 24.00 | -- | 124 | 14.0| -- | |Jubilee, C.B. and } 84.00| 22.5 | -- | 123 | 16.0| -- | | Fin } | | | | | | |Pilgrim, K. | 85.00| 23.0 | -- | 122 | 22.0| -- | +------------------+------+-------+-----------+--------+-----+------+ But an entirely false impression has been conveyed should it be understood that the only advance made in yacht designing was due to more or less ingenious methods of evading the existing measurement rule; and it will be sufficient if the fact has been impressed, that a designer is as unlikely to make a successful vessel if he ignores the measurement under which the yacht is to race as by failing to recognise those laws of nature which govern the stability of bodies in water and their resistance in passing through it. What has to be done by the yacht designer, besides getting the very utmost out of the tonnage rule, has never been more happily put than by Lord Dunraven in an article on International Yachting, from which I venture to quote:-- How most successfully to drive a body through the water by the means of the motive power of the wind acting upon the sails, is the question that puzzles men and turns them grey-headed before Nature should have thinned or whitened their locks. The designer has not merely to discover the form of solid body which, at various rates of speed, will excite the smallest degree of resistance in passing through the water, for the body is not solid, it is hollow. It must have buoyancy, and suitable accommodation for all the living and dead freight on board. It must possess stability, real and acquired; that is, natural by means of breadth, and artificial by means of ballast, if the expressions are allowable. It does not proceed on a level keel or at any uniform angle, but at angles varying at every moment, and the contour of the body must be adapted to these various angles. Neither does the wind exert its force upon it from a fixed direction, nor propel it through water uniformly smooth or constantly rough. On the contrary, the propelling power strikes from various angles on the surface of the sails; and the sea, as we all know--and some of us to our cost--has a reprehensible habit of becoming, on the shortest notice, agitated in the most disagreeable manner. Every point of sailing suggests an appropriate and different form of hull. The shape that is well adapted for one kind of weather is ill adapted for another sort; vessels that move as by magic in light airs may be of little use in a whole sail breeze; one that is by no means a flier in smooth water may be very hard to beat in a sea-way. In short, a vessel must be light enough to be driven easily by a moderate breeze, stiff enough to stand up to her canvas in a hard wind, shallow enough to be docked with ease and to run with speed. She must have depth enough to hold her up to windward, breadth enough to give her stability; she should be long enough to reach well, and short enough to turn well to windward; low in the water so as not to hold too much wind, with plenty of freeboard to keep the sea off her decks. The satisfaction of any one requirement necessitates something antagonistic to some other requirement equally clamorous for satisfaction. Your vessel, to be perfect, must be light, of small displacement, and with the centre of gravity brought very low; she must also have large displacement, and the ballast must not be too low, in order that she may be easy in a sea-way; she must be broad, narrow, long, short, deep, shallow, tender, stiff. She must be self-contradictory in every part. A sailing ship is a bundle of compromises, and the cleverest constructor is he who, out of a mass of hostile parts, succeeds in creating the most harmonious whole. It is not strange that designers pass sleepless nights, and that anything like finality and perfection of type is impossible to conceive. No wonder that yacht designing is a pursuit of absorbing interest. It has been shown, then, how from the three beam yachts of fifty years ago, the proportions drew out, under the 94 rule, to five, five and a half, and in some instances six beams in length, the 'Evolution' reaching even 7.8 beams; and even more rapidly, under the length and sail-area rule, fell back to something like three again. But the proportions are about all that remain in common to the clippers of 1845 and 1893 and it will be interesting now to trace how form, mode of construction and equipment have developed, as well as proportions. Prior to 1820, what yachts there were afloat seem to have presented but little individuality of form, and showed, in common with the faster smugglers and fishing vessels of the day, a round barrel-like bottom, full round bow and fairly clean run, the buttock lines and after riband lines being generally fair and easy. These yachts were, one and all, built of timber, were ballasted with stones or gravel, the more advanced possibly with ore, while the sails and equipment were of a piece with the hull, the main rigging being of hemp, and no attempt being made after flatness in the sails. The original 'Arrow,' of 84 tons, built somewhere about 1823 by Mr. Joseph Weld, seems to have been a fairly representative craft of that time, and raced with considerable success, even against much larger vessels than herself. This original 'Arrow' was 61 ft. 9-1/2 in. long by 18 ft. 5-1/4 in. beam, with a depth of hold of 8 ft. 8 in.--that is, she had a proportion of length to breadth of 3.35--not very much differing in proportion from our present cutters of 1893: 'Calluna,' the 40-raters 'Lais' and 'Vendetta,' being about 3.4 and 3.5 beams to length, and the American 'Vigilant' about 3.32. [Illustration: Midship section. 'Leopard.' Built by Linn Ratsey, Cowes, Isle of Wight, 1807. These lines are accurately reproduced from the original by his grandson, Michael E. Ratsey.] 'Arrow' had the usual round barrel-like bottom, and, so far as can be learned, a round, short bow, the run being fair and easy, the small midship section lending itself pleasantly to this. [Illustration: 'ARROW' CUTTER _Midship Section_ _113 tons. Length on L.W.L., 79' 2"; beam extreme, 18' 9"; draught extreme, 11' 6"._ [The original 'ARROW,' 84 tons, was built by Mr Joseph Weld about 1823. In 1846 she was bought by Mr. Thomas Chamberlayne and rebuilt; but it was not until 1852 that her bow was lengthened and she appeared as shown above.]] Racing with the 'Arrow,' but without any very conspicuous success, was the cutter 'Menai,' designed by that famous sportsman, Mr. T. Assheton-Smith, and memorable from being the first vessel in which hollow lines were adopted. But little notice seems to have been taken of this very radical alteration in form, and although Scott Russell in 1840 elaborated a system of construction, based on hollow lines, and the famous 'Mosquito,' built in 1848, and 'Tiara,' built by Simons of Renfrew in 1850, all showed this feature strongly, it was not till the 'America' schooner appeared in 1851 that the old round bow was utterly condemned, and everyone went more or less crazy on the long hollow bow. Meanwhile the original old 'Arrow' was being sailed with fair success against craft much larger than herself, until in 1827 she was laid aside by her owner in favour of the first 'Lulworth,' of 130 tons, known for little else than that she was of the same name as the famous 'Lulworth' of 80 tons, also built by Mr. Weld in 1857. Meantime, Mr. Weld built the famous 'Alarm' of 193 tons in 1834, and for a long time this enormous cutter was Queen of the Solent. But the old 'Arrow' was to begin a second career. Bought in 1846 from a dealer by Mr. Thomas Chamberlayne for a few pounds, that gentleman had her replanked and some alterations made in the bow and run, indeed not very much more than the amidship frame seems to have been preserved. Anyway the resuscitated vessel appeared again in 1847, recommencing a career which has certainly been an extraordinary one. In 1848 'Mosquito' was built and fairly tackled the older ship, but the 'Arrow' was not yet the boat she now is, or as represented in the plate, as it was not till 1852, and until after the advent of the 'America,' that she appeared with her present long, hollow bow, having been pulled out some 17 feet in the winter of 1851, as indeed was pretty well everything else that aspired to be in the fashion. As is often the case, the pendulum swung too far the other way; bows were built on old boats, and new boats were designed with fore bodies, altogether out-Heroding Herod; and the 'America's' graceful, well-proportioned and moderately hollow bow was caricatured in some instances to a ridiculous extent. The 'America' showed also a decided departure in form of midship section, the bottom being much straighter than in our British-built craft, and the bilge higher and quicker--altogether a fine form for stability. The run, though somewhat short, was very fair, the buttock lines especially (as will be seen by the plate given in the second volume) showing beautifully easy curves. But the lesson hinted at by 'Menai,' reiterated by 'Mosquito' and 'Tiara,' insisted upon by Scott Russell, but only brought home to us by the American schooner, was not the only one to be gleaned from that graceful vessel. Previous to her advent, our British-made sails were most baggy productions, kept decently flat only by drenching the luffs with water, a process called 'skeating.' This defect could not altogether be laid at the door of our sailmakers, as they did fairly well, considering the material they had to work with; but flax canvas at that date was still made by hand and was little firmer in texture, if indeed as firm, as the unbleached merchant canvas of the present day. The 'America's' sails were of machine-spun cotton, and, farther, were laced to the booms as well as the gaffs and masts, the staysail also being laced to a boom. These flat sails certainly suited the easy form of the 'America'; but here again the reaction was too strong, and it is undoubtedly the fact that for some years afterwards sails were got too flat, at least, for many of the full-bodied boats that they were put over, and the want of flow of the older-fashioned loose-footed sails was sadly missed when there came to be any work off the wind. For some years then after 1851 (the year of 'America's' _début_ here), sails were probably flat enough for the forms they had to drive; and American sailmakers apparently arrived at this conclusion, as they first of all gave up lacing the head sails, and later cut those rounder and rounder, until now American head-sails are cut much fuller than our own, and their mainsails also somewhat fuller. But while the 'America' was undoubtedly the great epoch-making vessel in yacht designing, the cutter 'Mosquito' possessed quite as many original features, and had she only come from abroad instead of being a home production, would have made a far greater stir than the schooner. [Illustration: 'Mosquito,' 50 tons, 1848.] The 'Mosquito' was turned out by the Thames Iron Works Shipbuilding Company. She was designed by that great original genius, Tom Waterman, who had already produced many successful merchant steamers and sailing ships: notably the steamer 'Himalaya,' built originally for the Peninsular and Oriental Company, but afterwards sold to Her Majesty's Government for a troopship, and still a gem of the ocean and mother of the troopers. [Illustration: Midship section.] The 'Mosquito,' besides presenting novelties in form, in the way of an easy and hollow bow, large displacement, well-raked post and deep heel, also upset all preconceived notions of what was yacht fashion, by being built of iron. Great was the discussion over this departure; but, among many prophets of evil, a writer in 'Hunt's Magazine,' in 1854, discussing wood _versus_ iron, predicts that 'the "Mosquito" is likely to be well and hearty when the present wooden craft have gone to that "bourne from which no traveller returns."' This prediction has been exactly fulfilled, as 'Mosquito,' after as long and brilliant a career as has fallen to any yacht, is now, or was a few years ago, doing good work as a pilot boat off Barrow-in-Furness. In 1852, Mr. William Fife, of Fairlie, in Ayrshire, who, with his father before him, had for some years been turning out fast and weatherly boats, produced 'Cymba,' a notable cutter. His father had made Scotch-built yachts, well known by his 'Gleam,' built in 1832, though only fitted out for racing by Sir Robert Gore Booth in 1837; but 'Cymba' was a marked improvement on this model, having a far longer and easier bow, larger displacement, considerable rake of post, and great drag aft. The dimensions of 'Cymba' are appended, and it will be seen that she was just under four beams in length. _'Cymba', built 1852, by Fife_ Length of keel 52 feet Length between perpendiculars 59 " Breadth, extreme 15.3 " Draft aft 10 " Forward 5.6 " Mast from stem 23 " Length of mast 56 " Boom 53 " Bowsprit 32 " Lead outside 3 tons Lead in all 23 to 24 tons Meanwhile in matters of equipment steady progress was being made. Wire rope was rapidly ousting hemp for all standing rigging. Sailmaking, in the hands of Messrs. Lapthorn and of Charles Ratsey, was rapidly becoming a science. Machine-spun and woven flax canvas was in universal use, even cotton canvas was fitfully tried, and from the first strongly upheld by Charles Ratsey, of Cowes; but prejudice was too strong as yet for this material, and flax held the day for many a year to come. It is gratifying that Mr. Ratsey should have lived to see his favourite material triumphant, and to have looked, as he might have done in 1893, at the finest fleet of racing yachts the world has seen, clothed, from the Prince of Wales's majestic 'Britannia' to the tiny half-rater, entirely with cotton. [Illustration: 'LETHE' _163 tons, showing lead keel and construction. Designed by G. L. Watson. Built by Fay & Co., 1889._] A considerable factor in modifying form was the gradual abolition of shifting ballast; this, though not yet actually illegal, was being more and more looked upon with disfavour, and as the use of outside lead increased, it was found that depth was a more than sufficient substitute for weather ballast, especially as beam was being squeezed down by the tonnage rule, and a long lever in this direction rendered impossible. Timber was still the favourite material for building ('Mosquito,' 'Torpid,' and one or two others being the sole exceptions to this rule); but about 1860 a new system of construction was tried in which an iron framework was combined with a wooden skin or planking. This system came rapidly into vogue on the Clyde, and was adopted by several firms there in the building of those beautiful creations, the China clipper ships. The annual race home with the season's teas was the subject of discussion in the great Clyde shipyards, and I can well remember the highest ambition of every spirited lad in the drawing office was to live to design a China clipper. The Suez Canal closed for ever this avenue to fame. Among the most successful builders of these ships were Messrs. Robert Steele & Co., of Greenock, who had, so early as 1807, built yachts for the Excise and for various Scotch owners. Mr. William Steele of that firm being an able designer of yachts as well as of ships, it was natural that this method of construction should be adopted by him in the building of 'Nyanza,' 'Oimara,' 'Garrion,' and the majestic 'Selene,' to-day one of the handsomest schooners afloat; while many of that firm's large steam yachts, notably the 'Wanderer,' 850 tons, the finest auxiliary yacht of her day, were built on this plan. Dan Hatcher of Southampton carried out this system in building several vessels, commencing with a schooner, the 'Bella Donna,' of 119 tons, in 1867; 'Seabird,' 126 tons, 1868; 'Lizzie,' of 20 tons, 1868; then, in one of his finest craft, 'Muriel,' which he built for Mr. Bridson in 1869; and in the famous 'Norman' he also adopted this construction. But, owing to the steel frame being considerably more expensive than timber, the composite build has never become popular until within the last few years, when the naturally weak shape of the modern yacht, the fact of all the lead being outside, and her enormous stability, have so increased the racking strains on the structure, that a merely wooden frame cannot be got to hold together without making the weight of the hull altogether prohibitive; and the composite racing yacht, for everything except very small vessels, seems likely to push all the others from the field. As illustrating this method of construction, a midship section is given of 'Lethe,' 163-ton yawl, and one of the finest of our cruising yachts. The photograph shows the lead keel, the heaviest ever cast, and also the method of securing the same to the bottom of the ship. Since 'Mosquito' astonished the yachting world in 1848, until to-day when 'Navahoe' and other American racing yachts have been constructed of metal, iron and steel yachts have been more or less successful; but the difficulty of keeping a smooth and perfectly clean bottom is a considerable source of expense and worry, although the immense strength of the steel shell, and in a large yacht its lightness, will always be a set-off to the trouble of the uncoppered bottom. [Illustration: 'Lethe,' 163 tons. Built for S. C. Watson, Esq.--Midship section.] In a lecture on 'Progress in Yachting and Yacht-building,' which I delivered early in 1881, in a fanciful specification of the yacht for the season 2000, I required that the plating below water should be of manganese bronze. Curiously enough, a few years later saw an attempt to combine the strength of steel and the smoothness, anti-fouling, and non-corrosive properties of copper, in the building of a torpedo-boat of this material; while this year the chosen defender of the America Cup has been plated with a similar bronze on a steel frame, the builders claiming, and not without reason, that the additional smoothness of bottom gives her an advantage of five to seven minutes on a forty-mile course. But such a practice seems hardly likely to become general for ordinary racing yachts built for men with a normal depth of pocket, and whilst, as in the old Mississippi steamboat days, it sometimes paid to burn hams, most of us have to try and get along with good coal. I was going to build the topsides, frames, and beams of my ideal vessel of aluminium, and the other day a small yacht has been built, on the Continent, of this lightest of metals; but the present cost of this material, and, as yet, its unreliability, place it, for the present at least, outside the range of practical material for yacht-building. There seems more hope for some of the very beautiful and immensely strong alloys of aluminium, but they too are expensive, and also heavy. It may be some years before the complete realisation of my design is accomplished, and platinum is substituted for lead as ballast, though when syndicates of millionaires start yacht-building there seems very little limit to extravagance in construction. In nickel-steel there is promise of a very perfect material. This is an alloy of the ordinary Siemens-Martin steel with nickel, and called by the makers Yolla metal. It can be made to comply with all the ordinary tests applied to ship steel, in the way of ductility under stress, and at the same time have a breaking strength of 40 tons to the square inch as against 27 for ordinary steel. This metal was used by Mr. Fife in 1893 for the frames and beams of the 20-rater 'Dragon' (third), and although the few pounds of weight saved by no means accounted for the phenomenal success of this little ship, yet the gain was all in the right direction. Wire standing rigging continued to improve in quality, and very rapidly pushed out the old hemp rigging. From being made at first of good charcoal iron wire, it is now manufactured of the very highest class of steel, of such perfect character that the breaking strength of each wire is equal to 130 tons per square inch. Used at first for standing rigging only, flexible wire rope takes the place of Manilla or hemp for the runners, and runner tackles, topping lifts, bobstay falls, outhauls, topsail and jib-topsail halliards, and latterly even for throat and peak halliards. Other details were also perfected. Instead of the heavy and clumsy windlass, neat and light capstans are arranged of cast steel and gun metal, made so that the whole thing can be lifted away and stowed below while racing. Right- and left-handed screws have superseded the old dead-eyes and lanyards, although these held their own desperately for many years. Introduced first in the 10-tonner 'Verve,' in 1877, the chain-plates were torn up in an extra heavy squall; but this occurred from the great stability of the boat and the fastening having been insufficient; the rigging screws, however, were blamed for all the trouble, and were laid aside for ten years or thereabouts, until re-introduced in the 5-tonner 'Doris.' Now no racing boat is without them. Attention was also given to the lightening of deck fittings, skylights, companions, and the like, these in the racing vessels being kept lower and flatter, and the scantling reduced perhaps rather farther than advisable, as one certainly thinks on getting a stream of water down the neck from a leaky skylight. Bulwarks have been reduced so as to save weight and windage, until in the smaller yachts they have become a mere ledge or foothold, whilst even in the largest class the rail is less than a foot from the deck. Below, fittings have been lightened correspondingly. Cedar, yellow pine, and cretonnes or tapestries stretched on frames or light panels, take the place of the good solid oak and mahogany framing of the years gone by. Indeed, in some of the classes under 40-rating, cabin fittings have been dispensed with altogether; although this is not altogether a novelty, as the Marquis of Ailsa, in 'Bloodhound' (built 1874), and 'Sleuthhound' (built 1881), had at first no fittings beyond a seat along each side. 'Thistle' in 1887 was similarly arranged, nor had 'Valkyrie' or 'Vigilant' much more inside than a coat of paint when racing for the America Cup; but these last are of course special cases, where everything was sacrificed so that the uttermost second of speed should be taken out of the yachts. In cruising yachts the cabins are infinitely more elegant and comfortable now than formerly. The good old birdseye maple panelling with rosewood mouldings and gilded 'egg and dart' cornice has given place to tasteful cabinet-work designed in many cases by high-class artists. The main cabin of the 'Lethe,' designed by Mr. T. L. Watson, F.R.I.B.A., is a good example of this, and the 'Thistle,' now called 'Meteor,' the property of the German Emperor, has since been very beautifully fitted up from designs by the same gentleman, the photographs reproduced here giving but an indication of the elegance and richness of the interior. [Illustration: Profile of 'Valkyrie.' Designed by G. L. Watson.] [Illustration: Profile of 'Vigilant.' Designed by N. Herreshoff.] One of the happiest combinations of lightness of structure with taste and comfort is in the Prince of Wales's 'Britannia.' The fittings throughout are of polished yellow pine and mahogany, with tapestries and cretonnes above the polished wood dado, the effect being extremely bright, cosy, and unostentatious. [Illustration: SALOON OF 'THISTLE' (NOW 'METEOR').] To return to the story of the evolution of the modern racing yacht, no striking change in form was made for some little time after 'America's' advent, beyond, of course, the steady lengthening and deepening of the model. Dan Hatcher, with the 'Glance' in 1855, entered on the wonderful series of successes which culminated perhaps in 'Norman,' 1872. These were all reasonably long boats with nice bows, fine after ends, and of big mid-area and displacement, but beautifully fair and easy all over, and showing a slight but not inordinate hollow forward. In 1866 Mr. Fife, of Fairlie, built the 'Fiona,' and though Clyde builders had already turned out successful yachts, it was 'Fiona' that put the fame of Scotch builders on a solid footing. This beautiful vessel was a cutter of 80 tons, of great length in proportion to beam (73 ft. 6 in. × 15 ft. 9 in.) and of large displacement for those days (108 tons); but she had singularly long, fair and easy lines, and, sailed in a masterly manner by John Houston, of Largs, more than held her own with the Solent-built craft. However, beyond being exceptionally fair and easy, 'Fiona' presented no striking novelty in form, nor did the big cutters 'Kriemhilda,' 'Vol-au-Vent,' or 'Formosa,' built by M. Ratsey, of Cowes, in 1872, 1875, and 1878 respectively, and it is an outsider and amateur yacht-builder that we have to thank for the daring departure in form that was made in 'Jullanar.' [Illustration: Cutter yacht 'Britannia'--general arrangement plan.] Prior to 1870 but little was known of the laws governing the resistance to bodies moving through water. It is true that eighty years before this, towards the close of last century, Colonel Beaufoy had made an elaborate series of experiments in towing bodies through water, beginning first in one of the tanks of his father's brewhouse. These were elaborated in the Greenland Dock near London, and included the determination of the resistance of all manner of shapes, except unhappily shipshape ones, the nearest approach to these being double wedges, and double wedges with a straight amidship piece inserted. But while Colonel Beaufoy also made experiments for the determination of the value of surface friction on planes pulled through the water, no great importance seems to have been attached to these by shipbuilders in general, and the subject of surface friction was more or less lost sight of by them until again brought forward by Maquorn Rankine, first in a series of papers in the 'Mechanic's Magazine,' and more elaborately in his 'Shipbuilding, Theoretical and Practical,' published in 1866. In this Rankine, basing his deductions on Weisbach's experiments on the flow of water through pipes, concluded on mathematical principles that the entire resistance at moderate speeds of a fair and easy formed vessel was due to surface friction--i.e. the rubbing of the water against the sides and bottom of the ship. Rankine showed also that at higher speeds the forming of waves was a material and ever-increasing element in the resistance. It is fully twenty years ago that the late Mr. William Froude began to give to the world the results of his experiments on the resistance of planes of different lengths, coated with various substances and towed at varying speeds through the water. These experiments were conducted under the most favourable conditions, and with the nicest regard for accuracy, and practically confirmed Maquorn Rankine's deductions, although it was found that Rankine had somewhat overestimated the value attachable to surface friction, and had also overestimated the increase in frictional resistance, due to increased speed. Still the great fact remained that practically the entire resistance to a fairly formed body, moving through water at moderate speeds, is due to friction and to friction alone. Rankine's reasoning, early in the sixties, had been too subtle for those fathers of shipbuilding at that date engaged in the art. Able, honest, practical men, most of them could have handled an adze, or maul, with the best of their workmen, and were more at home fairing a sheering batten, or directing a launch, than in analysing speed curves, or investigating strength calculations. But one or two of the younger and brighter minds in the profession, more especially those who had the advantage of Rankine's direct tuition, felt that the old beliefs as to resistance presented such anomalous and unreconcilable results that they could not be founded on any true law of nature. John Inglis, jun., then a mere boy, instituted in Pointhouse Shipyard Rankine's method of estimating the resistance of ships, and for many years was alone in this mode of investigation. [Illustration: Resistance curves Model of S.S. 'Merkara.' SPEED IN FEET PER MINUTE RESISTANCE IN LBS.] But with Froude's experiments all doubt on the matter vanished. It was no longer a question of 'condemned mathematics.' Froude had the happy knack of writing so that the proverbial schoolboy could understand him; and the schoolboy could see the value of resistance to motion through water weighed out as simply and accurately as a pound of currant bun. These experiments for the determination of the frictional resistance of water, published in 1874, were supplemented presently by experiments on models of actual ships, and also by towing a full-size ship, the 'Greyhound,' her resistance at various speeds being recorded by means of a dynamometer on board the 'Active,' the vessel towing her. The results of the experiments on model and ship were set out in a curve, when it was found, after the necessary corrections were made, that both curves were of precisely similar character. A basis of comparison between model and ship was thus established, the measure of this being set forth in what is known as Froude's law of comparison, which may thus be stated. The equivalent speed of a ship and the model it represents will vary as the square root of their lengths. Thus, in the case of a ship 100 feet long represented by a model 4 feet long, the equivalent speed of the ship would be five times that of the model, and at these equivalent speeds would present similar phenomena connected with resistance as the model does. This fact enormously increased the knowledge of investigators, and it was belief in it that gave the writer absolute confidence in carrying out the design of the 'Vanduara,' though he possessed experience in small boats only. Mr. Froude also split up the several elements of resistance to motion through the water into their component parts, assigning a value to each, and showing what was due to surface friction and eddy-making, and what to wave-making. Scott Russell had already argued for a given length of fore and after body for any given speed, and this was recognised by yacht-builders to some extent by their gradually lengthening out their vessels; but the disadvantages as well as the advantages of length could only be thoroughly realised on investigating Froude's experiments. An example is given of such an experiment in the diagram, which shows the resistance curve of a model of the 'Merkara,' built by Messrs. Denny Bros., at Dumbarton, where the several resistances are shown, each in its place. In this diagram the resistance due to surface friction is indicated by the dotted line, and the total resistance by the full line. Up to a speed of 250 feet per minute (for the model) the resistance is almost entirely due to skin friction, but after that the wave-making becomes more and more serious until at 370 feet per minute the wave-making takes more power than the surface friction. While surface friction thus plays a very large part in the resistance of all vessels, and more especially in that of ocean-going steamers and ships, which from their large dimensions seldom attain serious wave-making speeds, yet undue importance may be placed upon friction, and, in the smaller yachts, especially, surface may be inordinately cut away. A notable example of this was the 'Thistle,' built in 1889 to compete for the America Cup; here the surface was so cut down that sufficient lateral plane was not left to hold her to windward, and although she sailed the water as fast as the American champion, the 'Volunteer,' she drifted bodily to leeward. A short history of Mr. Froude's discoveries in resistance was advisable before touching on 'Jullanar,' as this wonderful vessel, whether the result of intuition or of early and immediate appreciation of Froude's investigations, was a remarkable example of the modern theories regarding naval architecture. The same year that 'Jullanar' was built, I designed my first racing yacht, the 5-ton 'Clotilde,' but whilst I had the advantage, through my friend Mr. John Inglis, jun., of specially early access to Professor Froude's investigations, I cut her away in a somewhat timid fashion, though sufficient for her at that time to be compared to a 'cart-wheel,' with the accompanying prediction that she might 'run on land, but would never sail in salt water.' Meanwhile, with splendid audacity, and with no timid reverence for precedent, Mr. Bentall built the 'Jullanar.' An Essex plough and agricultural implement maker, Mr. E. H. Bentall had but little training in naval architecture, but from boyhood had been fond of yachting and of yacht modelling. He fancied he could do something in the way of improving the form of the existing racing yacht. After cutting several half-models, he got one that pleased him, and on a piece of his own property adjoining the Blackwater river in Essex, the famous yawl, afterwards to be known as 'Jullanar,' was laid down. [Illustration: 'JULLANAR' _126 tons. Built by E. H. Bentall, Esq., 1875._] Great length was taken in proportion to beam, as length means capacity for speed, and beam in those days was doubly taxed. Draft was untaxed, and was used boldly to obtain stability and weatherly qualities; but while such proportions would have been impossible with the ordinary form of forefoot and sternpost, as the boat would have been clogged up with wet surface, this was got over by cutting all deadwood clean away both forward and aft, in such daring fashion as was not attempted until 'Thistle' was built, years afterward and I should not have essayed such a form of profile in her had not 'Jullanar's' success given me a precedent. Add to these features the fact that every line in the vessel was easy and fair, and the only wonder is that the famous yawl was not even more phenomenally successful than she was. [Illustration: 'Jullanar'--midship section.] Mr. Hunt, publisher of 'Hunt's Yachting Magazine,' has kindly supplied the following measurements of the 'Jullanar,' which were given to him by Mr. Bentall himself, when he would not let anyone else have them. Coming therefore from the fountain-head they are accurate, and should be preserved as a register of detail. _'Jullanar'[3] 126 tons, yawl_ ft. in. Length over all 110 6 Depth of hold 12 0 Length on load-line 99 0 Beam extreme, one sixth of load-line 16 10 " on water-line 16 5 " on deck 16 8 Depth after under load-line 13 6 " at forefoot load-line 1 6 " at midship 13 6 Height of freeboard aft 6 3 " " forward 7 9 " " midships 3 8 Height of freeboard bulwarks 2 0 Rake of sternpost, upright Distance the greatest transverse section is abaft centre of vessel at load-line 10 6 Distance of centre of gravity of displacement below water-line 3 4 Length of mainmast 75 0 " deck to hounds 53 0 " masthead 9 6 Diameter at deck 1 4 Length of main-topmast, fid to pin 38 6 " main-boom 56 6 Diameter centre of main-boom 1 0 Length of main-gaff 40 0 " bowsprit outboard 24 6 " gaff topsail-yards, No. 1 63 0 " " " No. 2 46 0 " " " No. 3 22 0 " mizzen-mast 51 6 " deck to hounds 36 0 " mizzen-boom 26 0 " mizzen-yard 35 0 [Footnote 3: _Vide_ 'Arabian Nights,' the 'Princess Jullanar of the Sea.'] To my mind the genius, daring, and originality of mind of Mr. Bentall were even more fully displayed in the design of the unsuccessful 'Evolution' than of the successful 'Jullanar.' [Illustration: 'Jullanar,' yawl, 126 tons, 1875. Designed by E. H. Bentall, Esq.] The 'Evolution,' as her name implied, was the logical outcome of the then tonnage rule, and of the laws of resistance rediscovered, or at least popularised, by Froude. It seems self-evident now that with a belief in these laws only one type of boat could be the result; but Mr. Froude alone had the courage of his opinions, and built the extraordinary 10-tonner which, if it did nothing else, scared the authorities into changing the tonnage rule. 'Evolution' was by far the longest of the 10-tonners, her dimensions being 51 ft. × 6 ft. 6 in.--indeed about the same water-line length as the twenties. To get moderate wet surface the ends were cut away; but as 'Jullanar' already represented the utmost that could be done in that direction, while preserving a fair line of keel, this was cast aside in 'Evolution,' and the profile was that of a true 'fin' boat. More than this, it was found after a trial sail or two that she was very deficient in stability when the lead slab forming the keel was recast in the form of a bulb on the bottom of the plate, the completed design simply forming one of our modern bulb fin keels, but of course, owing to the 94 rule, with vastly less beam. 'Evolution' was not a success because of her insufficient stability, but with the meagre data in possession of the designer as to the stability of boats of this class, it would have been marvellous had the difficulty been overcome in a first trial. To those able to see the beauties in a design, it matters less whether the ultimate outcome has been successful or not, and while to 'the general' nothing succeeds like success, a few have a kindly sympathy and hearty admiration for those who have laboured, that _we_ may enjoy the increase. Many of the best and kindest thoughts and brightest ideas never reach fruition in this world, and so in the mechanical arts there is often more genius displayed in a failure than in a success, with this difference, that a mechanical idea seldom dies, but, 'blossoming in the dust' of one brain, is plucked and worn by another. 'Evolution' lay dead for fifteen years. She has had a striking resurrection on both sides of the Atlantic. [Illustration: FT L.W.L. 50.75' D°. BEAM. 6.395' EXTR. BEAM. 6.50 DRAUGHT 10.00 'Evolution,' October 12, 1880, 10 tons, Y.R.A. Designed by E. H. Bentall, Esq.] In the autumn of 1886, as has been stated, the tonnage rule was changed to that of rating, the only taxed dimensions being length on water-line and sail-area. This change, though at once affecting dimensions, did not materially affect form, though even in the earlier boats designed under this rule more hollow was given to the sections, this being of course a necessity, as with the added beam abnormal displacement would otherwise have been the result. But displacement was not immediately cut down, and for a given length of load-water-line yachts had quite as much displacement as formerly; 'Thistle,' 120-rating, and 'Mohawk,' 40-rater, the only two large yachts built the first year for the new classification, both being wholesome big-bodied boats, with 130 and 58 tons displacement respectively. Overhang naturally increased somewhat, as it was apparent that this could be more usefully adopted with a shallow-bodied boat than with a narrow one, it being evident that the natural way of forming the stem and counter was to follow the general buttock lines of the fore and after body. This overhang on the fairly deep boats built up till 1890, so far from being objectionable, was a distinct advantage, as it gave a fine, easy, and at the same time lifting, bow in a sea, eased the bow riband lines when the boat lay down and was hard driven reaching, and carried the side fairly out aft in the long counter. [Illustration: Midship section Profile of lines of 'Meteor' (late 'Thistle'). Designed by G. L. Watson, 1887.] But beam was now steadily increasing, as untaxed dimensions are apt to do, while extreme draught also increased, and these two giving ample stability, displacement was more and more cut down. Length still had to be got somehow, but length ran up wet surface, and in the 'classes' for every foot of length a considerable amount of sail-area had to be given, making, as it were, a direct and indirect tax thereon. With an ordinary form of profile, the longer yachts would have been clogged up with wet surface; so profiles first imitated 'Jullanar' and then 'Evolution,' while displacement was cut down to a minimum, to give an easily driven form, and stability got in another way, by lengthening the righting lever of the ballast, by giving immense draft of water, and in the smaller classes concentrating this ballast in the form of a bulb, as in the altered 'Evolution.' With the shallow body, overhang has of course increased, the flat section carrying out naturally into overhangs forward and aft, which almost double the water-line length of the boat on deck. That such a type of boat sails fast for a given sail-area and water-line length is beyond dispute, but this exhausts almost all that can be said in its favour. For 1/2-raters, 1-raters, and 2-1/2-raters, the type is perhaps suitable enough, as these are only used as day boats, and extended cruising was never contemplated in them. But from 5-up to 40-rating the type is nothing like so good as that of the boats built prior to 1890. Expensive to build, expensive to handle, without head-room, or indeed room of any kind inside, they would thrash themselves to pieces in any sea but for the admirable manner in which they have been put together. A season, or at most two, sees the end of their success as racers; then they must be broken up, or sold for a mere song, as they are quite useless for cruising. So strongly was this felt by the various yacht-builders and designers, that in the autumn of 1891 they, in response to the invitation of the Yacht Racing Association, addressed a joint circular to that body, and, with I think exceptional abnegation of what looked to be their more immediate interests, pointed out the undesirability of the present type of yacht, in the following letter:-- Langham Hotel, London: October 6, 1892. We (C. P. Clayton, William Fife, jun., Charles Nicholson, Arthur E. Payne, H. W. Ridsdale, Joseph Soper, and G. L. Watson) have met for the consideration of the questions put before us in the circular of the Council of the Yacht Racing Association, dated September 27, 1892. We have considered that, besides the saving in time to the Council and to ourselves, it would be more satisfactory for many reasons to have such a preliminary meeting for interchange of ideas on the important issues raised in this circular, and we trust that this course of action will be approved of by the Council. We may state that we are practically unanimous in the opinions hereinafter expressed, the only exception being on the one point of taxing overhang, Mr. Ridsdale feeling that he could not go with the majority in this. We would, then, most respectfully submit to your Council that as designers of racing yachts we have no desire whatever to interfere with the present rating rule. It has the merit of being the existing rule, and is a perfectly fair one for racing yachts together by, as indeed is any rule whatsoever, so far as designers are concerned, provided its conditions are clearly stated beforehand. But as naval architects, and, if we may be permitted to say so, as trustees for the yachting public, we think it our duty to point out any deteriorating tendency in a rule. We cannot help fearing that the present length and sail-area rule has such a tendency, and is leading, if it has not already led, to an unwholesome type of boat. We take it that the general yachting public require in a yacht: That she shall be safe in all conditions of wind and weather; that she shall combine the maximum of room on deck and below with the minimum of prime cost; and that she shall be driven as fast as may be with the least expenditure of labour--i.e. that she shall have a moderate and workable sail-area. Therefore, as but few men can afford to build for racing, and for racing only, and as the racer of to-day is the cruiser of a few years hence, any rating rule should by its limitations encourage such a wholesome type of vessel. On the above assumptions we have based our advice, and it is for your Council, as representing the general body of yachtsmen, to determine whether these assumptions are correct or not. We are all agreed, then, that the present length and sail-area rule is a most admirable one for the classification and regulation of time allowance of racing yachts. But we are also of opinion that the tendency of this rule is such as to induce a vessel of so large dimensions, relative to displacement and internal capacity (i.e. the useful living room on board the ship), that it is advisable to so alter or modify this rule that a type of vessel having more body may be evolved. We suggest that length and sail-area (as being the leading elements in speed) should be preserved in some form, but modified so as to make it the interest of builders to produce a bigger-bodied boat. The direct method of doing this would be to introduce displacement or register tonnage in some way as a divisor in the formula, but we foresee so many difficulties in the practical working of this that we are not prepared to advise it. By taxing breadth and draft or, alternatively, girth, and by reducing the tax on sail, we think this result may be arrived at indirectly. As to the precise value that each element should take in such a formula, we, at this stage, are not prepared to venture an opinion. [Illustration: 'Florinda,' yawl, 126 tons. Built by Camper and Nicholson, 1873.] The above on the general principles of the rule. But we also feel that the details of measurement, &c., require revision. _On the hull._--The overhang, at least forward, should be taxed, as it may be carried to such an extent as to be a source of danger, but it need not be taxed excessively or to extinction. The L.W.L. should be marked forward and aft. Should girth or draft be used in the formula in centreboard vessels, some proportion of the drop of board should be added, and a limit should be placed on the weight of the board. In the smaller classes, at least, the crews should be limited. [Illustration: 'Kriemhilda,' 106 tons. Built by Ratsey, 1872.] _On the sails._--The perpendicular of fore triangle should be measured from top of deck to where the line of luff of sail would cut mast. That the question of limiting the relative area of mainsail to total sail in the various classes be considered. Mr. Alexander Richardson, of Liverpool, was unable to be present at this meeting, but this note has been submitted to him, and receives his endorsation:-- The Council of the Yacht Racing Association, however, took the view that what the yacht-owning public want in a racing yacht is speed, and speed at any price, and on the yacht-builders clearly understanding this they withdrew their objections as having been made under a misunderstanding, but asked to be tied down to some extent, in a letter dated November 8, and in the following words:-- 'Our opinions, as expressed in that letter of October 6, practically remain unaltered; but so far as we are able to interpret the wishes of yacht-owners, as stated in the public prints, and more especially as expressed by your chairman and the majority of your committee, we now take it that speed, and speed before other good qualities, is what is to be aimed at. 'We consequently withdraw any suggestions made in that letter, as having been made under a misapprehension as to your requirements. 'But while it may be determined to retain a length and sail-area rule, either in its present or in some slightly altered form, we would most respectfully suggest that, at least in the classes above 5-rating (if, indeed, a lower line should not be drawn), the tendency toward abnormal and un-shipshape form should be curbed in some way. The main direction in which we would propose such limitation in form would be in the outline of longitudinal section, and we would suggest that this should be bounded by a fair line, concave, or at least not convex, toward the water-line. That the sternpost should show, say, a quarter of an inch above the water-line aft, and the rudder be hung thereon. That overhang forward and aft should be restricted, as also the extreme forward position of mast; but as we deem it undesirable to absolutely prohibit any form, we would simply propose to tax such variations from this normal one so heavily as to make their adoption unprofitable.' The Yacht Racing Association, however, thought it undesirable to limit form in any way, and beyond the adoption of the proposed method of measuring the fore triangle, and marking the L.W.L., the rule remained unaltered. [Illustration: 'Florinda,' yawl.] 1893 therefore saw new boats in the classes, fast, it is true, in fresh breezes, but undesirable from anything but a racing point of view. In the unclassed vessels above 40-rating things were not quite so bad, as with a practically unlimited sail-area a fair amount of body was required to carry it. Besides, men who did not mind spending two or three thousand on a 'machine' hesitated before putting down ten or twelve. In America, however, where money is spent like water when the national honour is at stake, 85-foot machines were built on the off chance of their being successes; but it is gratifying alike to American and British yachtsmen that the Cup should have been defended by such a wholesome type of vessel as 'Vigilant' undoubtedly is. In a short chapter showing the evolution of the modern racing yacht, many links in the chain of descent must be left unnoticed. I have had to leave almost undescribed Dan Hatcher's wonderful fleet, beginning in 'Glance' and 'Muriel,' and culminating, perhaps, in 'Norman'; Nicholson's famous schooners and yawls ('Florinda' was a standing miracle for years); Michael Ratsey's equally fine ships; Richardson's grand cutters and Clayton's clever 'length classers'; the work accomplished, and still being accomplished, by the famous William Fifes, besides many others whose labours are more fully recorded in other parts of these volumes. But I think no one of all that band who have loved and worked for the sport of yacht racing cares for the type of ship which has been evolved by their own ingenuity and the present Y.R.A. rule, and I am convinced that they would thankfully welcome any legislation which should protect the yachting public against the present extravagant, costly, and by no means seaworthy type of boat. [Illustration: 'Florinda'--midship section.] [Illustration: H.M. brig 'Lady Nelson,'[4] 60 tons (1797), to Australia. Three keels, 1798, 1800-1-2.] [Footnote 4: The first ship to discover that Tasmania was an island.] CHAPTER V SLIDING KEELS AND CENTREBOARDS BY R. T. PRITCHETT[5] [Footnote 5: The Editor desires to express his acknowledgments to Mr. Pritchett for much energetic service kindly rendered during the preparation of these volumes.] [Illustration: MIDSHIP SECTIONS, DATES, AND TONNAGE OF SCHOONERS, YAWLS, AND CUTTERS. _Drawn to scale by J. M. Soper, M.I.N.A._] Centreboards have been so prominently before the yachting world of late that, endeavouring carefully to avoid the argumentative phases of the question, it may be well to notice certain points of their history which may be generally unknown. Centreboards are essentially American in general adoption. Their origin was the natural outcome of the shallow coasts and sand-banks of New York Bay and the New Jersey coast, where wild fowl flock, and the fowler finds happy hunting grounds. Sportsmen originally sank boxes in the marshes; in the course of time these developed in length, and became 'scows' or floating blinds; then the corners forward were rounded off, to facilitate their being hauled up on a beach or bank. This mobility led to their passing into deeper water, the scows were developing into boats, and then came the practical germ of centreboards. To give stability to the box, a hand board was dropped through a well slot, as the simplest way of achieving the object, until they reached land or some other marsh. The board was not hinged or pivoted in any way, and when no longer required was pulled up and laid on the floor of the craft, ready for any emergency. These boards were first known as 'dagger boards,' and as they were likely to touch the sand unexpectedly, they were rounded off at the bottom, curving aft, so that notice was given, and before the hull touched the ground the boat could be put about into deeper water. This was the early form of American centreboard. On this side of the Atlantic, it is to be noted, our forefathers were not so prejudiced against their introduction as many are inclined to assume. In 1774 A.D. Lord Percy had a boat built in Boston, New England, with one long centreboard, and sent over here in order that he might try the new system in this country. In 1789 a boat was built at Deptford with three centreboards or sliding keels. [Illustration: Built in Boston for Lord Percy, 1774, with one centreboard.] [Illustration: Built at Deptford, 1789, with three sliding keels.] The Admiralty in 1790 A.D. had a revenue cutter called the 'Trial,' built with three sliding keels. The report was most satisfactory, and a note on their application describes-- Use of fore keel in tacking and laying to. Use of keels on a wind, raised or depressed according as necessary to assist helm or gain the wind. Use of after keel, in wearing or scudding in a gale of wind. Keels hove up going over shoals or before the wind. [Illustration: Laying to.] [Illustration: On a wind.] [Illustration: Scudding.] The Admiralty soon after this proceeded to make a bold experiment, and built a 60-ton brig, the 'Lady Nelson,' with three sliding keels, designed to perform a voyage of discovery to New South Wales. She was built in 1797, and began her expedition of 1800-1-2 under the command of Lieutenant James Grant, R.N., when she first sailed round Tasmania, at the same time as the 'Flinders's' voyage to Australia. A full account was published in 1803. The whole report was favourable to the keels, and H.M. sloop 'Cynthia' was built. Private individuals also made experiments, and some cargo boats at Teignmouth were fitted with them for river-work. About this time a very prominent personage in the yachting world was the Commodore of the Cumberland Sailing Society in the Thames. Commodore Taylor had a yacht built with five sliding keels, the illustration here given being his from a photograph of the model now in possession of Mr. Richard Taylor, his grandson. The original lines of this vessel have been presented to the Royal Thames Yacht Club, together with the pennants and ensigns flown by the Commodore during his period of office, and are now carefully preserved in the Club House in Albemarle Street; the cups are still retained in the family, by Messrs. Robert and Richard Taylor. Early in the present century the sliding keels were pivoted (1809) here in England, by Captain Shuldham, R.N. [Illustration: Cumberland Fleet: Commodore Taylor's 'Cumberland,' with sliding keels.] [Illustration: Showing the five keels down, as on the wind.] In America centreboards became general, in fact almost universal, from scows to catboats, catboats to sloops, sloops to schooners and coasters. As regards their application to English modern racers, Mr. Jameson, who is always to the fore either in adopting improvements or sailing races, built 'Irex' in 1873 with a centreboard; but after careful trials to thoroughly test its capabilities, it was discarded, the slot filled up, and 'Irex' became the crack of the season without it. 'Dora,' 10-tonner, by Mr. G. L. Watson, was a success with a centreboard. In 1892 'Queen Mab,' 40-rater, designed also by Watson, had a centreboard, and at first sailed with it in the Thames; but after Dover it was not used. Still 'Queen Mab' became the 'Queen of the 40-raters' for the year 1892. Recent yacht-building in America offers some interesting data. Mr. Edward Burgess, a very successful designer, planned a keel boat, 'Gossoon,' which was a great success in 1890, and many was the close tussle between her and Fife of Fairlie's 'Minerva,' built in 1888. After the death of Edward Burgess, 'Nat' Herreshoff produced a keel boat, 'the Gloriana,' with new ideas of form and bow, and she acquitted herself well (1891). In 1892 he followed on with the 'Wasp,' keel boat, and in 1893 two cup defenders were designed and built by Messrs. Herreshoffs of Rhode Island, the 'Vigilant,' centreboard, and 'Colonia,' keel boat. The 'Vigilant' was victorious in the best races, and afterwards won the race for the America Cup; nevertheless 'Colonia,' the keel boat, was the designer's favourite. The battle of centreboard _v._ keel will doubtless be continued. Among the cup defenders, General Paine, one of the most scientific and earnest yachtsmen in America, decided to throw aside all conventionality, and to have advanced science carried out in a real racing machine 'up to date.' Full details are not obtainable, but they are understood to be: Canoe hull, canoe bow, hull drawing 5 feet. Fin keel of 12 feet with bulb, through both of which drops centreboard; a small centreboard forward like Commodore Stevens's 'Black Maria' sloop, and the rudder slung on a small fin. It is a matter of general regret that the gear of the boat gave way during the trials. The aluminium blocks were not strong enough, and the jaws of the gaff were carried away. General Paine may, however, be expected to try again. The general feeling on this side among the very best authorities on the subject is certainly that a keel racing cutter can be designed and built to compete with any centreboard vessel, and the victory of 'Vigilant' in the late races has not yet convinced that excellent sportsman and practical yachtsman the owner of 'Valkyrie' that nothing but a centreboard can win the America Cup. One thing must be remembered: it is neither centreboard nor keel _per se_ that makes a perfect racer; it is the happy combination and balance of quantities that get the much-coveted 'gun' at the finish. It is curious that in the very early days of sliding keels a patent for a design should have been taken out, not by a practical sailor or naval architect, but by a London coach-builder. In 1785, Lionel Luken, who followed that trade, wrote a pamphlet upon the 'invention, principle, and construction of insubmergible boats'; such boats were to be protected by bands of cork round the gunwales, to be made buoyant by using air compartments, especially at bow and stern, and 'to be ballasted with or by an iron keel.' Apparently after much trouble Luken found an opportunity of testing his idea, and the first iron-keel boat at Bamborough Head saved lives from shipwreck. [Illustration: H.M. 'Trial', cutter--sheer draught. Designed by Captain Schanks, 1791.] [Illustration: 'Kestrel,' 202 tons (Earl of Yarborough, Commodore R.Y.S.), 1839.] CHAPTER VI RECOLLECTIONS OF SCHOONER RACING BY LT.-COL. SIR GEORGE LEACH, K.C.B., VICE-PRESIDENT Y.R.A. Schooner racing has unfortunately for the present become a thing of the past; but the prominent position it at one time occupied makes it desirable to refer to the subject in any publication relating to yacht racing, for the purpose of reviving recollections of the times when races between the 'two-stickers,' or in which they took part, were considered a leading feature of the regattas of all the principal yacht clubs. The decadence of schooner racing was primarily due to the more extensive use of steam; wealthy men preferred steam yachts, in which they had better accommodation and could move with certainty from port to port, to sailing yachts, in which the accommodation was less spacious and the powers of locomotion were dependent on the winds and tides. But to the true lover of the world of waters the pleasures of steaming do not bear comparison with the pleasures of sailing. Another reason for schooners going out of fashion was no doubt due to the improvement of the speed of the cutters and yawls. Formerly schooners could compete with success in races open to all rigs, for though their powers of turning to windward were inferior to those of the single-stickers, their reaching powers, with the wind free, were generally superior, so that in mixed races they had always a fair chance of carrying off the prize. No schooner has yet been produced which could compete successfully with the cutters of the present day, even with the benefit of the large allowance of two-fifths of her tonnage made under the rules of the Yacht Racing Association for difference of rig. The last schooner of note which appeared under racing colours--the 'Amphitrite'--brought out in tiptop condition by her owner, with an able skipper in command, though she had some success, was not on a par with the best of the racing cutters of her day. Again, the building of large yachts for racing purposes has declined for some years past, owing to the great increase in the expense both of building and maintaining them, and because yachting men found that as much, if not more, pleasure was to be obtained in racing small vessels, in the handling of which they could take a large share, than in larger vessels which, as a rule, were sailed wholly by their skippers. Under all these circumstances, it is not surprising that schooner racing should, for the present, have passed away; though it is by no means impossible that it may hereafter be revived, especially if further experience shall show that the very large cutters which have been brought out this year, with sail-areas of over 10,000 square feet--about a quarter of an acre--are too large for the sometimes turbulent winds and waters round our coasts. In the early times of schooner racing the yachts were, as a rule, vessels of comparatively large tonnage, with raking masts, standing bowsprits, and jibbooms; and the old salts had then a conviction on their minds that sails with a good belly in them were the right thing. In 1851 the American schooner yacht 'America' appeared in our waters. As compared with our yachts she was remarkable for two things. She had a much longer and finer bow than was usually given by our designers, 'a cod's head and mackerel's tail' being the principle which in those days appears to have been accepted; and, secondly, her sails were made to stand much flatter than ours, so much so that it was remarked that when by the wind close-hauled her sails were barely visible if seen edge on. One peculiarity in the 'America's' sails was that the foot of the mainsail, instead of being fixed to the boom only at the tack and clue, its two ends, was laced to the boom along its whole length, which tended to make the sail stand flatter. This improvement was quickly adopted by our schooners, but it was many a day before it was taken to by the cutters, the impression being that cutters would not sail with laced mainsails, and that a certain amount of curve in the foot was necessary 'to let the wind out.' Now, however, cutters as well as schooners have laced mainsails, with appreciable improvement in their weatherly qualities. The Royal Yacht Squadron arranged a race without time allowances round the Isle of Wight for a 100_l._ cup, the 'America' being one of the competitors, which included both cutters and schooners. The 'America' quickly showed her superiority over our schooners, being more weatherly and going more smoothly through the water, and she won the cup, but would not have done so if the conditions of the race had been enforced, as she did not go round the Nab Light, thus gaining a considerable advantage; but she was treated generously and not disqualified. She would also probably have been beaten by the cutters 'Alarm,' 'Arrow,' and 'Volante' if the two first had not been put out of the race by the 'Arrow' running aground in Sandown Bay, the 'Alarm' going to her assistance, and the 'Volante' by the carrying away of her bowsprit in a collision with the 'Freak.' All these cutters were well known to be much faster than the 'Aurora,' which came in only eight minutes after the 'America.' The cup thus won by the 'America' was presented by her owners to the New York Yacht Club as a perpetual Challenge Cup to be sailed for by yachts of all nations, and is known as the 'America Cup.' It has since been competed for by several English yachts, the 'Cambria' and 'Livonia' schooners, the 'Genesta,' 'Galatea,' and 'Thistle' cutters, and lastly--up to the time of writing--by the cutter 'Valkyrie,' owned by Lord Dunraven. The conditions under which the cup is held, however, appear to unduly favour the holders, and do not commend themselves to yachtsmen on this side of the Atlantic. We were not slow to learn and take advantage of the lessons taught us by the 'America.' In the following year the 'Alarm' cutter, 193 tons, owned by the veteran yachtsman Mr. Joseph Weld, of Lulworth Castle, was lengthened, given a longer bow, and converted into a schooner of 248 tons; and for some years, with Jack Nicholls at the helm, was the fastest schooner in the fleet. In 1855 the 'Wildfire,' of 59 tons, owned by Sir Percy Shelley, was brought out as a schooner with a running bowsprit and head-sails like those of a cutter, in substitution for the usual standing bowsprit and jibboom of a schooner. She was the first racing schooner so rigged. The alteration of the head-sails greatly improved her weatherly qualities, and she was raced with success by Captain John Herbert against both cutters and schooners. [Illustration: 'Pantomime,' 1865 (formerly Colonel Markham's schooner). Designed and built by M. E. Ratsey, Cowes, Isle of Wight. Length for tonnage, 92 ft. 3 in.; breadth for tonnage 19 ft. 3 in.; tonnage T.M. 144.] No further material improvement was made in the schooner rig until 1860, when Camper and Nicholson, of Gosport, built the 'Aline,' 216 tons, for Mr. Charles Thellusson. Up to this time it had been usual to give the masts of schooners a considerable rake aft with the idea that it made their sails more lifting, but the 'Aline' came out with masts nearly upright like the masts of a cutter and quickly dispelled the illusion. She also, like the 'Wildfire,' had a running bowsprit. In the hands of her able and experienced owner the 'Aline' proved a great success, and, with variations in model, was the type on which all the best schooners which followed her were based. Although several other schooners were built to beat her, notably the 'Evadne,' 206 tons, by the same builders, for Mr. John Richardson in 1862, she remained up to 1865 the most successful schooner afloat. In that year two new schooners, which were destined afterwards to make their mark in the yacht-racing world and to wrest some of the laurels from the 'Aline,' made their _début_ in the Royal Yacht Squadron race for Her Majesty's Cup at Cowes: the 'Egeria,' 153 tons, built by Wanhill, of Poole, for Mr. John Mulholland (now Lord Dunleath), and the 'Pantomime,' 151 tons, built by Michael Ratsey of Cowes for Lieut.-Colonel Markham. The 'Witchcraft,' 240 tons, built by White of Cowes for Mr. Thomas Broadwood, also came out this year, and with the 'Alarm,' which had passed into the hands of Mr. George Duppa, again commissioned, and a fleet of racing schooners made up of such vessels as 'Aline,' 216 tons; 'Evadne,' 184; 'Titania,' 184; 'Albertine,' 153; 'Galatea,' 143; 'Viking,' 140; 'Gloriana,' 133; 'Circe,' 123; 'Fleur-de-Lys,' 90; 'Iolanthe,' 75; 'Intrigue,' 72; 'Madcap,' 70; 'Fiery Cross,' 51, and 'Reverie,' 43, it probably would not be wrong to date the approach to the zenith of schooner racing from this period. The races this year were chiefly of the mixed order, that is to say, races which included yachts of all rigs, schooners, cutters and yawls. The principal schooner race of the season was that for the Queen's Cup at Cowes, for which the entries were the 'Aline,' 216 tons; 'Aquiline,' 55; 'Albertine,' 156; 'Egeria,' 153; 'Galatea,' 143; 'Pantomime,' 151; 'Titania,' 184; and 'Viking,' 142. There was a strong north-westerly wind, which gave them a reach to the eastward, and a close haul with some turning to windward when going west, over the usual Queen's Cup course, round the Nab Lightship and a mark-boat off Lymington. The 'Egeria' proved a very smart vessel on all points of sailing, coming in neck and neck with the 'Aline,' and winning the Cup in her maiden race. Two days afterwards, she again beat all the schooners in a race round the Isle of Wight. In the following year the racing season opened early, with a memorable contest from the Nore to Dover, under the auspices of the Royal Thames Yacht Club. There was a large entry--six schooners, nine cutters, the 'New Moon,' lugger, 209, and the 'Xantha,' yawl, 135--seventeen in all. The schooners were 'Evadne,' 206; 'Blue Bell,' 170; 'Egeria,' 153; 'Gloriana,' 140; 'Iolanthe,' 83; and 'Fleur-de-Lys,' 82. The 'Blue Bell' was a new vessel built by Camper and Nicholson for Mr. Edwards. Among the cutters was the 'Lulworth,' 80, formerly owned by Mr. Weld, but then recently purchased by Mr. George Duppa. The other cutters ranged from 65 tons to 40, and included many of the cracks of the day. A hard E.S.E. wind was blowing, which, with a lee-going tide, kicked up such a sea as is not often seen in the Thames channels. Those who sailed in the race will remember it. The 'Xantha' snugly canvassed though with a jib-headed topsail aloft, went away from all the other vessels in the beat to windward, but the 'Sphinx' and 'Christabel,' though much smaller, sailed remarkably well against the heavy head sea. The 'Lulworth,' from which much had been expected, proved too tender for so strong a wind, and when off the Prince's Lightship was put out of the race by starting her chain-plates, with considerable risk of her mast going over the side. The race between the schooners was a good one, but the new vessel, 'Blue Bell,' did not come up to expectation. The 'Egeria' was soon in front of all but 'Gloriana,' and eventually passed her just before they reached the North Sandhead Lightship. When it was rounded sheets were eased off, the troubles ended, and it was an easy reach along the edge of the Goodwin Sands, in which the power and weight of the schooners quickly began to appear by their overhauling the smaller cutters, the 'Egeria' being carried by the send of a heavy sea past the leading cutter, the 'Christabel,' not more than a few hundred yards from the winning line. 'Xantha' finished 20 min. before any other vessel, 'Egeria' being second, thus establishing her reputation as one of the fastest of the schooners. Only seven out of the seventeen were timed, several having either come to grief or given up. Fortunately the tide was sufficiently high to let the yachts into dock. 'Egeria' got pooped by a heavy sea when running in under small canvas, luckily without any unpleasant consequences beyond a ducking for all in the after part of the ship. [Illustration: 'EGERIA' _153 tons. J. Mulholland, Esq. (Lord Dunleath), 1865._] 'Blue Bell' raced again in the schooner match of the Royal Thames Yacht Club, and was beaten by the 'Gloriana' and 'Circe.' But in the R.Y.S. race round the Isle of Wight she was successful against both 'Egeria' and 'Pantomime.' A little later, however, she raced against, and was beaten by, the 'Aline' at Ryde. It was not until 1868 that anything noteworthy occurred in schooner racing. In that year the 'Cambria,' 188 tons, was added to the schooner fleet. She was built by Michael Ratsey of Cowes for Mr. James Ashbury, and was destined to obtain some celebrity, not only in our own waters, but also from winning the race across the Atlantic with the 'Dauntless,' American schooner, belonging to Mr. Gordon Bennett, and from being the first to challenge and compete, though unsuccessfully, for the 'America Cup.' She made her first appearance in the matches of the Royal Thames, New Thames, and Royal London Yacht Clubs, but was beaten by both 'Egeria' and 'Gloriana.' The contests between the 'Cambria' and the 'Egeria' during the time the former was owned by Mr. Ashbury were frequent, and keenly contested. They met in most of the principal races, with varying results, but on striking a balance the 'Egeria' appears to have been the victor. Mr. Charles Thellusson sold the celebrated 'Aline' to Sir Richard Sutton, and brought out the 'Guinevere,' 308 tons, which was built for him by Camper and Nicholson of Gosport. There was good racing in the Solent among the schooners, in which 'Guinevere,' 'Aline,' 'Cambria,' 'Egeria,' and 'Pantomime' took part. 'Cambria' proved herself to be a fast and powerful vessel, especially in strong winds, and sailed about level with the 'Aline.' 'Egeria' also sailed well, but there was little opportunity of estimating the qualities of 'Guinevere,' as she was only entered for one race. Two of the races were across the Channel, one from Ryde to Cherbourg, the other back to Ryde. The latter was not completed until long after dark, and the night will be remembered as one of the dirtiest in which a race was ever sailed; a hard, squally wind, intense darkness, and blinding rain made the sailing anything but agreeable. 'Cambria' won, beating the 'Aline' by 7 min., but it was not until after their arrival that they were aware they had been in the darkness such close competitors. A challenge was given this year by Mr. Baldwin, of New York, on behalf of the American schooner 'Sappho,' 310 tons, which was promptly taken up by the schooners 'Aline,' 215 tons, and 'Cambria,' 188 tons, and the cutters 'Oimara,' 165 tons, and 'Condor,' 129 tons, and a race was arranged round the Isle of Wight under the direction of the Royal Yacht Squadron. It took place in August, after the Cowes week. The yachts were started to the eastward at 10 A.M. before a light north-westerly breeze. In the run and reach to the Bembridge Ledge Buoy all the English vessels were ahead of the 'Sappho' except the 'Oimara.' Just after rounding the buoy 'Sappho' carried away her martingale, and a little further on the 'Oimara' carried away her big topsail-yard. It was now a beat to St. Catherine's against tide, and 'Oimara' soon passed 'Sappho.' At 1 hr. 15 mins., when 'Sappho' was going about under Ventnor cliffs, she carried away her jibboom, which destroyed any winning chance she might otherwise have had. After rounding St. Catherine's the yachts were all able to lay their course for the Needles, which were rounded in the following order:--'Oimara,' 'Condor,' 'Cambria,' 'Aline,' and 'Sappho.' In the run back to Cowes against an ebb tide the two schooners got ahead of the cutters, the order of arrival being 'Cambria,' 6 hrs. 17 mins. 50 secs.; then the 'Aline,' 'Oimara,' and 'Condor,' the last being 7 mins. behind the leader. The 'Sappho' did not get in until nearly an hour and a half after the leader. The breaking of the 'Sappho's' jibboom was unfortunate, but before the accident it was made tolerably clear that in a light wind the English vessels had the heels of her, both with the wind free and sailing close hauled. In 1869 Count E. Batthyany brought out the 'Flying Cloud,' 75 tons, which in his hands proved to be one of the fastest of the smaller class of schooners. The old 'Alarm' was also again in commission, and with such a fleet of schooners as 'Guinevere,' 308; 'Alarm,' 243; 'Witchcraft,' 221; 'Aline,' 216; 'Pleiad,' 205; 'Cambria,' 188; 'Egeria,' 156; 'Pantomime,' 151; 'Siesta,' 127; 'Gloriana,' 133; 'Flying Cloud,' 75; 'Amy,' 72; and others, the racing could not fail to be keen and interesting. One race deserves special notice, because an American schooner, the 'Dauntless,' 336 tons, the property of Mr. Gordon Bennett, was one of the competitors. The Emperor Napoleon, desirous of encouraging aquatic sports, gave two prizes to be sailed for by yachts of all nations from Cherbourg round the Nab Lightship and back, a distance of 130 miles. A third prize, open to French yachts only, was also given. The entries were: 'Dauntless,' 336, Mr. Gordon Bennett; 'Guinevere,' 308, Mr. Charles Thellusson; 'Shark,' 204, the Duke of Rutland; 'Egeria,' 156, Mr. J. Mulholland; 'Mystère,' 118, Count de Sesmaisons; 'Diane,' 98, Mons. Bescoit Champy. Bar accidents, the race for the first two prizes lay between the 'Dauntless,' 'Guinevere,' and 'Egeria.' The yachts were started at 2 P.M. on August 16. The weather was fine and bright, with a northerly 7-knot breeze, which enabled them to lay their course close hauled for the Nab. Every stitch of canvas that would draw was set, the 'Dauntless' putting up a jib-topsail of a size which made those carried by the other yachts pale into insignificance. The jib-topsail having been long known as the 'topmast breaker,' it was felt that if there came a puff the 'Dauntless' would have a good chance of losing hers, and this soon afterwards happened, topmast, jib-topsail, and gaff-topsail all going over the side. The wreck, however, was very smartly cleared away, and a jury-foretopmast rigged with a small gaff-topsail upon it. A large balloon jib was also set, as well as a larger main-topmast staysail. The 'Dauntless' had edged a good bit up to windward, and she was right in doing so, for when the Isle of Wight was sighted about 7 o'clock it was broad on the weather bows of 'Guinevere' and 'Egeria.' The position of the yachts at this time was, 'Guinevere' leading by about 1-1/2 mile, 'Egeria' second, with 'Dauntless' on her weather quarter and a little astern; the others from two to three miles behind. The 'Egeria,' having to luff, did not go so fast through the water, and the 'Dauntless,' closing up upon her, the two yachts rapidly approached each other, and then occurred one of the most interesting incidents of the race. The 'Dauntless' tried to pass the 'Egeria' to windward, but the latter luffed to prevent her doing so, and it became a neck-and-neck race between them. In a short time it was evident that 'Egeria' was sailing a little closer to the wind, and slowly drawing ahead of her powerful rival; and in the course of an hour she was well clear, and had the 'Dauntless' under her lee, dropping astern fast. The sea was smooth, which was no doubt much in favour of the smaller vessel. The 'Guinevere,' sailing splendidly, considerably increased her lead during this little by-play, and was rapidly nearing the Nab Lightship, which she ultimately rounded without a tack, thus gaining a considerable advantage, especially as she carried the last of the ebb tide until she was clear of the island. The 'Egeria' and 'Dauntless' were not so fortunate; the wind fell lighter and headed them, so that they had to make several tacks before they could round, and all but the 'Guinevere' met the flood tide against them after rounding the Nab. The times taken by a French steamer were as follows: 'Guinevere,' 10 hrs. 17 mins.; 'Egeria,' 11 hrs. 12 mins.; 'Dauntless,' 11 hrs. 22 mins.; 'Diane,' 11 hrs. 57 mins.; 'Mystère,' 12 hrs. 40 mins. After rounding, sheets were eased well off to the port side, but about 2 A.M. the wind came out from the north-east, and a gybe had to be made, and square-sails and square-topsails were set. When morning broke 'Guinevere' was out of sight of the other yachts; 'Dauntless' and 'Egeria' nearly abeam, the former about a mile and a half further to the eastward, 'Diane' and 'Mystère' a long way astern. 'Dauntless' and 'Egeria' had apparently run very evenly all through the night, and continued to do so to the end. The times of arrival at Cherbourg were: 'Guinevere,' 7 hrs. 1 min.; 'Egeria,' 9 hrs. 43 mins.; 'Dauntless,' 9 hrs. 53 mins.; 'Diane,' 10 hrs. 42 mins.; 'Mystère,' 10 hrs. 52 mins. 'Guinevere' won the Emperor's Cup, a beautiful work of art; the 'Egeria' the second prize and gold medal; and the 'Diane' the prize for French yachts. Those who had seen the 'Dauntless' in dock at Cowes were impressed with the idea that, from her small body, she would run and reach fast, but that she would not go to windward with our schooners. It was a surprise, therefore, that in the run back from the Nab she did not outpace the 'Egeria,' a vessel of so much smaller tonnage. The loss of the fore-topmast of the 'Dauntless' was to be regretted, but probably it did not affect the issue of the race, and as these two were never much more than a mile apart, and there was an average 7-knot breeze, the race was a fair test of their respective merits in smooth water. The successes of the 'Egeria' led to her being classed as a sort of standard or test vessel, and, taken all round, she was probably the fastest schooner we had, although in strong winds she was often overpowered by her larger rivals. Year after year vessels were built to beat her, but, kept up as she was in the best racing condition and well sailed by her skipper, John Woods, she proved, even to the end of her racing days, no easy nut to crack. A memorable race from the Nore to Dover at the beginning of the season of 1870 showed how good she was even in heavy weather. It was the Channel Match of the Royal Thames Yacht Club, a mixed race with fifteen entries, embracing some of the best vessels of the day, and including the schooners 'Cambria,' 188 tons; 'Pleiad,' 187 tons; 'Gwendolin,' 171; 'Egeria,' 152; 'Gloriana,' 133; and 'Flying Cloud,' 75. The 'Gwendolin' was a new and very handsome vessel, built by Camper and Nicholson for Major Ewing, her characteristic being considerably greater depth than any of her predecessors. The Nore to Dover course is one in which strong winds and heavy short seas may occasionally be looked for; and those who are in the habit of crossing the Channel know what a sea in it can be like. On this occasion there was a strong westerly to south-westerly wind, so that it was running and reaching to the North Sandhead Light, and from there a dead beat along the outside edge of the Goodwin Sands against a very heavy head sea. All were diving their bowsprits deeply into the seas, and taking in green water over their bows. The 'Pleiad' split the foot of her staysail and lowered it to reef; while this was being done she was struck by a sea, and two men were carried overboard. By great good luck one of them was washed on board again near the counter and saved, but the other poor fellow was never seen afterwards, although the 'Pleiad' remained about the spot for upwards of an hour. It was supposed that he was struck by one of the staysail sheet blocks and went to the bottom at once. The 'Cambria' was overdone with canvas, but was unable to reef, owing to something having gone wrong with her peak-halliard blocks. The 'Egeria,' which had wisely started with a reefed mainsail, also reefed her foresail and staysail, and went faster for it, riding over the waves in a style which astonished some old salts who were sailing in her. 'Cambria' passed 'Egeria' in Dover Bay, but could not save her time. Seven only out of the fifteen starters crossed the winning line, in the following order: 'Cambria,' 'Oimara,' 'Egeria,' 'Julia,' 'Rose of Devon,' 'Gwendolin,' and 'Fiona.' 'Egeria' won the first prize, taking her time from the 'Cambria,' and 'Julia' the second prize, taking her time from 'Oimara.' The sea was exceptionally heavy off the South Foreland, and the casualties were numerous, seven bowsprits having been either broken short off or sprung, including those of 'Oimara,' 'Egeria,' 'Rose of Devon,' and 'Fiona.' 'Egeria,' when staying to go off round the mark-boat, was met by a very big comber which reared her nearly on end, and it was doubtful for some seconds whether she would pay off or miss stays with some risk of being carried against the pier-head. All agreed that the day had been one of the heaviest in their experience. Two of the American schooners, the 'Dauntless' and 'Sappho,' were in our waters during the early part of the season, and in order to do honour to them, and to give them an opportunity of testing their speed against some of the fastest of our English schooners, as well as to encourage friendly competition between English and American yachts, H.R.H. the Prince of Wales liberally offered a cup to be sailed for by English and American schooners of 100 tons and upwards, on terms and conditions to be arranged by the Royal Yacht Squadron. The Sailing Committee of the Squadron decided that it should be a Challenge Cup, not to become the property of any yacht-owner unless won by him three times, though not necessarily with the same vessel. The course was to be from Cowes round the Shambles Lightship off Portland, and thence round the south side of the Isle of Wight and the Nab Lightship, back to Cowes, about 120 miles. The first race was fixed for June 22, but as it did not suit the convenience of the owners of either the 'Sappho' or 'Dauntless' to remain for it, the race was postponed until the Cowes week, and was sailed on August 5. 'Guinevere,' 295 tons; 'Shark,' 201; 'Pleiad,' 185; 'Gwendolin,' 182; and 'Egeria,' 152, were entered. They were started at 4 o'clock in the afternoon in a nice topsail breeze with the wind W.S.W., which made the race a dead beat all the way to the Shambles. There was some pretty turning to windward down to the Needles; but, as the chronicler of the day remarked, the race soon resolved itself into contests between 'Guinevere' and 'Egeria,' and between 'Pleiad' and 'Gwendolin'; 'Shark,' which had not adopted the running bowsprit, being left far astern. 'Guinevere' passed the Needles first, with 'Egeria' close in her wake, 'Gwendolin' and 'Pleiad' being about 10 min. behind in the order named. Outside the Needles there was a jump of a sea, and the two leaders drew still further away from their competitors. The night was fine, with a clear sky, and so far the breeze held true and strong. The Shambles Lightship was rounded by the 'Guinevere' at 11.20, with 'Egeria' close up to her, then 'Pleiad,' 'Gwendolin,' and 'Shark.' After this it was a run of forty miles to St. Catherine's Point, and as the tide had just turned to the eastward a speedy passage home was anticipated. But oh, the glorious uncertainties of yachting! The wind fell, and 'Guinevere' did not pass St. Catherine's until 6 o'clock the next morning, about three-quarters of a mile ahead of 'Egeria,' and from four to five miles ahead of 'Pleiad' and 'Gwendolin.' Off St. Catherine's they met the ebb tide, and as the wind was light and dead aft the progress to the Nab was slow. With varying luck in wooing the gentle breezes, these two rounded the Nab Lightship together about half-past 10 o'clock; 'Pleiad' and 'Gwendolin,' bringing up a much stronger breeze, were rapidly overhauling them. After rounding, it became a close haul, and 'Guinevere' and 'Egeria' still had the wind very light while the others were rejoicing in a breeze, and at the Noman the 'Pleiad' was not more than a mile astern. This state of things, trying to the patience of the leaders, exhilarating and enjoyable to the others, continued until they were off Ryde, when, welcome sight! a breeze from the southward was seen curling the surface of the water. All hands were immediately at work trimming the sails for the new wind, which carried the yachts past Osborne and through Cowes Roads at a spanking pace; the stately 'Guinevere' leading, the beautiful 'Egeria' closely following her, and the fine schooners 'Pleiad' and 'Gwendolin' coming in soon after them. The official timing was 'Guinevere,' 1 hr. 17 mins. 1 sec.; 'Egeria,' 1 hr. 20 mins. 20 secs.; 'Pleiad,' 1 hr. 26 mins. 34 secs.; 'Gwendolin,' 1 hr. 35 mins. 24 secs. 'Egeria' was thus by time the first winner of the Prince of Wales Challenge Cup. It was a curious coincidence in so long a race that 'Guinevere' and 'Egeria' rounded all the principal points--Needles, Shambles, Nab, and winning flag-boat--almost together. The schooners continued well to hold their own against the cutters and yawls in the regattas of the season. The records of this year would be incomplete without some account of the races of the 'Cambria' with the American schooner yachts. After much correspondence a series of three races were arranged to take place in May between the 'Cambria' and the 'Sappho,' then owned by Mr. Douglas, without time allowance. The first race was to be a beat of sixty miles to windward, and it was sailed on May 10. The yachts were towed out to the Nab, and as the wind, a light breeze, was then south-east, they were instructed to sail sixty miles to windward on that course, which would bring them to a point in mid-channel about twenty-eight miles south of Beachy Head. They were started at 8.30, and when round the Owers worked eastward, not very far off the Sussex shore, 'Sappho' quickly showing herself to be the faster vessel. Off Brighton she was about two miles ahead of her opponent, and when they tacked to the southward off Newhaven, she had considerably increased her lead. As they stood off, the wind freshened and went round to the west of south, and with eased sheets they were able to fetch the terminal point where the steamer ought to have been; but, by an unfortunate mistake, it was not in position. The 'Sappho' covered the point about 6.30 P.M., full five miles ahead of the 'Cambria,' and won the race, having, it was computed, sailed about 89 miles in the ten hours. The second race was on May 14. It was agreed by the umpires and referee, with the consent of the owners, that the course, on this occasion, should be to a fixed point, provided one could be obtained not more than two points off the direction from which the wind was blowing, so as to give a beat to windward. The morning broke with a strong W.S.W. wind, and every prospect of its increasing to a gale, as it had done the previous day. The yachts had two reefs in their mainsails, and other sails snugged down to correspond. Here was 'Cambria's' chance, a strong wind and heavy sea; but unfortunately when the signal to start was made she refused to go, on the ground that the fixed point decided on Cherbourg breakwater--was more than two points off the direction of the wind. The umpires and referee were, however, of opinion that Cherbourg breakwater, when fixed upon, complied with the conditions, and, moreover, that it would have been impossible in such weather to bring up a steamer out at sea, so after notice to Mr. Ashbury the 'Sappho' was allowed to sail over the course, and the second race was given in her favour. The third race was sailed over a triangular course, from the Nab round a steamer about eight miles off St. Catherine's, thence eastwardly to another steamer and home to the Nab, about sixty miles in all. It was a beat along the island shore to the first mark, and in the short turnings with a light wind the 'Cambria' got rather the better of her rival, but the 'Sappho' by good handling managed to round the steamer a few minutes ahead of her. They then had the wind free, but it died away almost entirely; the 'Sappho,' however, managed to scrape round the second steamer, and completed the race about 9 o'clock in the evening, thus winning all the three races. The 'Cambria,' a long way astern, signalled to the steamer to come and tow her in. The 'Sappho' had been altered in various ways since she sailed the match round the island in 1868, and was obviously a very much improved vessel, the 'Cambria' being no match for her except in short turnings to windward. On July 4 the 'Cambria' and the 'Dauntless' started for a race across the Atlantic to New York. The 'Cambria' took the northern passage, going as far north as latitude 55°; the 'Dauntless' a more southerly and a straighter course. The 'Cambria' passed the Sandy Hook Lightship a few hours before the 'Dauntless,' and won the race, an account of which, with a chart of the courses sailed, will be found in the 'Field' of August 13 and 27, 1870. The 'Dauntless' unfortunately lost two men, who were swept off the jibboom when endeavouring to take in the flying jib, and this delayed her for some hours. Such a race was obviously but a poor test of the relative speed of the two yachts, as throughout they were sailing under different conditions, and it was curious under these circumstances that they should have reached their destination so nearly together. [Illustration: Mr. Ashbury's 'Cambria,' 188 tons, beating 'Dauntless,' 321 tons, 1870 race.] The race for the America Cup, in which the 'Cambria' took part, was sailed on Monday, August 8, in New York harbour. She had seventeen competitors, all the best schooners of the New York Yacht Club, of sizes varying from 262 down to 83 tons, N.Y.Y.C. measurement; the 'Cambria' being rated at 227 tons. The course was through the Narrows, round Sandy Hook Lightship, and return. The race was not a satisfactory one, as in the narrow waters she was much hampered by other vessels, with one of which she came into collision, carrying away a fore-port shroud and fore-topmast backstay, and springing the port arm of her fore-crosstrees. Later on she also carried away her fore-topmast, losing all chance of even a good place. The race was won by the 'Magic,' a small schooner of 93 tons, the 'Cambria' being eighth, and the Cup therefore remained in the possession of the New York Yacht Club. Even if nothing had gone wrong with the 'Cambria,' pitted as she was against seventeen other vessels, her chance of winning the Cup would necessarily have been small. In 1871 Mr. Ashbury, who was determined to have another try for the America Cup, brought out the 'Livonia' schooner, of 265 tons. She was built for him by Michael Ratsey of Cowes, with the express object of challenging for the Cup. She made her first appearance in the three Thames River matches, one of which she won, but was beaten in the other two by the 'Egeria,' and does not seem to have won again during the season. She, however, sailed a very close and interesting match with the 'Aline' for the Prince of Wales Cup, the 'Egeria,' the holder of the cup not competing, owing to a misunderstanding. The race was started under way at 1 P.M. on Friday, August 4. The wind was strong from the north-west, with an ebb tide, and smooth water inside the Needles. Each had whole lower sails set, but no topsails. 'Livonia' was a little to windward of the 'Aline,' and if the wind held it would be a beat all the way to the Shambles Lightship. Soon after the start both set jib-headed main-topsails, but 'Livonia,' obviously the more tender of the two, was rather overdone with canvas, and in the squalls had plenty of water in her lee scuppers. They passed out through the Needles passage together, 'Livonia' leading by about a cable's length. Outside there was more wind, with a good deal of sea, which did not seem to suit the 'Livonia,' for the 'Aline' slowly but steadily gained, and tried to pass her to windward, but this was denied. After a quarter of an hour's jockeying the 'Aline' suddenly eased her sheets a trifle, put her helm up, and shot through the other's lee. Off Darleston they took in topsails and housed topmasts. They had a roughish time of it in St. Alban's race, 'Aline' going the more easily through the seas. The Shambles Light was weathered by 'Aline' at 6.18, and by 'Livonia' a minute afterwards. 'Gybe oh! Up topsails and square-sails,' was then the order of the day, and with the young flood tide in their favour they made quick tracks homewards. About seven o'clock the 'Aline' carried away her square-sail-yard, which might have seriously damaged her chance of winning, but fortunately for her the wind about the same time became so much more northerly that 'Livonia' had to take in her square-sail also. Off Darleston the wind backed to the old quarter N.W. by W., and 'Livonia' at once got up her square-sail again and gradually lessened the distance, previously about half a mile, between herself and the 'Aline.' They rounded St. Catherine's at ten o'clock, the 'Aline' being then about half a mile astern. When round, they came again upon even terms, as 'Livonia' had to luff and to lower her square-sail. The wind continued strong, and in the reach to the Nab they tore along at great speed. Nearing the Nab both prepared for the beat back to Cowes, and took in fore-topsails and main-topmast staysails; 'Aline' also took in her main topsail. 'Livonia' passed the Nab at 11 o'clock, 4 mins. ahead of the 'Aline,' when sheets were hauled taut in all round for the beat to windward. 'Aline' was rather the quicker in stays, and, as she kept gaining little, by little she was close up to 'Livonia' by the time they had reached the Stourbridge Shoal. 'Aline' continued to work the Island shore by short boards, but 'Livonia' made one or two longer tacks over to the north shore, and when they again neared each other off Osborne, 'Aline' just cleared her rival to windward, immediately went round, and planted herself on her opponent's weather-bow. This was fatal to 'Livonia's' chance, even of the honour of coming in first, for 'Aline' had her pinned and never let her go in the few more tacks which were made before they crossed the winning line, 'Aline' at 1.45 A.M., and 'Livonia' a minute and a half later. It was a remarkably closely contested and fast-sailed race, the wind being strong, and the tide favourable both ways. The time occupied was 12-3/4 hrs., and the length of course was 120 miles; but as it was a beat all the way to the Shambles, and again from the Nab to Cowes, the distance actually sailed was considerably greater, and the average speed over the bottom could not have been less than 11 knots an hour, which was exceptionally fast. The performance of 'Livonia,' however, was disappointing, as it was considered that, being so much the larger vessel, and built expressly for speed, she ought in such a wind and sea to have easily given the 'Aline' a fair and square beating all round. Her defeat by the 'Aline' led to the insertion of the following amusing couplet in 'Punch':-- Oh! 'Livonia,' I wouldn't own yer Now I've seen the grand 'Aline.' Though a more beamy vessel than the 'Aline,' she had comparatively small displacement, and did not carry her canvas so well. The result of the race did not augur favourably for her success in America, and there was little chance of her winning the America Cup unless she could be given more canvas, with an increased weight of ballast placed lower down to enable her to carry it. Soon after the race for the Prince of Wales Cup, the 'Livonia' went to New York to compete for the cup, and had a very boisterous passage across the Atlantic, but proved a first-rate sea-boat, and arrived safely without material damage. Subsequently to the race by the 'Cambria' in 1870 against seventeen American schooners, the New York Yacht Club, owing to representations made by the surviving donor of the cup, had decided that, in accordance with the intention of the deed of gift, only one vessel should in future matches compete against the challenger; but they reserved the power to select the defender of the cup on the morning of the race, according to the state of the weather, a light-weather vessel for a light day, a more powerful vessel if the wind was strong. This was so manifestly giving an undue advantage to the holders of the cup that it was surprising such good sportsmen as the Americans should not have seen the one-sidedness of the reservation. After some not very satisfactory correspondence with the New York Yacht Club, it was ultimately arranged that there should be five matches, the Club naming four yachts from which to select the defender of the cup in each match; namely, the 'Sappho' and 'Dauntless,' keel boats, and the 'Palmer' and 'Columbia,' centreboard schooners. [Illustration: 'Dauntless,' N.Y.Y.C, 268 tons, 1871] The first match was sailed on Monday, October 16, over what was known as the New York Yacht Club course, from the head of the Narrows round the S.W. Spit Buoy and Sandy Hook Lightship, and return, about 36 miles. The wind being very light from the N.W., the Club selected the 'Columbia,' a light-weather centreboarder, as 'Livonia's' opponent. The tide had just begun to ebb when the yachts were started at 10.40. There were not so many steamers or other vessels out as on the occasion when the 'Cambria' raced. It was a run nearly all the way to the Lightship, and in the light airs the 'Columbia,' drawing little water with her centreboard up, slipped away from the 'Livonia' and rounded the Lightship about 15 mins. ahead of her. There they came on a wind, and it was a beat as far as the Spit Buoy, about 8-1/2 miles. 'Columbia' both weathered and fore-reached 'Livonia,' and at the Spit Buoy led by 29 mins. After rounding the buoy the wind became abeam and freshened for a short time, but died away again in the Narrows. The 'Columbia' completed and won the race about 5 o'clock, beating 'Livonia' by 25 mins. The second race was on the following Wednesday, Oct. 18, and the 'Columbia' was again selected to defend the cup. There was a good breeze from the W.N.W., and the course was intended to be 20 miles to leeward from Sandy Hook Lightship, and return; but the Committee, contemplating a change of wind, decided to send the steamer, which was to mark the turning point, 20 miles E.N.E. instead of E.S.E., with the result that there was no beating to windward either going or returning. There was also a misunderstanding as to the way in which the turning mark was to be rounded. The point was not referred to in the sailing instructions, but as the usual practice in American waters was to leave the turning marks on the starboard hand, and this had been done in rounding Sandy Hook Lightship in the previous race, no doubt was felt on board the 'Livonia' that the same course was to be followed. The owner of the 'Columbia,' however, more wary, put the question to the Committee, and was informed in reply that he might round as he pleased; but this instruction was not given to the 'Livonia,' and in consequence 'Livonia' gybed, and 'Columbia' stayed round the steamer, the latter gaining thereby a considerable advantage. In the broad reach out the 'Livonia' gained a little and rounded the steamer nearly 2 mins. ahead of 'Columbia,' but from the fact that the former rounded to leeward, and the latter to windward, 'Columbia' quickly became the leading vessel. After rounding they were nearly close hauled, and in consequence felt the wind more, and all flying kites were taken in. On the way home they were struck by a squall, 'Columbia' had to lower her foresail, and 'Livonia' was a good deal pressed; but it soon passed over, and they were able to hold their reach without a tack back to the starting line, 'Columbia' arriving at 3 hrs. 7 mins., 3 mins. ahead of 'Livonia.' Mr. Ashbury protested against the race being given in favour of 'Columbia' on the ground that she had rounded the steamer on the wrong side, but the Committee disallowed the protest. The third race was sailed on Friday, October 20, over the New York Yacht Club course. The wind was fresh from W.S.W., blowing pretty straight up the Narrows. The Committee had some difficulty in selecting their representative vessel. The 'Dauntless' had been named, but Mr. Gordon Bennett declined to sail owing to some mishap which had befallen her. The 'Palmer' and 'Sappho' were also disabled, and the 'Columbia' had started the hounds of her foremast; the Committee were therefore considering whether the 'Livonia' should be allowed a sail over alone, when Mr. Osgood, rather than that such should be the case, said he would again start the 'Columbia,' but it was not until half-past one that the vessels were ready and given the signal to go. At this time the wind was strong, and they were able to lay their course close hauled through the Narrows. The 'Livonia' rounded the S. W. Spit buoy 6 mins. before the 'Columbia,' and then stood away with freed sheets for the Lightship, which was tacked round at 3 hrs. 20 mins. 30 secs., about the same distance separating the two vessels. Coming back, something went wrong with 'Columbia's' steering-wheel, the clew of her main-topmast staysail, foresheet, and her fore-gaff topsail split, and shortly after she lowered her mainsail and gave up, the 'Livonia' finishing the race alone at 5 hrs. 18 mins., her first win. The fourth match was against the 'Sappho,' 20 miles to windward from Sandy Hook Lightship, and return. The wind was fresh from S.S.E. The yachts were started at twelve o'clock, and 'Sappho' beat the 'Livonia' as easily as she had done the 'Cambria' in our waters in 1870, rounding the turning point 27 mins. ahead of her, and rather increasing her lead in the run home, eventually winning by over half an hour. The fifth and last match was again against the 'Sappho,' over the inside course. There was a good topsail breeze from the S.W. which gave them a reach through the Narrows to the S.W. Spit Buoy, and a run from there to the Lightship. 'Livonia' got the start of the big vessel, and at one time was about half a mile ahead, but the 'Sappho' was not long in overhauling her, and rounded the Lightship 12 mins. ahead. In the beat back to the Spit Buoy, and in the reach from there home, the 'Sappho' continued to gain, and ended the race 26 mins. ahead of 'Livonia.' The result of the matches was, therefore, that the America Cup remained in the possession of the New York Yacht Club. This was the last occasion on which an English schooner competed for the cup, though there have since been several contests for it by English cutters. There was another good race for the Prince of Wales's Cup the next year, 1872, in which the following yachts took part: the 'Livonia,' 265 tons; 'Aline,' 215; 'Gwendolin,' 179; and 'Egeria,' 152, schooners, and the 'Dauntless,' yawl, 162 tons. They were started at 2 o'clock, with a good topsail breeze from the W.S.W., and an ebb tide. The 'Gwendolin' had been altered and fined at both ends, and was much improved this year. She and 'Egeria' were first off, and they made a close race of it out to the Needles. There was a pretty little bit of sailing between them off Newtown; both were standing in to the Island shore, 'Gwendolin' to windward, 'Egeria' a little ahead. The latter hailed for water, and was so much more nimble in coming round, that she managed to get on 'Gwendolin's' weather before she had gathered way, and gave her such a complete blanketing as left her almost in irons. This left 'Egeria' the lead, and she was first to pass through the Needles, with the others not far astern. All but 'Aline' and 'Dauntless' held on towards Swanage; these two stood off from the land on the other tack, but lost a good deal by doing so, as the wind chopped round to the southward, enabling all to lay their course easily for the Shambles. 'Gwendolin' passed 'Egeria' off Darleston Head, and 'Livonia' did the same in the lumpy water off St. Alban's. As they neared the Shambles the wind went further round to S.S.E., and sheets were eased well off. 'Gwendolin' luffed round the Lightship at 6 hrs. 33 mins., closely followed by 'Livonia' at 6 hrs. 34 mins., 'Egeria' 6 hrs. 39 mins., 'Aline' 6 hrs. 42 mins., and 'Dauntless' 6 hrs. 47 mins. It then became a close haul for St. Catherine's, but as the breeze kept steadily increasing in strength and the ebb tide was pretty well done, the yachts travelled fast through the water. The 'Aline' collared the 'Egeria' before they reached the Needles, but all were surprised at the speed of the smaller ship in such a breeze and sea. The night closed in very dark, and the wind continued to freshen, backing round again when the yachts were crossing Scratchell's Bay to the west of south, which admitted of the sheets being eased considerably. Off St. Catherine's they were caught in a heavy squall, and 'Egeria' lost her main-topmast, and of course supposed that her chances of the race were gone; but she kept on, and as after rounding the point the wind became more aft, the wreckage was got in and secured. 'Livonia' in the run to the Nab had got a good lead of 'Gwendolin' and 'Aline,' but when within about two miles of the Nab she also came to grief like the 'Egeria,' her main-topmast going, and in its fall damaging the gaff. She hauled round the Nab at 11 hrs. 20 mins., and it was then a reach to Cowes with a beam wind so strong that she made very rapid progress, notwithstanding her crippled state. The night was so dark that the yachts could not see each other, but 'Gwendolin' was supposed to have passed 'Livonia' off Ryde. The times of arrival were: 'Gwendolin,' 12 hrs. 38 mins. 30 secs.; 'Livonia,' 12 hrs. 40 mins.; 'Aline,' 12 hrs. 42 mins.; 'Egeria,' 12 hrs. 50 mins.; and 'Dauntless,' 1 hr. 20 mins. In the morning it was reported that 'Gwendolin' had run down the mark-boat, and was thereby disqualified, and that as 'Egeria' had saved her time from 'Livonia' and 'Aline,' she was again the winner of the cup. Major Ewing, however, represented that, as the lesser of two evils, he had run down the mark-boat in order to avoid a gig which was bringing ladies and others out from the Squadron Ball to the American yacht 'Sappho.' The Squadron considered that under the circumstances the 'Gwendolin' ought not to be disqualified, and Major Ewing accordingly became the third holder of the cup. The race was sailed in even a shorter time than that of the previous year; but this was to be expected, as the conditions were quite as favourable as to tide and strength of wind, with less turning to windward, so that the yachts had not to sail over so long a distance. The 'Egeria' won the Queen's Cup at Cowes, but in the races of the Royal Victoria Yacht Club the schooners found a strong opponent in the 'Corisande,' yawl, 140 tons, built by Michael Ratsey of Cowes, for Mr. John Richardson, which beat them in the races both for the Commodore's and the Vice-Commodore's Cups. In those days it was the practice to class schooners and yawls together simply from the fact that both had two masts, and without reference to their relative sailing powers. In order to give the yawl as large a mainsail as possible, the mizen was placed at the extreme end of the counter, the yawl became in fact a cutter with a short boom, and like the cutter was superior to the schooner in going to windward and running, though not in reaching with the wind abeam. In 1873 another yawl appeared which was also destined to prove a thorn in the side of the schooners, namely the 'Florinda,' 140 tons, built by Camper and Nicholson for Mr. Lessop. She was a very successful vessel, and a worthy rival of the 'Corisande,' and subsequently of Mr. Rowley's 'Latona,' 160 tons, and other fast yawls. These yawls took many prizes from the schooners in the schooner and yawl races, as well as in the mixed matches. The 'Kriemhilda' cutter, 105 tons, built by Michael Ratsey and brought out by Count Batthyany in the latter part of last season, also made her mark this year, beating the old 'Arrow.' She was the first material advance both in size and speed in the cutter class, and with the improved yawls made it hot work for the schooners in the mixed races. [Illustration: 'EGERIA' _153 tons. (F. Mulholland, Esq.) Built by Wanhill, 1865_. 'OIMARA' _163 tons. 1867_.] In the schooner racing the contests were very keen, but the most successful vessels were the 'Egeria,' 152, and 'Pantomime,' 140. The latter had passed into the hands of Mr. F. Starkey, and with Captain John Herbert at the helm was hard to beat. The race this year round the Shambles for the Prince of Wales's Challenge Cup was practically a match between the 'Morna,' 257, and 'Egeria,' 152 tons. The 'Shark,' 201, was also entered, but had no chance. The 'Morna' was built in the early part of the year by Camper and Nicholson for Mr. W. Houldsworth, and was intended, as the Americans say, to 'lick creation,' but though a very fine vessel she did not turn out a success as a racer. They were started at 8 A.M. on August 9, the weather being all that could be desired for pleasant sailing, fine and bright with a nice topsail breeze from the westward. 'Egeria' kept ahead of the 'Morna' in the beat to the Needles, which she passed at 11 o'clock, with 'Morna' about a quarter of a mile astern. Outside the wind was fresher from the S.W., with a gentle swell. Here was a chance for the big vessel, but she did not improve her position, and when they cross-tacked off Darleston Head she was some two miles to the bad, with 'Shark' about a mile astern of her. As they progressed the wind fell lighter, and when within a short distance of the Shambles they were enveloped in a fog. Beating to windward in a fog was not an easy or a pleasant task; however, all managed without much difficulty to pick up the Lightship, which was rounded by 'Egeria' about 3.45, when she received the welcome news that she was the first vessel; 'Morna' rounded about a quarter of an hour, and 'Shark' half an hour, after. Shortly afterwards the fog lifted a little and the competitors were able to make out their respective positions, but it soon returned and they were again lost to sight. The wind being aft and very light, little progress was made, and at 10 o'clock, when about six miles from St. Catherine's, the tide again turned to the westward. It now became very doubtful whether the progress over the ground was ahead or astern, so the hand-lead was dropped to the bottom, and quickly showed that it was time to anchor, and kedges were accordingly let go. The full moon, bright and clear, had, as the sailors expressed it, squandered the fog; the night was beautifully fine and the sea smooth as glass. All quietly turned in to await events, leaving a trusty watch on deck. At 4 o'clock A.M. the tide began to flow and kedges were hauled in, but there was scarcely a breath of air, and drift, drift was all that could be done. However, about 8 o'clock a light breeze came out from the N.E., which 'Egeria,' being most to the eastward, was the first to feel, and so considerably increased her lead. The Nab was rounded by the 'Egeria' at a little past 9 A.M. and by the 'Morna' at 9.50, 'Shark' a long way astern. From the Nab to Cowes the wind continued very light and variable, with the sun scorchingly hot, but with a strong tide in their favour they reached and were timed at Cowes: 'Egeria,' 12 hrs. 3 mins. 30 secs., and 'Morna,' 1 hr., the former becoming for the second time the holder of the cup. In 1874 three new schooners of heavy metal appeared upon the scene--the 'Cetonia,' 203 tons, built by Michael Ratsey for Mr. William Turner; the 'Corinne,' 162, by the same builder, for Mr. Nicholas Wood; and the 'Seabelle,' 142, built by John Harvey at Wivenhoe for Mr. Harry Taylor. They were all fast vessels, and with such a splendid fleet of schooners as 'Morna,' 257 tons; 'Modwena,' 223; 'Aline,' 215; 'Cetonia,' 203; 'Gwendolin,' 182; 'Corinne,' 162; 'Egeria,' 152; 'Pantomime,' 142; and 'Seabelle,' 142, besides others, schooner racing continued at its zenith. 'Guinevere' was not raced this year. It would be difficult to say with certainty which was the fastest vessel without a much more critical examination and record of their respective merits than it is the object of this chapter to give; but, on the whole, probably the 'Cetonia' would have been considered to have carried off the palm. Challenge cups are not popular with English yachtsmen, and some satisfaction was felt when the 'Egeria' won the Prince of Wales's Challenge Cup for the third time, thus making it the absolute property of her owner, Mr. J. Mulholland, M.P. The race had an interest of its own, from the fact that for the first time an American yacht, the 'Enchantress,' 329 tons, the property of Mr. Lubat, competed for it. Mr. Fish, the well-known American yacht-builder, had been brought over to superintend the preparation of the yacht for the contest. The entries were 'Enchantress,' 'Egeria,' and 'Shark.' The Cowes week this year was characterised by blustering winds and rain. The 'Egeria' had sailed for the Town Cup on the Wednesday, and as the weather was bad, and she had got everything soaked, the race was postponed by consent from Thursday until Friday, the 7th, to give her a chance of drying her sails. The morning broke with a strong S.W. wind, and as 'Egeria's' skipper knew well what he was to expect in the Channel, he reefed mainsail and bowsprit, and housed topmasts. Although the 'Enchantress' had to allow the 'Egeria' a lot of time, being more than double her tonnage, it was felt on board the latter that, if the 'Enchantress' got round the Shambles first, she would in all probability reach clean away and save her time: therefore that 'Egeria's' chance was to beat her adversary in the turn to windward, and so if possible increase the time she would have to receive from the Shambles home. The race was to be started at 6 A.M., and 'Egeria' was early under way, prepared, with such a wind, which kept increasing every minute, for a hard fight. To the great satisfaction of those on board 'Egeria,' the 'Enchantress' was observed soon after coming down with a cloud of canvas over her. 'Hurrah!' was the word; 'something must go before long!' 'Egeria' gained five minutes at the start, and as in coming round after the first board on the Calshot shore her opponent got in irons, she gained full another five minutes. They had not made many tacks before the man who was looking out on 'Egeria's' lee side cried, 'There goes "Enchantress's" jibboom!' which made 'Egeria's' crew feel that, although the weather was getting more stormy and dull, their prospects had considerably brightened. Without her jibboom 'Enchantress' was no match for 'Egeria' in the beat to windward, and when the latter was well outside the Needles, and had passed the Shingles Buoy, 'Enchantress' had hardly reached Hurst Castle. Just before she got opposite Yarmouth, 'Egeria's' second jib was blown clean out of the bolt-rope. This will give some idea of the strength of the wind, which made the sea outside exceedingly heavy. 'Egeria' was standing in for Christchurch Bay with the view of smoothing the water, when she observed that the 'Enchantress' was put before the wind, and turned back for Cowes, having carried away her forestay. Her competitor being placed _hors de combat_, 'Egeria' was immediately put under snug canvas, and sailed easily until she rounded the Shambles Lightship at 4 o'clock. The run and reach home to Cowes round the Island were comparatively easy sailing, and she showed her blue light passing the Squadron Castle at 11 hrs. 50 mins., thus winning the cup for the third time. [Illustration: 'SEABELLE' _153 tons. (M. F. Taylor, Esq.) Built by Harvey, 1874._] A race was sailed at the beginning of the season of 1875 between the two schooners 'Egeria' and 'Seabelle,' in a stronger wind than had probably ever been experienced in a race on the Thames. It blew a gale from the S.W.; the ground tackle which had been put down in the Lower Hope for the yachts to start from would not hold them. 'Egeria' dropped her anchor, and 'Seabelle' got under canvas; the others all drifted, got up head-sails and sailed away, and the steamer carrying the Committee of the Royal London Yacht Club, which gave the prize, did not make its appearance. What was to be done? 'Seabelle' sailed close by the 'Egeria,' and asked Mr. Mulholland if he would start under way. The reply was, 'Yes, but stay round the Mouse instead of gybing.' 'Egeria' had previously got both her topmasts on deck, and all hands were at once at work getting up the sails, two reefs in the mainsail, reefed foresail, reefed staysail, and small jib. 'Seabelle' was also under reduced canvas, and had her fore-topmast on deck, main-topmast being only housed. The start was a very even and fair one. Soon afterwards the Club steamer was observed in the distance, but she had little chance of catching the racers before they reached the Mouse. They tore away before the wind without attempting to set any additional sail, and as they stayed round the Mouse got in sheets for the beat back, 'Egeria' with a lead of about 2 mins. 'Seabelle' was a trifle the quicker in rounding, but she could not prevent 'Egeria' getting on her weather, and it was a case of tack and tack for at least twenty tacks, 'Seabelle' doing all she knew by feints and otherwise to shake off her rival, and 'Egeria' doing her best to get sufficiently ahead to properly smother 'Seabelle,' which she eventually succeeded in doing, and then reached away from her, increasing her lead little by little every tack. Presently the wind southerned, and they were able to start sheets for a long reach to the Lower Hope, through which they had another beat, but were able to lay their course up Gravesend Reach, crossing the winning line, 'Egeria' at 5 hrs. 31 mins. 20 secs., and 'Seabelle' at 5 hrs. 37 mins. 52 secs. 'Egeria,' having to allow 'Seabelle' about five minutes, saved her time by a minute and a half, and won the 100_l._ prize, a very beautifully designed silver salver. The 'Egeria' had been altered and given more stability in the early part of the year, without which she might not have won in so strong a wind against so good and powerful a vessel as the 'Seabelle.' In 1876 the 'Phantom,' 176 tons, was built for Mr. Arthur Wilkinson, from designs by Mr. Weymouth. She was a handsome, roomy vessel, and was entered for a few races in 1876 and 1877, but as a racer was not a success. Mr. C. Thellusson also brought out the 'Boadicea,' 378 tons, this year. She was built by Camper and Nicholson, but was intended for a cruiser rather than a racer, though she raced occasionally. One of the races in which she sailed was the memorable one from Torquay round the Eddystone and return, when the weather was so tempestuous and the seas so steep and heavy, that even 'Boadicea' and 'Latona' were compelled to run for shelter under the Start headland, and it was some hours before they were able to continue the race. 'Boadicea' beat the 'Latona' by two hours. Their competitors, unable to face the weather, were disabled, or retired very soon after they got round the Start and fairly into the Channel. The following year--1877--the 'Miranda,' 139 tons, was built by Harvey, of Wivenhoe, for Mr. G. E. Lampson, and with Lemon Cranfield in charge proved one of the fastest and most weatherly of the schooner fleet. Her specialities were that she had large displacement, with a fine run aft, a considerable weight of ballast in proportion to her tonnage, and the mainmast placed far forward, so as to increase the size of her mainsail, and make her as near an approach to a cutter as practicable. She was raced for several seasons, and frequently competed both in the schooner and mixed races, with varying results. In 1879 the schooner 'Fiona,' 150 tons, was built for Mr. E. Boutcher, the owner of the famous cutter of the same name; and the following year the 'Waterwitch,' 160 tons, was commissioned by Mr. E. Baring, afterwards Lord Revelstoke. Both were by the same builders, Camper and Nicholson. They did not race for long, but sufficiently to show that they were powerful and fast vessels, though they did not make any great reputation in the racing world. Schooner racing began to decline in the early eighties, and indeed the building and racing of all large yachts rapidly fell off, for the reason given in the early part of this chapter. But a race took place in 1887 which is worthy of record. [Illustration: RACING FLAGS. SCHOONERS, CUTTERS, YAWLS, 40's, 20's, 10's.] In commemoration of Her Majesty's Jubilee, the Royal Yacht Squadron gave large prizes to be raced for by schooners, cutters, and yawls. The match was open to all yachts above 30 tons, English and foreign, but no foreign yachts entered. The prizes were 500_l._ for the first vessel within her time allowance, 200_l._ for the second vessel of a different rig within her time, and 100_l._ for the winning vessel of the third rig. The course was from Cowes round the Nab Lightship, Cherbourg Breakwater, and the Eddystone Lighthouse, returning to Cowes round the south side of the Isle of Wight and the Nab Light, a distance of about 330 miles. The entries were:-- SCHOONERS Rating Owner Enchantress 281 General Owen Williams Aline 149 H.R.H. the Prince of Wales Cetonia 157 Sir Edward Guinness Egeria 118 Mr. John Mulholland CUTTERS Irex 93 Mr. John Jameson Lorna 90 Mr. S. Hope Morley Genesta 88 Sir Richard Sutton Moina 85 Captain Bainbridge, R.N. Sleuthhound 54 Lord Francis Cecil Arethusa 54 Mr. Stuart Lane YAWLS Atlantis --- Mr. L. M. Ames Dauntless (ketch) 108 Mr. F. L. Popham Anemone 58 Mr. E. Liddell Viking --- Earl of Caledon The ratings are those of the yachts under the new length and sail-area rule of measurement, which is altogether different to the old tonnage rule. The time allowances settled by the Royal Yacht Squadron were as follows:-- h. m. s. Irex 0 0 0 Lorna 0 4 57 Genesta 0 6 15 Enchantress 0 59 22 Sleuthhound 1 31 8 Cetonia 2 28 21 Aline 2 36 36 Moina 2 43 32 Egeria 3 13 50 Arethusa 4 15 10 Dauntless 5 29 21 Viking 5 43 6 Anemone 6 30 30 [Illustration: 'Cetonia,' 203 tons (now belonging to Lord Iveagh; 1892). Designed and built (1873) by M. E. Ratsey, Cowes, Isle of Wight.] The yachts were started at 10 o'clock on the morning of August 8 before a light W.S.W. breeze, making it a run to the Nab, which the cutters rounded about 2 hrs. after the start, some 10 mins. ahead of the schooners. The day being beautifully fine and the sea smooth, the sail across the Channel close hauled on the starboard tack was very enjoyable. The east end of Cherbourg Breakwater was rounded by the 'Irex' at 7.30, just at dinner-time, with 'Genesta' and 'Lorna' only a few minutes astern. Then followed 'Egeria' at 7.50 with 'Cetonia' in close attendance, and 'Moina' and 'Aline' respectively 16 and 35 mins. behind. The 'Irex,' as soon as she passed the west end of the breakwater, stood away close hauled for the English coast, and the other cutters followed her lead; but 'Egeria' and 'Cetonia' tacked to the westward along the French coast with the view of getting an easier tide when working to the westward, and it was not until about 11 P.M. that they started off to cross the Channel. The yachts had a nice breeze all night, and in the morning 'Irex' struck the English coast somewhere to the west of Portland. 'Egeria' found herself about 1-1/2 mile to windward and nearly abeam of 'Cetonia,' both heading a good deal further to the westward. Unfortunately 'Egeria' had to bear down upon 'Cetonia' to request Sir Edward Guinness to allow his steamer 'Ceto,' which was accompanying the race, to take one of the former's passengers, who had broken his arm by a fall, back to Cowes, which he very kindly did. This delayed 'Egeria' fully an hour, and more than lost her the advantage she had gained, but she picked it up again during the day. The weather throughout was fine and bright, but the wind very paltry. The yachts were widely scattered, and as there was a good deal of haze it was difficult to make each other out. 'Irex' did not get round the Eddystone until about 10 P.M., 'Egeria' and 'Cetonia' about 11.30, and the other two schooners some time afterwards. The next day the wind continued light, but the 'Irex' being lucky with the wind, managed to save the tide round all the headlands, and reached Cowes at 3 hrs. 51 mins., nearly 8 hrs. before any other vessel. 'Egeria' and 'Cetonia' made an exceedingly close race of it the whole day, never being as much as a gunshot apart. The wind had headed them when off the Isle of Wight, and several tacks had to be made after they passed Dunnose. The 'Egeria,' when making her last board off on the port tack to round the Nab, found she could not quite weather 'Cetonia,' and had to bear away under her stern. 'Cetonia' was also obliged to tack, and when they again crossed was in the same predicament, which put 'Egeria' round the Nab a minute or two before her. The 'Aline,' which had not been seen by the others for some time, had stood more out to sea, got a better wind, and, to the surprise of the others, rounded the Nab only a short distance astern of them. The run to Cowes was an exciting one, as they were all very evenly matched, but 'Egeria' managed to keep the pride of place and crossed the winning line at 1.15 A.M., 1 min. ahead of the 'Cetonia' and 6 mins. ahead of the 'Aline.' The 'Enchantress' arrived about 2 hrs. later. It was a curious sight to see the three schooners come in so close together after so long a race, and the fact of 'Egeria' and 'Cetonia' rounding the three principal points, Cherbourg Breakwater, the Eddystone, and the Nab, almost together was also remarkable. 'Egeria' of course thought she had won the schooner prize, but to the surprise of her owner he was told that the 'Dauntless' ketch had been classed with the schooners, and that, as she arrived at 2 hrs. 56 mins. within her time, she had been awarded the prize for the schooner rig. It was pointed out to the Sailing Committee that no intimation had been given that the 'Dauntless' was to sail as a schooner, that the race was sailed under the rules of the Yacht Racing Association, and that a recent decision had been given by the Council of that Association, that ketches were to be classed as yawls; but the Sailing Committee adhered to their decision, and declined to refer the question to the Association. The 'last of the schooners' was the 'Amphitrite,' 161 tons, by Camper and Nicholson, brought out in 1889 by Colonel Macgregor, but by that time schooner racing had practically ceased, and she only sailed in mixed races. Her performances in these, however, were so good that competent judges believed that, had schooner racing been in vogue, she would have been one of the fastest of the class. It may probably be considered that on the whole the 'Egeria' was the most successful of the schooners. She made her _début_ in 1865 in the race for the Queen's Cup at Cowes, beating the 'Aline,' the crack of the day, and her last race was sailed in 1889. She has had a longer career than any other schooner, won seven Queen's Cups at Cowes, and about 70 other cups and prizes, each of which has an interesting story of its own. The writer sailed in many of the races described, and of these the accounts are chiefly from personal recollection; but he must not conclude without recognising the admirable descriptions of the races published in the 'Field,' which has done so much to encourage and improve yacht racing. CHAPTER VII THE RACING RULES AND THE RULES OF RATING By 'THALASSA' PART I. THE RACING RULES We race yachts in home waters under the rules of the Yacht Racing Association. For a long time yacht racing was conducted without any central authority or court of appeal, and the difficulties which arose in consequence enabled a few racing owners to start the Association ('For the promotion of the interests of yacht racing,'--General Rule 1) in the year 1875; since which it has gradually and surely increased its authority until, at the present time, it is acknowledged by clubs and owners alike as the ruler of the sport, owing much to the energy and ability of Mr. Dixon Kemp, the secretary of the Association, and to the solid work done by many of the older councillors, among whom should be specially mentioned the Marquis of Exeter, Sir George Lampson, Bart., Sir William Forwood, Sir George Leach, K.C.B., Major Frank Willan, Colonel Fitzroy Clayton, Major Percy Hewitt, Mr. E. R. Tatchell, Mr. F. Cox, Mr. A. Manning, and, last but not least, Captain J. W. Hughes, who, with Prince Batthyany Strattmann, took a most active part in starting the Association. The qualification for the Association embraces 'the owners of racing yachts, and such other gentlemen interested in yacht racing as the Council may elect'; ... 'also the representatives appointed by recognised yacht clubs' (General Rule 2). It is astonishing to find, by an examination of the list of members, how few racing owners belong to the Association and how many old cruisers and steam-whistlers show their active interest in the sport of yacht racing by paying two guineas a year to support the court of appeal. We touch our caps to them for doing so--but pray them to allow the men actually engaged in the sport to settle the details as far as possible. Indeed, it would appear desirable that the Council should be mainly composed of racing owners, and that each class of racing yacht should be represented, say, by two councillors. Thus--two for racing cruisers of the 'Columbine' type, two for the large class of racers, two for each Y.R.A. class, and two for each of the 'Minima' classes (1 and 1/2-raters), or 18 in all. The other six members of the Council might with advantage be selected from the appointed representatives of the yacht clubs (General Rule 3). At present the Council is practically a self-elected body, General Rule 4 stating that 'vacancies occurring between the annual meetings _shall_ be filled by the Council.' Evidently the word 'shall' should be replaced by _may_. Four councillors retire annually by rotation (General Rule 4), but are eligible for re-election, and changes seldom occur from this cause, except through compulsory retirement due to non-attendance for an entire year. Quite right; when you have a good man keep him if you can; but the self-election clause is wrong in principle, and quite unnecessary in a council beginning each year with 24 members. General Rule 5 describes the procedure for electing councillors. General Rules 6 and 7 refer to the Annual General and Special General Meetings, and No. 8 to the annual subscription--which is two guineas. General Rule 9 should form part of the measurement rules. It refers to the payment of measurement fees, and their non-payment is mingled in a most curious manner with the non-payment of subscriptions to the Y.R.A., on which latter point there is a penalty in Rule 8. So far as measurement fees are concerned all owners should be on the same footing. The general rules are of course only binding on the members of the Association. [Illustration: The Start.] General Rule 10, concerning the meetings of the Council, is vague, and might well have another rule, to be spoken of presently, incorporated with it. General Rule 11 describes the duties of the Council which are tantamount to the objects of the Association, and might with advantage be mentioned in Rule 1. The measurement of yachts for racing and the issue of certificates of rating should be added to the rule, as now being duties which are governed by the Council. General Rule 12 describes the procedure necessary for effecting any alterations in the rules (general or racing), a two-thirds majority of the Council, and, subsequently, of a general meeting, or of a general vote, being necessary for any _amendment or addition_ to the rules. A member may, however, persevere in a proposal, although the Council report unfavourably upon it; in which case it is brought before a general meeting, or a general vote, and then requires a favourable majority of three-quarters to pass it into law. This rule is perhaps too stringent in its conservative tendencies, a two-thirds majority being ample under any circumstances. When such a majority is obtained in face of the Council's opposition the case must be very strong. Nothing of the kind has ever occurred; but in 1891 certain alterations, recommended by the Council, failed to obtain the requisite two-thirds majority at the Annual General Meeting. _The Rules for the Guidance of the Council_ have never been passed by a General Meeting, although some of them (like No. 7) are important. All of them should be incorporated with the General Rules. These unauthorised Rules are:-- No. 1, that the Council may be assembled by the president, or by a vice-president, or by a requisition of three councillors addressed to the secretary. No. 2, that five shall be a quorum. No. 3 refers to the chairman; and No. 4 to the minute book of the proceedings. No. 5, that a quorum of three may be assembled at any time and notice, to settle questions on the measurement of yachts. No. 6 regulates the procedure on General Rule 4, last paragraph, the election of councillors. No. 7 regulates the procedure on General Rule 2, first paragraph, the election of members of the Association. _The Racing Rules_ There are thirty-two 'sailing rules' under which yacht racing in British waters is conducted. Many of these rules have nothing to do with 'sailing,' but refer to the measurements for rating, entries, sailing committees' work ashore, and cognate matters; the rules and paragraphs of rules connected with any one subject being dotted about in the most bewildering manner, and the whole forming a general hotch-potch, no great credit to the yachting Fathers. The rules, being numerous and complex, must always be difficult to follow; but this difficulty is increased tenfold by unmethodical arrangement, and by the absence of any code whereby the law-making decisions of the Council can be discovered and kept in view by racing owners, by 'sailing' committees, and by the Council itself. The rules have been examined and explained with much ability by Mr. Dixon Kemp, in his book on 'Yacht and Boat Sailing,' chapter viii. being devoted to the subject. Every racing owner should possess this book: it is, therefore, unnecessary to repeat the treatment of the rules therein contained. Nor is a criticism of the rules necessary, as this has been done by the present writer in a series of articles published in that excellent paper 'The Yachtsman,' on April 28, and May 5, 12, 19, and 26, 1892; which back numbers can be obtained for a few pence by applying to the publisher, 143 Strand, London. Moreover, a summary of the rules was given in the Almanac for the Solent Racing, published by King & Co., Southampton, in 1893, and will probably be repeated in succeeding years. An attempt will therefore be made in these pages to treat the Racing Rules in a different manner, by an examination and description of the duties of each important actor in connection with a yacht race. _Duties of a Designer_ The principal object and duty of a designer is to build yachts capable of winning prizes fairly. He must, therefore, study every peculiarity and custom of the sport, the average climate during the racing season, and, above all, he must study the rule of rating and measurement (Rule 3), to be examined at the end of this chapter. Other rules must not escape his attention; for instance, the designer of Mr. Carrol's yacht, when building in America for races in British waters, would note that by Rule 9 shifting keels may only be moved by manual power, and, consequently, that if any hydraulic appliance be used, anything in the nature of an accumulator would be contrary to the spirit of the rule, and would be matter for protest. The same remark applies to working and hoisting the sails (Rule 13). A designer must note that, by Rule 15, yachts over 10-rating must be fitted below deck as yachts, including two wooden transverse bulkheads. Also that, by Rule 16, yachts of 30 to 90-rating must carry on deck a boat not less than 10 feet by 3-1/2 feet, and yachts of 90-rating, or more, a boat not less than 12 feet by 3-1/2 feet. Designers must also consider Rule 33, which defines 'cruising trim'--especially Clause 2, which prohibits the placing of 'sails or other gear' 'in the main cabin' of yachts which race in this trim; and Clauses 3 and 4, concerning the anchors and chains, and boats. _Private Match_ A yacht race can only be said to occur when the competitors have carefully prepared for it, and when it is under the direction of some competent nautical authority. In arranging a private match, it is therefore important to appoint both a race officer and a referee, the latter having the power to decide any dispute or to refer the same to the Y.R.A., should he think fit to do so. _Club and Open Matches_ Private matches are less frequent than of yore, and modern racing is generally for prizes given by yacht clubs or by town regattas. _Duties of a Yacht Club_ The object of a yacht club is usually defined somewhat as follows:-- R.S.Y.C.--The encouragement of yacht sailing in the Southampton Water and Solent. R.P.C.Y.C.--To encourage amateur yacht racing in the Solent. C.Y.C.--To encourage the racing of yachts in the small classes Y.R.A. B.S.C.--To promote the interests of amateur boat-sailing. The executives of such clubs should keep these objects in view by choosing flag officers who are keen sportsmen and patrons of yachting; by appointing sailing committees well versed in details; by raising funds for the prizes; and, generally, by constantly endeavouring to further the yachting interests of the club members. Unfortunately the development of a yacht club only too frequently produces a dual government, the house being governed by a committee mainly consisting of habitués who are not yachtsmen, and the yachting by a sailing committee. _Duties of a Sailing Committee_ The first duty of a sailing committee is to perfect itself. Each member should study, and be well acquainted with, the racing rules. The chairman should be a good business man, and well versed in the intricacies and dodges of yacht racing. If one of the flag officers fulfil these conditions, so much the better. The chairman should be elected by the committee, not by the club. The committee should discover the amount of cash available for racing, the average cost of a regatta, and consequently the balance which can be devoted to prizes. Other clubs whose regattas are held at the same period of the season should be addressed, and dates arranged to suit both clubs and owners. The committee is then in a position to settle its programme, which should be done as early in the year as possible, in order that owners may prepare their yachts' programmes for the season. A summary of the club programme should then be published or advertised; and this should be strictly adhered to, if possible. A clause is frequently inserted stating that the committee reserves the right to alter the programme; but it should be remembered that no change in the conditions of a race can be made after an entry has been received, because, by Rule 8, Y.R.A., the yacht is then 'entitled to a prize of not less than half the value of the first prize offered for competition,' if she 'sail over the course' under the conditions. The advertisement may conveniently take the following form: The ... Yacht Club will hold a Regatta on the ... day of ... 189. at .... _Race I._--Fee .... Prizes £.., £.., £.., for yachts exceeding ..., and not exceeding ...R. _Race II._--Fee .... Prizes £.., £.., for yachts exceeding ..., and not exceeding ... R. And so on. Open to yachts owned by members of recognised yacht clubs. Entries close at noon on the ... of ... 189.. For full programme apply to the Club Secretary. This summary is sufficient. It is better to insert a short notice twice than a long notice once. The full programme should be drawn up with much care, and everything mentioned, thus avoiding numerous inquiries and much correspondence. _The programme_ should state the matters already mentioned in the summary, and, in addition, the time of start for each race; the method of starting; the course of each race; the starting line; the finishing line (Rule 17); time limit (if any) for finishing race or shortening course; the exact length of each course in sea miles and decimals, for time allowance (if any); and the regulations special to the club or town regatta (Rule 4. Also Rec. 6 of Appendix). Some good sportsmen on the Solent hope soon to see a code of regulations universally adopted for the Solent classes, in which event it will only be necessary to state on the programme or the race card that the Y.R.A. rules and the Solent class regulations will be observed. The regulations might deal with the following matters:-- The sailing-over rule; the conditions on which second or third prizes (if any) will be awarded; the payment of entrance fees; the certificate of rating (Rule 3); the declaration at entry (Rule 5); the declaration at end of race (Rule 10); the deposit (if any) on a protest (Rule 30); the owner; the helmsman; rig allowances (if any). (Rec. 1 of Appendix.) _The race card_ can only be drawn up at the last moment, after the entries have closed. It is similar to the programme, but contains the names of the yachts which have entered, their colours, their recall numerals, and sometimes the names of their owners (Rule 12). It also generally contains the names of the flag officers, and the names of the race officers for the day. _Duties of the Secretary_ As the date of a regatta approaches, entries will be received, and the secretary should acquaint the sailing committee of any irregularity (Rule 5). He should also discover if the sailing committee wishes to 'refuse any entry.' An entry by telegram should finish thus: _Written entry follows_; and this should be made in strict accordance with Rule 5, Y.R.A. The entry (when filled in) and the declaration amount to nearly 150 words, which cost an owner 12_s._ 6_d._ if sent entirely by telegram. It was never intended that an entry by telegram should relieve an owner from making the declaration. The secretary must see that the race cards are printed promptly as soon as the entries are closed, and one should be sent to each yacht in accordance with Rule 12, Y.R.A., which states that 'written or printed instructions as to the conditions of the race, the course to be sailed, marks, &c., shall be supplied at the time of entry, or as soon after as possible, to every yacht entered for a race.' The secretary must see that recall numerals, 'white on a black ground, and the figures not less than 2 ft. 6 in. in height,' are placed conveniently for use by the race officers (Rule 12); also that the white peter, the blue peter (Rule 4), the commercial code flags B, C, D, F, and so on (Rule 17), and the means and trained labour for hoisting them promptly are similarly provided. He must also have a care that the gun, or guns, and the ammunition are in good order and position, and properly manned, in order that Rules 4 and 17 may be complied with. He must see that the two inner marks for the alignment of the starting line are correctly fixed, and that the outer mark is moored as nearly as practicable in the same alignment. He must take measures for having the mark-boats (if any) correctly moored, in good time. He should see that the race officers are provided with a chronograph, a book of the Y.R.A. rules, a race card, a chart showing the courses, a coloured diagram showing the racing colours of each competing yacht, and a description of each yacht giving any peculiarity by which she may be identified, such as the colour of the hull, the rig, the shape of the bow or stern, &c. He should provide lanterns for use at the winning line in the event of a finish after sunset. After the racing he should endeavour to obtain the declarations from the owners (or their representatives) on board the winning yachts (Rule 10). During these stirring times a secretary must not rely on receiving any assistance; on the contrary, everyone expects help from him; and should anything go wrong his broad shoulders must carry the blame. Yet there are some men who do all this and much more a dozen times in a season, and toil year by year 'for the good of the club,' and 'the fun of the thing,' as honorary secretaries. _The Duties of Race Officers_ It is customary, and a good plan, for the sailing committee to appoint two race officers for each day of a regatta (Rule 1). If the services of a flag officer, or of an active member of the sailing committee, can be obtained, well and good; but anyone, whether a member of the club or not, may be appointed. A race officer should be at his post _at least_ half an hour before the first race begins (Rule 1). This gives him only fifteen minutes to see that things are 'shipshape' before flag B is hoisted (Rule 17). During this time he must decide whether the regatta or any race must be postponed on account of bad weather, in which case letter N is hoisted over the flag denoting the race or races so postponed (Rule 2). He should discover from the secretary that the marks are all correctly moored, the flags and guns ready, and everything in order. It is a great convenience to sailing masters to have a _time gun_ fired half an hour before the start for the first race; but this should not be done unless it be mentioned on the race card. The race officer should time this gun to the fraction of a second, and start all the races in strict accordance therewith. The officer should also make himself acquainted with the racing colours (Rule 11), and, if possible, with any peculiarities in the appearance of the yachts which are about to compete, in order that they may be easily identified at the start. As the time for hoisting flag B (race 1) approaches, the officer should warn the man at the signal halliards, who will hoist the flag, _furled_, at the peak, and the instant the officer gives the time signal the flag should be 'broken out' by a sharp jerk on the halliard. As the time for _first gun_ approaches, the blue peter is hoisted similarly by another halliard, and is 'broken out' the instant the officer gives the time signal; the gun is fired simultaneously, and should it miss fire the blue peter is the signal. The 'preparative flag' is also lowered. The yachts in the race are under the rules at first gun (Rule 17). The only apparent exception being that a _paid_ hand may join or leave a yacht before the 'signal to start' (Rule 14), but not afterwards. N.B.--Corinthians may join or leave a yacht at any time during a race. The race officer should recall any yacht at the start which breaks any racing rule, such as being towed or propelled by any means other than her sails, after first gun (Rule 25). The 'member of a recognised yacht club' (Rule 10) must be on board at _first_ gun, and so with all the other racing rules. One of the race officers must very carefully watch the alignment as the starting time (_precisely_ five minutes after first gun) approaches, and the other officer should watch the chronograph and shout the word 'fire' at the fraction of a second. 'Should the gun miss fire the simultaneous lowering of the blue peter is the signal to start' (Rule 17). The officer attending to the starting line should carefully note whether 'any part of the hull, spars, or other equipment' (Rule 17) of any of the yachts 'be on or across the line _before_ the signal to start is made.' If so, the recall numerals of such boats should be at once displayed, and kept displayed until they return and recross the line or give up the race (Rule 12). The second race is started in the same way, the preparative flag C being hoisted when the starting gun for the first race is fired. Sometimes there is an interval of time between these actions; but there is no difficulty in starting races every fifteen minutes in strict accordance with the rules, if the officers know their duties and the signalmen are well trained. The work of starting shows the necessity of appointing _two_ race officers; and, subsequently, during the racing it enables at least one officer to be always on duty. The officers should watch the racing as much as possible, and should they see or learn that any yacht has broken any rule, they should disqualify her whether she be protested against or not (Rule 30). 'Should it be necessary during a race to shorten the course' (Rule 4), the officers will order 'the signal flag denoting the race' (or races) to be 'hoisted under the white peter; or, in case of fog or darkness, two guns' to be 'fired,' to show that the race is to finish with the round about to be completed, 'or at such mark as the sailing committee or officer of the day may appoint.' In practice, the sailing committee never interferes with the race officers. Of course the time allowance, if any, is adjusted to the altered distance (Rule 4). If there be more than one round in a course, each yacht should be timed at the end of each round; but there is no rule to this effect. The time at the end of a round or race is taken when any part of a yacht's hull or equipment _first_ cuts the line. When the competing yachts pass the race officer, he should also notice whether any of them 'show an ensign conspicuously in the main rigging' (Rule 30), this being the preparative signal of a protest; and consequently, the race officers must be prepared to receive such protest 'within two hours of the arrival of the protesting yacht,' but they cannot decide it. This rests with the sailing committee. Race officers must also be prepared to receive from a yacht, or yachts, a claim for a resailed race under the 'man overboard' rule (Rule 29), which states that competing yachts 'shall use their utmost endeavours to render assistance in case of a man falling overboard from a competing yacht; and if it should appear that any yacht was thereby prevented from winning the race, the committee shall have power to order it to be resailed between any yacht or yachts so prevented, and the actual winner.' By the wording of the rule the race officers can only report the matter to the committee, and cannot settle it themselves. Nevertheless, they have the power to 'award the prizes' (Rule 1) in the absence of any such claim, or protest; but this is seldom done in practice, because owners rarely send their declaration (in accordance with Rule 10) to the secretary of the club until it is demanded. _See_ Duties of Owners. Practically, therefore, race officers can only declare the probable winners; and in some clubs, where the same yachts race frequently, this is done at the termination of the racing, by hoisting the colours of the apparent winners under the signal flags denoting their races. _Duties of Owners_ The principal duty of a racing owner is to see that everything in connection with the racing of his yacht is done in a perfectly fair and honourable manner. An owner who breaks or infringes any racing rule flagrantly 'may be disqualified by the Council, for such time as the Council may think fit, from sailing his yacht in any race held under the rules of the Y.R.A.' (Rule 33). When a yacht is officially measured, the owner should be on board, or have an experienced racing friend on board to represent him. He should note the position of the inside ballast, ship's stores, unbent sails, and other gear, entering same in his note-book. He should see that the crew is properly placed, viz. 'amidships' (Council's instructions to official measurer, March 1, 1883), as, by a resolution passed December 6, 1892, a yacht (Rule 3, December 1892) must now be marked by the owner, such marks being clear above the water surface in smooth water in 'racing trim,' which evidently means with crew and all weights (live or dead) carried in a race on board. The taxable length will in future be officially measured to the 'outer edges' of said marks, a length somewhat greater than the yacht's L.W.L. An owner should take the greatest care to see for himself that his yacht's taxable length is never increased, and that any alteration to her ballast trim, sanctioned by a recent addition to Rule 15, is never made after 9 P.M. of the day previous to a race. As regards the sail-area, an owner should hand the sailmaker's certificate to the official measurer and give him every assistance in measuring the yacht's spars, &c.; and, subsequently, should any alteration be made to the sails or spars affecting the yacht's rating, the owner should at once inform the secretary Y.R.A. in writing, and return the certificate if required (Rule 3). In short, an owner is held responsible for the rating of his yacht being absolutely correct. His next duty is to enter her properly for any race he may wish to compete in. 'Entries shall be made ... _at least_ forty-eight hours previous to noon of the race day'--twenty-four hours being added for a Sunday. Clubs have asserted the right to close entries at a longer interval. Owners must therefore note these times for closing the entries, and act accordingly (Rule 5). Post entries are not provided for in the Y.R.A. rules, and must therefore be considered irregular, whether sanctioned by the other competitors or not. The long declaration given in the rule is a nuisance, and should be cut out, as there is no reason for mentioning one rule more than another on this declaration. So long, however, as the Y.R.A thinks it necessary, it must be enforced, and owners should help the clubs to do so by carrying it out. As before stated, an entry by telegram (_sent off_ before the hour of closing entries) should be followed at once by this written declaration. An owner should know that if a race be postponed or resailed all the yachts _entered_ may start; but the entry is closed to other yachts (Rule 5). [Illustration: ROYAL SOUTHAMPTON YACHT CLUB. "BRAMBLES AND LEPE COURSE."] An owner must belong to some 'recognised yacht club' or his entry is void. A hired yacht cannot be entered for any race under Y.R.A. rules (Rule 6). An owner cannot enter two yachts to compete for one prize, but he can enter one yacht for two simultaneous races (Rule 7). An owner who has entered his yacht for a prize may sail over the course for half the value of the prize should no other competitor start (Rule 8), and should the race officer not postpone the race for bad weather (Rule 2). The owner (or a member of a recognised yacht club, to represent him) must be on board during a race, and after the race he should sign a declaration that the yacht has been sailed in strict conformity with the Y.R.A. rules and with the conditions on the programme (Rule 10), and forward same to the race officer at once, or to the secretary if later. An owner (or his representative) should see that his yacht is supplied in good time with the written or printed instructions for a race (Rule 12). Should an owner (or his representative) decide to protest against a competitor, or otherwise (removal of a mark, for instance), the protest-flag should be displayed at the proper time, and the protest in writing lodged without delay. Certain time-limits are given in Rule 30. An owner having flown a protest flag should continue the protest, as it is often unfair to other competitors to withdraw it. Moreover, it may be fairly argued that an owner who observes an infringement of the rules by a competitor, and does not protest as ordered in Rule 30, himself breaks the rules by such omission, and subjects himself to disqualification by the sailing committee. If there were more protests there would soon be far less necessity for them. _Duties of a Sailing Master_ A skipper is responsible to the owner, his employer, for the correctness of the yacht's rating, as shown on her certificate; he must also see that she is properly prepared for each race, and properly raced; thus:-- He should not start unless the owner or a qualified representative is on board (Rule 10). He should have the yacht's colours carried properly (Rule 11). He should carefully study the written or printed instructions and follow them in every detail (Rule 12). At the start he should look out for his recall numeral (Rule 12). He should prevent any paid hand joining or leaving the yacht after the signal to start (Rule 14). He should be careful to comply with the ballast rule, and see that the dead-weight is not altered after 9 P.M. of the day previous to a race (Rule 15). He should see that boats and life-buoys are carried in accordance with Rule 16. He should be specially careful not to infringe any sailing rule between the guns at the start (Rule 17). If late at the start, he should know that the yacht is not disqualified (Council Y.R.A., 1881). A good skipper will know Rules 18 to 29 by heart. By Rule 18:-- (_a_) _A yacht going free keeps clear of a yacht close hauled._ (_b_) _A yacht close hauled port keeps clear of a yacht close hauled starboard._ (_c_) _When going free on opposite tacks the yacht with wind on port keeps clear._ (_d_) _When going free on same tack the windward yacht keeps clear._ (_e_) _A yacht with wind aft keeps clear of all others._ By (_b_) a yacht on port tack can be disqualified: first, if she strike or be struck by a yacht on starboard tack; secondly, if the latter luff, tack, or bear away to avoid being struck. When yachts which overlap are rounding a mark or passing an obstruction, the outside yacht must give room to and keep clear of the inside yachts (Rules 19 and 20). When yachts approach an obstruction close-hauled, and the leeward yacht cannot tack and clear the windward yacht, the helmsman of the former should 'hail for water' when required, and the two yachts must then tack together (Rule 22). An overtaking yacht must keep clear of an overtaken yacht, which may luff, but must not bear away out of her course to obstruct the passage on her leeward side (Rule 21). 'A yacht running ashore or foul of a vessel or other obstruction may use her own anchors, boats, warps, &c., to get off,' but must take them on board again, and must receive no assistance except from the crew of a vessel fouled (Rule 23). A yacht which touches a mark or competitor, or which wrongfully causes another yacht to do so, forfeits all claim to the prize (Rule 24). A yacht must be propelled by her sails alone after first gun (except as stated in Rule 23). She may anchor, but not slip. She must not make fast to buoys, &c. She must not send an anchor out in a boat (except as stated in Rule 23). Any sounding must be done with lead and line alone (Rules 25, 26, and 27). Yachts racing at night must carry lights by Board of Trade rules (Rule 28). When accidents occur, competing yachts must help to save life (Rule 29). A skipper should also remember that, 'should a flagrant breach of the racing rules be proved' against him, 'he may be disqualified by the Council,' for any stated period, 'from sailing in any race held under the Y.R.A. rules' (Rule 32). _Duties of the Official Measurer_ An official measurer should be prepared to measure a yacht promptly at short notice. Consequently no person should accept the post whose time is much engaged in other business or pursuits. The measurement of a racing-yacht's _sails_ is left very much in the hands of the sailmakers. The only check usually applied is the measurement of the spars on which the sails are set. The secretary of the Y.R.A. is then able to check the accuracy of the sailmaker's measurements as recorded on a 'sailmaker's certificate,' which is guarded afterwards by the secretary, Y.R.A. For instance, to check a cutter's mainsail, the boom and gaff are measured. It would occupy too much space to describe the whole of the sail measurements, which are detailed on six or seven pages of the Y.R.A. book of rules--under Rule 3. Let it suffice to say that the actual area of each sail abaft a mast is found, and that the head-sail tax is obtained by the measurement of the fore-triangle; which will be done in 1894 as follows:-- 'The perpendicular will be taken from the deck at the foreside of the mast to where the line of the luff of the foremost head-sail when extended cuts such perpendicular, and the base will be taken from foreside of mast to where the line of luff of foremost head-sail cuts the bowsprit, other spar, or hull' (General Meeting, Y.R.A., December 6, 1892). The instructions to the measurer issued by direction of the Council on May 8, 1889, are, briefly, as follows:-- He must not measure a yacht in which he is interested as owner, designer, builder, or otherwise. The taxable length must be obtained at slack water by measuring the L.O.A. on deck, and deducting the O.H. at stem and stern, found by hanging a lead-line from the bow and taffrail and measuring its distances from the outer edges of the owner's marks on the stem and stern. He must ascertain that the yacht is in correct racing trim, and the crew amidships (mid over-all length) when measuring these overhangs. Sails, spinnaker gear, tackles, &c., may be put amidships at this time. He should note and record the position of any movable ballast. Each measurement should be taken twice, and recorded twice in the book, and a third time if there be material disagreement. The mean should be adopted. [This is wrong mathematically. The 'mean adopted' should be that of the observations which agree, the one with a 'material disagreement' being cancelled.] * * * * * By a new rule passed on December 6, 1892, 'owners are required to mark the rating length of their yachts at the bow and stern, which marks shall at all times be clear above the surface of the water when the yacht is lying in smooth water in her usual racing trim,' i.e. with crew amidships. See previous instructions. The following matters connected with measurements are contained in Rule 3, and should be remembered:-- Notches cut away from the fair-line of the stem or stern post are not allowed for when the rating length is measured. The segmental area bounded by the bent yard of a lug or other sail, and its chord, is included in the sail-area. If the length of the spinnaker boom when shipped in its place square to the keel, and measured from its outer end to the fore-and-aft line of the mast, be greater than the base of the yacht's fore-triangle, it is substituted therefor in calculating the taxed area of head-sails. The perpendicular for same triangle has already been referred to. * * * * * A measurer should send his measurements to the secretary, Y.R.A., by the first post in order that the owner may receive his yacht's certificate of rating as soon as possible. * * * * * At present the regulations on measurements are divided, some being placed in Rule 3, and some in the printed instructions to measurers. It would be far better to combine them into one appendix, which measurers, builders, designers, and owners alike could then refer to, and note precisely how matters should be arranged. Rule 3 should simply describe the rule for rating racing yachts and the Y.R.A. certificate of rating. The remarks on the Y.R.A. rules end here, but the writer has been requested to include in this chapter a short examination of the various Rating Rules of different nationalities. PART II. THE RATING RULES _Extract from Letter to the FIELD in 1892._--'With shame I confess that the problems and calculations, the combinations of straight and crooked lines, with large and small numerals and Latin and Greek letters, the mathematical contortions and algebraic hieroglyphics ... are meaningless to my uncultured eyes. They are fascinating; I admire their beauty, and can well understand that inventing rules for rating must be a most charming pursuit for intellectual yachtsmen.... 'DUNRAVEN.' An attempt will be made to treat the subject as simply as possible, so that anyone who knows a little arithmetic may follow it. The following 'hieroglyphics' will be used:-- B. Beam D. Draught F. Freeboard G. Girth L. Length L.O.A. Length over all L.O.M. Length between official marks L.W.L. Length on W.L. M. Area of immersed mid-section M.S. Mid section R. Rating, whether Y.R.A., or corrected length, or other S. Sail area T. Tonnage U.Y.F. Union des Yachts Français W. Weight of yacht complete in English tons dead weight same as her displacement W.L. Water level Y.R.A. Yacht Racing Association If the subject of rating were treated historically, it would be necessary to begin with the old tonnage rules; but we live in the present, and the more important of the existing rules will therefore be examined first. The old tonnage rules will more conveniently be described at the end of the chapter, with existing tonnage rules. England and America have used rating rules for some years, and France determined to do the same in October 1892. The efficiency of a sailing yacht can be calculated very similarly to that of a steam yacht, the sails being the motor in one, the engines in the other. But we know that the efficiency of a steamer should vary directly as her indicated horse-power, and inversely as her displacement. The same idea should apply to sailing yachts. It is, in fact, almost impossible to rate a sailing yacht satisfactorily without taking into account both her sail-area and her displacement--or something very closely allied with the latter. A length and sail-area rule proposed by Mr. Dixon Kemp in 1880 was adopted in 1883 for second-class racing, and in 1886 this alternative rule was adopted as the sole rule. It is-- English R = L × S ÷ 6,000 (I.) This important step was taken after a careful and exhaustive inquiry conducted by a special committee appointed by the Council, Y.R.A., and presided over by Sir William Forwood. The committee took the evidence of our most noted yacht architects, and finally reported in favour of Rule (I), and of the present classification (except 2-1/2 rating, which was afterwards added by the Council). The report met with general approval; the Y.R.A. put its seal upon it, and gave it a tenure of seven years; subject, however, to General Rule 12, by which any change at any time can be made by the requisite majorities. The tonnage time scale in use before 1886 was altered to agree with the new rating, which cannot be said to represent anything but what it really is--viz. the product of a yacht's taxable length and her sail-area. The classification and the divisor do not alter the rule one iota. They are purely arbitrary, as was very clearly stated in an excellent letter by Mr. G. B. Thompson, published in the 'Field' of December 17, 1892. He said very truly that the 5-rating class is in reality the 30,000 class, and the 10-rating class is the 60,000 class. If the divisor 6,000 be altered alone, the result is precisely the same as altering the rating itself in like ratio, and in the same direction. Thus (R. × divisor) and (L. × S.) must each equal 120,000 in the 20-R. class, and must each equal 240,000 in the 40-R. class, and so on. In short, the Y.R.A. rule may be regarded thuswise:--In each class L. × S. = a constant, for boats at the top of the class. By a recent decision in general meeting, Y.R.A., December 6, 1892, L. will in future be measured between the outer edges of the official marks, which must be affixed by the owner and always show clear above W.L. when a yacht lies in smooth water in racing trim. L., therefore, is no longer L.W.L., but L.O.M. (length by owner's marks), rather longer than L.W.L. By Rule 3, Y.R.A., in calculating a yacht's R., a fraction of or exceeding 0.01 counts as 1.0 in classes exceeding 10 R.; but in classes exceeding 1.0 R. and not exceeding 10 R., a fraction less than 0.1 counts as 0.1; and in classes not exceeding 1.0 R. fractions from 0.01 to 0.99 inclusive count for their value. Example: 'Dacia's' certificate, June 1892, recorded S. = 887.6 and L. = 33.83 and R. = 5.00. But her S. × L. ÷ 6,000 = 5.005 and 0.005 is 'a fraction smaller than 0.1'; consequently, by the wording of Rule 3, her R. = 5.01, and she was over-rating; but the secretary, Y.R.A., when questioned, stated that the 'Y.R.A. only recognises two places of decimals,' and words to this effect were added to Rule 3 at the general meeting February 22, 1893. _The Time Allowance_ The time scale for differences of R. under Rule 1. was based on the conception that a racing yacht's 'capability for speed varies as the fifth root of the rating,' the argument leading to this being that-- speed varies as [V¯]L (1) and that sail varies as L[V¯]B (2) and by the rating rule, R varies as S × L it therefore follows from (2) that R varies as L{2}[V¯]B and, assuming that B varies as L (3) it follows that R varies as L{2}[V¯]L or L{5/2} therefore ... L varies as R{2/5} Hence, by (1), speed varies as [V¯]R{2/5} or [5V¯]R.--Q.E.D. The Y.R.A. time scale therefore rests not only on the two assumptions (1) and (2) mentioned in the book, but on the further assumption (3), which we know to be incorrect. However, the 5th root of R. gives a time scale which is found to act fairly well in practice, and this being so, the theory of the time curve is a matter of minor importance. At first (1886 and 1887) the adoption of the unrestricted rule met with some opposition, especially in the small classes, where a few of the most experienced yachtsmen advocated restrictions in L.W.L. or L.O.A., and in mainsail area. But the majority determined, and rightly, to give the rule free scope; and the results on the whole have been highly satisfactory, fine seaworthy vessels, driven by a small sail-area at great speed, having been produced in the large classes. The evolution in the small classes has been more rapid, and in 1892 some rather undesirable types were prize-winners, and yachtsmen who wished to protect themselves against similar vessels in the large classes induced the Y.R.A. to appoint a special committee to consider whether the unrestricted and unaltered rule should be continued beyond the seven-years period, terminating in 1893. This committee, under the presidency of Sir George Lampson, obtained the opinions of our leading designers, as was done in 1886, and the designers themselves met in conference twice, and jointly addressed two letters to the Rule Committee in which they finally recommended the adoption of the Seawanhaka rule for rating racing yachts and a classification of corrected lengths suitable for our existing racing fleet; also other details, the most important being a proposal to tax overhang above the W.L. and cut away keels below it. The Rule Committee adopted the recommendation as to change of rating rule, but proposed a modification whereby the British rating and time scale could be retained. When this report was brought before the Council it was upset, some of the committee themselves voting against their own report. But the action of the Council has since been justified by the production of several splendid specimens of yacht architecture to race under the Y.R.A. rule of rating. The elements of the fastest types which have developed in small yachts under the rule can be studied in the tables given in the chapter on Racing in the Solent Classes. One of our ablest designers has consistently advocated the introduction of a tax on beam into the formula. He did so in 1886, and again in 1892, when he proposed to tax draught also. Unfortunately the mathematics of the rule make it difficult, if not impossible, to do so, because the blow on L. is lessened when it is shared by other quantities. Thus by Mr. Watson's modification of the rating rule, proposed in October 1892, viz. English R = (2L + 2B + D) × S ÷ {constant, say 17,000} (II.) 'Doreen' is of smaller rating, although both longer and more beamy than 'Decima.' They are of the same rating for racing by the Y.R.A. rule. Mr. Watson's formula would therefore encourage even greater length of hull than the Y.R.A. rule. No such difficulty is encountered by the introduction of such taxes into the Seawanhaka rule, where the plus sign replaces the multiplying sign used by us. This rule was adopted by the American Yacht Club of its name in 1882, the form being American R = (L + [V¯]S) ÷ 2 (III.) The New York Yacht Club has raced for a number of years under a similar rule for time allowance,[6] viz. American R = (2L + [V¯]S) ÷ 3 (IV.) and just as the Y.R.A. rule can take the form L × S = constant in any class, so these rules can take the forms L + [V¯]S = constant, in any class III. 2L + [V¯]S = constant, in any class IV. It then becomes evident that any sacrifice of S. to obtain greater L. under Rule IV. is only half as effective as the same process under Rule III. Conversely, any sacrifice of L. to obtain more S. is twice as effective under Rule IV. as under Rule III. [Footnote 6: But not for classification, which latter has been simply the length of hull on water-line. Hence, yachts built for the same class have varied much in their sail-area; 'Vigilant' and 'Valkyrie' for instance.] Again, as comparisons between L. and S. must be brought to some common measure, the Y.R.A. form ... L. × S. = constant in any class, may be read L. × [V¯]S. × [V¯]S. = constant, and it then becomes clear that any sacrifice of S. to get L. is twice as effective as in Rule III., and four times as effective as in Rule IV.; and conversely, that any sacrifice of L. to get more S. is half as effective as in Rule III., and one-fourth as effective as in Rule IV. The author of the Y.R.A. rule has pointed out that it can be converted into the American form of 'corrected length,' thus:-- American R = [3V¯]L × S (V.) See his second edition of 'Yacht Architecture.' The sail curve is precisely the same as that from the Y.R.A. rule. An examination of this form of the Y.R.A. rule is interesting. By cubing V. and comparing it with I., it will be seen that six thousand times the English rating equals the cube of the American rating derived from formula V. [Illustration: Diagram of sail curves, showing the relation of sail to L.W.L. in the Y.R.A., New York, and Seawanhaka Rules. 40-rating class.] When English and American rules are examined diagraphically, the sail-curves take three positions that differ considerably in their steepness--the Y.R.A. rule giving a curve nearest to the horizontal which indicates R. = S. ÷ constant, proposed by Mr. Richardson in 1886 (or R. = [V¯]S ÷ constant if expressed in American measure; or R. = S. [V¯]S divided by a constant if expressed in English measure); and the New York rule taking a position nearest to the vertical denoting R. = L., under which the Solent Length Classes used to sail. The Seawanhaka rule gives an intermediate curve--perhaps the 'happy medium.' The curves have been plotted for yachts of 40-rating by our rule, and the following table gives the actual numbers:-- +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | Sail-area allowed to | | +------------------------+------------------+-----------------+ |L.W.L. | 40-raters, Y.R.A. Rule | 61.5 Corrected L.| 61 Corrected L. | | | | Seawanhaka Rule | New York Rule | +-------+------------------------+------------------+-----------------+ | ft. | ft. | ft. | ft. | | | | | | | 54 | 4,444 | 4,761 | -- | | 56 | 4,286 | 4,489 | 5,041 | | 58 | 4,139 | 4,225 | -- | | 59 | 4,068 | 4,096 | 4,096 | | 60 | 4,000 | 3,969 | -- | | 62 | 3,871 | 3,721 | 3,481 | | 64 | 3,750 | 3,481 | -- | +-------+------------------------+------------------+-----------------+ _The Turning-point of Maximum Efficiency, or best Length_ Each L. and S. rule for rating racing yachts must have a turning-point, or best length, in each class for winning prizes in a given climate. It depends far more upon the average wind-pressure during the racing season than on any assumed connection between L. and [V¯]S. It will vary on different days, and for different seasons, and for different localities. The average wind-force is stronger on the Solent than on the Clyde, and stronger at Rothesay than at Sandy Hook. But type is another matter. Type is governed by the racing rule, and differences of climate have very little effect upon it. The best proportional length also varies in different classes, the water being rougher and the wind harder, comparatively speaking, on small than on large yachts, thus causing the former to develope L. and sacrifice S. to the utmost. Under the tonnage rules it is true that the small yachts carried the larger comparative sail-plan, but this was due to other causes, such as their greater comparative draught and ballast. The _best length_ under L. and S. rules also varies with the rating rule, those rules having sail-curves nearest to the line R. = S. developing the greatest length, and those having sail-curves nearest to the line R. = L. developing the greatest sail. Still another factor governs the _best length_ in any class, viz. lightness of construction; and this depends on four other factors: cost, design, workmanship, and strength of materials. We are therefore met by quite a crowd of considerations when endeavouring to determine _best length_; but in comparing the rating rules we can eliminate many of them by making a few assumptions and reasoning therefrom. _First_, assume that a new boat is built with the lightest possible hull consistent with strength, and of the best possible design for the 40-R. class 1894, and that her L.=62 ft., therefore S=3,871. (See preceding table.) _Second_, assume that a longer boat and a shorter boat equally well built and designed are tried and are beaten, and that 62 ft. is then acknowledged to be _best length_ for 40-ratings in our climate. _Third_, assume that the class is converted in 1895 into one rated at 61.5 American R., 'Queen Mab' being thereby placed at the top of the class by the Seawanhaka rule without alteration. The 62-ft. yacht, however, must clip to 3,721, or 150 off her S. as a 40-rater. But the shorter boat, say a 'Queen Mab' 59 ft. L.W.L., which we assumed to fail when racing under our rule, could now _add_ 30 ft. and sail against the crack 62-footer with an advantage of no less than 180 sq. ft. of canvas. Evidently, the best length under our rule being 62, the best length under the American rule is something less; how much less being only determined by trial, and depending on the numerous factors before mentioned. Moreover, an arbitrary limit of L.W.L. is thus shown to be less necessary under the American rule than under ours; and with L. so greatly developed in our racers at the present time, it may be that we have already gone beyond the best length for the American rule, especially in the small classes. This was carefully pointed out by the present writer in two letters to 'Land and Water,' October 5 and 9, 1892. Mr. R. E. Froude also stated the case very clearly in the 'Field,' December 31, 1892; but it is very difficult to convince the defenders of the Y.R.A. rule that any other rule is superior. Mr. Dixon Kemp, in his excellent work on 'Yacht Architecture,' says (p. 15, 2nd edition) in comparing rules I., III., IV.: 'Of these rules, that of the Y.R.A. admits of the employment of the greatest length for any given rating'; and the length referred to was evidently _best length_ in a given climate. The Seawanhaka rule is therefore superior to ours if excessive length be feared; and being a plus formula, it lends itself readily to the adoption of any desired tax on other linear dimensions. For instance, Mr. Watson's proposal (II.) might be put into the plus form, thus:-- American R = (2L + 2B + D + [V¯]S) ÷ 3.8 (VI.) This shows the value of a plus rule over a multiplying rule and the value is not lost when a plus rule is converted into an English rating rule by cubing the former and dividing by a constant. Thus, the recent Rule Committee proposed to convert the Seawanhaka rule into an English rating rule by cubing it and dividing by 6,000, the result being: English R = (L + [V¯]S){3} ÷ constant, say 48,000 (VII.) The variable within brackets in VI. can be cubed and divided by a constant in a similar manner. But the cubic forms of the 'plus' rules are clumsy, and seem difficult to those who cannot compute by logarithms. No real advantage is gained by adhering to the English rating and time scale and classification. In fact, the American time scale is simpler. If, therefore, a 'plus form' of rating be ever adopted, it would be much better to adopt 'corrected length' as the rating, together with the American time scale. The classification could, of course, be chosen in such a manner that our own racing yachts would be at the top of the classes without any important alterations. Another rule was proposed in a leading article of the 'Field' on October 15, 1892. It is:-- English R = L{2}[V¯]S ÷ constant, say 6,000 (VIII.) It gives a sail-curve nearly parallel to the one produced by the New York rule, and may almost be regarded as that rule dressed in Y.R.A. uniform; but the advantages of a plus rule are lost, whereas in the conversion of the Seawanhaka rule proposed by the Y.R.A. Committee 1892 they are retained. Similarly, the Y.R.A. rule--varying as [3V¯]L.S. (see V.), or as [3V¯]L. × [V¯]S. × [V¯]S.--may be considered as equivalent to the plus formula L. + 2 [V¯]S. ÷ constant, and the English and American rules may therefore be regarded to vary as follows: In linear measure New York as 2 L + [V¯]S Seawanhaka as L + [V¯]S Y.R.A. as L + 2[V¯]S Mr. Herreshoff has recently proposed a rule of rating based on L. [V¯] S., which is an area, but the cube root of tonnage is placed in the divisor; and this being linear, it converts the rating into linear measure, an area divided by a line being a line. The result being linear, it is translatable into American rating and time allowance. Mr. Herreshoff's proposed rule is:-- American R = ( L [V¯]S / [3V¯]T ) ÷ constant, say 15 (IX.) A critique on this rule by the editor of the 'Field,' December 17, 1892, suggests that the cube root of 100 T. should be taken, as there are 100 cubic feet in a registered ton. This is unnecessary. So long as S. is superficial, and T. cubic, the [V¯]S. and the [3V¯]T. will be linear; and a constant can be selected which will convert the quotient resulting from the rule into corrected feet or inches, or metres, as required for the linear rating adopted. Mr. Herreshoff's rule when tested is not encouraging; 'Doreen's' length so corrected being 2-1/2 per cent. smaller than 'Decima's.' The rule evidently does not encourage that compactness of hull-dimension which Mr. Watson considers desirable. It also appears to put a premium on abnormal freeboard, so as to increase T. by means of a large body over the water-level. This was pointed out by the editor of the 'Field,' December 24, 1892, and an improved rule suggested in which displacement was used as a divisor in place of tonnage. W. the total weight of yacht in English tons dead weight is of course her displacement, and the rule proposed may be written:-- English R = ( L{2}S / [3V¯]W ) ÷ 10,000 (X.) So far as L. and S. are concerned this rule would produce a similar sail-curve to the Y.R.A. rule (see diagram); but the divisor would encourage a large powerful hull, and the rule would therefore produce a shorter type with more sail than now exists in English racers. The practical difficulty of discovering W., either by measurement or by some system of weighing the yacht complete, has to be considered in connection with this rule. The most important point to be noted about these rules (IX. and X.) is the fact that Mr. Herreshoff and Mr. Dixon Kemp proposed them--showing that two of the leading experts consider it necessary to encourage greater displacement by means of the rating rules. The question, therefore, arises whether the desired result cannot be effected in a less objectionable manner; and it appears to the writer that dividing the present Y.R.A. rule by some area proportional to that of the immersed mid-section would have the desired effect, and would avoid the difficulties already mentioned. The actual area of M.S. cannot be found without encroaching on the secrets of a yacht's design; but M. the area of immersed mid-section can be easily found if measured internally, and the Y.R.A. rule may take the form:-- American R = LS ÷ constant (say 72) (XI.) -- M L.S. being cubic, and the variable divisor M. being superficial, the quotient is linear, and a constant divisor can be chosen which will convert the result into American rating, which is expressed in 'corrected' feet. The general tendencies of the Y.R.A. rule would be modified by the introduction of M. as proposed in XI., a large immersed M.S. being encouraged, without the necessity of employing a deep narrow body, as may be seen on the following table, where 'Bedouin' figures out very well owing to her large but not deep immersed M.S. The author claims with some confidence that this modified rule presents the best solution of the problem yet suggested. But there is really no problem requiring solution at present. So long as yachts like 'Britannia' and 'Satanita' are built for racing under the Y.R.A. existing rule of rating, grumblers will not command an audience. In the event, however, of yachts like 'Pilgrim' or 'Jubilee' winning in our waters a change of some sort will be required. The measurement of M. can be easily done in a few minutes, with yacht afloat, as described on p. 87 of the 'Field,' January 21, 1893. The Seawanhaka rule (III.) can be treated similarly, the divisor 2 being thereby avoided. It becomes American R = L + [V¯]S - [V¯]72M (XII.) The action of these rules may be seen from the table on p. 180; column headed XI. giving the rating under the modified Y.R.A. rule, and column headed XII. giving the rating under the modified Seawanhaka rule. Each result is in 'corrected length.' The dimensions in above were obtained from the drawings in Dixon Kemp's 'Yacht Architecture,' 2nd ed., except 'Decima's' and 'Doreen's,' which were kindly given by their designers. It will be found on trial that 72 M. is approximately equal to the mean value of S and L{2} in successful yachts. _The New French Rule_ On November 5, 1892, it was announced in the 'Field' that the Union des Yachts Français had decided to adopt a hull-and sail-area rating, it being considered by the 'active element in French yacht racing' that 'the type ... produced by the French length and girth rule is inferior to the type produced by the British and American rules ... British yachts having defeated those of France, although handicapped by the French rule of rating.' The conclusion was scarcely a logical sequence from the premisses. It should have been that French racing yachts were not the correct evolution of the French rule of rating. But we are now concerned with the new French rule (proposed by M. Godinet) in which sail is an important factor. +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | Name of yacht | L | S | [V¯]S | M | XI. | XII. | +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | Genesta | 81.0 | 7,643| 101.40 | 91.27 | 94.21 | 87.39 | | Volunteer | 85.9 | 10,270| 87.43 | 105.42 | 100.24 | 93.30 | +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | Chiquita | 45.5 | 2,636| 51.36 | 31.32 | 53.20 | 49.35 | | Ghost | 46.5 | 2,577| 50.77 | 34.60 | 48.10 | 47.38 | | Minerva | 40.0 | 2,700| 52.00 | 29.73 | 50.39 | 46.00 | +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | Dis | 36.0 | 1,658| 40.71 | 22.37 | 36.23 | 36.00 | | Decima | 35.67| 1,679| 40.94 | 22.17 | 37.23 | 36.71 | | Doreen | 38.05| 1,572| 39.62 | 21.67 | 38.34 | 38.23 | +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | Oread | 28.2 | 1,063| 32.60 | 13.33 | 31.25 | 29.82 | | Quinque | 33.0 | 900| 30.00 | 13.33 | 30.93 | 32.02 | | Valentine | 29.8 | 996| 31.56 | 14.47 | 28.50 | 29.08 | | Bedouin | 30.0 | 1,000| 31.62 | 14.96 | 28.00 | 28.92 | +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ | Madcap | 21.0 | 714| 26.72 | 9.97 | 20.89 | 20.97 | | Lady Nan | 23.0 | 653| 25.55 | 8.63 | 24.16 | 23.63 | | Dolphin | 25.7 | 581| 24.10 | 8.27 | 25.07 | 25.41 | +---------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+ In its simplest form, it is:-- English R = (4L - G) G[V¯]S ÷ 520 (XIII.) G. being the greatest girth from top of deck planking port, round keel to ditto starboard, plus extreme beam. Each of the three factors L. G. [V¯]S. being linear (metric measure) the result is given in cubic form, and is converted into English rating by the divisor selected, and the Y.R.A. time scale has been adopted by the Union des Yachts Français. The editor of the 'Field' considers that 'the rule is calculated to produce a poor kind of vessel for match sailing or anything else'; but it is hazardous to prophesy the evolution of any rule, more especially one which taxes L., B., D., bilge, and S. No doubt the tax on D. is doubtful policy, and it seems very unnecessary when we consider the small depth of water in many French harbours, which is the most efficient check on D. it is possible to conceive for large yachts, and in the small classes D. gives grip and power to windward, and seaworthiness. A careful analysis of the rule by the writer leads him to believe that the conclusion arrived at by the editor of the 'Field' is correct. It certainly appears that the rule has a sail-curve nearly as steep as the New York rule, which has been abandoned because it encouraged such large sail-plans. For this reason, therefore, if for no other, the new French rule seems to be inferior to the Y.R.A. and the Seawanhaka rules. A good letter on the subject of girth, by one of our leading designers, was published in the 'Yachtsman,' September 8, 1892. On the whole, English yachtsmen would probably feel very disinclined to adopt the new French rule for British yacht-racing. * * * * * This concludes the examination of the more important national rules in which sail-area and some hull dimension or dimensions are combined in the formula for the rating, whether the result be cubic, linear, or otherwise. We therefore now pass to the simple sail-area rule proposed by Mr. Richardson in 1886, viz. R = S ÷ 100 (XIV.)A The rating so obtained being neither cubic nor linear, but superficial, difficulties as regards time scale arose, and neither Mr. Richardson nor the Council appeared to notice that the rule could easily be made linear by putting it in the form American R = [V¯]S (XIV.)B when American rating and time scale could have been adopted. Also that it might have been rendered English R = S [V¯]S ÷ constant (XIV.)C which is the cubic form, suitable for the Y.R.A. rating and time allowance. The graphic result in the sail-diagram is the same in each case, viz. a horizontal line for any given class, the limit for each class being one of sail-area alone. It was not adopted because the Council considered that the type evolved from it would be one of excessive length and small displacement; and our experience with the Y.R.A. rule, which approaches it more nearly than any other hull- and sail-area rule, has shown that this estimate was correct. * * * * * We will now examine a few of the rules which rate yachts entirely by hull-measurement. The simplest of the kind is the pure length rule, used for some years on the Solent for racing small yachts up to 30 ft. of L. _See_ chapter on Solent Racing. American R = L (XV.) A Some trouble was taken in 1884 to produce a special time scale for this formula. It was quite unnecessary, because the time scale for tonnage (see XVIII.) then in use could have been employed, (XV.) A being modified to R = L{3} ÷ constant (XV.) B and by adjusting the constant this form of the length rule can be adapted to the time scale of _any_ cubic rule. Thus, the divisor 5,000 adapts it to the Y.R.A. time scale for _rating_. The type resulting from the length rule was, of course, a very fast and powerful boat for its L., carrying an enormous sail-spread--somewhat costly to build and race. Our grandfathers raced their yachts under the old tonnage rule, Tonnage R = L × B × H ÷ 96 (XVI.) H. being depth of hull to deck beam, and L. being measured in various ways at different times. After 1854 it was taken on deck from stem-head to sternpost, and certain deductions made for rake. Eventually the Thames Rule, (L - B) × B × 1/2B ÷ 94 or B{2}(L - B) ÷ 188 (XVII.) _The Rating Rules and Proposals_ +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+-------------+ | | No. | Name of rule or proposal | Rule or proposal | Examples | | Date| in +------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | | text | Cubic rules | Variable÷constant |Decima|Doreen| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1886?| I. |Y.R.A. rule (Dixon Kemp) | LS ÷ 6,000 | 9.98| 9.96| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1892 | II. |Ditto modified (Watson) |(2L+2B÷D)S ÷ 17,000 | 10.06| 9.89| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1892 | VIII. |New York modified (Dixon Kemp)|L{2} [V¯]S ÷ 6,000 | 8.69| 9.56| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1892 | X. |Y.R.A. modified (Dixon Kemp) |(L{2}S)/[3V¯]W÷10,000| 8.80| ? | +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1892 | VII. {Seawanhaka modified }(L+ [V¯]S){3}÷48,000 | 9.39| 9.75| | | {Y.R.A. Committee's rule } | | | +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1892 | XIII. |U.Y.F. rule (Godinet) |G(4L-G) [V¯]S ÷ 520 | 8.57| 9.02| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1892?| XIX. |Old French rule |G{2}(2L-B) ÷ 176 | 12.58| 13.53| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1876?| XVI. |Old English tonnage rule |L B H ÷ 96 | ? | 10.60| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1876-| XVII. |Thames tonnage rule |B{2}(L-B) ÷ 188 | 15.9 | ? | | 80 | | | | | | +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1880-| XVIII.|Y.R.A. tonnage rule |B(L+B){2} ÷ 1,730 | 13.8 | 17.9 | | 86 +-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | | XIV. C|Richardson's rule, cubic form |S [V¯]S ÷ 6,000 | 9.97| 15.7 | | +-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | | XV. B |Length rule, cubic form |L{3} ÷ 5,000 | 9.08| 11.01| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+-------------+ | | No. | Name of rule or proposal | Rule or proposal | Examples | | Date| in +------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | | text | Linear rules | Variable ÷ constant |Decima|Doreen| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ |1882?| III. |Seawanhaka rule | L+ [V¯]S ÷ 2 | 38.33| 38.82| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | ?| IV. |New York rule | 2L+ [V¯]S ÷ 3 | 37.45| 38.57| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | ?| V. |Y.R.A. Rule (Dixon Kemp) | [3V¯]LS ÷ 1 | 39.12| 39.11| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | 1893| XI. |Y.R.A. modified (Thalassa) | LS/M ÷ 72 | 37.23| 38.34| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | 1893| XII. |Seawanhaka ditto (Thalassa) | L+ [V¯]S-[V¯]72M÷ 1 | 36.71| 38.23| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | 1893| IX. |Herreshoff's new rule | L [V¯]S / [3V¯]T÷15 | 38.69| 37.01| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | 1892| VI. |Watson's rule, linear form | 2L+2B+D+[V¯]S ÷ 3.8 | 37.60| 38.58| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | ?-86| XV. A |Length rule | L ÷ 1 | 35.65| 38.05| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ | 1886| XIV. B|Richardson's rule, linear form| [V¯]S ÷ 1 | 41.00| 39.60| +-----+-------+------------------------------+---------------------+------+------+ _The following Dimensions were used in the Examples_ +--------+-------+------+------+------+------+-----+----+------+------+ | ---- | L | L{2} | S |[V¯]S | B | D | G | M |W tons| +--------+-------+------+------+------+------+-----+----+------+------+ | Decima | 35.67 | 1272 | 1679 | 41.0 | 11.0 | 8.5 | 36 | 22.2 | 14.3 | | Doreen | 38.05 | 1448 | 1572 | 39.6 | 11.2 | 8.5 | 36 | 21.7 | ? | +--------+-------+------+------+------+------+-----+----+------+------+ N.B.--G is only approximately correct. It is measured in the French way was evolved and adopted by the Y.R.A. in 1876. And in 1878 it was decided to measure L. on the water-line. In 1880 the Y.R.A. altered the rule to English T = B(L + B){2} ÷ 1730 (XVIII.) The type evolved, as might have been anticipated, had a long, narrow, heavily ballasted, deep-bodied, wall-sided hull, possessing little beauty, small _initial_ stability, and no great speed, considering the sail-area employed to drive it. There was little scope for improvement, and the energies of our best designers were directed to producing yachts which carried large sail-plans on narrow hulls, their L.W.L. often approaching and sometimes exceeding six beams. Nevertheless, this '1730 Rule,' as it is often called, governed first-class racing in British waters from 1880 to 1886. Another hull-measurement rule is the one used for some time in France, and often called the 'Girth Rule.' In its simplest form, it was:-- French T = G{2}(2L - B) ÷ 176 (XIX.) G., the girth, is taken as in Rule XIII. The rule taxes draught heavily, and does not appear to have given satisfaction, or it would not have been changed last October to No. XIII. Many other hull-measurement rules might be mentioned; in fact, a short time ago the yachting press was full of such proposals; but those who make them must be aware of the general feeling among sportsmen in England, France, and America, viz. that sail-area should be taxed in the formula for rating. Any lengthy discussion on rules which do not conform with this opinion is, therefore, a waste of time and energy, and the hull rules just described have been noticed principally on account of their historical interest. * * * * * The rules are numbered consecutively in the order in which they have been examined; the tonnage rules last, although some of them are the most ancient. But it may be convenient for the student to have them grouped somewhat differently and this has been done in the tables on pp. 183, 184, which also afford an opportunity to compare two yachts of similar hull-dimensions, but differing in regard to their length and sail-area, except that the product is equal. 'Doreen' and 'Decima' make an excellent pair for such a comparison, being each 10-rating by the Y.R.A. rule, and of nearly the same beam, draught, girth, and depth of hull, but differing in length and sail-area. The tendencies of those rules which aim at encouraging larger body, like Mr. Herreshoff's, or larger immersed body, like X., XI., and XII., are shown in the tables on pp. 183 and 184, and the student is invited to work out some examples for himself to test their action, as the New York committee has reported in favour of some such modification of existing rules. CHAPTER VIII YACHT'S SAILING BOATS BY THE EARL OF PEMBROKE AND MONTGOMERY 'Why in the world do not yachting people make more use of their sailing boats?' I have often thought, while gazing on a bright breezy morning at some great steam yacht, capable of carrying one or more fine sailing boats, and presently observing her owners and their guests, all arrayed in faultless yachting costume, departing for the shore in their steam launch to spend their time pottering about some dull and dirty little seaport town, when they might, some or all of them, be enjoying the most glorious sail, with who knows what possibilities in the way of fishing thrown in. Even landing and putting off to the ship become a pleasure when they are done under sail instead of steam or oars. I have had many an interesting and exhilarating day's sailing which has been made up entirely of trips between the yacht and the shore with passengers, luggage, provisions, telegrams, and what not. Yet, though in these days large yachts may be numbered by the hundred, and many of them carry fine sailing boats, I can count on the fingers of one hand the vessels I happen to have met which both carry and habitually use a sailing boat for the purposes of cruising, landing, and fishing. It is really very curious; and I can only account for it by supposing that many people who go to sea in large yachts do not know how much amusement there is to be got out of such a boat, and the ease and nicety with which she can be handled. For when there is any wind at all a sailing cutter can land anywhere where it is safe to take a steam launch, and with a little practice it is as easy to take her alongside a ship's ladder as a six-oared gig. And when a yacht is on a cruise, moving daily from port to port, a sailing cutter takes considerably less time to get ready than a steam launch. Anywhere on the coast she can generally be carried in the davits with her mast stepped and rigged, so that there is nothing to do but to lower the ballast into her and loose the sails, and she is ready to start. Of course there are places and days when the steam launch is of use and the sailing boat is not; but they are not so numerous as one might suppose. One year when, after a severe illness, I spent all the spring and early summer cruising in the Mediterranean, and the autumn on the coast of Scotland, I thought it advisable to take a steam launch as well as my sailing cutter. I found that at the end of this long cruise I had used her just three times. I have never carried one since. It is not advisable on vessels of less than 400 tons (yacht measurement) to carry two such heavy boats. They are not safe in the davits on an ocean voyage, and two of them carried inboard completely block the deck amidships; but a yacht of 500 tons or more can perfectly carry both, if a steam launch is considered necessary. As for the fun to be got out of her, a good sailing boat simply doubles the pleasure of yachting. It combines the amusement of small yacht sailing with all the advantages and comforts of a large vessel to sail in from port to port. When the anchor goes down, and fires are banked or put out, your fun begins rather than ends. In less than half an hour you are off in your cutter, to sail, to fish, or to explore; perhaps, when you are tired of sailing, to land in some snug, inviting cove, and to feel the fascination of a ramble in strange and beautiful ground; to sit on the hillside and watch the sun go down in glory, and to make your way back to the ship as the rosy light dies out and the purple hills grow black. And the next day, let us suppose, is a fine one. Sea and sky are of a rapturous blue, and a pleasant summer breeze is blowing in from the sea. The great yachting question of the morning, 'What shall we do to-day?' is scarcely debated at breakfast at all. It is pre-eminently a day for sailing. The cutter is got ready at once, and you beat out towards the open water. In all probability there are fish to be caught, for you noted a quantity of birds fishing off the mouth of the bay when you steamed in yesterday--but you really hardly care whether there are fish or not, it is so good simply to be alive and sailing the sea on such a day. The sun warms you through in your shirt sleeves, the steady breeze is balmy to feel, and though it is the coast of Scotland you are vaguely reminded of coral islands and trade winds. [Illustration: Whales.] As you work out to seaward it becomes evident that you are in a fishy sea, for the foolish confidential little guillemots and razorbills (he that shooteth such knoweth not how to live nor the nature and object of things) are squeaking and croaking and ducking under water all round. And lo! close ahead appear two whales, not mere black fish (whatever they may be), but great fellows looking 40 feet long on a moderately calm computation, spouting and showing their black backs at intervals. You go as close to them as they will let you and watch with breathless fascination their oily movements so full of lazy strength and sensuous enjoyment; and you call them bottle-noses or finbacks or rorquals according to your individual taste and fancy; for the scientific classification of whales is in an extraordinarily imperfect state, and even the Encyclopædia, that settler of disputes and averter of quarrels that no yacht should ever be without, will give you but little assistance. But you must tear yourself away from the whales, for half a mile to windward there you sight a cloud of birds fishing furiously, the gannets swooping and soaring, and then suddenly shutting their wings and dropping in quick succession, pop, pop, pop, like bullets into the sea; and a dense mass of gulls flying and swimming, screaming and squattering, and flapping their wings on the surface of the water. How a gull ever gets a living is a wonder; he seems so dainty and hesitating and afraid to commit himself. A gannet will soar, plunge, dive under water, and swallow half a dozen little fish while a gull is apparently making up his mind whether it is worth while to risk wetting his feet. As soon as your boat will fetch, you go about and stand straight for the birds, overhauling meanwhile the 'whiffing' or 'railing' lines that are towing astern, to make sure that there is nothing foul, and that there is no seaweed on your silvery spinners. You are all keen, but not too sanguine, for there is never a certainty of catching fish like this. Sometimes you may sail backwards and forwards till you are sick of it through a mob of feeding seabirds, trying every sort of bait and never getting a ghost of a bite. Either it is herring that they are after, or else it is that the unknown big fish who are hunting up the small fry to the birds from below will not take a bait. You are close now, and there is a noise not unlike that of the parrot-house in the Zoological Gardens. Mackerel is what you hope for; gurnard you will put up with; pollack will not be caught in any numbers so far from the shore. You shake your sails to reduce your pace, and then, filling them again, stand straight in amongst the screaming gulls, and as they reluctantly rise from the water and the little guillemots squatter away and dive, you get a rapid vision of fish shooting about near the top of the water and little tiny silver things rippling its surface and hopping feebly above. A moment more and the lines tauten: 'Mackerel it is, by Jingo!' and as soon as the lines are out again and no one feels another bite, round goes the boat again, and back through the school. So you go on, sometimes catching them slowly and singly, sometimes two at once as fast as the lines can be got out, until you have several dozen in the bottom of the boat. All of a sudden the fish cease to bite and the birds fly away. They gather again into a new cluster half a mile off, and away you go for it as fast as you can sail, and begin catching fish once more. Once more the fish stop biting, and the birds move off, and you can see no more of them fishing except a very few a long way to windward. It seems a sin to go home on such a day, and it is too early to try for pollack with so bright a sun. But your chart shows you a fishing-bank close to, and you have got a few herrings for bait; so you make for this place, and get the exact spot by the relative bearings of points and islands, and drop your anchor in twenty fathoms. Hardly are the lines down before it becomes evident that you are in the right place. Whiting, haddock, and gurnard come up with rapidity, varied by an occasional cod, skate, or bream. You have caught quite a lot before the dog-fish set in. Then it is all over. First comes one, then another, and then nothing else. In vain you despatch them with knives and throw their bleeding corpses back into the sea to terrify the rest. Dogfish have no nerves that you can work upon in this way. The sight and smell of their murdered relations and friends only whet their appetites and make them the more greedy. You give it up in despair, haul your anchor up, and get under sail once more. It is now late in the afternoon. The day has changed for the worse--weather changes quick in these latitudes--and looks rather wild and windy, with promise of more to come before long. But your port is to leeward, so you need not be anxious, and you make up your minds to fish for pollack round the headlands and the islands at the mouth of the bay; for just before sundown is the best time of all, especially if it is about half flood. You take a reef down in both sails to make the boat slower and easier to handle, for you do not want to have to devote all your attention to keeping her right side up when you are fishing for pollack close in to the rocks. The tack is triced up so as to let the steerer see under it; a crutch is shipped on each side of the boat, and a couple of oars are cleared and made ready for instant use if required. One man stands up in the bows to look out for rocks, and also to attend to the peak halliards when called upon; two others handle the lines on which a red or a white india-rubber sand-eel has been substituted for the spinners; while the steerer takes tiller in one hand and mainsheet in the other, and concentrates all his faculties on regulating the pace of the boat, and going as near as he can to the rocks without incurring shipwreck or fouling the lines. [Illustration: The swoop of the gannet.] In this order you coast slowly along about twenty yards from the steep cliffs, running out occasionally to avoid reefs and shoal places, the steerer keeping the speed to something under three knots an hour by slacking the mainsheet and spilling the sail when the wind is abeam, and hauling it right in when it is aft, occasionally dropping the peak as well. Every now and then, generally off a point, you catch a fish, and when you do you go about to see if there are more in the same place. But fish seem scarce, and the sport is rather slow until you sail through a narrow channel between two islands. Then in a moment there is a heavy fish on each line, and no sooner are they hauled on board and the lines thrown out again than the same thing happens. You have struck fish at last in earnest. While the hooks are being disengaged up goes the peak, and you stand back close-hauled through the narrow channel. Backwards and forwards you go, again and again, with varying luck. Now you haul in two at a time, now you give a groan of dismay as a monster gets off as you are in the act of swinging him in. Sometimes the boat will not go fast enough to make the fish bite, and there is agony of mind; sometimes it _will_ go too fast. But on the whole the fishing is fast and furious, and you are all wild with excitement; and then--snap goes a snooding with a particularly big fish, and you must fish with one line till the other is refitted. The wind heads the boat off standing back through the channel this time; the centreboard hits a rock and bumps up into its case; there is no harm done, but alas! the remaining line gets foul of the rock before it can be shortened up, and snaps above the lead, and there is nothing for it but to stand off until the tackle is repaired; the steersman, who has to look on, grinding his teeth with impatience as the precious moments slip away. But, though minutes seem hours, you are soon at work again, and by the time that darkness brings the sport to an end you have caught some four dozen fine pollack, the larger ones 9 lb. or 10 lb. apiece. And you sail home full of that sense of physical well-being and mental contentment that comes of a long day spent in pure air, healthy enjoyment, and freedom from care. And, somehow, it is not on days like these that one looks back with the keenest sense of having wasted time. Or imagine a morning of quite another sort. The sky is gloomy; the sun is quite invisible; it is raining occasionally, and a strong searching wind is blowing. The seas are running up in magnificent white masses on the islands outside the mouth of the loch. It is too cold to sit on deck; indeed it seems cold everywhere on board. It is impossible to do anything with the yacht, for you want to go south, and it is evidently blowing a gale outside from the south-west. It is the sort of day on which, if you had no boat, and there was nothing to do on shore, you would sit shivering most of the time below, trying to read, thinking what a miserable business yachting is in bad weather, and feeling ill from defective circulation. But if you have a good boat such a day has positive charms. You and your boating pal look in each other's eyes and say, almost in a breath, 'Let's beat out round the islands and see what the sea is like.' Indeed you almost persuade yourselves that it is a duty to do so with a view to the possibility of getting away to-morrow. So your boat is hauled alongside, and a little extra ballast is put in, and you and your mate get your oilskins, and, dropping into her, double reef your mainsail and foresail, and shove off. And by the time you have got your sheets trimmed, your halliards coiled away, and everything made snug, you are already as warm as any reasonable men can wish to be. It is a long leg and a short one out of the harbour, and you get a heavy puff now and again from over the high land that brings your lee-rail level with the water, and makes you luff in a hurry. Three or four tacks bring you to the headlands of the bay, and as you stand out from under the weather-shore you begin to feel the real wind and sea. There is plenty of both, and you have to do all you know with tiller and sheet to negotiate the big seas that roll up on the weather-bow and to keep the lee-gunwale out of the water at the same time. It is just a little more than you can manage. A couple of steep combers that you have to luff up to knock all the way out of the boat and make her stagger; the next sea throws her head off the wind, while at the same time a heavy puff forces her lee-side under water. You put the helm down, but she has had no time to gather much way, and is slow coming to; you are forced to let go the sheet, but she has taken a good drop on board before she comes up, and there are more big seas coming. 'It won't do,' you say to your mate; 'we must have another reef in.' So you drop your peak, and wear, and run back under the shelter of the point, and take your third reef down. Then you stand out and try again; and it is wonderful what a difference the reduction of canvas has made. She stands well up, and rides beautifully over the big seas, hardly shipping a cupful of water as she rears up and lets them pass under her. It is an art, if a simple one, steering a boat to windward in a big sea. You have to put her almost straight at the worst seas, and yet you must never let her lose way, or she will fall off broadside to the sea, and perhaps be too 'sick' to come to again in time to prevent a vicious wave from breaking on board or capsizing her. And there are few things more exhilarating. Every big sea successfully surmounted is a triumph in itself, and the winning of ground to windward foot by foot against wind and sea feels like an arduous but steadily victorious struggle against a sturdy foe. And now you find you can weather the island, and, choosing a 'smooth,' go about for the last time. If the seas breaking on it looked fine from the yacht nearly three miles off, they look awe-inspiring now close under your lee with their roar thundering in your ears. Now you are no longer riding head first over the seas, but running free at a slashing pace, sheet in hand, watching the sea narrowly over your shoulder, ready to luff instantly if some specially dangerous monster should make it necessary. And when you are well clear of the rocks you bear up and run before it--most glorious and exulting sensation of all. The big seas come hissing and growling up in pursuit, and lift up her stern on high, and the boat seems positively to fly as she tears down their steep faces. You have to use all your strength at the tiller to keep her straight, and your mate keeps the peak halliards in hand and lowers the peak now and again to ease your task and avert a possible broach to. In less than half an hour you are back on board the yacht; a little wet, maybe, but tingling with exhilaration, and warmed through for the rest of the day. These are but two typical sails out of many that might be sketched, for the variations of weather and sea and coast are nearly endless, and the yachtsman who is a persistent boat-sailer will find his memory stocked with glowing recollections of rapturous sails and fascinating explorations wherever his yacht has taken him--in breezy English waters, and on the wild west coasts of Scotland and Ireland; in Greece and Italy, and many a pleasant land in the Mediterranean Sea; perhaps even the Coral Islands of the South Pacific, and the wooded bays of far New Zealand. Of course there is a reverse side to the picture--days when storms make sailing too dangerous to be quite pleasant, and more often, days when want of wind makes it almost intolerably tiresome. To row, or be rowed in, a heavy boat halfway across the Bay of Naples by night is certainly an experience in tediousness. Though even such an ordeal as that is not quite without its compensations. But I feel it is rash of me to say so. Like so many things material and other in the world we live in, every boat is necessarily a compromise between inconsistent objects. In building a boat you must compromise somewhere between speed and stability, weatherliness and the advantages of light draught. And in the case of a yacht's boat freedom of choice in design is limited by some special considerations. She must not be too heavy to carry in the davits; she must not exceed a certain length, say 25 feet; she must not be too broad in the beam to be carried inboard; and her draught of water must be somewhat shallow for the sake of convenience in landing. Subject to these conditions, stability is, I am sure, the object that should principally be aimed at in the construction of a yacht's boat. The ever-present and the most serious danger of boat-sailing is that of being overpowered by weather: that is to say, of being overtaken by a wind so strong that the boat will not carry any canvas sufficient to work her without instantly capsizing or filling with water. And a very ordinary gale of wind, such as occurs on our coasts once at least in most months of the year, will be enough for this, and will, especially if combined with sea, so overpower any open boat, of a size that can be carried on a yacht, that is exposed to its full strength, that she will be unable to show any canvas to it except just to scud before it. I am aware that this statement will be felt a little startling, perhaps even by some sailors; but I have tried a good many experiments in sailing boats in rough weather, and I am sure it is true of any boat that the yacht-owner is likely to carry. Builders of yachts' sailing boats are not, somehow, usually very successful in making boats 'stiff.' They will not make them flat enough in the floor, or, if they do, do not make it the right shape. Their idea, generally, is to build a boat that will beat boats of a similar class in regattas, and sail fast on a fine day in the smooth waters of a harbour; and if you allow them their own way, they will generally provide you with a crank boat, over-masted and over-canvassed, that may sail very fast in a light wind and smooth water, but which will be overpowered at once in a fresh breeze and a choppy sea. And some day, even perhaps after you have done your best to make her more seaworthy by lightening her mast and cutting down her canvas, you may have the mortification of seeing a fishing-boat no larger than your own craft making a good passage and standing up like a stake under her close-reefed sail, whilst you are unable to show a rag to the wind without being at once overpowered. And remember that you cannot make an open boat stiff by the simple process of loading her with ballast, as even some sailors vainly suppose. Beyond the amount which brings her to her best sailing trim in a good breeze, and which experience of the boat will teach you, additional ballast hardly makes her appreciably stiffer, and does make her very appreciably slower. Make stability, then, your primary object, and impress on your builder that he must not sacrifice it to speed; and that, as it is out of the question to obtain it by means of a lead or iron keel, the weight of such a thing in the case of a large boat being quite prohibitory (not to speak of inconvenience in landing), he must make her flat in the floor and give her plenty of beam. With the same object in mind, her spread of canvas should be moderate but sufficient, and her masts and spars no heavier than is really necessary. These are generally quite needlessly stout. If the mast is strong enough to capsize the boat without breaking, it is as strong as it need be; anything beyond this merely means additional topweight, decreasing the stability of the boat, and doing no service. A very light mast, if properly stayed by a couple of wire shrouds on each side, will stand an immense strain. It is a disputable question whether such a boat should be a lifeboat. The air-tight compartments, usually made of copper, certainly add to her weight, and, some say, make her less stiff. On the other hand, it is pleasant to feel that your boat is unsinkable, and that if you knock a hole through her bottom with a rock, or ship an unlucky sea, she will not go down. But if you decide, as I should do, on a lifeboat, be sure that she really is one, and that her air-tight compartments are large enough to float her with ballast and crew on board. A 25-ft. cutter, such as is built by White of Cowes, will carry more than half a ton of ballast and half a dozen people quite comfortably when she is full of water. But I have seen small steam-launches, nominally lifeboats, that would undoubtedly, with their engines and boilers on board, sink like stones if they were filled with water. Wooden air-tight compartments are lighter than copper tanks, but they are apt to warp and become leaky. Twenty-two years ago, in New Zealand, I had a lifeboat sailing-cutter sent out to me by long sea that I had had built for me in England. As soon as she arrived I took a friend out for a sail on a rough day and filled her with water, just to show him her marvellous properties. The result was ignominious. The water-tight (!) compartments filled, and we drifted helplessly home, thanking the Fates that we had nothing but water ballast on board. The shape of the stern is another point on which opinions may reasonably differ. There is much to be said in favour of a boat being sharp at both ends. A sharp stern is undoubtedly safer when running through broken water or before a heavy sea, and when a boat 'squats' in running before a strong wind it does not drag dead water behind it, and makes a cleaner wake. But unless increased length can be given to the boat it diminishes stiffness. The square-sterned boat carries her bearings farther aft, and so, if both are of the same length, the square-sterned boat, other things being equal, will be the stiffest of the two. But if you decide for a square stern let the boat have a fine run aft, and let the square surface of the stern be small and well up out of the water. Any sort of a counter is an abomination, dangerous to a boat in a sea-way. She should have a good side; that is, a high side above water. It adds to her stability, as well as making her much drier. If her side is rather low, washboards fixed along the top of the gunwale will be found advantageous in rough weather. She should be higher out of water at both ends than amidships, and the line of her rail should describe a graceful curve from bow to stern. A boat that looks quite level from end to end is generally a poor sea-boat, and, if her bottom corresponds with her top, a bad steerer besides. I think she should certainly have a centreboard. Several of the smartest yachts' cutters use instead a half-moon-shaped keel of galvanised iron, clamped on to the keel of the boat. I cannot see that this contrivance, which makes a boat useless for anything but deep-water sailing, has any advantages of its own over a centreboard, and its disadvantages are serious. It makes it impossible to beach the boat, or to attempt any landing-place when the water may be shallow, and whenever the boat runs aground or hits a rock, as she is sure to do sometimes when fishing or exploring, it is nearly certain to get broken or bent; and whenever it is left behind, a boat of this kind will cease to be very weatherly, and may even miss stays. Moreover, it must be rather an awkward thing to put on and take off when the boat is in the davits. [Illustration: 'Black Pearl's' cutter, midship section.] A wooden false keel of more graduated shape, deep in the middle and tapering to nothing at the ends, is a better contrivance, but it is open to some of the same objections about landing, in a minor degree. It is hardly necessary at the present day to combat the prejudice against centreboards. But for many years there was a curious dislike and distrust of them among British boat-sailers and builders. They were excluded altogether from most regattas; and not one in twenty of the boats that would have been vastly improved by them were ever fitted with them. They were regarded, for some mysterious reason, as unseaworthy, unsportsmanlike, and unfair; and when the average boating man found his craft beaten out of sight in going to windward by a centreboard boat, he considered the discovery that she had a centreboard a satisfactory explanation of his defeat, and seldom drew the further conclusion that a centreboard was an excellent thing. And yet, after nearly twenty-five years' experience of them, I have never been able to discover what the objections to them are. The case of the centreboard is said to get in the way; but unless you want to load your whole boat with very bulky cargo, I am unable to conceive what it can get in the way of. And the merits of a centreboard are many and obvious. It enables you to combine the advantages of deep and shallow draught. You can run your boat up on a beach, and be holding your own to windward against a deep-keeled yacht ten minutes afterwards. It makes the most ordinary boat weatherly, smart, and handy to steer. It gives you timely warning of shallow water, and the only result of its touching the bottom or striking a rock is to send it up into its case. I have never had my centreboard either bent or broken by such contact. But it is well to have it lowered on a chain or wire rather than on an iron shank, with a joint or two near the handle, as in most of White's boats. Because when the centreboard hits the bottom and is forced up into the case, these joints will double up inside the case, and the solid part of the shank be driven through the top of it; which would be unpleasant for anyone who happened to be sitting there. A centreboard, except in so far as its weight makes ballast, does not make a boat stiffer, as the uninitiated often suppose, but in the case of a broad, shallow boat, rather the reverse, as it prevents her from being blown away to leeward. And in a boat such as is being here considered, it should not be too heavy for one man to haul up. It should be made of a thin sheet of galvanised iron. As regards her rig, nothing is really so handy and capable as the cutter, or, to speak more accurately, the sloop rig; consisting of mainsail and foresail, as ordinary working canvas. I prefer the sloop rig of a single foresail on a short iron bumpkin, to the end of which the forestay is attached, to the cutter rig of staysail and jib with a regular bowsprit; for a bowsprit is an awkward thing in rounding to and coming alongside a ship, under all sorts of conditions of wind and tide, and a second head-sail gives you more gear to attend to when you are single-handed. And on a boat of this size a single foresail is not too large to be easily handled. What makes this rig so suitable for the peculiar and varied purposes of a yacht's boat is, that, with mainsheet and peak halliards kept in hand, it gives such absolute control over the pace and direction of the boat at a moment's notice. In whiffing round the rocks after pollack, for instance, in a flawy wind, by lowering and raising the peak, and easing off and hauling in the mainsheet, it is easy to maintain a perfectly level pace of two or three knots. In a squall, or in going alongside a ship or a landing-place, the peak can be dropped and the boat eased or checked at once without becoming unsailable. This constitutes, in my opinion, a very important advantage over the standing lugsail, of which, of course, the peak cannot be lowered. A downhaul should be attached to the end of the gaff, as the peak will not always drop when the wind is pressing the sail against the topping lift. [Illustration: Mainsheet on iron horse.] The foresheets should lead aft and be made fast round cleats or pins within reach of the steersman for convenience when sailing single-handed; the mainsheet should travel on an iron horse across the stern; but care should be taken that the shackle, A, that attaches the block to the horse, should be of a size and shape that will not jam when the block hangs down loosely, and perhaps takes a turn, as it may in going about. One squally day this year, the writer, who had always wondered how people could be so foolish as to get drowned through their mainsheets being foul, found himself, after going about, with the lower block of his mainsheet twisted and jammed under the horse, at such an angle that the sheet would not run: while, to make the mischief complete, the tiller was jammed by the block as well, so that he could neither luff nor ease the sheet. [Illustration: Sail-plan, 'Black Pearl's' cutter.] A jackyard topsail that requires no topmast can be set, and a spinnaker will be found very useful for running in light weather. A bowsprit can also be run out and a jib set; but this will probably be found to upset the balance of sail on the centreboard, and make her carry lee-helm, in which case it will be of no use. If a standing lugsail is preferred, the peak should be cut high, and the long yard should be as light as is consistent with the necessary strength. I can see no advantage over the cutter mainsail, except that the halliards are rather simpler. Old sailors and fishermen will tell you that a boat with a yard is always stiffer than one with a gaff. With a dipping lug, such as fishermen use, or a balance lug, this seems not improbable, as in these rigs a considerable part of the yard and sail is to windward or in front of the mast; but with a standing lugsail, which, if it has a boom, is practically identical in shape with a cutter's mainsail, it is hard to believe that there is much in it--the peak halliards can hardly make much difference. A balance lug, however excellent for racing or for fine-weather sailing in protected waters, is unsuited for the varied purposes of a yacht's cutter, and the rough experiences to which she will be exposed. For it is not possible either to lower the peak, or to trice up the tack, or to brail up the sail by means of the topping-lift, and in a squall it is not unlikely to jam against the mast and refuse to come down. Though the yawl may not be quite so handy as the cutter-rig in the matter of instantaneous control of pace and direction--for there is the mizzen as well as the mainsail to think about--it has certain special and important advantages of its own. When it is necessary to shorten sail, to strike the mizzen is equivalent to taking a reef in the mainsail without any of the difficulty and delay involved in that operation; or you can lower the mainsail and reef it at leisure whilst you sail under foresail and mizzen. To lower the mainsail of a cutter in order to reef it involves losing way and falling off to leeward. Moreover, whether the sail be up or down, it is much easier to take reefs down on the main-boom of a yawl, which is well inside the boat, than on that of a cutter, which is right out over the stern. To haul down and secure the earing on the main-boom of a cutter when she is plunging in a sea-way and burying her rail with the force of the wind is a difficult and even dangerous operation, which is not unlikely to end, if you are not careful, in your finding yourself in the sea and your boat careering gaily away without you. The tiller of a yawl must be shaped or placed so that the mizzen-mast does not get in its way; there are several ways of contriving this. A yoke with lines does not give sufficient power, unless so large as to be inconvenient. [Illustration: 'Aline's' cutter (Colonel Gamble).] The amount of ballast required will depend somewhat on the shape of the boat, but about 11 cwt. will probably be found to be about the right amount for a 25-ft. boat with three or four men on board under ordinary circumstances. When there is a very strong wind and fewer hands on board, an extra 2 cwt. or 3 cwt. may be added. But much extra ballast makes a boat slow--much more so, oddly enough, than the same amount of weight in people--without adding very much to her stability. Blocks of lead about 1/2 cwt. each make the best ballast. These should be cast so as to fit two long boxes along the floor on each side of the keel in the centre of the boat. But it is well to have some of the ballast in the form of shot-bags weighing about 40 lbs. each, which can be placed further aft and shifted about as required. Water ballast is unsatisfactory. Its bulk is not the only objection. Its specific gravity is so small that it will not make a boat stiff, and so even a boat that has no water-tight compartments will be safer in a strong wind with lead or iron ballast. A lifeboat that will float 3/4 ton of lead or iron is, of course, much more so. I give here dimensions, drawings, and diagrams of two typical yachts' sailing boats, well suited for knocking about in all sorts of weather, one belonging to the writer, the other to Colonel Gamble of the 'Aline.' The former, the 'Black Pearl's' cutter, is a 25-ft. lifeboat, with copper air-tanks, built by Messrs. Fay & Co., from a design of T. Soper's, with a centreboard, and sloop-rigged. She has a high side, and a good deal of shear, while her forefoot is somewhat cut away. She is fairly fast, and weatherly, fairly stiff, and a beautiful sea-boat. She carries usually 11 cwt. of ballast, occasionally as much as 14 cwt. [Illustration: s.s. 'Aline's' lifeboat (Colonel Gamble, C.B.)] Colonel Gamble's boat is a 22-ft. lifeboat, with wooden air-tight compartments, of the Lamb & White pattern, built by Hansen & Sons. She has no centreboard, but a 9-in. wooden false keel, deepest in the middle, and tapering to nothing at the ends, is screwed on to her keel. She carries a standing lug mainsail, and a foresail. The peak of her lugsail is cut very high, and her mast, yard, and boom are very light and workmanlike. Her side and ends are less high out of the water, and she is in every way a smaller boat than the 'Black Pearl's' cutter, and probably less of a boat in a sea-way: but she can sail round the latter in a light wind, and in a strong one is very nearly as fast, and stands up like a stake. The reader will please to notice the flatness of her floor in the drawing of her midship section on p. 207. She has been, I believe, very successful in races against boats of her class, showing that speed and stability are not quite so incompatible as they are sometimes supposed to be. She carries usually about 9 cwt. of ballast in shot-bags, and when full of water will float 4 in. clear of the sea, with that ballast and four men on board. 'BLACK PEARL'S' CUTTER | 'ALINE'S' CUTTER ft. in. | ft. in. Length 25 0 | Length 22 0 Beam 7 1 | Beam 6 3 Depth amidships from | Depth inside 2 7 gunwale to outside | Depth of keel from outside garboard 3 2-3/4 | garboard 3-1/2 Depth of keel from outside | Depth of additional false of garboard 5-1/4 | keel 9 Draught of water with | Draught of water with 11 cwt. of ballast and | 9 cwt. of ballast and crew 2 0-1/2 | crew 1 10 Draught with centreboard | Ditto with false keel down 5 0 | added 2 7 | | _Sail plan_ | | Length of mast from | step to hounds 16 0 | _Sail plan_ Ditto from step to | masthead 19 7 | Length of mast 14 0 Length of main-boom 20 4 | Length of main-boom 16 9 Length of gaff 11 3 | Length of yard 19 0 It does not come within the scope of this chapter to give a full and elementary manual of the art of boat-sailing. Descriptions of the thousand and one things belonging to a yacht and the sailing of her, a glossary of nautical terms and their meaning, and a full account of the art of sailing are given in another portion of this work. The leading principles of boat-sailing are the same as those for sailing a larger vessel. The gear of a boat, as far as it goes, is identical, and the knots, bends, and hitches that are most used are common to both. I need not, therefore, describe them, nor waste space by repetition in giving such elementary directions as that a boat should be luffed in a squall, or in explaining what is meant by 'gybing' a boat or 'putting her about.' But there are some things in the art of sailing that have a special application to open boats, so perhaps I may be allowed, even at the cost of an occasional repetition of what has been said elsewhere, to give a few hints and directions, based upon practical experience, as to the handling of a boat, together with some of the simple rules that experience has taught me are the most important to remember, even though some of these may seem to be of a very elementary character. [Illustration: Earl of Pembroke's 'Black Pearl's' cutter.] The yachtsman who is inexperienced, or much out of practice in the management of a boat, had far better take a sailor or a couple of sailors with him. By observing what they do he will learn or remember how to do things properly, and the tiro will pick up in a day or two, from watching an expert, many things that he would take long to learn for himself. Indeed, I think that in dangerous weather it is always as well to have a seaman on board. He will be unnecessary, probably, if nothing happens--that is to say, if nothing carries away or gets jammed; but it is just on such days that things do happen, and it is in such emergencies that the difference between a sailor and an ordinary amateur becomes widest. A good sailor has some resource for almost everything that can happen, and if one thing will not do he tries something else. Even if the amateur is as quick to know what should be done, he is usually far slower and more clumsy in the doing of it. Suppose, to take a very simple instance, the peak halliards carry away. How many amateurs are there who could make a long splice and re-reeve them with reasonable expedition? In a tumble of a sea, with a lee shore imminent, the mere reeving of them, if no splice is required, will very likely bother him considerably. Still no one will ever be a passable boat-sailer, or will ever enjoy boat-sailing as it can be enjoyed, until he learns to dispense with professional assistance and to manage his boat single-handed if necessary. So, when he has learnt with his eyes, as far as a man can, how things should be done, other than steering and giving orders, let him go out alone or with an amateur like himself and learn his business. Let him choose a fine day and sail away if possible out of sight of the most powerful glasses on his ship, and then deliberately and of set purpose practise everything essential that is comprised in the art of boat-sailing. He will instantly discover that between knowing how things are done and doing them there is an extraordinary difference, and he will find himself curiously awkward in doing what he has seen his men do a hundred times. He will make acquaintance with the malign tendency of all ropes to get foul of each other, and the strange law that whenever you are trying to put something right on a boat something else always goes wrong. When he first tries to reef his sails--he will do it at anchor if he is wise--he will find that the foretack is horribly inconvenient to get at, and that the foresail will keep running up the stay and muffling his head, while the main-boom seems to be possessed by a devil and tries to push him overboard whichever side of it he gets. When he gets under way again he finds that he has got the anchor-line foul of the foresheets, and while he is clearing these and re-reeving them through their fairleads, a puff of wind knocks the boat nearly flat and sends him scrambling aft to the tiller and the mainsheet. He will bruise his shins and bark his knuckles all manner of ways--he hardly knows how; he will get hot and blown, and go near to tumbling overboard in the violence of his exertions; he will do things and he will forget to do things that it will make him blush in bed to remember afterwards. But let him not feel too deeply humiliated. For even experienced sailors will make the most monstrous blunders in a boat when they are strange to her, and to boatwork; and he will find that his awkwardness seems to vanish miraculously after a few lessons, and it will not be long before he has the satisfaction of feeling that he can handle his boat as well as any man on the ship. It is foolish to go far, and especially far to leeward, when there is every appearance of bad weather coming on, and a low glass. You may do it many times with impunity, but some day you are sure to get caught, and the consequences may be serious. Remember that you are always liable to meet with an amount of wind that your boat will not be able to bear under the shortest canvas that you can work her with. Many people do not realise this; and indeed it requires some powers of imagination, when a boat is standing stiffly up under her full canvas in a good breeze, to realise that in a few hours, or even minutes, there may come an amount of wind which will make it impossible to keep her lee-rail out of the water even with close-reefed sails and sheets flying loose. But a few rough and unpleasant experiences will soon convince the young boat-sailer of the fact, and teach him that a boat has no business to be out in a gale of wind, and that when he is caught in one the thing to do, if it is possible, is to gain shelter at once. If he sails much he will come across plenty of bad weather without courting it, and when he does he will probably meet it with more coolness and confidence if he is free from the depressing sensation that the scrape into which he has got himself, and perhaps others as well, is entirely due to his own wanton folly. It is always best, if possible, to reef down and make everything snug before the squall or storm comes upon you; but you cannot be continually reefing down for every threatening cloud, so this is not always practicable. When the wind has become too strong for the sail you are carrying, you will have to act according to circumstances. It is not always wise to attempt to reef at once. There may not be sea-room enough to lower down the sails to reef them, and to attempt to reef a cutter's mainsail in a squall when she is nearly overpowered by wind is extremely dangerous. For the sheet must be hauled right in, and cannot be eased while the earing is being made fast. It is better under such circumstances to lower your peak altogether, taking up any slack in the topping-lift so as to support the boom. This will ease the boat immensely, and gives you a capital leg-of-mutton sail. Possibly this will be a sufficient reduction, and you may stand on under this canvas until you get shelter, or sea-room to reef in, or there comes a lull in the squall. If it is not, and the boat is still overpowered, haul down the foresail as well and double reef it, and when it is set again you can, if you have then got sea-room, take down the reefs in your mainsail, keeping the peak down all the time. There are generally three reefs in a cutter's mainsail. If when these are taken down you have still too much canvas, let the throat run down, and lash the jaws of the gaff down to the boom. It is well to have a line of reef points running from the throat of the mainsail to the cringle of the third reef on the after-leach to make this arrangement snug. It is then called a balance reef. Most boats will stand rather more wind when it is on the beam than they will when they are close hauled. For while they do not feel it quite so hard, it is easier to keep good way on, and you can spill the sails by slacking the sheets as much as you like without fear of losing it. So that in smooth water you will be as safe in a blow with the wind abeam as you are when sailing close to it and luffing up into the puffs. But a beam sea is the most dangerous sea of all, and when it is heavy you must always be ready either to luff up towards it, or to keep right away before it, as may be best. But if you do the former be careful not to have too much way on, or you will run your boat's nose right into the sea. If your course gives you a dangerous beam sea the best plan is to keep your luff until your port is well to leeward, and then up helm and run for it. In running before a strong wind and a dangerous sea do not attempt to carry much sail. It is a common belief among the inexperienced, founded upon nautical literature absorbed in youth, and even amongst some who ought to know better, that you must carry plenty of sail in order to run away from the sea and avoid being pooped. But, in the first place, you cannot run away from the sea, which travels more than twice as fast as any boat can sail, and a press of canvas which buries the boat's stern as it drags her through the water increases the danger of being pooped. Moreover, it makes her harder to steer, and increases the much greater risks of broaching to or running the boat under water in those desperate rushes on the steep front of the big seas, which are at once the danger and the delight of running before a wind. So far from its being desirable to emulate the pace of the sea, the sooner the wave passes the boat, and the shorter, therefore, these rushes are, the less is the danger. I learned this once by experience. Many years ago, on the coast of New Zealand, I was caught out at sea by a gale of wind in a 13-ft. sailing dinghy, and had to run home before it in a short, dangerous, rapidly rising sea. The little boat tore before the wind under a reefed mainsail and jib, running her nose and stern alternately level with the water, until it became evident that we should be swamped in a few minutes. I ordered the man who was with me to haul down the sail. The moment he did so the little boat, which was sharp at both ends and was steered with an oar, began to ride the seas like a duck, and we ran home before the gale with ease and safety under a bare stick and a fragment of head-sail. A boat with a sharp stern, steered with an oar, has a great advantage under such circumstances. For the rudder is sometimes right out of the water and useless; and though the water of a great wave does not really move forward with the wave as it appears to do, the breaking top of it does, and when the rudder is in this water, which is going faster than the boat, it is useless for the moment. It is well to have a place for a crutch in the gunwale far aft, so that an oar can be used to steer with if necessary. There is generally less wind under the shelter or lee of the land. But this is not always the case, and the most experienced seaman cannot always foretell whether this will be so or not. Sometimes the wind seems to belong to the land, and there may be little or none of it out at sea. Under high land--cliffs or mountains--you may lose the wind altogether; you may find it blowing in occasional baffling puffs of great violence and uncertain direction, or you may find it blowing much harder, not in puffs merely but altogether. It is not an uncommon experience, especially in the Mediterranean, to run down a coast before a fresh breeze, and to find a perfect tornado blowing when you turn a corner and luff up under the land. This is one of nature's paradoxes--one of the undoubted facts that one occasionally meets which seem opposed to all reason and probability. I do not know how far it has ever been scientifically explained. Some places where there is high land seem to brew their own wind. Loch Scavaig, in Skye, under the Coolin hills, is an instance of this. It may be fine and almost calm outside, but as you sail into its gloomy waters you may find a perfect tempest blowing in or out. It staggers one to think what it must be like in a real gale of wind. In Carlingford Lough, Ireland, last autumn, when there was but a fine-weather breeze blowing outside, the puffs off the mountain on the south of the lough took the form of a succession of regular waterspouts, any one of which would have twisted the mast out of the boat or capsized her if it had struck her. We kept as far to leeward as we could, and most of them died away before they crossed our track, but they felt very uncanny. Speaking generally, high land is always dangerous for boat-sailing, as well as trying to the temper. On a day when there is nothing but a fine-weather breeze elsewhere, under high land you are liable to get puffs as violent while they last as a gale of wind. It is as though the hills bottled up and concentrated the wind, so that when it is let loose it comes with double force; and these puffs are specially dangerous to a boat apart from their force: first, because the angle at which they will strike is so uncertain, and secondly, because, coming from above and striking downwards, a boat does not relieve the pressure on her sails by heeling over as she does when the wind blows horizontally along the water. This is the reason why you will probably find that the squalls that go nearest capsizing your boat are not those that you have seen tearing towards you turning the water into smoke as they come, violent as these may be, but those which you have hardly seen a sign of on the water at all, and which strike the sails with a downward blow straight from the mountain side. The Sound of Raasay, outside Portree Harbour, when a westerly wind is blowing over the tremendous cliffs of Skye, is a fine place for the study of these phenomena. When the wind is blowing up or down a channel with high land on either hand, the fiercest puffs will be near the sides which seem to concentrate the wind, and the safest place will be the middle of the channel. One day, in Loch Scavaig, beating out of that inferno of furious winds against the usual succession of tearing puffs, with double-reefed sails and all passengers down in the bottom of the boat, I stood rather far over one tack under the high mountain on the west side. Just as I was preparing to go about a furious blast struck the boat like a cannon-shot. I thrust the helm down, letting fly the mainsheet. The foresheet fortunately carried away of itself, but for a few seconds a volume of water poured over the rail, and I thought we should go over or fill. A minute later, as we were standing off on the other tack, setting things to rights and pruning our ruffled plumes, my coxswain, a most excellent boat-sailer but a man of a somewhat sardonic humour, remarked grimly, 'I should think that would be a lesson to you in future not to stand over too far under high land.' It has been. Here follow a few of the things which it is well to remember when boat-sailing, whether you are acting as captain or crew, or both in one. As soon as your sails are set and properly trimmed, coil away the ends of all your halliards, topping-lift, &c., in the bottom of the boat, capsizing the coil after you have made it so that the part of the rope that has to go up first becomes uppermost, and so will not get foul when the halliards are let go. See that all your blocks are clear. A reef pendant (earing) getting drawn into the mainsheet block, or a bit of bunting or spunyarn into the block of the peak halliards, may easily cause an accident. [Illustration: The squall in Loch Scavaig, Skye.] See that boathooks, oars, and crutches are all ready for use if required. Never make fast your sheets in any way that can possibly jam, or that a single pull will not set free. The same is advisable with your halliards also. Always see that your mainsheet is clear, and that it cannot get foul of anything in running out. The most favoured lady passenger should not be allowed to put her feet on it. When you have passengers on board in dangerous, squally weather, try to get them to sit down in the bottom of the boat. It adds greatly to stability, besides getting them out of the way. But if there is much water in the boat already, they may require some persuasion. Always carry an anchor or grapple and a line to attach to it, and see that both are ready for instant use if you are likely to want them. The anchor for a 25-ft. boat should weigh about 30 lbs. If it is heavier it will tax your wind severely to get it up quickly in deep water. [Illustration: 'Excuse me.'] Always carry a knife. A sheath-knife is best: there is no difficulty about opening it when fingers are cold, and it will not shut on them when you are using it. Always carry a pocket-compass in case of fog. In what is called a temperate climate always carry oilskins and a sou'wester. Always carry some spare rope, particularly odds and ends of small rope; you may always want it for something. Your spinnaker gear will probably do at a pinch to replace a broken halliard or sheet. When you are exploring and have ladies on board, do not forget to take a landing-board. Always carry some water and biscuits when you may be out many hours. Always have the centreboard down in coming alongside a ship. The boat will answer her helm better and steer more accurately with the centreboard down, as the wind and sea cannot push her about on the surface. If it is ever necessary to leave your boat untended, take great care that she can neither damage herself nor get adrift when the tide rises. Nothing will make you feel so intolerably foolish as to come back and find your boat damaged or gone, perhaps still in sight bobbing away without you. The writer was once left stranded on a small island in the Hauraki Gulf, New Zealand, owing to his man having considered a round stone a suitable object to make a boat fast to. [Illustration: Self-unmoored.] Keep out of the way of steamers and big ships when you can, even when by the rule of the road it is their business to keep out of yours. They will probably expect you to keep clear of them, and, when in narrow waters, are justified in doing so. [Illustration: Never 'moon.'] Finally, never 'moon,' or think about such things as politics, philosophy, or people, when boat-sailing. Frivolous conversation on subjects unconnected with the boat or the weather should be sternly discouraged in any but the most familiar waters and the finest of weather. Distraction is a real danger in boat-sailing, and is probably the commonest cause of fatal accidents. The attention of the boat-sailer should always be concentrated on his business. He has plenty to attend to and think about. He must always have an eye on his sails, and at the same time must keep watching the wind on the water before it reaches him, and the general appearance of the weather. And in spite of these preoccupations he should be continually noting the features of the coast. If he is leaving a place to which he is going to return, he should be constantly taking note of the relative bearings of rocks and headlands by which to remember the proper channel when he comes back, not forgetting that the state of the tide will be different, and carefully observing, therefore, if the tide is low, the position of rocks and shoals that may be submerged on his return, or if it is near high water, the bearing of places which his chart tells him will have to be avoided when the tide is out. In short, it is an engrossing occupation, permitting of no distraction, except perhaps fish, and even _then_ one man must continue to give his attention almost entirely to the boat. There is a time for all things, and the man who wants to talk or to read his book in the boat has no business there. Shelley used to read, it is true, and he was an ardent boat-sailer. But Shelley's case is a bad one to quote as an example, for his boat-sailing came to an unlucky end, and we shall never know now how much or how little that little volume of poetry had to do with it. I have said a good deal in these pages of the dangers of boat-sailing. It has been necessary to insist upon them, because the price of safety in boat-sailing is eternal vigilance and a little knowledge. The careless man may drown himself any day, and there is no saying what mess the complete duffer may not get into. But given the habit of carefulness, which soon becomes instinctive and unconscious, together with a little experience, and a moderate amount of prudence as regards weather, and boat-sailing is certainly not a dangerous sport as sports go. [Illustration: There is no place like home.] CHAPTER IX SMALL YACHT RACING ON THE SOLENT By 'THALASSA' As Lord's is to the cricketer, St. Andrews to the golfer, Newmarket to the lover of the Turf, so is the Solent to the yachtsman--the Solent in its largest sense, not the West Channel only, but the whole of the waters inside the Wight, bounded by fifty miles of shore line, and covering an area of over fifty square sea miles. The West Channel, twelve miles long, is nearly twenty-four square miles; the East Channel, eight miles long, is equal in area; and Southampton Water, six miles long, covers three square miles. Nearly all of it is navigable to yachts, the Brambles being the only midwater shoal which interferes with small vessels of moderate draught. The water of the Solent is clear as crystal, the air healthy as Switzerland, the scenery nearly as beautiful; here are watering places with mirth and music; cities with docks and shipping; men of war and men of peace; clubs and hotels; piers, slips, jetties, and hards; building and repairing sheds; yacht designers and agents; skippers and 'hands'; sail, flag, and rope makers; yachts' ironmongers and purveyors, &c. &c. &c., which etceteras include several snug anchorages and small harbours for those who wish to escape from the general hubbub during the yachting and excursion season. And the whole of this within a two hours' journey of London! Curiously enough, the advantages of the Solent for yachting have only been fully appreciated during the past few years. It is true that the Royal Yacht Squadron was started early in the century, and the Royal Southern and Royal Victoria Yacht Clubs early in the forties; but yachting on the Solent as we know it now was not dreamt of, and the Thames held for many years the leading position as the centre of this essentially English sport. Many things have combined to drive yachts from the Thames. Manure, marmalade, cement, gas, and other manufactories now line its banks; the Barking outfall fouls its waters, and an enormous steamer and barge traffic obstructs them. No wonder the yachtsmen deserted the Thames. But this is not all; a new sport has been born--the racing of small yachts, for which the Thames is peculiarly unsuited. Steam yachting has caused this development of small yacht racing. Men who would otherwise have built or purchased large sailing yachts now prefer steam, and, although they may themselves race but little in any craft, their action has destroyed our fleet of large sailing yachts, and with it the market for outclassed racers of any considerable size. Moreover, the very perfection to which racing has been brought tells in the same direction, because few men can afford to build large racers year by year to replace those which are outclassed. Yacht clubs have increased both in numbers and wealth, and the executives find that racing brings grist to the mill and repays the cost and the trouble. This especially applies to small yacht races, the prizes for which are not a severe tax on a club's exchequer, and can therefore be given more frequently. Owners were not slow to avail themselves of the sport offered, which on trial proved to possess many advantages over large yacht racing. In small craft an owner is more his own master, and frequently steers and sails his own boat. Corinthian hands can form all or a large portion of the crew; ladies can take an active part; the sport is less costly and better fun than with large craft; there are more races; fouls and accidents are less dangerous; and people can get home to dinner. In short, the advantages are so numerous and real that one marvels at any men preferring to act as passengers on board their own yachts in the more ancient sport. Even this adjective belongs really to the boats, as prehistoric men no doubt owned and raced canoes for ages prior to the existence of larger vessels. But we as moderns are concerned with the nineteenth century, during which sailing boats have certainly raced frequently on the Solent. The square stem and stern boat used by the Itchen ferrymen for fishing in Southampton Water and the E. and W. channels is still a favourite type, and during the seventies became almost a class for small yacht racing, inside lead ballast, moulded, being first introduced, then lead keels, until in 1878 heavy lead keels, with fore and aft overhang, became the fashion with racing owners, and the Solent 'Length Classes' were introduced to the yachting world; 21 feet, 25 feet, and 30 feet L.W.L. being the top limits of each class. A scale of time allowance for length was made by the Y.R.A., and the boats developed into great 'brutes' which were efficient sail-carriers if nothing else, the final outcome being over 70 square feet of canvas to each foot of L.W.L., whereas a modern rater in the small classes is driven almost as effectively with 20 square feet per foot of similar hull length. There being no limit to sail in the length classes, it was not a difficult matter to outbuild the crack boat of the year every winter. Each succeeding boat had longer overhang, greater beam, draught, and displacement than her predecessor, and consequently won, being a larger boat and carrying more sail. The table of Solent racers prior to 1886, appended to this chapter, gives some details of interest. A few races were given every year for what was termed the 27-ft. class ('Sorella,' 'Whimbrel,' &c.), also for Itchen punts and for fishermen's boats; and, early in the eighties, races under various conditions were provided for small yachts by the Royal Southampton and Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Clubs, under the energetic direction of their respective Honorary Secretaries, Mr. Wolff and the late Mr. McCheane. These clubs may fairly claim to have started that small yacht racing on the Solent which now employs so many hands in building boats in the winter and sailing them in the summer, and affords so many people a healthy pastime for their leisure hours. The rest of the Solent clubs were not long in following suit, first one then another giving races for small yachts, until in 1891 'The Squadron' so far forgot the distich: Nothing less than 30 T Must ever race with _our_ Burgee, as to permit two 'extra' races for 5- and 2-1/2-raters, the prizes having been subscribed for 'privately' by some sporting members of this distinguished club. The same recurred in 1892 and 1893, but it is impossible to feel overwhelmed with gratitude, as the manner of granting the concession was too like that of an old lady introduced sorely against her will to people and things she deems _infra dig_. On the other hand, the Royal Victoria, or the 'Red Squadron,' as its friends delight to call it, has since 1890 taken to the sport with becoming enthusiasm, the committee being said to possess more knowledge of the requirements of yacht racing than the Y.R.A. itself. This has produced some strange realities which the racing owner may see for himself at Ryde, in the shape of drums, time-post and semaphores galore, together with a 500-guinea cup and other remarkable 'Gold cups in waiting,' if he step ashore and can make friends with the good-natured secretary. The club gave several special days in 1892 and 1893 for matches in the Solent classes, and the Royal Albert did the same at Southsea, in addition to similar races at their annual regatta--a two days' affair. The Royal London and the Royal Southern Yacht Clubs followed suit. In short, these elderly dames of the Solent are acting in a very proper spirit by adopting and assisting to support the offspring of their younger relatives, requiring them simply to belong to something 'Royal _or_ Recognised'--a peculiar distinction somewhat rough on the former word. One caution to the unwary. Some of the senior clubs are very proud of their ordnance, but racing boats of _modern_ construction should give them a clear berth, or the concussion may cause damage. One of the cracks had to proceed to the builder's for repair soon after a race at which that great artillerist the hall porter of the Royal London Yacht Club shook Cowes to its foundations. Certain it is that some racing boats are now built far too light for safety if caught in a gale on the open sea. Returning to the clubs, the table at the end of the chapter gives some prominent facts at a glance, so it will not be necessary to repeat them. An aspirant to fame in any of the small classes should belong to the Royal Southampton Yacht Club. It has plenty of members, of vitality, and 'go.' Its house is good and comfortable, with a fair cuisine and attendance, and its position is excellent for the racing sailor-man. The fees are not heavy,[7] and the sport is good. [Footnote 7: This club has raised its fees this year (1894), finding it impossible to exist on the income derived from nearly seven hundred members, whereas formerly it lived joyously on half the amount.] The beginner will do well to make the acquaintance of the leading members of the committee, for their sound advice and local knowledge may be of service to him; but he may be cautioned not to disturb them after the racing with written memoranda about rounding buoys; the soul of man is not to be worried by such frivolities when absorbed in the worship of crab, tap, or Nap in the cosy cabin of the Committee-boat--and this applies with more or less force to all sailing committees and club secretaries. Some shrug the shoulder and vent an expletive, the more pious sigh deeply and glance to the zenith, while many impose a heavy fine on that enemy of peace and quiet who dares to protest against a breach of the regulations. An exception, however, is said to prove a rule; and the committee of the Castle Yacht Club administers the law with strictness, and perhaps severity. If this policy were general, many of the difficulties connected with yacht racing would disappear, as a large percentage is due to irregularities which sailing committees might easily correct, instead of scanning them with a blind eye at the telescope end. Real sportsmen like rules to be strictly observed and administered, and the discipline enforced at the Calshot racing has, if possible, increased the popularity of the club which was started in 1887 by some eccentric enthusiasts who considered that small yacht racing required further encouragement. At that date the idea was not so preposterous as it now appears; but whether this and other clubs assisted materially in the production of modern racing, or were themselves the products, is a problem for the Macaulay of sport to solve in the dim future, when he writes on the pursuit of pleasure in the nineteenth century. The adoption of the present Y.R.A. rating rule in the winter of 1886 practically killed the 'Length' classes; for, although the Solent clubs continued to support them for another year, no more 'lengthers' were built, and, the existing boats gradually dropping out, the racing with 'footers' collapsed. * * * * * The year 1887 was a turning point in small yacht racing on the Solent, as elsewhere. There was much diversity of opinion as to the suitability of the new rule for small yachts. Mr. Clayton declared in January that 2-1/2-raters would soon be 29 or 30 feet long. Mr. Dixon Kemp, on the other hand, so late as 1881, when the sixth edition of his book was published, gave 'the lengths of water-line ... possible in the classes ... as follows':-- 60 raters, 60 to 70 feet, their 1892 developments being 68 feet 40 " 50 " 60 " " " 59 " 20 " 40 " 50 " " " 46 " 10 " 30 " 40 " " " 38 " 5 " 20 " 30 " " " 34 " 2-1/2 " 16 " 20 " " " 28 " 1 " 10 " 12 " " " 21 " This forecast erred in the three smallest classes, where prophetic utterances, if only for six months, are extremely hazardous. The fact gives additional piquancy to small yacht racing. The Solent clubs most interested in this racing began the year 1887 with a conference on January 28 at Southampton, and another on February 2 at Portsmouth, when it was finally agreed to recommend:-- I. The continuation of length class racing for the season of 1887. II. The adoption of two new classes of square-sterned boats to race under the new rule, viz.-- _(a)_ 2-1/2-raters not exceeding 21 feet L.W.L. _(b)_ 1-1/4 " " " 17 " " In both classes an overhang limit of 1 foot and a mainsail limit of 55 per cent. of the total sail-area. SPECIAL RACING, 1887 Two new boats were built for class (_a_), Miss Cox's 'Madcap' and Colonel Bucknill's 'Thalassa' (see table). They were well matched, the rig being the same, viz. sloop with a small topsail of about 80 square feet. They were capital 'day boats,' with roomy wells, and fairly good performers in a sea-way. At first 'Madcap' proved the faster, but towards the end of the season 'Thalassa' won most prizes, and captured the class medal of the R.S.Y.C. Mr. Campbell's 'Merrythought' was the only new boat in class (_b_), but she failed to beat 'Tootsie' (afterwards named 'Minnow'), which belonged to Mr. Payne, and was altered to fit the class. On the whole, the racing in the new classes was somewhat disappointing, owing to the small number of competitors and of races. See the following table, which also includes the races for the 'Solent Classes' in 1888 and 1892, and shows the great development of the sport during the past five years. The actual races only are recorded, as clubs deserve but little credit for offering prizes hedged in by such conditions that owners will not compete for them. _Races in the Solent Classes_ +----------------------+--------------------------------------------------------+ | 1887 || 1888 || 1892 | +----------------------+------------++----------------++------------------------| Yacht Clubs and |21'2-1/2 || | |2-1/2 || | |2-1/2 | | | Sailing Clubs | |17'1-1/4|| | 5 | | || | 5 | | |1/2| | | | |Tot.|| 10| | |Tot.|| 10| | | 1 | |Tot.| +----------------------+------------++----------------++------------------------| Royal Yacht Squadron | 0| 0| 0|| 0| 0| 0| 0|| 1| 1| 1| 0| 0| 3| Royal London | 1| 0| 1|| 3| 0| 3| 6|| 0| 1| 2| 2| 2| 7| Royal Southern | 1| 1| 2|| 2| 2| 2| 6|| 0| 2| 2| 2| 2| 8| Royal Victoria | 0| 0| 0|| 0| 0| 0| 0|| 1| 3| 9| 7| 7| 27| Royal Albert | 0| 0| 0|| 2| 0| 2| 4|| 0| 6| 6| 6| 6| 24| Royal Southampton | 7| 6| 13|| 4| 2| 8| 14|| 4| 8| 8| 8| 8| 36| Solent Yacht Club | 0| 0| 0|| 1| 0| 1| 2|| 0| 3| 3| 1| 3| 10| Royal Portsmouth | | | || | | | || | | | | | | Corinthian | 1| 0| 1|| 7| 1| 7| 15|| 0| 4| 9| 7| 9| 29| Castle Yacht Club | (started) || 5| 0| 8| 13|| 1| 12| 12| 9| 7| 41| Island Sailing Club | --| --| --|| --| --| --| --|| 0| 0| 9| 9| 9| 27| Minima Sailing Club | --| --| --|| --| --| --| --|| 0| 0| 2| 12| 9| 23| Bembridge Sailing Club| --| --| --|| --| --| --| --|| 0| 0| 2| 1| 13| 16| +----------------------+------------++----------------++------------------------+ Totals | 10| 7| 17|| 26| 6| 34| 66|| 7| 40| 65| 64| 75| 251| +----------------------+--------------------------------------------------------+ CLASS RACING, 1888. Early in 1888, delegates from several of the Solent clubs met at the house of the Royal Southampton, to settle the difficult question of the classes of small racing yachts to be encouraged on the Solent, it having become clear that racing under a rating of length alone was played out. The Y.R.A. recommended that 10-, 5-, and 2-1/2-rating, by the new formula L. × S.A. ÷ 6,000, should be encouraged as the small classes, but the Scotch and Irish clubs favoured 6- and 3-raters as better suiting their 3-tonners, which had been produced under the 1730 rule, and were about 6-rating. After a lively correspondence in the 'Field,' in which the Editor steered a middle course between the Southern buoys and the Northern shallows, the conference at Southampton decided to adopt the classes recommended by the Y.R.A., and there has been no cause to regret this decision. 10-, 5-, and 2-1/2-raters consequently became known as the 'Solent Classes,' and the limits on S.A. in mainsail and on L.O.A. were quashed, no objection being raised by vested interests. _The 10-Raters, 1888._ The 10 class racing this year mainly consisted of a duel between Mr. Clarke's new 10, the 'Dis,' and Mr. Arabin's 6-1/2-rater, the 'Lollypop,' built for cruising, but a very fast and capable boat (see table opposite). The lengthers 'Verena' and 'Frolic,' each about 7-rating, tried their luck on a few occasions, but they were soon proved to be outclassed under the rating rule. 'Little Nell,' 'Raven,' 'Ina,' and 'Jenny Wren' also competed. 'Dis' finished the season with the excellent figure of merit 52.2, and 'Lollypop' with 34.6. This figure of merit is found by the formula proposed by Colonel F. J. Smith, R.E., in 1890, viz.: M = 100P ÷ (N + [V¯]N + 2) where M is the figure of merit N is the number of starts P is the number of first prizes, all referring to class races only. Colonel Smith subsequently elaborated the formula by allowing points for sails over, and for second prizes when three boats started; but it is practically impossible to get such records with accuracy, and the resulting order of merit is the same whichever figure of merit be adopted. Hence it is best to employ the simplest formula in which first prizes alone count, as in the one just given, which will be adopted in these pages. Further details of the 10-rater racing will be found in a tabulated form on p. 488 of 'Land and Water,' Oct. 20, 1888. _The 5-Raters, 1888._ Mr. L. M. Ames attempted to start the 5-rating class by building 'Fair Geraldine' (see table of dimensions), but the class received but little encouragement from the clubs this year, and there were very few purely class races. The 'Flutterby,' 4-rater, designed by her owner, Mr. Fred. Hughes, Mr. Farmer's 'Chittywee,' and Mr. Newton-Robinson's 'Rose' were the only competitors available. _The 2-1/2-Raters, 1888._ Mr. Waller's 'Lady Nan,' Mr. Manning's 'Ada,' and the late Mr. Sidney Watson's 'Chipmunk' were the new boats in this class, the first named being a great success at a moderate cost, the usual oak timbers, bent ash frames, and pine planking being used in her construction. Her lines are given in Mr. Dixon Kemp's 'Yacht Architecture,' second edition. 'Madcap,' her chief opponent, had been slightly lengthened during the winter, and a counter added; thus improved, she was able to turn the tables on 'Thalassa' (see following table). _Racing Records, 1888._ +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Prizes | Figure | | 1888 | Starts |-------+-------+-------| of | | | | First | Other | Total | merit | |-------------------------+--------+-------+-------+-------+--------| | _10-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Dis | 29 | 19 | 6 | 25 | 52 | |Lollypop | 17 | 8 | 4 | 12 | 34 | | | | | | | | |_2-1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Lady Nan | 31 | 19 | 9 | 28 | 49 | |Madcap | 24 | 8 | 10 | 18 | 26 | |Tottie | 6 | 2 | 0 | 2 | 19 | |Thalassa | 34 | 3 | 11 | 14 | 7 | |Fairy | 21 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 7 | |Minnow | 10 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 6 | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ The feature this year was the birth of the heavy lead fin-keel. Mr. Payne tried it in 'Lady Nan,' and Captain Hughes had a similar keel placed on 'Fairy,' thereby improving both her speed and power. Another excitement was caused by Mr. Simpson very gamely sailing his 'Tottie' (4.5 feet beam) round from the Thames, so as to try the Solent 2-1/2-raters. 'Tottie' was designed by Mr. G. L. Watson for a special class, 21 feet L.W.L. and 500 S.A. She won easily in this class on the Thames, but only scored on the Solent in light weather, and soon found it expedient to return to her muddy headquarters. 'Minnow' also won a few prizes in light weather by means of her time allowance; but 'Chipmunk' 12 starts, 'Ada' 4, 'Titu' 2, and 'Cormorant' 1 start, failed to score for their figure of merit. The season's racing was good, and the class evidently established itself in public favour. The Castle Club, then at Hamble, gave a number of races for the class, and several members of the club agreed to build 2-1/2-raters for the coming season. For the results see the record table for 1888 (p. 231). CLASS RACING, 1889 _The 10-Raters, 1889._ The owner of 'Lollypop' being encouraged by her performances in 1888, commissioned Mr. Arthur Payne to design a racing 10-rater; whence it came about that the swift and handsome 'Decima' was launched from the Belvidere yard in the following spring. She was a few inches shorter than 'Dis,' but in every other respect a more powerful boat--more beam, draught, and displacement, also a larger mainsail. The 'Drina' was built at Cowes about the same time, but she was designed simply as a 32-ft. L.W.L. day boat, and her owner, Prince Batthyany Strattmann, only decided to race her when she was already in frame. The lead keel was then dropped 1.8 foot and the sail increased 400, to 1,800 square feet. Unfortunately for 'Drina' it was a windy summer. Mr. Ratsey tuned up his fine square-sterned yacht 'Dolly Varden' with a lovely suit of sails. Captain Montagu lengthened 'Lil' and converted her into the 9-rater 'Nety'; and Mr. Clarke brought out 'Dis' from her padlocked abode and did all that he could to make her win--but in this he was disappointed, though when beaten he stuck to the fight as only a true sportsman can. Towards the end of the season the attention of Clydesiders was drawn to 'Decima's' long string of successes, and the sporting owners of the old 'Doris' and the new 'Yvonne' sailed them round to do battle in the Solent lists. _Racing Records, 1889._ +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Prizes | Figure | | 1889 | Starts |-------+-------+-------| of | | | | First | Other | Total | merit | |-------------------------+--------+-------+-------+-------+--------| | _10-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Decima | 39 | 28 | 6 | 34 | 59 | |Yvonne | 32 | 13 | 12 | 25 | 33 | |Doris | 38 | 12 | 7 | 19 | 26 | |Dis | 28 | 3 | 9 | 12 | 8 | | | | | | | | | _5-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Lollypop | 10 | 5 | 3 | 8 | 33 | |Thief | 3 | 2 | 0 | 2 | 29 | |Thalassa | 12 | 5 | 3 | 8 | 28 | |Fair Geraldine | 3 | 1 | 0 | 1 | 15 | |Cock-a-Whoop | 5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 10 | |Blue Bell | 9 | 1 | 3 | 4 | 7 | | | | | | | | |_2-1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Humming Bird | 38 | 25 | 4 | 29 | 54 | |Queen Mab | 12 | 5 | 2 | 7 | 28 | |Cosette | 19 | 4 | 6 | 10 | 15 | |G.G. | 13 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 11 | |Nadador | 21 | 2 | 8 | 10 | 7 | |Madcap | 26 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 6 | |Thalassa | 13 | 1 | 3 | 4 | 6 | |Thief | 16 | 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ 'Yvonne,' designed by the famous son of Fife, was narrower and shorter than 'Decima,' and had 45 square feet more sail, which placed her in the van in light weather. But 'Decima' beat her five times in eight starts, and beat 'Doris' eleven times in fourteen starts. The results for the season are given in the record table. It was a red-letter year for the 10's on the Solent, nothing like it having occurred either before or since. _The 5-Raters, 1889._ Energy in one class is often accompanied by stagnation in another, and the 5's were certainly slow enough during 1889 to satisfy the most exacting Puritan. [Illustration: 'Cock-a-Whoop,' 2-1/2-rater. Designed by A. E. Payne, M.I.N.A., 1889.] The clubs did their duty, as fifteen races were given to the class on the Solent. 'Lollypop,' cut down to a 5, was the most successful boat. Next came 'Thief' (of which boat more anon); then 'Thalassa,' 'Fair Geraldine,' 'Cock-a-Whoop,' 'Blue Bell,' 'Gleam,' 'Ada,' 'Dorothy,' and 'Tar Baby' made up the motley crowd--the four last-named scoring a 'duck' for their figure of merit. 'Gleam,' however, caused a little excitement by capsizing in one race, pitching her owner, Mr. Clayton, with several of his friends, into the sweet waters of Southampton, from which they were fortunately rescued with much promptitude by the blue gig carried on board her Majesty's letter-bag boat, which was steaming past at the time of the accident. The class was nothing more nor less than a harbour of refuge for outclassed boats; and, as the yachts differed in their ratings, the race officers were ever busy calculating their time allowances, and growling inwardly at 'those confounded decimals.' 'Fair Geraldine' was the only boat built for the class, but, curiously enough, when she tried conclusions at the end of the season she found herself 'between the devil and the deep sea,' the 2-1/2-rater 'Cock-a-Whoop,' with extra sail to qualify for the class, beating her in light weather on September 14, and the cruiser 'Lollypop' beating her in a breeze on the 21st. The broad results of the racing can be seen in the table of records for 1889. _The 2-1/2-Raters, 1889._ Now began small yacht-racing in earnest, and a determined attempt was made to lower Mr. Payne's colours. Mrs. Schenley, the Earl of Dunraven, and Mr. T. B. C. West all joined the class, all cared but little what it cost to win, all sailed their boats well, all engaged good crews, and all went to Mr. G. L. Watson for the designs. He gave them enlarged 'Totties' (one with a C.B.), excellent boats in their way, but distinctly inferior to the type developing on the Solent under the motto, 'Payne and Pleasure.' Such a boat was 'Humming Bird,' often called the 'Hummer,' nearly 3 feet longer than 'Lady Nan,' and about 17 inches longer on W.L. than her Watsonite competitors, but with little O.H. at either end. The fin-keel became more pronounced, the M.S. and scantling were further reduced, and the lug sloop rig was adopted--a combination which made her wonderfully fast on all points of sailing in any but light winds. She was sailed faultlessly by her owner, Captain J. W. Hughes, and made the excellent M. of 54 at the end of the season (see table of records). Another boat of the year deserves mention--the 26-ft. C.B. sloop built and designed by Stephens of Southampton. She was purchased by Mr. Garrett of plunging boat fame, and named the 'G.G.' She had 10 feet beam, and did best on courses where she could avoid a tide by sailing over the shallows. 'Thalassa' was raced in the class during June and July, after which she raised her R. and joined the 5's. She had been lengthened 2 feet aft during the winter, and greatly improved thereby, her speed now being equal to 'Madcap' and 'Lady Nan' (see record table for 1889, p. 233). [Illustration: 'Humming Bird,' Payne, 1889.] 'Heathen Chinee,' a yawl of peculiar design, and 'Minnow' and 'Chipmunk' raced on a few occasions, but failed to win any first prizes. SOLENT SAILORESSES. This year was noticeable for the activity of ladies on the Solent. Miss Cox continued to race 'Madcap'; her sister, Mrs. Rudston-Read, purchased 'Lady Nan,' and raced her under the new name 'Nadador'; Mrs. Schenley raced her new 2-1/2 'Thief'; Mrs. Sidney Watson, Miss Harvey (now Mrs. A. Heygate), and the Misses Hughes occasionally steered in the races, and the daughters of 'Thalassa' helped to work their father's boat, and sometimes steered her. Late in the season--in the series of matches, 'ladies up,' between 'Cosette' and 'Queen Mab'--the Earl got two 'daughters of the sea' to help him, and Miss Harvey steered the 'Queen' for Mr. West. It really looked as if ladies were about to take an active part in Solent racing; but next year, although races for ladies were specially provided in the programme of the Castle Club, some owners objected, and this form of sport received a somewhat rude and unexpected check from which it has never quite recovered. Two sailing clubs were started on the Solent in 1889--the Island Sailing Club at West Cowes, and a branch of the Minima Sailing Club at Hamble. The former club arose during the winter of 1888, and Mr. Barrow, its present hon. secretary, states that it was 'the outcome of much boat-sailing talk in Cowes and in the "Field" ... on the superior charms and advantages of open-boat sailing'; but, 'like many season fashions, open boating soon found its level, and the I.S.C. has had an uphill fight to get open boats together for racing.'... 'The influence of small raters seems to have been too much for the open craft, and though the club has offered very good prizes and a 20-guinea challenge cup, ... yet the open-boat racing has been so poorly supported that most probably next year' (1893) 'the racing will be entirely confined to small raters, which have given much sport during the past season' (1892). The first 'Commodore, the late General Baring, taking much interest in the club, bought land adjoining the Customs watch, and built thereon the present small but very convenient club house, with its slipway, &c., where it has since passed a ... busy existence, holding in the season its fortnightly races, which have been well supported by 2-1/2-, 1-, and 1/2-raters.'[8] [Footnote 8: The above was penned at the end of 1892, and applies to that year. In 1893 the programme was enlarged by including races on alternating days for the 5-raters and for handicaps with boats up to 19-rating, not being class racers. A few races were given in 1891 to 2-1/8-raters.--[Greek: theta].] The Minima Sailing Club was established in the same year, 1889: 1st. To encourage the building, improvement, and sailing of small boats, and to promote seamanship and sport amongst amateur boat-sailers. 2nd. To arrange cruises and races both on the coast and inland waters. 3rd. To give to members who may wish to visit a coast, river, or lake which is new to them, facilities for obtaining information as to harbourage, boatmen, housing of boats, carriage of boats, and other local matters. 4th. To form branches or out-stations, and to affiliate local clubs as such, or otherwise. This club has adopted the motto 'Per Mare per Terram,' very appropriate for an institution which encourages the transport of boats by rail. Commodore Hallowes is an Admiral, and settles disputes admirably. To him and to Mr. Herbert Ridsdale, the hon. secretary for the Solent, the success of the club in these waters is principally due. Unfortunately for the Solent, Mr. Ridsdale departed for fresh seas and outlets new in 1892. A little club-house was erected in 1891 on the Hamble river-bank, opposite Warsash village, and the races now start and finish at this point, everything being done by miniature flags, &c., in strict accord with the Y.R.A. rules--altogether a nice little club, well managed, and possessing an excellent general programme which deserves to succeed. The Castle Club also jumped ahead with a fair breeze in 1889, and a convenient house was built close to Calshot Castle, permission having been obtained from the Admiralty and War Office after much negotiation. Ladies are encouraged to join the club. A room is set apart for them, and the near relatives of members can join on specially easy terms. This, a somewhat novel experiment, has succeeded admirably, and many ladies now attend the races and take a lively interest in the club. Tea at the club-house has become an afternoon function on race-days. Intoxicating liquors are not sold, but the housekeeper can generally put a square meal before a hungry mariner. The race officers have a tower-room to themselves. The starting gun--a heavy double-barrelled 4-bore--gives as excellent a report in its way as Mr. Parsons, the courteous correspondent for the 'Field'--sharp, clear, distinct, and never a hang fire or a doubtful meaning. * * * * * We now pass to another year, but adhere to our present subject, because in 1890 the Bembridge Sailing Club first attracted notice by its energy under the diligent direction of its hon. secretary, Mr. Blair Onslow Cochrane, to whom we are indebted for the following characteristic account, which begins by claiming that-- ... The Bembridge Sailing Club was started in 1886 under the name of the Isle of Wight Corinthian Sailing Club, changed in 1890 to the present name in order to avoid confusion with the Isle of Wight Corinthian Yacht Club (Ryde) since defunct.... Many men of moderate means, but fond of boat-racing, thought a club whose leading features were:-- 1st. Racing in boats of uniform pattern. 2nd. Racing in boats of small Y.R.A. rating (2 and under) ... would be a success, and in order to keep down expense and to suit the harbour, draught was limited to 3 feet. The first feature, which consisted of club boats, sloop-rigged, with rolling jibs and mainsails so as to reef easily, has been very popular; races in this class, both single-handed and otherwise, taking place almost daily. The subscription to these boats being only 1_l._, a member is enabled to have a summer's racing and cruising for this small sum, and can, if he be a fair hand in a boat, win good prizes. The boats are as nearly as possible equal, and, lots being drawn for them before racing, the best man wins as a rule. These boats are moored just under the club-house, and amusing incidents frequently occur. A well-known man from the Emerald Isle, who is a keen and successful yacht-sailer, was the cause of a hearty laugh. Getting into a club boat, he set the mainsail, and, after letting go the moorings, he jumped aft to the helm, but unfortunately for him the hook of the mooring chain caught in the bobstay and held the boat fast. Advice was freely showered upon him from the club-house. 'Haul your port jib sheet aft.' 'Push the boom over.' 'Roll up the jib.' 'Steady your helm.' 'Get your hair cut,' &c., &c., amid roars of laughter; but it was a good ten minutes before he found out what was wrong, the boat sheering wildly all the time! Races are also held in which each helmsman has to set sail, pick up moorings, &c. &c. The classes under Y.R.A., 1-raters and 1/2-raters, also afford great sport, but resulted in the development of a very expensive type of boat, the natural consequence of the ascendency of the 'almighty dollar'; but these boats are exceedingly capable and safe. In 1891 the racing was only stopped one day on account of weather, and that summer was peculiarly stormy. These small yachts afford an admirable school ... which will do more for the real sport of yacht-racing than anything else. A man who can sail a 1- or a 1/2-rater will never be out of place in a larger ship, or become a mere passenger, for he won't race a small boat unless he loves the sport. At Bembridge the club has a slipway and cradle, and members can haul up their boats at any time, either for repairs or drying, at no cost. This is a great boon to a small boat-owner. There are generally about forty races each season, of from 5 to 10 knot course. The starting is by semaphore, and recalls are effected by blowing a fog-horn to attract attention and then exposing the boat's racing flag painted on zinc ... thus doing away with cards and enabling post entries. The harbour, capable of much improvement, is in the hands of a ... company.... There are two good boat-builders, a good sail-maker, and a ship-chandler. Tides run very slack, and the railway station, telegraph office, steamboat pier, and first-class hotel are all within fifty yards. Classes for 2-1/2-raters and deep draught 1-raters have now (1892) been started, and will race outside.... Further details concerning this excellent and flourishing Club will be found in table on p. 286. CLASS RACING, 1890 may be described in the words fives and two-point fives. 'Dis' and 'Decima' were sold and went away, the 10-R. class collapsed, and the ones and halves were only talked about, not built. The 5-rating class was thoroughly started this year, and a boat which devoured the cakes for two seasons was launched in the 2-1/2-rating class. _Racing Records, 1890._ +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Prizes | Figure | | 1890 | Starts |-------+-------+-------| of | | | | First | Other | Total | merit | |-------------------------+--------+-------+-------+-------+--------| | _5-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Glycera | 43 | 19 | 12 | 31 | 37 | |Alwida | 40 | 14 | 16 | 30 | 29 | |Archee | 14 | 4 | 5 | 9 | 20 | |Valentine | 26 | 5 | 4 | 9 | 15 | |Quinque | 39 | 2 | 10 | 12 | 4 | |Fair Geraldine | 13 | 0 | 1 | 1 | 0 | | | | | | | | |_2-1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |The Babe | 27 | 15 | 6 | 21 | 44 | |Humming Bird | 33 | 12 | 3 | 15 | 29 | |Dolphin | 26 | 7 | 6 | 13 | 21 | |Cock-a-Whoop | 33 | 4 | 18 | 22 | 10 | |Thalassa | 10 | 1 | 0 | 1 | 6 | |Mliss | 34 | 2 | 10 | 12 | 5 | |Troublesome | 22 | 1 | 5 | 6 | 3 | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ Lord Dunraven became Commodore of the Castle Club in the spring. He was already an avowed champion for and a generous supporter of small yacht racing, and during the winter--to be precise, on November 23, 1889--he wrote an epoch-marking letter to the 'Field' which produced good fruit. In it he said:-- May I add a word about the small classes on the Solent? Your remarks in your issue of the 9th inst. were, I think, rather unfair upon the 5's. Roughly speaking, I suppose the cost of a 20 is about three-fifths more than the cost of a 10; a 10 costs nearly two-thirds more than a 5, and a 5 would come to about double the expense of a 2-1/2. The proportional initial expense diminishes according to size; but the converse is the case in respect of working expenses. The crew of a 2-1/2 can sail a 5, but double the crew of a 5 will be found in a 10, and a 20 will require another couple of hands and a pilot in addition to the crew of a 10. The 5's and 20's appear to be the cheapest classes. Nothing can be more delightful than a 2-1/2. It is the perfection of racing of its kind; but the absence of any accommodation below is a serious drawback under certain circumstances, especially to persons living at a distance. In a 5 you can change clothes, boil a kettle, and, on a pinch, sleep. _The 5-Raters, 1890._ Lord Dunraven's boat 'Alwida' and Mr. P. Perceval's boat 'Glycera' were designed by Payne and built at Southampton; Col. Bucknill's 'Quinque' was designed by her owner and built at Hamble in a very substantial manner by Luke & Co. [Illustration: 'Quinque,' 5-rater. (Lt.-Col. Bucknill, R.E.).] Two new boats were designed by Mr. G. L. Watson--the 'Valentine' for Mrs. Schenley, and the 'Archee' for Mr. McNish. The elements of all these boats will be found in the table for 5-raters, and detailed drawings of 'Valentine' are given in the sixth edition of Dixon Kemp's 'Yacht Architecture.' 'Archee,' the more capable of the two Watsonites, was built at Wivenhoe. She was beaten on the Solent when she first tried conclusions, but her sail-plan was improved and 5 cwt. of lead transferred from inside to out, after which she made some good matches with 'Glycera' and 'Alwida.' She scored four firsts for fourteen starts in the Solent, and three more firsts in four ex-Solent races. Her speed probably astonished her designer as much as other people, and this surprise, combined with the success of the 2-1/2-rater C.B. boats on the Clyde in 1891, may account for the best Watsonite in the large classes 1892 belonging to this reviled type. (See Mr. Watson's evidence before the Y.R.A. Committee, 1886.) But we live to learn. Mr. McNish deserves some credit in this matter, as he thoroughly believed in the centreboard when others (including the designer he employed) were sceptical. At the end of the season Mr. Payne's boats again headed the list, as will be seen in the table of records (p. 241). They were built lighter, they drew more water, and they were sailed better than the other boats in the class; 5/8-inch mahogany planking was employed, but they leaked freely at the garboards, and their floors had to be strengthened. 'Fair Geraldine' only scored one third prize in thirteen starts. _The 2-1/2-Raters, 1890._ This may be termed 'Babe's' year, as a boat of that name built for Mr. W. A. Beauclerk from a design by Mr. Payne won fifteen firsts in twenty-seven starts on the Solent. She was not the longest boat in the class, but had a foot more than 'Hummer.' She had fairly good depth and displacement, and in some respects was like her principal rival--especially in the faultless manner in which she was sailed and prepared for every race. Her owner a good helmsman and keen sportsman, her skipper first-rate in every way, she came out of the builder's yard as smooth as a bottle, and after two years' racing everything about her was in the same high-class racing condition. The 'Dolphin,' designed by Mr. Clayton, proved to be fast and capable. In addition, she had the germs of a new type in her--viz. the overhanging end to evade the measurement of length, which has since developed such startling proportions. Drawings of this boat are given in 'Yacht Architecture.' It is difficult to point to any defect in her lines or general design. 'Camilla' and 'Janetta,' 26-1/2 feet, and 'Mliss,' 25 feet, were designed by Mr. Payne, 'Mliss' only doing well. She belonged to Miss Cox, whose sister, Mrs. Rudston-Read, had the 'Troublesome' built at Fay's, from a design by Mr. Soper--a somewhat ugly boat with a counter and flare bow. She was fast in light weather, and won the Challenge Plate given by Mr. George Schenley to the Castle Yacht Club. [Illustration: 'The Babe,' 2-1/2-rater. Designed by A. E. Payne, 1890.] 'Cock-a-Whoop,' built in 1889 for Captain Hughes's two sons, from a design by Mr. Payne, was raced, as already stated, in the 5-rater class at first, but in 1890 she was rearranged to fit the 2.5 class, in which she raced. [Illustration: 'SAVOURNA' _5-rater. (H. L. Mulholland, Esq.) Designed by A. E. Payne, 1891_.] Two of the narrow boats, 'Cosette' and 'Thief,' did not fit out for the Solent racing, and the third, 'Queen Mab,' did not succeed in winning a single first prize in six starts. The same remark applies to 'Camilla' with nineteen starts, to 'Janetta' with ten starts, and to 'G.G.' with five starts. Four boats, two being new boats by Payne, and one a 'last year's boat' by Watson, failed to score a single point for their figure of merit! These boats are consequently omitted in the table of records, but full particulars of the racing can be found in a table published October 20, in 'Land and Water.' We now pass to 1891, which will be remembered as the 1/2-raters' year. CLASS RACING, 1891 The 10-raters 'Dis' and 'Decima' raced in a few matches on the Solent; but it was tame work, the old story being constantly retold. In the end, however, 'Decima' was found to be over her rating and had to disgorge her prizes. Hence the final results are only misleading, and are not entered in the record table on p. 246. _The 5-Raters, 1891._ 'Valentine' was replaced by the 'Windfall,' and 'Glycera,' by the 'Savourna,' the two new boats being designed by Mr. Payne and built by the new firm of Summers & Payne, which like a phoenix had risen from the ashes of a disastrous fire at the Belvidere yards of A. R. Payne & Sons and Black & Co. (late Hatcher & Co.). Mr. Summers, having command of capital, bought up both these firms, took Mr. Arthur Payne into partnership, erected labour-saving machinery, rebuilt the premises in a very substantial manner, and brought a good business capacity to bear upon the whole concern. In the two new 5-raters the fin-keel, the lug, and the general arrangements on the 'Babe' and 'Hummer' were carried into the larger class with complete success. Mr. Langrishe joined the class with a new boat, the 'Iernia,' built at Gosport and designed by the son of Fife. She differed from Mr. Payne's boats in possessing considerable overhang, in a flare bow, and a long counter. Her hull was somewhat similar to 'Valentine,' and she was rigged as a lug sloop like 'Savourna.' 'Windfall,' however, sported the divided skirt in front of the mast. _Racing Records, 1891._ +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Prizes | Figure | | 1891 | Starts |-------+-------+-------| of | | | | First | Other | Total | merit | |-------------------------+--------+-------+-------+-------+--------| | _5-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Windfall | 40 | 22 | 12 | 34 | 45 | |Savourna | 40 | 14 | 20 | 34 | 29 | |Alwida | 29 | 6 | 8 | 14 | 16 | |Iernia | 29 | 3 | 4 | 7 | 8 | | | | | | | | |_2-1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |The Babe | 45 | 36 | 3 | 39 | 67 | |Avadavat | 40 | 12 | 17 | 29 | 25 | |Fiera | 33 | 7 | 9 | 17 | 17 | |Janetta | 36 | 1 | 11 | 12 | 2 | | | | | | | | | _1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Spruce | 12 | 6 | 2 | 8 | 35 | |Tiny | 33 | 14 | 7 | 21 | 34 | |Narua | 25 | 9 | 6 | 15 | 28 | |Bairn | 29 | 9 | 11 | 20 | 25 | |Dee Dee | 38 | 8 | 19 | 27 | 17 | |Jeanie | 50 | 5 | 17 | 22 | 8 | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ 'Katherine,' a new 5, built, designed, and sailed by Mr. Black (who had retired from business), was a capable boat of 31 L.W.L., with a straight stem and a pretty counter; but she failed to score. 'Quinque' had been altered during the winter, but was not improved. 'Alwida' was not changed until in August the lug was adopted, when the same was done for 'Quinque.' Their sailing was improved, but not enough to win. [Illustration: THE 'BABE' _2-1/2-rater. Designed by A. E. Payne, 1890._] The racing proved the superiority of Mr. Payne's designs, which now and for the third year headed this class. See table of records, which shows that 'Windfall' and 'Savourna' competed in no less than forty class matches. This was due to the senior yacht clubs like the Squadron, Royal London, Royal Victoria, and Royal Albert giving extra match days for the Solent classes. Coincident with this fashion of giving numerous races there arose in some quarters a desire to do it economically, one club being specially noticeable. For instance, at its annual regatta, 1891, the second prize was not awarded to Lord Dunraven, as only three boats started, although the prize was given to the club by another owner and several rather heavy entrance fees had been collected. In fact, the club cleared 7_l._ 15_s._ by the race. This, and other cases of the kind, may cheer those who tremble at the cost of giving races, and may even point a way whereby less wealthy clubs may 'turn an honest penny.' _The 2-1/2-Raters, 1891._ 'Humming Bird,' 'Mliss,' 'Dolphin,' and 'Camilla' did not race, 'Hummer' eventually going to Ireland and 'Camilla' to the East coast, 'Mliss' and 'Dolphin' to Plymouth. The new boat 'Fiera' was designed for Miss Cox by Mr. Payne, who also turned out the 'Avadavat,' 28 feet L.W.L., for Mr. Wilson Hoare. Mr. E. N. Harvey had the 'Undine' built at Cowes from a design by Mr. Clayton, and Sir G. Pearce the 'Squirrel,' designed by Stone. 'Janetta' was raced again. Not one of them could touch the 'Babe,' which seemed to go faster than ever now that her principal antagonist, the 'Hummer,' was out of the way. The record for the season will be found in the table, and 'Babe's' figure of merit--67--obtained by thirty-six first prizes in forty-five starts, was a wonderful performance. _The 1/2-Raters, 1891._ Just as the 2-1/2-raters had been the outcome of an agreement among some members of the Castle Club to build and start the class in 1888, so the 1/2-rating class in 1891 was produced by a similar agreement among certain enthusiastic boat-sailers of the Bembridge Sailing Club. Mr. Payne was consulted, and quite a fleet of these little ships was built in the Belvidere yards during the winter of 1890-91--viz. 'Narua,' 'Eileen,' 'Otokesan,' 'Dee Dee,' 'Idono,' 'Ladybird,' 'Kittiwake.' These were all capital little boats--miniature yachts, in fact--with rather heavy lead keels of the fin type, and with good displacement--some 11 or 12 cwt.--about three-quarters of it being ballast. Two more of similar type--viz. 'Tiny' and 'Dancing Girl'--were built at Hamble from designs by Mr. Herbert Ridsdale, and the 'Coquette' was built at Gosport from a design by Mr. C. Nicholson. A boat designed by Fife, the 'Jeanie,' had a counter 4.6 feet long. Their L.W.L. usually varied from 15-1/2 to 17 feet. The 'Mosquito,' designed by Mr. Soper, was built of cedar; the others were planked with mahogany, and all were good specimens of the modern art of boat-building. Most of the sail-plans consisted of a large lug and a spitfire jib secured to a roller which could be revolved on the forestay as an axle by means of cords led aft to the well of the boat. Thus the sail could be reefed by rolling it up like a blind. This was the invention of Captain Du Bowlay. It is very convenient, especially for single-handed sailing. By a further contrivance, the roller can be carried on the end of an iron or steel arm pivoted in a goose-neck secured to the front of the mast and worked by guys from the well; in which event the forestay is rigged in front of the roller. Thus the jib can be reefed or unreefed, or set at an angle, and converted into a spinnaker in a few seconds. (See illustration on opposite page). These little craft are wonderful sea-boats, and created quite a furore of enthusiastic excitement throughout the season, several ladies taking an active interest in the sport, and some of them steering their own boats in the roughest weather. But they were not destined to have all the fun to themselves. In the middle of the season a spruce young gentleman arrived from the metropolitan waters with a contrivance termed a 'canoe yawl'--a shallow, light, buoyant thing having little or no ballast except the crew, who sat in a canvas-bag arrangement to be emptied as occasion required on rough days. The craft was as easily upset as righted; but the crew combined the acrobat with the water-rat, and showed great skill in keeping the little ship right side up. [Illustration: 'Mosquito,' with roll foresail. Designed by Soper, 1892.] The 'Torpedo,' another device of the kind, and owned by Mr. Stewart, came from Oxford. The owners of the Solent half-raters were not too well pleased to see some of the prizes going into the lockers of these canoe yawls, and a fine string of letters appeared in the 'Field'; but the excitement moderated when it was found that the raters usually scored honours. One other type was tried--the C.B. dinghy. 'Bairn,' however, was the only example in this class. Many of the clubs limited the crew of half-raters to two hands. This did not suit the 'Bairn' type, which requires three or four hands to windward as 'ballast' in the usual Solent weather. It is impossible to give a summary of the racing in this class, because it is very imperfectly reported in the sporting press, and the club secretaries do not invariably retain correct records even of the starters and winners. 'Kittiwake' was generally considered the best boat of the year; but several others ran her close. The only boats recorded in the 'Yacht-racing Calendar' are 'Tiny,' 'Narua,' 'Bairn,' and 'Jeanie,' and for these the figures are given in our table of records. 'Spruce's' record includes her Solent races only. She won numerous prizes in other waters. CLASS RACING, 1892 began, so to speak, with a conference of club delegates under the hospitable roof of the Royal Southampton Yacht Club, on the last Saturday in February. An amicable meeting agreed to encourage as many open races as possible by withdrawing the restriction that owners and helmsmen should be members of the clubs.[9] It was also decided that the classes 'not exceeding 1/2-rating,' and 'exceeding 1/2-rating but not exceeding 1-rating,' should be added to 'the Solent classes,' and be supported by the yacht and sailing clubs on the Solent. Dates for match days were agreed to, and the meeting separated. [Footnote 9: The Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club, however, still continues to give races only to those owners who are members of the club; and the Royal Southampton adheres to the condition that the yachts in the small classes shall be steered by members of the club.] The result was satisfactory, as better sport in the small classes was seen on the Solent in 1892 than in any previous year. _Racing Records, 1892._ +-------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Prizes | | | 1892 |Starts|-----------------|Figure of| | | |First|Other|Total| merit | |--------------------+------+-----+-----+-----+---------| |_5-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Dacia | 31 | 23 | 4 | 27 | 59 | | Cyane | 12 | 6 | 4 | 10 | 34 | | Windfall | 9 | 4 | 4 | 8 | 29 | | | | | | | | |_2-1/2-Rating Class_| | | | | | | | | | | | | | Gareth | 9 | 5 | 1 | 6 | 36 | | Faugh-a-Ballagh | 49 | 15 | 15 | 30 | 26 | | Polynia | 25 | 7 | 5 | 12 | 22 | | Papoose | 41 | 10 | 15 | 25 | 20 | | Hoopoo | 44 | 9 | 17 | 26 | 17 | | Cockatoo | 40 | 7 | 8 | 15 | 14 | | Molly | 41 | 5 | 14 | 19 | 10 | | Stork | 36 | 4 | 5 | 9 | 9 | | Bud | 33 | 2 | 8 | 10 | 5 | | | | | | | | |_1-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Doushka | 23 | 13 | 3 | 16 | 44 | | Nansheen | 32 | 15 | 8 | 23 | 38 | | Pup | 23 | 7 | 8 | 15 | 23 | | Rogue | 45 | 11 | 11 | 22 | 20 | | Mahatma | ? | 12 | 18 | 30 | ? | | Barbet | ? | 1 | 12 | 13 | ? | | | | | | | | |_1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | No complete records| | | | | | +-------------------------------------------------------+ _The 10-Raters, 1892._ An attempt to revive the 10-R. class was made by Mr. J. Gretton, jun., who built the 'Doreen' from a design by Mr. W. Fife, jun. She forms a startling exponent of the modern racer. Her mainsail, a lug, contains 1,061 square feet of canvas by Y.R.A. measurement, her total S.A. being 1,572, her L.W.L. 38 feet, and her L.O.A. 56.5 feet (see table for 10-raters). A fine, seaworthy craft, fast in a breeze, but not so good in light winds owing to the absence of a sky-scraper. She has the divided skirt forward, but the forestay is taken through the deck some distance inside the stem-head, this having an O.H. of 8.2 feet. This arrangement was used for a similar reason on the cutter yacht 'Margaret,' 265 tons, illustrated in the 'Field,' 1853. [Illustration: 'Doreen,' 20 (J. Gretton, Jun., Esq.). Designed by Fife, 1892.] The present owner of 'Dis,' Mr. Sparks, came forward very pluckily to battle for some of the class prizes on the Solent and the South Coast, and scored on a few occasions in light weather; in a heeling breeze, however, 'Doreen' romped away from him. [Illustration: 'DACIA' _5-rater (Earl of Dudley). Designed by C. Nicholson, jun., 1892._] Although the 10's form one of the 'Solent classes,' they do not flourish. If men built to the class they would get plenty of racing, as in 1889, but Lord Dunraven's letter, already quoted on p. 241, gives ample reasons for the 5- and the 20-raters being preferred. _The 5-Raters, 1892._ This may be termed 'Dacia's' year, when a young and comparatively unknown designer succeeded in lowering the colours of Mr. Payne where others had so signally failed. [Illustration: Lord Dunraven's 'Cyane,' 1892.] 'Dacia' was built at Gosport for Mr. R. H. Langrishe from a design by Mr. C. Nicholson (jun.). For her dimensions, &c., see table for 5-raters (p. 274). She carries her sail well, but is probably built too light. In the middle of the racing season she had to lay up for a time and have a new stem fitted, presumably because the bow was straining. She carries a _deep_ fin-keel, which draws about 8.5 feet. It is coppered. Her O.H. both fore and aft is extreme, and her sailing length is thereby considerably increased when sailing even at moderate speeds. But her success must also be due to a well-considered design as a whole, because her strongest point is clawing to windward, which she does in a marvellous way, blow high blow low, and her great length cannot assist her much on this point of sailing. She cost no more than other boats of the same rating, but when the Earl of Dudley took a fancy to her, Mr. Langrishe sold her early in the season for 'four figures,' it is said; and she was worth it, for it is better to have one successful than two unsuccessful racers. Early in September she raced a rubber of matches against the Clyde crack 'Natica,' Tor Bay being selected as the 'neutral water.' The stakes were heavy, and she won two out of the three races, being steered to victory by her designer.[10] During the season Lord Dudley generally steered her himself, but her designer steered at Tor Bay. [Footnote 10: She subsequently lost the match on a protest, which was referred for settlement to the Council Y.R.A.] [Illustration: 'Windfall,' 5-rater. Designed by A. E. Payne, 1891.] The 'Cyane,' about the same L.W.L. as the 'Dacia,' was built from a design by Mr. Payne for the Earl of Dunraven, who, as commodore of the Castle Club, and one of the first supporters of 5-raters, takes a great interest in the class. 'Cyane' started well before 'Dacia' and 'Windfall' were launched, but afterwards only succeeded in beating 'Dacia' once. She was laid up in the middle of the season. 'Squall,' a sister 5, built for Mr. A. F. S. Crawford, was not so fast, and failed to win pride of place in any race on the Solent. 'Windfall,' with her new owner, Mr. Gubbins, at the helm, did better against 'Dacia' than any other yacht on the Solent, but she left for the Emerald Isle early in the season. 'Savourna' was also raced by her owner, the Hon. H. L. Mulholland, M.P., before going to Ireland, but she did not succeed so well as when Mr. Perceval had her, or it may be that 'Windfall' went better than in 1891. 'Quinque' had been lengthened during the winter, and was greatly improved thereby, but she failed to score until in July her keel was lowered, after which she beat 'Dacia' twice in light weather, and won twelve prizes before the end of the season. The full history of 'Quinque' during her four years' racing is most instructive to the student on account of her numerous alterations, each of which afforded more trustworthy information on some special point than it is possible to obtain from the examination of new boats, however successful they may be; but the story is too long for these pages.[11] [Footnote 11: For further information and drawings of 'Quinque,' see the _Yachtsman_ of July 20 and October 5, 1893.] The records of the Solent racing are entered in the table, wherein it will be found that 'Dacia' made the excellent figure of merit 59, in spite of first two prizes lost by minor infractions of the rules, before Lord Dudley raced her. _The 2-1/2-Raters, 1892._ This year was full of surprises in the 2-1/2-rating class, as indeed in all the small classes. These were mainly due to two gentlemen, Mr. Nat Herreshoff of Rhode Island, U.S., and Mr. C. Nicholson (jun.) of Gosport, G.B. The success of their boats was largely owing to their long overhangs, producing a sailing length greatly in excess of the length measured for their rating. [Illustration: 'Faugh-a-Ballagh,' 2-1/2-rater, 1892.] Mr. Herreshoff also took full advantage of the power given by the bulb-keel to give great stability to a boat of very small displacement. He was therefore content to apply long overhangs to boats of moderate L.W.L. as compared with the English boats in the same class. Mr. Nicholson, however, placed his long overhangs on boats of long L.W.L., and used fin-keels. Complete success crowned both these types. Unfortunately the 'Gareth' never met 'Wenonah,' and the crack 2-1/2 of the year is therefore still a matter of doubt. 'Wenonah's' elements, so far as known, are added to this list of boats, in order to facilitate comparison. She never raced on the Solent. She is sloop-rigged, with a very short gaff, and a fore-triangle, about the same as 'Faugh-a-Ballagh.' [Illustration: Old Fashion.] [Illustration: 'Quinque.'] [Illustration: 'Cyane.'] [Illustration: 'Dacia.'] 'Gareth' is 3 feet longer on the L.W.L., but 0.8 foot shorter than 'Wenonah' in L.O.A. She is, therefore, a fairer boat than 'Wenonah,' a greater percentage of her length being taxed for rating. It is an insult to the intelligence of a designer to suppose that any portion of the hull is useless. Consequently we must assume that all the 37.5 feet of L.O.A. in 'Wenonah' is useful, and, as the sailing length was that which the Y.R.A. intended to tax for rating in 1886, the 'Wenonah' cannot be regarded as a 'short boat.' [Illustration: Old Fashion.] [Illustration: 'Lady Nan.'] [Illustration: 'Dolphin.'] [Illustration: 'Molly.'] [Illustration: 'Dacia.'] The ability of a designer is legitimately employed in evading a measurement rule as far as possible, as did Mr. Edward Hammond Bentall in designing 'Jullanar' in 1875, but the experience that is found at the council table of the Y.R.A. should checkmate such evasions of the spirit in which their rules are framed. 'Gareth' is not so excessive in type as 'Molly' and 'Stork' by the same designer, which came out earlier in the season and won a good many prizes before Mr. Payne's boats of the 'Cockatoo' type were launched. When this occurred, 'Molly's' keel was recast and lowered, after which she was less successful in any weather. Mr. Payne built a number of 2-1/2-raters for this year's racing; three of them--the 'Papoose,' 'Polynia,' and 'Cockatoo'--have a canoe-shaped M.S., and fin-keels which taper upwards--not quite bulb-keels, but nearly so. The lead was also shaped like half a dumb-bell in longitudinal elevation. They were beamy boats of small displacement and great stability, and beat the rest of the fleet easily in a heeling breeze until 'Gareth' appeared. In light weather they were generally beaten by 'Hoopoo,' 'Mynah,' 'Faugh-a-Ballagh,' 'Molly,' and 'Stork.' 'Faugh-a-Ballagh' perhaps possessed the highest _average_ speed of any boat in the class, and seemed to go very much like the 'Babe,' which is high praise. At the end of the season her string of flags was the longest, but this is often rather deceptive--especially when better boats are launched late, and when contests are occasionally selected for winning flags rather than the highest class honours. 'Hoopoo' was well raced; but the owner picked his weather, occasionally refusing to start in a strong wind when he thought he 'hadn't a chance.' No doubt this is correct if the 'Yachtsman's' medal be the object sought for; but few men possess the strength of mind to stand out with their boat at the starting line, crew eager for the fray, and everything all-a-taut-oh. [Illustration: Design for 1-rater by J. M. Soper, 1892.] 'Mynah,' another fast boat, was well sailed by her owner, Lieutenant F. Elwes, of the 68th Light Infantry, whenever he could escape from the duties of camp life, inspections, and summer manoeuvres. 'Bud,' designed by Mr. Soper for the Earl of Desart, did nothing so long as she stuck to her heavy C.B. made of gun-metal. When it was discarded, and a triangular lead keel fitted, she went better and led the fleet at the finish on two occasions when the weather suited her. 'Calva,' a new boat by Mr. Payne, also 'Modwen' and 'Walrus' by other designers, were failures as prize-winners on the Solent. There were no less than 66 races for 2-1/2-raters _on the Solent_ in 1892, and the records of the best boats are given in the table, 'Gareth' leading with a figure of merit, 36. _The 1-Raters, 1892._ This class had a half-hearted existence in 1890 and 1891, when Mr. T. Ratsey's 'Pup' (see table) won most of the races, easily defeating the yachts' cutters of about the same rating, and generally succeeding in giving the time allowance to the 1/2-raters in the few mixed races open to her. The club conference, already described, having in 1892 added this class to the 'Solent classes,' a good programme and a full entry resulted. 'Pup' still competed, and went well in light weather. She is one of the 'Bairn' or C.B. dinghy type, with plenty of beam and little ballast, depending upon her crew for much of her stability. A good type, and much less costly than the modern 1-rater, as, for example, the crack 'Doushka,' built by Payne for Mr. Perceval. This boat is probably like 'Cockatoo' in type. She stands up to her canvas well, and claws to windward in a wonderful way. The harder it blows the better she goes, but she fails in light weather. 'Nansheen,' another fast boat designed by the son of Fife for Mr. Burrowes, is a good sample of the 'weighted centreboard' type. She was built in Ireland by Doyle, and is a fine specimen of sound work. The C.B. is supported by a wire rope on a drum, worked by worm and wheel so that it is always supported in any position without keying, and can rise if it strike the ground with force. The 'Rogue' was another good boat, designed by Mr. Ridsdale for Mr. R. Vogan. At first she failed in windward work, but a bulb-keel was put upon her which quite cured the defect, and she then won plenty of prizes, her racing with 'Nansheen' being close and exciting. [Illustration: Design for a centreboard 1-rater by J. M. Soper, 1892.] 'Mahatma,' designed by her owner Mr. Flemmich, also went well. She now belongs to the Ladies Fanny and Blanche Stanhope. The 'Argula,' built at Gosport from a design by Mr. C. Nicholson, was a fast boat, but proved to be over rating. She was similar to the 2-1/2-rater 'Molly' in general arrangement and appearance. 'Barbet' was a good boat designed by Mr. Payne for Mr. Wilson Hoare. All these boats have the fashionable rig, Ratsey's lug, and a small--very small--foresail. Dr. Hughes, of East Cowes, however, re-introduced the split lug in his 1-rater 'Cariad,' and she went well when this severe handicap is allowed for. The 'Kitten,' built by Mr. Sibbick for the Hon. W. Ruthven, won a few second prizes; but 'Oretta' and 'Minuet,' built at Cowes for Mr. Lancaster Owen and his son, were not so successful, and the other boats which occasionally started--viz. 'Query,' 'Anaconda,' 'Dorothy,' and 'Tramp'--failed to score. Nearly twenty 1-raters competed during the season--pretty good for the first year of a class, and indicative that the class is popular. A 1-rater is, or ought to be, a good wholesome boat, costing but little more than a 1/2-rater, either to build or maintain. Most of the clubs limit the crew to three hands--an excellent rule--to prevent the introduction of a racing canoe with the Malays' system of ballasting.[12] [Footnote 12: This (and other limits of crew for the classes of 5-rating and under) has since been embodied in the Y.R.A. rules.] The racing in the 1-rater class is not fully reported in the sporting press, and the records given in our table have been obtained from the owners. _The 1/2-Raters, 1892._ This class suffered from the attention bestowed on the 1-raters. 'Kittiwake' had been sold to H.R.H. Prince Henry of Prussia, and 'Eileen,' 'Jeanie,' 'Bairn,' 'Narua,' 'Spruce,' and 'Torpedo' dropped out of the racing from one cause or another. 'Coquette,' 'Dancing Girl,' 'Tiny,' 'Dee Dee,' 'Mosquito,' and 'Ladybird' continued, however, to race on the Solent, thus forming an 'exhibition of Old Masters' and young mistresses, only one having changed hands during the winter, and Miss Sutton replaced her with the 'Pique,' a new boat by Mr. Payne. The late Mr. Sidney Watson also purchased a new boat from Mr. Payne, and called her the 'Lilliput.' She was the last boat he ever sailed in. He much enjoyed racing her, and not infrequently led the little fleet. His sudden death in the prime of life was a great shock to all his numerous friends on the Solent. English men and women are born lovers of sport, and attached to the tools they employ: the huntsman to his horse and hounds, the shooter to his dogs and guns, the turfman to his thoroughbred, and the sailing man to his yacht. A real devotion may exist for inanimate pieces of wood and metal. Especially is there poetry, and plenty of it, in a boat--that dancing, playful, wilful thing that only obeys the skilful hand. Ask any old crab-catcher. Yet racing seems to blunt the feeling. Many owners part with their boats and crews at the end of every season, and allow themselves no time really to care for any one of them. Rather late in the season a new boat appeared designed by Mr. Herreshoff. She belonged to Miss W. Sutton, and was named very appropriately 'Wee Winn.' She and her owner certainly did win, in even a more decisive manner than 'Wenonah' on the Clyde. There was no mistake about it. The boat showed a clean pair of heels to the rest of the class in every sort of weather. She is a long boat, the true length being concealed in an excessive overhang--15.6 L.W.L., 23.9 L.O.A., M.S. like a canoe, small displacement, bulb-keel 3 cwt., draught under 3 ft. An approximate representation of her lines is given on p. 266, and the illustration on opposite page gives an idea of her appearance when racing. Towards the end of the season Mr. Soper of Fay's designed and built a fast boat, 'The Daisy,' of somewhat similar type; about the same L.O.A., but longer L.W.L., and having more beam, depth, draught, and a heavier bulb-keel than 'Wee Winn.' They only met twice, and 'Daisy' was beaten; but she got away from the rest easily enough, and these two boats are certainly the fastest 1/2-raters on the Solent at the present time.[13] [Footnote 13: The 'Daisy' was exhibited at the Royal Aquarium in 1893, and sold to some gentleman in the Antipodes; so that her keel, instead of her stern, is now pointing at the Solent 1/2-raters.] [Illustration: Miss Sutton's 'Wee Winn,' 1/2 rater. Designed by Herreshoft, 1892.] CLASS RACING, 1893 The racing on the Solent (apart from the large classes) during the season of 1893 will be principally remembered by the advent of the 20-rater class. It was not adopted at the Conference of Clubs held at the Club House of the R.P.C.Y.C, in February as one of the Solent Classes, which remained at 1/2-raters, 1-raters, 2-1/2-raters, 5-raters, and 10-raters; but the 10-rater class being practically defunct on the Solent during this year, the clubs were enabled to offer a capital programme to the 20-raters, for which class the Earl of Dunraven built the 'Deirdre' (L. 46.2, S. 2,590) from a design by Mr. G. L. Watson, the Earl of Dudley built the 'Vigorna' (L. 46.7, S. 2,569) at Gosport from a design by Mr. C. Nicholson (jun.), and Mr. F. C. Hill built the 'Dragon III.' (L. 45.3, S. 2,593) from a design by Mr. Fife (jun.); Mr. E. Jessop also purchased Mr. Hill's 'Dragon II.' (L. 45.7, S. 2,624), and raced her on the Solent for the first half of the season under the new name of 'Molly.' The 'Maladetta' (L.46, S. 2,608), designed by her owner, Mr. J. E. McGildowny, also competed in a few races in August, but without much success. The most extreme boat, Lord Dudley's, proved a complete failure as a racing machine. In type she was similar to the 'Pilgrim,' built in America for the Cup competition. 'Deirdre' was also a highly developed machine, but she was beaten by 'Dragon III.,' the more moderate design. However, both she and 'Dragon III.' generally found no difficulty in defeating 'Molly,' and on several occasions during the season 'Deirdre' was able to win the principal prize, as will be seen in the table on p. 268. [Illustration: 'Wee Winn,' 1/2-rater. Designed by Herreshoff for Miss Sutton, 1892.] [Illustration: 'Daisy.' Designed by J. M. Soper, 1892.] _The 5-Raters, 1893._ 'Red Lancer's' record of 11 first prizes in 13 starts is exceedingly good. The start for the Squadron race on Aug. 3 is not counted against her, as the first prize should have been awarded to her. She always won easily in light weather, and it required half a gale for 'Dacia' to get in front of her. Before 'Red Lancer's' arrival, at the end of July, 'Dacia' scored by far the best of the Solent trio, the other two boats ('Quinque' and 'Fleur-de-Lis') being a good match _inter se_. 'Valentine' was sailed capitally, and made a good fight for a place in light weather; but she never won first honours, and was as clearly outclassed as she was in 1890 when she competed against 'Alwida,' 'Glycera,' 'Quinque,' and 'Archee.' _Racing Records for 1893._ +--------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Prizes | | | 1893 |Starts|-----------------|Figure of| | | |First|Other|Total| merit | |---------------------+------+-----+-----+-----+---------| |_20-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Dragon III | 29 | 19 | 8 | 27 | 52 | |Deirdre | 29 | 9 | 10 | 19 | 25 | |Molly (Dragon II.) | 19 | 1 | 5 | 6 | 4 | | | | | | | | |_5-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Red Lancer | 13 | 11 | 1 | 12 | 59 | |Dacia | 27 | 12 | 10 | 22 | 35 | |Fleur-de-Lis (Squall)| 41 | 11 | 9 | 20 | 22 | |Quinque | 37 | 9 | 11 | 20 | 20 | |Valentine | 12 | 0 | 2 | 2 | 0 | | | | | | | | |_2-1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Meueen | 49 | 26 | 14 | 40 | 44.8 | |Gareth | 53 | 25 | 17 | 42 | 40.1 | |Elf | 34 | 6 | 5 | 11 | 14.3 | |Manx Cat (Polynia) | 46 | 3 | 16 | 19 | 5.4 | |Papoose | 48 | 3 | 16 | 19 | 5.1 | |Kismet | 34 | 2 | 6 | 8 | 4.8 | |Faugh-a-Ballagh | 10 | 1 | 6 | 7 | 4.5 | |Gavotte | 26 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 3.0 | | | | | | | | |_1-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Morwena | 36 | 20 | 8 | 28 | 45.4 | |Sacharissa | 49 | 21 | 14 | 35 | 36.2 | |Scud | 20 | 6 | 7 | 13 | 22.6 | |Tipcat | 33 | 8 | 13 | 21 | 19.6 | |Tartar | 34 | 6 | 12 | 18 | 14.3 | |Wolfhound | 32 | 5 | 5 | 10 | 12.6 | |Whisper | 4 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 12.5 | |Doushka | 12 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 11.4 | |Hark Holla | 5 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 10.7 | |Whoo Whoop | 18 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 8.2 | |Kitten | 10 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 6.5 | |Roulette | 11 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 6.1 | |Javelin | 33 | 1 | 5 | 6 | 2.5 | |Fantasy | 36 | 1 | 11 | 12 | 2.3 | | | | | | | | |_1/2-Rating Class_ | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Wee Winn | 11 | 8 | 3 | 11 | 49.1 | |Coquette | 52 | 25 | 14 | 39 | 40.8 | |Koodoo | 7 | 4 | 2 | 6 | 34.5 | |Ragamuffin | 12 | 5 | 4 | 9 | 28.6 | |Pique | 14 | 3 | 8 | 11 | 15.2 | |Mosquito | 51 | 9 | 18 | 27 | 14.97 | |Queen Bee | 3 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 14.92 | |Ladybird | 37 | 6 | 7 | 13 | 13.3 | |Humming-top | 20 | 3 | 5 | 8 | 11.3 | |Spruce | 18 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 8.2 | |Lady Grizel | 21 | 2 | 6 | 8 | 7.2 | |Idono | 18 | 1 | 6 | 7 | 4.1 | +--------------------------------------------------------+ _The 2-1/2-Raters, 1893._ The racing in this class soon became principally interesting in the duel for first honours between the Gosport boat 'Gareth,' owned by Mr. Henderson, and frequently sailed by Mr. Collingwood Hughes, and the Herreshoff boat 'Meueen,' owned and sailed by Mr. Hardie Jackson, who did so well with 'Faugh-a-Ballagh' in 1892. 'Meueen' was fully 'up to date' except her rig, which was sloop with a gaff-mainsail. This, however, she soon discarded for the more fashionable rig in the small classes, and she always made a fine race with 'Gareth,' except in the hardest weather. Even in strong winds and heavy seas she did well after her lead was increased. She has great overhang, like 'Wenonah' and 'Wee Winn'; but there is nothing excessive in beam or in shallowness of body. Her elements are not at present obtainable, except L.W.L. 24.82 feet, and sail-area 596 square feet. 'Gareth' raced this year on a length for rating of 29.15, and a sail-area of 533 square feet, which together produced a rating of 2.58, and she had to allow time for the excess of rating over 2.5, in accordance with Rule 3, Y.R.A., as revised in 1893. The 'Elf,' a new boat built at Gosport for Mr. Dudley Ward from a design by Mr. C. Nicholson (jun.), was rather too advanced in type. She did fairly well at first, but fell off as the other boats were gradually tuned up to their maxima of efficiency. Her figure of merit was 14.3, 'Gareth's' being 40.1, and 'Meueen' heading the class with 44.8. 'Kismet,' another new boat, built and designed by Payne for Miss Cox, proved to be a disappointment, as the record table indicates. Mr. Gurtside Tipping, R.N., purchased 'Polynia' during the winter of 1892, and raced her in '93 under the new name 'Manx Cat.' She did very well until her keel and attached rudder were removed and replaced by a fin with bulb and a 'disconnected' rudder. This made her very hard on the helm, and she rarely scored afterwards. Mr. Paul Ralli stuck to his good boat 'Papoose,' and tried to invade the 5-rater class with her; but this was frustrated mainly by the clubs promptly adopting conditions to stop this form of inter-class racing. The 'Faugh-a-Ballagh' started in 16 races and scored one first prize; as did 'Gavotte,' which started 26 times on the Solent. 'Undine' started twice, 'Fiera' and 'Cassowary' seven times, but no prizes came to the lockers of these three boats. It is questionable whether this class will retain its popularity. The 2-1/2-rater is decidedly an expensive boat; the first cost and maintenance being nearly as much as a 5-rater, and the comfort very much less. Moreover, it is severely pressed by the class below of 1-rating, which is becoming very popular, and deservedly so. A 1-rater can be built complete for 100 to 150 guineas, whereas some of the new 2-1/2-raters cost nearly 400_l._; and a 5-rater can be built for 500_l._, although it is stated that some of them cost 600_l._ _The 1-Raters, 1893._ It has been very difficult to draw up a record of the class racing in the two smaller classes, because many of the sailing clubs and some of the yacht clubs do not send full reports of their numerous matches to the press. The winners only are mentioned in some reports, but it is necessary to know the number of starts for each boat if her figure of merit is to be calculated. The figures given in the table of winners in the Y. R. Calendar are not trustworthy; first, because the owners often make mistakes in sending in their returns; and, secondly, because some of the results are taken from mixed races, not class races, and some from races outside the Solent. The record table is compiled from the reports of the regattas given in the Y. R. Calendar, and in the 'Yachtsman.' Two of the Portsmouth match days were omitted, and the winners only were mentioned on one of the Royal Albert days, one of the Victoria days, and on the Squadron day. There may, therefore, be a small decimal error in the figure of merit of a few of the boats, but the order of merit may be regarded to be correct as it stands in the table. The best 1-rater was the Yankee boat 'Morwena' with the high M. of 45.4. She is similar to the other Herreshoff boats in the small classes, and has been well sailed. 'Sacharissa' came next with the excellent M. of 36.2. She was sailed faultlessly by Mr. P. Perceval (jun.), and was the best boat turned out by Payne in 1893. 'Scud' came third with an M. of 22.6. She is one of the wide and shallow type, answering well to her name when going over rather than through the water. 'Tipcat' went well; also 'Tartar' and 'Wolfhound.' 'Whisper' was not seen often enough to judge of her merits accurately, but the old 1892 crack 'Doushka' went as well as ever when Mr. Perceval brought her out at the end of the season. 'Fantasy,' a novelty built at Hamble for Mr. Randal Vogan from his own design, went far better than anyone expected. She has a ram bow, long counter, and fin-bulb keel, with narrow beam and sides that tumble home above the water-line. She often scored second honours. 'Mahatma,' 'Viva,' 'Cariad,' 'Rogue,' 'Vlekendor,' 'Leading Article' did not race often on the Solent, and did not score any first prizes. 'Roulette,' 'Dona,' and 'Rogue' did most of their racing on the Thames, which has been tabulated by Mr. Winser, and published in the 'Field' of November 11, 1893. _The 1/2-Raters, 1893._ The smallest class suffered from the extreme popularity of the 1-rater class, and it often occurred that only two or three 1/2-raters started in a race. 'Wee Winn' again proved herself to be the champion boat in the class, but she only competed about a dozen times. She made the fine M. of 49.1. 'Coquette,' which was raced hard all the season, also did remarkably well, and made a fine figure of merit, 40.8. 'Koodoo' and 'Ragamuffin,' which came out late, also did well. 'Sagamore,' 'Nautilus,' 'Tiny,' 'Vega,' 'Khistie,' 'Coral,' and 'Haha' raced occasionally, but failed to score first honours. * * * * * When this chapter was begun the writer feared that designers would refuse to give any information about successful boats, but the tables have been filled in by many of them in a most liberal manner; and the author begs to tender them his thanks, and he hopes those of his readers, for so doing. The elements thus recorded are hull-dimensions, but the sail-dimensions are often equally interesting and instructive. These are given on the certificates and are public property; but they become more valuable for comparison when collected in a tabular form. The table has therefore been made. At present the lugsail, invented by Mr. Tom Ratsey of Cowes, reigns supreme in the small classes, 'Doreen' leading the list with a mainsail about 1,000 sq. ft. in area. Nevertheless, we find 'Wee Winn' beating the other 1/2-raters with a cutter mainsail; but all our experience points to the belief that she would go still better with a lug. The table deserves careful study, and it will be seen that the proportion of head-sail to total S.A. has steadily decreased, until in some boats it has almost reached the vanishing point, and 'Coquette' came out with all her sail in the lug. This tendency is bad, and will be still further encouraged if the actual area of head-sail be measured as proposed by the Council of the Y.R.A.[14] [Footnote 14: The resolution to measure the actual area of head-sails in yachts of 10-rating and under, as proposed by the Council, was lost at the general meeting of the Association held December 6, 1892.] * * * * * Here ends the summary of the Solent racing under the Y.R.A. rule of rating. The type of boat which was produced up to the end of 1891 is excellent, being dry, seaworthy, fast, and easily driven with small sails; but it is easy to see that the most recent developments are not equally satisfactory. In the words of the 'Field,' October 29, 1892:--'It seems that all which is good has been got out of the present rating rule, and there is nothing more to be derived from it but an increase of speed, with a possible decrease of weight, internal space, and sail-spread.' This sums up the much-debated rule question in a single sentence. What the next period will bring depends greatly, perhaps entirely, upon some small mathematical sign in the form for the rule of rating. For instance, the American rules use a sign indicating addition where we use one indicating multiplication, the consequence being that the former is a more adjustable rule than ours--more easily controlled by coefficients. But it is not necessary to enter into these matters now, as they are specially treated in Chapter VII. The racing man on the Solent or the Clyde cares more for the sport than the science involved in questions of displacement, length, and what not; and we may rest assured that whatever the Council of the Y.R.A. do, or leave undone, the sport will proceed in the same enthusiastic manner. There cannot be the smallest doubt that an immense advantage to yachting would be gained if England, France, and America raced under the same rule of rating and a similar classification; and if an international conference were invited to meet in London the thing would be done without much difficulty. The table of Clubs on p. 286 shows that 2,761_l._ in cash and 933_l._ in cups, plate, &c. were won on the Solent in 1892, or a total of 3,723_l._ This does not include the prizes won at the Town Regattas--Cowes, Southampton, Lymington, Yarmouth, Totland Bay, Ryde, and Portsmouth. Good prizes are offered to the raters at several of these regattas, probably increasing the above total to nearly 4,000_l._[15] [Footnote 15: These amounts were all larger in 1893.] _Table of Rig, Dimensions, &c._ +-------------------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----------+------------+-----------------+------------------------------------------------+ | | | | | | Sail | Areas | Spars | Lines | | Name of Yacht | Rig | Date |Rating|L.W.L.+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ | | | | | |Total| Main| Head | Top |Boom |Gaff |Yard | Luff | A | B | C | D | I | J | +--------+----------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ | 10- |Yvonne | Cutter | 1889| 9.80 | 34.10|1,726| 813| 658 |254 |34.00|21.6 | -- | 22.85| 44.3 | 19.2 | 40.2 | 19.3 | 46.2 | 28.5 | | raters|Doreen | Lugger |July 15, 1892| 9.96 | 38.05|1,572|1,061| 511 | -- |38.38| -- |33.38| 18.75| 57.8 | 24.3 | 42.4 | 16.9 | 34.4 | 29.7 | +--------+----------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ | |Alwida | Cutter | May 15, 1890| 4.95 | 29.66|1,002| 684| 318 | -- |29.7 |19.5 | -- | 22.1 | 41.1 | 13.3 | 36.0 | 18.3 | 28.8 | 22.1 | | |Glycera | Cutter | May 15, 1890| 4.93 | 30.97| 957| 657| 300 | -- |29.3 |19.3 | -- | 21.5 | 40.7 | 16.7 | 35.8 | 17.7 | 28.0 | 21.4 | | |Archee | Cutter |Aug. 21, 1890| 4.96 | 30.43| 980| 675| 305 | -- |30.5 |19.5 | -- | 21.4 | 40.5 | 17.25| 36.0 | 18.1 | 29.0 | 21.0 | | |Quinque | Cutter | May 29, 1890| 4.99 | 31.56| 951| 645| 306 | -- |28.8 |19.0 | -- | ? | 40.0 | 16.7 | 35.3 | 17.6 | 25.9 | 23.6 | | 5- |Windfall |Lug. cut.| May 19, 1891| 4.97 | 32.89| 909| 659| 250 | -- |30.4 | -- |27.0 | 17.7 | 47.0 | 19.1 | 33.8 | 12.4 | 25.0 | 20.0 | | raters|Savourna |Lug. slp.|June 2, 1891| 4.94 | 33.40| 888| 669| 219 | -- |31.65| -- |28.6 | 12.0 | 47.0 | 20.5 | 34.0 | 11.0 | 26.5 | 16.53| | |Iernia |Lug. slp.|June 5, 1891| 4.99 | 31.48| 953| 774| 179 | -- |35.75| -- |29.3 | 12.0 | 48.0 | 22.6 | 37.5 | 11.5 | 26.05| 13.75| | |Cyane |Lug. slp.|June 3, 1892| 4.95 | 33.75| 880| 668| 212 | -- |35.5 | -- |28.0 | 13.25| 46.0 | 19.5 | 33.0 | 12.2 | 29.2 | 14.5 | | |Quinque |Lug. slp.|July 21, 1892| 4.96 | 33.15| 898| 677| 221 | -- |35.95| -- |29.6 | 12.75| 46.3 | 21.0 | 33.5 | 11.4 | 27.45| 16.1 | | |Dacia |Lug. slp.|June 15, 1892| 5.00 | 33.83| 888| 700| 188 | -- |31.87| -- |31.6 | 13.0 | 49.4 | 20.2 | 33.0 | 12.2 | 28.13| 13.33| +--------+----------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ | |Thalassa | Sloop | 1887| 2.46 | 20.94| 706| 422| 208 | 76 |22.58|15.82| -- | ? | 31.5 | ? | 27.8 | 14.5 | 25.41| 16.33| | |Thalassa | Sloop | May 17, 1889| 2.49 | 22.95| 652| 452| 200 | -- |22.6 |14.8 | -- | ? | 34.8 | 12.5 | 29.8 | 15.7 | 24.9 | 16.1 | | |Humming Bird |Lug. slp.|July 12, 1889| 2.44 | 25.90| 567| 432| 135 | -- |23.46| -- |23.2 | 11.5 | 39.0 | 15.2 | 26.5 | 10.2 | 23.54| 12.0 | | |Mliss | Sloop | May 15, 1890| 2.50 | 24.97| 603| 448| 155 | -- |24.5 |16.0 | -- | 17.7 | 32.5 | 14.2 | 29.5 | 14.7 | 22.2 | 14.0 | | |Cock-a-Whoop |Lug. slp.|June 18, 1890| 2.50 | 25.00| 600| 438| 162 | -- |24.1 | -- |23.0 | ? | 36.2 | 16.8 | 26.8 | 10.0 | 24.1 | 13.4 | | |Babe |Lug. slp.|1890 and 1891| 2.48 | 26.76| 557| 429| 127 | -- |23.6 | -- |22.9 | 11.6 | 36.5 | 15.6 | 25.4 | 10.5 | 21.7 | 11.7 | | | | {June 12, 1891| 2.49 | 28.00| 536} { 111 } | | | | | | | | | { 10.8 | | |Fiera |Lug. slp.{ | | | } 425{ } -- |23.8 | -- |23.0 | 11.3 | 38.0 | 15.5 | 26.2 | 10.0 | 20.5 { | | | | {June 18, 1892| 2.45 | 27.36| 539} { 114 } | | | | | | | | | { 11.1 | | 2-1/2- |Avadavat |Lug. slp.|June 10, 1891| 2.49 | 28.00| 536| 425| 111 | -- |23.8 | -- |23.0 | 11.3 | 38.0 | 15.5 | 26.2 | 10.0 | 20.5 | 10.8 | | raters |Janetta |Lug. slp.|Aug. 14, 1891| 2.48 | 26.45| 563| 430| 133 | -- |23.8 | -- |23.0 | 11.6 | 38.0 | 15.5 | 28.8 | 10.5 | 22.6 | 11.8 | | |Molly |Lug. slp.| 1892| 2.49 | 28.26| 531| 439| 92 | -- |25.3 | -- |24.5 | 9.5 | 38.0 | 17.0 | 26.7 | 8.7 | 17.1 | 10.7 | | |Stork |Lug. slp.| 1892| 2.50 | 28.52| 527| 442| 85 | -- |25.3 | -- |24.5 | 9.1 | 38.4 | 17.0 | 27.0 | 8.5 | 15.7 | 10.8 | | |Faugh-a-Ballagh |Lug. slp.| May 30, 1892| 2.48 | 27.48| 543| 433| 110 | -- |23.8 | -- |23.7 | 11.3 | 38.5 | 15.3 | 25.8 | 10.3 | 20.0 | 11.0 | | |Cockatoo |Lug. slp.|June 28, 1892| 2.41 | 27.24| 533| 436| 97 | -- |23.3 | -- |24.0 | 12.3 | 40.3 | 14.5 | 25.6 | ? | 20.1 | 9.7 | | |Papoose |Lug. slp.|June 11, 1892| 2.50 | 27.65| 543| 446| 97 | -- |23.6 | -- |24.0 | 12.5 | 40.5 | 14.8 | 26.2 | 11.2 | 20.1 | 9.7 | | |Polynia |Lug. slp.|July 1892| 2.47 | 28.15| 528| 431| 97 | -- |23.6 | -- |24.6 | 10.75| 39.4 | 15.4 | 25.4 | 10.0 | 18.5 | 10.5 | | |Gareth |Lug. slp.|July 30, 1892| 2.48 | 28.02| 533| 442| 91 | -- |24.9 | -- |24.5 | 10.6 | 40.3 | 15.4 | 26.2 | 10.0 | 10.7 | 9.7 | | |Wenonah | Sloop | Aug. 3, 1892| 2.40 | 25.05| 577| 449| 128 | -- |27.4 |14.9 | -- | ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | 19.6 | 13.1 | +--------+----------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ | | | { 1890| 0.99 | 18.21| 328| } | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Pup |Lug. slp.{ | | | | 272} 72 | -- |20.0 | -- |18.4 | 7.8 | 29.5 | 13.2 | 21.2 | 7.3 | 15.2 | 9.4 | | | | {July 1892| 0.99 | 17.37| 344| } | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Rogue |Lug. slp.|Aug. 18, 1892| 0.99 | 20.91| 285| 238| 47 | -- |18.5 | -- |18.3 | 7.00| 28.0 | 12.5 | 19.4 | 6.5 | 13.5 | 7.0 | | 1- |Barbet |Lug. slp.|Aug. 23, 1892| 0.97 | 20.27| 288| 249| 39 | -- |19.0 | -- |18.9 | 6.25| 29.0 | 12.9 | 20.0 | 6.2 | 10.2 | 7.6 | | raters|Doushka |Lug. slp.|June 30, 1892| 0.98 | 21.07| 281| 245| 36 | -- | ? | -- |19.0 | 5.75| 28.8 | 13.2 | 20.0 | 5.5 | 10.0 | 7.2 | | |Nansheen |Lug. slp.| May 28, 1892| 0.99 | 20.24| 297| 251| 46 | -- |19.5 | -- |17.0 | 8.00| 28.0 | 12.4 | 20.5 | 7.5 | 12.8 | 7.2 | | |Mahatma |Lug. slp.|Apr. 27, 1892| 0.99 | 20.61| 289| 242| 47 | -- |18.4 | -- |17.7 | 6.5 | 27.0 | 13.1 | 20.0 | 5.9 | 14.7 | 6.5 | +--------+----------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ | |Coquette |Lug. slp.| May 14, 1891| 0.50 | 15.58| 192| 192| -- | -- |16.8 | -- |14.9 | 7.6 | 25.2 | 10.3 | 17.8 | 7.0 | -- | -- | | |Dee Dee |Lug. slp.|July 14, 1891| 0.50 | 17.17| 177| 149| 28 | -- |14.8 | -- |14.9 | 4.6 | 21.5 | 10.8 | 15.8 | 4.2 | 11.00| 5.1 | | |Jeanie |Lug. slp.|June 18, 1891| 0.50 | 16.25| 187| 162| 25 | -- | ? | -- |12.7 | 6.1 | 22.9 | 9.7 | 17.0 | 5.6 | 12.3 | 4.1 | | |Spruce | Yawl |Aug. 27, 1891| 0.41 | 16.20| 154| 123| -- | -- | ? |12.9 | -- | 4.75| 17.0 | 10.4 | 13.8 | 4.4 | -- | -- | | 1/2- |Eileen |Lug. slp.| May 13, 1891| 0.49 | 15.90| 185| 144|(mizz.|30.5)| 5.95| 7.0 | | 2.83| 8.5 | 5.2 | 6.5 | 2.6 |mizzen| -- | | raters|Narua |Lug. slp.| May 19, 1891| 0.49 | 15.97| 183| 143| 41 | -- |14.5 | -- |14.9 | 4.8 | 20.3 | 11.0 | 15.0 | 4.3 | 12.6 | 6.5 | | | | { 1891| | | | } 40 | -- |14.6 | -- |14.8 | 4.8 | 20.0 | 11.0 | 15.0 | 4.3 | 12.6 | 6.4 | | |Dancing Girl |Lug. slp.{ | 0.50 | 15.99| 189| 167} | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | {July 13, 1892| | | | } 22 | -- |16.4 | -- |15.0 | 4.8 | 23.4 | 11.0 | 17.1 | 4.5 | 11.1 | 4.0 | | |Daisy |Lug. slp.| Aug. 26 1892| 0.50 | 17.10| 176| 152| 24 | -- |15.6 | -- |14.1 | 5.3 | 22.2 | 10.0 | 16.0 | 5.1 | 9.0 | ? | | |Wee Winn | Sloop |July 23, 1892| 0.46 | 15.61| 178| 141| 37 | -- |15.1 | 9.16| -- | 8.6 | 18.8 | 8.2 | 16.6 | 7.7 | 10.9 | 6.7 | +--------+----------------+---------+-------------+------+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+------+------+------+------+------+ Some of these town regattas are managed in a most remarkable manner, the fireworks at night being perhaps the most important matter for consideration in the eyes of the Committee. A year or two back, the raters at Cowes were started in a line with the committee vessel, with no outside limit! On the day of the race it was a lee shore; consequently Lord Dunraven, Mr. Perceval, and one or two others who were wider awake than the rest, started in the dim distance, well to windward, and romped down full and bye to the first mark. At Lymington the 5-raters are started from a line at the river-mouth from a little boat, by a little man, with a little gun and a big flag, and the finish is right up the river, in a narrow place thronged with small boats, with probably a four-oared race in progress. After an accident has taken place and a few people are drowned, this may be altered. At Totland Bay in 1892 there was a handicap for which two very unequal boats had entered. The sailing committee could not agree about the handicap; some bright genius therefore proposed that the difference of time between the boats at the end of the first round should be multiplied by 3 for the handicap on the three rounds, and it is said that this was actually done! And so on. These regattas are very good fun, if only because the unexpected usually occurs. The men who have made the Solent racing what it is must now be mentioned:-- Mr. Wolff, the Hon. Sec. of the R.S.Y.C., and the late Mr. McCheane, Hon. Sec. of the R.P.C.Y.C., have already been alluded to. Colonel Bucknill, Hon. Sec. of the Castle Yacht Club; Mr. Blair Onslow Cochrane, Hon. Sec. of the Bembridge Sailing Club; Mr. Barrow, Hon. Sec. of the Island Sailing Club; Mr. Herbert Ridsdale, Hon. Sec. of the Hamble Branch of the Minima Sailing Club, have in like manner worked hard and very successfully in the cause. So also have many of the flag officers in the various clubs, and especially should be mentioned Mr. Frederick Cox, who for years has been a persevering patron of the sport--both in the Solent length classes and afterwards in the present Solent classes (Y.R.A. rating). Mr. Cox's sons and daughters have raced a number of yachts: 'Lil,' 'Verena,' 'Madcap,' 'Merrythought,' 'Kitten,' 'Ethel,' 'Mliss,' 'Troublesome,' 'Fiera,' 'Mosquito,' all under the protecting wing of the head centre, typified by the steamer 'Zinaida.' Mr. Cox is Commodore of the Royal Southampton, Rear Commodore (or is it Rear Admiral now?) of the Royal London, and Rear Commodore of the Castle Yacht Clubs. He is also a member of the Council Y.R.A. [Illustration: SOLENT OWNERS' RACING COLOURS.] Captain Hughes and his family of sons and daughters have followed the sport for a long time in the same enthusiastic way, and have raced the following boats: 'Lil,' 'Fairy,' 'Jenny Wren,' 'Madcap,' 'Flutterby,' 'Humming Bird,' 'Cock-a-Whoop,' and 'Cockatoo.' Captain Hughes was most active in starting the Castle Yacht Club, and for a short time was the Hon. Sec. In addition to the above, the chief patrons and promoters of the sport during the past few years have been the Marquis of Exeter, the Marquis of Ailsa, the Earl of Dunraven, the Earl of Desart, the Earl of Dudley, the late Mr. Sidney Watson, Colonel the Hon. H. G. L. Crichton, Captain the Hon. J. M. Yorke, Colonel F. Dugmore, Captain J. R. F. Fullerton, R.N., Admiral the Hon. Victor Montagu, R.N., Mr. W. H. Forster, Mr. R. S. Hankinson, Mr. P. Perceval, jun., Mr. George Schenley, the Hon. G. Colville, Captain Cecil Drummond, Captain Du Boulay, Captain Davenport, Mr. Wilson Hoare, R.N., Mr. Granville Keele, Admiral Hallowes, R.N., Mr. Paul Ralli, Mr. W. A. Beauclerk, Mr. A. D. Clarke, Mr. H. R. Langrishe, Captain C. E. Haynes, R.E., Lieut.-Colonel Moreton, Mr. F. L. Popham, Mr. E. F. Quilter, Mr. W. S. Nicholson, Mr. J. P. Ranwell, Mr. L. M. Ames, Captain R. Alexander, Mr. G. F. Flemmich, Mr. H. L. Hewitt, Mr. A. Manning, Mr. R. Vogan, and a number more, whose names would fill a page. The ladies who have taken an active part in the racing should also be mentioned, as their presence has done much to make the sport popular and fashionable. Prominent among them are Ladies Fanny and Blanche Stanhope, Mrs. Sidney Watson, Mrs. Schenley and her sisters the Misses Hughes, Mrs. Rudston-Read and her sister Miss Cox, Mrs. H. Duff-Gordon and her sister Miss Hammersley, Mrs. Arthur Heygate, Mrs. Blair Onslow Cochrane, the Misses Sutton, and Colonel Bucknill's daughters. Oilskins and sou'-westers are really very becoming, and if this fact were generally known, the ranks of the ladies might gain recruits, and this word leads to the next division of our subject:-- HINTS TO THE NOVICE If a beginner wish to learn the art of small-yacht racing he cannot do better than start with a second-hand 1-rater, costing say from 50_l._ to 80_l._ Such a boat if new would cost from 100_l._ to 150_l._ The next step is to hire a good lad (sixteen or seventeen years old) for the crew, wages from 16 _s._ to 20_s._ a week, and some racing money, say 5_s._ for a first, and 2_s._ 6_d._ for a second or third prize. No prize, no racing money. The lad will ask for a suit of clothes, and if he seem likely to suit, the suit may be given on the distinct understanding that, should he leave the job voluntarily or on account of misbehaviour, the clothes will be kept by the owner. The clothes are part of the equipment of the yacht, and belong to the owner, who should see that they are worn on board, and not kept entirely for shore service. Nothing looks worse than a ramshackle, untidy fellow on a smart little yacht. Racing boats and crews should be as smart at the starting line as guns and gunners on parade. The young owner must then settle how much racing he can manage, and on what days it will be most convenient. 'Thalassa's' Almanac, published by King & Co., High Street, Southampton, may be consulted with advantage, as an attempt is made therein to give the whole of the club programmes for the season, so far as they are known by the secretaries at the beginning of the year. It will be found that Saturdays are practically secured by the Royal Southampton and the Royal Portsmouth Clubs; Mondays by the Royal London and the Castle Clubs; Wednesdays by the Royal Albert Yacht Club and the Island Sailing Club; Thursdays are chosen by the Royal Victoria Yacht Club, and Fridays by the Solent Yacht Club and the Minima Sailing Club. Examine the Almanac again, note which of the clubs give 'open' races and which 'club' races; and then it will be easy to settle which clubs are most convenient, and to take the necessary steps for being entered as a candidate. The next point to settle is the best headquarters for the little ship, and this depends on so many personal considerations that advice is impossible. Remember, however, that a 1-rater requires a sheltered anchorage, and that moorings keep mud off the decks, and save time and bother. The best anchorages for _small_ boats are: (1) the Itchen river, at or above the Floating Bridge; (2) the Hamble river, at or above the Salterns; (3) Calshot, up the Creek; (4) Portsmouth Harbour, especially up Haslar Creek; (5) Bembridge Harbour; (6) Wooton Creek; (7) Cowes, above the ferry; (8) Beaulieu river, inside the coastguard station; (9) Newtown river; (10) Yarmouth, the harbour; (11) Lymington river; (12) Keyhaven. Do _not_ anchor for the night, or moor so small a boat as a 1-rater off the pier at Southampton, off Hythe, at Calshot (except up the creek), in Cowes Harbour (except up the river), off Ryde, off Southsea, in Yarmouth Roads, or in Totland Bay. If you do so, you will wake some stormy morning to find her more or less damaged, and possibly wrecked. The boy will have very strong opinions concerning the best place for moorings. Don't listen to him. Fix on the place that suits yourself and your friends best. Next decide where you will go for the everlasting scrub, paint up, and frequent repairs. If on the Itchen, there are Fay & Co., Summers & Payne, and Field close to the Floating Bridge to choose from. If on the Medina, either White, Ratsey, or Sibbick. If on the Hamble, there are Luke & Co. If in Portsmouth Harbour, Camper & Nicholson at Gosport, or Reid on the Portsmouth basin. If sails give out, repairs can be quickly done at reasonable charges by Beaton of Bugle Street, Southampton; but new sails for racing should be obtained from Ratsey at Cowes or Lapthorn at Gosport. The next step to take is very interesting. Collect your lady friends, and ask each of them to design a racing flag; paint each design full size, and examine them simultaneously from a distance, say one cable at least, as a flag should be easily distinguished at this distance in any weather. Two colours are generally sufficient. Black, or some dark colour, with white or yellow; also red, with white or yellow. If three colours be used, separate the red from the dark colours by white or yellow. Employ strong contrasts. Remember that a simple design shows best and costs least. Also that a flag with horizontal seams flies better than any other, except one with no seams at all. However small the boat, the racing flag should never be less than 10 inches wide by 8-1/2 inches high. The winning flags may be smaller, say 6 or 7 inches square, for a 1/2- or a 1-rater. The following dimensions may be regarded as 'suitable sizes' (see Rule 11, Y.R.A.) for the racing flags in the 'Solent classes':-- height width 1/2-raters and 1-raters 8 inches by 10 inches 2-1/2-raters 10 " " 12 " 5-raters 12 " " 14 " 10-raters 14 " " 17 " Having settled on the size and pattern of flag, proceed to Mr. Wolff, High Street, Southampton, and order two or three, and (say) a dozen of the smaller size to hoist as winning flags. Make a solemn vow to win a dozen flags in the season, and if you fail the first year, stick to your colours and try again. The boat must now be prepared for the racing; all ropes and gear carefully examined, her top sides and bottom carefully rubbed down, painted, and varnished, until everything is as fit as a fiddle, and the bottom smooth as a bottle. Next buy a copy of the Y.R.A. Rules, Dixon Kemp's book on 'Yacht and Boat Sailing,' and King's 'Channel Pilot.' Study each carefully, especially Chapter VIII. of Kemp's book. More than half the difficulties and troubles connected with the sport are due to ignorance of the rules.[16] In every other sport such ignorance is regarded with the contempt it deserves, but in yacht and boat racing the rules are somewhat complex and difficult--all the more reason for learning them carefully. [Footnote 16: See chapter on the Racing Rules and Rules of Rating.] Every racing owner should enter his yacht strictly in accordance with Rule 5, Y.R.A., and it saves trouble if an owner has a card with the declaration at entry, his personal address, and the yacht's racing flag printed upon it. Care should be taken to post this 'entry' so that the club secretary receives it in proper time. Do not rely on the 48 hours' clause, but examine the club programme, as the entries are not unfrequently closed earlier. The day before the race give the most distinct instructions to crew as to the time and place of meeting on the morrow, and keep the appointment punctually. Provide yourself with a chronograph, and it may help you to win prizes by means of good starts. Get to the starting line half an hour before your start if you can, and get a card of the races if one has not already reached you through the post. Read it carefully, and, should anything appear to be doubtful, have it cleared up by the race officer, or by the club secretary. If other races start before you, do not get in the way of the starting boats. Note when the ten minutes preparatory flag for your own race is hoisted; you will then be the better prepared to start your chronograph at the first gun. See Rule 17. After first gun, stand off and on _near_ the starting line. Remember that you are now 'under the rules.' Have Rule 18 by heart, and understand each clause of it. During the last half-minute before the second or starting gun, manoeuvre for the place you wish to secure, be there at the flash of gun, and if possible just to windward, or just ahead of your most dangerous antagonist. If you think you are over the line at gunfire, keep a sharp look out for your recall numeral (Rule 12), and directly it is displayed return, and cross the line; but keep clear of other competitors in doing so. After the start do not go in for a luffing match or allow yourself to be luffed by a yacht you do not fear. Stick to the boat you fear most. Remember Rule 19 in rounding the marks. If the weather be light, keep your weather eye open for every cat's-paw, and do not lose an inch during the whole race by careless steering. Be careful when you come to the run to put spinnaker up on the best side; and, if you run by the lee, shift it over at once without parleying with the boy. After the finish, if you win, sign the declaration (Rule 10, Y.R.A.) and send it ashore as soon as possible. If you have any cause for protest against another yacht, or should any protest be lodged against your own yacht, go ashore at once and see the matter through. After the race it has been customary for the second yacht to cheer the winner--like shaking hands after a boxing match--but this old custom is now dying out. Never permit your crew to bandy remarks with the hands on other yachts, either during a race or after it. If your boat wins, lower the racing flag, and hoist the club burgee with your winning flag one fathom below it. If she do not win, sail home with the racing flag still flying, this being the label of your boat's _raison d'être_. Never accept a prize unless you feel that every rule and regulation has been properly followed; see that your opponents follow them too; cut those men who do not race honourably, and show them up if you can. Keep a log, and enter upon it everything of interest concerning the boat and the racing. Every little change of gear should be carefully noted; the position of crew when the boat goes best, and every detail which may help to point the way to any improvement, either in the boat herself or in the type which she represents. Such a log enables you to draw up an accurate record at the end of the season, and is valuable in later years as a reminder of past pleasures and adventures. [Illustration: ROYAL SOUTHAMPTON YACHT CLUB EST. 1875. "BRAMBLES COURSE." F. S. Weller.] At the end of the first or second season you may decide to have a larger boat and crew. If so, consider carefully whether you will not skip the 2-1/2 rating class and start a 5-rater. Two paid hands are required with a 2-1/2, and a 5 can be managed with the same crew if Corinthian help be obtainable. The maintenance of a 2-1/2 is not much smaller than that of a 5, and the latter is a little ship in which you can sleep with comfort and cook a meal. A modern 5 is 11 tons Thames measurement, and can go anywhere when properly built, like the 'Windfall,' 'Quinque,' and 'Savourna.' As Lord Dunraven truly said, 'the 5's and the 20's are the cheapest classes'; and to these I would add the 1's. The 1/2-, 2-1/2-, and 10-raters are the dearest classes. Many men may, like yourself, be wishing to go a class higher, and you may therefore pick up a good boat at a low price towards the end of the racing season. If not, you must build; and the great question then arises, who to go to? The most successful designers on the Solent in the 2-1/2 and the 5-rater classes are Mr. Arthur Payne and Mr. Charles Nicholson; but Mr. G. L. Watson and Mr. Willie Fife were equally invincible on the Clyde, until the appearance in 1892 of Mr. Herreshoff's 2-1/2 'Wenonah.' Mr. C. P. Clayton and Mr. A. Richardson are also designers of great ability, while Mr. G. M. Soper and Mr. Herbert Ridsdale have produced some fast boats for the orders they have received. Whomsoever you select, have your boat built under his very eye. If a Scotch designer, build in Scotland; if a Solent designer, build there. Moreover, look after the boat yourself when she is building, and learn the tricks of the trade--if you can. Insist upon having your boat fitted out at least a fortnight before the first race, as a new boat often requires no end of doctoring before her best trim is discovered. Her new sails also require to be carefully stretched, in suitable weather; and finally she should be officially measured before she races. For these several reasons it is necessary to specify date of completion in the contract, and to have a clause whereby the builder can be heavily fined week by week for non-fulfilment--such fines being deducted from the final payment. There should also be a clause empowering the owner to complete the work in the builder's yard himself in the event of the builder, from any cause whatever, being unable to carry out the contract. An arbitration clause in the event of a disagreement is very desirable. Insure the yacht against fire to the full amount of the work done as it proceeds. A 5-rater, complete with sails, properly 'found' in every way, should not cost more than 500l., including the designer's fee, and a modern 2-1/2 rater should not cost more than 300_l._ They cost less than 260_l._ in 1887-8 and 1888-9. The difference is due to higher pay per hour for labour, the Societies now refusing to permit piecework, also to more expensive materials, higher finish, and greater length of hull. As for the crew, the owner of a 5 may consider himself fortunate if he can secure the services of a good man as skipper for 30_s._ a week, clothes (about 5_l._ worth), 20_s._ racing money for a first prize, and 10_s._ for a second or a third prize. It is a mistake to give racing money for losing. At present it is only done by a few wealthy and thoughtless owners, who will soon ruin the sport unless the majority combine to put a stop to their extravagance. Losing money is legitimate enough in the large racers, where the yachts make long passages by night and day in all weathers from regatta to regatta. By such crews the losing money is earned, but the crews of small Solent racers, who sleep comfortably at home in their beds, and often have little or nothing to do between the races, should not get it. It costs from 100_l._ to 150_l._ to maintain and race a 5- or a 2-1/2 rater for the twenty weeks of the season, from which may be deducted the value of the prizes won, less entrance fees and racing money. This sum covers a crew of two paid hands, and the owner of a 5 must enlist two or three Corinthians to help at each race. Unfortunately, there is a lamentable deficiency of these mariners on the Solent. DETAILS OF YACHT CLUBS AND SAILING CLUBS ON THE SOLENT +------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | Royal | Royal | Royal | Royal | Royal | | Royal | | | | | | | ---- | Royal | London | Southern| Victoria | Albert | Southampton | Solent | Portsmouth | Castle | Bembridge | Island | Minima | Totals | | | Yacht | Yacht | Yacht | Yacht | Yacht | Yacht | Yacht | Corinthian | Yacht | Sailing | Sailing | Sailing | | | | Squadron | Club | Club | Club | Club | Club | Club | Yacht Club | Club | Club | Club | Club | | |------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| | Established | 1812 | 1838 | 1843 | 1844 | 1864 | 1875 | 1878 | 1880 | 1887 | 1886 | 1889 | 1889 | | | Head-quarters | Cowes | 1882 Cowes | Sthmptn | Ryde | Sthsea | Sthmptn | Yrmth | Prtsmth | Calshot | Bmbrdg | Cowes | Hamble | | | Entrance Fee | £ 100 | ... | 2g. | 5g. | 4g. | 2g. | 1g. | 2g. | £ 3 | 2g. | 1g. | 1/2 g. | | | Ann. subscription | £ 11 | {4g. | {3g. | 6g. | 4g. | {1-1/2g. | 1g. | 2g. | £ 3 | 1g. | 1g. | 1/2 g. | | | | | {6g. | {4g. | | | {2g. | | | | | | | | | 1892. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | No. of members | 224 | 650 | 300 | 300 | 300 | 711 | 90 | 500 | 100 | 150 | 140 | 250 | | | Prizes, cash, won | £ 409 | £ 128 | £ 207 | £ 400 | £ 227 | £ 435 | £ 40 | £ 434 | £ 204 | £ 85 | £ 105 | £ 87 | £ 2,761 | | Cups, Value " | £ 110 | ... | £ 75 | £ 235 | £ 207 | Medals | £ 20 | £ 10 | £ 148 | £ 85 | £ 25 | £ 18 | £ 933 | | Races } | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | sailed } 60-R. &c.| 4 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 1 | 1 | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 12 | | " 40-R. | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 1 | 4 | ... | 1 | ... | ... | ... | ... | 14 | | " 20-R. | ... | ... | 1 | ... | ... | 2 | ... | ... | 2 | ... | ... | ... | 5 | | " 10-R. | 1 | ... | ... | 1 | ... | 4 | ... | ... | 1 | ... | ... | ... | 7 | | " 5-R. | 1 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 8 | 3 | 4 | 12 | ... | ... | ... | 40 | | " 2-1/2-R. | 1 | 2 | 2 | 9 | 6 | 8 | 3 | 9 | 12 | 2 | 9 | 2 | 65 | | " 1-R. | ... | 2 | 2 | 7 | 6 | 8 | 1 | 7 | 9 | 1 | 9 | 12 | 64 | | " 1/2-R. | ... | 2 | 2 | 7 | 6 | 8 | 3 | 9 | 7 | 13 | 9 | 9 | 75 | | Yachts' cutters | ... | ... | 2 | ... | ... | ... | ... | 1 | 2 | ... | ... | ... | 5 | | Handicaps sailed | 2 | 1 | 2 | 2 | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 2 | ... | ... | 1 | 19 | | Other races " | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | 22 | 4 | 6 | 32 | | Total races " | 10 | 10 | 16 | 36 | 28 | 47 | 11 | 34 | 47 | 38 | 31 | 30 | 338 | | Race days | 4 | 3 | 2 | 10 | 6 | 11 | 3 | 11 | 12 | 33 | 9 | 12 | 116 | +------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------+ SOME SOLENT RACERS, PRIOR TO 1886 +--------------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----------+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | O.H. | | | | | | | | |Rig | Yacht | Owner and Designer | R. | S.A.|L.W.L.|-----+-----|L.O.A.| B. | D. |Drght.|Displ.|Ballast| When | | | | | | | |Fwrd.| Aft | | | | | tons | tons | built| +----|---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | 21-FOOTERS | | | | S. | Fairy |{Capt. J. W. Hughes }|2.5 | 717| 20.8 | ? | ? | ? | 8.5 | 3.4 | ? | ? | ? | 1881 | | | |{Stockham }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Bird-o' |{Mr. H. L. Popham }| ? | ? | 21 | ? | ? | ? | 6.3 | 5.0 | ? | ? | ? | 1883 | | | Freedom |{Feltham }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Tootsie |{M. A. E. Payne }|1.25| ? | 16.5 | .25 | .16 | ? | 6.6 | 4.5 | 4.0 | 2.25 | 1.5 | 1885 | | | (Minnow)|{Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Minima |{Mr. St. J. Arabin }|4.65|1,333| 20.8 | ? | ? | 33.0 | 8.4 | 6.6 | 6.7 | 6.0 | 4.0 | 1886 | | | |{Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Volador |{Lt. A. H. Oliver, R.N.}| ? |1,300| 21 | 4.5 | 8 | 33.5 | 8.5 | 6.6 | 6.5 | 6.6 | 3.2 | 1886 | | |{Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Scylla |{Mr. L. Ergremont }| ? | ? | 21 | ? | ? | ? | 8.9 | 5.3 | ? | ? | ? | 1886 | | |{Luke }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | 25-FOOTERS | | | | C. | Frolic |{Mr. E. Bridges Webb }|7.26|1,741| 25 | ? | ? | ? | 9.0 | ? | ? | ? | ? | 1882 | | | |{Hatcher }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Lil |{Mr. F. Cox }|7.26|1,742| 25 | 4.6 | 6.3 | 35.9 | 9.1 | 6.8 | 6.7 | 8.6 | 5.3 | 1884 | | | |{Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Verena |{Mr. R. H. Cox }|7.96|1,910| 25 | 5.5 | 8.4 | 38.9 | 9.8 | ? | 7.2 | 9.4 | 5.3 | 1886 | | | |{Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | 30-FOOTERS | | | | C. | Bonina |{Mr. A. O. Baylay }|9.14|1,830| 30 | ? | ? | 41 | 9.7 | 7.4 | 7.3 | 13.1 | 7.5 | 1882 | | | |{Dixon Kemp }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Keepsake|{Mr. H. W. Forster }|8.66|1,730| 30 | 4.4 | 6.3 | 40.7 | 9.7 | ? | 7.0 | 13.7 | 7.8 | 1882 | | | |{Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Eclipse |{Mr. A. Manning }|9.4 |2,090| 30 | 5.2 | 8.0 | 43.2 |10.1 | 7.5 | 7.7 | 13.5 | 8.0 | 1884 | | | |{Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Curtsey |{Mr. H. W. Forster }|10.8|2,180| 30 | 6.0 | 8.3 | 44.3 |10.5 | 8.0 | 7.8 | 13.8 | 7.6 | 1885 | | | |{Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ 10-RATERS, 1882-92 +----+---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----------+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | O.H. | | | | | | | | |Rig | Yacht | Owner and Designer | R. | S.A.|L.W.L.|-----+-----|L.O.A.| B. | D. |Drght.|Displ.|Ballast| When | | | | | | | |Fwrd.| Aft | | | | | tons | tons | built| +----+---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Dolly |{Mr. T. W. Ratsey }|9.99|1,663| 36.09| 0.5 | 0.4 | 37 | 11.3| 4.6 | 6.10 | 13 | 6.5 | 1872 | | | Varden |{ J. S. White }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Frolic |{Mr. Bridges Webb }|7.21|1,704| 25.41| ? | ? | ? | 9.0 | ? | ? | ? | ? | 1882 | | | |{ Hatcher }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Doris |{Messrs. R. & B. Allan }|9.48|1,681| 33.86| ? | | ? | 5.6 | 6.6 | ? | ? | ? | 1885 | | | |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Jenny |{Mr. R. E. Froude }|9.59|1,705| 33.79| ? | ? | ? | 5.5 | 6.8 | ? | ? | ? | 1885 | | | Wren |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Verena |{Mr. R. H. Cox }|7.10|1,716| 24.85| 5.6 | 8.4 | 38.9 | 9.8 | 7.2 | 7.2 | 9.4 | 5.3 | 1886 | | | |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Wanderer|{Mr. J. Lee Barber }|9.00|1,580| 34.15| ? | ? | ? | 9.0 | 5.0 | ? | ? | ? | 1886 | | | |{ Brighton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Lollipop|{Mr. Arabin }|6.49|1,325| 29.3 | 0.2 | 8.0 | 37.5 | 9.2 | 7.3 | ? | 10.7 | ? | 1888 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Dis |{Mr. A. D. Clarke }|9.94|1,658| 36.0 | 6.0 | 9.1 | 51.1 | 9.1 | 7.1 | 7.7 | 14.8 | 8 | 1888 | | | |{ Soper }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Decima |{Mr. Arabin }|9.98|1,679| 36.0 | 1.0 | 9.4 | 46.4 |11.0 | 7.5 | 8.5 | 14.3 | ? | 1889 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Yvonne |{Mr. P. Donaldson }|9.80|1,726| 34.10| 5.5 | 8.5 | 48.1 | 8.9 | 6.6 | 8.1 | 12.9 | 7.75 | 1889 | | | |{ Fife }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Drina |{Prince B. Strattmann }|9.95|1,801| 33.17| 0.48| 7.80| 41.45| 9.8 | 6.7 | 8.4 | 15.0 | 7.2 | 1889 | | | |{ Dixon Kemp }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |{Admiral the Hon. }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Nety |{Victor Montagu, R.N. }|8.82|1,764| 30.0 | 4.5 | 6.2 | 40.7 | 9.5 | 6.8 | 6.8 | 8.6 | ? | 1884 | | | (Lil) |{ Clayton | | | | | | | | | | | | 1889 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.C.| Doreen |{Mr. J. Gretton }|9.96|1,572| 38.05| 8.2 |10.3 | 56.5 |11.2 | 7.5 | 8.5 | 14 | 8 | 1892 | | | |{ Fife }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+---------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ 5-RATERS, 1888-92 +---------------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----------+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | O.H. | | | | | | | | |Rig | Yacht | Owner and Designer | R. | S.A.|L.W.L.|-----+-----|L.O.A.| B. | D. |Drght.|Displ.|Ballast| When | | | | | | | |Fwrd.| Aft | | | | | tons | tons | built| +----|----------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. |Chittywee |{Mr. H. Farmer }|4.8 |1,213| 28.2 | ? | ? | ? | 4.8 | ? | ? | ? | ? | 1882 | | | |{ Ash }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Fair |{Mr. L. M. Ames }|4.98|1,000| 30.0 | 4.5 | 7.5 | 42.0 | 7.5 | 5.5 | 5.3 | 8.0 | 4.6 | 1888 | | |Geraldine |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. |Flutterby |{Mr. F. Hughes }|3.98| 938| 25.5 | ? | ? | ? | 8.1 | 4.5 | ? | ? | ? | 1888 | | | |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. |Lollipop |{Mr. Perceval }|4.98|1,000| 29.5 | 0.21| 8.08| 37.79| 9.2 | 7.3 | 7.0 | ? | ? | 1888 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Alwida |{Earl of Dunraven }|4.97|1,003| 29.75| 1.31| 1.79| 32.85| 8.4 | 6.0 | 7.2 | 8.2 | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Glycera |{Mr. Perceval }|4.98| 967| 31.16| 1.04| 1.41| 33.61| 8.6 | 5.6 | 7.0 | 8.3 | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Quinque |{Col. Bucknill }|4.99| 948| 31.61| 1.34| ? | ? | 9.0 | 6.1 | 6.6 | 8.6 | 5.3 | 1890 | | | |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Ditto | Ditto |4.98| 997| 30.02| 1.34| 1.9 | 33.26| 9.0 | 6.1 | 7.0 | 8.7 | 5.0 | 1891 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Ditto | Ditto |4.96| 898| 33.15| 1.45| 2.5 | 37.1 | 9.0 | 6.1 | 7.5 | 8.7 | 4.7 | 1892 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Archee |{Mr. J. McNish }|4.96| 980| 30.43| 6.67| 7.9 | 45.0 | 9.3 | 4.4 |{5.1} | 8.8 | 4.5 | 1890 | | | (C.B.) |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | |{8.0} | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. |Valentine |{Mrs. Schenley }|4.95| 997| 29.83| 6.17| 8.0 | 44.0 | 7.2 | 6.3 | 7.4 | 8.2 | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.C.| Windfall |{Mrs. Schenley }|4.97| 909| 32.89| 1.11| 1.3 | 35.3 | 8.66| 6.0 | 7.0 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Savourna |{Mr. Perceval }|4.94| 888| 33.4 | 1.18| 1.22| 35.80| 8.75| 6.0 | 7.2 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. |Katherine |{Mr. W. A. Black }|4.99| 969| 30.94| ? | ? | ? | 7.5 | ? | 6.5 | ? | 5.4 | 1891 | | | |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Iernia |{Mr. H. R. Langrishe }|4.99| 953| 31.48| 6.0 | 8.42| 45.9 | 8.0 | 6.0 | 7.2 | 8.7 | 5.4 | 1891 | | | |{ Fife }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Cyane |{Earl of Dunraven }|4.95| 880| 33.75| 3.1 | 1.5 | 38.35| 8.4 | 5.5 | 7.75 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Dacia |{Mr. H. R. Langrishe }|5.00| 888| 33.83| 5.14| 9.17| 48.14| 8.3 | ? | 8.6 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Nicholson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+----------+------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ 2-1/2-RATERS, 1887-92 +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----------+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | O.H. | | | | | | | | |Rig | Yacht | Owner and Designer | R. | S.A.|L.W.L.|-----+-----|L.O.A.| B. | D. |Drght.|Displ.|Ballast| When | | | | | | | |Fwrd.| Aft | | | | | tons | tons | built| +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Heathen |{Mr. W. A. Beauclerk }|2.34| 571 | 24.70| ? | ? | ? | 6.0 | 3.2 | ? | ? | ? | 1879 | | | Chinee |{ Mackenzie }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Bird-o'- |{Mr. H. S. Popham }| | | 21.00| | | ? | 6.3 | 5.0 | ? | ? | altd. | 1883 | | | Freedom |{ Feltham }|2.5 | 625 | | ? | ? | | | | | | | | | | |{ }| | | 24.00| | | | 6.3 | 6.0 | | | | 1886 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Fairy |{Captain J. W. Hughes }|2.5 | 723 | 20.77| ? | ? | ? | 8.4 | 3.3 | ? | ? | altd. | 1881 | | | |{ Pickett }| | | | | | | | | | | | 1887 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Thalassa |{Col. Bucknill }|2.49| 714 | 20.94| ? | ? | ? | 7.4 | 4.9 | 5.8 | ? | ? | 1887 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Madcap |{Miss Cox }|2.49| 714 | 21.0 | ? | ? | ? | 7.3 | 4.0 | | | | 1887 | | | |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | 5.4 | 4.1 | 2.7 | | | | |{ }|2.49| 694 | 21.62| 0.2 | 6.3 | 27.5 | 7.3 | 4.0 | | | | 1888 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Ada |{Mr. A. Manning }|2.5 | 612 | 24.48| 3.5 | 4.35| 32.33| 7.0 | 5.0 | 5.0 | ? | ? | 1888 | | | |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Chipmunk |{Mr. Sidney C. Watson }|2.48| 749 | 19.87| 4 | 8 | 32 | 7.7 | 4.5 | 6 | 3.2 | 2.5 | 1888 | | | |{ Luke }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Lady Nan |{Mr. W. Waller }|2.5 | 653 | 22.97| 0.5 | 1.25| 24.65| 8.3 | 4.7 | 5.7 | 4.1 | ? | 1888 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Trixy |{Mr. G. Sibbick }|2.4 | 600 | 20.0 | 3.95| 6.25| 30.0 | 8.0 | 5.0 | 5.2 | 4.0 | 2.5 | 1888 | | | |{ Ratsey }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Tottie |{Mr. Simpson }|1.75| 500 | 21.00| 4.2 | 4.6 | 29.8 | 4.5 | 4.3 | ? | ? | ? | 1888 | | | |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. |Queen Mab |{Mrs. J. B. C. West }|2.49| 619 | 24.21| 5.0 | 6.2 | 35.4 | 5.1 | 4.7 | 6.0 | 4.3 | ? | 1889 | | | |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Thief |{Mrs. G. A. Schenley }|2.45| 606 | 24.34| 4.9 | 6.2 | 35.4 | 5.1 | 4.7 | 6.0 | 4.3 | ? | 1889 | | | |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Cosette, |{Earl of Dunraven }|2.48| 609 | 24.46| 4.8 | 6.0 | 35.3 | 5.7 | 4.0 | 4.5 | 4.5 | ? | 1889 | | | C.B. |{ Watson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | G.G. |{Capt. G. W. Garrett }|2.48| 574 | 25.94| 2.9 | 2.0 | 30.8 |10.0 | 4.0 | {2.} | 3.5 | 2.1 | 1889 | | | |{ Stevens }| | | | | | | | | {7.} | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Humming |{Capt. J. W. Hughes }|2.44| 567 | 25.90| 0.75| 0.72| 27.35| 7.41| 4.2 | 6.0 | ? | ? | 1889 | | | Bird |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Cock-a- |{Lt. F. & Mr. A. C. Hughes}|2.50| 600 | 25.00| 1.25| 0.91| 27.16| 8.6 | 4.5 | 5.75| ? | ? | 1889 | | | Whoop |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Babe |{Mr. W. A. Beauclerk }|2.46| 553 | 26.76| 0.75| 1.25| 28.76| 6.7 | 4.25| 6.0 | ? | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | C. | Camilla |{Mr. G. Keele }|2.47| 563 | 26.45| 0.91| 1.16| 28.52| 7.2 | 4.0 | 4.8 | ? | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Janetta |{Mr. Newton Robinson }|2.49| 566 | 26.51| 0.92| 1.10| 28.53| 7.5 | 4.3 | 5.8 | ? | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Mliss |{Mrs. R. Read & Miss Cox} |2.50| 603 | 24.97| 1.0 | 1.25| 27.22| 7.0 | 4.5 | 5.8 | ? | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Dolphin |{Mr. A. C. Kennedy }|2.48| 581 | 25.08| 2.7 | 2.6 | 30.4 | 7.5 | 4.5 | 5.8 | 3.6 | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. |Troublesome|{Mrs. Rudston Read }|2.47| 566 | 26.3 | 4.8 | 6.2 | 37.3 | 7.3 | 5.8 | 5.8 | 5.7 | 3 | 1890 | | | |{ Soper }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Avadavat |{Mr. Wilson Hoare }|2.49| 536 | 28.00| 0.75| 1.23| 29.98| 6.5 | 4.5 | 6.4 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Fiera |{Miss Cox }|2.49| 535 | 28.00| ? | ? | ? | 6.5 | 4.5 | 6.4 | ? | altd. | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }|2.44| 536 | 27.36| 2.7 | 1.23| 31.29| | | | | | 1892 | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Squirrel |{Sir W. G. Pearce }|2.50| 578 | 25.95| ? | ? | ? | 6.5 | ? | ? | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Stone }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Undine |{Mr. E. N. Harvey }|2.49| 577 | 25.99| 2.5 | 3.2 | 30.7 | 7.2 | 4.5 | 6.0 | 3.8 | 2.3 | 1891 | | | |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Calva |{Mr. F. B. Jameson }|2.50| 565 | 26.55| 4.0 | 1.29| 31.84| 7.25| 4.0 | 6.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Cockatoo |{Lt. F. and Mr. A. C. }|2.47| 545 | 27.24| 3.66| 1.24| 32.14| 8.0 | 5.0 | 6.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Hughes }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Hoopoo |{Capt. Britten, R.N., & }|2.49| 539 | 27.83| 2.5 | 1.20| 31.53| 6.8 | 5.0 | 6.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ the Hon. G. Colville }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Papoose |{Mr. Paul Ralli }|2.50| 543 | 27.65| 3.5 | 1.25| 32.4 | 7.0 | 4.5 | 6.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Polynia |{Mr. W. S. Armitage }|2.47| 528 | 28.15| 3.7 | 1.22| 33.1 | 7.2 | 4.5 | 6.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Faugh-a- |{Mr. A. Hardie Jackson }|2.48| 542 | 27.48| 2.25| 1.16| 30.9 | 7.0 | 4.25| 6.5 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | Ballagh |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Mynah |{Lieut. F. Elwes }|2.50| 544 | 27.65| 2.25| 1.3 | 31.2 | 7.0 | 4.25| 6.5 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Molly |{Mr. Jessop }|2.41| 531 | 28.26| 3.98| 5.99| 38.23| 6.6 | ? | 6.5 | 3.7 | 2.3 | 1892 | | | |{ Nicholson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Stork, |{Capt. S. Y. H. Davenport }|2.43| 527 | 28.52| 3.66| 6.08| 38.26| 7.0 | ? |{3.7} | 3.6 | 2.2 | 1892 | | | C.B. |{ Nicholson }| | | | | | | | |{ ? } | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Gareth |{Mr. Henderson }|2.48| 533 | 28.02| 3.78| 4.9 | 36.7 | ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Nicholson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Bud |{Earl of Desart }|2.47| 534 | 28.0 | 1.8 | 2.7 | 32.5 | 7.3 | ? | 6.4 | 4.3 | 2.4 | 1892 | | | |{ Soper }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Modwen |{Mr. C. Mac Iver }|2.50| 564 | 26.69| 2.59| 5.99| 35.27| 7.33| 3.8 | 3.2 | 3.6 | 2.1 | 1892 | | | |{ Livingstone }| | | | | | | | | | | | | |----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Wenonah |{Mr. H. Allan }|2.40| 577 | 25.05| ? | ? | 37.5 | 7.5 | 3.0 | 6.1 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Herreshoff }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ 1-RATERS, 1891-92 +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----------+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | O.H. | | | | | | | | |Rig | Yacht | Owner and Designer | R. | S.A.|L.W.L.|-----+-----|L.O.A.| B. | D. |Drght.|Displ.|Ballast| When | | | | | | | |Fwrd.| Aft | | | | | cwt. | cwt. | built| +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Pup (C.B.)|{Mr. T. W. Ratsey }|0.99| 343 | 17.37| 1.46| 2.32| 21.12| 6.6 | 2.9 | {1.9}| 22 | 7.5 | 1890 | | | |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | {5.0}| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | -- | Unit |{Mr. G. F. Flemmich }|0.94| 308 | 18.40| ? | ? | ? | 5.4 | 4.0 | ? | ? | ? | 1890 | | | |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | -- | Cobweb |{Mr. B. O. Cochrane }|0.75| ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | 5.8 | 4.5 | ? | ? | ? | 1890 | | | |{ ? Designer }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Split| Cariad |{Dr. P. W. Hughes }|1.00| 285 | 21.00| ? | ? | 26.6 | 6.6 | 2.6 | ? | ? | ? | 1892 | | L. | |{ Sibbick }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Barbet |{Mr. Wilson Hoare }|0.97| 288 | 20.97| 3.05| 1.00| 24.32| 5.95| 2.5 | 4.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Argula |{Mr. H. R. Langrishe }| over rating | ? | ? | ? | 5.9 | ? | 2.6 | 34 | 15 | 1892 | | | |{ and E. K. B. Tighe }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |{ Nicholson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Nansheen |{Mr. T. C. Burrowes }|0.99| 297 | 20.24| 4.18| 3.38| 27.80| 6.6 | 2.3 | 2.5 | 30 | 17 | 1892 | | | (C.B.) |{ Fife }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Rogue |{Mr. R. Vogan }|0.99| 285 | 20.91| 5.06| 2.51| 28.48| 5.75| 2.2 | 4.5 | 21 | 13 | 1892 | | |(Bulb Keel)|{ Ridsdale }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Doushka |{Mr. P. Perceval }|0.98| 281 | 21.07| 3.1 | 1.7 | 25.87| 6.0 | 2.5 | 4.5 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | -- | Mahatma |{Mr. G. F. Flemmich }|0.99| 289 | 20.61| 2.67| 1.36| 24.64| 5.3 | 2.7 | ? | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Owner }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ 1/2-RATERS, 1890-92 +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----------+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | O.H. | | | | | | | | |Rig | Yacht | Owner and Designer | R. | S.A.|L.W.L.|-----+-----|L.O.A.| B. | D. |Drght.|Displ.|Ballast| When | | | | | | | |Fwrd.| Aft | | | | | cwt. | cwt. | built| +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Tiny |{Mr. Vogan }|0.50| 193 | 15.52| 1.25| 0.4 | 17.17| 5.0 | 2.45| 3.0 | 18 | 14 | 1890 | | | |{ Ridsdale }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Bairn |{Mr. E. F. Quilter }|0.49| 185 | 16.10| 1.65| 1.0 | 18.75| 6.1 | 1.3 | 1.3 | 14 | 4 | 1891 | | | |{ Clayton }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Coquette |{Mr. E. Jessop }|0.49| 191 | 15.58| 1.53| 1.97| 19.08| 4.5 | 3.0 | 3.0 | 15 | 9 | 1891 | | | |{ Nicholson }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Eileen |{Miss Sutton }|0.48| 185 | 15.90| 0.82| 0.61| 17.33| 4.8 | 2.7 | 3.0 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Jeanie |{Mr. Cochrane }|0.48| 182 | 15.94| 0.88| 4.51| 21.33| 5.2 | 3.0 | 2.9 | 22 | 12 | 1891 | | | |{ Fife }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Narua |{Mr. Perceval }|0.48| 183 | 15.97| 0.81| 0.58| 17.36| 5.0 | 2.8 | 3.0 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Dancing |{Mr. Hewitt }|0.50| 189 | 15.99| 1.03| 0.7 | 17.72| 4.8 | 2.4 | 3.0 | 16 | 12 | 1891 | | | Girl |{ Ridsdale }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Kittiwake |{Lt. L. C. Elwes }|0.50| 178 | 17.16| 1.25| 0.5 | 18.91| 5.0 | 2.7 | 3.0 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Dee Dee |{Mr. Paul Ralli }|0.50| 177 | 17.17| 0.25| 0.71| 19.13| 4.41| 2.7 | 3.0 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Mosquito |{Mr. Rudston Read }|0.49| 179 | 16.6 | 0.9 | 2.1 | 19.6 | 4.9 | ? | 2.9 | 20 | 6 | 1891 | | | |{ Soper }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Ladybird |{Miss Hammersley }|0.49| 176 | 17.04| 1.00| 0.4 | 18.65| 5.0 | 2.5 | 2.9 | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | L. | Spruce |{Mr. Brand }|0.41| 154 | 16.20| 0.15| 1.75| 18.1 | 5.0 | 1.5 | 0.5 | ? | nil | 1891 | |Ywl.| |{ T. L. Smith }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Ywl.| Torpedo |{Mr. Stewart }|0.5 | 170 | 17.30| ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | ? | 1891 | | | |{ ? }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Daisy |{Mr. Soper }|0.5 | 176 | 17.10| 4.23| 2.65| 23.98| 5.8 | ? | 3.3 | 15 | 7 | 1892 | | | |{ Soper }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | S. | Wee Winn |{Miss W. Sutton }|0.46| 178 | 15.61| 3.78| 4.53| 23.92| 4.8 | 1.3 | 2.9 | 8 | 3 | 1892 | | | |{ Herreshoff }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Lilliput |{The late Mr. S. Watson }|0.5 | 180 | 16.5 | 3.0 | 0.5 | 20.0 | 4.9 | 2.0 | 3.0 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |L.S.| Pique |{Miss Sutton }|0.5 | 176 | 17.0 | 3.12| 0.66| 20.78| 5.0 | 2.0 | 2.9 | ? | ? | 1892 | | | |{ Payne }| | | | | | | | | | | | | +----+-----------+---------------------------+----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+-----+-----+------+------+-------+------+ CHAPTER X FITTING OUT A FIFTY-TONNER TO GO FOREIGN BY E. F. KNIGHT There is no reason why ocean cruising should be confined to those who are fortunate enough to possess big steam yachts, or schooners of considerable tonnage. A good 50-tonner, or even a smaller craft, is probably as safe under any circumstances as the larger vessel; she can go where the latter cannot, and in many ways gives her owner better sport. When a man really fond of the sea--and he must be so to undertake the task--sets to work to fit out a 50-tonner for a lengthy voyage, to the South Atlantic for example, his method must necessarily be somewhat different from that of the owner of the large yacht. He has to rely a good deal on his own wits, for much of the work of preparation is quite out of the line of his shipwright and of the ordinary nautical tradesmen with whom he has to deal. He is not likely to employ one of the regular ocean-going skippers, who would of course know exactly what was required, and the yachtsman making ready for his first expedition of this nature is sure to do some things wrong; but he will gradually pick up many wrinkles to help him on another occasion. Such a voyage must to a great extent be an amateur business, by which I mean one to be undertaken only by a pleasure sailor of experience, accompanied by friends of like tastes; for I can imagine nothing so remote from an amusement as for a novice to sail away on a vessel of this size with a purely professional skipper and crew on whom he has to implicitly rely. He is completely at the mercy of his servants; hands who are well enough when carrying their employer about in home waters and on short foreign cruises are apt, unless they are exceptional men indeed, to take advantage of his ignorance and helplessness in many ways when the vessel is thousands of miles from home and on coasts where--and they are thoroughly well aware of this--he cannot discharge them, since it would be impossible satisfactorily to replace them. To travel in such a fashion would be productive of so much annoyance and anxiety as to sicken one for ever of the sea. With a larger vessel it is of course a different matter; a first-class skipper is engaged, the crew is carefully picked, all is properly ordered, and a discipline not altogether feasible on the small craft is maintained; and yet I have heard it whispered that discord and trouble are not always absent even from the big vessel on a lengthened cruise. There is no man I would rather have at sea with me than the honest British yachting tar of the right sort; but it is difficult to get him to ship for a long voyage on a small craft, and as a rule one has to put up with an inferior article. The owner of our roaming 50-tonner therefore, if he wish to enjoy any comfort and have an easy mind, must know sufficient to be entirely independent of his crew; and if he is not his own skipper--which he ought to be--he should at any rate be entered on the ship's papers as captain, and every man on board should sign articles under him. Should the skipper choose to leave the vessel, the owner must be capable of taking his place. The men must be made to understand that their employer can do without them; that, in case of their attempting any nonsense, he is quite prepared to put all hands on shore and ship a crew of any sort of foreigners in any port if necessary; if he cannot do this, he had far better stay on shore, or only cruise in home waters. But when once the owner has attained this absolute independence, he will find there is no more fascinating pursuit than that of navigating his little vessel across the seas from country to country, to whatsoever corner of the world he may fancy to betake himself. It is important that our cruiser should be so rigged and fitted out generally as to be capable of being handled by as small a crew as possible. Every trick of tackle, purchase, and what not that can economise labour should be taken advantage of, and it is astonishing how few men can then work a vessel. One does not do everything in recognised yachting fashion when making ocean runs; there is comparatively little work to do, and the large crew that is required on the Channel cruise is not necessary on the long voyage. For several good reasons the owner should keep his crew as small as is compatible with the safety of the vessel. Crowding is thus avoided, a matter of moment when one is sailing the tropical seas; for there the confinement of several men on a small yacht is unhealthy for them, despite all arrangements that may be made for their comfort. When the mouths are few, it will be easier to carry a sufficiency of supplies, and the question of water, more especially, will not be so difficult to deal with; it will moreover be a much less troublesome business to get one's complement of men made up in a foreign port in the event of desertion or dismissal. It must be remembered that the owner is very likely to have a few disturbances and to get rid of some of his men in the course of such a cruise. It would be strange if it were otherwise. It is a monotonous life for the hands cooped up in the small vessel. If they have no other reason for becoming discontented, they will do so merely because they have too much to eat and too little to do; there will be dissensions; each man will reveal what bad qualities he may possess; there may be that fearful thing a sea lawyer on board, but he should not be permitted to stay long. This period of trouble, however, will probably be only of short duration--else such a cruise would be a purgatory; the worthless are weeded out, others are shipped; and it is a man's own fault if he has not soon gathered around him a compact if miscellaneous crew, willing, cheery, ready to go anywhere he may choose to take them. It is my opinion that there should not be a single yacht sailor on board the foreign-cruising 50-tonner. It is difficult, as I have said, to get the right ones, and it will be bad for the owner if he fall in with the wrong ones--men who have been spoilt by foolish employers, for instance; a numerous class, I fear. We all know them. Smart-looking fellows enough may-be, but shirkers of honest work, they prefer to ship on show yachts belonging to owners who like to exhibit themselves and their vessels in the fashionable yachting ports each season, but who are not sailors in any sense of the word, and have no real love of the sport, following it only for the swagger of the thing. Men who have served such owners would prove a great nuisance on an ocean cruise, and would not be likely to go far. I have heard such hands grumbling on a friend's yacht because they were to pass one night at sea instead of in some port where they happened to have friends. They look to frequent tips from the 'governor's' visitors, and to other less legitimate perquisites; these they cannot get in mid-Atlantic, so it is not the place for them. Hands from fishing-boats, sailing barges, and small coasters are the best men for the foreign cruiser of small tonnage. Among these one is not likely to come across spoilt and pampered mariners, and they are accustomed to roughing it, and to the shifts of short-handed craft. But were I undertaking a lengthened tropical voyage, I think I should ship my English crew simply for the run over to my first West Indian or South American port, and there engage a negro crew. These blacks are excellent fore-and-aft sailors, easy to manage, and always happy and ready for any amount of hard work if kindly but firmly treated; while they are, of course, far better fitted than white men to withstand the debilitating influence of sultry climates, an influence which, as everyone knows, has caused the ruin of many a good British sailor, driving hitherto sober men to injure their health by excess whenever they get shore leave. And now for our vessel, of what sort should she be? She must, of course, be of fair beam. We are beginning to believe in beam again, and are returning to the wisdom of our ancestors, recognising the fact that beam is not incompatible with speed, whilst it is indispensable for comfort both on deck and below on an ocean cruise. I remember, when we sailed away in the 'Falcon' to South America twelve years ago, yachting men shook their heads at our beam; I was assured that I should never get more than six knots an hour out of such a tubby craft, more especially as she was snugly sparred and could fly so little canvas. She had a length of 42 feet to a beam of 13 feet. As it turned out, we often got nine knots out of her, and made one voyage of 2,000 nautical miles in ten days, the current, it must be said, being favourable to us on this occasion. But the proportionate beaminess of the 'Falcon' is not necessary for the bigger craft, and the beam of our 50-tonner should be about a quarter of her length. When choosing my vessel I should prefer, for other reasons than economy, to buy an old one that had been well cared for to building or purchasing a new one. Tropical climates soon develop defects in wood, and though it may be impossible to detect any flaws or signs of early decay in a new vessel, the timber of which she is constructed may have been put in sappy, and she may be ready to break out into dry rot on the slightest provocation. Tough old human beings who have weathered the ailments of youth are not likely to fall into consumption, and so it is with the ship. If she has knocked about for years and shown no symptoms of decay, then she has proved herself to have been put together of the right stuff, and she will remain sound in her good old age. If one came across some old teak vessel, such as my 'Alerte' was, a quarter of a century old, constructed by a good builder in the strong, honest fashion of those days, not put together in a hurry, but leisurely; with not a plank in her that was not well seasoned and selected, and that had not been lying in the builder's loft for a year before it was used, and with timbers and deadwood stouter than are employed now, and if, after careful examination, she proved from stem to stern, from deck to keel, as sound as when she was put on the stocks, even in those treacherous and usually ill-ventilated corners inside the counter, then that vessel is the one to be possessed of by the man who would go foreign; for she can be more safely trusted than many a brand-new craft, scamped, pleasing to the eye, but of unsound constitution, like some fair pulmonary with the germs of disease latent in her bones. The 'Alerte' was a vessel of this good old sort--I say was, for after I had left her, this yawl, which properly cared for would have completed her century of cruising, was lost by a piece of wicked negligence off the West Indian island of Trinidad, and is now lying at the bottom in one hundred fathoms of water. A yawl is the favourite rig for the cruising 50-tonner; personally, I should prefer a ketch, the easiest vessel afloat to handle. A 50-ton ketch requires a very small crew indeed; a couple of men on deck can tackle any job that turns up. But a yawl is nearly as handy as the ketch. Two of us used to knock about for days at a time on the 'Alerte' in the South Atlantic, and she was a 56-ton yawl, with somewhat heavy spars. We never had any difficulty with her; but when we were short-handed, we used to employ 'un-yachty' methods. We could only hoist our mainsail by using our mast-winch, which we also employed for hauling out the reefing tackle when shortening sail. There are many little dodges that soon occur to a sailor, and I have no doubt that if one man who knew what he was about were left alone in mid ocean on such a vessel, he would have little difficulty in taking her into port. There should, of course, be a good supply of sails on board, not omitting a stout storm trysail and a handy spinnaker. The latter should have a boom short enough to pass under the forestay when topped up, so that it has not to be unshipped for a gybe. Such a spinnaker will be more effective than a big one on an ocean cruise. It can be carried when the wind is strong and the sea high--an important matter; for how often one has seen a fore-and-after, that has been rolling gunwales under when running under mainsail and head-sail alone, skim along steadily with dry decks as soon as the little spinnaker is put on her to balance the other canvas? When we left England with the 'Alerte,' we had with us her racing spinnaker only. We soon discovered we had made a mistake. Short-handed as we were, we often refrained from using it when it would have been of service; for the unshipping of its mighty boom was a heavy bit of work. Then we had a small boom made, and used the balloon-foresail as the working spinnaker. One man could handle this, and it was seldom allowed to lie idle when the breeze was aft. It is better thus to provide oneself with a sail that can serve both as balloon-foresail and spinnaker, according to how the wind may be, than to encumber oneself with a large square-sail, such as yachts were wont to carry, and such as one still sees on revenue cutters.[17] But there is a square-sail of another sort that should be found in the sail-locker of every little foreign cruiser; this is the small stout storm square-sail, a sail which would be seldom used, it is true, but which, on certain occasions, would prove of inestimable advantage. [Footnote 17: The 'Navahoe,' before returning to America, ordered a square-sail from Tilley, of Southampton.] With the 'Falcon' we once ran on before a favourable gale till the gale became a hurricane--a River Plate pampero--and then the sea was dangerously high, so that we were unable to do what should have been done hours before; that is, bring her up into the wind and heave to. Not daring to attempt this now, we had to make the best of the position, and run on under trysail and storm jib. The steering was a most difficult and anxious matter; there was considerable danger of broaching to, and our lives depended upon the watchful skill of the helmsman. The trysail had no boom, and was ever violently gybing, while so low was the body of the sail that it lost the wind when we were in the trough of those great seas. Now that was the very time when we needed the little storm square-sail. Under that snug bit of canvas the vessel would have steered with far greater ease and safety; there would have been no risk of a gybe; the tendency to broach to would have been much lessened, and a topsail of this sort, moreover, is, like a jib, a lifting sail, and helps to keep a vessel afloat. Hoisted well up, as it should be, right under the forestay, it is high enough to catch the wind between the seas. If the owner does not carry a storm square-sail, he should have a boom to his trysail. When the yachtsman, having purchased his 50-tonner, begins to fit her out for the ocean cruise, he is certain to discover that he will have to make considerable alterations in the arrangement of her ballast. The vessel that hitherto has been cruising in home waters only is sure to have a great deal more ballast in her than is necessary or advisable for his purpose. In the first place, when on a long voyage, he is not going to crack on as if he were racing for a cup. He will most probably have reduced his vessel's spars before starting, and has no ambition, when he is on the ocean for weeks at a stretch, to carry the huge spread of canvas under which his craft was wont to stagger in the Solent. The ocean rover, who loves blue water for its own sake, is a quiet plodding sort of person, in no extreme hurry to reach his port. He wishes to be as comfortable and free from anxiety as possible, and, like the master of an East Indiaman of the olden time, is more likely than not to make things snug each sunset and take in his kites--the big topsail for example--as he does not approve of the watch below having to be summoned on deck at each squall. So our foreign cruiser, snugly sparred and moderately canvased, need not be nearly so stiff as when she used to fly up and down the Channel, straining and quivering as if acutely jealous lest any other craft should outstrip her; and she can now be relieved of a considerable portion of her ballast. It is of such importance that the 50-tonner should be light and buoyant, so that she may leap over the Atlantic storm waves and not plunge into their curling crests, that I think the less ballast one can do with the better. I lay stress on this, because I know that the usual wiseacres and others, who frequent the shipwright's yard to proffer all manner of advice to the yachtsman while he is preparing for his voyage, will shake their heads if he speaks of lightening his craft to the extent I should advocate, and warn him that a perilous crankiness will be the result. There is, of course, a limit to this lightening process which must not be overstepped; but that limit--at any rate so far as my practice is concerned--does not, as a rule, find favour in the eyes of the forementioned advisers. If the vessel be ballasted with lead when she comes into one's possession, the weight can be reduced to the exact amount that is required by selling a sufficient quantity of the lead and substituting the same bulk of iron, the specific gravity of one metal to the other being roughly as 11 to 7. A spare chain, spare anchors, and any iron implements not liable to be damaged by damp, can with advantage be employed as ballast in this way, but must, of course, be stowed so that they can be got at without difficulty. Whilst adjusting the ballast it is necessary to remember that, unlike the coasting yacht, the ocean cruiser will have to be laden with a considerable quantity of water and other stores--probably some six tons weight of these. The question of what boats should be carried on the ocean-going 50-tonner is one to be considered carefully. The ordinary yacht's gig, that does very well to land passengers in Channel ports, is not adapted for our purpose; she would be cumbersome, occupying too much room on deck, and, most probably, would not be a sufficiently good sea-boat. A shorter dinghy of lifeboat shape, with plenty of sheer and a pointed stern, will be found much more serviceable, especially if one has to effect a landing on small oceanic islands or at other exposed spots where access is rendered difficult by heavy surf. The boat should be beamy and rather shallow; for if she is too deep she is likely, while lying on deck, to get very much in the way of the main boom, which will have to be topped up to an awkward height to clear her; or, worse still, she may even make it impossible for the main boom to be swung sufficiently forward when the vessel is running before the wind--a terrible nuisance on which it is unnecessary to dilate. I believe one of the principal reasons why the revenue cutters carry their large square-sails is that they could not otherwise get any speed out of them before a fair wind, to such an extent do their boats cramp the boom and prevent the easing off of the mainsheet. In my opinion one cannot do better than carry a medium-sized Berthon collapsible in addition to one's big dinghy. A Berthon occupies very little room, and is so easily dropped into the water and hoisted on board again that she is sure to be used on many occasions when one would not take the trouble to put the heavier boat out. I was once shipmate with a delightful Berthon which had an iron centreboard and a balance lugsail. We gave her plenty of work in every port, creek, or river we entered; for she sailed admirably, and was one of the handiest little craft possible. She contributed a great deal to our enjoyment of the cruise. A few remarks on that most important subject, the commissariat, may not be amiss. When fitting an ocean-going 50-tonner for the first time, one asks oneself with considerable misgiving how it will be possible to find room for all the necessary stores. I remember coming down to the 'Falcon' one morning, when we were getting her ready for her South Atlantic voyage, to find the quay, alongside which she lay, covered with barrels, sacks, cases, &c., the provisions for five men for nine months, which I had ordered from London. I stood aghast before this mighty mass, the bulk of which appeared to exceed by far the capacity of my vessel's hold; but it is wonderful what an amount of stowage room there is in the lockers and corners of a beamy vessel; however much is put into her, there seems to be place for more. I was much relieved in my mind to get my tons of stores snugly stowed out of sight, and all below the water-line too, so serving as good ballast. On the 'Alerte' we found no difficulty in carrying nearly a year's supply of provisions for thirteen hands. As for water, extra tanks will have to be fitted up in all convenient places. On the 'Alerte' we had a gallon tank under the saloon table, while the cabin fireplace was removed and a large tank was built into the space thus gained. We carried 600 gallons in all, which ought to suffice for the longest run one is likely to make, allowing for calms in the doldrums and unforeseen delays. All the drinking water should be in tanks below. To carry any weight of water in casks on deck is a mistake for various reasons; but of course it is well to have some breakers on deck to hold any rain-water that may be caught on the voyage. It is my firm opinion that one should carry plenty of good salt meat when bound on a long cruise, and rely as little as possible on tinned provisions. The temperature is very high on small vessels in the tropics, and this does undoubtedly in time set up some sort of chemical change in tinned meat--a change which, though it may not be perceptible to the senses, can be productive of much ill health. The salt meat should be of the right sort too. It is not advisable to go, as I myself once did, to even the best of butchers in a seaport town and have fresh meat salted down. This is excellent at first, but it will not keep long on the small vessel. It is far better to procure the older, much-travelled, well-tested salt meat, less tasty though it be. The good firms of purveyors empty the cask, examine each piece of beef, and repickle it, before sending it on board; such beef will keep through the longest voyage and in any climate. It is certain that no sort of food will remain sweet and wholesome so long on a small as on a big craft. It is amongst other things essential to have the supply of biscuit divided into a number of hermetically sealed tins. The best made bread locker will not prevent maggots, weevils, and other loathsome insects from swarming among the biscuit as soon as the 50-tonner reaches the tropics, and the better the quality of the biscuit the more rapid and complete will be the spoiling of it. It must not be forgotten that tinned ship's bread can only be procured in England, so a sufficient supply must be laid in before one sails. This brings me to another point. It is not only advisable to take from England all the biscuit wanted, but also, if possible, all the tinned meats and suchlike stores. If more be needed in the course of the voyage, it should be sent out from England and transshipped. In the ports of the West Indies, of the Indian Ocean, or indeed on any tropical coast, though one may come across honest ship-chandlers--I have frequently been lucky enough to do so myself--it will be found that, even with them, prices are apt to be exorbitant; while their goods are often of inferior quality, or, when of good brands, old and damaged. With the dishonest ship-chandlers, who are not rare, one is likely to have still worse experiences. Were I again to fit out a yacht for a lengthy cruise, I should take everything of this sort with me, or make arrangements with a good English firm to send me out relays of supplies to certain places at which it was my intention to call. I should only rely on the ports for fresh meat, vegetables, fruit and suchlike perishable commodities. Neither should one go to the ship-chandler of the foreign harbour for rope, blocks, canvas, or boatswain's necessaries of any description. Provision should be carefully made against running short of these; plenty and to spare should be taken from home. On an English 50-ton yacht it is usual to carry on all the cooking in the forecastle; but when the vessel is on tropical seas it is very uncomfortable for the hands forward to have a fire burning for the greater part of the day in their close quarters. On the 'Alerte' the fire was only lit once a day in order to cook the dinner, a large spirit stove being employed for the preparation of breakfast and tea, to boil water, and so forth. A good spirit stove is indispensable on our 50-tonner. On the 'Falcon' we used even to cook our dinner with one. Spirits-of-wine is among the few things that can always be got of satisfactory quality and at moderate cost in every foreign port. I have never found difficulty in procuring this in any part of the world, and as a rule considerably cheaper than methylated spirits in England. I have always preferred a spirit to a paraffin stove. I have never come across a sea cook yet who could deal satisfactorily with the latter. The lampblack is apt to make a terrible mess of the pots and pans and everything else, including the sea cook. I know that, if the lamp is properly trimmed and the stove is carefully looked after, this should not happen. But somehow or other it generally does happen; consequently paraffin is not suitable fuel for the sea-going stove, and the cleanly alcohol, though a little more expensive, is far better for the purpose. On plenty of smart West Indian and other foreign sloops and schooners of about the size of our 50-tonners, it is customary to do all the cooking on deck; and I do not see why this method should not be adopted on our small ocean-going yacht when she is at sea in fine weather or lying at anchor. A tiny temporary galley or fireplace--very 'un-yachty,' it must be confessed--might be fitted up on deck forward, and if the cook be a West Indian negro of the right sort, he will probably be found as clever as an Indian 'bobbachee' on the march at turning out a capital meal without the aid of cumbersome stove or oven--and that, too, without making any mess whatever, so that the skipper need feel no anxiety for his spotless deck and sails. [Illustration: The Drogue, off the Kullen Head.] CHAPTER XI BALTIC CRUISING BY E. F. KNIGHT A few English sailing yachts visit the Baltic every year, but that wind-swept sea can scarcely be termed one of the favourite cruising grounds of our pleasure fleet. This is not altogether strange; for the voyage is a long and rough one round the Skaw into the squally Cattegat; chilly gales and choppy seas in many summers form the rule rather than the exception among the Danish Islands, and the principal seaports of the inland sea are singularly dull and uninteresting. Nevertheless--and the reader will soon understand that what I am about to say is in no wise inconsistent with my opening sentence--I am confident that the yachtsman who undertakes a summer's cruise on the Baltic in a _small_ vessel will afterwards remember it as one of his very pleasantest experiences. This is a sea which is often coldly repelling to the cursory traveller, but it is strangely fascinating to him who takes the trouble to explore it, and the charm of it increases with further knowledge. How interesting, to begin with, is the voyage out! For, with the small vessel I am speaking of, the yachtsman does not double the stormy Skaw, but sails in and out along all the winding coasts that were the cradle of our race, the lands of the Frisians, Saxons, Jutes, Angles, and Danes. Having waited for a slant in one of our Eastern ports--Harwich, for example--he crosses the North Sea to a Dutch harbour, follows the shores of the Zuider Zee, picks his way up the narrow channels that divide the sandy Frisian Islands from the mainland, enters the river Eider, and passes up the ship canal to Kiel. And that port once reached, what possibilities of glorious cruising are before him! He has now left behind the discoloured waves of the North Sea, and his keel is cleaving water so limpid that every stone and weed is visible fathoms beneath. He can sail up narrow sounds between park-like glades and forests of pines and magnificent oaks and beeches; or up long winding fiords which take him beyond the coast belt of forest and pasture, and past the undulating corn lands, into the very heart of the Cimbrian peninsula, where the desolate moorlands of the Ahl, grand in their northern savagery, spread far on either side of the sinuous creek. There is the long Slie, a succession of lakes and narrows that leads to old Schleswig; there are the deep inlets of Flensborg, Apenrade, Veile, and many-islanded Liim; Ise Fiord, perhaps the fairest of all, with its promontories of noble forest; the lovely sounds of Svendborg and the Little Belt; and a score of other straits and lochs that make this in many respects the finest cruising ground in Europe. I do not know where else, when the sun shines out between the rain squalls, the sea appears so blue, the grass and the foliage seem so green and luxuriant, as in this land of Denmark. It is pleasant to sail, as one often does, suddenly out of the choppy windy open Baltic into the shelter of these narrows, where the great trees dip their branches into the smooth water, where one comes upon scene after scene of tender and restful beauty, and where the traveller knows, too, that whenever he may choose to land, at some trim village or opposite some snug old farmhouse, he is sure of a welcome from the kindly people. Then, if the yachtsman wishes for more open water, he can sail out of the fiord mouth and steer for one of the many delightful little islands that stud the Baltic. Remote many of them are, set in the middle of that treacherous sea, inhabited by a few primitive fishermen. The advent of a stranger is rare in the extreme. I spent two summers in these waters, and found that no British yacht had ever come before to most of the fiords and islets I explored. For it happens that nearly all the charms I speak of are lost to him who sails these waters in a big vessel. It is a coasting voyage in a small craft I am advocating here. Of the fiords that penetrate the Cimbrian peninsula and the larger islands, only a few are available for a yacht of deep draught, and in order to visit some of the most beautiful of the inland waters one's vessel should not draw more than two feet. Again, though harbours that will admit coasters of even light tonnage are far apart on much of the iron-bound coast of the Baltic, there are to be found everywhere, at short intervals, little artificial havens that have been built for the accommodation of the craft of the herring fishermen; while the only shelter afforded by many of the islets consists of similar havens, frequented solely by the fishing and ferry boats. At the entrance of most of these miniature harbours there is a depth of about four feet of water at high tide. Now bad weather springs up frequently and with wonderful suddenness in the Baltic, and a dangerous sea soon rises on those shallow waters. It is therefore of great advantage to have a boat of so light a draught as to be able to run for refuge into any of these little havens. Such a craft has nearly always a snug port not far under her lee while coasting here; whereas a larger craft can find no harbour for many leagues, and has to make the best she can of it on the open sea. The shallow boat is the safest for such a cruise, besides being the only one with which the most interesting inlets and islets can be visited. She must be small, but at the same time she must be as good a sea-boat as is possible for her size; for she is not likely to escape bad weather altogether on the Baltic. [Illustration: Danske fishing-boat and anchor.] To some it may appear foolhardy to go so far on a small yacht like the one I am speaking of; but as a matter of fact it will be found that it is nearly always the cautious sailor and not the reckless one who succeeds in sailing his little vessel to distant shores. The imprudent and thoughtless man soon encounters such experiences, soon gets into such scrapes, on attempting a foreign cruise as will keep him for the future in the home waters he happens to know something about. A voyage from England to the uttermost ends of the Baltic does not necessitate any really long runs for a yacht of small draught, and it is seldom that one need remain out at sea at night. It is well that it is so; for these are surely the most wind-vexed waters of Europe; violent north-westers rise in the most unexpected manner, and the stillest of summer mornings will as likely as not be succeeded by a howling wintry afternoon. It behoves the skipper of the small yacht to watch his weather very carefully in this treacherous region. Whenever a run of some distance is before him, from isle to isle, or along some portion of the coast where the havens of refuge are rare, he must patiently wait for a slant, and the advice of the aneroid in the cabin must be implicitly followed. It is this last precaution that makes what otherwise would certainly be a dangerous cruise for a small craft an amusement less risky than are the majority of sports. It ought to be unnecessary to repeat such trite admonition as this; but in my experience it is the skipper of the small vessel who pays the least attention to his glass; and in all cases that have come under my notice when small yachts that have started to cross the North Sea or the Channel, or to make some other run of a dozen hours or so, have come to grief in any way in consequence of having encountered weather dangerously heavy for them, it is for the one reason that the skipper, possibly an excellent sailor in other respects, has neglected his aneroid. One may indeed make occasional runs in this blind fashion, trusting to the appearance of the sky alone, and yet no harm come of it; but on the sort of Baltic cruise I am describing there will, of course, be a number of such short runs; short, but quite long enough to make disaster a probability sooner or later if proper precautions be not taken, and it may be found that the pitcher has gone to the well once too often. The life of the man who undertakes long coasting voyages in small craft depends more on his knowledge of the use of the barometer, and on his close observation of it, than it does on his good seamanship. A man I know had his dinghy carried away, and nearly lost his little yacht and his life, on a run from Ryde to Havre. The longshore wiseacres shook their heads when they heard of it, and spoke of the foolhardiness of sailing across Channel in so tiny a vessel. In this I maintain the wiseacres were wrong; the foolhardiness lay in the skipper's blinking at the heavens to windward and lee, and putting absolute faith in their deceptive appearance, while he entirely omitted to see what the glass was doing before he tripped his anchor. It is possible to practically insure for oneself fine weather, or at any rate the absence of dangerously bad weather, for a run of say a day and night, provided one have the patience to wait for it. [Illustration: Roskilde from the Fiord.] I cannot recall an instance of having experienced really bad weather when my reading of the barometer had told me that it would be fine; but I have seen the weather-wisdom of many an old sea-dog at fault. In the Baltic the fishermen fail signally to read the signs of their own skies, as the following incident will show. I had sailed into a fishing-haven on Zeeland called Gillelie. I found a fête in progress which had detained the fishermen who would otherwise have sailed on that day to the distant island of Anholt for the autumn herring fishery. 'But we will all be off to-morrow,' said one to me. 'I do not think any of you will sail to-morrow or the day after; it will be blowing a gale of wind from the north-west,' I remarked, for my glass had been falling in most ominous fashion for some days. But my friends thought they knew better. 'You are a stranger here,' said they; 'we fishing-folk know the signs of the sky in our country. The wind is south-west, and it will remain fine. The barometer is not to be trusted in the Baltic.' Well, at midnight the wind had shifted to north-west, and was howling through the bending pines; by dawn the gale had burst upon us, for two days it blew a very hurricane, and there was much loss of life and shipping on the Cattegat. Had it not been for the fête the fishermen would have put to sea, and few would ever have been seen again. I converted the fishermen of Gillelie to a belief in the barometer, and I believe that they forthwith applied to the Danish Government for one of those glasses which it supplies to seaports for the public use. Having given my reasons for recommending a small vessel of light draught for Baltic cruising, I will now explain what I consider that vessel should be like. I am about to preach rank heresy, but I should certainly act up to my preaching were I ever again to make preparations for a similar voyage. The craft that last carried me about those seas was an old teak P. & O. lifeboat, 29 feet in length, which had been decked, rigged as a ketch, provided with six inches of false keel, and so converted into a yacht of three tons register. A boat something like this one appears to me to be the best adapted for the purpose in question--a boat with pointed stern and considerable sheer, such as my lifeboat was, and such, too, as are the herring fishing boats of the Cattegat. Her beam should be about one-quarter of her length, her draught should not exceed 2 ft. 6 in., and she should have less ballast by a good deal than is generally put into a boat of her tonnage; for she must be comfortable when in rough water, be light and lively, and leap over the steep seas of the Baltic instead of driving herself through them. My old lifeboat was the best sea-boat of her size I have ever come across. Once I was caught with her in a north-wester in the Gulf of Heligoland, and had to run to Cuxhaven before a really heavy sea. That little boat acquitted herself in a way that astonished us; presenting as she did a sharp stern to the steep following seas, she showed no tendency to broach to, but steered with beautiful ease, rising like a duck to every roller. Why more of our little cruisers are not constructed with these lifeboat sterns I could never understand. Anyone who has run before a high breaking sea in both styles of craft will appreciate the enormous difference between the behaviour of the long-countered vessel and the one with the pointed stern. The latter is undoubtedly the boat for comfort and safety in a sea-way. [Illustration: A Danske craft.] In such a boat as I am describing one could sail, single-handed, if one was so minded, to Finland or to the furthest depths of the Gulf of Bothnia, and run less risk than one would in most vessels four times her size. We have now got a good sea-boat almost as safe as a lifeboat--but the next question is, how will she sail? A double-ended craft like the one I am speaking of will run or reach as well as anything of her size; but, being of such light draught, though she will turn to windward well enough, maybe, in smooth water, she will be a very slow boat, making scarcely any headway, but considerable leeway, when she encounters the tumbling waters of the Zuider Zee or Baltic on a breezy day. This, of course, must be remedied by some means; for we cannot always have fair winds and smooth waters. And now I am coming to my greatest heresy--I would not make a hole in the bottom of my boat and pass the orthodox centreboard through it; but I should sling on either side of her the heterodox leeboard. In this country we are not accustomed to see leeboards on pleasure craft, and they are considered to be ugly. In Holland, where they also know something about small yachts, elegant polished oak brass-bound leeboards are invariably attached to the brightly polished little oaken vessel. One soon comes to consider a leeboard as an ornament. The appearance of a long double-ended boat is distinctly improved by these wing-like appendages. Finding that my lifeboat was so unsatisfactory on a wind, I got a Dutch shipwright at Harlingen to fit two shapely oaken leeboards upon her, which suited her well, for she herself was of polished teak. I remember that when her leeboards were once temporarily removed we felt quite ashamed of her, so lank and naked did she appear in our eyes. But the leeboards were still more useful than they were beautiful. When I put out with them into the choppy Zuider Zee I was astounded at the success of my plan. The vessel turned to windward as she had never done before, and I soon came to the conclusion that I had almost arrived at the ideal of a shallow-water cruiser. Leeboards have many undoubted advantages over centreboards. To make a long hole through the bottom of a boat cannot but weaken her. The trunk of a centreboard is ever in the way in a small cabin. In rough water a centreboard must strain a boat more than a leeboard does. On a little vessel like the one in question the leeboards are not cumbersome, but can be readily unshipped and stowed on deck or below when there is a leading wind, or when one is hove-to in bad weather, or rolling about at anchor. And, most important of all, if the boat runs ashore, the leeboards will come gently up, whereas a centre-plate may become jammed, and so bend or break. A leeboard never refuses to be hauled up or dropped down. [Illustration: A good craft for the Baltic.] In many of the shallow Baltic fiords one is apt to run ashore pretty frequently, and sometimes on rough ground that would subject a boat to severe strain unless the centreboard were pulled up very smartly. Again, some portions of these fiords in summer present the appearance of green fields, so thickly are they overgrown with weeds whose branches float on the surface of the brackish water. It is impossible to bring a centreboard boat into this tangle. The weeds gather round the plate, choke the trunk, and cannot be cleared in many cases until the boat has been hauled up on dry land. But leeboards can be lifted and cleared in a moment, and the boat provided with them can sail over meadows of aquatic growth that would effectually bar the approach of the orthodox yacht. To reach the inland _brednings_ or 'broads' of the Baltic, far larger and as fair as those of Norfolk, one must often pass through these weedy passages, and this is not one of the least of my reasons for advocating the leeboard. I should like to see leeboards more employed in this country. I remember as a small boy coming into possession of my first boat, some old ship's dinghy. I put sails in her, but, to my disgust, not a bit would she turn to windward. I tried to fix a false keel on her, but my appliances were few, and I was unsuccessful. Now, had I known of the simple expedient of the leeboard, limited as was my carpentering skill, I should have had no trouble in making my boat tack. The pleasure of sailing was thus denied to me for several years afterwards, and all through my ignorance of the leeboard. There must be plenty of boys at the present time in similar plight, in parts of the Far West for instance, where, as I discovered the other day, the very name of leeboard is unknown. In an hour or so anyone can convert almost anything that will float into something that will sail by means of leeboards; and this is a fact well worth knowing when one finds oneself in some wild corner of the earth and wishes to extemporise a sailing-craft. I have done something of the sort on more than one occasion. Once I was living by the shores of a lake in Florida. I started at short notice for a fortnight's cruise inside the keys that line the coast of the Gulf of Mexico above Tampa. Nothing else being procurable, I borrowed one of the canoes of the country, a flat-bottomed punt with no more lines than a horse-trough. I manufactured a sail, and one leeboard which I could throw over from one side to the other according to the tack I was on; and away I went with rod and gun down the shallow passes, up winding bayous and across broad lakes; a delightful little cruise; and my strange craft, to the astonishment of the crackers, sailed like a witch. It was the very coast for a leeboard; for the channels between the keys and the mainland are often very shallow--so shallow, indeed, that when the tempestuous north wind blew and the rising waves poured into my vessel, so that she would soon have filled and settled to the bottom, I was sometimes enabled to lighten her, and so save her, by stepping overboard; and then I would walk ahead of her, painter in hand, and tow her against wind and sea until the weather moderated--a manoeuvre that can be recommended under such circumstances. [Illustration: Towing head to wind.] To return to our little Baltic cruiser--I have only given the broad features of what I consider to be the most fitting craft. As for the details of rig, cabin arrangements, and so forth, each man knows best what he requires. But were I having such a boat made ready for myself, she should be built of oak. Her sides and leeboard should not be painted, but be varnished and kept brightly polished after the Dutch fashion--boiled oil and rosin is the mixture for the purpose. She should have a small well. There should be the usual hatch on the cabin-roof to slide back and facilitate entrance to the cabin; but, instead of the usual cabin-doors, I should have a water-tight bulkhead between the well and cabin, with only a small square opening at the top, which could be closed with a sliding shutter when necessary. The cabin would then be kept snug and dry. It is, of course, the right thing for the skipper of a small vessel to run for a port when bad weather is coming on; but this cannot always be done, and it is by far the wiser policy to remain on the open sea and make the best of it than to rush blindly before the gale towards a harbour whose dangers and difficulties are unknown to one. I remember once being with some men who, because the sea was rather ugly, were very anxious to run into a most dangerous river mouth, to the almost certain perdition of our vessel. This was the suggestion of panic, but they called it prudence. Some small vessels, even though they be rather shallow, like the one I am speaking of, can claw off a lee shore in pretty heavy weather. Unless one have the misfortune to be embayed, there is generally one tack on which the boat can keep off the land--despite the leeway--well snugged down, with as little head-sail as possible on her, and forging slowly ahead all the time. But on such occasions there must be a good man at the tiller. Mr. ----, the most skilful sailor of small craft we have ever had, who used to knock about single-handed in all sorts of weather, and who, it will be remembered, at last died alone of heart-disease on his vessel in mid-channel--a fitting death for such a man--made it a rule to beat to sea instead of running for a port on the appearance of bad weather. He proved what can be done with a tiny yacht properly handled. But then he was a consummate seaman--so much so, indeed, that those who knew him affirm that no other man than he could have performed some of his exploits. A little vessel may be blown away from the land, or have plenty of sea-room to leeward when the storm attacks her. Then it is not so difficult to know and to do the right thing. If the craft be such as I am imagining her to be, she should be able to ride out almost any weather with drogue out, and possibly a bit of trysail or mizzen set, sheeted well amidships. Every small yacht should be provided with one of these drogues or sea-anchors when a long cruise is to be undertaken. I have never seen one employed; but I was in the habit of carrying one, which consisted of an iron ring some 3 feet broad, to which was bent a stout canvas bag with a pointed end. A bridle was attached to the ring by which it could be made fast to a 20-fathom grass-rope. A very good drogue, which serves as a breakwater as well, can be extemporised with a spar. If one side of a small strong jib be bent on the spar, and a weight be attached to the lower corner of the jib, this ought to form a very efficient drag. [Illustration: Sketch.] To sum up--for cruising on the charming inland waters of the Baltic, and for getting about from one part of that sea to another, the most fitting craft is, I believe, such a one as I have sketched out, sharp-sterned, with ample freeboard, with good sheer, of shallow draught, lightly ballasted, and provided with leeboards. With a boat constructed on these lines, a man who neglects not his aneroid should be able to make a very delightful voyage along the coasts of our Viking ancestors, and very much further from home, too, if he wishes it; while she would also be found a capital craft for sailing about the mouth of the Thames, the Norfolk Broads, and Dutch waters. But at Cowes they might stare at her with the eye of prejudice. CHAPTER XII FIVE-TONNERS AND FIVE-RATERS IN THE NORTH BY G. L. BLAKE A few years ago a great sportsman, whose privilege it had been to take an active part in nearly every form of sport known to the British Isles, was asked which of them all he thought should be placed at the head of the list as being most conducive to make its follower manly, and at the same time least open to the criticism of those who are always inclined to find fault with their neighbours' methods of employing their spare time. There was some little hesitation before he gave an answer, but at length he expressed an opinion that yachting excelled all others. To enumerate a few of his reasons will not be out of place here. The first and foremost was the utter absence of any possibility of cruelty, as calls could only be made on inanimate materials and the yachtsmen themselves. Then it was quite out of the question for a man to be a thorough yachtsman without courage and endurance being brought into play. Quickness of action, or the ability to think and act at the same time, was also a necessity in yachting, as it was in most other sports; but it was an absolute one here, because the elements were an unknown force, and sudden contingencies, not to be equalled in intensity or severity by any possible emergency ashore, had frequently to be faced. This quality--quickness of resource--was, of all others, the characteristic of the sailor. Two more points were added, which certainly tend to place yachting, and yacht racing especially, in the fore rank of sports. The first was that yacht racing and cruising are carried on by those who enter upon them, not in any way as a business, but solely for the love of the sea. The prizes, such as they are, when bestowed in money are so small in comparison with the outlay and cost in building and sailing a racing crack, that in most of the recognised classes they only go a very little way towards lessening the general expenditure, whilst as for betting on the races, such a thing was rare in the extreme. The last argument was that 'unfair sailing' was a thing almost, if not quite, unknown, and if there was an argument in favour of extra money for yachts' crews on racing days, it was that it helped to encourage all hands to do their utmost to make their vessels, let the look-out be ever so bad, come in and win. To one desirous not only of enjoying the sport, but also of really understanding every detail connected with it, from splicing, knotting, sail-making, varnishing, painting, cleaning brasswork, setting, taking in, reefing or shifting sail, to steering a clean full-and-bye against a head-sea, or learning to make himself comfortable on the smallest possible fit-out, an old yachtsman's advice is, the smaller the boat chosen to begin with the better; and after a quarter of a century's experience of small yachts in all weathers, seas, and climates, he believes the vessel of about 30 feet in length, with a moderate beam and draught of water, is the smallest capable of keeping the sea with any degree of comfort and safety. There are no more suitable yachts of the size referred to than those built under the old Thames Rule of Measurement, or the late Rule of the Yacht Racing Association, to sail in the class for yachts of 5 tons and under. A restriction might be added to the exclusion of such yachts as were the extreme outcome of the rule; but as only three were built--one designed by Mr. G. L. Watson and the late Mr. Payton's two vessels, both of which were lost--there is no need for the limitation; and on looking back into the eighties it will be found that the 3-ton class in the South and the 3-1/2-ton class in the North altogether monopolised the true plank-on-edge model entirely for themselves. Though the extreme types under the old rule were long, narrow, and deep, they were fine weatherly little sea-boats to the practised hand, but as a school for the tiro, except in racing, too heavily sparred and too narrow. The main point in favour of the 5-ton yacht built under the old rule--for the 5-rater of to-day is almost as large as the former 10-tonner, and requires quite as many, if not more, hands to work her on a racing day with her present lugsail rig--is that she is easily worked with one good hand, can be raced with three, or easily with four; and those whose early practical yachting experience was gained as small yacht sailors and yacht-owners will agree in this, that their happiest hours were spent in the boat that required fewest paid hands, or when their ship was of such a size that they were able to put to sea single-handed, or perhaps in company with a friend who could make himself useful. There are many who will say that a 10-ton or even a 20-ton yacht is too small to stand out to sea in; but when a yacht is of such a size that she requires more hands than one to work her there will be little or nothing learned, whereas, if the yacht is just a little too much for one man to handle, the owner is bound to do his portion of work each day, and what he does not know will soon be taught him by his man, so that he may enjoy his fair share of rest and not have to be called up in the middle of his watch below. Besides, if the cost is a consideration, a 5-ton yacht can be built for just half the price of a 10-tonner, and the keeping it up is very much smaller in proportion. It is not quite twenty years since the racing yachts of 5 tons were formed into a class, and prizes awarded them. The Clyde yachtsmen were the first to appreciate the value and capabilities of the little ships for affording good all-round sport, and the small expenditure entailed at that date in building them was a consideration in their favour. It has been a favourite class ever since. In Dublin Bay small yacht racing is far from a novelty, but it is only within the last few years that boats have been built to the class adopted in the seventies, viz., for 'yachts of 6 tons and under,' time allowance having previously been used to bring the small fry together. At that time Liverpool had two pet classes, the 20-ton and 10-ton, and such small yachts as were located on the Sloyne entered in the latter class. It was about the middle of the summer of 1873 that the writer's attention was first drawn to small racing yachts under 7 tons, and the way in which they could face almost all weathers. It had been, as it is at the present day, the custom to decry and run down racing yachts as unfit to be made into cruisers. 'The scantlings were light,' 'the framework was weak,' 'the plank, especially at the garboards and towards the run under the counter, may have been dubbed down to almost the thickness of brown paper.' This latter process was often resorted to some twenty-five years ago, so that ballast in the form of lead sheeting might be padded on to the keel and garboards. More than one large yacht at that period had been so treated that she was supposed to have not much more than half-an-inch planking at her two lowest strakes. 'I would not buy an old racing yacht if I were you.' Such were the comments and never-ceasing advice dinned into the ear; 'besides, they are fearfully wet in a sea-way, and most uncomfortable,' and, therefore, at that time the writer's vessel was a strong, able, high free-boarded schooner of 11 tons. In that year there could not have been a dozen yachts, taking our coasts round, which were being raced as 5-tonners, but there were classes made up of yachts of 7 tons and under, which took in some stray 3- and 4-tonners, and here and there a casual 5- or 6-tonner. One of the best of these 6-ton yachts (and this is including all the Scotch and South-country boats) was a little vessel built in 1871 for Mr. W. A. Tomlinson, by Mr. Dickenson, of Birkenhead, the well-known builder and designer of the principal pioneer Liverpool 10-tonners. Unfortunately her dimensions cannot be correctly stated, but she was about 32 feet between stem and sternpost on deck, some 6 ft. 6 in. in beam, and had a draught of 5 feet or a little more--that is, she was as nearly as possible the size of the 5-tonner of a five or six years' later date. The occasion on which the 'Wyvern' came under the writer's special notice was one long to be remembered on account of the anxiety created among the little yacht's admirers at Kingstown, owing to the severity of the gale that blew after she had left that port for Liverpool. There had been a regatta in Dublin Bay, where, as is usual, all the small boats of the St. George's Channel had collected to do battle. The 'Wyvern' had come over from the Mersey, and having won, her owner (at that time Mr. Colin Napier, of Liverpool) had left her in the hands of his two men, that he might hurry back to his business by steamer. The men were ordered to make the best of their way to Birkenhead, as the yacht had been entered for a local regatta the same week. They started early on a Wednesday, but unfortunately ran aground on the rocks at the end of the eastern breakwater on which the lighthouse is built. For the greater part of the day the boat was standing high and dry some feet above the low-water mark, but she sustained no damage, was floated off at the return of the tide, and left at once for her destination. The hour of her departure was about three or four o'clock in the afternoon. Three yachts left the harbour in company with her, bound for the same port, all three being at least 25-tonners. As the barometer had been falling ever since the morning, and there was every indication of bad weather, the skipper in charge of the 'Wyvern' was repeatedly advised to postpone his start till the following day, or till a change in the weather should take place; but it was to no purpose, since he was very anxious to reach the Mersey as soon as possible. [Illustration: DUBLIN, KINGSTOWN AND MERSEY _F. S. Weller_.] Towards 6 P.M. the north-westerly breeze, which had been blowing since noon, increased considerably, so much so, that first one and then the other of the larger yachts gave up and turned tail before it might become too late, the last to say good-bye being the largest of the three. This yacht, a well-known hard-weather vessel of over 40 tons measurement, after trying to signal a last advice to the little 'Wyvern' to return, put her helm down (though she was well past the Kish Lightship), and made herself snug for the dusting she was in for on the journey back to Kingstown. On shore, at both club-houses, the greatest alarm was being felt not only for the 'Wyvern's' safety, but also for the welfare of her three larger sisters, and the anxiety on the 'Wyvern's' account increased still more when her three companions put in their appearance again at their moorings. During the evening and through the night the wind increased to a whole gale, and the meteorological report next morning proved anything but pleasant reading, whilst among the old salts and those best acquainted with the capabilities of small yachts little hope was felt of ever seeing the 'Wyvern' again. On the evening of the next day the writer left Kingstown for Liverpool in his yacht, and fell in with the Mersey 10-tonners making the best of their way down river. The nearest yacht hailed informed him that the 'Wyvern' had arrived all safe, and had made a very fast passage across to the Sloyne. A few days after, meeting the skipper, a full account of the trip was given, and there was no limit to the eulogies he had to bestow on the yacht. During the night the sea had increased the further they sailed from under the lee of the land, but for all that the only time any seas were shipped was when off Holyhead. Twice only had they to free the yacht of water, and on those occasions very little had gone into the cabin. The 'Wyvern' was not a yacht of large displacement; she inclined, indeed, rather the other way. Those who have seen the 'Naiad' or 'Pastime' hauled up out of water (two of Dickenson's old crack 10-tonners which now frequent the South Coast ports) will have a better idea than any words can give of the 'Wyvern's' style of model and midship section. Built for length on deck, there was no necessity for shortening up the water-line, and her sternpost had no very great rake. Her buttock lines were as easy and fair as could be, giving her a slightly hollowed entrance with a nice clean run aft. Her extreme draught was not much over 5 feet, and her keel ran almost straight from the heel of the sternpost to the foot of the stem--that is, with very little if any rocker (or rounding) to it. Dickenson had a very admirable method of finishing off the after end of his yachts, and their counters were all light, and neatly put on. The 'Wyvern's' counter was particularly so. She was flush-decked save a large cockpit, which opened into the cabin, and which was surrounded by a 5-inch combing. This was the only weak or vulnerable part about her; for if a really heavy lump of water had filled it, there was nothing to prevent the cabin being swamped. Her fittings below were of the simplest description, though very comfortable. The sofas on each side of the saloon formed lockers and berths, and beyond these a pantry and a fitting for a lavatory, which was forward on the starboard side, with the usual two square lockers at the after ends of the sofas, were all the furniture of any consequence she contained. She had wood floors, iron not having come into fashion at that time, and carried the greater part of her ballast inside to the tune of 3 tons of lead and 10 cwt. of iron. Her outside ballast consisted of a 14-cwt. lead keel, which was considered in those days a very heavy keel for so small a yacht. She was one of the first small yachts of 6 tons or under that was fitted with a flush deck and ordinary skylight, and in every way she looked the picture of smartness. When she was first built her principal antagonists about her own size were the 'Adèle,' a small 5-ton yacht also by Dickenson, the 'Pet,' 5 tons, built at Douglas, Isle of Man, in 1871, and a very fast 3-tonner, the 'Barracouta,' built by Bishop in 1860, for Mr. J. M. Hannay. She was altered in 1874 into a yawl in order to race in the 5-ton class, which was at that time just beginning to be popular. Among the most celebrated of the early 5-tonners were three yachts, the 'Pearl,' 'Torment,' and 'Arrow.' Of the three, the 'Pearl' and 'Torment' were the best known, and are still held in loving memory by many a yachting enthusiast. The 'Torment,' owned by that well-known yachtsman the late Secretary to the Royal Irish Yacht Club, was raced from the day of her birth, some time about the year 1850, and was always a leader of the van. Her racing career lasted not much less than twenty years, and it was only the lead keels and the deep bodies given to the later yachts that brought it to a close. It is when looking back on such good old warriors as the 'Torment' and the 'Mosquito,' among the larger racers, that lovers of the sport whose incomes are limited must agree that the old days were good indeed. It was not necessary then to be the fortunate possessor of a new vessel each season to enable the lover of yacht racing to win prizes and keep well in with the flyers of the year. When an old boat appeared to be not quite up to the mark, or lacking in the requisite turn of speed, little was done to make her beat some new comer beyond a few alterations, which as a rule took the form of doctoring up one or other of her ends, or, perhaps, lengthening her out amidships. The most remarkable example of how a yacht's racing life could be made to outlive many competitors and leave her a winner to the last, by effecting alteration after alteration on her hull, was that of the old 'Arrow,' which belonged to Mr. Tankerville Chamberlayne. Alas! the days when an alteration was quite sufficient to keep a yacht successful have long since passed away, and from the present outlook seem as if they will never again return. The 'Pearl,' like the 'Torment,' was a hard nut to crack for all the new aspirants to fame which were built to beat her, and she kept her position as the fastest of the 'Mosquito' fleet for an untold number of years. She hailed from Fairlie, that birthplace of hundreds of fast, powerful winners, so dear to the hearts of all Scotch yachtsmen, and so well known in almost, every corner of the globe. She was owned and built by Mr. Fife early in the sixties, and after ending her racing career in the Clyde has found her way over to France, where she is as much appreciated as she was in the height of her day in Scotch waters, and has kept up her reputation of being a difficult boat to beat. Her dimensions were: length, 25 feet; beam, 7 feet; and draught, 4 feet. There were many yachts built to beat her, among them being the 5-tonners 'Hilda' and 'Viola,' designed, owned, and built by Mr. Inglis. This well-known yachtsman also launched a very pretty schooner of 8 tons called the 'Cordelia,' now, unhappily, lying at the bottom of the sea. She, like his other two ventures, was designed to race in the 5-ton class, and also to put the wee 'Pearl's' nose out of joint. They were all three big boats, fully decked, and veritable ships when compared with the 'Pearl.' They drew a foot or two more water, had big midship sections, and were in every way larger and more powerful yachts. Their success, however, was only partial, and it was a question whether, after all, the old boat did not in the long run hold her own. The 'Arrow's' reputation was only of short duration in comparison with the 'Torment' and 'Pearl,' but she was a remarkably small boat, and very like them in the main features of her design. She was got out originally to play a part very different from that in which she proved herself so successful, having been built and launched for a fishing-boat to trawl in the Thames; but her speed, like that of the Liverpool 10-tonner 'Wonderful,' showed up so conspicuously when sailing in company with other fast boats that she was forthwith bought, turned into a yacht, and made to fly a racing burgee. As may be supposed, both the 'Torment' and 'Arrow,' as well as the 'Pearl,' were only half-decked boats with waterways round them. In the year 1873, Mr. Stowe, of Shoreham, built the 'Diamond' to the design of her owner, Mr. W. Baden-Powell. She won some few races under his flag, but the chief reason of her name appearing in these pages is that she was, if the writer is not very much mistaken, the first of all the yachts of 5 tons and under in the south of England to go from port to port and race, her owner and his friends living on board. The 'Diamond' was a decided advance on the boats of her tonnage stationed between the Thames and Southampton; yet she looked small indeed when moored alongside the yachts of a year or two later date. Her length was 26 feet, with a beam of 7 feet, and an extreme draught of 4 ft. 6 in. She ran her fore and aft lines right fair to her taffrail, and had a long counter, part of which was submerged when she was down to her load-water-line. With such a small draught of water her height under the deck was necessarily low; she had however a high fixed coach roof, which helped her out of that difficulty to a certain extent. The cabin was roomy and made up four berths, but her weak point, like that of the 'Wyvern,' was her immense cockpit, which was almost as capacious as her cabin. In 1874 the late Mr. Charles Weguelin illustrated in a prophetical manner what were to be the dimensions and proportion of length to beam of the yacht of the future. The 'Alouette' was a 5-tonner, 33 ft. 7 in. in length from stem to sternpost on deck, 5 ft. 9 in. in beam, and with an extreme draught of 6 feet. She was built from Mr. Weguelin's design by Robertson, of Ipswich, but was not a great beauty to look at out of the water. Her body was long and full, and her displacement naturally large, though nothing like that given to vessels constructed on similar dimensions during the ensuing decade. Her chief antagonists were yachts of quite an opposite design, beamy, and of no great draught, besides being of a greater tonnage, such as the 'Virago,' 6 tons, 'Rayonette,' 8 tons, and 'Zephyr,' 9 tons. Against these the 'Alouette' was very successful, but her course was run as a successful racer when the season of 1876 ushered in one of the late Mr. Dan Hatcher's most triumphant achievements. Mr. Weguelin was so satisfied with what his 5-tonner had done that he set to work, and in 1875 placed the design of a 40-tonner in the late Mr. Ratsey's hands, who launched from his yard the 'Christine,' the counterpart of the 'Alouette,' only twice her size; that is, by doubling all the dimensions of the 5-tonner, the 'Christine,' a 40-tonner, was the result. The 'Christine,' however, did not fulfil the expectations of her designer, and though her length approached as nearly as possible to that of the 60-tonners of her date, still she could do nothing with them. Before saying farewell to the 'Alouette,' it is as well to remember that, notwithstanding her small amount of beam, she was a grand sea-boat. On one occasion she sailed from Southampton to Algiers and made a very good passage, considering that she had to face some very heavy weather on her journey. It has become the custom to run down the seaworthiness of the yachts built under the old rule, but the number of examples that could be produced, if time and space permitted, of what the old 5-tonner would go through, and that at her ease and without any fuss, would more than astonish many who now, in the faith they bestow on the boat with three beams to her length, forget the comfort and safety in which they were carried about by the old boats of five to six beams to their length. The 'Alouette' was wrecked at Algiers in 1890. She broke adrift from her moorings during a gale of wind, and was smashed up into matchwood. Nothing was saved from her. The season of 1876 was one especially to be remembered among those interested in the now established 5-ton class, as it witnessed the advent of three grand additions to the greatly increased fleet sailing in that class. Each yacht was from the well-thought-out drawing of a master-hand, and each was the representative of the three several schools of yacht-design, the 'Freda' being the work of the late Mr. Dan Hatcher of Belvidere, Northam, near Southampton; the 'Camellia' the offspring of Mr. William Fife, jun., of Fairlie, on the Clyde; while the 'Vril' was built from the design of Mr. G. L. Watson, of Glasgow. The 'Vril' holds the right of precedence in that she was not only designed, but built and sailed, by her three owners, Messrs. G. L. Watson, John Lawrence and J. B. Hilliard, who, assisted by two carpenters, put her together in the Messrs. Henderson's yard at Partick, Glasgow. She was a fine, round-bodied little vessel, with a large sectional area and great sail-carrying powers. She had less waste surface for friction and skin resistance in proportion to her size than many a yacht of a much smaller tonnage. In several ways she might be said to have been a novelty, as she was the first yacht that was fitted with a heavy lead keel consisting of the whole of her ballast. Her counter was short and tucked up with a knuckle on the quarter. She had no bulkheads, and her fittings were only such as were absolutely necessary; still very little goes a long way towards making a small yacht comfortable, and her head-room under her deck made her 'tween decks look like a palace. She was about the last yacht that was supplied with the fore and aft studding-sail (or stu'n's'l, as it is called) known as the 'ringtail'; but it was seldom, if ever, called into use. For small yachts such wind scrapers are more trouble than they are worth, to say nothing of the room the extra spars take up. The 'Vril's' record was remarkably good, and though the three friends, assisted by an amateur or two, were her only crew during her first season--for her owners would not have a paid hand on board--she won a full quantum of first prizes, and with the clever boats she had for rivals praise must be meted out not only to the little yacht herself, but to those who sailed her for the smart manner in which she was handled. The 'Camellia' and 'Vril' were, with the exception of their draught, almost identical in their dimensions, the 'Vril' being 28 ft. 3 in. long and the 'Camellia' 28 feet. Their respective beams were the same, 6 ft. 6 in., and they drew, the 'Vril' 6 feet and 'Camellia' about 5 feet of water. The 'Vril' at the end of her third season was sold and turned into a fast cruiser. Her fittings, as they are now, are very elaborate and are well illustrated and explained in the seventh edition of that handy and serviceable book, 'A Manual of Yacht- and Boat-Sailing.' She has been laid up for some time at Mr. Robertson's yard at Sandbank in the Holy Loch, where her proximity to many new yachts makes the signs of the sere and yellow-leaf stage of her existence, which is creeping upon her, very apparent. But there is life in the old boat yet, and her owner has in the 'Vril' a fine, able, comfortable little cruiser. It is now some six years since the writer had the pleasure of seeing the 'Camellia.' She had just been sold to a gentleman to go to Stranraer, where she is at the present time. She was hauled up on Fairlie beach in charge of the late Mr. Boag, and was awaiting a suitable tide for being launched. The 'Camellia,' though of like dimensions to the 'Vril,' was altogether different in form, and to those acquainted with the Fairlie type was as pretty an example of what the Messrs. Fife were in the habit of turning out at that period as it was possible to select. She and her sister ship the 'Clio' were both built from the same drawing, and were the first boats in which Mr. William Fife, jun., whose name is now a household word among men interested in yachting matters, played the conspicuous part of designer. The 'Camellia' was a smaller-bodied boat altogether, more compact than either the 'Vril' or 'Freda,' with a powerful entrance and fine run, and ribbands as fair as they could be. Messrs. Craig and Lawson, for whom she was built, possessed in her a little sea-boat capable of being driven in all weathers, and the harder it blew the more she seemed to like it. With less bilge and somewhat higher floor than 'Vril,' she was fitted, like her predecessor the 'Pearl,' with simply a half-deck and waterways, and was strengthened by a strong beam running across her to which the pump was attached. Of course in smooth water it was a great advantage being able to work the yacht from below, but in anything like very heavy weather she carried hatches for covering in the open space. Both the 'Vril' and 'Freda' were fitted with topmasts, but giving the 'Camellia' the same fitting was only an afterthought, for when she was launched, like the 'Clio,' she was supplied with a polemast. Three or four years after her appearance she was decked in and provided with a very neat coach roof, or booby hatch, but her head-room below in her cabin could not have been more than 4 feet. She makes a very good cruiser now, and from the grand work put into her, as into all yachts which hail from the great Fairlie yard, her sides looked when last seen as fresh and as smooth as on the day when she first saw the water. [Illustration: 'Freda.'] The 'Freda' is (for she is still hale, strong, and fit to show her tail to many a vessel of her size on cruising terms) a fine able boat, some 30 ft. 4 in. on the L.W.L., with a beam of 6 ft. 1-1/4 in. and draught of water 6 ft. 6 in. She is, like all the Belvidere yachts of those days, a boat of large displacement with a grand midship section, with Hatcher's well-known entrance, and a rather lighter quarter than usual. Her sternpost has very little rake in it; in fact, excessive rake of sternpost was a rarity during the seventies, and her keel was only slightly rockered. Most of her ballast, about 2 tons 14 cwt., was carried inside, and the lead on her keel was under 2 tons. She was built for Mr. Freake, her planking being altogether of mahogany. All the wood, dead woods, ribs, and planking were got out in Mr. Hatcher's yard and then taken to Mr. Freake's estate, where she was put together and finished off. As a model yacht she is a perfect picture both above and below water, as well as on deck and in the cabin. With a flush deck and a small water-tight cockpit, after the fashion of the 10-tonners, and a neat skylight, the 'Freda' looks all over fit to go, and equal to all emergencies. She has proved herself quite as much at home when cutting her way through a head sea as when smooth water and dry decks have been the rule. She was the home of her racing crew, and Mr. Beavor Webb, who sailed her during her racing career, and afterwards bought her from Mr. Freake, could spin many a yarn of the little boat's great weatherly capabilities. No three yachts were more unlike each other, and after all the 'Freda' had done down South, and the 'Vril' and 'Camellia's' successes in the Clyde, so much attention was attracted to them that at last a series of matches was arranged to take place between them off Holyhead the following season of 1877. The place was well chosen, as in bringing the several matches off on the coast of Holyhead Island there was no chance of favouritism, since the locality was strange to all concerned, and the yachts had to prove their worth in a sea quite different from that to which any of them had been accustomed. It is not too much to say that, owing to the distance that had to be covered before the three yachts could reach Holyhead, and the fame of their doings in the yacht-racing world, no more interesting racing has since taken place, either in America or in our own home waters, than the matches that were sailed off by these little opponents. The arrangement was that 'Freda' should sail 'Camellia' and 'Vril' separately, and the yacht that pulled off two out of each three races was to be declared the winner. The weather for some days prior to and during the race week was anything but inviting, and the manner in which the yachts worked their way to their port showed at once what kind of stuff they were. The 'Vril' was unfortunate, for owing to some gross carelessness the men who brought the yacht round from the Clyde allowed her mainsail to get damaged to such an extent that during the trials it could scarcely be made to stand. The stakes were for 100_l_. a side. The first match between 'Freda' and 'Vril' took place on May 14, 1877. The courses on each occasion were arranged by Messrs. G. L. Watson and Dixon Kemp. On the first day the course lay from the New Harbour across a line between the 20-ton yacht 'Challenge' and a buoy, round the end of the breakwater westward, rounding a flag-boat outside the inner end of the breakwater, thence eastward three miles round the Bolivar buoy; thence to a mark-boat off the old pier, twice round, finishing between the 'Challenge' and the starting buoy, 14 miles. There could not have been a finer trial than these three matches afforded. The wind on the 14th was light from E.S.E., shifting to the eastward, accompanied by rain, whilst on the second day it veered round between S.W. and N.W., and brought up with it the usual sea that most yachtsmen frequenting St. George's Channel know so well and hate so cordially. Space will not permit a full account of the races to be given here, but should details be required, they will be found most faithfully recorded in an article in 'Hunt's Magazine' for the year 1877, which has greatly assisted the writer in refreshing his memory, or in the 'Field' newspaper that was published on the Saturday following the races. The first match was the 'Vril's.' She was the first over the line, and though the 'Freda' very soon after passed her to leeward, she soon regained her original position, and gradually so increased her lead that at the end of the first round she was 1 min. 30 secs. ahead of her rival. The two little flyers had donned for the occasion all plain lower sail with working topsails aloft. On the run out for the breakwater the second time spinnakers were set, when the 'Vril' was unfortunate enough to carry away the goose-neck of her spinnaker boom. This was followed by the boom slipping into the water and at once snapping in two. Her crew smartly cleared the wreck, the outer end of the boom was lashed to the weather rigging, and the spinnaker set once more. Those familiar with such matters will readily understand how well things must have been done on board the Scotch yacht, when it is said that 50 seconds were all that the 'Freda' made out of the mishap. Before reaching the Bolivar buoy, the 'Vril' had more than made up her lost ground; and though on the journey home the 'Freda' gained a little, she was decidedly beaten, as she came in nearly 6 minutes astern of the 'Vril,' the times being--'Vril,' 3 hrs. 40 mins. 40 secs., and 'Freda,' 3 hrs. 46 mins. 10 secs. [Illustration: 'Challenge,' 20 tons, 1876.] The second match on the following day was sailed in about as dirty weather as it was possible for the concentrated energy of the elements to provide, and the result was that 'Freda' turned the tables on 'Vril' and beat her by about the same amount of time. The start was made at 10.20 A.M., and this time the 'Freda' got away first. Both yachts were reefed down, the 'Freda' showing a single-reefed mainsail and foresail with the third jib, while the 'Vril' carried a whole foresail with a double-reefed mainsail and second jib. The 'Vril' also started with her topmast housed. Outside the breakwater the little boats had to face a bad wind-against-tide sea, and quite a third part of the trip was made under water. For the run to the Bolivar buoy the 'Freda' set her spinnaker with a Paddy's reef in it, which gave her a tremendous lead, because, though her extra length told, still the 'Vril' had no spinnaker boom on board, having left it ashore, and could therefore only boom out her balloon foresail. On the thrash to windward, however, the 'Vril' gained twelve seconds on her antagonist, so that the first round finished 'Freda,' 1 hr. 49 mins. 2 secs.; 'Vril,' 1 hr. 54 mins. For the second round, the 'Vril' sent her topmast on end and set a topsail, but her mainsail had been so badly treated before the races began that it was found impossible to make it stand properly, and the remarkable thing is that the little yacht worked as well as she did under the trying circumstances. The 'Freda' kept to the sail she started with. The sea smoothed down considerably during the second round, which made the sailing somewhat easier. With the exception of a slight miscalculation in distance on the part of the 'Vril,' and a consequent extra board on the beat up for the harbour buoy, nothing of any importance took place, and the two yachts came in, 'Freda' first at 2 hrs. 44 mins. 40 secs., followed by 'Vril,' 5 mins. 15 secs. after her. The interest occasioned by the third day's sailing was extraordinary. All over the country an eagerness was displayed for news of the match almost equal to that seen on a Derby day. The wind was at about the same force, and blowing from the same quarter as on the previous day, with the addition of a harder feel in it. Both yachts, therefore, set the same amount of sail and had their topmasts housed. At the time of the start, which was made at 11 A.M., the sea was breaking over the lighthouse, and made the journey look anything but inviting. Both yachts, keeping a sharp look out on each other, were too keen on crossing the line, and had to return and make a fresh start, which they did side by side. There were not 10 seconds between them when they jibbed round the first mark, the 'Vril' leading, and the difference was further shortened by 5 seconds at the Bolivar buoy, this run having been made under boomed-out balloon foresails. The time between the yachts might have been lessened still more had not the 'Freda' been obliged to busy herself about her boom, which came adrift. From the Bolivar buoy home the little vessels danced it merrily to the tune of 'Blow, breezes blow.' The 'Freda,' before she made a fresh start, had placed herself 30 seconds ahead of her rival, but going out again, the 'Vril,' owing to the 'Freda's' not being able to make use of her balloon foresail, passed her before they had rounded the first mark-boat, only to be repassed on the running-reach to the Bolivar. The 'Freda's' best point of sailing brought her to the Bolivar 1 min. 30 secs. ahead, and though for the last time the 'Vril' showed her superior power in beating to windward, the 'Freda' had made up her mind to walk off with the dollars, and win she did by a few seconds over the minute. Considering the sea that was running, and the amount of broken water that was throwing itself about, this last race is one to be long remembered and handed down in the annals of small-yacht racing; and now and hereafter, when racing and cruising men feel a tendency arising in them to croak and speak ill of the little yachts that were built under the old rule of measurement, let them call to mind their mighty deeds, their racing and their voyages under circumstances and in weather that would frighten many a 50-tonner into harbour and to her moorings. The fourth day ushered in a new competitor, and the 'Freda' had to cross the line with the 'Camellia,' which she did five minutes after the second gun. The wind and weather had changed during the night, an unfortunate circumstance for the 'Camellia,' a hard-weather boat. The wind was unsettled, hung about between N. and N.E., and was at times very shy. The 'Freda' at first, not being able to hold the wind that the 'Camellia' did, lost ground considerably in the beat up to the Bolivar buoy, and the latter had reached on her so cleverly that the 'Freda' was fully a minute astern on rounding for the run into the harbour. The 'Freda' here had the pull over the Fairlie clipper, for she was provided with two spinnakers, while the 'Camellia' had but one, and as a shift had to be made (since they had left the Bolivar with spinnakers set on the bowsprit end) before setting off for the second round, the 'Camellia' was left in the lurch, her one spinnaker having to be taken in and boomed out. Standing out again, the 'Camellia' tried her best to pass the 'Freda' to windward, but to no purpose, as the 'Freda' was always ready for her each time the attempt was made, and at the Bolivar the 'Freda' was first round by 30 seconds. Coming into the harbour, the 'Freda,' again at her best, kept increasing her lead, and finally won by 1 min. 40 secs. Hunt's correspondent writes: 'This was a closely sailed race, in which the English boat owed much of, if not all, her success to smart handling.' The fifth day's race was sailed under something like the 'Vril' and 'Freda' weather. The wind had hardened up and freshened during the early morning, and kept increasing as the day went on. Both yachts started with housed topmasts, single-reefed mainsails, and No. 2 jibs, the 'Freda' running up and booming out her balloon foresail as she crossed the line. During the first round the 'Freda' showed herself the better boat when on a reach as well as in beating to windward in the teeth of the heavy, solid sea which was running. She, however, was only 1 min. 30 secs. ahead at the mark-boat. On the second round the boats were literally more under water than above; they were simply smothered in their efforts to windward, and had the 'Camellia' not been so persistently squeezed in order to make her look up closer to the wind than her rival, she might have gained more than she did. As it was, what she gained on one point she lost on the other, and allowed the 'Freda' to come in a winner by 1 min. 45 secs. On the sixth and last day the umpires were obliged to alter the course owing to the heavy sea running outside the breakwater. There had been no lull during the night, and with the northerly gale blowing it was thought too dangerous a matter to allow the small yachts to face the hazards of a lee shore. The mark-boat outside was therefore brought within the breakwater, the other was left in its place off the Old Harbour, and the course made nine miles, or three times round the two marks, which lay now in more or less smooth water. The start was made at 11.50 A.M. under double-reefed mainsails and small jibs, 'Freda' having sent her topmast on deck. The 'Camellia' got away 45 seconds ahead of the 'Freda' owing to the latter not having heard the gun, and increased her lead till she came to the mark-boat. Her lead, however, did not last long, for in the beat to the next mark she missed stays and allowed the 'Freda' so to gain upon her that by the time the mark was rounded the 'Freda' had put herself 1 min. 5 secs. ahead. The yachts had quite as much as they could do, the next time they had to haul their wind, to stagger under their small canvas, as the wind blew harder than ever and with more real venom in it. The 'Freda' finished the nine miles in 1 hr. 30 mins.--quick work taking everything into consideration--but the 'Camellia,' having again missed stays, up helm and made for her anchorage. This last match exhibited the powers of the two yachts in a different way, perhaps, and under conditions other than any met with in the previous races. If the third and fifth matches showed what fine sea-boats these small 5-tonners were, and how capable, handy, and powerful, when driven in a big, broken, heavy sea, the sixth day's racing proved that they could stand up to their canvas and bear pressing when many a much larger yacht would have had to be close-reefed. No apology need be offered for introducing these six matches into this work, because not only do they form a good precedent in the manner in which all the arrangements and the choice of fighting ground were made, but it is impossible in any other way to discover how one stay-at-home small yacht compares with another at a distance, unless they are brought right away from their respective localities and allowed to fight it out in open water unfamiliar to both. Before bidding adieu to the above three little beauties, it may not be amiss to add that the 'Freda' was sailed on all six occasions by Mr. Beavor Webb with a professional crew, the 'Camellia' was in the hands of Tom Dudley, of Southampton fame, and the 'Vril' piloted by one of her owners, Mr. Hilliard. Each year now introduces new aspirants to the Blue Ribbon fame of the well-established 5-ton class, and though few methods, if any, had been resorted to up to this time for the purpose of cheating the tonnage rule, which then took the length on deck between stem and sternpost as its measure, instead of the length along the L.W.L., still the year 1878 saw a notable tonnage-cheater launched from the Cheshire side of the Mersey in the formidable 5-tonner 'Lorelei,' designed by Mr. Wynne Eyton, her owner, and built by Messrs. Buckley & Sherlock. The 'Lorelei' was a yacht worked out purely and simply on the wave-line theory, as defined by Mr. Colin Archer, of Christiania, and her counter was partly submerged, not only to enable the lines of her after body to be carried out fair, but at the same time, without adding to her tonnage, to give her a foot and a half more length on the L.W.L., since she was 31 ft. 6 in., whether the measurement was taken on deck or along the L.W.L. Her beam was 6 feet, and she drew 5 ft. 6 in. Like the 'Vril,' her ballast, 4 tons in all, was on her keel, and her sail area 770 square feet, or 30 square feet less than that of the 'Freda.' The displacement of both these yachts was almost identically the same; yet the 'Freda' would have had a very hard struggle to keep within sight of the 'Lorelei' on an ordinary 5-ton yacht course. Frequently the 'Lorelei' very nearly beat her 10-tonner competitors on even terms, and was always fit and ready to save her time. In the smaller class, such as she would race in at Kingstown or Liverpool, there was not one boat that she could not beat. Mr. Richardson designed for the Messrs. Anderson, who used to own Hatcher's old crack the 'Queen,' 15-tonner, a 5-tonner called the 'Urchin.' She was intended to beat the 'Lorelei,' but she never could do anything when sailing against her. The 'Lorelei' carried rather a deep bilge, and her keel was well rockered. After Mr. Wynne Eyton parted with her, she went up to the Clyde, where she has done little or no racing, but has proved herself a first-class little cruiser. Her fittings below, when she was in the height of her racing career, were very good and rather unique. She had no bulkhead, but was entirely open fore and aft. She was flush-decked, and her main cabin was partly divided off by a double set of rails made of 3-inch planks, which formed an open, but double, partition to hold all her kites and other sails. This open sail locker or pen stretched right across from side to side, and was about 2 feet deep. It formed a good roomy receptacle for the sails, kept the weight amidships, and sails well aired. Something of the same kind of fitting has been applied to one or two 10-tonners, the open gratings in their case being carried right up to the deck on the starboard side, leaving the door and pantry in its usual place. The upper half of the grating facing the main cabin was on hinges, and could be removed altogether to allow of sails being taken out or replaced quickly, as, for instance, on a racing day. As regards tonnage cheaters, the chief method employed for walking through the 'length on deck' rule was that of bending up the sternpost. The first yacht built with a knuckle in her sternpost came from Messrs. Buckley & Sherlock's yard at Tranmere, on the Mersey, and belonged to the Sloyne. She was a 10-tonner, and with the others, which followed after her, very soon brought the authorities' attention to the rule, which was promptly altered to the L.W.L. measurement. Those who wish to know more about the 'Lorelei' will find a very good description of her, with drawings, as they will also of the 'Freda,' in the third edition of Mr. Dixon Kemp's work on 'Yacht and Boat Sailing.' In 1879 and 1880 two yachts were turned out which perhaps did more fighting as first-class 5-ton racers, and lasted throughout a greater number of seasons at the top of the tree, than any others had done since the days of the 'Torment' and 'Pearl.' The 'Cyprus' and 'Nora,' the one designed and built by Mr. William Fife, jun., the other parented on Mr. George Watson, were as distinct types in their way as were the 'Vril' and the 'Camellia' three years before. They were, besides, equally interesting, if not more so, since in them the practised eye could see how wonderfully the Fife and Watson designs had respectively developed and improved. The 'Nora,' built in 1880 for those keen racing yachtsmen of the Clyde, the Messrs. Allan, with 32 ft. 4 in. length on deck, 6 ft. 2 in. beam, and a rather deeper draught, was a veritable ship in comparison with her predecessor. More cut away forward and with greater rake of sternpost, big body and large sail-area, long counter and straight stem, nothing could touch her in light winds. The only antagonist that gave her any trouble was the 'Cyprus,' built the previous year. This yacht, designed to sail under either measurement, length on deck, or L.W.L., was exactly 30 feet when measured along the one, and 29.5 when measured along the other. Her beam was 6 ft. 4 in., draught 5 ft 4 in., with a displacement barely equal to that of the 3-tonners, which between the years 1880 and 1884 gave so much sport and became so popular. She was one of the smartest of the small fry Fairlie had ever turned out. Certainly few would gainsay the fact that the 'Cyprus' was by far the prettiest of her class at that date afloat, and at the same time looked a racer all over. Out of the water she was a perfect study to the lover of gentle curves and fine lines, and as sweet a model as any connoisseur would wish to feast his eye on. Without a straight line up or down, diagonal or horizontal, to be found about her, to all appearance, looking at her from a beam view, she presented a longer and finer entrance than had up to that time been given to any of the Fairlie small yachts. Such an increase had been meted out to her that at first sight it was difficult to free the mind of the impression that she must be a regular diver. An end-on view, however, soon dispelled all misgivings on that score, for her vertical sections showed a round floaty bow of extraordinary power. With a low freeboard of 1 ft. 9 in. at the waist, and a grand midship section, there was no wall-sidedness about the 'Cyprus,' whilst her run was fine and clean, and her buttock lines beautifully easy. Perhaps the prettiest features about the little yacht were her shear and the sit of her counter. This latter was light and long, and had a spring upwards towards the taffrail, rather after the fashion of a duck desirous of keeping her tail dry, though the yacht was a little more moderate as regards the height necessary for so carrying her appendage. The 'Cyprus' was kept in the family during her career in the Clyde, and was very successful during those seasons that her racing flag was seen at her topmast head, being always piloted by that prince of helmsmen, her designer and owner. In the winter of 1884 this yacht became the property of the writer, when she began a most successful career of a more all-round character than she had up to that time undergone, and it is principally from the practical experience derived from racing and cruising in her that he has been enabled to form his ideas and recommend the 5-ton yacht of ordinary dimensions as the best size and class of vessel for an inexperienced yachtsman to ship himself aboard as owner, captain, and hand. When the 'Cyprus' came into his possession her fittings below were practically _nil_. Like the 'Vril' in her early days, she had only such contrivances as were absolutely essential for one living on board during a time bounded by hours rather than weeks or months. He was therefore obliged to make a few alterations below, such as turning her sofas into lockers, having iron bed-frames fitted in the cabin on hooks so as to be easily removable, and a box made to stand in between the after-provision sideboards and under the ladder to hold a bucket, washing basin, and lavatory conveniences. On deck the fittings were almost perfect. The jib, throat, and peak halliards led below through brass fairleads let into the deck a few inches on either side of the mast. The forestay, instead of coming down through the stem-head along the deck, and being purchased up to the bits, was led through the stem close under the deck and set up by tackles to the mast. In place of the regular tackles to the bowsprit shrouds, two sets of selvagee strops were used, the one short and the other long. The long strops were doubled round the forearm of the belaying rail on each side, abreast of the rigging, and the standing part of the bowsprit shroud shackled on and set up with galvanised rigging screws. The short strop was employed whenever the bowsprit was reefed in. It was found strong and neat, and much better altogether than the old plan of tackles, which formed the original fitting. The 'Cyprus' was not entirely flush-decked--that is, she had a low very neat-looking 'booby hatch,' which fitted on a combing some three inches high. The combing ran from about two feet abaft the mast to within a couple of feet of the rudder-head. The after part enclosed a small water-tight lead-lined cockpit, then a foot of deck, ahead of which came the hatch, containing the after sliding hatch into the cabin and a low skylight. The width between the combings was 2 ft. 4 in. A transparent compass and binnacle fitted into the deck space ahead of the cockpit, and this was lighted by a lamp below in the cabin. This arrangement was excellent, as it prevented any of the troubles which so often arise in small yachts from the lights being washed out. At sea the boat was stowed below in the cabin, and as the hatch was very simple and easy to adjust, it was always taken off for the boat to be lowered down into its place. Another point in favour of this hatch was that on fine sunny days it could be removed and the yacht kept well-aired and sweet. A narrow strip of india-rubber, doubled, was nailed round, close up to the combing, and this proved a thoroughly effective method for keeping the hatch tight and preventing any water from coming into the cabin. The 'Cyprus' was a particularly handy boat. As the writer had to take her round to Plymouth from Scotland, he invited an old friend, and with the help of a boy of seventeen years of age out of one of the Plymouth trawlers, left the Clyde for Kingstown, the port of call, after enjoying a few days' cruising about by way of letting everything shake into its place. It was a Tuesday morning when the start was made from Lamlash, in Arran, and the 'Camellia,' which was on her way to Stranraer, left about half an hour before. The wind was N.W. and came down off the hills in strong squalls; but the water was smooth, and under all plain sail the little vessel simply flew along. After leaving Ailsa Craig astern, the sea began to show signs of getting up, and about 5 P.M., before reaching Corsewall Point, it had begun to take such liberties, and make such encroachments on deck whenever a big curler chose to break over aft, sometimes to the depth of three inches to four inches, that it was thought advisable to heave her to and shorten sail. About 6 P.M. the helm was put down and the foresail hauled to windward, whilst a reef was taken in the mainsail, No. 3 jib set, and our ship made snug. It was a treat to see how well the yacht lay to, and it is impossible to describe the feeling of confidence it inspired, for not a drop of water was shipped, and she rode like a duck the whole time, coming up and falling off as each sea passed under her. From the time the foresheet was let draw to the time she dropped anchor in Kingstown Harbour all went well, the only incident being the writer's coming on deck at 6 A.M. to find that the boy, who was on watch, had mistaken the Morne Mountains to the north of Dundalk Bay for the south of Ireland, on the strength of which he had given up steering by compass, and was taking a course into Dundalk, which would have soon led to a disastrous end. The compass, though a spirit one, was rather sluggish, and his idea of safety was steering by the land. Wednesday night was spent at Kingstown, and with the first of the ebb the 'Cyprus' was again on her way with gaff-topsail set over all. Light flukey airs from the southward and westward helped the yacht along during the greater part of the forenoon, but these were eaten up by the sun as the day wore on, and gradually died out altogether, leaving us to drift along till the tide began to make, when, being in easy soundings on the edge of the Arklow Bank, the anchor was let go, and the yacht brought up to await the beginning of the ebb or the wooing of a breeze. The next morning--Friday--there was no wind of any kind; but the tides run strong on the east coast of Ireland, and a whole ebb meant many miles to the good. The time during this drifting was well employed in having a thorough clean down, in opening up the cabin, airing the bedding, and improving the stowage of the general cargo shipped on board, consisting of sails, luggage, provisions, and numerous other necessary items. In the afternoon the yacht was again brought to an anchor, and remained so till Saturday, about 4 A.M., when a breeze springing up from the southward, her head was pointed towards the Welsh coast. Travelling was very slow, for the wind was very light, and not at all true. Two short boards were made on reaching the other side, and about 8 A.M. on Sunday the yacht was laying up on the port tack for the Smalls. The wind had now some westing in it, but not sufficient to let a course be laid for the Longships; and as long rollers were coming in from the south-west, it was settled to go well away to windward in order to make Land's End in one tack and obtain a clear offing. The Smalls was left behind about 3 P.M., and at 5 P.M. the whole face of the sky was beginning to look so threatening, and the clouds to drive past at such a rate from the southward, while the quiet rollers had already begun to break up and require such extra attention, that at 6 P.M. the 'Cyprus' was hove to, and made ready for a dirty night. The mainsail was taken off her and trysail set, the topmast housed and bowsprit reefed in, the second jib shifted for a spitfire, and the foresail double-reefed. Two hours later, the wind having sprung up into something near akin to a gale, and the yacht dancing with a light heart and by no means wet deck away out to sea, everyone on board was glad that she was under snug canvas and that time had been taken by the forelock. She could not have been more comfortable or cozy had she been a sea-going rocking-chair. On going about, the first land sighted was Cape Cornwall, but the wind, having had its say, again went down, till the yacht was left with just sufficient to keep her going, but not enough to make her steady, or prevent her knocking about in the choppy sea that remained. About noon, however, a breeze sprang up, and the Seven Stones Lightship was passed close to about 3 o'clock on Tuesday morning. Towards 8 A.M. the wind had veered round to the N.W., coming off the land in strong puffs; sail was made once more, and with fairly smooth water all the way the yacht lay herself down to her work, and finally brought to off the Hoe at 10 P.M. the same night. The lesson learnt during this cruise was a useful one--viz. that if sail is attended to in time, a 5-ton yacht is fit to face almost any weather, provided she has sea-room. During the whole trip round the crew were never without hot water when they required it, so easy was the yacht's motion to those below, even during the most disagreeable part of the journey; and no water went below even when it lay thick on deck, as, for instance, off Stranraer, and once or twice before sail was taken off her when near the Smalls. The 'Cyprus' was raced, whenever an opportunity presented itself, in the then A, B, and C classes, and in every case the racing was against yachts larger than herself. Any amount of Channel groping had to be undertaken, both from one English port to another, as well as between the French coast and England, ocean racing being quite as much in her line as the 'Meteor's.' Her best performances took place in strong breezes, and it was a sight worth seeing to watch the wonderful manner in which she could drive through a head-sea. At Bembridge Regatta the 'Cyprus' sailed the course round the Nab on a day when the 30-ft. class of yachts (15-tonners in reality) begged to have their course, which was identically the same, altered. No matter on what point of sailing she was engaged (and she is only given in these pages as a very fair type of the 5-tonner built to sail under the old Y.R.A. Rule), blow high or blow low, a lady might have handled her tiller without experiencing any of that muscular arm exercise so common in boats built under the length and sail-area rule, or even the slightest inconvenience. The 'Cyprus' was sent out to Toronto on board an Allan Liner from London, and became an ornament to Lake Ontario, where she is at the present time. Between the years 1880 and 1886 four 5-tonners were built from the designs of one of the most rising young naval architects the Clyde has ever produced--Mr. Payton. The first of this team was the 'Trident,' which, though not by any means a successful racer, was a fine able boat and moderately fast. She is mentioned here on account of her having made a long ocean voyage to the South of France. She was altogether bigger and a much heavier boat than the 'Nora' or 'Cyprus,' but could be worked just as easily. Five Frenchmen, however, were employed to take her South. Her behaviour under a very trying state of the weather, while crossing the Bay of Biscay, was highly spoken of, and the men who went in her declared their faith in her to such an extent as to be quite willing to take her out to the Cape. The 'Olga' was Mr. Payton's next attempt at a flyer. She was 32 feet long, with a beam of 5.73 feet, and had a great draught of water. She was a very large-bodied boat, was built on the most advanced scientific principles, and, what is more to the point, was a complete success; but she was a most unfortunate yacht. With a very wide keel her midships section was anything but shapely, and ran down almost in a straight line from her bilge, which was very low and square, to the bottom of the lead. At the Royal Irish Yacht Club Regatta, Mr. Power's steam yacht ran into her and sank her in Kingstown Harbour, but she was brought up and floated again, Mr. Power having bought her as she lay under water. The 'Olga' after this mishap won her full share of races, and ended her first season flying 18 winning flags, of which 15 were firsts. Mr. G. B. Thompson bought her during the winter, and the following season won four first prizes with her; but before the season was half over she was again unlucky, and on June 22 was once more run into and sent to the bottom, whilst in the Mersey. She was fished out, and put up for auction, but who bought her or what became of her is not generally known. The third yacht of 5 tons was the 'Luath.' She, however, was not such a phenomenon as the 'Olga,' and after the 'Olga's' short but brilliant existence, what was expected of her did not come off. She was, as may be supposed, very much like the 'Olga' in looks and of about the same dimensions, though of rather larger displacement. The last of the four was the 'Oona.' Her melancholy end is still fresh in the memory of many a small-yacht sailor. She was built in 1886 at Wivenhoe, in Messrs. Harvey & Co.'s yard, for Mr. Plunket, of Belfast, and was an extreme example of what could be designed under the old Y.R.A. Rule. Her length was 33 ft. 10 in. on the L.W.L., her beam 5 ft. 6 in., and draught 8 feet, but her chief characteristic was her marvellous body, which displaced 12 tons, both displacement and sail-area of 2,000 square feet and more being greater than many racing 10-tonners, and the latter over 1,300 square feet more than 'Freda' or 'Nora's' sail-spread. What she might have done as a prize-winner it is impossible to say, for she never reached her station. Coming from the eastward, she put into Southampton to effect some small repairs, and after remaining there a few days, on May 4, with her owner Mr. Payton, her designer, and a crew of three men on board, left for Belfast. It appeared that shortly after passing Dublin Bay--for she did not put into Kingstown, as might have been expected--her owner must have intended to make the best of his way up Channel, but, unhappily, terrible weather set in about the night of the 12th, and the general opinion was that, from some weakness in or lack of roping, the trysail was burst up, and that becoming unmanageable, or through her crew having been swept overboard, the yacht was driven on to the sands off Malahide and so became a wreck. Her hull was washed up without its lead keel and its fastenings or the iron floors; in fact, the whole of her keel and lower garboards had gone. Mr. Payton's name will always be associated more especially with the 3-tonner 'Currytush.' She was a more brilliant success than even the 'Olga'; but the old 3-tonners do not come within the scope of this paper. The last of the race of 5-tonners, if the 'Oona' be left out, is the 'Doris,' one of Mr. Watson's greatest successes in small-yacht design. She was built in 1885 for the Messrs. Allan, who had owned and sailed the little 'Nora' so pluckily and so well. Her length is 33.6 feet on the load-water-line, beam 5.6 feet, and draught about 7 feet, or a little more. The 'Doris,' like the 'Oona,' is an extreme representative of the old rule. Her displacement is very large, but there is far more shape and comeliness about her body plan than was to be found in any of Mr. Payton's designs. She has proved herself a clever boat in all weathers, and in light winds particularly so. Her chief rival, had she not been lost, would have been the 'Oona,' for there was no other 5-tonner afloat capable of tackling her, and her principal racing was against boats of a larger tonnage. She could always save her time on the crack 10-tonners of her day, such as the 'Uleerin,' 'Queen Mab,' and 'Malissa,' and the only matches of any interest that she was mixed up in were three that came off between her and Mr. Froude's 5-tonner 'Jenny Wren.' This yacht, designed by her owner, and built at Messrs. Simpson & Dennison's yard at Dartmouth, was made double-skinned for the sake of lightness. She, like the 'Doris,' was a large, big-bodied boat, but her form did not give that idea of power with which a look at the 'Doris' at once inspired the observer. Both the 'Doris' and 'Jenny Wren' are cut away forward, and carry the curve of the keel up to the water-line, finishing at the deck-line in a fiddle-head. The 'Jenny Wren' had shown herself remarkably fast in light winds and smooth water, and on certain days could leave the length classes to follow her up. Bad weather, however, was her weak point, and even in strong breezes and smooth water she did not always appear to be sailing at her best. At Plymouth, then, when the 'Doris' and 'Jenny Wren' met, everything depended on certain conditions what kind of a fight the latter would make. As the 'Doris' beat her, there is every reason to believe that it was either blowing hard or that the wind was shy and there was a certain amount of roll outside the breakwater. [Illustration: GOOD START OF SMALL RATERS IN THE CLYDE.] Since the measurement rule was altered, the 'Doris' has been improved by being spread out and given more beam. She still races, but cannot do much against the 10-raters, the class to which she now belongs, and has lately been sold to spend the rest of her days as a cruiser. Should she race in the future, it will be in the many Clyde handicap cruising races. With such bodies and draught there was no lack of head-room in the cabins of the latter day 'plank on edge' 'lead mines,' but the want of beam made the accommodation not exactly as grateful as it might have been had there been a little more elbow-room. The alteration in the 'Doris' has given her the requisite amount of beam, and she ought to make a very comfortable fast and able boat for cruising purposes. THE Y.R.A. RULE AND ITS 5-RATERS In the year 1886 the Yacht Racing Association brought in a new rule for yacht measurement, or, more properly speaking, for rating yachts to be used in racing. There is no other reason why a rule for rating should be required at all, as under the old rule, or any true capacity measurement, a naval architect or yacht designer would be sure to produce a good, serviceable vessel for cruising purposes, and according as the owner's requirements might be speed, accommodation, or light draught, so the several dimensions and design would be arranged to suit. With regard to this rule of rating by 'length and sail-area,' and the boats which are the result of it, there appear to be many and diverse opinions; and prior to noticing any particular yacht built under it, it will be as well to look at all its points before declaring for or against it. Experience declares them to be good sea-boats, in that they rarely ship solid water, and they are very fast when sailing on a wind. Their spoon and fiddle-headed bows would help to throw the water off, while their mast being stepped almost in the eyes of the yacht, would make them eat up into the wind, because it permits of most of the driving power being concentrated in one big sail. Their sailmaker's bill is a small item, on account of the tendency to keep the sail-area down. For instance, the 'Archee,' Mr. Lepper's 5-rater, of Belfast, with a length of 30.4 feet, a beam of 9.2 feet, and a draught of nearly 5 ft. 6 in., a length on deck of 39.5 feet, the tonnage of which, by the last rule, would have been a little over 6-1/2 tons, has a sail-area of 979 square feet against the 1,680 square feet of the 'Doris' 5-tonner. They are bigger boats than the old 5-tonners, but then they have so much more beam. The 'Cyprus' was the same length as two-thirds of the 5-raters that have been built, but she had only 6 ft. 4 in. beam against the raters' 8 feet to 9 feet. They have very little gear with the lugsail rig, and the decks are always clear. They can lay to, but it is on the same principle as that of a Una boat, and they would not remain on one tack all the time but for the little jib they carry, while they forge ahead at a great speed, and cannot be stopped unless a man is left at the helm to look after it. If properly trimmed the rater can be steered by the lightest hand when beating to windward and close hauled, and she is remarkably quick in stays. Experience, however, shows that, though the rater rarely ships a sea, still, when she does put her nose in the water, it becomes a general question on board her whether she will ever bring it out again. This is not altogether enjoyable, and such sensations were never experienced in boats built under the old rule. The one large lugsail, too, and little jib form a most unhandy rig. Experience has also proved that, with regard to the two factors, sail-area and length, the tendency is to make the body of as small displacement as possible, taking the length into account, so that with the small area of canvas employed there may be very little weight to propel. Thus, though the early raters were big-bodied and roomy boats, with good head-room below, the boats built lately are inferior in those qualities, and those which will be put on the stocks in the future will be merely big canoes with bulb-keels. Experience prefers for Channel seas a boat that can be driven through the water when necessity compels without any sense of danger, and that, if allowed to do so, will ride over the waves when no object is to be gained by making a short cut through. A yacht of four beams to her length or more will do this far more comfortably and with less commotion and fuss than one of three beams or less to her length. Experience furthermore says that, though the lugsail requires very little gear, and can be hoisted with a certain amount of ease, yet if sail has to be shortened, or the lugsail to be taken in hurriedly, it requires more than three men to do it smartly; at no time is the job an easy one, but if any sea is running, or the weather squally, three men have as much as they can do to handle it. This is never the case with the gaff-mainsail. In a 5-tonner a man and a boy could have shortened sail easily, and though the sail-area was great, one man and the owner could always sail her from port to port. Money may be saved through a small sailmaker's bill, but it must go out in wages to the crew and extra hands. It is a good point to have very little gear about, but the 'Wenonah' and 'Wee Winn' both prove that a gaff-mainsail is quite as suitable as the lug and a better all-round sail. _Experientia docet_ that the rater, though she can lay to, cannot be hove to and have her way stopped. And the risk with her is, that in a sudden rush, caused by her aftersail filling, she may bury herself by jumping right into a head-sea--a most dangerous performance when the weather is so bad and the seas so high that travelling can only be carried on at peril. Again, experience tells a tale that raters are not all so very tender on the helm even when sailing on their best point, and are what would be called in horsey phraseology very hard-mouthed; and that whilst off the wind they are like star-gazers, all over the place, and ready to rush anywhere and everywhere rather than straight ahead or where the helmsmen want them to go. Some of the small yachts built latterly under the old rule had a similar inclination, but it was generally at a time when they were being very heavily pressed, carrying too much sail, or when badly trimmed. Of the two kinds of overhang forward, the spoon-shaped bow, which Mr. G. L. Watson has given his new boats, is the best, because it adds flotation as well as length on the L.W.L. when the yacht is sailing down to her bearings, and fairs all her longitudinal curves. The fiddle-headed bow may be thought by some to look prettier, but it is not so effective, unless it helps by its flam, or flare out (which some new yachts with this kind of bow do not have), to keep the decks clear of water. The overhang bow means an extra top weight, which has to be provided for and counteracted when the calculation is being made for the ballasting; but, on the other hand, it gives enlarged deck-room. It also saves having a long outboard spar in the shape of a bowsprit, and so does away with any need of reefing. This is really only a small matter after all, since even with a rough sea there is never very much difficulty in reefing in the bowsprit providing it is properly fitted. Years ago in American waters there was scarcely a sloop built that had not an Aberdeen stem or fiddle-headed bow, but for some years they were discarded, and it is only lately they have been brought into fashion again. No American would give up anything that he had pinned his faith to unless he saw some real advantage to be gained by so doing. It is quite easy to understand why Americans should come back to the old stem now, for their waters like it, and it helps to cheat the rating for length. The main design so common in the rating classes is perfect when regarded from two points of view only. The long, very gentle curve that runs up from the heel of the sternpost to the stem-head, and the excessive rake of the sternpost itself, allow of no more outside deadwood than is absolutely necessary to keep the yacht together, hang the rudder, and fix the lead keel on, so that whatever surface there may be to cause friction is doing its duty--that is, is caused by the skin or planking. The form thus given has its drawbacks; this experience has shown us and they are far more prominent and, therefore, serious when met with in the smaller raters than when seen in a 40- or 100-rater. The second point is the quickness with which yachts of this new design 'stay' and 'get away.' This is a more practical benefit to large yachts than to small ones; for vessels like the 'Doris' or the old 'Solent,' 30-ft. and 25-ft. classes, could all stay and move off quite quickly enough, although they might not have manifested a desire to spin round twice when not stopped on their wild career, which is a marked peculiarity with the modern mosquitos. In the large classes a few years ago it was a common thing to make use of the time occupied in going about to take in or shake out a reef when circumstances demanded it; at the present day the skipper or sailing-master has to keep his wits about him, otherwise he may find his beauty turning round and looking him in the face; for the large rater can whip round like a top. Now, in regard to the courses round Great Britain, two-thirds are what may be called reaching courses--that is, there is more running and reaching to be done than there is beating to windward--and though the distance to be sailed over in tacks may be only a third of the whole course, still the tacks that have to be taken will make the distance almost as long as two-thirds of the whole course itself; hence comes the advantage of having a yacht that will travel the distance quickly on a wind. Nevertheless it seems foolish to place the eggs all in one basket, and as it is an absolutely useless accomplishment for a yacht to be able to go round two or three times to the once putting down of the helm, the question may be asked whether she would not be equally quick and a better racing, to say nothing of a cruising, yacht if she were not quite so much cut away forward, or, better still, if her sternpost were not quite so much raked; and could not this be done without materially affecting the speed? If the idea is to give the yacht a great hold of the water by a deep draught, then it is easy to understand that the present fin-shaped keel is necessary; but Mr. Herreshoff has given practical proof that such a shaped keel or such excessive draught is by no means necessary to make a boat weatherly or a successful prize-winner. With a straighter sternpost a certain length of horizontal keel might be required to keep the centre of lateral resistance in the best place, but that again would only be following Mr. Herreshoff at a near distance, and would make the boats run and reach better and under a steadier helm, whilst a very imperceptible difference would be found in their rate of travelling to windward. The two Herreshoff boats that have been sent over to England have certainly shown their tails to our smartest raters in the two rating classes, viz. the 2-1/2 and 1/2. Both the 'Wenonah' and 'Wee Winn' are fitted with bulb-keels, which run their length horizontally to their L.W.L., and they are good on all points of sailing as well as remarkably quick in stays. These two boats are rigged with regular gaff-mainsails too, so that notwithstanding the craze for lugsails, they are not essential to make a boat sail past the winning marks first. To the cruising yachtsman who lives on board his little vessel, with such an alteration or improvement as the one referred to above there would be the comfort and satisfaction, when hauled alongside the pier of a tidal harbour, of knowing, after the yacht had begun to take the ground, that he had not to sit up all night watching her, or waiting till her bow started to lift before he could turn in to his bunk, because his yacht would take the ground on a more even keel. It is no child's play looking after a fin-keeled yacht taking the ground, and the very greatest of care and most subtle precautions have to be used to avoid a fall over on the side. [Illustration: 'WENONAH' _2-1/2-rater (Mr. H. Allen). Designed by Nat. Herreshoff, 1893._] In designing a small yacht there are matters that have to be considered which scarcely affect larger vessels except when comparing them, again, with larger vessels still. One of these points almost makes it worth while looking back at the reasons why certain types of small yachts have become so prominent and so much sought after and believed in. The great American designer, Mr. Herreshoff, and our own clever yacht architects here, are taking the canoe of the savage as their model; and as this is the case, it may be interesting to see how, starting from the canoe, all yachts have taken their form (no matter how deep or beamy they may have been), and perhaps, too, by so doing, it will be easier to discern and arrive at the kind of form best suited to meet special requirements, apart from the trammels of the rules, measurements, or ratings such as are or have been laid down for yachtsmen and yacht-owners by the Royal Thames, the Yacht Racing Association, the American and French yacht clubs, or other societies and authorities. The canoe of the South Seas or the kyak of the Greenlander could not have been better chosen, had they been worked out on the most scientific principles, for the work they have to do. The shape is that best adapted for speed, lightness (which means light displacement), and, under certain conditions, for sea-going qualities. Those conditions are, of course, smooth water or big ocean rollers, which seldom if ever break, and a propulsion easy, strong, and yet not exaggerated, longitudinal and not transverse in its tendency (as in propulsion by sail). Now if this model be taken, which invariably possesses a U-shaped section, there will be no great difficulty in understanding the whys and wherefores of the several transformations it has undergone. If it is desired that a small boat should keep the sea, the nearer she approaches to the canoe form, as far as is compatible with the limited requirements, the better able will she be to cope with the difficulties which she ought, under the circumstances, to be ready to encounter. Hence it is that those men who make great ocean voyages, as, for instance, across the Atlantic, in boats about 15 feet or thereabouts, always have their boats built as round and floaty in form as it is possible to design them, taking into account that they must be decked, have sufficient depth of hold to allow of stowage for provision and water, which act as the greater part of the ballast, with the addition of just sufficient room for lying down at full length under deck covering: 2 ft. 6 in. to 3 feet is the outside depth under the deck of any of these diminutive ocean cruisers. The entrance given to such boats is always full and buoyant, though not bluff. Rarely do they have a vertical stem, but one rather rounded up, with a slight overhang. The after-body is generally whale-shaped, with the sternpost at a somewhat less angle than the stem. Both stem and stern-posts have this inclination given them, not with the idea of making them quick in stays, but rather for the purpose of meeting and throwing off head or following seas, and adding buoyancy to both ends. The main principle in these boats is to obtain buoyancy and speed, while great sail-carrying power for driving at abnormal speeds does not so much as receive a thought. This is why it so seldom occurs that any of these little vessels fail in reaching their destination. They go over the seas and not through them, owing to lack of weight and want of power. Their worst experiences during their long, uninteresting, and perilous voyages generally begin on nearing our shores and the chops of the Channel, where the seas begin to assume a broken, short, uneven, or at the best a deep ridge and furrow, shape. These boats may be considered the first remove from the early canoe form. The general requirements, however, in a yacht are speed, accommodation, sail-carrying power, and weight. This latter property means, in other words, the ability to drive through a sea which, from its wall-sidedness, makes it an impracticable barrier to get over. When a vessel has not the weight or power to meet such a sea, as a rule, it spells disaster, or, to say the least, very disagreeable consequences; whereas if she can climb a part of the way up and then send her nose through the top, all is sure to end well. Accommodation is very near akin to weight, for it is impossible to have a roomy boat without weight being concerned in it as a factor of some consequence. Accommodation in a yacht of 30 feet length and 6 feet to 7 feet beam means that there should be a height between the cabin floor and the deck beams of 4 ft. 6 in. to 5 ft. 6 in. at least, and this will demand a big-bodied boat of rather large displacement, otherwise the deepening in the water of the original U shape. Such a boat will require a large sail-spread to propel her. Supposing, however, that such height between decks is not required--that is to say, the boat is to be only partially decked with a large open cockpit--in that case the designer can, if he chooses, give the boat very much less displacement, which, in its turn, will require less driving power. The tendency, as it has been shown, of the Length and Sail-Area Rule is to provide just such a small displacement yacht, and accordingly a large yacht will some day be launched without any accommodation whatever. Sail-carrying power is almost entirely a matter of displacement, for it is only a large-bodied boat that will have buoyancy sufficient to carry a great weight of ballast, and the deeper that ballast is placed, the more leverage will there be to counter-balance the sail, and hence the greater may be the sail-spread. Under the new system of deep plates, with the whole of the ballast bolted on at the bottom of the plate in the shape of a cigar or Whitehead torpedo, it is impossible to say how much area of sail could not be given to a boat of a certain length, beam, and depth of hull, and the only questionable difficulty that would come in the way would be the weight of the mast and spars necessary to carry the sail. For instance, take the three principal methods of stowing ballast, inboard, outboard, as in the ordinary keel, and the plate with a bulb. The dimensions of the boat to be supplied with sails are, length 30 feet, beam 7 feet, draught to bottom of wooden keel 4 feet. If the ballast is stowed inboard (lead ballast is presumed in all the cases), and the displacement permits, the sail-area may be 800 square feet. If the ballast is taken out and moulded in a keel, the sail-area may be increased to close upon 900 square feet. Should the lead be taken out and a plate some 2 feet or 3 feet deep be fitted, with the lead in the form of a bulb fixed at the bottom, the weight of the spars and the sails would be the only obstacle to the great increase of canvas that might be spread. Suppose, again, another hull be employed for experiments, having the length the same, but the beam increased to make up for the smaller depth of body below L.W.L. of 3 feet, the new hull may have the same displacement, and therefore the power to support the same weight of ballast as the last example. If this hull were supplied with a plate 4 feet or 5 feet deep, with the same bulb of lead, she would carry a still greater amount of sail; but with such a shallow boat there would be no accommodation. Speed, that element in design which everybody cries after, whether they be practical scientific yachting men (and there is one thing Great Britain can boast of in her yacht designers, professional or amateur, and that is, they are all, without exception, first-rate helmsmen and seamen), or only graduating in the first principles of yacht-racing, is dependent on many conditions. In the first place, it forbids the presence of all superfluous deadwood, so that the outside surface presented to the water may be all of a useful description (that is, by being part of the planking or skin, or only as much deadwood as is necessary for the strength of the vessel), and the friction caused thereby may be reduced to a minimum. With a hull of large displacement there must naturally be very much greater surface friction than in one of smaller body, and therefore the question will arise--Will not the smaller yacht be the faster of the two? This involves still deeper sifting, because sometimes the smaller yacht will beat the one built on the same length and beam, though she may be very much larger. Before we can choose which of the two kinds of boat will be the better to have for a successful racer, a second great condition has to be looked into and satisfactorily settled. This is nothing less than what kind of waters the yacht will have to race or cruise in. The question of the element water is one very frequently forgotten and lost sight of by those buying yachts, especially second-hand ones; and the purchaser, who perhaps buys a most successful small vessel in the South, is astonished to find that when he has tried her against the local Scotch cracks, her performances prove of a very poor description in comparison, and disappointment is the consequence. Water may be in the eyes of some all the same, wherever it may be, and so it is round our coasts in its smooth state; but when it is set in motion there are scarcely two of our great yachting stations alike, while the seas in our three Channels all vary in form. At the mouth of the English Channel the seas, as soon as the 'chops' are left astern, become regular, are long and deep, and more or less easy for a small yacht to negotiate; that is, she has room to work in and out of them, and at the same time avoid receiving a comber aboard as passenger. As she sails farther up and the channel narrows, the seas become more of the deep ridge and furrow order, steep, narrow, and difficult to sail over, whilst each sea will contain its full weight of water. On nearing Calais the seas have less water in them, but are very short and steep; the consequence is they are more inclined to break. In the North Sea the sea disturbance takes another and larger form, and sailing North becomes still larger, and, of course, wider and deeper, till the Northern Ocean is opened out. St. George's Channel is very much like the English Channel, except that between Port Patrick in Scotland and the Irish coast the waves are more regular than between Calais and Dover, where currents and banks tend to make dangerous cross seas. So it is found that off Plymouth and Falmouth and outside Dartmouth there is often an ocean swell running, especially after there has been a south-westerly gale. The Solent, again, is different from the Clyde in its sea disturbance, and when acted upon by a south-easterly gale the seas off Spithead, owing to the shallowness of its water, have not nearly so much weight of water in them as those of the Scotch estuary when worked up by a northerly or southerly breeze. The Liverpool and London rivers are very much alike, though perhaps of the two the Liverpool has the greater sea disturbance, owing to the strength of its tides, which at some seasons are very rapid. To large yachts of 40 tons and over the difference in character of the seas just spoken of is not a matter of great importance. What a large yacht may treat as a mere ripple to a 5-tonner may be a 'nasty sea'; and as these pages are dealing with the smaller craft of about 30 feet length, the sea disturbance must be regarded as it affects them. On rivers and inland waters the waves, as a rule, have not much weight in them, and there is no reason why the small yacht should not be able to go through the waves she is unable to rise over. Yachts of large displacement are more likely to do that at better speed than a small vessel of the same beam and length, because they have more weight. Where ocean rollers are concerned, or a heavy swell, while there is wind both types may be equal; but when the wind is shy and light, then the yacht of large displacement will walk past her small rival. It would be noticed that the heavy displacement vessel would forge ahead apparently moved by no other force than the 'send' of her weight as she lazily pitches to the movement of each succeeding wave. The courses for small yachts where such conditions are met with are Plymouth, Dartmouth, and Queenstown, and some parts of the Clyde and St. George's Channel to a very much lessened degree. Then, if a thought be cast across the Atlantic and a look be taken at the characteristics of the waters of Long Island Sound, that favourite haunt of all American racing and cruising yachtsmen, as on our own inland waters, the seas that much disturb the small fry are, it will be observed, scarcely noticeable to the large schooners and cutters of which so much is heard. The principal form in America laid down for all yachts used to be a long flat floor with very small displacement, great beam with a centreboard--the immense beam giving great initial stability. Large as well as small yachts were built to this design, and much used to be heard about their remarkable speed. A few years ago, however, two or three small yachts, amongst them the little 'Delvin' 5-tonner, built by Mr. W. Fife, jun., were sent over, all of fairly large displacement. These, without exception, put the extinguisher on all the American small yachts, by beating them time after time. The reason of it was that the English-built yachts could drive through what broken water or sea disturbance they met with, while the 'skim-dishes' could do little against it. Since those days the Americans have very materially altered their model, and both large and small yachts have been given more power; _vide_ the examples brought out to compete with our yachts for the 'America Cup,' and those to which the 'Minerva' has so lately shown her tail. Where, therefore, great speed is required, and there is no limitation to sail-carrying power, a large displacement vessel is the best type to choose. Some small-yacht racing men do not like to be always remaining in their home waters, but prefer to go round to the regattas at other ports, and try their luck against the small yachts that gather at these meetings. They live on board, and sail their yachts round the coast. To such the large bodied boat is a regular frigate. The head-room is good, no lack of space is wanted for a comfortable lie down, and the owner and two friends, with racing sails and all other yacht paraphernalia, can stow away in the main cabin as cosily as can be. [Illustration: 'Minerva,' 23 tons. Designed by W. Fife, 1888.] During the last six years yacht designers have been spending their time in perfecting a vessel to be rated by length and sail-area alone. Boats of large displacement and moderate length, with good sail-spread, limited so that the boats might be rated under their several classes, gradually, but surely, gave place to boats of greater length, smaller bodies, and a smaller sail-spread. It does not appear, from the opinions of many who have published their views, that there is at the present time any particular desire to have good accommodation in racing yachts. The owners of the greater number of the 5-raters do not live in them, and the owners of the 40-raters have been so accustomed to great head-room in their vessels, that now, when, instead of having 7 feet to 8 feet, they still find they can walk about in the cabins, no complaints are heard; but with the lessons that Mr. Herreshoff has been teaching, there is every reason to believe that we may live to see a 40-rater launched with about 3 to 4 feet depth of body under water, and then perhaps there may come a reaction, and a return may be made to a moderately large displacement. Up to the present time the 5-raters have been kept fairly large, and owing to their beam, as far as internal accommodation is concerned, have room enough and to spare; but the raters of 1893 were not nearly of such large displacement as the boats of two years before, and they are wonderful to look at outside. The fin-keel requires great depth if it is to be of any real use, and it is in this particular point that small yachts suffer. If a 5-rater is to sail in all waters, and go the round of the coast regattas, then her draught should be limited; of course, if the sole intention of the owner is that his yacht is never to race in any other locality than his own home waters, then, if the home waters be the Clyde, or Windermere, or Kingstown, there is no reason why depth should not be unlimited. On the other hand, should the yacht be intended for a sea-going vessel, then a heavy draught of water is not altogether desirable. There are times when a 5-tonner or rater may be overtaken by bad weather while making a passage, and when a comfortable harbour under the lee would be a most acceptable refuge to make for. There are scores of snug little places round the coast where a small craft could lie peacefully enough, provided her draught of water allowed her to make use of any one of them. The average depth of water at these bays or harbours is about 6 feet at low-water spring tides. Hence no yacht or rater of 30 feet or under should have a draught of more than 6 feet. The writer remembers only too well an occasion when, after leaving Campbeltown, in Cantyre, for a northern port in Ireland, a north-westerly gale sprang up, bringing with it rain and a sea fog. The distance across from the Mull is not more than a few miles, but when his yacht made the land it was blowing so hard he had to run for the nearest shelter. Alas! when he sighted the little tidal harbour he was steering for, it was low water, and his yacht, which drew 7 feet 6 in., could not enter. He had to lie at two anchors outside in the Roads with some half-a-dozen coasters, expecting, with every shift of the wind, that the anchorage might become one on a lee shore. The 'Humming Bird,' in 1891, left the Solent for Queenstown. She is a 2-1/2-rater. After leaving Land's End the weather, which had been more or less fine, changed, and the sea getting up, it was decided to take her into St. Ives Harbour. She unfortunately drew more than 6 feet; the consequence was, though only 25 feet on the water-line, she was compelled to take her chance and drop anchor in the bay outside, because there was only 6 feet of water in the harbour. None know the value of a moderate draught of water better than those who have cruised or raced afar from home, and groped their way into all kinds of out-of-the-way bays and harbours in small craft. The yachtsman who builds for racing only, possesses the means, and is ready to launch a new yacht to his name every other year, should (if he be a sensible man and proposes to himself to sell the yachts he has no further use for) think of the requirements of the market and his ability to sell. Soon the yacht mart will be flooded with a number of cast-off 5-and 2-1/2-raters, all with a draught of water which would limit their sale to only a few places. There are many living at the present moment who will remember the time when even the large yachts of 100 to 200 tons were never given more than 12 feet draught. This was done to enable them to enter tidal harbours, the greater number of which only have a depth of 15 feet at high-water neeps. But there is another argument in favour of not having too great a draught of water, and that is, it is not an element of speed, beyond helping the sail power; and the existence of yachts like the old 'Fiery Cross,' which only drew 8 feet and was a most successful winner, and of the Herreshoff boats, which do not draw so much as the English-built raters and are the cracks of the day, points the lesson that it is well to put a limit where a limit may be altogether an advantage. Great care is necessary in apportioning out beam, no matter whether the yacht is to be of large or small displacement; great beam in the case of a yacht of small displacement is only suitable for waters such as Long Island Sound, or long rolling seas, and is useless in heavy broken water like that met with in our channels; because it is a difficult matter, without weight, to drive through the seas. When great beam is given to a yacht of large displacement, she may be able to fight her way through the water, but it will not be at the greatest speed for the given length, since it was proved by the old Solent 30-ft. and 25-ft. classes that when beating through a head sea a yacht of the same length, but of small beam, such as the 'Currytush' and the late Lord Francis Cecil's little 3-tonner 'Chittywee,' were able to travel faster through the water whenever it was a hard thrash to windward. The general opinion of those competent to judge is, that 3-1/2 to 4-1/2 beams to the length on L.W.L. is about the most advantageous proportion, some going even so far as to assert that three beams may be given; but, in dealing with small yachts, 5-raters and 5-tonners, as this chapter does, the writer believes that four beams to length is a good proportion to meet all kinds of weather with; and if 30 feet be the length 7 ft. 6 in. the beam, and 5 ft. 6 in. the draught, such proportions will be found to give quite sufficient scope to any designer in order that a remarkably fast weatherly little ship may be the result of his calculations. The height between the decks with a large displacement would give 4 ft. 6 in. to 5 feet head-room. Nothing has been said about the sail-area, which should not be taxed. The element sail-area appears to be the stumbling-block in the present rating rule. It is limited, and the consequence is the cart is put before the horse, and the hull is built to the sail-spread. Thus the hull is being minimised to carry the small area allotted to certain lengths. There have been so many raters built since the present rule came in that it would take too much space to mention them all with their several points, but there is this fact to notice, which backs up what has been said before, that South-country designed boats seem to do well in their own waters, while those brought out in the Clyde fare best there. When Clyde 5-raters have gone South, they have performed badly--though the 'Red Lancer' in 1893 proved the exception to the rule--and the Solent raters that have found their way up North have made but a poor show. Mr. Arthur Payne is the king of draughtsmen on the Solent, and his yachts, with those designed by Mr. Clayton, also a prince among naval architects, have all had their turn at winning prizes when they have been properly sailed. Mr. Payne's designs mostly favour a fair amount of displacement, and 'Alwida,' built by him for Lord Dunraven in 1890, is a very fine example of the kind of craft he can produce. The workmanship is fit to compare with the very neatest cabinet work. The following year the beam was increased by some inches, the length underwent a drawing out, and at the same time the body was tucked up to decrease the displacement. The next movement, if it is possible to judge by the 2-1/2-raters, will be to follow in the steps of Mr. Herreshoff--who speaks for himself in other chapters. The 'Cyane,' another of Mr. Payne's 5-raters and an improvement on the 'Alwida,' has few fittings below, but there is great height between decks, and if she were changed into a cruiser, she has enough room to make her everything that can be desired, without greatly decreasing her speed. To describe all the 5-raters sent out to do battle by those Northern champions, Messrs. Fife and G. L. Watson, would be equally out of place here. Their boats are too well known all over the world both for speed and beauty of design, and if there is a point peculiar to either of them that marks their vessels and makes their meetings interesting and exciting, it is that while Mr. Watson's are extra smart in topsail breezes, Messrs. Fife's yachts are specially good in strong winds. [Illustration: 'RED LANCER' _11 tons T.M., 5-rater (Capt. Sharman-Crawford). Designed by Fife of Fairlie, 1892._] In mentioning these well-known names, it would be impossible to forget a name which will always be linked with the year 1892--viz. Mr. J. H. Nicholson, jun., of the firm of Messrs. Nicholson & Sons, Gosport, the successful designer of the 5-rater 'Dacia' and the 2-1/2-rater 'Gareth.' His boats are unique, and though they partake of the canoe form, still it is the shape adopted by Mr. Nicholson for his keel, and the design itself, which brought his name so prominently forward during the season of 1892 as one of the most successful designers in England. The 5-rater 'Dacia,' which he designed and built in 1892 for Mr. H. R. Langrishe, and which now belongs to Lord Dudley, proved herself far superior in all weathers to the yachts of her rating in the South. Most of the raters were designed with a square stern above water, whatever their shape might have been below; but the 'Dacia' is counter-sterned, and carries her ribbands fair from stem to taffrail, as far as can be judged from a long-distance view when she was hauled up. Whatever her length may be on the L.W.L., it must with a large crew aboard be so considerably increased as to almost make her another boat. At all events, she is a fine specimen of the advanced type of rater, and is good in all weathers. The 'Natica' and 'Red Lancer,' 5-raters by Mr. Watson and Mr. Fife, jun., must not be passed over unmentioned. Both these yachts belong to Belfast, which is at present the home of 5-rater racing. In the Clyde, where 5-tonners and 5-raters were once the fashionable classes, there is now not a single representative. The 'Red Lancer' is a fin-keel shaped vessel with great angle of sternpost, from the heel of which to the stem-head the line is run in a very easy curve. She has a very long counter, more than a third of which is submerged; but she is very pretty as a design, and though not of large displacement, is very roomy both on deck and below. She was originally fitted with a centreboard, but as it was not considered of any material benefit to her, this was taken out and the hole in the keel filled up with lead. The 'Natica' has a spoon bow, and is one of Mr. Watson's prettiest models as far as the modern racer can be termed pretty. She has been very successful in the North, and as great curiosity was felt regarding her capabilities when compared with the South-country boats, she sailed round, and met the 'Dacia' at Torquay Regatta, where the best of three matches were won by 'Dacia.' It would have been better, perhaps, had the matches taken place off Holyhead--_vide_ the case of the 'Vril,' 'Camellia,' and 'Freda'; however, there is no reason to disparage them as not giving a true indication of the respective merits of both yachts. So many races come off, both on the Solent and on the Clyde, in numerical comparison with what took place a few years ago, that the owners of small yachts rarely care now to go far away from home on the chance of obtaining sport when it lies comfortably to hand; but it is a thing to be encouraged, and when yachts have proved themselves champions in any particular waters, a trysting place should be chosen for the little winners to meet and try conclusions. This would also make yachtsmen anxious to possess not merely a racing machine, but a boat capable of going from port to port with a certain amount of comfort to her crew. [Illustration: 'Natica.' Designed by G. L. Watson, 1892.] PRACTICAL HINTS _Buying_ In choosing a yacht there is, as with most other occupations, a right and a wrong way of going about it. First of all, the size has to be determined upon; but this can soon be done by referring to the length of the purse out of which the funds for keeping the yacht in commission are to be supplied. Yachts are very much like houses, and it is quite possible to buy a yacht or a house for such an insignificantly small outlay that to all unconcerned in the bargain it will appear a ridiculously cheap purchase. But this might not really be the case, because, though the original outlay may have been small, if a large number of servants or hands are required to keep either the one or the other up, it would be dear at any price should money not be forthcoming to meet the annual expenditure. It is, therefore, necessary, before making a purchase, to look ahead at the probable annual cost. At a rough estimate it may be laid down that each extra hand required (this does not refer to those necessary on racing days) will cost at least 25_l._ per season. A skipper may for his wages, clothes, &c., make a hole in any sum from 30_l._ to 100_l._ per annum. In a 5-tonner, or a yacht of 30 feet and under, provided she has a gaff-mainsail and not a lugsail, one hand will be quite crew sufficient, with the owner, to take her about. The writer worked a 10-tonner with one hand for two seasons without finding her too heavy, but the addition of a boy made all the difference in the comfort. The cost of sails, gear, and the many small items of equipment which have to be renewed from time to time, cannot or should not be treated as if such casual expenses could only come about in some dim vista of futurity; for where in the case of sails 60_l._ might see the fortunate owner of a racing 5 in possession of a brand-new suit, the man with a 20 would find that sum barely sufficient to supply his yacht with a new mainsail and topsail. In making a purchase, it is as well if it be possible to find out what kind of a yachtsman the owner of the yacht for sale is--that is, if he is a man who has made yachts and yachting his sole hobby, and has therefore been in the habit of keeping his vessels in the best condition. It makes all the difference whether you purchase from such a man, or from one who, having extracted all the good out of his yacht's gear and sails, has placed her in the market rather than go to the expense of giving her a new fit-out. In the case of a 5-tonner the difference in price between the purchase money of vessels owned by the two men might be from 50_l._ to 80_l._ or 100_l._; but then in the case of the one there will only be one expense, viz.--that of the purchase money, whereas with the other it might be difficult to say how much might be required as outlay before the yacht could be made ready for sea. The Clyde and Southampton are the best and most likely places to find yachts for sale which have been well kept up and cared for. Buying from a thorough yachtsman who is known to spare no expense on his yacht will mean an absence of all bitterness and wrath, whereas in making the purchase from the skinflint, until a small fortune has been paid away the new owner will find that he has no satisfaction. In buying a small yacht, in fact any yacht, unless the purchaser has met with a vessel that combines all his requirements, it is always the wisest plan for him to spend as little as possible the first season on his new purchase--of course it is taken for granted that her sails and gear are in thoroughly good order--in altering any of her fittings to suit his own private fads; for if he changes his mind about his yacht's points, or sees a vessel he may like better, he should remember that he must not expect to get his money back again when wanting to sell. By the end of the first season, he will most likely have found out whether he will keep the yacht, and therefore whether she really suits him, when he can do what he likes to her. It must be borne in mind, too, that the inside fittings of a yacht's cabin form the most expensive part of her hull; and alterations below always mean a goodly expenditure. Avoid all yachts which are either coated outside or filled in at the garboards inside with cement, as water will leak in between the cement and skin, and rot must ensue. _Fitting out._ In fitting out, two very important points have to be thought of--viz., if the yacht is not coppered, what is the best paint to coat her with, and what is the best method of treating the decks? With regard to the first question, there are two paints which the writer has never yet seen used in the yachting world, except on his own boat, and which can be highly recommended. One is the black priming varnish used on iron ships, and especially in the Navy. He gave this, some years ago on the Clyde, four months' good trial. It was used on a boat kept out for winter work which lay in a little harbour well-known for its fouling propensities. At the end of the four months there was absolutely no growth or sign of weed of any kind. Where it is to be obtained he is unable to say, as the coat of paint that was put on his boat was given him by a naval officer. The other paint is called after the inventor, 'Harvey's Patent.' The writer's experience of this is as follows:--A friend sent him a tin to try, and to give his opinion upon. Accordingly his boat, which had been lying up Portsmouth Harbour some six months at her moorings, was brought down to Priddy's Hard and hauled up. She had, though coated with a very well-known patent, from 7 to 10 feet of weed floating astern of her at the time, which had to be removed. After being thoroughly cleaned, left to dry for a few days, and having her paint burnt off, a coat of priming was given, followed by two coats of the Harvey. The boat was then launched and towed back to her moorings, where she was left for over 20 months. At the end of that time she was hauled up, prior to being put into commission; and there was no sign of grass or weed; slime, with an almost imperceptible shell-fish growth, being all that was visible on her bottom. The boat was seen by a good many naval and other men during the time she was at her moorings, and they remarked on the quality of the paint. One great point about the Harvey must be mentioned, and that is, it dries very quickly when put on. It is a good thing to warm it before using, as it is apt to get hard and soak up the oil; but it soon softens, and after being properly mixed works well. Before touching the decks, the spars and blocks will always require to have the old varnish of the past season scraped off them, and will have then to be re-varnished. In scraping the spars care should be taken that the knife, scraper, or glass be drawn with, and not against, the grain of the wood. The scraping will always be achieved with greater facility if the spar or block in hand is slightly damped, and the scraper or knife-blade employed has its edge turned over a little. This latter is done by drawing the side of the edge along the back of a knife or steel tool. After scraping, the whole spar should be rubbed down with sand-paper, prior to its receiving a coat of varnish. The brushes employed should be either well-used ones, or, if new, ought to be well soaked in water prior to use, as this will prevent the bristles falling out during the process of varnishing. Nothing is so provoking as to have to be continually picking out bristles from the varnish; of course, what holds good about varnishing holds good in the matter of painting. When using copal varnish, it is as well to pour out only as much as may be wanted for the time being into an old tin or jar, because it very soon hardens on exposure to the air, and then becomes useless. For the same reason the varnish bottle or can should never be left uncorked. Two coats of varnish thinly laid on ought to suffice at the beginning of the season, and a third coat may be given as the season progresses. With regard to the decks. Everything depends on the state of the decks themselves and how they are laid. If they are made of wide planking, which is rarely, if ever, the case when the workmanship is that of a yacht-builder, they should be painted; if, however, the decks are laid with narrow planking fined off with the deck curves at the bow and stern, then, notwithstanding the beauty of white decks, it is better to varnish them. Varnishing keeps them hard, and saves many a heart pang when the little yacht is visited by a friend with nails in his boots or a lady in small heels. If the decks be worn at all, a coat of varnish is a capital thing. After trying decks varnished and unvarnished, experience confesses that the joys of beholding a white, spotless deck in a small yacht are more than outweighed by the sorrow and annoyance of seeing deep nail-marks imprinted on it. As decks, when cared for, are always varnished when a yacht is laid up for the winter, this varnish has necessarily to be removed prior to a start on a season's yachting. The best method by which this can be carried out is as follows:--Black ashes, Sooji Mooji, or one of the many preparations of caustic potash, should be procured from a ship-chandler, and mixed in an iron bucket with warm water in the proportion of one-third black ashes to two-thirds water, according to the strength required. As soon as the sun has set the mixture must be poured over the deck, which must be left well covered with it till an hour before sunrise. The mixture, which will have dried during the night, must now be treated with hot water and well rubbed into the varnish, and fresh buckets of water must be kept applied till every particle of the mixture with the varnish has been cleared off and out of the deck planking. If the mixture is applied or allowed to remain on the deck while the sun is up, it will be certain to eat into and burn it. There are two or three ways of laying decks. One is to have the planks nailed down to the beams, the nails countersunk, and the holes filled up with wood plugs to hide the nail-heads. This is generally done by men who have not had much to do with yacht-building. The common method employed is to drive the nails diagonally through the edge of the plank into the beam. Nails let in horizontally and driven into the next plank, two or three cotton threads having been placed between, keep the two planks in position. Each plank is similarly treated, and when all the planks have been fitted and jammed together, marine glue is poured into the seams. As soon as the glue has set and hardened the decks are planed, and finished off. The third method is not so pretty perhaps, but is believed from practical experience to be the best. The planks are mortised together, varnished, and then brought tight up. The whole deck is often built and made ready to fit before it is put into position, so that when it is laid on the beams, all that is required is to nail it down into its place. The writer has had experience with the second kind of deck mentioned here in nearly all of his yachts, and of the third method of laying decks in the 'Cyprus.' She was about five years old when he bought her, and that is a good age for a racing 5-tonner's decks to last sound and without a leaky spot to be found anywhere. Her decks were certainly kept varnished, for the simple reason stated above, that visitors might be always welcome, no matter what description of foot-gear had been supplied to them by their bootmakers. It is not an uncommon practice to have a yacht recoppered, though her copper may be in good condition and even new. When such a proposition is made, which is not infrequently done by skippers wishing to play into the yacht-builder's hands, and thinking more of their own pockets than their master's interests, the yachtsman must remember that every time his yacht is coppered her skin is made more porous, and she herself heavier in the water, since the planking will naturally sodden with greater rapidity. If the incipient yachtsman has bought the hull and spars of a yacht that is only partially built or finished off, a few more hints must be added, which will give him food for reflection, and may prove of service. When a yacht likely to suit has been heard of, nothing being known of the owner, the next thing should be to try to discover whether she is sound or possesses any weak places. The purchaser should overhaul her outside just below the channels, and examine if the yacht has been frequently caulked between the seams of the planking, or if there are any signs of weeps of any kind about that part or elsewhere. The weeps will be shown most likely by a rusty discolouration. If the yacht is coppered, wrinkles must be looked for under the channels, runners, and about the bilge. They will show if the yacht has been strained at all. A knife should next be taken, and the point driven into the planking about the water-line, where it joins the sternpost and stem, and then along the two lower garboard strakes, especially if cement has been used to fill in between the keel and planking, to discover if there is any sign of dry rot, sap rot, &c. Inside, under the cabin floor, the timbers, deadwoods, and the garboard strakes if the yacht be coppered, should be tested in the same way. If the yacht has iron floors, these should be carefully examined for galvanic action or decay. The heads of the bolts which go through the lead keel should be scraped to see whether they are made of iron, metal composition, or copper. If they are iron or steel, most likely they will require to be renewed, because galvanic action is very soon set up between the lead and steel. Outside, copper shows wear and tear more quickly near the stem and sternpost and along the water-line. In the cabin itself the deck ceiling should be examined for weeps and leaks, especially about the bits forward and near the mast, also wherever a bolt-head is visible. On deck, a look round the covering board will discover whether it has been often recaulked, by the seam being extra wide. The heat of a stove below is frequently the cause of the deck forward leaking. The deck seams should not be wider there than at any other part. All the spars should be examined, and if there are no transverse cracks, longitudinal ones may be held of no consequence. The weak parts of the mast are generally to be found between the yoke and cap, where the eyes of the rigging rest. Rot is often found there, and strains are met with up the masthead. The boom shows its weakness at the outer end by small cracks, and the bowsprit by the gammon iron and stem-head. If the above rough survey proves all correct, attention must be given next to the rigging, sails, and gear. Wear in the wire rigging is shown by its being rusty, the strands stretched, or by the broken threads of a strand appearing here and there. If the jib, throat, peak halliards, and mainsheet are new, or have seen the work of one season only, they will not require much overhauling. With the other running rigging the strands should be untwisted, just enough to see whether the heart of the rope is fresh and not rotten. The blocks ought to be of a light colour without cracks in them, and iron strapped inside. The sails will not show either mildew marks or discolouration if they are in good condition. The chain and anchors to be in good order should not be rusty, but clean and well galvanised. They should be looked at to discover whether they have ever been regalvanised. This will be noticed by the links presenting a rough, uneven surface, where there was rust or decay before the repetition of the process of galvanising. Sometimes at fitting-out time an owner finds that he has to provide his yacht with a new anchor. It may help him, therefore, in his choice if the writer gives his experience in the matter of ground tackle or mud-hooks. There are a number of patents in the market, the most patronised of which are Trotman's, Martin's, Smith's, and Thomas & Nicholson's. All these have many good points, with a weak one here and there to keep the competition in anchor designing open to improvement. Trotman's anchor has movable arms and stock, stows away well, and is a fine holding anchor when once it bites; but it is often very slow at catching hold, and this is dangerous when the anchorage happens to be close and crowded, as, for instance, is frequently the case at Kingstown, Cowes, &c., during regatta time. If the anchor does not catch at once on such occasions the yacht may drift some distance before she is brought up, and with little room this operation is performed, more often than not, by collision with some vessel astern. The Martin anchor and the Smith both work on a different principle from any of the others, in that their arms move together so as to allow both flukes to act at the same time. Of the two the Smith, which has no stock, is preferable for yacht work. The Martin has a stock which is fixed on the same plane with the arms. Both anchors catch quickly and hold well as long as the bottom is not rocky or very uneven, when they are apt to get tilted over and lose any hold they may have at first obtained. Their worst failing is that of coming home under the following conditions. If the yacht yaws about, owing to strong tides, winds, or boisterous weather, the flukes of the anchor are prone, when working in their holes, to make them so large that they gradually meet each other and finally become one big hole; the anchor then invariably trips, comes home, and the yacht drags. On the other hand, the Smith and Martin anchors stow away better than any others, and when on deck lie flat and compact. The Smith anchor makes a capital kedge. Its holding power is so great that it is not necessary to carry one of anything like the weight that would be required were any other patent anchor employed. The great point in favour of Smith's over that of Martin's anchor is that, should it foul a mooring or warp, it can be easily tripped. The tripping is done by letting the bight of a bowline slip down the chain and anchor till it reaches the arms, and then hauling on it. The best of the patents, however, is an anchor that was brought out some years ago by Messrs. Thomas & Nicholson, of Southampton and Gosport. It can be stowed away in a very small space, since the arms are removable. It is a quick catcher, and is, at the same time, very powerful and trustworthy. The arms stand out at the most effective angle for insuring strength of grip, while the shank is long, and, though light and neat-looking--it is flat-sided--has sufficient weight and substance in it to stand any ordinary crucial test. The flukes from their shape appear somewhat longer in proportion to their width than the usual patterns; but this arises from the sides being slightly bent back, with the object of making the fluke more penetrating, which it certainly is. The old fisherman's anchor with a movable stock is, after all, as good an anchor as any yachtsman need want. It is not a patent, and is accordingly very much less expensive. Should necessity ever compel the making of a small anchor, then the two great points which it must possess are, length of shank (because greater will be the leverage), and the placing of the arms so that they do not make a less angle with the stock than, say, 53°. After a long practical experience with almost every kind of anchor, the writer believes that two good, old-pattern fisherman's anchors, with movable stocks (the movable stock was a Mr. Rogers' patent), are all that any yacht need require or her mud-hooks; but if it is thought fit to have patent anchors, then either a couple of Thomas & Nicholson's anchors, or one of these and a Smith, ought to form the yacht's complement. All being satisfactory, if the yacht is a 5-rater the first thing to be done will be to have the lugsail altered into a gaff-mainsail for handiness sake. This will be only a small expense, since the great peak of the lugsail will allow of its head being squared. Very little if anything need be taken off the head of a high-peaked lugsail when the gaff employed is hinged on to the jaws, as such a gaff can be peaked with far greater ease and to a much greater extent than when fitted in the ordinary. The writer has employed the following method for fitting up the interior accommodation of a 5-ton yacht, and he can highly recommend it as most convenient, and at the same time handy to clear out either on a racing day or when about to lay the yacht up:--All woodwork, such as lockers or fore-and-aft boards (used for turning the sofas into lockers), should be fixed in their places by hooks, or at any rate by screws. Nothing should be a fixture except the two sofa-seats in the main cabin, the one forward of the mast, and the two sideboards fitted aft at each end of the sofas. If the yacht has to race, these sideboards should be made self-contained, and to shape, so that they may fit into their places and be kept there by hooks or catches. There should be only a curtain forward between the forecastle and main cabin, and instead of a regular solid bulkhead aft, gratings should take its place, with one wide grating as a door. This will keep the store room aft ventilated. If there is sufficient length to permit of transverse gratings about 20 inches apart and 2 feet high by the mast, as before explained when describing the 'Lorelei,' by all means let these form one of the fittings to hold the sail bags. In the locker astern of the after bulkhead gratings, the skin should be protected by battens 2-1/2 to 3 inches wide and from 1 to 2 inches apart. This will keep whatever is stowed there dry from any little weep or leakage that may occur in the planking. There should be no ceiling either in the main or fore cabin, and if battens are thought necessary to prevent damp getting to the beds when left folded up in the bed-frames, then three, or at the outside four, some 4 or 5 inches apart, should be screwed up just in the position where the shoulders of a sitter would be likely to rest against them. Four or five may be fitted up on each side of the forecastle. The upper batten should be higher up than the top one in the main cabin, as it may be useful for screwing hooks into. The writer, however, prefers in the main cabin, instead of any battens, clean pieces of duck, or, what is better still, Willesden cloth (waterproof), made to hang loosely from hooks, reaching down to the sofas, and cut to the shape of the after sideboards, holes being sewn in to allow the iron hooks which carry the bed-frames to come through. This fitting always lightens up the cabin, and is easily taken down and scrubbed. For beds, the iron frames supplied to all yachts' forecastles for the men, with canvas bottoms to them, are far the best and most comfortable. They take up less room than a hammock, and stow away nicely against the cabin's side when not in use. With these frames the writer has used quilted mattresses, the heads of which have ticking covers large enough to hold a pillow, and the whole is sewn on to strong American or waterproof cloth, which forms a covering when the bed and its blankets are rolled up and have to be stowed away. In the forecastle, a movable pantry may be screwed up against the battens on the port side (the bed will be on the starboard side). This should be an open case with three shelves and two drawers underneath. The upper shelf must be divided off to take the three sizes--dinner, soup, and small plates. Between the plates, outside the divisions, there can be uprights on which to thread double egg-cups. On the lower shelf there should be holes cut to carry tumblers, and between the tumblers slots for wineglasses. The bottom shelf is for cups and saucers. One of the drawers ought to be lined with green baize to hold silver plate and knives. If the sideboards aft are fixtures, a tin case made to the shape of the yacht's side, to rest on the part of the sideboard on which the lid hinges, and reaching up to the deck, is a capital fitting to have. The inside should be arranged in partitions to hold tea, coffee, sugar, biscuit, and other square canisters, also Dutch square spirit bottles. The door may be double, or if single, should open from the bottom and trice up to a hook overhead, so that it may not in any way hinder the opening of the sideboard lid at the same time. Two or three movable shelves placed right in the eyes of the yacht forward make useful stowage room for a man to keep his clothes, as there they stand less chance of getting wet. Between the sideboards aft a removable box ought to be fixed with screws, of sufficient depth to hold an iron bucket, washing basin, and all the conveniences of a lavatory. This will be directly under the cabin hatch, and from 8 to 10 inches abaft it. The lid should leave a few inches space clear to receive it when opened back. Curtains made of duck or Willesden cloth, to hang down loose over the sideboards at each side to the depth of 6 inches, and hung from hooks in the deck above, will be found useful for keeping all stray splashes, that may fall inboard, from going on the sideboard lids, and thence among the dry goods and provisions stowed away in them. At the back of the lavatory box will be the after-grating and locker, and standing out from the grating, about 10 inches to a foot square, and 15 to 18 inches deep from the deck, there should be a cupboard, painted white inside, or, better still, lined with copper silver-plated to reflect the light, and a transparent spirit compass should then be fitted to hang through the deck above it. The brass rim for carrying the gimbles and binnacle lid outside must be screwed down to the deck on doubled india-rubber to prevent leakage. The cupboard door must have ventilating holes in it at the top and bottom, and a square hole to hold the lamp should be cut in the door between the upper and lower ventilators. On the opposite side from that on which the tin case is fixed, and coming out from the grating the same distance as the compass box, two bookshelves can be fitted, which will prove most useful. On deck, the fittings and leads that are mentioned in the description of the 'Cyprus' cannot be improved upon, except that rigging screws are neater, and give less trouble than dead-eyes and lanyards, which have to be continually set up. Lanyards, however, give more life to a mast, though it may appear almost imperceptible, and by so doing ought to render it less liable to be carried away. The sliding lid of the companion hatch should padlock on to a transverse partition between the combings, and it is a good plan to have this partition on hinges, so that at night, when the hatch-cover is drawn over, the partition may lie on the deck and so leave an aperture for ventilation. The windows of the skylight will be all the better for being fixtures and should not open; if ventilation be required, the whole skylight can be taken off; this will prevent the leakage so common with hinged windows. A mainsheet horse and traveller with two quarter leading blocks are better than a double block shackled on to an eyebolt amidships, because a more direct up and down strain can be obtained when the boom is well in. In any yacht of 25 feet in length or under, the wisest plan to adopt with regard to a forehatch is to do away with it and only have a large screw deadlight; if a small deadlight be preferred, then it ought to be placed about 12 to 18 inches ahead of the bits, and a copper cowl, to screw into the deadlight frame, should form part of the fittings, for use when the yacht is laid up, in order to let air into and so ventilate the cabin. It is certainly a great advantage to have the spinnaker ready in the forecastle for sending up through a hatch, but as this is the only good reason why a hatch should be thought requisite in a small yacht, and since it is a fruitful source of leakage and danger, especially when, as is sometimes the case, the lid has not been fastened down and a sea sweeps it off the deck, it is better to abolish the fitting altogether. A small rail ahead of the mast, bolted through the deck and stayed to the mast below (in order to take off all weight from the deck and beams), and a rail abreast of the lee and weather rigging, should form all that is required for belaying halliards, purchases, tacks, &c. In most of the 5- and 2-1/2-raters the halliard for the lugsail is led below the deck, and the purchase is worked by taking turns round a small mast-winch in the cabin. It is a great advantage to have a clear deck free from ropes, and it would be a saving of labour to have all a cutter's purchases led below to a winch. For a small yacht it is as well to have the jib, throat, and peak halliards of four-strand Manilla rope, but wire topsail halliards are a very decided improvement on hemp or Manilla. Wire has little or no stretch in it, and a topsail halliard is the last rope a seaman cares to disturb after it has once been belayed, it may be to lower and take in the sail. All purchases ought to be made of European hemp-rope, with the exception of that attached to the copper rod bobstay. All headsheets should lead aft and belay on cleats bolted on to the combing of the cockpit. It is becoming the custom to have all the bowsprit fittings fixtures. A steel or copper rod from the stem to the cranze iron at the bowsprit end serves as a bobstay, which, with the shrouds, are screwed up with rigging screws. No such thing as reefing, or bringing the useless outside weight of the spar inboard, is thought of by many racing men now-a-days. Fiddle-headed and spoon bows have introduced this fashion, but 14 to 16 feet of a 5-1/2-inch spar is no trifle to have bobbing into seas, and making the boat uneasy, when half the length, or less, would be quite sufficient to carry all the jib that can be set. No bowsprit belonging to a straight-stemmed cutter should be a fixture, and the best and neatest fitting for the bobstay is a rod with a steel wire purchase at the end. The shrouds should be in two lengths of wire shackled together, as in topmast backstays, and, leading through the bulwark, should screw up to bolts in the deck especially formed to take a horizontal strain. Selvagee strops can be used for setting up the intermediate lengths. If the eyes of the rigging are covered with leather which has not been painted, then the bight of each eye ought to be left standing in a shallow dish of oil. The leather will thus soak itself, and the oiling will preserve it from perishing. In sending up rigging it must always be remembered that the lengths of the port and starboard rigging are arranged so as to allow of the starboard fore rigging being placed into position first, then that to port, the starboard backstay rigging going up next, followed by that to port, after which the eye of the forestay will go over the masthead and will rest on the throat halliard eyebolt in the masthead. All block-hooks should be moused. A mousing is made by taking two or three turns of spunyarn round the neck and lip of the hook followed by a cross turn or two to finish off. This prevents the hook from becoming disengaged. In some yachts double topmasts and double forestays are used. The former are only fitted where the yacht carries two sizes of jib-topsail, one for reaching and the other for beating to windward. Whilst one is up, the other can be hooked on, so that no time need be lost in setting. A medium-sized sail, however, capable of being used for reaching or beating, is all that is really required. The shifting of two jib-topsails entails the presence for some time of one man at least forward on the bowsprit end, and the less the men are forward of the mast the better, if it is desired to get the best work out of a small yacht, and the yacht herself is in proper trim. There is more to be said, however, in favour of double forestays, since they allow of a foresail being sent up whilst another is already set and drawing, and the work is done inboard, while the difference between a working and a balloon foresail is far greater than in that of two jib-topsails. The writer has never used double forestays, but he believes so thoroughly in the foresail, as a sail, that he has always carried three--a working, reaching, and a balloon. He has the luff of each foresail fitted with loops at regular intervals, after the manner of gaiter lacings, otherwise called 'lacing on the bight.' These are made either of light wire or small roping. The upper loop reaches down to the next below it, so that the loop below may be passed through, and so on, till the tack is reached. When setting a foresail the upper loop is passed over the forestay before the lower one is threaded through it, and so on with all the loops in turn. The tack has a single part, which, after it has been passed through the lowest loop, is made fast to the tack-downhaul. When shifting foresails, the sail is lowered, tack let go, and the lacing comes away by itself; then the new sail can be hooked on to the halliards and laced to the forestay as quickly as it can be hauled up. When the sea is smooth there may be no necessity for unlacing the working foresail should the shift have to be made from that sail, especially if it has soon to be called into use again. The above method will be found far superior to that of hanks, which are always getting out of order and not infrequently refuse to do their duty altogether. In mentioning the shifting of sails, there is one point to which nothing like sufficient attention is paid, and that is to the lead of sheets. Many a good jib has been destroyed and pulled out of shape through a bad lead, and more than one race has been lost through the bad lead of a reaching or balloon foresail sheet. When jibs or foresails are changed, the greatest care should be taken to see that the leads told off for their sheets are really fair--that is, that the pull on the sheet does not favour the foot more than the leach of the sail, or _vice versâ_. In the case of a balloon-foresail its sheet leads outside the lee rigging and belays somewhere aft. The man attending the sheet should take it as far aft as a direct strain will permit, and not belay it to the first cleat that comes to hand; otherwise the sail will simply prove a windbag taking the yacht to leeward rather than ahead. There is a fitting which must not be passed over that is now almost universally adopted on large yachts, but is equally important on small ones--that is, an iron horse at the main-boom end for the mainsail outhaul to travel on. It was originally invented by that most skilful helmsman Mr. W. Adams, of Greenock, to obviate a difficulty so common in square stern boats with booms stretching to _n_ length over the transom. He fitted the boom of his little racing boat with a horse, which came from the boom end to within easy reach for unhooking the clew of the sail, and so saved the trouble of having to use a dinghy for the purpose. The idea was soon taken up by Clyde yachtsmen, for it was found so much easier to get the mainsail out on the boom than with the traveller working on the boom itself. Whilst on a subject connected with mainsails, the writer can recommend for the gaff and head of the mainsail, instead of the ordinary long rope lacing commonly in use, separate stops or seizings to each eyelet-hole. The seizing can be done in half the time it takes to properly lace the head of the sail to the spar; it looks quite as well and does its work better. For fastening the luff of the mainsail to the mast-hoops, instead of seizings he has used hanks, and has found them very handy and neat. The hanks used are riveted on to the mast-hoops. He has now had them in constant use for over twelve years, and has never had occasion to find any fault whatever with them. In one yacht he kept two mainsails in use for cruising and racing, and thus preserved the racing mainsail in good condition for a considerably longer period than would otherwise have been the case, and with the fittings just named the shift of sails was a small matter. Topsails, perhaps, are the sails which require renewing more frequently than any other, as they get out of shape so quickly if very much is demanded from them. For a small yacht, if she carries a topmast, three topsails are a sufficient outfit. They should be a jibheader, a gaff, and a balloon or jackyarder. One yard ought to serve for both the gaff and jackyard topsail, and these sails should be made the same length on the head. This will save having to carry about a deckload of timber. OUTFIT It is frequently a question of great moment, what kind and what amount of outfit it is necessary to take away on a summer's cruise, and the writer finds it a great convenience to keep a list of everything that goes to form not only his sea kit, but stores and necessaries as well. Such a list prevents one from forgetting small necessaries. A small air-tight 'uniform tin case' and a painted seaman's bag are the best equipment for carrying clothes. The lists are as follows:-- FIRST LIST: THE KIT The tin case holds-- A dress suit and shoes A shore-going suit 3 linen shirts 6 collars White ties Gloves Ink, blotting paper, paper and envelopes Mr. Lloyd's Euxesis As may be seen, the tin box only contains the shore-going outfit. The Euxesis mentioned is for those who shave, as with it there is no need of hot water to perform the operation. In the bag should be-- 4 flannel shirts 2 pairs of flannel pygamas 1/2 doz. pairs of socks, 2 pairs of which should be thick 2 pairs of thick warm stockings 1 pair of warm slippers 2 pairs of common blue india-rubber solid shoes 1 pair of brown leather shoes 2 blue guernseys, hand knit 4 bath towels and 1/2 doz. others Sponge bag Dressing case 1 suit of thick pilot cloth 1 old pair of thick blue trousers 1 large thick square comforter 1 common serge suit 1 pair of mittens 1 pair of tanned leather boots For comfort in a small yacht it is impossible to do with less. Of course it may be thought foolish taking the tin case stocked as it is, but experience has taught that even in the wildest and most out-of-the-way spots occasions arise when all pleasure is spoiled by not having the evening change of kit at hand. SECOND LIST: GROCERIES, ETC. Matches 1/2 doz. boxes of floats for oil lamp 1/2 doz. boxes of night-lights 6 lbs. of candles 8 to the lb. and 2 bedroom candlesticks 1 doz. tins of unsweetened tinned milk 1 lb. of tea 1/2 doz. coffee and milk in tins 1/2 doz. tins of chocolate and milk Plate powder Varnish for yellow leather shoes Corkscrew Sardine-box opener 3-lb. tin of marmalade Pepper Mustard Jar of salt 1 doz. tins of sardines 3 tins of herring à la sardines 2 lb. captain's biscuits 1 doz. packages of jelly powder 6 doz. tinned soups Soap, 1 bar of common brown Soap, 1 bar of scented Wicks for stoves Plate, clothes, and boot brushes 2 chamois leathers. Cheese, butter, bread, 1/2 loaf per diem per man THIRD LIST: YACHT NECESSARIES Marlinespike Pricker Mop and twiddlers Hatchet Heavy hammer Small hammer Screw-driver Gimlet Bradawl Pincers Brass screws Copper nails Brass hooks 1 tin of black paint 1 tin of Harvey's Anti-fouling Paint 1 tin of Copal varnish Spare shackles, clip hooks, hooks and thimbles 1 4-lb. lead and line 1 can of methylated spirits 1 can of mineral oil 1 can of colza oil _Lamp_ showing red, white, or green, as required Riding light Binnacle and light 1 small-sized patent log 20 fathoms of Kaia grass warp 1 tail 4-in. block 2 spare blocks with hooks or thimbles 1 canvas bucket, medium size 1 iron bucket 2 brass holders for oil glass lamp, and to hold tumbler if required for flowers 4 thick common cups and saucers 1/2 doz. tumblers 1/2 doz. wineglasses 3 sodawater tumblers 1/2 doz. enamel plates 1/2 doz. enamel soup plates 2 enamel slop basins 2 enamel flat dishes 1 enamel double vegetable dish 1 deep dish for stews, &c. 3 tablespoons 3 table forks 3 table knives 1/2 doz. small forks 1/2 doz. dessert spoons 1/2 doz. teaspoons 1/2 doz. small knives Fish knife and fork 2 kitchen knives and forks 2 kitchen table- and 2 teaspoons Binocular glasses Parallel rulers Compasses Isle of Man almanac Charts: Irish Sea, West Scotland, English Channel, &c. Books of sailing directions Channel pilot Flags: Club Burgee, Pilot Jack, and Ensign. The Pilot Jack is useful in case a pilot be required, and the Ensign to hoist upside down in case of distress, or in the rigging as a protest when racing Fishing tackle Medicine:-- Brandy Friar's balsam Lint Bottle of Condy's fluid Carlsbad salts [Illustration: COMMERCIAL CODE OF SIGNALS. _Code Signal._ _When used as the Code Signal this Pennant is to be hoisted under the Ensign._] Such lists as are given above should be kept in a small book labelled 'Fitting-out Necessaries,' because they save much time at that season, and all alterations in them that experience dictates should be noted before or at the period of laying the yacht up. _Racing._ The yacht, let it be supposed, is fitted out. She has a racing outfit, and was the crack boat of the past season. There is a smart young fellow engaged to look after her, and the only thing that remains to be settled now is the question--Shall I give myself up to racing or shall I cruise this year? If it is to be racing, here are two or three words of advice well worth noting. The first is, never pinch the yacht when sailing on a wind. Always keep a clean full and bye--_i.e._ the yacht must be headed, as near as she will go, to the point whence the wind is blowing, but the sails must be kept well full. Then the yacht will travel. Do not, because some other yachts seem to be lying closer to the wind, try to make the little vessel head in the same direction, if she will not do so without her sails shaking. Many races are lost through this form of bad sailing. The next point to be noted is, 'mind your jibsheet.' No sheet requires such tender handling. The foresheet can be left to a tiro. All he has to do when on a wind is to take and harden in all he can, and belay. The mainsheet can also be hauled in pretty close; but when that is all done, the sailing-master must not think that he can go any closer to the wind by treating his jibsheet after the same simple fashion; for if he does he will find himself very much at fault, as it will take all the life out of the yacht, and the jib will make her bury her head in the seas. He will only stop his ship. The best plan to adopt is to get the sheet in before the yacht's head is pointed as close as it will go to the wind, and then check out inch by inch till the luff of the sail near the tack has a slight inclination to lift. At first, it is somewhat astonishing to see how much jibsheet a vessel will stand when close hauled. Pinning in the sheet tends to stop the boat, whilst, on the other hand, giving her as much as she can stand will make her fairly jump ahead. The helmsman who knows his duties ought to keep an eye open for this, and watch, in the excitement of going about or hauling round a buoy, that the poor jibsheet is not pinned in or unfairly treated. Another piece of advice is about that other jib and yachtsman's friend, called the spinnaker. Of the two jibs, this latter suffers most at the hands of the racing sailing-master. When he sees his antagonist carrying his spinnaker with the boom right forward on the bow, only too frequently does he leave his up with the boom in the same position, too fearful lest, should he take his in, or shift it to the bowsprit end, the other yacht may steal an advantage over him. The writer has seen more than one race lost through this hanging on to the boomed-out spinnaker too long. It is a safe and wise plan to take the sail in as soon as the wind obliges the boom to be pointed forward at an angle very much under a right angle to the beam. Some years ago this was brought before the writer's notice in a clear, unmistakable way. He happened to be on the Breakwater at Plymouth on a Regatta day, when the yachts were making the harbour. They were running with the wind right aft and their booms squared off. As each yacht neared the Breakwater, the wind came round gradually on the beam, and one by one the spinnaker-booms were allowed to go right over the bow to an acute angle with the bowsprit. The spinnakers were certainly all kept full, but as each yacht's after-guy was checked, she gradually ceased to travel and almost stopped dead. Her spinnaker bellied against the topmast stay and forestay, and formed at once a backsail, if anything. Those on board a yacht do not notice the faults of the moment so quickly as those looking on, and only when the race is over does the sailing-master regret that he has not acted differently. Frequently since then has the writer, having taken note of what he saw, managed to make up a considerable amount of time by having the courage to take in his spinnaker as soon as it refused to stand without the boom going well forward. If the balloon-foresail jib and jib-topsails sheets are ready belayed, so that the sails may take the weight of the wind as soon as the spinnaker is taken in, there will be no fear whatever of the yacht losing ground, but rather she will spring into life, and most likely leave her antagonists behind. The method adopted by American yachtsmen for setting the spinnaker has many points in its favour. Instead of bringing the tack close in to the mast, the sail is taken outside the forestay and the tack downhaul belayed on the opposite side to which the sail is set. By setting the sail in this way the back draught from it goes into the jib-topsail and balloon-jib, so keeping them full and drawing. The spinnaker boom can also be allowed to range further forward on the bow than under our system. In hoisting the spinnaker it will be found a great saving of labour to send it up in stops ready for breaking out when the pull at the outhaul is taken. It can be stopped up before the race begins. When running before the wind, it is no uncommon sight to see all hands sent aft, and as many as possible on the counter. Now there is a vast amount of 'follow my leader' in this practice. Because one crack yacht does well under this trim, therefore others are supposed to steer and sail better with the weight aft too, so that when witnessing a number of yachts sailing before the wind with spinnaker set, frequently yacht after yacht may be seen struggling along with her taffrail about level with the water, and the whole counter being sucked back by the wave raised in the yacht's run. Some yachts are bad to steer when running; this is, to say the least of it, a fault or gross peculiarity in their design, for there is no use in the helm unless it is answered, and to help to keep boats steady all available weight is fleeted aft. These must, therefore, bear the penalty and lose ground on this particular point of sailing; but there are others with fine runs, which require no weight aft, and placing weight there causes the counter to go into the water and lie flat on it. These would steer equally well with the weight forward of the helmsman, and instead of being kept back by the drag put upon them, would leave their heavy-quartered rivals away in the rear. 'Keep the counter as much as possible out of water' is a maxim to be laid to heart by all, on all points of sailing. Of course, in yachts designed to have part of the counter immersed, the maxim applies only to that part above water. A fine run is a most valuable form for a vessel large or small, especially when sailing on any point with the wind abaft the beam; and the man who is wise will do his best to keep it fine, in order that the water may be left clean and without so much as a ripple. Before naming good cruising grounds and touching on cruising, just a word must be said about dinghies. A dinghy is a big piece of furniture for a small yacht, and at times becomes almost a white elephant, especially if the yacht has to make passages or go foreign. The writer has no hesitation in recommending the Berthon dinghy as the most useful, compact, and stow-awayable of any at present in use. After having had practical experience of nearly all sizes of Mr. Berthon's boats, from the 40-ft. launch supplied to the Navy down to the small 7-ft. dinghy, the size found to be most useful is the boat of 8 feet in length. A boat of 7 feet which he has, and which has been in use for fifteen years in all parts of the world, is a most clever little contrivance. She has carried on many occasions two big men with a portmanteau and other baggage, and when sitting on the bottom boards is hard to capsize--in fact, she has never turned turtle as yet. She is very easy to pull and light to carry, but is a little too small to ask a lady to take passage in. The odd foot, however, makes a great difference. A 9-ft. boat was the lifeboat complement of the 'Cyprus,' and this is the largest size of any real value to a small yacht, as the larger boats take too long to open out, and when in the water, unless well filled up and almost brought down to the gunwale, are too light to pull against a head wind. The 9-ft. boat is sometimes difficult to move when it is blowing very hard from the quarter to which it is desired to go, but this occurs seldom, and she is opened out so easily that there may be a question whether a 9-ft. boat might not be, after all, the best to have. The boats will stand any amount of sea, and they travel under sail or oar propulsion, when not too much pressed, very dry and easily. Should the canvas happen to get cut, the best stitch with which to sew up the wound is that known as the 'Cobbler's.' An awl is required to make the holes for the stitches and a couple of ends similar to those used by a cobbler. This stitch is not so likely to tear the canvas, and brings it closer together than the sailmaker's stitch called 'herring-boning,' which is no use at all for making a water-tight mend. The outer skin may want a coat of paint once a year, and if so, the paint should be mixed up with boiled oil; then, when it is put on, the canvas will remain flexible and will not harden up and crack. Mr. Berthon supplies a special paint for his boats, but it is not always procurable, and any paint mixed with boiled oil will serve the purpose. _Cruising._ Fitted out with an old 5-tonner, or a yacht about the size already recommended, the whole world lies before the cruising yachtsman. She can easily be shipped on board a steamer, and can, for the sum of 50_l._ to 70_l._ or less, be launched off New York, whence there is nothing to hinder a most enjoyable cruise on the lakes (which can be reached by canal) or in the vicinity of Long Island, and along the coast. Racing can be done in the American waters should it so please the voyageur, and a hearty welcome will be met with wherever he goes. There is great scope for cruising and racing in Australia and New Zealand (as set forth at length in another chapter); but the expenses of shipping and taking out the yacht will not be much less than 100_l._ Sydney Harbour and Port Phillip are both great yachting centres, while the coast of New Zealand is a complete network of bays, inland seas, and natural harbours. The Mediterranean is a much puffed-up yachtsman's cruising ground, but during the best time of year, which is winter, it is as nasty and treacherous an expanse of water as it is possible to meet with in any part of the world. In the summer the great drawback there is lack of wind during the daytime, and calms prevail most days of the week. Among the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, however, and off the coast of Asia Minor, a breeze is always certain to spring up after sunset. There is no difficulty in reaching the Mediterranean, as a yacht drawing 5 to 6 feet can go through France by canal without any trouble, or else she can sail round. Five-tonners, it must be remembered, are serviceable for an ocean cruise should it be necessary, as has already been shown in two cases. There are cruising grounds on the West Coast of Scotland which may well make yachtsmen in England envious, and some lovely harbours and rivers along the South Coast of England, which would delight the heart of many a Clyde yachtsman, whilst Ireland, on her West and South coasts, has very beautiful and well-sheltered bays. To a yachtsman who lives in the South, and to whom time is an object, the best plan to adopt, if a Scotch cruise be on the cards, is either to put the yacht on a truck and send her up to Gourock, or ship a second hand for the trip and let the men sail her round. Of the two ways, the latter is much to be preferred, since it will cost less money, and the yacht will not be so likely to get knocked about. If time permitted, the owner might meet the yacht at Kingstown, near Dublin. This is always a good starting point, as he can make for Campbeltown, in Cantyre, stay a night there, and go on to Gourock Bay, near Greenock, which he should make his base of operations, and where he should pick up a mooring if possible rather than drop his own anchor. If St. George's Channel is to be the cruising ground, then Kingstown, Belfast (Bangor Bay), or the Sloyne (Liverpool) are the best ports to start from. Between Belfast and Kingstown the yachtsman will find Loch Strangford (although it has strong tides), Ardglass, and Carlingford Lough, with little Howth, all places worth peeping into; and a run over to the Isle of Man will well repay any time taken up in a visit. The best ports in the island are Ramsey and Douglas, and of the two Ramsey is to be preferred, because the yacht can always lie at anchor, and it is well sheltered from all winds with any westing in them; but Douglas ought not to be left out on that account, and the yacht, when there, should be sailed up the harbour, where she will have to take the ground. It is a first-rate place to clean a yacht's copper, as there is something in the mud which is very conducive to brightening up the metal. Peel can be seen by crossing the island. Castletown, also, is a very quaint old town, and coaches run regularly between it and Douglas. Anyone visiting the Isle of Man ought to read Sir Walter Scott's novel 'Peveril of the Peak,' for the main portion of the story lies at Peel and Castletown. If interest is taken in iron and smelting works, from Douglas to Barrow is about 70 miles; but as the roughest sea in the Channel is met with on a line between Mougold Head (between Douglas and Ramsey) and Liverpool, where the north and south currents meet, perhaps it will be as well, unless the weather be favourable, to keep clear of that part of the English coast. Kingstown itself is the finest artificial harbour in the world, and to anyone anchoring there for the first time there will be found plenty to occupy at least a week. The clubs are most hospitably inclined, and Dublin being so near makes it a very pleasant spot to frequent. For the South of Ireland, Queenstown must be the centre from which to work. There are good fishing and lovely bays all round the coast westward, and nothing can equal Bantry Bay, with Glengariff, which are practically land-locked. The Shannon and West are in no way inferior to the South coast, and there are many nooks and anchorages, too numerous to mention here, where a yacht such as the one described can very comfortably lie, fearless of ocean billows. Now and then seals are to be met with on the West coast, and care should be taken to avoid rowing into any of the numerous caves, which abound round that coast, and are frequented by them, when the tide is on the rise and at three-quarters flood; more than one shooting party has been caught in a trap through the egress having been blocked up. The North coast is a wild one; but there, again, Port Rush and Londonderry are very safe, and Port Rush is an especially snug little harbour. Care should be taken to work Rathlin Island Sound with the tide, whichever way it is wished to sail, as the tide rush there is very strong. Between Rathlin and Belfast are bays, each of which has its small tidal harbour, and, if the weather is threatening, the distances between them are so short that opportunities can be snatched for going from one to the other. Larne itself is a fine harbour. Coming from the North to the South of England, a yacht of 30 ft. and 5 ft. 6 in. draught can be taken by train and launched with the greatest ease in Southampton Dock, and Southampton being so near London makes it the rendezvous of many cruising yachts. A good cruise from there is to run across to Havre (Rouen is easily reached by train from Havre, and well worth a visit), thence to Cherbourg, thence through the Alderney Race, between Cape La Hogue and the back of Sark, to Guernsey. At Guernsey the yacht's copper should be cleaned, if necessary. It is the best harbour in the English Channel for scrubbing the bottom, as there is good mud and a capital supply of running water close and handy at low water. From Guernsey, weather permitting, with the aid of a fisherman or pilot, the yacht can be taken across to Sark one day and to Herm another. Sark is one of the loveliest and most picturesque islands on our coasts. Any trip to Jersey ought to be made by steamer, as it is an abominable harbour for a yacht, the rise and fall of the tide being over 40 feet. The next sea run may be to Falmouth, thence to Fowey, Polperro (this port had better not be entered except by dinghy, but it is a very quaint little fishing village and not much frequented except by trawlers), Looe (this is an open anchorage), and Plymouth. All these places have beautiful rivers, with the exception of Polperro, and the Fal and Tamar are both navigable at high water some considerable distance up. Leaving Plymouth, the yacht might very well touch at the mouth of the Yalme, and the dinghy be rowed up the river. Salcomb and Dartmouth should not be left out, and both have rivers, the heads of which should be seen. Dartmouth is a well-known yachting station, and its club is very prettily situated, so that the members have a full view of the anchorage. The tide there is strong, and two anchors will prove better than one. Torbay comes next in order, working back to Southampton, with Brixham and Torquay; both so often described that it would be wasting space to add anything to what has already been said. The only gauntlets to be run are West Bay, which can be very troublesome at times, and the Race off Portland Bill, which can generally be avoided by hugging the shore of the Bill. Weymouth, again, requires no words of encomium. It is as well to anchor off Portland or go right up Weymouth Harbour, where the yacht will have to take the ground. From Weymouth to Swanage is an afternoon's sail, but it is scarcely worth while going into the bay, unless the weather is boisterous from the west or south-west, when the yacht will find a very good berth free from the turmoil of the elements. There is a race off St. Alban's Head, which can always be avoided by keeping well out a couple of miles. When Swanage has been left behind, the course should be steered for the Needles. Once inside the Solent, Yarmouth in the Isle of Wight, and Lymington on the Hampshire coast, Cowes, Ryde, Bembridge, and Portsmouth all open up ports and land, not only different in scenery from any that is visible in the North, but spots and localities interesting on account of the history attached to them. The Dutch coast with its canals, Norway with its fiords, and Sweden with its canal running from Christiania to Stockholm, all merit a description did these pages permit, and are well worth the time taken up in a summer cruise; but whichever way the yacht's head may be turned, or whatever seas may be chosen to be cruised over, the following few hints may prove serviceable. In cruising along an unknown coast, it is always well to keep a good look out for buoys or boats at anchor inshore. It may be a great help in cheating tides. For instance if the yacht is struggling against a strong tide, an inshore eddy may be discovered from the way the boats are lying, and so, by making use of it, a long journey may be shortened and time saved. Barges and coasters, especially small ones, should be watched. They, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, know the tides, currents, and eddies thoroughly, and the best course to be steered from one point to another. If a short cut can be taken, the coaster is sure to know it, and he can be followed through narrow channels with the greatest safety. A coaster rarely draws less than 6 feet when full up with cargo, or a barge less than 4 to 5 feet. When sailing along the bight of a bay, with the wind off the shore and close-hauled, because in the bight itself the wind may come off a point or so free, the yacht's sheets should not therefore be checked, but she should be still kept a clean full and bye; for, as the further point of the bay is reached, the wind will be sure to head and come off the land, and instead of being able to round the head close in shore, most likely the yacht will have to be kept away, and much valuable time and distance lost. When passing high land, with the wind off the shore, care should be exercised should a gully, valley, or ravine open out, for fear a sudden squall may take the yacht aback, and a topsail and topmast be sent flying. The wind is very much influenced by the lay of the land, not only in the matter of the direction in which it blows, but also the power of its gusts. Regard should always be paid, on entering land-locked waters from the open sea, to the force of the wind. Many open-sea sailors, from being accustomed to a fair amount of wave disturbance whenever the wind has any strength in it, are misled when sailing in enclosed lochs by the smoothness of the water, and so, misjudging the force of the wind, are apt to carry on longer than is desirable, to the danger of spars. When cruising in the vicinity of yachts racing, the yacht should be kept well out of the way to leeward; and if by chance she happens to find herself to windward of an approaching racing yacht, her head should be turned in whatever direction will seem the best for not taking the wind out of the racer's sails. When coming to in unknown or any other roads or anchorage, the prevailing wind should not be forgotten, and the spot chosen for letting go the killick should be one from which a speedy retreat can be made should necessity compel. An outside berth in a close-crowded anchorage is therefore always the safest, though, perhaps, not always the most agreeable. The writer hopes that these few wrinkles may prove as serviceable to the readers of these pages as they have been from time to time to himself. It must be remembered that, when the yachtsman is caught out in a breeze of wind and is obliged to take in a couple of reefs in the mainsail, house his topmast, and shift his jibs, it does not necessarily mean the presence of 'great guns.' It takes very little wind to raise a sea in the channels round our coasts, and to make the small yachtsman sniff a hurricane. In order, therefore, to become accurate about the force of the wind or sea, the writer recommends the 'Meteorological Notes,' supplied (at 5_s._ per annum) by Mr. Scott from the Meteorological Office, London, as being most useful for the purpose, and most interesting for reference. His principle is to have the papers sent to his home address, where they remain till the yacht's return to lay up. Then the log or note-book is brought out, notes of the dates on which he relieved his bark and had been more severely knocked about than usual are referred back to, and a very fair idea as to the true local weather is obtained. A knowledge of wind and weather is soon acquired thus. [Illustration: In the Channel.] CHAPTER XIII YACHT INSURANCE BY G. L. BLAKE A book on yachting would not be complete without a few words relating to yacht insurance. There are hundreds of owners who never think of taking out a Marine policy on their boats, simply because they do not know how easy it is; twenty-five years ago indeed only a few insured because it was not generally understood that Lloyd's Agents were willing to underwrite their names against all yachting risks. All yachts should be insured, and therefore the writer will endeavour to explain some of the special clauses contained under a yachting policy. The ordinary form for a Marine policy, printed and supplied by Government prior to August 1887, is in the main only suitable for merchant shipping; hence clauses have to be added to make that form of service in the case of yachts. Thus the time and dates between which the policy is to hold good must be stated, after which should come what may be called the-- No. 1 Yachting Clause, taking in the following conditions under which Lloyd's hold themselves liable. It runs thus:-- In port and at sea, in docks and graving docks, and on ways, gridirons, and pontoons, and / or on the mud, and / or hard, at all times, in all places, and on all occasions, services and trades whatsoever and wheresoever, under steam or sail, with leave to sail with or without pilots, to tow and assist vessels or craft in all situations, and to be towed, and to go trial trips. Including all risks and accidents arising from navigation by steam or otherwise. To include the risk of launching. No. 2 Yachting Clause should allow the yacht to 'touch and stay at any ports or places whatsoever and wheresoever, and for any and all purposes.' The No. 3 Yachting Clause makes the liability cover the hulls, spars, sails, materials, fittings, boats (including launch, steam or otherwise, if any), &c. The No. 4 Yachting Clause is a promise to return a certain sum for every fifteen consecutive days cancelled, and for every fifteen consecutive days laid up dismantling, overhauling, repairing, altering, or fitting out. No. 5 the Collision Clause. No. 6 the Twenty-pound Clause. No. 7 the Prevention Clause, No. 1. No. 8 the Prevention Clause, No. 2. With regard to the main clauses of the original Government form, it will be specially noticed that not one makes it necessary for the owner or skipper, or whoever may be in charge of the yacht, to be the holder of a Board of Trade Certificate. Then, after enumerating all the perils from which a vessel may run the risk of total loss, the form finishes up by stating that where only partial damage takes place, the underwriters are ready to pay an average for the repair of such damage at the rate of 3 per cent. That is to say, supposing a 10-tonner is insured at 900_l._ and she splits her mainsail and carries away her mast, which in its fall smashes up the boat, the policy will cover up to 27_l._ of the average value only, and the difference between that and the true value will become a loss to the insurer. This is known as the Average Clause. To enable the insurer to claim on a partial loss to the full amount of that loss the Twenty-pound Clause is added, and for this in all policies over the value of 700_l._ a small extra premium has to be paid. This clause is decidedly in favour of the man who insures a large yacht, but is of little use to the owner of a small craft. In the first place, it leaves the underwriters liable only for losses above the value of 20_l._ and nothing under. It must be remembered that the general casualties on board a cruising yacht, _when cruising only_, are the carrying away of a bowsprit or topmast, the splitting of a topsail or spinnaker jib, and the whole lot would have to come to grief in a 10-tonner, for instance, before the owner would find his bill for damages sufficiently large to present to the underwriters for payment. With a 60-ton yacht it would be otherwise, as a topmast and topsail would alone run into 20_l._; so it follows that the larger the yacht the more advantageous will be the addition of the Twenty-pound Clause, since the less will be the difficulty to make out a claim for a sum above that amount. In a small 5-ton yacht for which the policy need not exceed 500_l._, the addition of this clause naturally lies in favour of the underwriters, for it is next to impossible for the yacht to receive such damage as will necessitate the outlay of 20_l._ to put her all to rights again. That is, such a catastrophe as must happen to oblige such an expenditure does not occur to one small yacht in a thousand, unless it brings with it at the same time very nearly, if not altogether, total loss. Some agents, however, are willing to lower the twenty and make the clause ten pounds, but of course this risk will mean again a slight extra payment. It is better for the small yacht-owner to pay for a ten-pound clause than have an extra clause which will be of no practical use to him. The No. 1 Yachting Clause contains some very useful matter. A few years ago, for example, a 20-tonner left by the tide high and dry on the mud at one of our West of England ports, with a leg at each side to support her (her copper required cleaning), fell over and was considerably damaged. On the owner, who had insured his yacht at the beginning of the season, claiming for the damage she had sustained, the claim was disallowed, and after the powers that be had been invoked, the case was given against the owner, the accident not having taken place on the high seas. The form under which the 20-tonner was insured could not have contained the No. 1 Yachting Clause, otherwise the claim would have been in favour of the owner. All contingencies of that kind are met under this clause. The No. 2 Yachting Clause allows the yacht to voyage to any part of the world and over any seas. The No. 3 and No. 4 Clauses explain themselves. The Collision Clause is a very necessary addition to all Marine policies. In case of a collision with another vessel, although the yacht may be in fault, the underwriters are liable under the clause to pay up to three-fourths of the value of the policy towards the repairs of the damaged vessel or the general repairs. The writer has a policy before him for 1,000_l._ with the Collision Clause inserted. Let it be supposed that the yacht for which this policy was taken out has run into another vessel, which has received damage to the amount of 800_l._, then the underwriters are responsible up to the amount of 750_l._ Collisions with piers or the removal of obstructions do not come under this clause, and if thought worth insuring against, have to be freed by what has been termed in this notice No. 7, or the Prevention Clause No. 1. This clause enables the insurer to claim for the fourth quarter over and above the three quarters for which the underwriters are liable under the Collision Clause. It will enable him to hand over the business and cost of raising and removing from a fairway, for example, any vessel that he may have sunk through collision with his yacht, or repair any piers that may have been damaged through contact with the boat. Few, however, have this clause inserted in their policies, as so small a risk can safely be borne by an owner. No. 8, or the Prevention Clause No. 2, only concerns yachtsmen who race their vessels. Its correct title is 'The Racing Clause.' This wipes out those few words from the policy that free the underwriters from all liability in the Twenty-pound Clause, and makes them responsible for total or other loss, should such take place, while the yacht is in the act of racing; for no simple policy or ordinary form provides against '_racing risks_.' The above remarks refer to policies of insurance on yachts of all sizes; the following will be interesting to the owners of small craft, as giving the average premiums that should be paid under the several conditions named. For a 250_l._ policy covering five months, two guineas per cent. This policy should include the Twenty-pound and Collision Clauses. The Protection Clause to cover five months should be added for the payment of 5 per cent. extra. The Racing Protection Clause covering a similar length of time should be inserted at the rate of 10 per cent. extra. A laying-up policy freeing the owner of all risks during the winter months should cost 6_s._ 8_d._ or about that sum, for a policy worth 350_l._ This policy will cover risks from fire, falling over, and all such accidents as may take place whilst a yacht is hauled up in a yard or elsewhere. A laying-up policy to cover the winter months ought to be obtained at the rate of 2_s._ 6_d._ to 5_s._ for a like policy of 350_l._ This policy will cover all risks that may be incurred by a yacht laid up, dismantled, and left at her moorings, such as from fire, dragging ashore, being run into, &c. Of course insurances differ as to the amount of premium to be paid according to the age of the yacht, her size, and the amount of the policy. Thus for a 100_l._ policy on an old worn-out 5-tonner, to cover summer sailing risks, as much as 5 per cent. has been paid, while for a 150_l._ policy for an old but well-kept-up yacht of a similar tonnage, 50_s._ has been the premium covering the five summer months. In conclusion, it may be as well to mention that on no account is it a wise plan for the yacht-owner to insure his vessel for a less amount than her full value, including gear, furniture, such valuables as he keeps on board, stores, &c. There are times when, a yacht having suffered partial disablement, the underwriters may propose a composition, owing to there having been no fixed expense incurred in carrying out the repairs. Should a certain sum be agreed upon, and the owner happen to have only insured for a portion of the yacht's true value, whatever ratio that portion bears to the actual value, as laid down by him to the agents, will be deducted from the sum given as compensation. For instance, a friend of the writer insured his small yacht for 200_l._, her true value as given in by him at the time to Lloyd's agent being 250_l._ During the season, owing to a heavy gale of wind, she dragged her anchor, and, no one being on board, was picked up out at sea by a fishing-boat and towed back a derelict. The owner agreed to accept 25_l._ in compensation for the expenses incurred; but he was astonished when the amount handed over to him only proved to be 20_l._ On going into the matter, he was told that he had undertaken a fifth part of the risk on the yacht himself, in that he had insured for 200_l._, the yacht's real worth being 250_l._, and therefore he would have to bear a fifth part of the expense; and since he had agreed that 25_l._ was sufficient compensation, so the underwriters could only be liable to the amount of 20_l._ The case was brought into court and judgment given in favour of the underwriters. The yachting clauses described above are inserted on the usual Marine policy form, and the yacht insurer cannot do better than have the clauses as given in this chapter inserted in any policy form he may accept. Attempts have been made from time to time to launch a Mutual Yacht Insurance Company, by which yachtsmen would be able to undertake their own risks by mutual co-operation and without reference to Lloyd's; but there are points, where a system of mutual insurance may benefit householders, who may be said to be localised, which would create difficulties almost sufficient to prevent any general Mutual Yacht Insurance from covering its expenses. The changes that occur in yacht-ownership are very many and frequent, and it must be often the case, that when a yacht-owner ceases to be such, any interest he may have had in a Mutual Insurance Company would have to cease too. Such changes rarely take place among the members of a Mutual House Insurance Company, and it thrives accordingly; but the constant shift of ownership, which may be seen annually by anyone who will take the trouble to study the 'Yacht List,' would surely prove a serious drawback to a Mutual Yacht Insurance Company. In localities like the Clyde, however, where a yacht is almost as great a necessity as the possession of a stone frigate (house ashore), there seems no reason why Mutual Insurance among the local yacht-owners should not do well and prove a most successful undertaking; but then great judgment would have to be exercised as to the kind of risks such a company should incur, and many would have to be excluded, which Lloyd's agents up to the present time have been very willing to accept, such as the insurance of all yachts whose crews do not live on board while in commission, and the like. If the above remarks prove of use as well as interesting to yacht-owners, it must in justice be said that the writer is much indebted for the kindly help given him by his friend Mr. York, the secretary of the Royal Clyde Yacht Club, when compiling the information given. INDEX TO THE FIRST VOLUME Accommodation in a yacht defined, 363 'Active,' used by Froude in experimenting on the resistance of ships through water, 86 'Ada' (2-1/2-rater), 231, 232; (5-rater), 234 Adams, W., of Greenock, his iron horse for yachts, 391 'Adèle' (5-tonner), 328 Admiralty, the, build the cutter 'Trial' (1790) and the brig 'Lady Nelson' (1797) with three sliding keels, 104 Adriatic, the, yachting in, 38 Advertisements and cards of races, 153, 154 Æschylus, quoted, 39 Ahl, the moorlands of, 309 Ailsa, Marquis of, owner of 'Titania,' 47, 82 'Alarm' (193 tons), 22, 52, 73, 110, 111; (243 tons), 116 'Albatross' (118-tonner), 20 'Albertine' (153 tons), 113 Alderney Race, 402 'Alerte' (E. F. Knight's), yawl, 299, 300, 301; commissariat, 305; cooking on board, 306 Algiers, wreck of the 'Alouette' at, 333 'Aline' (216 tons), construction, 111; successes, 112, 113, 115, 116; race against the 'Livonia' for the Prince of Wales's Cup in 1871, 126; and 1872, 132; 136, 141; her lifeboat, 206; dimensions and sail-plan of cutter, 208 Allan, Messrs., owners of the 'Nora' (5-tonner), 346; and of the 'Doris' (5-tonner), 354 Almanac for the Solent Racing, King & Co.'s, summary of racing rules in, 151 'Alouette' (5-tonner), dimensions of, 332; wreck, 333 Aluminium, as a material for yacht-building, 80 'Alwida' (5-rater), 241, 242, 246, 372 America, adoption of centreboards in, 102, 103, 105; centreboard v. keel, 106 'America,' American schooner, her début in English waters, 12; characteristics of her build, 74; sails, 74; epoch-making vessel in yacht-designing, 75; in the race round the Isle of Wight for the Royal Yacht Squadron 100_l._ cup, 110 America Cup, 107; first competition for, 110; holders unduly favoured, 111; the 1870 race, 124; the 1871 race, 129 America, North, the eastern seaboard of, 21; schooners and crews employed in the coasting trade, 21; as a cruising ground, 37 American pre-eminence in yacht-building, 11 Ames, L. M., owner of the 'Atlantis,' 141, 230 'Amphitrite,' schooner, 109, 144 'Amy' (72 tons), 116 Anchors, yacht, 218, 382-384 'Anemone,' yawl, E. Liddell's, 141 Aneroid, the, 312-314, 321 Anholt, Island of, 314 Apenrade, 309 'Aquiline' (55 tons), 113 Arabin, Mr., 230 'Archee' (5-rater), 241, 242, 563 Archer, Colin, of Christiania, 344 Ardglass, 401 'Arethusa,' Stuart Lane's cutter, 141 'Arrow,' the original, 52; her dimensions, 71; bought and altered by T. Chamberlayne, 73; 110, 134, 330, 331 Ashbury, James, has the 'Cambria' built, 115; refuses the second race against 'Sappho,' 124; brings out the 'Livonia' schooner, 126; 131 Ashes, black, for removing varnish, 379 Asia Minor, cruising off the coast of, 400 Assheton-Smith, T., characteristics of his cutter 'Menai,' 73 'Atlantis,' L. M. Ames's yawl, 141 'Aurora,' in the race round the Isle of Wight for the Royal Yacht Squadron 100_l._ cup, 111 Australia, voyage to, time occupied by 'Sunbeam' under sail and steam, 26; racing and cruising on the coast of, 399 'Avadavat' (2-1/2-rater), 246, 247 Average clause, Insurance, 408 Azores, the, 38, 43 'Babe,' the (2-1/2-rater), 241, 243-247 Baden-Powell, W., his designs for the 'Diamond' (5-tonner), 61-64; 331 Bags for clothes on a voyage, 392 Bahamas, the, 38 Bainbridge, Captain, R.N., 141 'Bairn' (2-1/2-rater), 246, 250 Baldwin, Mr., of New York, 116 Balearic Islands, 38 Ballast, gradual abolition of shifting, 77; for a yacht's sailing boat, 205, 206, 208; for yachts, 302, 303 Baltic, cruising in the, 37, 308; interest and pleasure of, 309; the voyage from England, 309; character of the coast scenery, 309; the coast of Denmark and its people, 310; coasting in a small craft, 310; bad weather, 310, 311; shallow craft advocated, 311; consulting the aneroid, 312; fishermen, 313; character of vessel for cruising in, 314; old P. & O. lifeboat, 314, 315; use of leeboards, 316; advantage of leeboards over centreboards, 317, 318; boats suited for, 319; running for a port in a storm, 320; use of the drogue, 321 Bangor Bay, Belfast, 401 Bantry Bay, 401 Barbados, 38 'Barbet' (10-rater), 251 Baring, E. (afterwards Lord Revelstoke), 140 Baring, General, 237 Barking Outfall, 223 Barometers, 312-314 'Barracouta' (3-tonner, 1860), 328; yawl (5-tonner, 1874), 329 Barrow, Mr., hon. sec. Island Sailing Club, 237 Barrow-in-Furness, 76, 401 Batthyany, Count E., brings out the 'Flying Cloud,' 116; and the 'Kriemhilda,' 134; (Prince) his share in starting the Y.R.A., 146; his 'Drina,' 232 'Beagle,' H.M. brig, rig of, 29 Beam, appreciation of the value of, 65, 93 Beauclerk, W. A., 243 Beaufoy, Colonel, his experiments in towing bodies through water, 83 'Bedouin,' 179, 180 Beds, yacht, 385 Belfast, 373, 401 'Bella Donna' (119 tons), 78 'Bell's Life,' cited, 55, 56 Belvidere yard, the, 232 Bembridge, 403 Bembridge Regatta, 351 Bembridge Sailing Club, 229, 239, 248 Bennett, Gordon, 115, 117, 131 Bentall, E. H., builder of the 'Jullanar,' 88; and of the 'Evolution,' 90 Bermuda, 38 Berthon collapsible boat, the, 304 Berthon dinghy, the, 398 Berthon's paint, 399 Biscuits, ship's, 305 Bishop, Mr., builder of the 'Barracouta,' 328 Black & Co. (late Hatcher & Co.), 245 Black ashes for removing varnish, 379 'Black Maria' (American sloop), 106 Black, Mr., 246 'Black Pearl,' cutter of, midship section of, 200; sail-plan, 203; description of, 206; dimensions, &c., 208 Black priming varnish, 377 Blackwater River, Essex, 88 Blake, G. L., on 5-tonners and 5-raters in the North, 322 _et seq._; owner of the 'Cyprus' (5-tonner), 347; on yacht insurance, 407 _et seq._ 'Bloodhound' (1874), built without fittings, 82 'Blue Bell' (170 tons), 113, 114; (5-rater), 233, 234 'Boadicea' (378 tons), 139 Boag, Mr., 335 Board of Trade certificates, 408 Boats, yacht's, 187 _et seq._; 303 Booth, Sir Robert Gore, 76 Boston, New England, centreboard building at, in 1774, 103 Boutcher, E. (owner of the 'Fiona'), 140 Brassey, Lord, on ocean cruising, 18 _et seq._; his voyages, 18; distances sailed, 20; vessels in which he voyaged, 20; on American models, 22; on steam versus sailing yachts, 23; on sailing yachts with auxiliary steam power, 24; record of voyages made by 'Sunbeam' under sail, steam, and sail and steam, 26-29; calculation of time under sail and under steam in ordinary cruising, 28; on the question of rig, 29; his personal experience of yachting, 30-36; on the 'Eothen' from Queenstown to Quebec, 30; on the 'Sunbeam' in a storm off Flamborough Head, 31-33; on the overmasting of the pleasure fleet, 33; in a long gale on the 'Sunbeam' from Nassau to Bermuda, 34; a dirty night on board the 'Sunbeam' between Honolulu and Japan, 35; on the pleasures of navigating a yacht, 36; his first navigation charge, 37; on seamanship, 37; on pleasant cruising grounds, 37, 38; on the love of the sea, 39 Bridson, Mr., 78 Bristol Channel, 43 'Britannia,' H.R.H. the Prince of Wales's (151.13 Y.R.A. rating), loss of three masts by, 10; victorious career, 11; rate of speed, 15; 22, 23, 59; sketch of her cutwater, 60; dimensions, 69; 77; fittings, 82; plan of general arrangement, 84; 179 British sailors, character of, 296 Brixham, 403 Broadwood, Thomas, his 'Witchcraft' (240 tons), 113 Bronze, manganese, for plating purposes, 79 Brooke, Rajah, his 'Royalist' (schooner, 45 tons), 21 Brooks, Samuel, R.N.A.V., 43, 44 Brushes for varnishing, 378 Buchanan, John Cross, his 'Wave' fixed with a metal keel, 53 Buckley & Sherlock, builders of the 'Lorelei' (5-tonner), 344, 345 Bucknill, Colonel, designs the 'Thalassa,' 228; and 'Quinque,' 242 'Bud' (2-1/2-rater), 251 Burgess, Edward, American boatbuilder, designs a keel-boat, 106 Burlings Light, 45, 46 Bute, 38 'Buttercup' (1880), character of build, 58; her excellent record, 59 Buying a yacht, advice concerning, 375; probable annual cost, 375; expense of crew, 375; cost of sails, gear, &c., 375; best men to buy of, 376; places to buy at, 376; caution in early days of ownership, 376 Byrne, St. Clare. _See_ St. Clare Byrne Byron, quoted, on the sea, 39 Cadiz, 45 Calais, character of the sea near, 365 Caledon, Earl of, 141 'Calluna,' the Clyde champion, 23; her dimensions, 69, 71 Calshot, racing at, 227 'Cambria,' schooner, and the America Cup, 111; wins the race across the Atlantic in 1870, 115, 124; 116, 119, 120, 122; her races against the 'Sappho,' 123; eighth for the America Cup in 1870, 125; 131 'Camellia' (5-tonner), 333; dimensions, 334; matches with 'Freda,' 341-343; 349 'Camilla' (2-1/2-rater), 244, 245, 247 Campbeltown, Cantyre, 369, 400 Camper & Nicholson, Messrs., of Gosport, 20; build the 'Aline,' 111; the 'Blue Bell,' 113; 115; the 'Gwendolin,' 119; 134, 135, 139, 140, 144 Canoe of the South Seas, the, 361 Cape de Gata, 38 Cape La Hogue, 402 Cape St. Vincent, 45 Cape Spartel, 45 Cape Verdes to Rio, from, time occupied by 'Sunbeam,' 26 Capstans, improvement in, 81 Card, the race, 154 Carlingford Lough, Ireland, 215; phenomena of the wind in, 215; as a cruising ground, 401 Carroll, R. P. owner of the 'Navahoe,' 23, 151 Castle Yacht Club, 227, 229, 237, 238, 241, 244, 247 Castletown, Isle of Man, 401 Cattegat, the, 42, 308, 314 Caustic potash for removing varnish, 379 Cecil, the late Lord Francis, owner of the 'Chittywee' (3-tonner), 141, 371 Cedar fittings, 81 Centreboards, origin of, 102; American, 103; dagger boards, 103; early form, 103; Lord Percy's boat in 1774, 103; at Deptford, 104; general adoption of, in America, 105; application to English racers, 105; battle of centreboard _v._ keel, 106; to a cutter, 199-201, 219 'Cetonia' (203 tons), 136, 137, 141 'Challenge' (20-tonner), 338 Chamberlayne, Tankerville, owner of 'Arrow' (5-tonner), 330 Chamberlayne, Thomas, buys and alters the original 'Arrow' (84 tons), 73 Champy, Bescoit, his 'Diane' (98 tons), 117 Channel, English, as a cruising ground, 37 'Chazalie,' 24 China clipper ships, the, 77 'Chipmunk' (2-1/2-rater), 231, 232, 236 'Chiquita,' 180 'Chittywee' (3-tonner), 230, 371 Christiania, 42, 44 'Christabel,' 114 'Christine' (40-tonner), 333 Cimbrian Peninsula, 309, 310 'Circe' (123 tons), 113, 114 Civita Vecchia, 38 Clarke, Mr., owner of the 'Satanita,' 23, 230, 232 Clayton, Colonel Fitzroy, 146 Clayton, C. P., 66, 96, 101, 227, 234, 243, 247, 372 'Clio' (5-tonner), 335 'Clotilde' (5-tonner), G. L. Watson's first racing yacht, 88 Club and open matches, 152 Clyde, estuary of the, yachting in, 38; the China clipper ships, 77; yacht-builders, 83; wind-force, 174; early appreciation of small racing craft, 324; sea disturbance at, 366; 5-raters, 371; racing in the, 374, 400 Cochrane, Blair Onslow, hon. sec. Bembridge Sailing Club, 239 'Cockatoo' (2-1/2-rater), 251 'Cock-a-Whoop' (2-1/2-rater), diagram of her lines, 234; 235, 241, 244; (5-rater), 233, 234, 235 Collapsible boat, Berthon, 304 Collision clause, Insurance, 410 'Colonia' (American keel boat), 69, 106 'Columbia,' American centreboard schooner, beats the 'Livonia' in the first match for the race for the America Cup in 1871, 129; and in the second, 130; breaks down in the third, 131 'Columbine' type of racing cruisers, 147 Commissariat for foreign cruises, 304, 305 'Condor' (129 tons), 116 Cooking on a yacht, 306, 307 Coolin Hills, Skye, 215 'Coquette,' 248 'Cordelia' (18-ton schooner), 331 'Corinne' (162 tons), 136 Corinthian deep-sea cruising, 41; difficulties in the way of amateurs undertaking long voyages, 41; voyages of the 'Hornet,' 42; cruise of the 'Hornet' in 1879, 43; in 1880 and 1881, 44; expense of amateur crew, 47; precautions in handling crew at sea, 48; privileges of, at regattas, 157 'Corisande' (yawl), wins the Commodore and Vice-Commodore cups of the Royal Victoria Yacht Club in 1872, 134 'Cormorant' (2-1/2-rater), 232 Corsica, 38 'Cosette' (2-1/2-rater), 233, 237, 244 Cost, annual, of a yacht, 375, 376 Cowes, 11, 112, 113, 119, 121, 127, 133, 134, 136, 141, 143, 144, 226, 403 Cox, F., 146 Cox, Miss, 228, 236, 244, 247 Craig, Mr., part owner of the 'Camellia' (5-tonner), 335 Cranfield, Lemon, skipper of the 'Miranda,' 140 Crawford, A. F. S., his 'Squall' (5-rater), 254 'Creole' (40-rater), her dimensions, 66-68 Cruiser, a sailing, of 10,000 tons, speculative career of, 15, 16 Cruising grounds, 37, 38, 399-405 Cruising, precautions to be observed on unknown coasts, 404, 405 Cumberland Sailing Society in the Thames, 104 'Cumberland,' Commodore Taylor's, with five sliding keels, 305 'Currytush' (3-tonner), 354, 371 Cutters, modern racing, 14, 198 Cuxhaven, 315 'Cyane' (5-rater), 251, 253, 254, 372 'Cygnet' (35 tons), plan of, 54 'Cymba' (Queen's Cup winner, 1857), 20; her dimensions, 76 'Cynthia' (H.M. sloop), 104 'Cyprus' (5-tonner), dimensions and lines of, 346; fittings, 347, 348; her voyage from Scotland to Plymouth, 349-351; racing performances, 351, 352; on Lake Ontario, 352; compared with 5-raters, 356; 380, 387, 398 'Czarina,' 24 'Dacia' (5-rater), her 1892 certificate, 169; 251, 253, 254, 255, 372, 373 Dagger-boards, 103 'Dancing Girl,' 248 Danish Islands, 42 Danske fishing-boat, 311 Dartmouth, 8, 43, 44, 45, 403; sea disturbance at, 365, 366 'Dauntless' (336 tons), loses the race across the Atlantic, in 1870, 115; 117, 124; third in the race for the Emperor Napoleon III.'s Cup, 118; 119, 120, 121, 129, 131; in the race for the Prince of Wales's Cup in 1872, 132 'Dauntless' (ketch), wins the first prize in the Royal Yacht Squadron Jubilee race, 141 'Dawn,' the, 47 'Decima' (10-rater), 171, 177, 179, 180, 183, 184, 186, 233, 241, 245 Deck-houses, 23 'Dee Dee' (1/2-rater), 246, 248 'Deerhound' (40-rater), her dimensions, 66-68 'Delvin' (5-tonner), 367 Denmark, 44; pleasant cruising coasts of, 310 Denny Brothers, Messrs., of Dumbarton, 87 Deptford, centreboards built at, in 1789, 104 Designer, duties of a, 151 'Diamond' (5-tonner), tables and diagrams showing length and displacement, 61-63; 331, 332 'Diane' (98 tons), 117, 118 Dickenson, Mr., of Birkenhead, builder of the 'Wyvern' (6-tonner), 325, 328; of the 'Naiad' and 'Pastime' (10-tonners), 327; of the 'Adèle' (5-tonner), 328 'Diligent,' 47 Dinghies, 303, 318, 398 'Dis' (10-rater), 180, 230, 231, 232, 233, 241, 245, 252 Dodd, Edward, R.N.A.V., 43 Dogfish, 191 'Dog-legged' sternpost, 57 'Dolly Varden,' Ratsey's, 232 'Dolphin' (2-1/2-rater), 180, 241, 243, 247 'Dora,' G. L. Watson's centreboard, 59, 105 'Doreen' (10-rater), 171, 177, 179, 180, 183, 184, 186, 251, 252 'Doris' (5-tonner), tables and diagrams showing length and displacement, 61-63; 81, 233; her dimensions, 354; her matches with 'Jenny Wren,' 354, 355, 359 'Dorothy' (5-rater), 234 Douglas, Isle of Man, 401 Douglas, Mr., 123 'Doushka' (1-rater), 251 Dowell, Admiral Sir William, 44 'Dragon' (20-rater), 80 'Drina' (10-rater), 232 Drogues, use of, 320, 321 Du Bowlay, Captain, 248 Dublin Bay, small yacht racing in, 325, 326 Dudley, Lord, owner of the 'Dacia' (5-rater), 253, 254, 255, 373 Dudley, Tom, sails the 'Camellia' in her matches with 'Freda,' 344 Dufferin, Lord, his adoption of sailing yachts with auxiliary steam power, 24 Dunraven, Earl of, his efforts to bring back the cup from America, 11; his 'Valkyrie,' 23; on international yachting, 69, 111; on the rating rules, 167; 235, 241, 242, 253, 254; owner of the 'Alwida,' 372 Duppa, George, 113, 114 Eastern Archipelago, the, as a cruising ground, 38 Edwards, Mr., 113 'Egeria' (153 tons), 112; wins the Queen's Cup at Cowes in 1865, 113; second in R.T.Y.C. race from the Nore to Dover in 1866, 114; 115, 116, 117; second in the race for the Emperor Napoleon III.'s Cup, 118; classed as a standard or test vessel, 119; wins the Channel Match of the R.T.Y.C, 120, 121; wins the Prince of Wales's Challenge Cup, 122; beats the 'Livonia,' in the Thames, 126; in the race for the Prince of Wales's Cup in 1872, 132; in 1873, 835; and in 1874, 138; wins the Queen's Cup at Cowes, 134; 135, 136, 137; her race against the 'Seabelle' in 1875, 138; in the race of the Jubilee year, 140; the most successful of the schooners, 144 'Eileen' (1/2-rater), 248 Emerson, quoted, 35 'Enchantress,' American yacht, enters for the Prince of Wales's Cup in 1874, 137, 141 England, East Coast of, as a cruising ground, 37 England, South Coast of, as a cruising ground, 400 English Channel, the sea in the, 365 Entries, 160 'Eothen' (340 tons), 20; Lord Brassey's experience of a storm on board, from Queenstown to Quebec, 30 'Eulalie' (18 tons), 20 Euripides, on the ocean, 39 'Evadne' (206 tons), 112, 113 'Evolution' (10 tons), her broad beam, 71; the largest of the 10-tonners, 90; cause of her failure, 91; diagram, 92; 95 Ewing, Major, his 'Gwendolin' (171 tons), 119; 133, 134 Exeter, Marquis of, 146 Eyton, Wynne, designer and owner of 'Lorelei' (5-tonner), 344, 345 'Fair Geraldine' (5-rater), 230, 233, 234, 235, 241, 243 'Fairy' (2-1/2-rater), 231 Fal river, 403 'Falcon' (E. F. Knight's), her voyage to South America, 299; in a hurricane, 301; commissariat, 304; cooking on board, 307 Falmouth, 8; sea disturbance at, 365; 403 Farmer, Mr., 230 'Faugh-a-Ballagh' (2-1/2-rater), 251, 256 Fay & Co., builders of the 'Black Pearl's' cutter, 206 'Field,' cited, 51; on the rating rules, 169; 175-181, 229, 237, 239, 241, 250 'Fiera' (2-1/2-rater), 246, 247 'Fiery Cross' (51 tons), 113, 370 Fife, Messrs. William, of Fairlie, yacht builders and designers, 20, 66; the 'Cymba' (1852), 76; their use of nickel steel in the 'Dragon' (1893), 80; the 'Fiona,' 83; 96, 101; the 'Minerva,' 106; 233, 246, 252; the 'Pearl' (5-tonner), 330; 'Camellia' and the 'Clio,' 333, 335; 'Cyprus' (5-tonner), 346; the 'Delvin,' 367; their 5-raters, 372; the 'Red Lancer' (5-rater), 373 Fifty-tonners, fitting out, to go foreign, 295; selection and discipline of the crew, 296; rig and fit out, 297; small crew advised, 297; dealing with dissensions on board, 297; best men for foreign cruisers of small tonnage, 298; negro crews, 298; choice of vessel, 299; yawl rig, 300; sails, 300; spinnaker, 300; storm square-sail, 301, 302; ballast, 302, 303; boats, 303, 304; commissariat, 304; water, 305; salt meat, 305; biscuits, 305; tinned meats, 306; dealing with ship-chandlers, 306; cooking, 306; spirit stoves, 307; paraffin stoves, 307 Fin-keels, 369 'Fiona' (80 tons), establishes the fame of Scotch yacht-builders, 83; 120, 140 Fiords, Norwegian, 44 'Firefly,' 24 Fish, Mr., 137 Fisherman's anchor, the, 384 Fishing, sea, 190-193 Fitting out a yacht, 377; paint to be used, 377; scraping and revarnishing, 378; best method of treating the decks, 378; removing varnish, 379; laying decks, 379; recoppering, 380; finding out weak places, 381, 382; overhauling the rigging, 382; the anchor, 382-384; the interior accommodation, 384-388; beds, 385; movable pantry, 386; deadlights, 388; ropes and sails, 388-392; foresails, 390; lead of sheets, 391; mainsails, 391; the iron horse, 391; topsails, 392. _See_ also Fifty-tonners Fitzroy, Captain, R.N., commander of 'Beagle,' 29 Five-raters in the North. _See_ Five-tonners, &c. Five-raters, the Y.R.A. rule of measurement, 355; sail-area and length, 356, 357; best boats for Channel seas, 357; 'hard-mouthed,' 358; overhang forward, 358; fiddle-head and overhang bow, 358; main design, 359; 'staying' and 'getting away,' 359; reaching courses, 359; sternpost, fin and bulb keels, 360, 361; the Herreshoff boats the 'Wenonah' and 'Wee Winn,' 360; lugsails, 360; canoe models, 361; ocean travelling, 362; general requirements in a yacht, 362; weight, 363; accommodation, 363; sail-carrying power, 363; dimensions of yacht to be supplied with sails, 364; speed, 364; question of kind of waters small yachts will race in, 365, 366; principal form in America for all yachts, 367; large displacement, 367, 368; the fin-keel, 369; suitable harbours, 369; value of a moderate draught of water, 370; beam, 370, 371; sail-area, 371; Clyde boats, 371; Solent raters, 372; Messrs. Fife and G. L. Watson's yachts, 372; J. H. Nicholson's designs, 372; the 'Natica' and 'Red Lancer,' 373; buying, 375-377; fitting out, 377-392; altering the lugsail, 384; interior accommodation, 384-392; outfit, 392-395; racing, 395-398; cruising, 399-406 Five-tonners (and five-raters) in the North, 322; yachts built under the Thames rule of measurement and the rule of the Y.R.A., 323; cost of building and keeping up, 324; classed and prizes awarded, 324; prejudice against, 325; voyage of the 'Wyvern' from Kingstown to Liverpool, 326; the 'Pearl,' 'Torment,' and 'Arrow,' 330; 'Diamond,' 331; 'Alouette,' 332, 333; 'Vril,' 334, 335; 'Camellia,' 334, 335; 'Freda,' 335-337; matches between three last-named off Holyhead Island, 337-344; cheating the tonnage rule, 344; 'Lorelei,' 344; 'Urchin,' 345; chief method employed for walking through the 'length on deck rule,' 345; 'Nora,' 346; 'Cyprus,' 346-352; 'Trident,' 352; 'Olga,' 352; 'Luath,' 353; 'Oona,' 353; 'Doris,' 354, 355; 'Jenny Wren,' 354, 355; 'Delvin,' 367; buying, 375-377; crew sufficient for, 375; cost of sails, gear, &c., 375; men and places to buy of and at, 376; fitting out, 377-392; interior accommodation, 384-392; outfit, 392-395; racing, 395-398; cruising, 399-406 Flags, 394 Flamborough Head, 31-33 Flensborg, 309 'Fleur-de-Lys' (90 tons), 113 Floating blinds, 103 'Florinda,' yawl, diagrams of lines, 97; plans, 100; midship section, 101, 134 'Flutterby' (4-rater), 230 'Flying Cloud' (75 tons), 116, 119 Forecastle pantry, the, 380 Foreign cruises in vessels of small tonnage. _See_ Fifty-tonners 'Formosa,' cutter, 83 Formosa Channel, 'Sunbeam's' performance under sail in, 26 Forwood, Sir William, 146, 168 Fowey, 403 'Freak,' cutter, 110 Freake, Mr., first owner of the 'Freda' (5-tonner), 337 'Freda' (5-tonner), 333, 335; dimensions, 336; matches with 'Vril,' 337-341; matches with 'Camellia,' 341-343 French rating rules, 179, 180, 181, 185 Frisian Islands, 309 'Frolic' (7-rater), 230 Froude, Mr., quoted, on the ocean, 39 Froude, R. E., on the rating rules, 175; owner and designer of 'Jenny Wren' (5-tonner), 354 Froude, William, his experiments on the resistance of planes through water, 85, 86; his law of comparison, 86, 87, 88, 90 'G.G.' (2-1/2-rater), 233, 236 'Galatea,' cutter, in the International Race for the America Cup, 22; 111, 113 Gamble, Colonel, his lifeboat to the 'Aline,' 206-208 Gannets, 190 'Gareth' (2-1/2-rater), 251, 256, 372 Garret, Mr., his 'G.G.' (2-1/2-rater), 223, 236 'Garrion,' 78 'Genesta,' and the America Cup, 111, 141, 180 German Emperor William, his 'Meteor,' 11, 82; his yacht racing, 12 'Ghost,' 180 Gibraltar, 42, 45 Girth rating rule, 185 Gladstone, W. E., his cruise in the 'Sunbeam,' 19 'Glance,' 83, 101 'Gleam,' 76 'Gleam' (5-rater), 234 Glengariff, 401 'Gloriana' (133 tons), 106, 113, 114, 115, 116, 119 'Glycera' (5-rater), 241, 242, 245 Godinet, M., his new rating rule, 180 'Gossoon' (American keel boat), 106 Gourock, 400 Graham, E., R.N.A.V., 44 Grant, Lieutenant James, R.N., 104 'Graphic,' quoted, on the voyage of the 'Hornet' in 1879, 43 Gravesend Reach, 139 Grecian Archipelago, 400 Greeks, the, as lovers of the sea, 39 Greenland Dock, near London, Colonel Beaufoy's experiments in the, 83 Grenada, 38 Gretton, J., jun., 251, 252 'Greyhound,' used in experimenting on the resistance of ships through water, 86 Groceries, &c., for yachting, 393 Gubbins, Mr., success of his 'Windfall' against the 'Dacia,' 255 Guernsey, 402 'Guinevere' (308 tons), 115, 116, 117; wins the Emperor Napoleon III.'s Cup, 118; 121, 122 Guinness, Sir Edward, 141, 143 Gulf of Bothnia, 315 Gulf of Heligoland, 315 Gulf of Lyons, 38 Gulf of Mexico, 318 Gulls, 190 'Gwendolin' (171 tons), 119, 121, 122, 132, 136 Hallowes, Commodore, Admiral of the Minima Sailing Club, 238 Hannay, J. M., owner of the 'Barracouta,' 328 Hansen & Sons, builders of the 'Aline's' lifeboat, 206 Harbours suitable for small yachts, 369 Harlingen, 316 Harvey & Co., Wivenhoe, builders of the 'Oona' (5-tonner), 353 Harvey, E. N., 247 Harvey, John, of Wivenhoe, 136, 140 Harvey, Miss (afterwards Mrs. A. Heygate), 237 'Harvey's Patent' paint, 377, 378 Harwich to the Baltic, cruise from, 309, 310 Hatcher & Co. (now Black & Co.), 245 Hatcher, Dan, of Southampton, 20; adopts the composite method of construction in several vessels, 78; 83, 101; builder of the 'Freda,' 332, 333 Hauraki Gulf, New Zealand, 219 Havana, 38 Havre, 402 Healey, C. E. Chadwick, 47 'Heathen Chinee,' yawl, 236 Henderson, Messrs., of Partick, 334 Henn, Lieutenant, R.N., races his 'Galatea' against the 'Puritan' for the America Cup in 1886, 22 Herbert, Captain John, his success with the 'Wildfire' (59 tons), 111; and the 'Pantomime' (140 tons), 135 Herm, 402 Herreshoff, Mr., on rating rules, 177, 178, 186 Herreshoff, Messrs. (of Rhode Island), design and build their 'Vigilant' (centreboard) and 'Colonia' (keel boat), 106 Herreshoff, N. G., designer of the 'Navahoe' and 'Vigilant,' 22, 82; his 'Gloriana' and 'Wasp,' keel boats, 106; 255, 256; 'Wee Winn,' and the 'Wenonah,' 360; takes his model for small yachts from the canoe, 361 Hewitt, Major Percy, 146 Hewitt, Robert, designer of the 'Buttercup' (1880), 59 Heygate, Mrs. A., 237 'Hilda' (5-tonner), 331 Hilliard, J. B., part owner and designer of the 'Vril,' 334; sails her in her matches with 'Freda,' 344 'Himalaya,' troopship, 75 Hired yachts, 162 Hoare, Sydney, 47 Hoare, Wilson, his 'Avadavat,' 247 Holland, coast of, as a cruising ground, 37, 404; use of leeboards in, 316 Holland-Ackers, Mr., initiates the system of time allowances, 52 Home versus international racing, 12 Hönefos, Falls of, 44 Honolulu to Yokohama, the 'Sunbeam's' performances under sail from, 26 'Hoopoo' (2-1/2-rater), 251 'Hornet,' build and gear of the, 42; cruise in 1879, 43; in 1880, 44; in 1881, 44-47; expense of and precautions concerning crew, 47, 48 Houldsworth, W., his 'Morna' not successful as a racer, 135 Houston, John, of Largs, skipper of the 'Fiona,' 83 Howth, 400 Hughes, Captain J. W., 65, 146; tries the heavy lead fin-keel, 231; 235, 244 Hughes, Fred, 230 Hughes, the Misses, 237 Hull-measurement rating rules, 182, 185 'Humming Bird' (2-1/2-rater), her build, 65; 235, 236, 241, 243, 245, 247, 369 Hunt, Mr., the publisher of 'Hunt's Yachting Magazine,' 89 'Hunt's Magazine,' cited, 51, 54, 56, 76, 338, 342 Hydraulic steering apparatus, 14 'Idono' (1/2-rater), 248 'Iernia' (5-rater), 246 'Illustrated London News,' quoted on the cruise of the 'Hornet' in 1880, 44 'Ina' (10-rater), 230 Inglis, John, of Pointhouse, in favour of outside ballast, 60 Inglis, John, jun., institutes in Pointhouse shipyard Rankine's method of estimating the resistance of ships, 86; 88 Inglis, Mr., designer, builder, and owner of the 'Hilda' and 'Viola' (5-tonners), 331; his 8-ton schooner, 331 Insurance of yachts, 407; ordinary form for a marine policy, 407; clauses under a yachting policy, 407-411; Board of Trade certificates, 408; average clause, 408; twenty-pound clause, 408, 409; No. 1 clause, 407, 409; No. 2 clause, 408, 410; Nos. 3 and 4 clauses, 408, 410; collision clause (No. 5), 410; prevention clauses (Nos. 7 and 8), 410; racing clause, 410, 411; laying-up policies, 411; premiums, 411; insuring for full amount, 411; mutual co-operation, 412 International race for the America Cup (1886), 22 International versus home racing, 12 'Intrigue' (72 tons), 113 'Iolanthe' (75 tons), 113 Ireland, 42; North coast of, as a cruising ground, 402; South coast, 400, 401; West coast, 400, 402 'Irex' (centreboard), Mr. Jameson's, 105, 141 Iron, introduced into the construction of ships, 77 Ise Fiord, 309 Island Sailing Club, 229, 237 Isle of Man, 401 Isle of Wight, as a cruising ground, 38, 47 Italy, coast of, as a cruising ground, 38 Itchen ferrymen, 224; punts, 224 Iveagh, Lord, 142 'Iverna,' 65 Jamaica, 38 James I., condition of the fleet in his time, 13 Jameson, John, result of his trial of the 'Irex' as a centreboard, 105; 141 'Janetta' (2-1/2-rater), 244, 246, 247 Japan, coasts of, yachting round, 38 'Jeanie' (1/2-rater), 246, 248, 250 'Jenny Wren' (5-tonner), 230; matches with 'Doris,' 354, 355 Jersey, 402 Johnson, Dr., quoted, on the sea, 2 'Jubilee,' American yacht, her dimensions, 69; 179 'Julia,' 120 'Jullanar' (120 tons), E. H. Bentall's yawl, 83; principles on which laid down, 88; measurements, 89; diagram, 91; 95 'Katherine' (5-rater), 246 Keels, sliding, Admiralty adoption of, in 1790, 104; the 'Lady Nelson' and 'Cynthia,' 104; Commodore Taylor's yacht, 104; recent American keel-boats, 106; General Paine's 'up to date' racer, 106; Luken's pamphlet on, 107; iron, to a yacht's cutter, 200 Kemp, Dixon, on the length of yachts, 59; proposes a new rule regarding tonnage, 65; secretary to the Y.R.A., 146; on the rules of racing, 150; on rating rules, 176, 178, 179; 227, 231, 242; his 'Yacht and Boat Sailing,' 346 'Kestrel' (202 tons), 108 Ketches (50-ton), 300 Kiel, 309 Kingstown, small yacht racing at, 326, 327, 401 Kirkcaldy, 54 Kit, the, for yachting, 392 'Kittiwake' (1/2-rater), 248, 250 Klein, Mr., owner of 'Dawn,' 47 Knight, E. F., on fitting out a 50-tonner to go foreign, 295 _et seq._; on Baltic cruising, 308 _et seq._ Knives, sailors', 218 'Kriemhilda,' cutter, 83, 98, 134 Kyak, the Greenlander's, 361 'Lady Nan' (2-1/2-rater), 180, 231, 235, 236 'Lady Nelson' (H.M. brig, 1797), the first ship to discover Tasmania to be an island, 102; her three sliding keels, 104 'Ladybird' (1/2-rater), 248 Laird, Mr., of Birkenhead, constructor of the compound engines of the 'Sunbeam,' 25 'Lais' (40-rater), her dimensions, 66-68, 71 Lamb & White, their wooden air-tight compartments, 206 Lampson, G. E., specialities of his 'Miranda' (139 tons), 140 Lampson, Sir George, Bart., 146 'Lancashire Witch,' 24 'Land and Water' on rating rules, 175; 230, 245 Lane, Stuart, 141 Langrishe, Mr., 245, 253; first owner of 'Dacia' (5-tonner), 373 Lapthorn, Messrs., sailmakers, 77 Larne, 402 'Latona,' yawl, 134, 140 Lawrence, John, part owner and designer of the 'Vril,' 334 Lawson, Mr., part owner of the 'Camellia' (5-tonner), 335 Laying-up policies, 411 Leach, Sir George, K.C.B., on schooner racing, 108 _et seq._, 146 Lead ballast, introduction of, 53 Leeboards, 316-319 Length and sail-area, rating by, 356 Length and sail-area rule, 168 'Leopard' (1807), lines of the, 72 Lepper, Mr., of Belfast, his 5-rater 'Archee,' 356 Lessop, Mr., 134 'Lethe' (163-ton yawl), midship section, 78, 79; fittings of main cabin, 82 'Letters from High Latitudes,' quoted, 24 Liddell, E., 141 Lifeboats, 198 Lights, yachts', when racing at night, 164 Liim, the, 309 'Lil' (afterwards 'Nety'), 232 'Lillah' (20 tons), 20 'Lily' (2-1/2-rater), 54 Lisbon, 45, 46 Little Belt, the, 309 'Little Nell' (10-rater), 230 Liverpool, 325 'Livonia' (240 tons), schooner, 20, 111; brought out by Mr. Ashbury, 126; beaten in the Thames by the 'Egeria,' 126; her race against the 'Aline' for the Prince of Wales's Cup in 1871, 126; loses the first two matches of the race for the America Cup in 1871, 129; wins the third, 131; loses the fourth, 132; and the fifth, 132; in the race for the Prince of Wales's Cup in 1872, 132 'Lizzie' (20 tons), 78 Lloyd's and Insurance, 407, 412 Loch Hourn, 9 Loch Scavaig, Skye, phenomenal squalls in, 215, 216 'Lollypop' (5-rater), 233, 234, 235; (10-rater), 230, 231, 232 Londonderry, 402 Long Island Sound, sea disturbance at, 366; 370; as a cruising ground, 399 Looe, 403 'Lorelei' (5-tonner), dimensions of, 344; fittings, 345; 385 Lorna (90 tons), 20, 141 Lough Strangford, 401 'Louisa,' 52 'Luath' (5-tonner), 353 Lubat, Mr., 137 Luken, Lionel (coach-builder), his pamphlet on insubmergible boats, 107 'Lulworth' (80 tons), 52, 73, 113 Lymington, Hants, 403 McCheane, Mr., hon. sec. Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club, 225 Macgregor, Colonel, 144 McNish, Mr., 242, 243 'Madcap' (2-1/2-rater), 228, 231, 233, 236 'Madcap' (70 tons), 113, 180 'Magic' (93 tons), wins the America Cup in 1870, 125 'Mahatma' (1-rater), 251 'Malissa' (10-tonner), 354 'Man overboard' rule, 158 Manning, A., 146, 231 'Margaret' (265 tons), 252 Marine insurance policy forms, 407, 412 Markham, Lieut.-Col., 113 Marsden, D. W., late hon. sec. of London Corps Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers, 41 _note_ Martin anchor, 383 Matches, private, 151; club and open, 152 Measurements, rules concerning, 164-166 Measurers, official, duties of, 164-166 'Mechanic's Magazine,' cited, 85 Medicines, 395 Mediterranean, the, as a cruising ground, 38; phenomenal squalls in, 215, 400 'Menai,' first vessel in which hollow lines were adopted, 73, 74 'Merkara,' diagram of the resistance curves of the model of the, 87 'Merle' (10-tonner), fitted with a 'dog-legged' sternpost, 57 'Merrythought' (1-1/4-rater), 228 'Meteor' (164 tons), her victory for the Queen's Cup at Cowes, 11; 20, 24; fittings, 82; diagram of profile of lines, 94 'Meteorological Notes,' Scott's, 405 Meuse, the, as a cruising ground, 37 'Minerva' (23 tons), Fife of Fairlie's, 106, 180, 367, 368 Minima Sailing Club, 229, 237; objects of, 238 'Minnow' (2-1/2-rater), 228, 231, 232, 236 'Miranda' (139 tons), specialities in her build, 140 'Mliss' (2-1/2-rater), 241, 244, 247 'Modwena' (223 tons), 136 'Mohawk' (40-rater), dimensions, 66-68; 93 'Moina' (85-rater), 141 'Molly' (2-1/2-rater) 251 Montagu, Captain, 232 Morley, S. Hope, 141 'Morna' (257 tons), 135, 136 Morocco, coast of, 42 'Mosquito' (50 tons), system of construction, 73-75; built of iron, 76-78; 248, 249, 330 Mousing, 389 Mulholland, Hon. H. L., M.P., 255 Mulholland, John, M.P. (afterwards Lord Dunleath), 112, 117, 137 'Muriel' (60 tons), 20, 78, 101 Mutual Yacht Insurance Company, attempts to launch, 412, 413 'Mystère' (118 tons), 117, 118 Nab Lightship, the, 110, 113, 117-119, 121-124, 127, 133, 136, 141, 143, 144 'Nadador' ('Lady Nan'), 2-1/2-rater, 233, 237 'Naiad' (10-tonner), 327 'Nansheen' (1-rater), 251 Napier, Colin, owner of the 'Wyvern,' 326 Napoleon III., his encouragement of yachting, 117 'Narna' (1/2-rater), 246, 248, 250 Nassau to Bermuda, from, the 'Sunbeam' in a gale, 34 'Natica' (5-rater), 54, 254, 373 'Navahoe' (156.7 Y.R.A. rating), American yacht, beats the 'Britannia' over the cross-Channel course, 11; worsted in English waters, 12; rate of speed, 15; 22, 23; spinnakers, 30; dimensions, 69; 78; 301 _note_ Negro crews, 298 'Nety' (9-rater), 232 New Jersey, coast of, 102 'New Moon' (209 tons), lugger, 113 New Thames Yacht Club, rule adopted by, in 1874, for measurement, 56 New York Bay, 102, 124, 125, 128 New York Yacht Club, 111, 125; alter the conditions for the America Cup, 128, 129; rating rules, 172 New Zealand, racing and cruising on the coast of, 399, 400 Newton-Robinson, Mr., 230 Nicholls, Jack, skipper of the 'Alarm,' 111 Nicholson & Sons, of Gosport, 101, 372 Nicholson, Charles, 96, 248, 256 Nicholson, J. H., designer of the 'Dacia' (5-rater) and of the 'Gareth' (2-1/2-rater), 372 Nicholson, Mr., jun., 253, 255 'Nora' (5-tonner), dimensions of, 346 'Norman' (40 tons), 20, 78, 83, 101, 122 North Pacific, 26 North Sea, the, 309; sea disturbance in, 365 Norway, coast of, as a cruising ground, 37, 44, 404 'Nyanza,' 78 Ocean cruising, precautions requisite for, 295 _et seq._ Officers, race. _See_ Race officers Oglander, Sir Henry, owner of the 'Firefly,' 24 'Oimara' (165 tons), 78; in the race round the Isle of Wight in 1868, 116; and the race from the Nore to Dover in 1870, 120 Old tonnage rating rule, 182 'Olga' (5 tonner), dimensions, 61-63; career of, 352, 353 'Oona' (5-tonner), dimensions of, 61-63, 353; melancholy end of, 354 'Oread,' 180 Osgood, Mr., success of his centreboard schooner 'Columbia' against the 'Livonia' for the America Cup, 129-131 'Otokesan' (1/2-rater), 248 Outfit for a yacht, 392; clothes bags, 392; the kit, 392; groceries, &c., 393; yacht necessaries, 394, 395 Owners of yachts, duties of, in races, 159; disqualification for breach of racing rules, 159; protests, 162 Pacific, the, yachting in, 38 Paine, General, his 'up to date' centreboard, 106 Paint for yachts, 377, 378; Berthon's, 399 'Palatine' (steam yacht), 9 'Palmer,' American centreboard schooner, 129, 131 'Pantomime' (151 tons), 112-116, 135, 136 'Papoose' (2-1/2-rater), 251 'Paradise,' ancient and modern notions of, 1, 2 Paraffin stoves, 307 Parsons, Mr., 239 Passengers in sailing boats, 218 'Pastime' (10-tonner), 327 Payne, A. E., builds the 'Humming Bird,' 65; the 'Vendetta,' 66; circular to Y.R.A., 96; 'Tootsie,' 228; tries the heavy lead fin-keel in 'Lady Nan,' 231; designs 'Decima,' 232; effort in 1889 to lower his colours, 235; his boats again head the list, 243; 'Mliss,' 244; two new five-raters, 245; 'Fiera,' 247; 'Avadavat,' 247; half-raters, 248; 'Cyane,' 254, 372; 'Alwida,' 372 Payton, W. E., his designs for the 'Trident' (1879), 'Olga' (1883), and 'Oona' (1886), 61-64; owner of the 'Oona,' 353; designer of the 'Luath,' 353; perishes in the 'Oona,' 354; his 3-tonner 'Currytush,' 354 Pearce, Sir G., 247 'Pearl' (5-tonner), 330; dimensions, 331 Peel, Isle of Man, 401 'Peg Woffington,' G. L. Watson's little cutter, characteristics of, 57 Pembroke and Montgomery, Earl of, on yacht's sailing boats, 187 _et seq._ Penang to Galle, from, time occupied by 'Sunbeam,' 26 Pender, Henry Denison, R.N.V., 44 Peninsular and Oriental Company build the 'Himalaya,' 75 Perceval, P., his 'Glycera' (5-rater), 242; 255 Percy, Lord, centreboard boat built for him at Boston, U.S., in 1774, 103 'Pet' (5-tonner), 328 'Phantom' (176 tons), 139 'Pilgrim' (American yacht), her dimensions, 69, 179 Platinum as ballast, 80 Pleasure fleet of England, progress of the, 12 'Pleiad,' 116, 119-122 Plunket, Mr., of Belfast, 353 Plymouth, 8; sea disturbance at, 365; 366, 403 Policies, insurance, laying up, 411 Polperro, 403 'Polynia' (2-1/2-rater), 251 Popham, F. L., 141 Port Darwin to the Cape, from, time occupied by 'Sunbeam' under sail and steam, 27 Port Patrick, 365 Port Phillip, 400 Port Rush, 402 Portland Bill, 403 Portsmouth to Brindisi, from, time occupied by 'Sunbeam' to, 27; to Naples, 'Sunbeam's' performance under sail, 27 Portsmouth, conference of Solent clubs at, in 1887, 228, 403 Portsmouth Harbour, 377 Portugal, coast of, 42 Post entries, 160 Potash, caustic, for removing varnish, 379 Powell, W. Baden. _See_ Baden-Powell Power, Mr., owner of the 'Olga' (5-tonner), 352 Premiums in insurance, 411 Prevention clauses, insurance, 410, 411 Priddy's Hard, 377 Prince of Wales's Cup, race for, in 1871, 126; in 1872, 132; in 1873, 135; becomes the absolute property of Mr. J. Mulholland, in 1874, 137 Pritchett, R. T., staff officer of the 'Hornet,' 43; on sliding keels and centreboards, 102 _et seq._ Private matches, 151 'Problem,' built at Kirkcaldy in the early fifties, plan of, 54 Programmes, race, 153, 154 Protection clauses, insurance, 411 Protests, 158, 159, 162 'Punch,' quoted, 128 'Pup' (1-rater), 251 Pure length rating rule, 182 'Puritan' (American sloop), in the International Race for the America Cup, 22 'Queen' (15-tonner), 345 Queen's Cup, Cowes, 11, 113 'Queen Mab' (centreboard cutter), 65; dimensions, 66-68; 105; 'Queen of the 40-raters' for 1892, 105, 106; 175; (2-1/2-rater), 233, 237, 245, 354 Queenstown, 43, 44; sea disturbance at, 366, 401 Queenstown Model Yacht Club, 57 'Quinque' (5-rater), 180, 241, 242, 246, 255 'Quiraing,' plan of her immersed counter, 58 Race Officers, Duties of, 156-159 Racing, advice upon, 395; the jibsheet, 395; the spinnaker, 396; weight aft, 397; insurance clauses, 410, 411 Racing rules, summary of, in King & Co.'s Almanac for the Solent Racing, 151. _See_ Y.R.A. Racing yachts, evolution of the modern, 50 _et seq._ Ramsey, Isle of Man, 401 Rankine, Maquorn, his papers on surface friction, 85 Rathlin Island Sound, 402 Rating-cheaters, 359 Rating rules and proposals, tables of, 183, 184. _See_ Y.R.A. Rating supersedes tonnage rule, 93 Ratsey, Charles, advocates cotton sails, 77 Ratsey, Linn, yacht-builder, 72 Ratsey, Michael, 20, 72, 83, 101, 113, 115; builds the 'Livonia' schooner, 126; the 'Corisande,' 134; the 'Cetonia,' 136, 141 Ratsey, Mr., 232 'Raven' (10-rater), 230 'Rayonette' (8-tonner), 332 Reaching courses, 359 'Red Lancer' (5-rater), 371, 373 Reid, James, of Port Glasgow, devises the 'dog-legged' sternpost, 57; designs the 'Florence,' 60 'Resolution,' H.M.S., accident to, 14 'Reverie' (43 tons), 113 Richardson, Alexander, of Liverpool, 98, 101 Richardson, John, his 'Evadne' (206 tons), 112; and 'Corisande' (140 tons), 134 Richardson, Mr., on rating rules, 173, 181 Richardson, Mr., designer of the 'Urchin' (5-tonner), 345 Ridsdale, H. W., 96, 238, 248 Robertson, Mr., of Ipswich, builder of the 'Alouette' (5-tonner), 332 Robertson, Mr., of Sandbank, Holy Loch, 335 Rogers's movable anchor stock, 384 'Rogue' (1-rater), 251 Romans, the, as lovers of the sea, 39 'Rose' (5-rater), 230 'Rose of Devon,' in the race from the Nore to Dover, of 1870, 120 Roskilde, from the fiord, 313 Rothesay, wind-force at, 174 Rouen, 402 Rowley, Mr., 134 Royal Albert Yacht Club, 225, 229, 247 Royal Clyde Yacht Club, 413 Royal Danish Yacht Club, 44 Royal Irish Yacht Club Regatta, 352 Royal London Yacht Club, rule arranged for measurement in 1854, 56; 138, 225, 226, 229, 247 Royal Navy, condition of the, 12, 13 Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers of London, Liverpool, Bristol, and Glasgow, 42 _note_ Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club, 224, 229, 250 Royal Southampton Yacht Club, 224; its excellence, 226; 229, 250 Royal Southern Yacht Club, 223, 225, 229 Royal Thames Yacht Club, rule adopted by, for measurement in 1854, 56; possessors of Commodore Taylor's pennants and ensigns, 105; open the 1866 season, 113; the Channel match of 1870, 119; 361 Royal Victoria Yacht Club, 223, 225, 229, 247 Royal Yacht Squadron, one of its original objects to encourage seamanship, 4; arrange a race without time allowances round the Isle of Wight, 110; the races arranged for the Jubilee year, 140; dates from early in the century, 223; 229, 247 'Royalist,' 21 Rudston Read, Mrs., 236, 244 Russell, Scott, his system of construction, 73, 74; on speed, 87 Rutland, Duke of, 117 Ryde, 115, 122, 133, 225, 403 Ryde to Havre, from, 312 Sail-area, 160; rating rule, 181 Sailing boats, a yacht's, pleasures and advantages of, 187; two typical sails, 189-196; best build, 196; stability, 197; the lifeboat question, 198; copper and wooden air-tight compartments, 198; shape of stern, 199; counter and side, 199; centreboard, 199-201; wooden false keel, 200; sloop rig, 201-205; yawl rig, 204; tiller, 205; ballast, 205; Earl of Pembroke's 'Black Pearl's' cutter, 200, 203, 206, 208; description of Colonel Gamble's 'Aline' lifeboat, 206-208; handling and management, 210; professional assistance, 210; handling single-handed, 211; in rough weather, 212; reefing, 212; balance reefs, 213; in a beam sea, 213; running before a strong wind and a dangerous sea, 214; steering, 214; in wind squalls under the lee of the land, 215; things worth remembering in handling, 217-219; mooring, 219; never 'moon,' 219 Sail-carrying power defined, 363 Sailing committees, duties of, 152; making of programmes, 153, 154; form of race advertisements, 153; Solent class regulations, 154; the race card, 154; dealing with protests, 158 Sailing masters, duties of, 162-164 Sailing rules. _See_ Y.R.A. Sailing yachts with auxiliary steam power, 24 Sails, character of British-made, previous to 1851, 74 St. Clare Byrne, Mr., M.I.N.A., his 'Valiant,' 21; designer of the 'Sunbeam,' 24 'St. George' (871 tons), 21 St. George's Channel, character of the sea in, 365, 366 St. Ives harbour, 370 St. Malo, 8 Salcomb, 403 Salt meat for foreign cruises, 305 Sandy Hook, wind-force at, 174 'Sappho' (American schooner), 116, 120, 121; her races against the 'Cambria,' 123; 129, 131; beats the 'Livonia' in the fourth match of the race for the America Cup in 1871, 131, 134 Sark, 402 'Satanita' (161.58-rating, Y.R.A.), 23; dimensions, 69; 179 'Savourna' (5-rater), 245, 246, 255 Schanks, Captain, designer of the 'Trial' revenue cutter, 104, 107 Schenley, George, 244 Schenley, Mrs., 235, 237, 242 Schooner racing, reasons for the decadence of, 108, 109; large tonnage of yachts in early times, 109 Schooners, inability to compete with cutters, 109; new method of rigging, in 1855, 111 Scilly Isles, 8 Scotland to Plymouth, from, voyage of 'Cyprus,' 349-351 Scotland, West Coast of, 8, 9; as a cruising ground, 37, 400 Scott's 'Meteorological Notes,' 405 Scows, or floating blinds, 103, 105 'Seabelle' (153 tons), 136; her race against the 'Egeria' in 1875, 138 'Seabird' (126 tons), 78 Sea-fishing, 190-193 Seamanship, 37 Secretary, club, duties of, at regattas, 154 Secretary, Y.R.A., checking a sailmaker's measurements, 165 Seine, the, as a cruising ground, 37 'Selene,' 78 Sesmaisons, Count de, 117 Seth-Smith, C. E., C.B., R.N.A.V., on Corinthian deep-sea cruising, 41 _et seq._; captain of the 'Hornet' in 1880 and 1881, 44 Sewanhaka Yacht Club, on the rating rules, 171, 173, 176, 179, 181 Shanklin Bay, 47 Shannon, the, as a cruising ground, 401 'Shark' (204 tons), 117, 121, 137 Shelley, Sir Percy, 111 'Shipbuilding, Theoretical and Practical,' cited, 85 Ship-chandlers, home and foreign, 306 Shuldham, Captain, R.N., pivots sliding keels (1809), 105 Sicily, yachting round, 38 Siemens-Martin steel, 80 'Siesta' (127 tons), 116 Simonosaki to Aden, from, time occupied by 'Sunbeam,' 26 Simons, of Renfrew, 73 Simpson & Dennison, of Dartmouth, builders of 'Doris' (5-tonner), 354 Simpson, Mr., success of his 'Tottie' on the Thames, 231 Skaw, the, 308, 309 Skippers, yacht, 7 Skye, 9, 215, 216 'Sleuthhound' (54-rater), built without fittings, 82, 141 Sliding keels and centreboards, 102-107 Slie, the, 309 Sloyne, the, 325, 327, 401 Smith, Colonel F. J., R.E., his merit-formula, 230 Smith's anchor, 382, 383 Solent, the, as a cruising ground, 38; crack cutters of forty-five years ago, 52; wind-force on, 174; small yacht racing on the, 222 _et seq._; attractive features, 222; advantages for yachting, 223; 'length classes' introduced, 173, 224; their collapse, 227; classes, 227; (10-raters), in 1889, 233; 237, 359; sea disturbance in, 366; racing in, 374 Solent Yacht Club, 229 Sooji Mooji, for removing varnish, 379 Soper, J. M., 96; designer of the 'Black Pearl's' cutter, 206, 248 'Sorella,' 224 Sound of Raasay, phenomenal squalls in, 216 South Atlantic, 26, 295, 300, 304 South Pacific, 26 Southampton, conference of Solent clubs at, in 1887, 228, 402 Southampton Water, 222, 224 Southsea, 225 Spain, coast of, as a cruising ground, 38, 42 Sparks, Mr., 252 Spartel Bay, 45 Spezia, 38 'Sphinx,' 114 Spirit stoves, 307 Spithead, sea disturbance at, 366 'Spray of the Ocean' (cutter), 20 'Spruce' (1/2-rater), 246, 250 'Squirrel,' Sir G. Pearce's, 247 Starkey, F., 135 Start, the, at races, 157, 158 Steam launches, as adjuncts to sailing yachts, 8; 188, 198 Steam versus sail yachting, 3-5, 223 Steam yachts, cost of building and manning, 23 Steamship hands, 4 Steele, Messrs., build the 'Wave' with a metal keel, 53; 77 Steele, William, designs the 'Nyanza,' 'Oimara,' 'Garrion,' and 'Selene,' 77 Stephens, Mr., of Southampton, 235 Sternpost, the raking, introduced, 54; 'dog-legged,' 57 Stevens, Commodore, his 'Black Maria,' 106 Stewart, Mr., 249 Stone, Mr., designer of the 'Squirrel,' 247 Storey, Mr., designer of the 'St. George,' 24 'Stork' (2-1/2-rater), 251 Storms, law of, 35 Stoves for cooking, 307 Stowe, Mr., of Shoreham, builder of the 'Diamond' (5-tonner), 331 Straits of Gibraltar, 38 Studding-sails, duck, 30 Suez Canal, the, closes the era of China clipper ships, 77 Sullivan, Sir Edward, Bart., on yachting, 1 _et seq._ Summers, Mr., 245 Summers & Payne, 245 'Sunbeam,' 20; date of launch, 24; designer, 24; details of construction, 24; dimensions of spars, 25; performances at sea, 26; best run under steam, 26; most successful continuous performance, 26; best runs under sail, 26; average speeds of longer passages, 26; boilers, 27; cruises in the Mediterranean, 27; table of distances, times, and winds, 28; in a storm off Flamborough Head, 31-33; in a long gale from Nassau to Bermuda, 34; in a dirty night between Honolulu and Japan, 35 Sutton, Sir Richard, 115, 141 Svendborg, 44, 309 Swanage, 132, 403 Sweden as a cruising ground, 404 Sydney Harbour, 400 Tamar River, 403 Tangier, 45 Tanks, water, 305 'Tar Baby' (5-rater), 234 Tasmania, discovered to be an island, 102 _note_, 104 Tatchell, E. R., 146 Taylor, Commodore, of the Cumberland Sailing Society, his yacht 'Cumberland' with five sliding keels, 104 Taylor, Harry, 136 Taylor, Richard, 104, 105 Taylor, Robert, 105 Teignmouth, cargo boats fitted with sliding keels at, 104 Tennyson, Lord, his cruise in the 'Sunbeam,' 19 'Thalassa,' on racing rules and the rules of rating, 146 _et seq._; on small yacht racing in the Solent, 222 _et seq._ 'Thalassa' (2-1/2-rater), 228, 231, 233, 234, 236, 241 'Thalia' (57 tons), her dimensions, 66-68 Thames, for many years the centre of yachting, 223 Thames Iron Works Shipbuilding Company, build the 'Mosquito' (1848), 75 'Thames Rule' of 1854, the recognised method of measuring yachts, 56; minor influences, 57; 182, 323 Thellusson, Charles, 111, 115, 117, 139 'Thief,' 65, 233, 234, 237, 245 'Thistle' (of 1887), sketch of her cutwater, 60; her advantages of beam, 65; built without fittings, 82; her displacement, 93; competes for the America Cup, 111 'Thistle' (of 1889), disadvantage of the sacrifice of surface in the, 88, 89 Thomas & Nicholson, Messrs., of Southampton and Gosport, characteristics of their anchor, 383, 384 Thompson, G. B., on the rating rules, 168; owner of the 'Olga' (5-tonner), 353 'Tiara' (of 1850), system of construction, 73, 74 Tilley, of Southampton, 301 _note_ Time allowance, 15; rules concerning, 169-174 Timing yachts at races, 158 Tinned meats, 305, 306 'Tiny' (1/2-rater), 246, 248, 250 'Titania' (184 tons), the Marquis of Ailsa's, 47, 113 'Titu' (2-1/2-rater), 232 Tomlinson, W. A., his 6-ton yacht 'Wyvern,' 325 Tonnage-cheaters, 344, 345 Tonnage rule, all-absorbing question of, in modern yachting, 50; changed to that of rating, 93 'Tootsie' (afterwards 'Minnow'), Mr. Payne's, 228 Torbay, 403 'Torment' (5-tonner), 330, 331 'Torpedo,' Mr. Stewart's, 249 'Torpid,' 77 Torquay, 140, 403 Torquay Regatta, 373 'Tottie' (2-1/2-rater), 231 'Trial' (Admiralty revenue cutter), 104; sheer draught of, 107 'Trident' (5-tonner), tables and diagrams showing length and displacement, 61-63; a handy boat, 352 Trinidad, 38 Trotman's anchor, 382 'Troublesome' (2-1/2-rater), 241, 244 Turner, William, 136 Turning-point of maximum efficiency, or best length, 174 Twenty-pound clause, Insurance, 408, 409 'Ulerin' (10-tonner), 354 'Undine' (2-1/2-rater), 247 Union des Yachts Français, its new rating rule, 179, 180 'Valentine' (5-rater), 180, 241, 242, 245 'Valhalla' (1,400 tons), 21 'Valiant' (2,350 tons), 21 'Valkyrie,' Lord Dunraven's, victorious career of, 11; her defeat in American waters, 11, 12; 22; development of beam in, 23; spinnakers, 30; dimensions, 69; minus fittings when racing for the America Cup, 82; profile, 82; the question of superiority of centreboard, 107; unduly handicapped by American conditions, 111; sail-area, 172 _note_ Valparaiso to Yokohama, from, time occupied by 'Sunbeam,' 26 Vanderbilt, Mr., his 'Valiant,' 21 'Vanderdecken's' tonnage-cheater, 55; design, 56 'Vanduara' (90 tons), first design for, 59; G. L. Watson's belief in carrying it out, 87 Varnishing, 378, 379 'Varuna' (40-rater), diagram of profile, 55; dimensions, 66-68 Veile, 309 'Vendetta' (40-rater), dimensions, 66-68; beam, 71 'Verena' (7-rater), 230 'Verve' (10-tonner), 81 'Victoria' (H.M.S.), loss of, 14 'Vigilant,' American yacht, defeats the 'Valkyrie' of Lord Dunraven, 11, 22; dimensions, 69, 71; minus fittings when racing for the America Cup, 82; profile, 82; a wholesome type of vessel, 101; her designers, 106; sail area, 172 _note_ 'Viking' (140 tons), 113, 141 'Viola' (5-tonner), 331 'Virago' (6-tonner), 332 Virgil, quoted, on the sea, 39 'Volante,' loses her bowsprit by collision while racing against the 'America,' 110 'Vol-au-Vent,' cutter, of 1875, 83 'Volunteer,' American yacht, compared with the 'Thistle' of 1889, 88; 180 'Vril' (5-tonner), dimensions, 61-63, 334; designed by G. L. Watson, 333; turned into a fast cruiser, 334; matches with 'Freda,' 337-341 Wages, racing, of a yacht's crew, 10 Wales, H.R.H. Prince of, accidents to his yacht 'Britannia' in 1893, 10; victorious career of his vessel, 11; H.R.H. a familiar sight in yacht-racing, 12, 22, 82; offers a cup for 100-tonners in 1870, 121; 141 Waller, Mr., 231 'Wanderer' (850 tons), steam yacht, method of construction, 78 Wanhill, Mr., of Poole, introduces the raking sternpost, 54; builds the 'Egeria,' 112 Warsash village, 238 'Wasp' (American keel boat), 106 Water ballast, 206; for foreign cruisers, 305 Waterman, Tom, designer of the 'Mosquito' (50 tons), 75; and of the troopship 'Himalaya,' 75 'Waterwitch' (160 tons), 140 Watson, G. L., designer of the 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie,' 22; on the evolution of the modern racing yacht, 50 _et seq._; elements of his 5-tonners 'Vril' and 'Doris,' 61-64; and of his 40-raters 'Deerhound,' 'Creole,' 'Varuna,' and 'Queen Mab,' 66, 82, 96; builds 'Dora' and 'Queen Mab' with centreboard, 105; on rating rules, 171, 176, 177; his 'Tottie' (2-1/2-rater), 231; his 2-1/2-raters, 235; 5-raters, 242, 245, 323, 346, 372; part owner and designer of the 'Vril,' 333; designer of the 'Doris,' 354; his spoon-shaped bow, 358; designer of the 'Natica' (5-rater), 373 Watson, S. C., owner of the 'Lethe' (163 tons), 79 Watson, Sidney, owner of the 'Chipmunk' (2-1/2-rater), 231 Watson, Mrs. Sidney, 237 Watson, T. L., F.R.I.B.A., 82 'Wave,' John Cross Buchanan's, fitted with a metal keel, 53 Webb, Beavor, owner of the 'Freda' (5-tonner), 337; sails her in her matches with 'Camellia' and 'Vril,' 344 'Wee Winn,' rig of, 357; bulb keel, 360 Weguelin, Charles, designer of the 'Alouette' (5-tonner), 332 Weisbach's experiments on the flow of water through pipes, 85 Weld, Joseph, 22, 71, 73, 111, 113 'Wenonah,' rig of, 357; bulb keel, 360 West Indian negro crews, 298, 307 West Indies as a cruising ground, 38; ports of the, 298, 306 West, T. B. C., 235, 237 Weymouth, 403 Weymouth, Mr., designer of the 'Phantom' (176 tons), 139 Whales, 189 'Whimbrel,' 224 White, Mr., boatbuilder, of Cowes, 113, 198, 201 'Wildfire' (59 tons), her rigging, 111 Wilkinson, Arthur, owner of the 'Phantom' (176 tons), 139 Willan, Major Frank (Y.R.A.), 146 Williams, General Owen, owner of the 'Enchantress' 141 Wilton, Earl of, his steam yacht 'Palatine,' 9 'Windfall' (5-rater), 245, 246, 251, 254, 255 Wire rope, 76, 80 'Witchcraft' (240 tons), 113, 116 Wivenhoe, 136, 140, 453 Wolff, Mr., hon. sec. Royal Southampton Yacht Club, 225 'Wonderful' (10-tonner), 331 Wood, Nicholas, owner of the 'Corinne' (162 tons), 136 Woodd, A. B., R.N.A.V., 44 Woods, John, skipper of the 'Egeria,' 119 Wythes, Mr., owner of the 'St. George,' 24 'Wyvern' (6-tonner), her voyage from Kingstown to Liverpool, 326, 327; build and dimensions, 328, 329 'Xantha' (135 tons), yawl, 113; wins the R.T.Y.C. race from the Nore to Dover in 1866, 114 'Yacht and Boat Sailing,' Dixon Kemp's, on the rules of racing, 150, 335, 346 'Yacht Architecture,' Dixon Kemp's, quoted, 172; on racing rules, 176; on rating rules, 179, 231 Yacht-building, American pre-eminence in, 11 Yacht club, object and duties of a, 152 Yacht, internal economy of a, 8; minstrelsy, 7; sailors, 6; and their wages, 10; necessaries, list of, 394 Yacht Racing Association, the, procrastination of, 58; their new rule regarding tonnage, 65; their circular to yacht-builders and designers in 1892, 95; 99, 109; the object of its foundation, 146; secretary and councillors, 146; qualifications of membership, 146; election of councillors, 147; measurement fees and subscriptions, 147, 148; alterations in rules, 149; rules for the guidance of the council, 149; racing rules, 150; duties of a designer, 151; private matches, 151; club and open matches, 152; duties of a yacht club, 152; duties of a sailing committee, 152; duties of a club secretary, 154; duties of race officers, 156; duties of owners, 159; duties of a sailing master, 162; duties of an official measurer, 164; rating rules, 167; length and sail-area rule, 168; the time allowance, 169; turning point of maximum efficiency, 174; the new French rule, 179; sail-area rule, 181; the pure length rule, 182; tables of rating rules and proposals, 183, 184; girth rating rule, 185; 224, 225, 227, 229, 238; rule for 5-tonners and under, 323; for 5-raters, 355; rating by length and sail-area, 356, 357, 363 Yacht racing, expense of, 10 Yacht racing, small, development of, 223; profitable to clubs, 223 Yachting, compared economically with Continental travelling, 11; began with this century, 51; reasons for its pre-eminence as a manly sport, 322; clauses concerning insurance, 407-411 Yachts, little individuality of form previous to 1820, 71; equipment subsequent to that date, 76; variety of type under present length and sail-area rule, 50; advantages of racing in small, 223 'Yachtsman,' cited, 51; on the rules of racing, 150; on girth, 181; 255 _note_ Yachtsmen, qualities of, 322 Yalme, the, 403 Yarborough, Earl of, 108 Yarmouth, Isle of Wight, 403 Yawls, 300 Yolla metal, 80 York, Mr., secretary of the Royal Clyde Yacht Club, 413 'Yvonne' (10-rater), 233 'Zarita' (115 tons), 20 'Zephyr' (9-tonner), 332 Zuider Zee, cruising in the, 309, 316 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON 
41973	----	The Badminton Library of SPORTS AND PASTIMES EDITED BY HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEAUFORT, K.G. ASSISTED BY ALFRED E. T. WATSON _YACHTING_ II. [Illustration: Old Flags.] YACHTING BY R. T. PRITCHETT THE MARQUIS OF DUFFERIN AND AVA, K.P. JAMES McFERRAN REV. G. L. BLAKE, T. B. MIDDLETON EDWARD WALTER CASTLE AND ROBERT CASTLE G. CHRISTOPHER DAVIES, LEWIS HERRESHOFF THE EARL OF ONSLOW, G.C.M.G., H. HORN SIR GEORGE LEACH, K.C.B., VICE-PRESIDENT Y.R.A. [Illustration: Yachts.] IN TWO VOLUMES--VOL. II. _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY R. T. PRITCHETT AND FROM PHOTOGRAPHS_ LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1894 _All rights reserved_ CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME CHAPTER PAGE I. ROYAL YACHTS AND ENGLISH YACHT CLUBS 1 _By R. T. Pritchett, Marquis of Dufferin and Ava, K.P., James McFerran, and Rev. G. L. Blake._ II. SCOTTISH CLUBS 72 _By R. T. Pritchett and Rev. G. L. Blake._ III. IRISH CLUBS 99 _By R. T. Pritchett, Rev. G. L. Blake, and T. B. Middleton._ IV. THE THAMES CLUBS AND WINDERMERE 152 _By Edward Walter Castle, Robert Castle, and R. T. Pritchett._ V. YACHTING ON THE NORFOLK BROADS 190 _By G. Christopher Davies._ VI. YACHTING IN AMERICA 227 _By Lewis Herreshoff._ VII. YACHTING IN NEW ZEALAND 287 _By the Earl of Onslow, G.C.M.G._ VIII. FOREIGN AND COLONIAL YACHTING 304 _By R. T. Pritchett and Rev. G. L. Blake._ IX. SOME FAMOUS RACES 324 _By R. T. Pritchett._ X. RACING IN A 40-RATER IN 1892 332 _By R. T. Pritchett._ XI. YACHT RACING IN 1893 349 _By H. Horn._ XII. THE AMERICAN YACHTING SEASON OF 1893 400 _By Lewis Herreshoff._ XIII. THE AMERICA CUP RACES, 1893 416 _By Sir George Leach, K.C.B., Vice-President Y.R.A._ APPENDIX: THE 'GIRALDA' 425 INDEX 427 ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE SECOND VOLUME (_Reproduced by J. D. Cooper and Messrs. Walker & Boutall_) FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS ARTIST TO FACE PAGE OLD FLAGS _R. T. Pritchett_ _Frontispiece_ HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN GOING TO SCOTLAND " 6 THE ROYAL YACHT 'VICTORIA AND ALBERT,' 1843 " 8 'PEARL,' 'FALCON,' AND 'WATERWITCH' " 12 'MYSTERY' WINNING THE CUP PRESENTED BY R.Y.S. TO R.T.Y.C. " 14 'CORSAIR,' R.Y.S., WINNING THE QUEEN'S CUP AT COWES, 1892 " 16 YACHT CLUB BURGEES _Club Card_ 48 'IREX' _From a photograph by Adamson_ 58 'YARANA' " 64 'ARROW,' ROYAL CINQUE PORTS YACHT CLUB, 1876 _R. T. Pritchett_ 68 'REVERIE' _From a photograph_ 70 NORTHERN YACHT CLUB CRUISING OFF GARROCH HEAD, 1825 _From a painting by Hutcheson_ 76 ROYAL NORTHERN YACHT CLUB, ROTHESAY _From a photograph by Secretary_ 78 THE START FOR ARDRISHAIG CUP _From a photograph by Adamson_ 84 'MARJORIE' " " 86 'MAY' " " 88 'THISTLE' " " 90 'LENORE' " " 92 'VERVE' " " 94 YACHT CLUB FLAGS 104 'ERYCINA' _From a photograph by Adamson_ 106 ROYAL IRISH YACHT CLUB CUP, KINGSTOWN, 1873 _From a picture by Admiral Beechy_ 108 MERMAIDS OF DUBLIN BAY SAILING CLUB 146 START OF 25-TONNERS, R.T.Y.C., FROM GREENWICH, 1848 _R. T. Pritchett_ 170 'DECIMA' _From a photograph by Symonds_ 176 'GIMCRACK' _R. T. Pritchett_ 240 MODEL ROOM OF NEW YORK YACHT CLUB _From a photograph sent by Secretary N.Y.Y.C._ 242 'BLACK MARIA,' SLOOP, BEATING 'AMERICA,' SCHOONER, IN TEST RACE, NEW YORK, 1850 _Sent by Mr. Stevens of Hoboken, New York_ 244 INTERNATIONAL RACE, 1886; 'GALATEA' PASSING SANDY HOOK LIGHTSHIP _Photograph sent by Lieutenant W. Henn, R.N._ 258 'VOLUNTEER' _From a photograph sent by General Paine, N.Y.Y.C._ 262 'VALKYRIE' _From a photograph by Adamson_ 308 'YSEULT' " " 328 'IVERNA' AND 'METEOR,' DEAD HEAT IN THE CLYDE, JULY 4, 1892 " " 330 'QUEEN MAB' " " 346 'SAMOENA' " " 352 ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT ARTIST PAGE VARUNA, VENDETTA, AND LAIS (_Vignette_) _Title-page_ DUTCH YACHT. (_From drawing by Vandervelde, dated 1640_) _R. T. Pritchett_ 2 'EEN BEZAN JAGT,' 1670 " 3 LINES OF CUTTER, 1781 _From Stalkart's 'Naval Architecture'_ 4 YACHT STERN, 1781 " 5 COWES CASTLE. (_From drawing by Loutherburg_) _R. T. Pritchett_ 10 SEAL OF ROYAL YACHT CLUB, COWES _R.Y.S._ 11 'PEARL,' R.Y.S. _R. T. Pritchett_ 13 'DOLPHIN,' R.Y.S. " 14 'ESMERALDA,' R.Y.S. " 14 'DE EMMETJE,' LUGGER " 15 'NEW MOON,' R.Y.S. " 16 CHART OF THE ROYAL YACHT SQUADRON--(QUEEN'S COURSE) 19 'THE LADY HERMIONE' _From working drawings lent by Marquis of Dufferin_ 26 'THE LADY HERMIONE,' DECK PLAN " 28 'THE LADY HERMIONE,' FITTINGS " 30 'FOAM,' R.V.S. 'IN HIGH LATITUDES' 38 VIEW FROM THE ROYAL WESTERN YACHT CLUB, PLYMOUTH _R. T. Pritchett_ 40 CHART OF THE ROYAL WESTERN YACHT CLUB. PLYMOUTH COURSE _Club Card_ 41 CHART OF THE ROYAL VICTORIA YACHT CLUB COURSE _Club Card_ 44 INTERNATIONAL GOLD CUP. ROYAL VICTORIA YACHT CLUB. WON BY 'BRITANNIA' _R.V.Y. Club_ 45 FIRST RACE OF THE MERSEY YACHT CLUB, JUNE 16, 1845 _R. T. Pritchett_ 47 'QUEEN OF THE OCEAN,' R.M.Y.C., SAVING EMIGRANTS FROM 'OCEAN MONARCH' " 47 CHART OF THE ROYAL MERSEY YACHT CLUB COURSES _From Club Card_ 48 CHART OF THE ROYAL PORTSMOUTH CORINTHIAN YACHT CLUB COURSES " 51 'MADGE,' 1880--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _G. L. Watson_ 53 'NEPTUNE,' CUTTER, 1875--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _W. Fife_ 61 'REVERIE,' 1891--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _J. M. Soper_ 70 NORTHERN YACHT CLUB SEAL _From Secretary R.N.Y. Club_ 72 CHART OF THE ROYAL NORTHERN YACHT CLUB COURSES _Club Card_ 73 ROYAL NORTHERN FLAGS _From Secretary R.N.Y.C._ 75 'GLEAM,' 1834--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Fife of Fairlie_ 78 CHART OF THE ROYAL CLYDE YACHT CLUB COURSES _From Secretary_ 80 'CLARA'--MIDSHIP SECTION _W. Fife_ 91 CHART OF THE ROYAL FORTH YACHT CLUB COURSES _Club Card_ 97 YACHTS OF CORK WATER CLUB, 1720 _R. T. Pritchett_ 101 CHART OF THE ROYAL CORK YACHT CLUB _Club Card_ 103 CORK WATER CLUB PUTTING OUT TO SEA, 1720 _R. T. Pritchett_ 105 CHART OF THE ROYAL ST. GEORGE'S YACHT CLUB COURSES 107 OUTWARD BOUND _Honourable Artists of the 'Iris'_ 125 'IRIS'--SECTION " 127 'IRIS'--SECTION SHOWING PERMANENT LEGS " 128 THE BAILEY, DUBLIN BAY " 130 'GRAPHIC' ARTISTS AT WORK DURING THE GALE OF OCTOBER 5, 1892 " 132 HER MAJESTY'S MAILS " 134 STORM WITHOUT, CALM WITHIN " 135 KINGSTOWN, DUBLIN BAY " 137 RINGSEND, DUBLIN " 141 MONKSTOWN, DUBLIN BAY " 143 IRELAND'S EYE " 144 'KING'S FISHER,' 1776 _R. T. Pritchett_ 151 COMMODORE THOMAS TAYLOR, OF THE CUMBERLAND FLEET, 1776 _From a Family Portrait in possession of Robert Taylor, Esq._ 152 'KING'S FISHER,' 1770--LINES _Original Lines_ 153 'KING'S FISHER,' 1770--MIDSHIP SECTION " 154 'BUTTON,' 1776 " 155 FIRST 'CUMBERLAND,' 1780--MIDSHIP SECTION " 157 FIRST 'CUMBERLAND,' 1780--LINES " 158 SECOND CUMBERLAND, 1790--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION " 160 YACHT OF CUMBERLAND FLEET, 1781 _R. T. Pritchett_ 161 CIRCULAR OF CUMBERLAND FLEET, 1775 163 OFFICERS' BADGE, R.T.Y.C. _R. T. Pritchett_ 168 'MYSTERY' PASSING 'BLUE BELLE,' 1843 " 170 'PHANTOM,' R.T.Y.C., 1853 " 171 'CYGNET,' 1846 " 172 'DIS,' 1888--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _J. M. Soper_ 176 'TOTTIE,' ROYAL CORINTHIAN YACHT CLUB _Photograph_ 177 UPPER THAMES SAILING CLUB AND CLUB HOUSE, BOURNE END, BUCKS _R. T. Pritchett_ 181 UPPER THAMES STEAM YACHT 'CINTRA' _Photograph_ 182 'FEELING IT' OFF THE FERRY (_From a photograph by Brunskill, of Windermere_) 184 A FAIR START. ROYAL WINDERMERE YACHT CLUB " 185 LIMIT ANGLE OF COUNTER _Club Book_ 186 SMART BREEZE FOR RACING WINDERMERE _Brunskill, of Windermere_ 186 CHART OF THE ROYAL WINDERMERE YACHT CLUB COURSE _Club Card_ 187 FAIR WIND ROUND THE BUOY _Brunskill, of Windermere_ 188 CALM WEATHER " 188 THE 'GREYHOUND' _R. T. Pritchett_ 191 THE FISHER'S HOME, THE BROADS " 192 REGATTA TIME " 196 WROXHAM PLEASURE CRAFT " 198 WROXHAM BROAD " 200 SMOOTH-WATER BOWSPRIT " 202 RIVER WAVENEY CRAFT " 206 'GREYHOUND'--MIDSHIP SECTION _G. C. Davies_ 210 'GREYHOUND'--LINES OF " 211 'CASTANET' _R. T. Pritchett_ 215 HULL OF THE 'CASTANET' " 216 'MYSTERY' THAMES BOAT ('FOREIGN' BOAT) " 218 A START " 221 IN THE GLOAMING " 223 BIRDS OF A FEATHER " 225 COMMODORE STEVENS, FOUNDER OF THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB _Photo sent by Mr. Stevens, of Hoboken, U.S.A._ 227 R.Y.S. CUP WON BY THE 'AMERICA,' 1851 228 'TROUBLE'--1816, MIDSHIP SECTION _Herreshoff_ 237 'MARIA,' SLOOP, 1846--MIDSHIP SECTION " 238 'WAVE,' 1832--MIDSHIP SECTION " 238 'ONKAHYA,' 1839--MIDSHIP SECTION " 239 'AMERICA,' 1851, N.Y.Y.C. _R. T. Pritchett_ 246 'AMERICA'--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Hunt's Magazine_ 248 'SHADOW,' 1872 _Photo, Stebbins, Boston_ 250 'SHADOW,' 1872--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Herreshoff_ 251 MIDSHIP SECTION OF AMERICAN YACHTS " 253 'GRACIE'--SAIL PLAN " 254 'GRACIE,' 1868--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION " 255 'PURITAN,' 1885, N.Y.Y.C. _Photo, Gubalman, New York_ 260 'GOSSOON,' KEEL BOAT, 1890 _Photo, Stebbins, Boston_ 264 'GLORIANA,' 1892 " 265 'WASP,' 1892 " 267 FIN-KEEL AND BULB _Herreshoff_ 268 'CONSUELO,' CAT-YAWL " 269 HERRESHOFF CATAMARAN " 270 NEWPORT (CENTREBOARD) CAT-BOAT " 271 'CONSTELLATION,' 1889, N.Y.Y.C. _Photo, Stebbins, Boston_ 274 THE UBIQUITOUS CAT-BOAT _R. T. Pritchett_ 277 FRASCATI AND PIERHEAD AT HAVRE " 304 CHART OF HAVRE REGATTA COURSES _Club Card_ 305 HARBOUR AT HAVRE _R. T. Pritchett_ 306 CHART OF NICE REGATTA COURSES _Club Card_ 307 LATEEN YACHTS, BOMBAY CLUB, 1887 _R. T. Pritchett_ 315 CHART OF THE ROYAL BOMBAY YACHT CLUB SAILING COURSE _Bombay Card_ 317 FITTED RACES AT BERMUDA, 1863 _R. T. Pritchett_ 319 BERMUDA RIG " 322 DUTCH ICE BOAT OF PRESENT TIME " 323 'WATERWITCH' V. 'GALATEA,' 1834 START OF RACE FOR 1,000 GUINEAS " 325 'CORSAIR' V. 'TALISMAN' RACE (1842), RUNNING DOWN CHANNEL _R. T. Pritchett, from a picture by Condy_ 326 'CORSAIR' V. 'TALISMAN' RACE (1842), THE RETURN " 327 'CORSAIR,' 1832--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION _Michael Ratsey, of Cowes_ 328 'BRILLIANT' AND 'ARIEL' RACE, 1830 _R. T. Pritchett_ 329 GOING ALOFT " 333 DIAGRAMS SHOWING OLD AND NEW STYLES IN AFT SECTIONS OF 40-RATERS _J. M. Soper_ 335 DIAGRAMS SHOWING RECENT STYLES IN FORE SECTIONS OF 40-RATERS _J. M. Soper_ 336 'IREX'--MIDSHIP SECTION _A. Richardson_ 337 'IREX'--LINES _Designed by Alexander Richardson_ 338 'CORSAIR'--GENERAL ARRANGEMENTS PLANS _A. E. Payne_ 339 'CORSAIR'--MIDSHIP SECTION " 340 LASHING THE EMPEROR'S RACING FLAG _R. T. Pritchett_ 341 OUR MASTHEAD MAN " 341 'ALL AFT, MY SONNIES!' " 342 'ANOTHER PULL AT THE MAINSHEET, MY LADS!' " 342 CLOSE HAULED " 343 REAL BUSINESS " 344 TORQUAY " 346 CHART OF CHANNEL RACING WESTWARD 347 A CLOSE FINISH, 'QUEEN MAB' AND 'CORSAIR' _R. T. Pritchett_ 348 'IVERNA,' 1890 _Designed by Alexander Richardson_ 354 'IVERNA'--LINES AND MIDSHIP SECTION " " 355 CHART OF THE THAMES, HARWICH AND CINQUE PORTS COURSES _F. S. Weller_ 357 'CALLUNA' _From a Kodak photograph_ 361 CHART OF THE ROYAL ULSTER YACHT CLUB, BELFAST COURSES _From Club Card_ 367 CHART OF THE ROYAL IRISH YACHT CLUB, DUBLIN BAY COURSES " 371 'NAVAHOE,' N.Y.Y.C. _From a Kodak_ 372 CHART OF THE ROYAL SOUTHAMPTON YACHT CLUB, WARNER AND LYMINGTON COURSE _Club Card_ 379 CHART OF THE ROYAL ALBERT YACHT CLUB, SOUTHSEA COURSE " 381 CHART OF THE TORBAY REGATTA COURSE " 383 'SATANITA' _From a Kodak_ 385 CHART OF THE START BAY YACHT CLUB, DARTMOUTH, COURSE _Club Card_ 387 CHART OF THE ROYAL DART YACHT CLUB, KINGSWEAR, COURSES " 389 'DRAGON III.' _From a Kodak_ 398 CHART OF THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB. REGATTA COURSE _N.Y.Y. Club Sec._ 405 'VIGILANT,' CUP DEFENDER _From a photograph by Stebbins, Boston, Mass._ 406 'VALKYRIE' _Adamson, of Rothesay_ 408 CHAPTER I ROYAL YACHTS AND ENGLISH YACHT CLUBS ROYAL YACHTS BY R. T. PRITCHETT The innate love of the English for everything connected with seafaring, roving and adventure, burst prominently forth in the time of Queen Elizabeth, when Drake and Raleigh showed what could be done in small craft in 'ocean cruising,' and, with early Corinthian crews from Devon and the brave West, sallied forth and straightway laid the foundation of our navy, and our present numerous fleet of yachts. In 1604 an early designer, one Phineas Pett, built a yacht for Henry of Wales; and to him the Navy was much indebted for general improvement in line and build throughout the early part of the Stuart dynasty. At the Restoration we begin in earnest the History of Yachting, and find King Charles II. taking most enthusiastically to yacht building and even racing. That mine of wealth for the details of every-day life, that minute recorder of modes and fashions, Samuel Pepys, Esq., F.R.S., Secretary to the Admiralty, first brings to our notice the aquatic taste of His Majesty. In his delightful 'Diary' we find:-- _July 15, 1660._--Found the King gone this morning by 5 of the clock to see a Dutch pleasure boat below bridge, where he dines and my Lord with him. In a further notice we find His Majesty winning the first yacht race in the Thames, over the course of the R.T.Y. Club, Greenwich to Gravesend and back--a wager of one hundred guineas. _January 13, 1660-1661._--Lord's Day. To the Globe to dinner, then to Commissioner Pett, to his lodgings there, which he hath for the present while he is building the King's yacht, which will be a very pretty thing and much beyond the Dutchman's. _January 15._--The King hath been this afternoon to Deptford to see the yacht that Commissioner Pett is building, which will be very pretty, as also that his brother Christopher Pett (son of Phineas Pett) at Woolwich is making. [Illustration: Dutch yacht. From drawing by Vandervelde dated 1640.] _November 8._--On board the yacht, which indeed is one of the finest things that ever I saw, for neatness and room in so small a vessel. _May 21, 1661._--To Deptford and took barge and were overtaken by the King in his barge, he having been down the river in his yacht this day for pleasure to try it; and I hear Commissioner Pett's do prove better than the Dutchman, and that his brother did build at Woolwich. _October 1, 1661._--Between Charles II. and his brother the Duke of York for 100 guineas. Sailing match from Greenwich to Gravesend and back. The King won. _July 22, 1662._--Lord Sandwich in yacht to Boulogne in foul weather. _September, 1662._--By water to Woolwich, on my way saw the yacht lately built by our virtuosoes. My Lord Brunkard and others, with the help of Commissioner Pett also, set out from Greenwich with the little Dutch 'Bezan' to try for mastery; and before they got to Woolwich the Dutch beat them half a mile. And I hear this afternoon that in coming home it got above three miles, which all our people were glad of. _July 31, 1663._--Sir William Petty's vessel, which he hath built on two keeles, a model whereof built for the King he showed me, hath this month won a Wager of 50_l._ in sailing between Dublin & Holyhead with the ... Pacquett boat. The best ship or vessel the King hath there, and he offers to lay with any vessel in the world. [Illustration: 'Een Bezan Jagt,' 1670.] It is about thirty tons in burden, and carries 30 men with good commodation, as much more as any ship of her burden also as any vessel of this figure shall carry more men. She carries 10 guns of about 5 tons weight. In coming back from Holyhead they started together, and this vessel came to Dublin by 5 at night and the Pacquett boat not before eight the next morning.[1] [Footnote 1: Sloane MSS., Brit. Mus., and model sent to, and deposited by, Petty in Wadham College.] _September 17, 1665._--Lord's Day. To church to Gravesend in the 'Bezan' yacht, and then to anchor for all night--and with much pleasure at last to sleep--having very good lodging upon cushions in the cabbin. [Illustration: Cutter, 141 tons, from Stalkart's 'Naval Architecture,' 1781.] _October 1, 1665._--Lord's Day. Embarked on board the 'Bezan.' ... After supper on board the 'Bezan,' then to cards for a while and so to sleep; but Lord! the mirth it caused me to be waked in the night by the snoring around me. 1690.--Macaulay in his 'History' mentions a yacht. Caermarthen's eldest son--bold and volatile, fond of the sea, and living much among sailors--had a small yacht of marvellous speed. 1697.--Peter the Great is known to have added to the advancement of sailing and building yachts during his visit to this country. 1720-1737.--The Water Club of the harbour of Cork was established, to be held once every spring tide in April to the last in September, inclusive. The details of this doyen club will be found in its proper place, p. 99 _et seq._ [Illustration: Yacht stern, 1781.] Amidst all the voluminous MSS. of the Admiralty secured and appropriated by Samuel Pepys, it is unfortunate that no sketch or drawing of the Royal yacht of Charles II. is to be found. Search is vain among the papers at Cambridge, where most of the Diarist's gleanings are preserved. We must, therefore, start with existing Royal yachts, beginning with that built for King George III. in 1814, and now lying in Portsmouth Harbour. The Royal yacht 'Royal George' was laid down at Deptford, May 1814, designed by Sir Henry Peake, Surveyor of the Navy, and she was launched at Deptford in July, 1817. Her dimensions were as follow: ft. in. Length between perpendiculars 103 0 " keel for tonnage 84 4-1/2 Breadth, extreme 26 8 " for tonnage 26 6 Depth of hold 11 6 Burden in tons, 330 tons. The 'Royal George' was used on Her Majesty's accession, 1837; she was rigged as a ship, and was remarkable for excellent sailing qualities. The captain appointed was Lord Adolphus FitzClarence, G.C.B., &c. The 'Royal George' was laid up in Portsmouth Harbour, in charge of the Master and only fitted out when specially required for Royal service. The lieutenants, mates, assistant-surgeon, and crew were stationed on board a 10-gun brig, H.M.S. 'Pantaloon,' attached to the Royal yacht as tender. This vessel was employed in looking after fishermen, carrying mails, and on other services that might be required. 'Esmeralda,' cutter, under command of the second master, was also attached to the Royal yacht as tender. On November 7, 1842, a new steam yacht, 'Victoria and Albert,' was laid down at Pembroke Dockyard, and on April 26 next year she was launched. She was designed by Sir William Symonds, Surveyor of the Navy. Construction: diagonal principle, Dantzic oak without, horizontal planking of Italian larch. This yacht, it may here be stated, was subsequently, when a new 'Victoria and Albert' was built, known as the 'Osborne.' _Dimensions_ ft. in. Length 200 0 Extreme length 225 0 Beam 39 0 Over paddle-boxes 59 0 Speed 11.5 knots, and commissioned at Blackwall, July 1, 1843. In 1844, it is to be noted, it was ordered that the Royal yacht should carry the Royal standard at the main, the Admiralty flag at the fore, and the Union Jack at the mizzen, which order remains in force at the present time. In this year, it should perhaps be added, the Queen stayed at Osborne House, and in the following year the estate was purchased from Lady Isabella Blatchford by Her Majesty. The steam yacht 'Fairy' (screw) was built at this period. [Illustration: Her Majesty The Queen going to Scotland.] ft. in. Length 160 0 Beam 21 0 Burden, 317 tons. Speed, 13.25 knots, and carrying 18 tons of coal. The paddle steam yacht 'Elfin' appeared in 1849. It was built at Chatham, from the design of Mr. Oliver Lang, of mahogany and on the diagonal principle. ft. in. Length over all 112 3 Length 103 6 Beam 13 2 Over boxes 25 6 Burden in tons, 96 tons. Speed, 12 knots. Draught, 4 ft. 10 in. H.P. nominal 40. Indicated 192 H.P. Amongst interesting details which should here be recorded, it may be remarked that in August of this year Her Majesty in the Royal yacht visited Cork, and the Cove was henceforth called Queenstown. As regards the speed and capacity of the 'Victoria and Albert,' her capabilities for long cruises were tested in 1850. Leaving Plymouth Sound June 26, 8.45, she arrived in the Tagus off Belem, June 29, 3.10. Distance 772 miles in 66 hrs. 25 mins. Average speed 11-6/10 knots. Tried at a measured mile with anthracite and Merthyr coal mixed, three years afterwards, her average speed was 11 knots. A new yacht, under the temporary name of the 'Windsor Castle,' was started at Pembroke in February 1854, but a few weeks later its progress was suspended to facilitate work for the Baltic and Black Sea fleets. On January 16, 1855, the 'new' 'Victoria and Albert' was launched and christened, and the name of the old yacht (built 1843) changed to 'Osborne.' The new 'Victoria and Albert' was designed by Oliver Lang, Master Shipwright at Pembroke Yard. ft. in. Length figure-head to stern 336 4 " between perpendiculars 300 0 Beam outside paddle boxes 66 6 Burden in tons 2,342 tonnage Breadth of wales 40 0 Diameter of paddle-wheel 31 0 h. p. Engines' power nominal 600 Indicated 2,700 miles knots Speed 16.813 14.592 July 23 17.762 15.416 Her Majesty's first cruise in the new yacht took place on July 12, and next day she steamed round the Isle of Wight in 3 hrs. 25 mins. The 'Victoria and Albert' proved an excellent sea-boat. In a heavy gale soon afterwards four line-of-battle ships drove; but Captain Denman reported of the new Royal yacht, 'Splendid sea-boat, and rode out the gale with extraordinary ease, not pitching at all, or bringing the smallest jerk on the cable.' As for speed, she was tried from Cork to Madeira, and returned from the island, 1,266 miles, at an average rate of 10.8 knots. Cork to Portsmouth, 341 miles, 22 hrs. 7 mins., average 15.4 knots, is also noted. The new yacht 'Alberta' (paddle steamer) was built in 1863. ft. in. Extreme length 179 0 Extreme breadth 22 8 Over paddle-boxes 41 0 Burden in tons, 390. Coal stowage, 33 tons. Speed, 14 knots. All the fittings of the Royal yachts are as simple as possible, but the perfect quality of material is not to be surpassed. The appointments on these vessels are as follows: The commander, three years; lieutenants, two years. One promoted at end of each year. Names of all officers to be submitted to the Queen. [Illustration: The Royal Yacht 'Victoria and Albert,' 1843. (_First cruise_, 1843.)] The 'Victoria and Albert' always lies off Cowes during the Queen's residence at Osborne in the summer. During the winter, when the Queen is at Osborne, she is in Portsmouth Harbour. The 'Alberta' always brings the Queen from Gosport to Cowes, and _vice versâ_, and, as a rule, members of any Royal family. The 'Elfin' runs regularly with messengers, bringing despatches as may be from time to time required; the whole fleet is under the command of Admiral Fullerton, A.D.C., who is always on board any of the yachts in which the Queen may embark. The 'Osborne' brings the Prince of Wales across to Cowes in the summer, when the Prince and Princess and family live on board, remaining generally for about three weeks. The 'Osborne' is an independent command, being the Prince's Royal yacht. The grandest view of the Royal yachts is obtained when Her Majesty inspects a fleet at Spithead. On these occasions the 'Victoria and Albert,' with the Queen and Royal family, the Lords of the Admiralty in attendance on board, is preceded by the Trinity yacht 'Irene,' the 'Alberta' being on the starboard, and the 'Elfin' on the port quarter. Next come the Admiralty yacht 'Enchantress,' and the Lords and Commons,--generally in troopships such as the 'Himalaya,'--others according to precedence. The stately five-knot approach of these vessels is always very impressive, and forms a nautical pageant well worthy of the Queen of England and Empress of India, who has bestowed such munificent patronage on the various yacht clubs of her realms, having presented since the Accession no fewer than seventy-two valuable challenge cups to be sailed for by all classes, besides the annual cups to the R.Y.S. since 1843. The details of these will be recorded later on. THE ROYAL YACHT SQUADRON The present club-house of the Royal Yacht Squadron is of no modern date, but a continuance of Cowes Castle, a fort built in the time of Henry VIII. for the protection of the Medina River, which runs south and forms a fine harbour for laying-up yachts of all sizes and classes, with building yards on either side; and a very busy scene it presents during the fitting-out season. The Castle was continued as a fort, and on the death of the last Governor, the Marquis of Anglesey, who was a very great patron of yachting small and great, the Marquis Conyngham took a lease of the property from the Crown and passed it on in 1856 to the Royal Yacht Squadron, which was established in 1812, as the seal shows. In 1815 a meeting of the then club was held at the Thatched House Tavern, St. James's Street, Lord Grantham in the chair, supported by Lords Ashbrook, Belmore, Buckingham, Cawdor, Craven, Deerhurst, Fitzharris, Kirkwall, Nugent, Ponsonby, Thomond, Uxbridge, Sirs W. Curtis, J. Hippesley, G. Thomas, Godfrey Webster, Colonels Sheddon and Wheatley, &c. when new life was infused into the Association, and from that time the Squadron has held the proud position of being the first yacht club in the world, with the much-envied privilege and distinction of flying the White Ensign. [Illustration: Cowes Castle, from drawing by Loutherburg.] After 1815, the R.Y.S. met for some years at the Medina Hotel, East Cowes, and later on the Gloucester Hotel, at West Cowes, was taken for the club-house, close to the Fort and Castle, whither, as just remarked, they moved in 1856. It was at once rebuilt and enlarged. The situation is beautiful, backed by large elm-trees. The platform commands a grand view--towards the Motherbank, Ryde, and the Forts to the eastward, with Calshot Castle, Portdown Hill, and Southampton Water to the northward, and, away to the westward, Lymington. [Illustration: Seal of Royal Yacht Club, Cowes.] Two of the old guns, formerly in the Fort, have been happily preserved, and are now placed in the grounds which have recently been added to the Castle property on the west side, towards Egypt. _The History of the Royal Cups_ The first Royal Cup was presented by His Majesty King William IV., 1830, to be competed for by yachts belonging to members of the Squadron; and the gift was continued during His Majesty's reign. The table appended furnishes details. +------+----------+------+------+----------------+ | Year | Yacht | Rig | Tons | Owner | +----- +----------+------+------+----------------+ | 1830 | Alarm |Cutter| 193 | Jos. Weld | | 1831 | Alarm | " | 193 | Jos. Weld | | 1832 | Alarm | " | 193 | Jos. Weld | | 1833 | -- | -- | -- | -- | | 1834 | Harriet | " | 65 | G. W. Heneage | | 1835 | Columbine| " | 90 | J. Smith-Barry | | 1836 | Breeze | " | 55 | James Lyons | | 1837 | Amulet | " | 51 | J. Mecklam | | 1838 | Alarm | " | 193 | Joseph Weld | +------+----------+------+------+----------------+ At a meeting of the Royal Yacht Squadron in 1837, it was moved and seconded: 'That the Commodore be requested to seek an interview or audience with Her Majesty, with a view to the continuance of the Royal Cup to be presented to the Yacht Club at Cowes.' The request was graciously accorded. The list of Cups presented by Her Majesty is given on p. 18. On the occasion of the Emperor and Empress of the French visiting Osborne, and landing in Osborne Bay in 1857, the Royal Yacht Squadron boats formed an escort round the Royal barge. [Illustration: 'Pearl,' The 'Falcon' _351 tons_ (_Earl of Yarborough_), 'Waterwitch.' _Off Spithead with the Royal Yacht Squadron on their voyage to Cherbourg_, 1832.] The Squadron has always been characterised by the large and powerful class of vessels composing it; and the oil picture now hanging in the dining-room at the Castle, painted by W. Huggins, 1835, shows the leading craft of that date, with the Commodore's yacht in the centre. This is the 'Falcon,' 351 tons, full ship rigged, carrying eleven guns on the broadside. The 'Pearl,' 130 tons, belonging to the Marquis of Anglesey, is coming up on the left side, dipping her gaff-topsail to the Commodore, who is under topsails with top-gallant sails loose; in the distance is a yacht, 'Pantaloon,' belonging to the Duke of Portland, brig rigged, with her topsail aback; a large schooner and several cutters are included. An engraving of this picture is lettered thus: 'The Right Honourable Lord Yarborough's yacht "Falcon," of 351 tons, off Spithead with the Royal Squadron, on their voyage to Cherbourg. Painted by W. Huggins, Marine Painter to His Majesty, and published by him at 105 Leadenhall Street. January 10, 1835. This was a grand period in the club's history for large yachts. These included the 'Pearl' and 'Alarm' cutters, and the schooners 'Dolphin' (217 tons), 'Xarifa,' 'Kestrel,' and 'Esmeralda.' A picture of this schooner, by Condy, is still in the possession of Lord Llangattock of The Hendre. Then came the 'Arrow' cutter of 'Chamberlayne' fame, with the well-known parti-coloured streak. She won and won until she was requested not to enter, which was hardly reasonable, as the enthusiastic owner improved her year by year, and kept well ahead of his day. [Illustration: 'Pearl,' R.Y.S., 130 tons (Marquis of Anglesey). Launched 1821.] In 1843 the Royal Yacht Squadron gave a cup to be sailed for by the Royal Thames Yacht Club at Cowes. A very good picture of the race was painted by Condy of Plymouth. At that time the 25-tonners were the representative craft in the Thames, and 'Mystery,' 'Blue Bell,' 'Phantom,' 'Cygnet,' and 'Gnome' were generally to the fore. When the Thames matches were sailed there were invariably some representatives from the Royal Yacht Squadron to attend the racing, and everyone looked out for the white ensign. The 'Pearl,' belonging to the Marquis of Anglesey, always ran up alongside the club steamer, and dipped her ensign as her owner waved his glazed hat, standing by the gunwale of his grand craft. In those days there certainly was intense enthusiasm about the 25-tonners, and great was the enjoyment they afforded the visitors. [Illustration: 'Dolphin,' R.Y.S., 217 tons, 1839. (G. H. Ackers, Esq.)] In 1851 the Royal Yacht Squadron gave a cup to be sailed for, and it was won by the 'America' schooner, belonging to Commodore J. C. Stevens, of the New York Club. In America it is always called the Queen's Cup, and in England the 'America' Cup, but it is really the Royal Yacht Squadron Cup. The Americans have held it ever since. [Illustration: 'Esmeralda,' R.Y.S., 1846.] [Illustration: The 'Mystery' Winning the Cup Presented by R.Y.S. to be Sailed for by Yachts of R.T.Y. Club. (_August 1843_.)] Luggers as yachts were common. In 1827 Lord Harborough had a large lugger, the 'Emmetje,' of 103 tons, of which he was so proud that he entered Ramsgate Harbour flying the coach whip of the Royal Navy, until the officer of the Coastguard came on board and hauled it down. Some thirty years afterwards came a revival when Lord Willoughby De Eresby brought out in 1859 his celebrated lugger the 'New Moon.' She was larger than Lord Harborough's--209 tons, 134 ft. long, 18 ft. 5 in. beam, constructed at Hastings. Her highest speed was attained on long reach, and was shown on the occasion of her racing back to Harwich. In a fine breeze she went away from the other yachts, going 14 or 15 knots; but ill fate awaited her; she had to make two boards to fetch the Cork Lightship and the Bell Buoy. That was her destruction; the time taken to dip the enormous lugs in going about allowed the others, who had been nearly hull down, to overhaul her, so necessary is it to have a craft that comes round like a top with canvas easily handled. [Illustration: 'De Emmetje,' lugger, 103 tons, 1827 (Lord Harborough).] The Jubilee of the Yacht Club was celebrated at Cowes in 1865, and another notable event took place on the occasion of the Queen's Jubilee, June 21, 1887. A procession of the Royal Yacht Squadron manoeuvred in two columns, canvas and steam, finishing up with a signal from the Commodore: 'Steam ahead full speed.' A drawing of this spectacle, by Sir Oswald Brierley, is at the Castle, Cowes. [Illustration: 'New Moon,' R.Y.S., 209 tons, 1859 (Lord Willoughby De Eresby).] The fastest yachts in the Royal Yacht Squadron are shown, of course, in the list of Queen's Cup winners, which forms a befitting annual history. Yachting in early days, however, was real yachting in its truest sense, cruising about, that is to say, for the sake of peace and rest; the vessels were generally schooners of considerable tonnage for sea cruising. We have no longer 'Alarm,' 248 tons, 'Aurora Borealis,' 252 tons; but the faithful 'Egeria,' 152 tons, belonging to Mr. Mulholland, now Lord Dunleath, is still with us. In 1852-53 there were only two steam yachts in the Squadron, which was averse to the new comers; but by degrees a fine schooner class with auxiliary steam was introduced, including, of well-known boats, 'Sunbeam,'[2] 1874; 'Czarina,' 1877; 'Wanderer' and 'Lancashire Witch,' 1878. New members from 1890 to 1892 added 7,000 tons to the fleet, principally steamers up to 1,000 tons and more. [Footnote 2: Described by Lord Brassey, in his chapter on Ocean Cruising, Vol. I.] [Illustration: 'Corsair,' R.Y.S., Winning the Queen's Cup at Cowes, 1892. _40-rater_ (_Admiral the Hon. Victor Montagu_).] The squadron at the time of writing is composed of 227 members, and the fleet consists of 107 vessels, as follows: 44 steam yachts, 10 steam schooners, 28 schooners, 13 cutters, 12 yawls, 107 vessels, making 20,367 total tonnage. The minimum tonnage is 30 tons register for sailing vessels, and 30 tons net for steamers (rule, May 1870). The Queen's Cups are sailed for by yachts belonging to members of the Royal Yacht Squadron only, but other prizes are given during the Squadron Week, generally the first week in August. _Names and dates of yachts owned by H.R.H. the Prince of Wales_ +----+------------+----------+---------+ |Date| Name | Rig | Tonnage | |----+------------+----------+---------+ |1865| Dagmar | Cutter | 36 | |1871| Alexandra | " | 40 | |1872| Princess | " | 40 | |1873| Zenobia | S.-steam | 38 | |1877| Hildegarde | Schooner | 205 | |1880| Formosa | Cutter | 104 | |1882| Aline | Schooner | 210 | |1893| Britannia | Cutter | 220 | +----+------------+----------+---------+ Beside several steam launches and sailing boats. The German Emperor, who became a member in 1891, in that year brought over the 'Meteor,' _née_ 'Thistle,' to compete for the Queen's Cup, and evinced the greatest enthusiasm, sailing in her for the prize, August 3. The 'Meteor' finished first, but the 'Corsair,' 40 tons, Rear-Admiral Victor Montague, R.N., came up with a smart breeze, saved her time, and won. Much interest was also taken in the presence of a 40-tonner, designed by Mr. G. L. Watson for Prince Henry of Prussia, and steered by the Prince, who seemed thoroughly to enjoy it, and remained all day at the tiller--a sort of thing the British public fully appreciate. Unfortunately the wind was not true. The Queen has always graciously encouraged yachting in every way. The list of challenge cups presented by Her Majesty will amply confirm the assertion. _List of Yacht Clubs to which the Queen has occasionally given Regatta Cups_ Royal Yacht Squadron (Cowes) Every year since 1843, annually Dublin Yacht Club 1849 Royal St. George's Club 1851, 1866, 1870, 1874, 1878, 1884, 1892 Royal Thames Club 1851, 1868, 1874, 1880, 1885 Royal Victoria (Ryde) Club 1851, 1852, 1856, 1888 Royal Southern Club 1851, 1857, 1870, 1891 Royal Irish Club 1852, 1865, 1871, 1877, 1881, 1885 Royal Cork Club 1850, 1852, 1858, 1865, 1869, 1889 Royal Yorkshire Club 1853 Royal Mersey Club 1853, 1857, 1861, 1866, 1881 Royal Western (Plymouth) Club 1858, 1861, 1867, 1878, 1882 Royal Northern Club 1859, 1869, 1882, 1890 Royal West of Ireland Club 1863, 1867, 1873 Royal Cornwall 1871, 1884 Royal Alfred Yacht Club 1872, 1879, 1886 Royal Albert Club 1873, 1890 Royal Cinque Ports Club 1875, 1891 Royal Clyde Club 1876, 1883, 1888 Royal Ulster Club 1880, 1887 Royal Harwich Club 1883 Royal London Club 1886 Royal Dorset Club 1887 Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Club 1889 Royal Forth Club 1892 _Cups given by the Queen to Clubs not Royal_ Canada Yacht Club 1891 Upper Thames Sailing Clubs (Challenge Cup) 1893 [Illustration: Royal Yacht Squadron. Queen's Course.] The majority of members of the Squadron own, and chiefly use, large yachts, but not a few of them are practical seamen. One prominent member, Lord Dufferin, is specially notable as a keen devotee of single-handed sailing, and is the owner of a famous boat, 'The Lady Hermione.' The Editor has thought this an appropriate place to insert a description of the pastime kindly contributed by his lordship, followed by an account of his well-known boat. SINGLE-HANDED SAILING BY THE MARQUIS OF DUFFERIN AND AVA The wind blows fair, the vessel feels The pressure of the rising breeze, And, swiftest of a thousand keels, She leaps to the careering seas. The following description of 'The Lady Hermione' has been written by my friend Mr. McFerran, who is a much better sailor than myself; but, as the Editor has asked me to prefix a few observations of my own on single-handed boat sailing, I have great pleasure in recommending to the attention of the readers of the Badminton Library that exceptionally pleasant form of sea adventure. Probably the proudest moment of the life of anyone who loves the sea, not even excepting the analogous epoch of his marriage morning, is the one in which he weighs anchor for the first time on board his own vessel. It is true that from the first hour he could call her his own his existence has been a dream of delight, unless perhaps for the passing cloud cast by the shadow of the cheque he has been required to draw for her payment. As soon as she has come into his possession, her ungainly naked bulk, as she lies upon the mud, assumes divine proportions; and as by slow degrees her 'toilette' proceeds, her decks whiten, her masts assume a golden hue and clothe themselves with sail and rigging, his happiness becomes unspeakable. If he is animated by the proper spirit, he has at once set himself to learn navigation; he has plunged deep into the 'Sailor's Manual'; and, to the amazement of his female relations, he is to be seen busily employed in tying and untying knots on short pieces of rope. But his principal preoccupation is the fitting of his cabins. The mystery of the ship's practical garniture he leaves to his master, as being beyond the utmost effort of his intellect, though he has a certain satisfaction in knowing that he possesses a pretty accurate knowledge of the way in which the framework of the vessel has been put together. At last everything is reported ready. He gives the order to weigh anchor, and, as if by a magical impulse, he finds that the being upon whom he has lavished so much affection has become a thing of life, has spread her wings, and is carrying him into the unknown. He paces the deck with telescope under his arm, in the proud consciousness that he is absolute master of her movements, and that with a wave of his hand he can direct her to the golden islands of the west or to the fabled homes of Calypso and the Cyclops, according as his fancy may suggest. No emperor or autocrat has ever been so conscious of his own majesty. But soon a most unwelcome and humiliating conviction damps his exaltation. He discovers that for all practical purposes of command and government he is more incompetent than his own cabin-boy or the cook's mate: that the real ruler of the ship's movements and destiny is his 'master,' whom his crew call the 'captain'; and that the only orders he can issue with a certainty that they are not open to criticism are those he gives for his breakfast and his dinner, if indeed he is in a position to partake of either. Officially he is gratified with the ambiguous title of 'owner,' while he is painfully conscious that his real social status is that of a mere passenger, and that this unwelcome servitude has every likelihood of enduring during his whole career as a yachtsman. He may indeed, as a man of education, or perhaps of scientific attainments, become in course of time a better navigator than many of the splendid rough and ready sailormen who command the ships of our squadron; but, unless he has been able to spend more time on board than their multifarious occupations allow most owners of yachts to devote to seafaring, he must know that it is idle for him to pretend to compete either in seamanship or experience with the man whom he employs to sail his vessel for him. In short, he remains an amateur to the end of the chapter, and, if he is sensible and honest, is always ready to acknowledge himself the disciple of the professional sailor. But in single-handed boat sailing this humiliating sense of dependence and inferiority disappears. For the first time in his life, no matter how frequent may have been his cruises on bigger vessels, he finds himself the _bona fide_ master of his own ship, with that delightful sense of unlimited responsibility and co-extensive omnipotence which is the acme of human enjoyment. The smallness of his craft does not in the slightest degree diminish the sense of his importance and dignity; indeed, there is no reason why it should. All the problems which task the intelligence and knowledge of the captain of a thousand-tonner during the various contingencies of its nautical manoeuvres have to be dealt with by him with equal promptness and precision. Anchored in a hot tideway and amongst a crowd of other shipping, he has perhaps a more difficult job to execute in avoiding disaster when getting under way or picking up his moorings than often confronts under similar circumstances the leviathans of the deep; and his honour is equally engaged in avoiding the slightest graze or sixpence worth of injury either to himself or his neighbours as would be the case were a court-martial or a lawsuit and 5,000_l_. damages involved in the misadventure. The same pleasurable sentiments stimulate his faculties when encountering the heavy weather which waits him outside; for, though the seas he encounters may not be quite so large as Atlantic rollers, nor break so dangerously as in the Pentland Firth, they are sufficiently formidable in proportion to the size of his craft to require extremely careful steering, and probably an immediate reduction of canvas under conditions of some difficulty. Nor are even misfortunes when they occur, as occur they must, utterly devoid of some countervailing joys. He has neglected to keep his lead going when approaching land; he has misread the perverse mysteries of the tides, and his vessel and his heart stop simultaneously as her keel ploughs into a sandbank. The situation is undoubtedly depressing, but at least there is no one on board on this and on similar occasions to eye him with contemptuous superiority or utter the aggravating, 'I told you so.' Nay, if he is in luck, the silent sea and sky are the only witnesses of his shame, and even the sense of this soon becomes lost and buried in the ecstacy of applying the various devices necessary to free his vessel from her imprisonment. He launches his Berthon boat, and lays out an anchor in a frenzy of delightful excitement; he puts into motion his tackles, his gipsy winches, and all the mechanical appliances with which his ingenuity has furnished his beloved; and when at last, with staysail sheet a-weather, she sidles into deep water, though, as in the case of Lancelot, 'his honour rooted in dishonour stood,' the tragic origin of his present trial quickly fades into oblivion, and during after years he only recalls to his mind, or relates with pride to his friends, the later incidents of the drama. Another happiness attending his pursuit is that he is always learning something new. Every day, and every hour of the day, the elements of each successive problem with which he has to deal are perpetually changing. As Titian said of painting, seamanship is an art whose horizon is always extending; and what can be more agreeable than to be constantly learning something new in a pursuit one loves? I have heard it sometimes objected that single-handed boat-sailing is dangerous. Well, all sport is dangerous. People have been killed at golf, at football, and at cricket; nor is sitting in an easy-chair exempt from risk; but during an experience of five and twenty years, though laying no claim to much skill as a mariner, I have never had a serious accident, though occasionally a strong tide may have swept me whither I had not the least intention of going; nor have I ever done more than 10_l._ worth of damage either to my own vessel or my neighbour's. The principal thing one must be careful about is not to fall overboard, and in moving about the ship one should never leave go one holdfast till one's hand is on another. It is also advisable not to expose one's head to a crack from the boom as one is belaying the jib and staysail sheets in tacking, for it might very well knock one senseless. In conclusion, I would submit that to anyone wearied with the business, the pleasures, the politics, or the ordinary worries of life, there is no such harbour of refuge and repose as single-handed sailing. When your whole thoughts are intent on the management of your vessel, and the pulling of the right instead of the wrong string, it is impossible to think either of your breakdown in your maiden speech in the House of Commons, of your tailor's bills, or of the young lady who has jilted you. On the other hand, Nature, in all her beauty and majesty, reasserts her supremacy, and claims you for her own, soothing your irritated nerves, and pouring balm over your lacerated feelings. The complicated mysteries of existence reassume their primæval simplicity, while the freshness and triumphant joyousness of early youth return upon you as you sweep in a dream past the magic headlands and islands of the Ionian Sea or glide along the Southern coast of your native land, with its sweet English homes, its little red brick villages and homesteads nestling in repose amid the soft outlines of the dear and familiar landscape. The loveliness of earth, sea, and sky takes possession of your soul, and your heart returns thanks for the gift of so much exquisite enjoyment in the pursuit of an amusement as manly as it is innocent. N.B.--Single-handed sailing need not preclude the presence of a lady passenger. On the contrary, she will be found very useful on occasion, whether in starting the sheets, in taking a spell at the wheel (for they are all familiar with the art of despotic guidance), in keeping a sharp look-out, in making tea, or in taking her part in a desultory conversation. 'THE LADY HERMIONE,' SINGLE-HANDED SAILING YAWL BY JAMES MCFERRAN In the course of two summers passed on the shores of the Gulf of Naples the writer had frequent opportunities of becoming acquainted with the details of the construction, fittings, and equipment of a very remarkable little yacht, whose white canvas for a couple of seasons was constantly to be seen on that unrivalled sheet of water between the months of June and October. He has thought that a description of the vessel in question may prove interesting, not only to such of the readers of these volumes as are devoted to the art of single-handed sailing--that most delightful, manly, and invigorating of all sports--but also to the general body of yachtsmen who, during the summer and autumn months, fill, in ever-increasing numbers, our various yachting ports with the most perfect specimens of the shipwright's craft that the world can produce. 'The Lady Hermione,' as the vessel whose qualities and characteristics it is proposed to describe is called, is the property of Her Majesty's Ambassador at Paris, his Excellency the Marquis of Dufferin and Ava. His Lordship, as is well known, has from very early days been a keen yachtsman, and though for some time past he has had no opportunities of indulging in his favourite pastime in large yachts, he has long been devoted to sailing in vessels in which he comprises in his own person the hierarchy of owner, master, and crew. During the last fifteen years, in whatever part of the world he may have been, provided sailing were possible, he has never been without a little ship specially constructed for this form of amusement. In each succeeding vessel some new invention or arrangement for her safer, easier, and more efficient handling has suggested itself, and been worked out under the owner's direct supervision. In the present boat the development of the single-handed sailing yacht seems at last to have reached perfection, and it would hardly be possible for the most inventive mind to suggest an improvement in her. [Illustration: FIG. 1.--'The Lady Hermione.'] 'The Lady Hermione' is a yawl-rigged yacht (fig. 1), built by Forrest & Son, of Wivenhoe, to the order of her owner. She is 22 ft. 9 in. long between perpendiculars, 4 ft. 2 in. in depth, has a beam of 7 ft. 3 in., and a registered tonnage of four tons. She is built with mild-steel frames, galvanised so as to resist the corrosive action of sea-water--a mode of construction which has recently been adopted for torpedo-boats--and is sheathed with East Indian teak and coppered. A novel feature in the hull of so small a boat is its division into water-tight compartments by transverse and longitudinal bulkheads, composed of galvanised steel plates riveted to the steel frames. These bulkheads form a large forward compartment, two compartments on each side of the cabin, and a compartment at the stern, thus rendering the vessel water-tight as long as they remain intact. On the deck, forward and aft, are hatchways which give entrance to the bow and stern compartments respectively. The hatches to these openings, which are kept constantly closed at sea, are fastened down with strong gun-metal screws fitted with butterfly nuts, the screws being fastened to the deck and made to fold down on it with joint when not in use. The coamings of the hatchways, as well as the inner edges of the hatches themselves, are lined with india-rubber, so as to render the covers perfectly water-tight. Access to the side compartments is obtained by means of manholes opening from the cabin, and covered with steel plates screwed into the bulkhead. In the event of the yacht's shipping any water, it is removed by a pump leading through the deck near to the cockpit and within easy reach of the steersman's hand. The cover of the pump works on a hinge, and lies flush with the deck when closed. The pump-handle is made to ship and unship at will, and is in the form of a lever, which renders the operation of pumping more easy than in the ordinary form of pump usually employed in small boats (c, figs. 2 and 11). 'The Lady Hermione' is ballasted with lead, the greater portion of which is carried outside in the form of a keel, which weighs about two tons. On trial, it was found that the little craft was too quick on her helm--a quality which, however useful in racing vessels, is undesirable in a single-handed boat, where the operation of getting aft the sheets when going about naturally requires somewhat more time than it does when the crew is composed of more than one hand. In order to remedy this defect a deep oak keel has been fixed outside the lead keel, and has to a considerable extent answered its purpose. It has also added immensely to the boat's stiffness; and it is blowing very hard indeed when a reef requires to be taken down. In fact, owing to her deep build and her heavy outside keels, 'The Lady Hermione' is virtually uncapsizable, while her water-tight compartments render her unsinkable. It is impossible to overrate the value of these two elements of safety in a boat which is always worked by one person and is taken out in all weathers. Stepping on board 'The Lady Hermione,' the visitor, however much he is accustomed to yachts, is struck by the number and apparent complication of the contrivances which meet his eye (fig. 3), the interior of the vessel looking, as a witty naval officer once observed on being shown over her, 'something like the inside of a clock'; but, after a few explanations, the usefulness and practical efficiency of the various devices become evident. The principle which has been adhered to throughout in the rigging and fittings is, that all operations connected with the handling and management of the boat shall be performed by one person without the application of any considerable physical force. It has also been laid down as a _sine quâ non_ that everything shall work perfectly in all weathers and under all conditions of wind and sea. The result of the owner's ingenuity is, that the sails can be hoisted and lowered, the sheets attended to, the anchor let go and weighed, and the tiller fixed and kept fixed in any desired position, without the necessity of the one person, who composes the crew leaving the cockpit. The arrangements for carrying out these objects will now be described in detail. [Illustration: FIG. 3.--'The Lady Hermione.' Deck plan.] The first contrivance which claims attention is that for keeping the rudder fixed at any desired angle (figs. 4 and 5A). In his account of his cruise in the yawl 'Rob Roy' the late Mr. Macgregor says that he had never seen any really satisfactory method of accomplishing this object; but the difficulty has been solved by Lord Dufferin, who, indeed, has had fitted in many of his previous boats an apparatus similar to that in the present one. On the deck aft, about a couple of feet in advance of the rudder-head, are fitted two brass stanchions. These support a brass bar which on its lower side is indented with notches similar to the teeth of a saw, and of a depth of about half an inch (A, fig. 4). On the tiller there is fitted a brass tube or cylinder made so as to slide backwards and forwards within a limit of some eight or ten inches, and bearing on its upper surface a triangular fin of brass (A, fig. 5). When it is desired to fix the tiller in any particular position, the cylinder is instantaneously slipped back until the fin catches one of the notches of the bar, and the tiller is thus securely fixed. The tiller is unlocked by simply flicking forward the cylinder with the hand, the locking and unlocking being done in a second. The toothed brass bar, it may be mentioned, is curved so that the fin may fit into any desired notch, no matter at what an angle it may be desired to fix the rudder (A, fig. 4). The cockpit of the yacht being somewhat small, it was found that when there was a lady passenger on board the movement of the tiller interfered with her comfort, and, in order to obviate this difficulty, a steering-wheel has recently been fixed on the top of the cabin immediately in front of where the helmsman stands (fig. 6). When the wheel is used a short tiller is employed, with steel tackles leading from it through pulleys and fair-leads to the wheel itself. The axis of the wheel carries a brass cap fitted with a screw, by half a turn of which the steering apparatus can be locked or unlocked, and the helm fixed in any position. If it is desired at any time to substitute steering with the tiller for steering with the wheel, the process is very simple. A brass handle of the requisite length, and bearing a cylinder and fin as above described, is screwed on to the short tiller, and the tiller ropes are cast off, the whole operation being performed in a few seconds. The wheel, the stand for which slides into brass grooves on the cabin top, can also be unshipped and stowed out of the way in a very short time. [Illustration: Fittings of 'The Lady Hermione.'] We now proceed to examine the gear for letting go the anchor, which, though difficult to describe, will readily be understood from the drawing (fig. 7). The anchor, a Martin's patent, when stowed, rests upon two crescent-shaped supports, which project from the bulwarks just forward of the main rigging (A, A', fig. 7). These supports are fixed to a bar or tumbler lying close to the inside of the bulwark, and arranged so as to turn on its axis (B, fig. 7; and C, fig. 12). Fixed to the tumbler inboard there is a small bar which fits into a socket attached to the covering board. On the socket is a trigger (C, fig. 7, and D, fig. 12) from which a line leads along the inside of the bulwarks to within easy reach of the cockpit (D, fig. 7). By pulling this line the socket is made to revolve, so as to release the arm; the weight of the anchor forces the tumbler to turn on its axis, bringing down with it the crescent-shaped supports, and the anchor falls into the sea. This operation having been completed, it will probably be thought that now at last the crew must leave his point of vantage, and go forward to stopper and bit his cable. But no; we have not by any means yet reached the limits of ingenuity displayed in this extraordinary little ship. The chain cable runs out through a hawse-pipe in the bow, and across the hawse-hole a strong steel plate or compressor, with a notch cut in it to fit the links of the cable, runs in grooves. By pulling a line which leads to the cockpit this compressor is drawn over the hawse-hole, and the cable is thus effectually snubbed. When the anchor has to be got up, or it is required to let out more chain, the compressor can be drawn back by another line which also leads to the cockpit. These two contrivances for letting go and stopping the anchor, together with the apparatus for weighing it without leaving the cockpit, which will now be dealt with, get rid of that fruitful source of discomfort in boats manned by one hand--namely, the necessity of the solitary mariner's having to go forward to deal with his ground tackle at a time when perhaps he has other pressing calls on his attention in connection with the management of his vessel. Equally as ingenious as the means of letting go the anchor is the machinery employed for weighing it. The windlass used is an ordinary yacht's windlass, except that on its outer end on its starboard side it carries a cogged wheel (fig. 8). Close alongside the windlass there rises from the deck a spindle cut with an endless screw (A, fig. 9), the threads of which take the teeth of the cogged wheel. This spindle runs through the deck, and has at its lower extremity a cogged wheel (B, fig. 9), fitting into another cogged wheel attached to a shaft, which runs aft on bearings in the ceiling of the cabin to the cockpit (C, fig. 9). At the cockpit end it is furnished with a large wheel (D, fig. 9, and fig. 10), on turning which the motion is communicated through the shaft and a system of cog-wheels (figs. 9 and 11), to the Archimedian screw rising up through the deck forward, and this screw in its turn revolves the windlass, and the anchor comes merrily home. The slack of the chain, as it comes in, drops perpendicularly through the hawse-pipe to the chain-locker below, and requires no attention or handling. The machinery for getting the anchor possesses great power, and, even when the anchor has a tight hold of the bottom, the wheel in the cockpit can be turned almost with one finger. The wheel is made to ship and unship, and when not in use is hung up to the side of the cabin. As a general rule, especially when weighing in a crowded harbour, the anchor is simply hove up close to the hawse-hole until open water has been gained, the ropes carefully coiled down, and everything made snug and shipshape. The vessel is then laid to, or the helm fixed so as to keep her on her course, as circumstances may determine, and the crew goes forward to do the one thing he cannot perform from aft, the catting and fishing of his anchor. Suspended from the head of the mainmast is a tackle of the kind known to seamen as a 'Spanish burton,' with a long iron hook attached to its lower block. In fishing the anchor this burton is first overhauled, and, leaning over the bow, the operator fixes the hook in a ring let into the shank of the anchor at a point where the anchor exactly balances itself when suspended horizontally. He then passes the various parts of the fall of the tackle through an eye at the end of a fish-davit--similar in shape to the boat-davits used in large ships--which stands up from the deck close to the bulwarks, a little forward of the supports for the anchor already mentioned (A, fig. 12). By pulling on the hauling part of the burton the anchor is raised close to the end of the davit, and the davit, by an ingeniously arranged spring, on a lever at its base (B, fig. 12), being pressed with the foot, can be swung round until the anchor is suspended immediately above its resting-place, into which it is then lowered, the crescent-shaped supports already referred to having been previously placed in position, and the trigger locked. Here it rests in perfect security, and is ready to be let go by pulling on the line attached to the trigger. On the port side a second anchor is carried, an Admiralty pattern, weighing about fifty pounds, and secured in precisely the same way as the starboard or working anchor, though in weighing it the windlass is used with an ordinary ratchet, as the windlass barrel on the port side is not connected with the shaft previously described. It may here be mentioned that the starboard barrel of the windlass can also be used in the ordinary way, as the spindle with the endless screw already mentioned is made with a joint, so that it can be disconnected from the cogged wheel and laid down flat on deck out of the way whenever necessary (C, fig. 8; and D, fig. 9). We now pass on to what is the most important thing in all single-handed sailing boats, the arrangement of the halliards and sheets in such a manner that all operations connected with making and shortening sail can be performed from the cockpit. In 'The Lady Hermione' this essential principle has been carried out to its fullest extent. At the foot of the mainmast on each side is a brass fair-lead fitted with ten or twelve sheaves (figs. 13 and 14). Through these sheaves all the halliards (except, of course, those connected with the mizzen) are rove, and then led aft over the top of the cabin to within a few inches of the cockpit (fig. 3). Here they are belayed to a large belaying-pin rack which crosses the cabin top in front of the steersman and within easy reach of his hand (fig. 15). The frame of this rack is pierced with horizontal holes for the ropes to pass through, after which they are belayed to the pins, while the falls are allowed to drop down on to the cabin floor, where they are snugly coiled away in a box with a number of compartments which has been made to receive them. The object of passing the halliards through holes in the belaying-pin rack is to afford a straight pull when getting up sail, and to prevent the ropes from flying away out of the steersman's reach when they are let go. 'The Lady Hermione' is, or rather was originally, fitted with all the running rigging that would be employed in the largest-sized yacht, and this will give some idea of the number of ropes that have to be dealt with by one person:--main and peak halliards, two topping-lifts, tack tackle and tack tricing line, topsail tack, sheets, halliards, and clew line, jib and staysail halliards, and jib and staysail down-hauls. As originally rigged, main, peak, and jib purchases were employed for getting the mainsail and jib well up, but the introduction of the gipsy winches mentioned in the next paragraph rendered these ropes unnecessary, and they have consequently been dispensed with. The system employed, however, has always worked without the slightest hitch, and enables whoever may be sailing the boat to attend to all the halliards without leaving the helm. On the belaying-pin rack each pin has the name of the rope for which it is intended engraved on a small brass plate, so that no confusion can arise as to what part of the gear it may at any time be desired to deal with; though, after a little practice, whoever is sailing the boat knows the lead of each rope by instinct. At the foot of the mizzen-mast fair-leads, similar to those near the mainmast, bring the gear of the mizzen to within reach of the cockpit. The jib and staysail sheets also lead aft, through bull's-eye fair-leads fixed inside the bulwarks, and are belayed to cleats screwed on to the coamings of the cockpit. Even in a boat of the size now under description, it will be understood that the hoisting of the sails and the getting aft of the head-sheets in a strong breeze would tax the strength of an ordinary person; but, still carrying out the principle of doing everything with the least possible exertion, small gipsy winches of a peculiar pattern are largely employed, and form a very remarkable feature in the fittings of the vessel (figs. 16 and 17). These winches are all made so as to be easily shipped and unshipped at will, as they slide into brass grooves affixed to the deck, and are worked with ratchet handles, to which are attached strong steel springs in order to insure the ratchets always biting in the cogs. Altogether, there are ten gipsy winches on board, two on the deck on each side of the cockpit, two on the cabin top just forward of the belaying-pin rack, and two on the deck in front of the mainmast. The two on each side of the cockpit are used for the head-sheets. The sheets, led aft as previously described, are given a couple of turns round the barrel of the winch, and then belayed to their cleats. In getting them in after going about, they are first hauled hand-taut, then the ratchet handle is worked until they are as tight as may be desired, after which they are belayed. These operations are performed in a very few seconds, and the power of the winches is so great that the sheets are got in flatter than would be possible by any other means. The four winches on the cabin top are employed in the same manner for the main and peak halliards, or for the topsail tack, sheet and halliards, as may be required. The two forward of the mast are used for any purpose for which it may be required to use a purchase. The winches have all worked admirably from the time they were first fitted; they are not in the least in the way, and the simplicity of their operation and the extraordinary power which can be developed from them would scarcely be credited by anyone who has not seen them in actual use. The jib and staysail sheets were at first fitted with tackles; but the introduction of the winches has rendered tackles unnecessary. For the same reason, the main, peak and jib purchases, which were fitted when the little vessel was first prepared for sea, have been dispensed with, as the winches give all the power that can be desired. Forward of, and attached to, the mainmast a long hawser is kept constantly stowed, to be used as a tow-rope in case towing by a steam-launch or tug should be necessary, as sometimes happens in a calm. This hawser is bulky and unwieldy to handle when wet, and it is understood that on the first opportunity there is to be substituted for it a light steel-wire hawser wound on a miniature but sufficiently strong drum, carried forward, in the same manner that steel hawsers are disposed of on the decks of large vessels. Having now completed the description of the main features of the vessel, a word or two may be said about her minor fittings, which are also worthy of notice. In most single-handed boats the helmsman is constantly bothered by his head-sheets, especially when there is a strong breeze, getting foul of something, thus necessitating his going forward to clear them. In 'The Lady Hermione' this inconvenience is entirely obviated by brass guards placed over all the projections upon which it is possible for a rope to catch. In this way the fair-leads in the bow, the windlass and the gipsy winches forward, are all protected, so that it is impossible for a rope to get foul anywhere. In order to harmonise with the rest of the metal-work, the screws by which the rigging is set up are all of gun-metal, instead of the galvanised iron usually employed for the purpose. Round the entire gunwale there runs a steel-wire ridge-rope, supported on brass stanchions, so that anyone moving about the deck in heavy weather may have something to hold on by. In front of the mast there is a ladder made of steel-wire rope with wooden steps, leading from the deck to the crosstrees, which is very convenient in case anything has to be done aloft. This ladder is set up to the deck with brass screws, similar to those used for the rigging. On the top of the cabin, in front of the steersman and between the gipsy winches, is a lifeboat liquid-compass fitted with a binnacle, the compass, like almost every fitting on board, being made to ship and unship, so as to be stowed out of the way when not in use (figs. 18 and 19). As the little vessel when abroad was frequently sailed in the winter months, when, even in the Mediterranean, it is somewhat bitterly cold, a brass charcoal stove or chafing-dish of the kind used in Turkey, and there called a 'mangal,' is fitted at the bottom of the cockpit. It is covered with a brass grating, which forms a floor for the helmsman to stand on; and the heat from below keeps him comfortably warm, even in the coldest weather. Another provision against the weather is a large umbrella for the use of any lady passenger when sailing under a strong sun. When in use the handle is fitted into a socket on the coaming of the hatchway, the socket being fitted with a universal joint, so that the umbrella may be adjusted in any desired position. There are two sockets, one on either side of the cockpit, in order that the umbrella may be carried on whichever side is most convenient (fig. 20). On either side of the gunwale aft is fitted a brass crutch for supporting the main boom when the vessel is at anchor (fig. 21). At sea the clutches also serve the purpose of receiving the topsail-yard, one end of which is stowed in a crutch, while the other is made fast with a tying to the outside of the main rigging, thus getting rid of the inconvenience of having such a long spar on deck. A very important fitting is a hatch by which the cockpit can be completely covered in in heavy weather. The hatch is made in sections hinged together, its two halves being also hinged to the back of the seats in the cockpit on either side. When unfolded and fixed in position it covers the entire cockpit, with the exception of a small circular opening left for the steersman, and the vessel is rendered almost as water-tight as a corked bottle. This small circular opening can also be closed, if necessary, by a wooden-hinged cover made for the purpose. Most of the running rigging is of white cotton rope, which looks exceedingly smart and has answered its purpose fairly well; but it has not the durability of manilla, and when wet it has a great tendency to kink. The cabin is very plainly fitted up, and is without berths or seats, its only furniture being some racks and cupboards used for stowing away a few necessary articles. When anyone sleeps on board, a mattress is spread on the floor and forms a very comfortable bed. [Illustration: Lord Dufferin's 'Foam,' R.Y.S. 'In high latitudes,' 1856.] In the cabin there is carried, folded up, a 10-ft. Berthon dinghy, which can be expanded and launched in a few minutes. This does away with the necessity of towing a dinghy, while there is not room to carry one on deck. In conclusion, it may be said that 'The Lady Hermione' presents a very smart appearance and is an extraordinarily good sea-boat. The writer has frequently seen her out in the Gulf of Naples in weather which even the largest native craft would not venture to face. She is also admirably sailed by her owner, and it is a great pleasure to watch her being handled by him under sail, everything being done with great method and system and in a highly seamanlike style. Her cruising ground has now been transferred to the stormier regions of the English Channel; and two summers ago she was sailed to Trouville, where she remained for some time, running back to the Solent in October in half a gale of wind, during which she behaved admirably, and made better weather than many large vessels could have done. This paper has run to a greater length than the writer at first intended; but he trusts he will be forgiven in consideration of his having made known to his fellow-yachtsmen the existence of what is really a most unique and wonderful little craft. A model of her hull was included in Messrs. Forrest & Son's exhibit in the late Naval Exhibition at Chelsea, and it is to be regretted that the vessel herself, or, at all events, an accurate model showing her rigging and all her fittings, was not on view also, for she would not have been by any means the least attractive of the many nautical objects of interest contained in the collection in question, which has done so much to make the British public acquainted with the maritime history and greatness of their country. [Illustration: View from the Royal Western Yacht Club, Plymouth.] ROYAL WESTERN YACHT CLUB, PLYMOUTH. No wonder Plymouth was early in the field with yachting, in view of the tempting facilities for every variety of aquatic pastime which nature has there provided in the midst of lovely scenery, with shelter close at hand in case of sudden change of weather; in fact, the whole atmosphere is nautical with mighty precedents, for is not this the West-country long famed for mariners with stirring historical associations? Who can walk on the Hoe without thinking of Drake, of Armada fame, and the stout hearts that gathered round him in the hour of need for the defence of England against an overwhelming force? Plymouth is a delightfully picturesque spot. On the S.-W. is the seat of the Earl of Mount Edgcumbe, where the timber is specially fine on the hills which afford shelter from the prevalent S.-W. wind, and blow it truly can on occasions, not infrequently at the Regatta time, when it is least wanted, now that the small raters are in such force. Still it is surprising what weather some of these little fellows make of it as they round the Breakwater. The present club-house of the Royal Western Yacht Club is situated at the west end of the Hoe. The view from the club-house is extremely fine. On the right the wooded heights of Mount Edgcumbe, with the Hamoaze beneath, a little to the right, also Drake's Island and the starting point for yacht and trawler racing; due south the great Breakwater, and in clear weather the new Eddystone Lighthouse. Bearing to the left beyond the Breakwater is the well-known 'Mewstone' and familiar 'Shag Rock,' whilst inside lie a variety of craft. Any foreign men-of-war visiting Plymouth generally bring up at this spot, and the training brigs 'Seaflower,' 'Pilot,' and 'Martin' give quite an idea of old days in the British Navy, imparting much life to the whole sea view, for the lads are always getting under way, or loosing sails, going out or coming in. On still to the left is a range of high hills running out to the Start Point and Prawle Point, and just beyond the Hoe to the eastward is the Catwater, where yachts get a snug berth clear of the entrance to the inner harbour full of trawlers and every possible variety of hookers, fishing craft, &c. [Illustration: Royal Western Yacht Club Plymouth.] The Royal Western Yacht Club was established in 1827, and was at that time known as the Port of Plymouth Royal Clarence Regatta Club; in 1833 it became the Royal Western Yacht Club. H.R.H. the Duke of Sussex consented to become patron and H.R.H. the Duchess of Kent patroness, eight presidents were appointed, one of whom, Sir T. D. Acland, is still living in Devonshire. The vice-presidents, twenty-one in number, were all men of high position and great influence. A most interesting list of the yachts in 1835, giving the names of the boats, is still in the possession of the club. Unfortunately there is not space to print this in full, valuable as it would be as a record; still certain points must be noted. There were 43 yachts in the list: of these 17 were clinker-built, like the 'Harriet' cutter of Cowes, 96 tons, belonging to Sir B. R. Graham, Bart., a very handsome craft carrying a crew of eleven hands. Ten were carvel-built, 16 not classified. This was the period of general introduction of carvel surfaces. Sir T. D. Acland's yacht 'Lady St. Kilda' was the largest schooner and largest yacht belonging to the Royal Western Yacht Club. Her complement of hands was eleven. Another point worthy of attention is the proportion of rigs adopted: out of 43 vessels, 29 were cutters, 5 schooners, 4 yawls, 5 no rig given. The regattas were held at first on the anniversary of the coronation of His Majesty George IV., and the members were to be distinguished by a uniform worn on the day of the regatta, and at such other times as they might think proper. Undress: Short blue jacket with round collar, single-breasted--six buttons in front, and three on each cuff. White or blue kerseymere waistcoat, with six buttons. White trousers. Blue and white shirt. Full dress: Blue coat, with buttons on breast and cuffs. White kerseymere waistcoat. White shirt, black handkerchief, white trousers. The president, the vice-presidents, and the stewards were to have three buttons on a slash cuff, and to wear blue pantaloons. The regatta takes place about September 1, when there is generally a great meeting. About four hundred members and one hundred yachts belong to the club. The Royal Navy contributes innumerable classes of craft to compete in the racing, whilst the trawlers and fishing vessels all come in for the sports, producing one of the most picturesque gatherings to be seen anywhere. The secretary is Capt. H. Holditch, who has kindly furnished the information here given. THE ROYAL VICTORIA YACHT CLUB, RYDE The R.V.Y.C., established in 1844, made a strong start, as the foundation stone of the present house was laid by H.R.H. the Prince Consort in March 1846. It is well placed close to the end of Ryde Pier, having a commanding view of very wide range from its windows. The club has always been noted for its encouragement of yacht racing, and has endeavoured to bring about international contests. In 1890 a Gold Challenge Cup was instituted, value 600 guineas, subscribed for by the members, and the famous race for the trophy in 1893 between H.R.H. the Prince of Wales's 'Britannia' and Mr. Carroll's 'Navahoe' will be found described in the account of the sport which took place in that memorable year. The R.V.Y. Club at Ryde is often called the Red Squadron, in contradistinction to the R.Y.S. with the White Ensign. In 1891 the club started regattas for the small classes which were then becoming so prominent. These have been warmly taken up and attended with great success. [Illustration: Royal Victoria Yacht Club.] [Illustration: International Gold Cup, Royal Victoria Yacht Club, 1883. Won by 'Britannia.'] There is yet another Challenge Cup in the hands of the Committee, value 100 guineas. As yet it has not been sailed for, but it is decided that the course is to be in the open Channel, not less than 150 miles, such as Ryde, round Plymouth Breakwater, Cherbourg Breakwater, and back to Ryde for the finish. The Cup was presented by Mr. T. B. C. West, of 'Wendur' and 'Queen Mab' fame. Probably the length of the course has deterred competition; at least, a well-known skipper, Captain John Nichols, who sailed 'Alarm,' 'Mosquito,' and 'Cygnet,' always says that 'nine hours at the tiller is quite enough to do it properly'; and his experience spreads over many years and many a tough tussle for mastery. Mr. Fife of Fairlie declares that the 'Cuckoo,' 90 tons, never showed her real capability until 'Captain John' sailed her. The Royal Victoria Yacht Club has recently added a very large room fronting the sea, and acquired a 'look-out' at the end of the Pier, which seems almost like sitting in an armchair at Spithead. The small raters have a good friend in the Secretary, Mr. Percy Thellusson, who dearly loves them, without neglecting in any way the interests of the larger craft. An eccentric finish to a yacht race occurred in connection with this club, in the contest for Ryde Town Purse, August 11, 1892, and other prizes for smaller classes. There was a nice breeze from the eastward at 10 A.M., and like a flight of swans the yachts were away together. At 2 P.M., when off the Peel Bank, not a breath of wind was there to help them. The committee decided to run up signal to shorten course and conclude at the first round. No sooner was this done and carried out than a brave westerly breeze sprang up and brought in about fifteen of the craft, all classes together, both great and small, all with feathered bows. The whole of the starters returned together within about ten minutes. The uncertainty of the turf is proverbial, but the uncertainty of the sea is no less remarkable. [Illustration: 'Princess Royal,' steamer 'Leda,' 'Seagull,' 'Hebe,' 'Phoebe.' First race of Mersey Yacht Club, June 16, 1845.] [Illustration: 'Queen of the Ocean,' R.M.Y.C., Commodore Littledale, saving emigrants from 'Ocean Monarch,' August 24, 1848.] THE ROYAL MERSEY YACHT CLUB This club, which was established in 1844, originally had its headquarters at Liverpool, the first commodore having been Dr. Grinwood, whose brother is now the only original member left. About 1878 the club quarters were moved to a large house in Birkenhead, close to the river, on the banks of which a pavilion has been constructed, as well as a large slip and two gridirons. During the whole time the club has only had two honorary secretaries, the past and the present. To the late secretary, Mr. Henry Melling, we are indebted for the two illustrations (p. 47); he drew and published them himself, much to his credit, as valuable data showing the rig of the time. The annual regatta is generally held at the latter end of June, the great drawback to Liverpool yachting being the tides and the bar, to diminish which great efforts are being made by dredging on an enormous scale. 1893 was the Jubilee Regatta. This was a great success. 'Britannia,' 'Satanita,' 'Iverna,' took part in the races, which were accompanied by the club steamer, carrying the Commodore, Col. Gamble, C.B., and the Hon. Secretary, Captain James Gladstone. [Illustration: Royal Mersey Yacht Club.] [Illustration: Yacht Club Burgees.] The first illustration is most interesting as bearing the names of the yachts which sailed in the first match of the club, Monday, June 16, 1845. The bowlines on the luff of the gaff topsails should be particularly noticed as a feature of this period. The bowline is also shown in the drawing of the 'Cygnet,' 35 tons, in a following chapter on Thames Clubs. The second outline represents the 'Queen of the Ocean' yacht, Commodore Littledale, R.M.Y.C., going to the rescue of the 'Ocean Monarch,' emigrant ship, on fire in Abergele Bay, North Wales, Thursday, August 24, 1848. THE ROYAL PORTSMOUTH CORINTHIAN YACHT CLUB BY G. L. BLAKE What the Clyde is to Scotland, and Kingstown and Queenstown are to Ireland, that the Solent and Southampton Water (which constitute the waters more or less shut off from the Channel by the Isle of Wight) are to the South of England. It is no matter of wonderment, then, that attempts should have been made from time to time, and dating back some generations, to form clubs which would have for their express purpose the encouragement of seamanship, and the racing and building of yachts. To many old yachtsmen the 'ups and downs' of some of these societies which are still in existence form a history of no small interest; while the rise, doings, and fall of those now defunct ought to teach many valuable and important lessons to the officers and committees that are working hard for the prosperity and welfare of present day yacht clubs. The club which above all others has tended to encourage the proficiency of amateur salts, so that they have become capable of manning, piloting, and steering their own or their friends' vessels to glory, is the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club. Instituted at a time when small-yacht sailing and amateur seamanship had little or no patronage from the big clubs, and when no ruling spirit appeared willing to come forward to help them on to any great degree, when the annual local regattas of the Itchen Ferry, Ryde, and Cowes Town, Southampton, and a few other seaside resorts, were the only opportunities afforded for sport and racing among the small fry, perhaps no club deserves more notice among those south of London than the one in question. Its birth took place at a meeting held on Saturday, May 22, 1880, in the committee-room of the Prince of Wales Club, High Street, Portsmouth, under the patronage of the late Admiral Ryder, R.N., and General H.S.H. Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar, at that time the Commander-in-Chief and Governor of Portsmouth, Rear-Admiral the Honourable F. A. C. Foley, R.N., and Major-General Sir F. Fitz-Wygram, with Captain Garrett, R.A., in the chair. A provisional committee was elected, among whom were Messrs. W. Gilman, C. Johnson, Thomas and Charles McCheane, F. Ruck, R.E., W. C. Storey, W. V. Dickenson, 69th Regiment, J. Bewicke, 69th Regiment, Colonel Savory, Admiral Hallowes, Commander Britten, R.N., H.M.S. 'St. Vincent,' Captains Sutton, R. Kennedy, Rasch, the Reverends C. P. Grant, Vicar of Portsmouth, and J. F. Brown, R.C. Military Chaplain. General Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar, Captain Garrett and Captain Sutton were the first officers appointed to serve as Commodore, Vice- and Rear-commodores, and Messrs. Gilman and C. McCheane with Captain Kennedy undertook other duties. Among the yachts owned at that period by the young club, the best known were the 'Vega,' 40 tons, belonging to Captain Garrett; Mr. Gilman's little 'Zephyr,' 11 tons (for many seasons one of the fastest of the old 12-ton class); and the 'Zoe,' one of the most successful 21-ft. boats on the Solent, which was fortunate in being owned and piloted by one of the best amateur helmsmen and sailormen in the south of England--the late Mr. C. Johnson, of Gosport. [Illustration: Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club.] At the third meeting the Yacht Racing Association rules were adopted, while the fourth settled that very much vext and troublesome question as to what constitutes 'a yachting amateur,' and accordingly drew out the rule that 'No person shall be considered an amateur who has been at any time engaged in the navigation or sailing of a yacht for pay,' the wording of which has since been altered to the following: 'An amateur is a gentleman who has never received pay for sailing in a fore-and-aft vessel, officers of the Royal Navy and Mercantile Marine excepted.' At the same meeting Mr. C. McCheane undertook the sole duties of honorary secretary in place of Captain Kennedy. On June 26, 1880, the first regatta of the newly formed club was held, when five events were pulled off under the most favourable auspices. So successful was this first attempt at bringing the local boats together, that the next regatta, which was similar in its classes, brought out no fewer than eight entries in the race for the service boats of Her Majesty's ships, all of which were steered by naval members of the club, with the one exception of the 'Wren,' which, it is interesting to chronicle, was steered by Miss Foley, daughter of the Admiral commanding the Portsmouth Steam Reserve. She was the first lady member, and one of the first ladies--if indeed there was one before her--to pilot home the winning yacht in a race. Now that so many ladies enter into the sport of yacht racing and come out as famous helmswomen, the position held by Miss Foley is one to be proud of. In the fourth race Mr. Baden-Powell's old boat, the 'Diamond,' 5 tons, at this time owned by Messrs. Sutton, put in an appearance as a 25-ft. boat; and in the fifth race Mr. J. H. Baillie's 20-ft. boat 'Kate,' the earliest of Mr. Beavor Webb's outputs, entered. [Illustration: Midship Section. 'Madge,' 10 tons. Designed by G. L. Watson, 1880.] Besides periodical regattas, the club was able to take in hand a good many matches, which were made up whenever a sufficient number of racing yachts to create sport happened to be lying off Southsea or about the port, and good prizes were always forthcoming, for, as is the case in the Royal Alfred Yacht Club of Kingstown, all money was devoted at this time to racing purposes. The match held on the 14th of August, 1880, is a very fair example of what these extemporaneous races were like. It was for yachts of 20 tons and under. The entries included: 'Madge,' 10 tons, Mr. J. Coats; 'Louise,' 20 tons; 'Euterpe,' 20 tons, Mr. Bayley; 'Freda,' 20 tons, Mr. Freke; 'Maggie,' 15 tons, Mr. Taylor; 'Viola,' 20 tons, Mr. Kelly; 'Sayonara,' 20 tons, Mr. G. W. Richardson. By the end of the first season the club had advanced to such a strong position in the eyes of yachting men and in the public estimation, that Her Majesty was pleased to accede to the request of the Commodore, Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar, to have it made a Royal club, and accordingly commanded that from May 27, 1880, the club should be styled the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club. Except perhaps in the cases of the Royal Cork, the Royal Yacht Squadron and Royal Highland, no yachting club has ever been known to grow so rapidly into popularity as to obtain the Royal warrant within the space of less than six months. The season of 1881 began on April 6 with a yacht tonnage of 3,569 tons and 220 members belonging to the club. The year was an important one in its annals, for some of the best known of yachtsmen became members of the community. Captain Garrett gave up the Vice-Commodoreship, and was succeeded by Captain F. Sutton, late 11th Hussars, whilst Admiral Byng undertook the office vacated by Captain Sutton. The greater number of those who had up to this time joined the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club were yachting members, and lived in all parts of the United Kingdom. The opening regatta was held on the glorious 4th of June, so dear to Eton and other memories. It witnessed the entry, in the race for yachts of 11 to 25 tons, of that favourite old 20-ton clipper the 'Vanessa,' and the old Fairlie 25-tonner 'Santry.' The courses this year finished between a mark-boat and the Southsea Pier. At the third regatta another famous old ship threw down the glove to the 'Gadfly' and Mr. Arthur Glennie's 'Sonata,' viz. the 16-ton 'Satanella.' On August 13, by the special command of Her Majesty, the club had the honour of holding its Annual Royal Regatta in Osborne Bay. The entries were large for all the items of the programme, no fewer than twelve boats starting in a class for 30 ft. and under, and thirty-one for the race for centreboarders. In this last race the Prince of Wales sailed his little crack 'Belle Lurette,' and won the second prize. In the race for yachts of 40 tons and upwards the 'Samoena,' 'Annasona,' and 'Sleuthhound' started. It may be stated here, that on the day of the regatta the club had 400 names on its list of members, the greater number of whom claimed some pretensions to being yachtsmen. This was a rapid increase of 180 in less than four months, and distinctly proved that the club was already satisfactorily filling the much-desired need on the Solent, and it was most gratifying to those who had given their time and their energy towards the success of the venture that nothing but praise poured in from all quarters, because of the perfect organisation with which all regattas, matches, and general arrangements were carried out. Perhaps it is not too much to say here that the club owed much at this period of its existence to its honorary secretary, the late Mr. Charles McCheane, whose unflagging zeal and well-known gift of organisation helped to a very considerable extent to bring about the prestige which it was beginning to enjoy. One great feature of the season of 1881 was the addition of a rule allowing any boat that had been hired by a member for a space of over three months to enter for the club races, in order to give every encouragement to the sport of yacht-racing. Many have been the times that such a rule has been begged for by yachtsmen, especially tiros at the game; but the Yacht Racing Association, and, in fact, all Royal Yacht Clubs with the exception of the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian, have placed a veto on any proposition which included in any way its introduction. With the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian the rule proved in the early days of the club a great success, but latterly, as yacht tonnage was added to the club and members became provided with their own ships, the rule gradually died out, till at last it has disappeared altogether from the Book of Rules and Regulations. The year 1882 was notable chiefly for the introduction of a new class in the regatta programmes, viz. that for 3-tonners. Four of these little vessels did battle in all kinds of weather and proved most successfully how much power and what fine sea-going qualities can be obtained by length and depth with almost a minimum of beam. Mr. Wynne Eyton and Mr. Quilter designed and raced the composite built 'Mascotte,' Mr. A. W. Courtney the 'Naiad,' the late Lord Francis Cecil the 'Chittywee,' and Lord Ailsa and Mr. Baden-Powell the 'Snarley Yow.' Of these the 'Chittywee' was the best all-round boat, though the 'Mascotte' gave her all she could do to beat her. In the small length classes, the 20-ft. 'Kate,' which had become the property of the Honorary Secretary during the winter of 1881, came to the fore in a remarkable manner, saving her time when necessary, and giving all comers a fair beating. The next year, however, witnessed her total defeat by Mr. Popham's little 'Bird of Freedom,' a boat that is still to the fore. The Annual Royal Regatta of 1883 was held as before at Osborne Bay, and proved a complete success, and the club could now boast of a patronage second only to that of the Royal Yacht Squadron. The programme on August 11, the day of the regatta, exhibited a great advance on those of the two previous years, as the classes ranged more after the fashionable formulæ, viz. for yachts of 40 tons and under, 20 and over 14, 14 and over 9 tons. The race for 40-ton yachts fell through, but was afterwards sailed on August 22, when the 'Annasona,' 'Tara,' 'Sleuthhound,' 'Phryne,' and 'Silver Star' crossed the line, and 'Tara' and 'Silver Star' (their first appearance under the flag of the Royal Portsmouth Club) came in first and second. Among the twenties, which showed up for the first time, were the 'Freda' and two well-known old warriors from St. George's Channel, the 'Quickstep' and 'Challenge.' In the race for 10-tonners the 'Ulidia,' designed by Mr. W. Fife, jun., was the new addition to the club, and she fought it out with the 'Buttercup,' this latter favourite being thoroughly beaten on all points of sailing. During the year of 1884 the prosperity of the club was decidedly on the increase. In the first place, during the winter, the premises in the High Street, Portsmouth, which had up to this time formed the Prince of Wales's Club House, had been bought, altered and improved to suit the club's requirements. As it stands now, it is one of the most comfortable club-houses in the South of England. The club also opened on Southsea Beach a Station House of its own, which has telephonic communications with the house in High Street, and all parts of the towns of Portsmouth and Southampton. It consists of a railed-off space, sufficient to allow of a fair frontage, besides room for the flagstaff, guns, and all such necessary fittings. The building is a very comfortable cabin, with all modern conveniences. The telephonic communication with Southampton is of the greatest possible service, as most of the small raters make the Itchen and its precincts their home. On June 7 in this year, the custom (which has now died out) of having an opening cruise under the club officers was originated. Nothing can make up for the teaching which manoeuvring under sail affords, and it is a great pity more of such cruises do not take place, and that at regular intervals. The officers of the club had remained the same up to this year, when Admiral Byng gave up the Rear-Commodoreship in favour of Mr. J. R. West. One of the great features of the season was the recognition of the foot classes, which became so popular during the following four years. The first and second regattas introduced races for boats or yachts of 25 feet and 30 feet on the load water-line. In the latter class the 'Eclipse' and 'Keepsake' were competitors, the 'Eclipse' being the better of the two boats; and in the former the 'Daphne,' 'Wave,' and 'Lil' were the three to race, the 'Lil' being the principal winner. The Annual Royal Regatta, owing to the sad bereavement that had visited the Court, took place by royal command off Bembridge, instead of in Osborne Bay as heretofore. No fewer than fourteen items constituted the programme, of which the most interesting was the ten-ton match between the 'Ulidia' and 'Ulerin,' representatives of Messrs. Fife and Watson, the great Scotch yacht designers. On August 16 a fine match was brought off, and the amateurs' powers put to the test, when 'A Corinthian Plate,' a very handsome piece of silver work, weighing 134 ozs., was sailed for by the 'Genesta,' 'Marguerite,' and 'Irex.' Perhaps the most sporting matches that have been sailed under the red burgee with crown, star, and half-moon in centre, were three that sprang out of a race for yachts of 20 tons and under, and took place at the last regatta of the season. On this occasion the 'Enriqueta,' 20-ton (cutter that was, but at this time a) yawl, snatched, by some few seconds on time allowance, first honours from the old 'Quickstep.' On the Monday following the regatta a friendly match was sailed between the two vessels, ending with the same result as on the Saturday. Two matches were then arranged to be sailed on the next and following days, the conditions of which were that amateurs alone were to man one yacht, while professionals were to take charge of the other. No pilot was to be allowed, and the prize was to be 1_l._ from each amateur should the professionals win, and a sixpenny pipe from each professional should the amateurs be successful. Lots to be drawn for the choice of yacht in the first race, yachts to be exchanged for the second. The result of the lots on the Tuesday gave the amateurs the choice of ships, and they took the 'Enriqueta.' The course was across an imaginary line from the Signal Station flagstaff to the mark-boat, round the Spit buoy, Warner Lightship and East Sturbridge buoy, leaving all on the starboard hand, thence round the Spit buoy and mark-boat on port hand, to finish between the mark-boat on port hand and Signal Station. Twice round, 20 miles. [Illustration: 'Irex' _64 tons_ (_John Jameson, Esq._) _Designed by Alex. Richardson_, 1884.] The wind was light from the south-east. The professionals in the 'Quickstep' were the first over the line, but it was before the gun fired, and they had to recross it. This was not taken advantage of by the 'Enriqueta,' for the yacht, just as the gun fired, was, for some unaccountable reason, kept in irons quite two minutes by her helmsman. The 'Enriqueta' was steered by her owner and Major Urquhart. The 'Quickstep' won by 12 mins. 13 secs. On the following day the conditions were identical, except that the yachts were exchanged. The tide, wind, and weather were the same as on the Tuesday. Both yachts crossed the line at the same time. 'Enriqueta' held the weather berth, and, hugging the mark-boat, went about at once; but 'Quickstep,' by a very pretty piece of steering on the part of Mr. Maxwell Heron, was put about and brought on 'Enriqueta's' weather. 'Enriqueta' got away again under 'Quickstep's' lee, owing to the latter having her sails too closely pinned in. This error was fortunately rectified, and the 'Quickstep,' with sheets slightly checked, at once sprang ahead and forereached on the yawl, but not sufficiently to prevent the 'Enriqueta,' when off Southsea Castle, from going about and crossing 'Quickstep's' bow, a proceeding which, had it not been for the fine helmsmanship displayed, must have ended in a collision. When the yawl tacked the next time, however, the 'Quickstep' was to windward once more, and led round the Warner Lightship by 4 mins. The mark-boat was rounded at the end of the first round by the 'Quickstep' 14 mins. 15 secs. ahead of the 'Enriqueta.' On the second round the wind fell light, shifting and flukey, and, except that the 'Quickstep' won, offered no very interesting points of sailing worth noting. Such matches as the foregoing are worth repeating; for it is when acting in competition with men who make fore-and-aft sailing their business that amateurs find out the value of their seafaring knowledge, and can accordingly gauge their strength and learn to amend their weak points. In 1885 the first regatta--and regattas now took place once a fortnight regularly--was memorable for the maiden races of the 'Elma' among the service boats, and the 'Syren' in the 25-ft. class. The 'Elma' had been an open whale-shaped admiral's barge. She was rigged with dipping lugs, and manned by sub-lieutenants from H.M.S. 'Excellent.' The writer had the privilege of seeing her work her way to Bembridge late in the season, and the smart manner in which the boat was handled, and the lugs lowered, dipped, and hoisted, was one of the prettiest sights of the season. The second regatta witnessed the _début_ of the two latest additions to the 30-ft. class--the 'Curtsey' and 'Yum Yum.' The 'Curtsey' proved herself the best boat of her year. It was during this year that the new A, B, C classes were, for the first time, given a prominent place in the regatta programmes. These severally were supposed to include the full-blown racer, the out-of-date racer, and the ordinary cruiser. The idea was to try to create a method by which all yacht-owners might have an opportunity of joining in yacht racing. The system proved only a partial success, and the real gainers by the innovation, if there were any, were the sailmakers, who were kept employed, owing to many an 'old box' requiring spinnakers and other light muslin quite foreign to their original sail-plan. The fourth regatta of the season took place away from the port, and off the new watering-place, Lee-on-Solent. The principal course started from over an imaginary line lying between the committee vessel and a flagstaff at Lee-on-Solent, round the north-east and east Middle buoy, the west Middle buoy, round the Bramble buoys, omitting the Thorn, Calshot Lightship, and Hill Head buoy, to pass between the committee vessel and shore, leaving all marks on the starboard hand; three times round. On July 25, the first club match round the Isle of Wight took place. It was open to all yachts of 9 tons and upwards in the B and C classes. Two of Fairlie's old clippers came out in new feathers for this race, the 'Neptune' and 'Fiona'; and the former not only in this, but in many another thrash round a course during this and the following seasons, kept well in the van and showed that age had in no way been detrimental to her speed. The Royal Regatta was again held off Bembridge on August 8, when for the 10-tonners' prize the 'Queen Mab,' and in the 5-ton class the pretty 'Cyprus,' showed their wonderful weatherly qualities. The day is one that will long be remembered by those who took part in the trips round the Nab. The course, for all the classes from 5 tons and upwards, was from an imaginary line between the committee boat and H.M.S. 'Speedy,' round the Warner Lightship, the Dean Tail buoy and Nab Lightship, leaving all to starboard, to finish between the committee vessel on the port hand and the 'Speedy'; twice round. The weather was boisterous, with half a gale of wind blowing from the southward and westward. There was a nasty cross sea off the Nab, which frightened more than one hardy salt from making a start, and the owners of the 30-ft. yachts did their best to have their course shortened. The only accident, which might have turned out disastrous, was the capsizing of the 'Elma,' when making a board off the Nab Lightship. She was, however, righted, bailed out, and one by one all her crew got on board. [Illustration: Midship section. 'Neptune,' cutter, 50 tons. Built by Fife, 1875.] The next year (1886) exhibited a still further advance in the well-being of the club. The number of regattas during the season was increased from eight to ten, exclusive of matches and the annual Royal Regatta, which this year took place at Stokes Bay. Numerous new and old yachts were added to the club tonnage, for the B and C classes began to fill, and many a forgotten old heroine was made to come out and don her long-left-off racing suits. Of those which thus appeared all spick and span were the 'May,' 40 tons; 'Foxhound,' 35 tons; 'Veronica,' 92 tons; 'Terpsichore,' 38 tons; 'Leander' and 'Nadejola,' twenties; and 'Naiad' and 'Lily,' old Mersey tens. Of the new yachts the 'Hyacinth' was the fruit of the new classification, as she was designed and built by Mr. Arthur Payne, to race in the B class. This was the last year that any yachts were built to the 25-ft. and 21-ft. classes, the 'Verena,' 25 ft., and the 'Minima,' and 'Volador,' 21 ft., being the last that were laid down on the stocks. The number of members up to this date had been steadily on the increase, so that by the end of the year the list had reached over 600. Since the club had started in 1880, over 73 regattas and matches had been held, and more than 2,600_l._ given in prizes--a past history such as few, if any, of the older clubs can show. In 1887 the Yacht Racing Association rating rule came into force, and though some races were provided for the 25-ft. class, still the main racing was among the A, B, and C and rater classes. The 'Thalassa' and 'Stella' were the first representatives of the 2-1/2-raters, the 'Sybil,' 26 tons, and 'Mary,' 25 tons, coming out to wrest the prizes from the 'Hyacinth.' The next year it was found quite impossible to suit all owners so as to fill every event on a programme. This was owing to there still being a tonnage class, A, B and C, the new rating and the length classes. The consequence was that only seven regattas came off during the season, exclusive of the Royal Regatta, which was again held at Bembridge. During the season of 1888, the question of shifting keels was brought before the club committee, and a hard fight was made to have them abolished. There was the same curious assortment of classes as in the preceding year, because the rating rule had not as yet taken hold of the yacht-racing public. By 1889 so great had become the popularity of the club and the demand for membership that it was decided to raise the annual subscription to 2_l._ 2_s._, with an entrance fee of 5_l._ 5_s._ for non-yacht-owners, and 2_l._ 2_s._ for yacht-owners. The rating classes had now come into full swing, and the season started with a match for 20-raters, unique, in that it brought together no fewer than five newly launched competitors, viz.: the 'Chiqueta,' 'Dragon,' 'Ghost,' 'Siola,' and 'Velzie.' By the third regatta eight 2-1/2-raters were ready for the fray, seven of which were new boats that season--'Cock-a-whoop,' 'Cosette,' 'Humming Bird,' 'Madcap,' 'Nadador,' 'Heathen Chinee,' and 'Musume.' Among the 10-raters were the old 5-ton flyer 'Doris,' now swelled out to meet the more modern school, 'Fantan,' 'Dis,' 'Decima,' and 'Ethel.' The new 'Blue Belle,' 'Tar Baby,' and sometimes the 'Thief,' formed the 5-rating class. The event of the season was the handicap race for the Cup given by the Queen, which took place on August 10. It was open to yachts of 20 tons and over, and 17 started. The course chosen lay to the eastward, from an imaginary line between the flagstaff on the Spit Fort, and the committee boat, round the Nab Lightship, west buoy of the middle and committee vessel, leaving all on the starboard hand, to finish between the committee vessel and the Spit buoy. There was a strong south-westerly breeze blowing all day, which suited the large yachts well, and some of the finest sailing of the year was witnessed by those who were fortunate enough to follow the race. Nothing of note occurred during the 1890 period of the club's history. The match which took place on August 2, for yachts rated at 40 tons and over, was the most successful of the season, for it brought together all the large cracks of the year, viz. the 'Iverna,' 119, 'Thistle,' 120, 'Valkyrie,' 76, and 'Yarana,' 72. The 5-rater class proved a very full one, the leading yacht architects sending out as representatives of their skill the 'Valentine,' 'Glycera,' 'Quinque,' 'Alwida,' 'Archee,' and 'Fair Geraldine.' The 2-1/2-rater class received as new additions the 'Troublesome,' 'Babe,' 'Janetta,' 'Dolphin,' 'Camilla,' and 'G.G.' A class, however, which gave a fund of amusement, and was allowed a place in the club's programmes for the first time this year, was the 1/2-rater. No fewer than ten little boats formed its racing fleet, and were always ready to cross the line whenever a prize and race were offered them. In 1891 these mosquitoes had a Champion Cup presented to them by Mr. Blair Cochrane, and eleven started at the third regatta of the season for this trophy, which was won by the little 'Kittiwake,' the 'Coquette' coming in second. Another new class, for 1-raters, was started this year, but only four competitors composed it, among them being the 'Kelpie,' 'Samoena,' and 'Unit.' The Royal Regatta was held at Wootton Creek on August 8, and the annual race round the Island was perhaps the best race of the season. It will be seen that, after the rating rule came into force, racing among old cast-offs found no further favour in the eyes of the community, and as an example of the modern programme, the following on the next page, which is that of the Royal Regatta, is a very good specimen. Of the sailing committee, which has done so much good work, there are names that have appeared on its list as serving members almost from the time a sailing committee was first formed. Capt. Sutton, the honoured Vice-Commodore, and Mr. Gilman, the Hon. Treasurer, deserve first mention, as they have been office-holders from the foundation of the club, and Mr. Gilman's name appears in the earliest committee list. Admiral Hallowes and Major Bulkeley are next in order of seniority. Capt. Hayes, R.N., Messrs. Crampton and A. H. Glennie (the latter is the present Rear-Commodore) follow in order, while Capt. Nottage, Messrs. Flemmich, Laity, Walford, and Wildy bring up the rear. The membership of a sailing committee of such a club as the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian is no sinecure, and a man must be a keen yachtsman who will undertake the duties entailed. [Illustration: 'Yarana' (now 'Maid Marion'). _72 tons._ _Designed by G. L. Watson_, 1883.] ROYAL PORTSMOUTH CORINTHIAN YACHT CLUB 1891. _Commodore_--GENERAL H.S.H. PRINCE EDWARD OF SAXE-WEIMAR, G.C.B. _Vice-Commodore_--CAPTAIN F. SUTTON ('Gadfly,' 20 tons). _Rear-Commodore_--J. R. WEST, Esq. ('Goshawk,' 239 tons). THE ANNUAL REGATTA _Under the Patronage of their Royal Highnesses_ THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES Will take place (weather permitting) OFF WOOTTON CREEK, _On Saturday, August 8th._ FIRST RACE--YACHTS of 40-rating. PRIZE, Cup value Sixty Guineas, presented by A. H. Glennie, Esq. Helmsman, value 5_l._ 5_s._ Entrance fee, 3_l._ SECOND RACE--HANDICAP--YACHTS of 60-rating and upwards. FIRST, value 50_l._ } } prizes presented by A. H. Glennie, Esq. SECOND, value 25_l._ } Entrance fee, 50_s._ Helmsman, value 5_l._ 5_s._, presented by F. C. Hill, Esq. THIRD RACE--HANDICAP--YACHTS under 60-rating. FIRST PRIZE, value 25_l._, presented by Julian Senior, Esq. SECOND PRIZE, value 10_l._ Entrance fee, 25_s._ FOURTH RACE--YACHTS of 20-rating. FIRST PRIZE, value 20_l._, presented by S. M. Richards, Esq. SECOND PRIZE, value 5_l._, presented by Lt.-Col. A. D. MacGregor. Entrance fee, 20_s._ FIFTH RACE--YACHTS over 2-1/2, but not exceeding 5-rating. FIRST PRIZE, a Silver Cup, presented by Captain A. K. Wilson R.N., V.C., C.B., and Officers H.M.S. 'Vernon.' SECOND PRIZE, value 5_l._ 5_s._, presented by W. A. Beauclerk, Esq. Entrance fee, 15_s._ SIXTH RACE--YACHTS not exceeding 2-1/2-rating. FIRST PRIZE, the 'Fernie' Cup, value 10_l._ 10_s._ (presented by Mrs. Fernie in memory of the late Robertson Fernie, Esq.) SECOND PRIZE, value 5_l._ 5_s._, presented by the Vice-Commodore, Captain F. Sutton. Entrance fee, 10_s._ 6_d._ SEVENTH RACE--YACHTS of 1-rating. FIRST PRIZE, value 6_l._ 6_s._, presented by Rear-Admiral Hallowes. SECOND PRIZE, value 2_l._ 2_s._, presented by Colonel F. J. Smith, R.E. Entrance fee, 6_s._ EIGHTH RACE--YACHTS of 1/2-rating, belonging to any recognised Yacht Club. FIRST, value 3_l._ _3s._ Prizes presented by Paul A. Ralli, Esq. SECOND, value 2_l._ 2_s._ Entrance fee, 3_s._ NINTH RACE--SERVICE YACHTS. FIRST PRIZE, value 5_l._ _5s._, presented by A. G. Wildy, Esq. SECOND PRIZE, value 2_l._ 2_s._ Entrance fee, 5_s._ All Yachts must belong to the club, eighth and ninth races excepted. Yachts in all the races must be steered by Amateur Members of any recognised Yacht Club. The Races will be sailed according to Y.R.A. Rules. Exceptions, time of entry, _two_ to compete or no race; _four_, or no second prize. _The second and third Races will be handicapped by the Committee without appeal._ That the naval officers who are honorary members have been valued friends to the club goes without saying. Nothing could exceed the interest that has been taken in the club's welfare by the Commodore, H.S.H. General Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar, especially whilst in command at Portsmouth. Neither must the club's mainstay, the honorary secretary, Mr. John Main, be forgotten. Almost from the beginning Mr. Main had acted as under-secretary to the then honorary secretary, Mr. C. McCheane, and it is not too much to say that when acting in that capacity he was the kedge anchor to the club, and frequently on occasions was called upon to play the part of best bower. When Mr. McCheane resigned his office on July 14, 1887, after an interregnum of three months, during which Captain Haldane was made acting secretary, Mr. Main was chosen unanimously to fill the vacant office, and not only those connected with the club, but all who have had to hold communication with him, know how well its arduous duties have been performed. It is to this gentleman that the writer is indebted for help in compiling this notice. With a commodious house, a signal station to keep up, and prizes to be provided (nearly 6,000_l._ have been given to be sailed for up to 1893), the expenses, it is needless to say, are great and tax the funds considerably. Money, however, is always forthcoming through the liberality displayed by many of the members. Among those who have come forward to help the club with gifts of cups and prizemoney are the following gentlemen, whose names are rarely absent from any notice or list calling for an extra supply towards the prize fund: Captain Sutton, Vice-Commodore; Mr. J. R. West, late Rear-Commodore; Mr. A. H. Glennie, Rear-Commodore; and Messrs. Julian Senior, S. Richards, and B. Paget. Mrs. Robertson Fernie makes an annual present of a purse in memory of her late husband, who was always a contributor up to the time of his death. The club has certainly done more for amateur seamanship than any other inside the Isle of Wight; it was the first to start a system of fortnightly regattas, and has always been chosen by outside clubs to time the arrivals of their ocean races to the port of Portsmouth. The usual annual regatta was held last year, 1893, somewhat unfortunately, during the squadron week at Cowes, whither the big cutters of the season had attracted so many lovers of yacht racing as well as general sight-seers. A very varied programme was provided, including all classes from the 100-tonner to the 1/2-rater, in all about five different races. The first was a handicap for yachts exceeding 19-rating, the course being from between the committee-vessel and the Spit Fort, round the N.E. middle buoy, Warner lightship, and Boyne buoy, all marks to be left on the port hand. This afforded a great opportunity for the spectators on Southsea beach to see the racing thoroughly well, as the competitors had to accomplish three rounds, making about a 40-mile course. The object of handicaps is to get sport amongst craft of varied tonnage, class, and build, by giving time allowance. In the present case the largest vessel was 'Mabel,' late 'Irex,' 100-rating; the smallest,'Marigold,' 22-rating; 'Mabel' allowing 'Marigold' 39 minutes. Six started. A good race ensued, as the following time of the finish will corroborate:--'Columbine,' winner, 4 hrs. 32 mins. 41 secs.; 'Castanet,' 2nd prize, 4 hrs. 36 mins. 15 secs.; 'Creole,' 3rd prize, 4 hrs. 33 mins. 43 secs.; 'Mabel,' 4 hrs. 38 mins. 14 secs. +---------+------+------+----------+-----------------+ | Yacht | Rig |Rating| Handicap | Owner | +---------+------+------+----------+-----------------+ |Mabel |cutter| 100 | scratch |Mr. Muir | |Creole | " | 40 |10 minutes|Lieut.-Col. Bagot| |Columbine| yawl | 50 |12 " |Mr. W. B. Paget | |Castanet |cutter| 40 |14 " |Mr. W. R. Cookson| |Hyacinth | yawl | 50 |27 " |Mr. T. C. Garth | |Marigold |cutter| 22 |39 " |Mr. W. R. Martin | +---------+------+------+----------+-----------------+ The 20-raters were represented by 'Dragon,' 'Deirdré,' and 'Molly.' The 2-1/2-raters brought together were in number eight--'Elf,' 'Gareth,' 'Gavotte,' 'Kismet,' 'Meneen,' 'Papoose,' 'Faugh-a-Ballagh,' and 'Undine.' This race was for the Fernie Cup, value 10 guineas, won by 'Kismet,' Miss Mabel Cox. Four 1-raters started over a 12-mile course, and the 1/2-raters finished a very successful regatta by having a match over an 8-mile course; the 'Mosquito,' belonging to Admiral Hallowes, beating the 'Coquette' by half a minute. ROYAL CINQUE PORTS YACHT CLUB, DOVER ESTABLISHED 1872 _Commodore_: H.R.H. DUKE OF CONNAUGHT, K.G. _Vice-Commodore_: EARL OF PEMBROKE The leading feature in the regatta of the Royal Cinque Ports Yacht Club is the race to Boulogne and back, which really is the Channel match of the season; and in the year 1877, which was remarkable for hard winds and even gales on racing days, such as that when the Weymouth, as well as other regattas, was hopelessly stopped, the grandest race of the series was sailed June 14. The following fine fleet started:-- +-----------+-------+-----------+---------+---------------------+ | Yacht |Tonnage|Description| Builder | Owner | +-----------+-------+-----------+---------+---------------------+ |Australia | 207 | Schooner | Inman |W. W. Hughes, Esq. | |Phantom | 172 | " | Hoad |A. O. Wilkinson, Esq.| |Corinne | 160 | " | Ratsey |N. Wood, Esq. | |Sea Belle | 142 | " | Harvey |H. Taylor, Esq. | |Miranda | 135 | " | Harvey |G. C. Lampson, Esq. | |Lufra | 208 | Yawl | Ratsey |J. Houldsworth, Esq. | |Florinda | 138 | " |Nicholson|W. Jessop, Esq. | |Jullanar | 127 | " | Bentall |A. D. Macleay, Esq. | |Vol au Vent| 103 | Cutter | Ratsey |Col. Markham | +-----------+-------+-----------+---------+---------------------+ With a very hard E.N.E. wind blowing all reefed mainsails and jibheaders, 1877 was a great season for carrying away spars, and June 14 added its share. The arrival time round Boulogne mark-boat is worth recording. [Illustration: 'Arrow,' Royal Cinque Ports Yacht Club. _117 tons_ (_Tankerville Chamberlayne, Esq._). _June 24, 1876_.] h. m. s. Phantom 2 17 0 Australia 2 21 30 Corinne 2 29 0 Lufra 2 29 30 Miranda 2 32 0 Florinda 2 32 19 Sea Belle 2 35 15 Jullanar 2 36 0 Vol au Vent 3 0 15 The E.N.E. was now a little before their beam; with flattened sheets they all began to dive a little more than on the voyage out. At last, some five miles or so after rounding the Boulogne mark-boat, the leading schooner, 'Phantom,' took a dive that was too much for her bowsprit, which snapped off short. Poor 'Phantom,' in the prime of life, leading grandly and full of promise! After this there were no more accidents. The 'Australia' had the lead, and finished, winning the 100_l._ prize, and establishing a record, 4 hrs. 12 mins. 40 secs. for the course, which has not been beaten up to the present. The other racers came in as follows:-- h. m. s. Australia 4 12 40 Corinne 4 26 18 Florinda 4 30 38 Phantom 4 33 3 Miranda 4 34 32 Jullanar 4 36 30 Sea Belle 4 37 48 Lufra 4 38 38 Vol au Vent 5 24 0 Another good race over the same course, on June 28, 1880, was won by 'Latona,' 160 tons, built by J. White; A. B. Rowley, Esq.; duration of race, 4 hrs. 14 mins. 4 secs. Started 10.30 A.M., arrived at Dover 2 hrs. 44 min. 4 secs. [Illustration: 'Reverie,' 40-rater. Built for A. D. Clarke, Esq., 1891, by Messrs. Fay. Designed by J. M. Soper.] [Illustration: 'Reverie.' _40-rater, by Fay & Co. Designed by J. M. Soper, 1891. Hauled up at Fay's Yard._] On July 22, 1889, the 'Wendur,' yawl, 124-rating, 43 tons, built by and belonging to Thos. B. C. West, Esq., ran this time very close, starting 10 A.M., arrived at Dover 2 hrs. 14 mins. 28 secs. Duration of race, 4 hrs. 14 mins. 28 secs., being 24 seconds longer than 'Latona.' A race on Tuesday, June 14, 1892, was a very remarkable one, and showed what a 40-tonner is capable of in bad weather and hard wind in the Channel, which is not the smoothest water in a strong North-easter. The finish was as follows:-- Arrived at Dover h. m. s. Lethe, yawl 3 17 11 Queen Mab, cutter (winner, 70_l._) 3 34 9 Iverna, cutter 3 38 1 Thalia, cutter (2nd prize, 5_l._) 3 47 28 Creole, cutter 3 57 32 Varuna, dismasted Duration of race, 4 hrs. 32 mins. 11 secs. Wind north-east, strong and squally. CHAPTER II SCOTTISH CLUBS THE ROYAL NORTHERN YACHT CLUB, ROTHESAY BY R. T. PRITCHETT The Clyde is, and always has been, the great yachting nursery and centre of the North. The very mention of the name arouses all who have pleasurable recollections of the great waters which lead up to the narrow Clutha, whence emerged those monsters of the deep, 'Lucanias,' and other triumphs of modern science. As recently as 1886 the steamer 'Industry,' built by Fife of Fairlie in 1814, was lying in the mud at Haulbowline, after running some sixty years between Greenock and Glasgow. Yacht-building has always been vigorously carried on in the Great Estuary for three generations. The Fifes of Fairlie have designed and built grand vessels there, though the flat shore presents immense difficulties, which are greatly added to by the present increase of draught and lead ballast in yachts of all classes. [Illustration: 1824. Northern Yacht Club Seal.] The Royal Northern Yacht Club is installed at that delightful spot, Rothesay, noted for its fine bay; and though Clyde weather is known to yachting men as being somewhat impulsive and petulant, whipping out spars, destructive to balloon canvas unless the skipper is very weatherwise indeed, still for real sailing the Clyde affords some of the best courses in the world and the grandest sport from 23-footers to 200-tonners. [Illustration: Royal Northern Yacht Club, Rothesay.] The Royal Northern Club had a very interesting origin. It dates from 1824, when it was founded by some gentlemen in the north of Ireland and west of Scotland who were devotees of yachting. A few years later the club was separated into two branches, an Irish and Scotch division, as will be perceived by the flags given here in illustration. One has the shamrock wreath, the other the thistles, each division having its own committee and officials. _Original Members_, A.D. 1824 No. 1. Thomas Pottinger (Admiral 1825) 2. John Turnley 3. J. E. Matthews 4. R. Kennedy 5. Robert Thomson (first secretary) 1824, and admiral, 1827 6. Gordon Thomson 7. G. Matthews 8. Henry J. McCracken 9. Edward S. Ruthven 10. Thos. Ch. Stewart Corry 11. George Russell 12, 13, 14. McCrackens, junrs. 15. J. Smyth, Helensburgh (for many years Commodore of R.N.Y.C.) 16. J. Carrick, Greenock 17. Robert Langtry 18. Robert Christian, Sligo 19. Claudius Armstrong, Dublin 20. Robert F. Gordon 21. Edward Forbes Orson, Balyreggan House, Stranraer 22. John Kennedy, Cuttra The records of the Scotch division prior to 1846 were unfortunately destroyed by an accident some years ago. The minute-book of the Irish division has, however, survived. From it we find that at a meeting of gentlemen interested in the foundation of the Northern Yacht Club, held at Belfast on November 5, 1824, it was resolved 'that the establishment of a yacht club is a highly desirable object.' A committee was accordingly appointed to that end, Mr. Robert Thomson being requested to act as secretary, and at a general meeting held April 8, 1825, Mr. John Allan of Glasgow accepted the post of secretary for the Clyde. At a general meeting at Belfast May 2, 1825, the secretary was instructed to write to Mr. Allan, to consult with the Scotch members and fix with them the place of rendezvous for the first general meeting of the boats of the club. The date arranged was the first Monday in June, and the Irish members declared that they were ready to meet the Scotch members 'in any part of the Clyde' on that day. The club was known as the Northern Yacht Club. There is no record in the minute-book of the burgee adopted, but in an old picture, now in the club-house at Rothesay, the yachts are shown cruising off Garroch Head, in the Clyde, with red ensigns, the burgee also red, with the letters N.Y.C. in white. The present secretary has courteously sent a photograph of this picture, also of the flags, as an historical contribution. The first prizes offered were for pulling (rowing) matches to take place in Ireland. The Marquis of Donegall was the first President of the club, and Mr. Thos. Pottinger, Admiral for 1825. [Illustration: Royal Northern flags.] The full dress of the club consisted of a blue coat with crimson silk lining, with 'Marall's' vest, white or black pantaloons or breeches, and silk stockings to correspond. Members who appeared at the dinners of the club without this dress were fined 10s. At a general meeting held at Greenock, on August 3, 1825, Mr. James Hamilton, of Holmhead, was appointed Admiral for the ensuing year. In May 1826, at Belfast, the yachts were divided into three classes:-- 1st class over 30 tons register 2nd " " 15 " " 3rd " under 15 " " The first regatta took place at Belfast, June 20, 21, 22, and on June 23 pulling races were rowed by members and their friends. On June 24 the yachts were to sail together 'in a fleet,' and 'manoeuvre under the directions of the Admiral.' This is quite an echo of the Cork Water 1720 Club. A proposal of the Scottish members to separate the Club into two distinct branches was agreed to on May 16, 1827. It was probably after this date that each division had a distinguishing burgee; from an old print of these flags now in the club-house at Rothesay, the Irish division seems to have flown a red burgee with a harp, the Scottish division being distinguished by a lion in white. H.M. King William IV. became Patron of the club in September 1830, and from that time it was known as the Royal Northern Yacht Club. In 1831 the yachts of the Club were arranged in classes as under:-- 1st class over 75 tons register 2nd " " 50 tons and under 75 tons 3rd " " 30 " " " 50 " 4th " " 20 " " " 30 " 5th " " 15 " " " 20 " 6th " under 15 tons A two days' regatta was held at Belfast in 1836. The different classes just described were started at an interval of half an hour between each, beginning at 10.30 A.M., the prize for each class being ten sovereigns. On the second day a very important event took place, the race for the Belfast Cup, value 100_l._, a time race for all sizes. Eight vessels to start, or no race. Entry 3_l._; the second yacht to save her stake. It is to be regretted that the details of this race cannot be given. On May 21, 1838, at a meeting held of the few remaining members of the Irish division, it was resolved to dissolve that half of the Club and hand over any funds (they amounted to 14_l._ 17_s._ 2_d._) to the secretary of the Scottish division. [Illustration: Northern Yacht Club cruising off Garroch Head, 1825. (_From a Painting by Hutcheson at R.N.Y. Club, Rothesay._)] It is unfortunate that the records of the Scottish division and of the Royal Northern Club, after the dissolution and prior to 1846, have been lost. It had prospered much. The Clyde was developing rapidly and with great energy, as is shown by their four days' Regatta in 1835, the first day at Helensburgh, the second at Greenock, the third at Dunoon, the fourth at Largs, which is without doubt one of the most enthusiastic of yachting stations. It would be well to record here the cracks of the Clyde in 1835. The 'Gleam' (see illustration on next page), Falcon, 'Nymph' and 'Clarence,' were very leading craft. Tartar 30 tons A. Morris Sylph 30 " J. Crooks Dream 66 " A. Ranken Gleam (Fife)[3] 30 " H. Gore Booth Clarence 15 " R. Sinclair Amethyst 20 " J. Smith Wave 15 " T. C. Buchanan Emma 15 " Jas. Bogle Falcon 15 " Jas. Kerr Nymph 15 " H. F. Campbell [Footnote 3: The first celebrated cutter by Fife of Fairlie was 'Lamlash,' 1814.] Clyde yachting was now firmly established; Largs, Gourock, Greenock, Dunoon, Helensburgh, Rothesay, were the stations most frequented, and each successive season brings them forward more prominently, with well-sustained reputation. The present club-house at Rothesay was built in 1878, and the Royal Northern Yacht Club regattas are naturally always now held at that place, started from the Commodore's yacht which is moored off Craigmore for that purpose. A chart of the course is given, showing the whole set of different distances. The prominent feature of this club is that it has from a very early period of its history had a club yacht, which is open to hire by members for periods not exceeding a fortnight, and fine vessels they have from time to time chosen. The first was the well-known 'Orion,' then came 'Mosquito,' a grand iron boat built in 1848, designed by Waterman, and now a pilot boat doing good work. '�olus' came next. In 1885 the club had their present vessel, the 'Ailsa,' 66 tons, built by Fife of Fairlie; and who better could have been chosen? It has already been mentioned that Mr. John Allan, of Glasgow, was the first secretary for the Clyde, 1825. Mr. E. F. Donald is the present secretary. [Illustration: Midship Section. 'Gleam,' designed and built by Fife of Fairlie, 1834.] There is no doubt that, if variety be really charming, very charming weather can be found in the Clyde waters, even within the six-hour limit: dead calm, Zephyr, good sailing breeze, rain squalls, white squalls, and the rest. [Illustration: Royal Northern Yacht Club, Rothesay.] ROYAL CLYDE YACHT CLUB BY G. L. BLAKE The history of the Royal Clyde Yacht Club affords one more proof of the old belief that slow and steady progress is the most enduring. It is now nearly forty years since the following very modest announcement, under the heading 'Clyde Model Yacht Club,' appeared in the 'Glasgow Herald,' of August 28, 1856:-- A number of gentlemen connected with yachting propose to form a club under the above designation, with the view of furthering a greater amount of emulation amongst the proprietors of small yachts. It is proposed to take in yachts under 8 tons only, being the smallest acknowledged by the Royal Northern Yacht Club, and to have an annual regatta, to be held in rotation at the various watering-places along the coast. In answer to this call a meeting was held shortly after at the Globe Hotel, Glasgow, on which occasion about thirty-one gentlemen entered their names on the club's list as members. Messrs. Jas. Gilchrist, Archibald Kennedy, Richard Ferguson, Jas. Mum, J. Gibson, Jas. Spencer, Jas. Sutherland, and W. Kennedy were chosen to form the first committee and draw up a code of rules, Mr. W. Kennedy acting as secretary and treasurer. At a general meeting held the following month, September, the late Mr. Jas. Smith, of Jordan Hill, was elected first Commodore, and Mr. Tom Holdsworth Vice-Commodore, and before the end of the year the little club boasted some fifty members. [Illustration: Royal Clyde Yacht Club Hunter's Quay. Est. 1856.] On January 27, 1857, the Admiralty warrant was granted, allowing the club to fly the blue ensign with their burgee: blue with a red lion on a yellow shield in centre. Measuring officers were told off, who had to deal with the old Thames Rule of measurement, excepting in the method of taking the length, the club rule being that 'the length must be taken from outside of the stem to the outside of the sternpost at half the depth of each from the load water-line.' A curious provision was made, too, with regard to racing flags. The club had a series of flags numbered from 1 to 10, and each yacht was provided with a number according to priority of entry for a race, but this kindly thoughtfulness on the part of the ruling powers did not continue beyond a couple of seasons, and members had to provide racing flags for themselves, as they have done ever since. Though an opening and other cruises had been held, together with a small meeting at Largs, the first great event of the Clyde Model Yacht Club took place on August 29, 1857, off Helensburgh, when four items made up the programme, and Captain Small, Messrs. James Rowan, James Gilchrist, Robert Hart, Dan Buchanon and Thomas Falconer did duty as the sailing committee. The Commodore's yacht 'Wave' was moored off the baths for the occasion, and the course chosen was from the Commodore round the Shoal buoy--thence round a flag boat moored off Ardmore Point and back round the Commodore's yacht, leaving all on the port hand; twice round for the first and second races, and once round for the third and fourth. The first race was for yachts of 8 tons and under, and for this the 'Fairy Queen,' 8 tons, Mr. Grant, junior; 'Armada,' 7-1/2 tons, Mr. Dickie; 'Bella,' 8 tons, Mr. Walker; and 'Maud,' 8 tons, Mr. St. Clair Byrne, sailed, and finished in the order given. In the second face for yachts of 6 tons and under, the 'Pearl,' 4-1/2 tons, Mr. Ferguson; 'Maria,' 5 tons, Mr. R. Lyall; 'Leda,' 6 tons, Mr. Alexander Finlay; 'Comet,' 5 tons, Mr. Steven; and 'Clutha,' 5 tons, Mr. Spencer, entered, the three first coming in as named. The third race, for yachts of 4 tons and under, brought four competitors together--the 'Francis,' 3-1/2 tons, Mr. Miller; 'Lily,' 3-1/2 tons, Mr. Ure; 'Echo,' 2-1/2 tons, Mr. Sutherland; and the 'Banshee,' 4 tons, Mr. Taylor. The 'Francis' won, followed home in the order as above. The fourth item was for boats of 19 ft. over all, a class which, though developed almost out of recognition, has always remained a firm favourite. It may here be noted that an attempt made at the close of the season to introduce the American 'sail area' rule of measurement signally failed. Between the years 1857 and 1862 little of importance took place. During 1863 the first symptoms of a break out from bounds was exhibited, and prizes were given for a race for yachts of 25 tons and under, besides one for yachts of 10 tons and under. A stipulation was made with regard to the latter race--viz. that each yacht was to be manned by one hand only, a dangerous though sporting condition which had previously brought disaster and proved fatal in Irish waters, and has never been permitted since. Both races filled, Mr. Fulton's 'Glide,' 14 tons, won the first, and Mr. McIver's 'Brenda,' 8 tons, the second. With this divergence from the original scheme on which the club was founded the society threw off its old name and came out under the more independent title of the Clyde Yacht Club. To celebrate this era the annual regatta was lengthened out to a two days' programme, and the 'Lesbia,' 37, cutter; 'Reverie,' 41, schooner; 'Kilmeny,' 30, cutter, and 'Dawn,' yawl, met to do battle with the 15-ton 'Torch,' the crack of the year. Besides the annual regatta, at which yachts from all parts of the kingdom were invited to compete, the Corinthian regatta of the club must not be lost sight of or hidden away behind the lustre of the great event of the season. It had formed part of each season's programme of events for some years, and had been the means of cultivating a true taste for amateur seamanship. Many a member can look back to his first Corinthian race as the beginning of his practical experience in yacht racing. The races at these regattas have been mostly handicaps, and two or three are always open to yachts in cruising trim. The only conditions of the regatta are that 'Yachts may carry their ordinary paid hands, but no extra paid hands, and must be steered by members of a yacht club.' It is always pleasant to meet with names which are as well known as the club to which they belong, to whom their club owes much, and whose pride and interests are centred in its prosperity. It was in 1863 that two such members' names were added to the official list--the late Mr. J. A. Lockett as Rear-Commodore and Mr. William York as treasurer. Both these gentlemen have for the last thirty years been busily engaged in furthering the welfare of the club, the one in his capacity as secretary or treasurer, or both, the other in several offices, but principally as one of the house committee. When the year 1867 closed the Clyde Yacht Club's first racing decade, the club was well under way and able to hold its own with any existing yacht-racing community, both as a provider of sport and for the attractions offered to the lovers of yachts and yachting, when with their friends they were brought together on the waters of the 'Bonny Clyde.' This was noticeable in 1863, but it became much more so in 1865, when the well-known clippers 'Mosquito,' 59 tons; 'Glance,' 35 tons; 'Fiona,' 78 tons; and the 'Vindex,' 44 tons, came round to the Firth to sail under the Clyde Club's auspices. Though opening and closing cruises had always been in vogue since the foundation of the club, it was left for the tenth year to start the long series of these expeditions, which last from a Thursday to the Monday morning following, and, with the combined attractions of racing, cruising and social gatherings, have proved such pleasant features in each season's yachting. The list of members had now reached over 100, while the yacht tonnage had risen to 1,200 gross, comprising 87 yachts of 5 to 103 tons. Among these were included the three most successful yachts of the year in the United Kingdom, and, to the praise of the Clyde shores it may be said, all built and designed by Mr. W. Fife of Fairlie--the 'Fiona' in the 1st, the 'Kilmeny' in the 2nd, and the 'Torch' in the 3rd class. The season of 1868 would have passed without note or comment had it not been that the club founded an annual Corinthian match, in which two paid hands were to be allowed for yachts of 15 tons and over, and one paid hand to all the smaller yachts. The helmsman was to be an amateur, and no _shot-bag or shifting ballast_ of any kind was to be permitted. Besides proving that the club possessed amateur seamen capable of handling a racing yacht of any size, the fact that that unseaworthy equipment shifting ballast, which had been in use in the Clyde foot classes and in most racing yachts during the early Fifties, was to be abolished, at all events in this race, was a move in the right direction. 1869 is a year of real historical importance, for it not only gives the date when the 40-, 20-, and 10-ton classes became generally acknowledged, but it brings credit to the Clyde Yacht Club where credit is due, as being the founder of these classes, which held sway for so many years. A year later the club was the first to introduce the smaller class of 5 tons as a standing dish in its regatta programmes, and to the Clyde Yacht Club belongs the honour of being the first in the field to recognise that this diminutive class of flyers was well worthy on its own merits of being encouraged. [Illustration: The Start for Ardrishaig Cup.] Channel matches had been long ere this time a matter of annual interest with some of the clubs in the south of England, as well as the Royal Alfred Yacht Club at Kingstown, and Royal Northern in Scotland; but the sport of Channel racing and open-sea work had either not been thought of, or had met with no favour, for the first Channel match held in connection with the Clyde Club did not take place till 1871. The race came off after the regatta held that year at Barrow and before the Clyde regattas, the course being from Barrow to the Clyde, so that the yachts about to visit and race in the Firth might find it worth their while to put on a spurt and make the best of their way to their destination. No better course could be chosen for trying a vessel on all points of sailing, to say nothing of her sea-going powers, including as it does the passage between the Isle of Man and the Mull of Galloway. For this race the 'Enid,' 57 tons; 'Livonia,' 280; 'Glance,' 35; and 'Coralie,' 35, started, all yachts at that date as racers. The 'Glance' saved her time and carried off the trophy. If 1871 opened up Channel groping under racing trim, 'progress' must truly be held the motto for 1872. Not only was the club made a Royal club, and allowed the privilege of placing a crown over the lion's head in the burgee crest, but early in the spring of this year the Royal Clyde opened to its members the house which Mr. Hunter, of Hafton, had built for them at Hunter's Quay adjoining the hotel. Of course with a settled headquarters, Hunter's Quay became the future rendezvous for all club fixtures, such as opening and closing cruises, regattas, matches and the like; and as the opening cruise this year may be considered the first general meeting of members afloat off the new house, it will not be amiss to give a short description of it. The meeting took place on Thursday, May 30, and began at 2 P.M. with a lunch at the club-house, after which at 4 P.M. the yachts weighed anchor under the Commodore, and sailed under his orders till the signal was made from the flagship for them to make the best of their way to Rothesay. On arrival there, those who were not required on board their vessels to stow sails and clear up for the night took their dinghies ashore, or were taken in their gigs, for a stroll through the old town. In the meantime on board the yachts, as soon as the decks had been cleared up and ropes coiled down in their places, the galley fires were lighted, so that by 7 P.M. the men had had their tea, and the cooks and stewards were ready with goodly repasts awaiting the coming on board again of the hungry masters and their friends. Dinner over, the pleasures of the evening began with what is known as 'ship-visiting'--that is, the yacht-owner starts off, and either rows himself and friends in his dinghy, or is rowed in correct form, to some friend's yacht where he may remain, or, after a short visit, proceed, taking with him his host and as many of his friends as he can pack away in the gig's stern-sheets, to some other yacht, and so on _ad infinitum_. To row himself is much the better plan, since it means independence of the crew (which perhaps may consist only of one hand), and avoidance of a troubled conscience, that the man or men are being kept up and prevented from turning in. The following morning only a few burgees were visible, most of the yachts having donned their silken racing flags, for an early start had to be made in a handicap race to be sailed _viâ_ the Garroch Head (the most south-westerly extremity of the Isle of Bute) to Tignabruich. More than half the yachts were started in this race, for which four cups were provided as prizes. The contingent of small non-racers made Tignabruich by way of the Kyles of Bute, as did also some of the larger sailing yachts, which preferred calm and untroubled travelling to a dusting round the Garroch Head. The gathering at the head of the Kyles is, if anything, more enjoyable than that spent at Rothesay. The anchorage is more land-locked, and therefore less liable to disturbance from winds or sweeping seas, and ship-visiting can be carried on without any fear of a ducking or other unpleasantness. On the Saturday morning, the members of the club and their friends breakfasted together at 9.30 at the Royal Hotel, when the prizes were presented to the winners; after which a few returned to their yachts, got under way, and dispersed with the object of extending their cruise, while those left behind remained to enjoy the beautiful scenery and walks with which the locality abounds, and on Sunday attend church parade on board Lord Glasgow's yacht. [Illustration: 'Marjorie.' _Blue, with white cross. 68 tons_ (_J. Coats, Jun., Esq._). _Built by Steele & Co._, 1883.] Beyond the adoption by the club of the Royal Alfred Yacht Club rules and regulations, nothing of any moment worth chronicling took place till 1875, in which year the purchase was completed by the club of the whole of the grounds and buildings, including the hotel and club-house, and early in 1876 the members enjoyed the privilege of not only having a club-house, but also an establishment worked on the principle of a private hotel, where they could provide themselves and their families or friends with comfortable quarters on very reasonable club terms. In this matter the Royal Clyde Yacht Club is specially fortunate, as also in one other, viz. the magnificent scenic setting by which their possession is surrounded. Nothing can equal the Holy Loch for beauty and charm of colour, on a summer's evening, particularly about sunset, or an early winter's morning, with its sunrise lowering and accompanied by ever-changing tints lending their enchantments to the rugged grandeur of the hills which bound it. This, with the distant view up the Clyde, obtained from the club-house windows or frontage, is not to be surpassed in any country in the world. At the opening of the season of 1877, and the close of the second decade, the club numbered no fewer than 643 members, with a fleet of yachts computed at 195, and as the Club Regatta now occupied two days, the three Clyde clubs--viz. the Royal Clyde, the Royal Northern, and the four-year-old Mudhook Yacht Club--considered it necessary to work together for the furtherance of sport, and held their first meeting to arrange a suitable date for celebrating a 'Clyde Week.' A change was also made this season in the several courses at the regattas, a change which had been for some time considered desirable, and which turned out a welcome improvement. The new courses were as follows: For First-Class Yachts, from Hunter's Quay to Toward buoy, thence to Skelmorlie buoy, thence to the Powder Vessel's buoy, and thence to Hunter's Quay, leaving all on the port hand; twice round, distance 50 miles. The Second-Class Course lay from Hunter's Quay to Skelmorlie buoy, thence to the Powder Vessel's buoy, and thence to Hunter's Quay, leaving all on the port hand; twice round, distance 40 miles. The Third-Class Course was from Hunter's Quay to a flagboat moored in Inverkip Bay, thence to the Powder Vessel's buoy and back to Hunter's Quay; twice round, distance 30 miles. The Fourth-Class Course was from Hunter's Quay to the Inverkip flagboat, and back to Hunter's Quay; twice round, distance 24 miles. The Fifth-Class Course lay from Hunter's Quay to a flagboat moored off Dunoon Pier, thence to a flagboat moored off Kilcreggan and back to Hunter's Quay; twice round, distance 11 miles. Another new feature this season was the introduction of the Yacht Racing Association's scale of time allowances, based originally on that drawn up for the Royal Alfred Yacht Club by their late secretary, Mr. James A. Lyle. This scale had been in general use by the R.A.Y.C. for many years. In 1878, not only the club, but all those who had partaken of its hospitality, had to lament their loss in the death of Mr. Samuel King, one of the most kind and genial of its members. This year was remarkable for the entry in the race for first-class yachts on the second day of the regatta. Five yachts crossed the line for the 60_l_. prize, not one of which was less than 100 tons measurement, viz., the 'Lufra,' 222 tons, yawl; 'Jullanar,' yawl, 130 tons; 'Condor,' 190 tons; 'Cythera,' cutter, 116 tons; and 'Formosa,' cutter, 103 tons. From that day to this there has never been such a meeting of so many first-class large racing yachts, showing so great a tonnage. It may be said also of the useful little 5-ton class, at this time at its zenith of popularity, that the entries this season were the largest that have ever been known. No fewer than eight of these mosquitoes, including Mr. York's pretty little 6-ton yawl 'Rocket,' came to the fore on all the great occasions provided for their sport. [Illustration: 'May' _42 tons_ (_W. Chrystal, Esq., Vice-Com. Royal Clyde_). _Built by Steele & Co._, 1881.] During the years 1879, 1880, and 1881, there was a satisfactory increase in the number of members, and a consequent augmentation of the club funds. The annual amount given away at this period in prizes had reached something over 450_l._ The entries at the regattas during the seasons of 1880 and 1881 were splendid in the 20-ton class; no fewer than seven 20-tonners and the 15-tonner 'Maggie' crossed the line in 1880, and in 1881 the same number, less the 'Maggie,' did likewise. A new class of 2-1/2-tonners was started in 1880 with seven yachts to its name, and in 1881 still another class had to be catered for, consisting of 3-1/2-tonners. The entries, too, this year, in the first class must not be forgotten; for in these days of fashionable small yacht racing it almost reads like a fairy tale when it is said that, out of nine entries, seven yachts were of 89 tons and over, the other two being about 60 tons each. If the above two years are notable in the annals of the club, in the following year, 1882, its prosperity was evinced in a marked degree by the addition to its possessions of a club yacht; and as there are only one or two clubs which provide such a luxury for their members, it may not be amiss to give a short account of the _modus operandi_ employed in connection with it. Among the 600 to 700 members of the club there were many who did not care to keep yachts of their own, but enjoyed an occasional cruise. It was in answer to a proposition made by one of these gentlemen that funds were procured by means of shares, which were bought by individual members, and by the club itself. In this way the necessary amount of purchase money was speedily collected, and a committee was told off to superintend the choice, purchase, and fitting out of a yacht, with all arrangements connected with manning, and the carrying out of the regulations in regard to hire, &c. The yacht thus secured by the club was the 'Alcyone,' 35-ton cutter, which had been built by Mr. D. Hatcher, and had proved herself no mean performer in the 40-ton class. She is a good wholesome vessel, and a fast and able sea-boat. Her accommodation is excellent, and includes berths for five passengers at least. There is capital headroom between decks, and any amount of space for stowage of baggage, &c. The 'Alcyone' is manned by a captain and four hands, and when a member hires the yacht he has no expenses whatever to provide for beyond the hire and the keep of himself and friends while on board. Four rules were framed by the committee in charge, as being necessary for the working of the scheme, viz: First.--The limit of time for hire is 14 days. Second.--The cost of hire is 3_l._ 10_s._ per diem, including cruet stores. Third.--The club is to keep a supply of liquors on board, to be supplied at a small profit. Fourth.--Hirers are bound, if called upon, to deliver up the yacht in the Holy Loch, or at any other anchorage inside the Cumbrae Head. If it is desired to keep the yacht for a month, then it must be done by two members joining together in the hire, the one putting his name down for the first fortnight, and the other for the second. The cost of hire may seem at first sight somewhat heavy, but the 'Alcyone' is kept up like a private yacht, and no money has been spared to provide every possible contrivance which might be conducive to comfort. The success of the venture is proved by the fact that she has rarely been disengaged or unlet for more than a day or two during any one season since her purchase. Another sign of prosperity was the institution of an annual club ball, which is held at the St. Andrews Hall, Glasgow, during the winter months, and acknowledged to be one of the principal balls of the year and one of the great events of the winter season. The next year--1883--showed a still further advancement in the club's popularity, for it was the chosen recipient of a Queen's Cup. This prize was sailed for on July 14, during the 'Clyde Week,' in a race for all yachts over 40 tons, and no fewer than eleven yachts started. [Illustration: 'Thistle' _Winning the Queen's Cup in the Clyde._] If, however, 1883 has been rendered famous for being a Queen's Cup year, 1884 will be noted for the success of its closing cruise, and the sport it provided. This season surpassed itself in the number of entries for the closing cruise handicap, and never have so many yachts come forward to race for the handsome cups, the gifts of members of the club, as on this occasion. In the first match for yachts over 40 tons, ten entered, including five over 90 tons, three 60-tonners, and two of 40 tons. It was the race for 20-tonners, however, that gave real character to the meeting, and there can be no mistake in saying that no other club in the kingdom has ever had to start so many as nine 20- and two 15-tonners in one race, all clever fast yachts, and no third or fourth rate cruisers, as will be seen from their names: 'Clara,' 'Lenore,' 'Amathea,' 'Louise,' 'Sayonara,' 'Irene,' 'Thyra,' 'Maggie,' 'Calypso,' 'Rival,' and 'Gem.' In the race for 10-tonners seven started, among them the old 'Helen' schooner, 17 tons, a yacht which saw more hard sailing than perhaps any other belonging to the club. She was built at Cowes, and was one of Halliday's pretty creations, a few of which are still to be met with. In 1892 she was unfortunately driven on the rocks off Hafton in the Holy Loch, during a severe gale, and was soon smashed into matchwood. For the prize in the 5-ton class three put in an appearance, all the fastest racing yachts of the year. [Illustration: 'Clara,' 10 tons, midship section.] The courses for yachts of 40 tons and upwards were altered in 1885; instead of rounding the Powder buoy a mark buoy anchored off Kilcreggan became the furthest point. In 1886 the club forwarded a challenge to the New York Yacht Club, in the name of Mr. Jas. Bell, and this ended in the yacht 'Thistle,' now known as the 'Meteor' and owned by H.I.M. the German Emperor, being built, and sent across the Atlantic, to contend for the Cup won by the 'America.' The 'Thistle' and 'Volunteer' matches were the consequence, and they are so well known that it would be superfluous here to furnish an account of them; suffice it to say that, though the Scotch yacht did not win the great event, her performances with the 'Volunteer' not only taught British yachtsmen many a lesson, but afforded not a few hints to their American rivals. At the beginning of 1887, the end of the club's third decade, the finances of the club consisted of a capital of 6,990_l._, and the amount at this time annually expended on yacht racing was 487_l._, exclusive of gifts of money made by individual members. During the ten years the numbers on the list of members fluctuated from 610 to 640: in this particular year only 610 names appeared on the list. With regard to the number of yachts sailing under the club flag, there had been the same variation, for though always between 180 and 197, this year the yachts numbered only 189, or 11 fewer than the previous year, the gross tonnage amounting to 12,302 tons. During the winter of 1886 many matters were discussed which brought forth fruit in the season of 1887, and made that year more important than it otherwise would have been. First of all, the club had to regret the loss of their Commodore, Lord Glasgow, who, after acting for over a quarter of a century in that office, was compelled to give up the appointment owing to failing health. Mr. John Clark was elected to take his place, and Messrs. Jas. Bell and H. Lamont became Vice- and Rear-Commodores. Mr. York, to whom the writer is much indebted for assistance given him in compiling this notice, held the office of secretary and treasurer, which he had so ably filled for over twenty years. During the winter the club had acquired three boats, of 19 ft. length on the load water-line, for the benefit of those members who wished to go out for a day's sail; the three boats being made, as far as the designer, builder, and sailmaker were concerned, as nearly equal in merits as it was possible for them to be, in order that they might show good sport when taken out racing together. Prizes for a race for these boats have since been regularly given at the regattas, to encourage members to take them out match sailing. In this way they have proved very useful in initiating many a tiro into the secrets and mysteries of yacht racing. [Illustration: 'Lenore' _Fife of Fairlie_, 1882.] This year, too, witnessed another change in yacht measurement. The Yacht Racing Association had formulated and passed a rule of measurement by length and sail area, the length to be taken along the load water-line. This rule was adopted by the club, and at the regattas all yachts were rated according to it, with the exception of the 3-1/2-tonners; these, as they happened to be the class of the year, were allowed to race under the old rule for which they were built. As many as six of these little vessels made the Clyde their headquarters and sailed at the regattas. Through the club's agency, it must not be forgotten, telegraphic communication was opened up between Hunter's Quay, Glasgow, and the outer world. The club provided an office and guaranteed the sum required by the Post Office authorities, and by so doing conferred a benefit not only on themselves but on the whole surrounding neighbourhood. Early in 1888 the club was engaged in determining the several classes under which yachts built to the 'rating rule,' as it was called, should sail. For this purpose, Messrs. R. Wylie and J. B. Hilliard, the two well-known representative Clyde yachtsmen, were chosen delegates to consult with the other leading yacht clubs in the North regarding the adjustment of a classification for the smaller yachts and sailing boats racing on the Clyde, and full powers were given them to carry out any decision that might be arrived at. Those adopted were the 10, 6 and 3 rating classes with two length classes, one of 17 ft. on the water-line and 19 ft. over all, with a sail area limited to 530 ft.; the mainsail or lugsail not to exceed .75 of the total sail area; the other class to be for boats 15 ft. on the water-line. The 6-rating class was chosen that it might form one in which the 3-tonners of the preceding year would be able to enter, as they ranged over 5 and under 6 as raters. At the time these changes were taking place a rule was introduced that there were to be no 'restrictions on the use of centreboards.' The great feature of this year's regatta was the 'Queen's Cup,' the second presented to the club within five years, an event of which the members may justly be proud. In the interim between the Corinthian and annual regattas a channel match round Arran was inaugurated, for yachts not exceeding 9 tons Thames measurement and belonging to any recognised yacht club, for 50_l._, given in two prizes of 35_l._ and 15_l._, and presented by two members of the club. The course lay from Hunter's Quay down the Firth, through the Kyles of Bute, down Kilbrennan Sound between Arran and Cantyre, rounding Pladda Island, and home by any route. The yachts were to be _bona fide_ cruisers, and only jib-topsails were prohibited. No restrictions were made as to crew or helmsman. No fewer than eight small yachts sailed in the race, and it proved a far greater success than was at first expected. If this is to be known as the second Queen's Cup year, it will also have to be remembered for the terrible fire and loss of the club-house and hotel on July 12, nothing of which was saved, with the exception of some furniture, one or two models, and a few odds and ends. A club could be called upon to face no greater calamity, especially at a time when the season is at its height. Craigend Villa, within a short distance of the old house, was promptly rented as a makeshift for a year, and fitted up to meet all immediate necessities, while steps were taken at once to make arrangements for the building of a new house on the old site. To forward this the sum of 10,000_l._ was voted, which with another 8,000_l._ did not cover all the expenses. At the present moment there does not exist a more beautiful or conveniently arranged yacht club-house in the kingdom. [Illustration: 'Verve' _23-footer_ (_Robert Wylie, Esq._)] Notwithstanding the liberal sums devoted by the club to match sailing, there have always been at each regatta meeting a plentiful supply of cups and purses forthcoming to swell the list of prizes, the gifts of individual members. To enumerate all the donors would be out of place here, but it is impossible to overlook such names as Bell, Buchanon, Clark, Coates, Falconer, Ferguson, Forrester, Lockett, Ure, Wylie, and York, names which will ever be linked with the club's successful past. The year 1890 was remarkable principally for the number of 10-raters belonging to members, and entered for races in that class. It seemed like a resuscitation of the old 10-tonner days. On the other hand, the Clyde, the home of the 5-tonner, had not a single 5-rater to its name, and a 6-rating class had to be formed to take in the Irish contingent, which with Mr. Inglis's little 'Darthula' raced for the prizes provided for them. The 2-1/2-rater class made its entry in the club programmes, and started with a small fleet of seven yachts, including four belonging to the Royal Ulster Yacht Club; but in 1891 this class became the fashionable class of the year, and the club of itself could boast of no fewer than eight of these small fry. The fleet belonging to the club in the year 1857 numbered 56 yachts, mostly of very small tonnage. By 1867 the number had risen to 87 only, but then the gross tonnage was very much greater, viz. 1,200 tons. In 1877 there were 194 yachts, including a few screw steamers. In the year 1887, 189 names appeared on the club yacht list, i.e. five fewer than in 1877, but the total tonnage on the other hand amounted to 12,302 tons. The last half-decade, however, has quite eclipsed all preceding years, for the yachts now flying the Royal Clyde Yacht Club burgee number 267, which represent a gross tonnage of no less than 14,407 tons. Last year not far short of 1,000_l._ was given in prizes. The club at the present time numbers 951 members, which will be seen to be an increase of over 300 within the last five years. It is a pleasure seldom accorded to writers of club histories to have to record such an exceptional advance, and in bidding farewell to the society, it may be firmly hoped and prophesied that long ere the close of its fourth decade the R.C.Y.C. will have increased its list of members to over four figures and its yachts and yacht-tonnage in proportion. THE ROYAL FORTH YACHT CLUB BY R. T. PRITCHETT The Forth Club was established in 1848 under the name of the 'Granton Yacht Club,' and received permission from the Queen to assume the title of 'Royal Forth' in 1883. The flag of the club is the blue ensign of Her Majesty's fleet, with a gold crown and Maltese cross. The club is now well supported, having as patron the Duke of Buccleuch, K.T. Sir Donald Currie, K.C.M.G., is Commodore, backed by a very influential staff. The Hon. Secretary is Mr. Bruce Fenwick. The number of members amounts to nearly 2,000, with a total tonnage of about 4,600; but the Firth of Forth has serious disadvantages as a yachting centre, being favoured neither by nature nor circumstances as is the Firth of Clyde, which absorbs all yachting interests. Mr. T. B. C. West, who carried off the Queen's Cup at the Regatta in 1892 with his well-known 40-rater 'Queen Mab,' presented a challenge cup of 100 guineas, to be sailed for annually in the month of June. That, however, was not sufficient inducement to get a large entry. The fact is there are so many regattas now that the tendency is to concentration, and consequently outlying stations suffer. The Royal Forth Yacht Club had a match in June 1893, at the beginning of their water sports, from Hartlepool to Granton, for a prize of 30_l._ The starters were The Creole Cutter 40-rater Lieut.-Col. Bagot. Daydream Yawl 89- " Mr. James Shepherd. [Illustration: Royal Forth Yacht Club Courses.] The wind was very light at the start, which took place at 10.50 A.M. on Thursday, June 22. Later on light airs from east-north-east helped them; but off the Farne Islands--without any notice or disturbed appearance in the sky--a tremendous squall struck 'Creole'; she, however, behaved splendidly, and was specially well handled. By Saturday morning the weather had moderated and they got the mainsail on her and ran up past Inch Keith, getting the gun at 11.34 A.M. from the 'Iolanthe.' The larger vessel, the yawl of 89-rating, had her troubles too, and finally got into the Tyne on Saturday morning, under storm canvas. On the last day of the racing--June 26--there was a match for yachts belonging to the Royal Forth Yacht Club, for the T. B. C. West Challenge Cup, the entries confined to members of the club. Five yachts entered for the race, over a course of forty miles. The tonnage was very small, and the handicap one of large range; it will be noted that 'Ida,' at scratch, allowed 'Lintie' 1 hr. 23 mins. 48 secs. +---------------+--------+-------------------+-----------------------+ | | | | | | Yacht Rig | Rating | Handicap | Owners | |---------------+--------+-------------------+-----------------------| | | | | | | Ida Cutter | 12 | Scratch | Messrs. Park & Wilson | | Nora " | 8 | 12 m. 24 s. | Dr. W. S. Armitage | | Uranus " | 3.9 | 36 m. 47 s. | Mr. F. A. Robertson | | Glance " | 3.7 | 40 m. 42 s. | Mr. W. A. Bell | | Lintie Lug | -- | 1 hr. 23 m. 48 s. | Mr. G. W. Mitchell | +---------------+--------+-------------------+-----------------------+ The start took place at 10.37 A.M., with a nice breeze from the north-west. 'Lintie' led off, but 'Nora' soon took up the running and led all the way home, finishing at Granton:-- h. m. s. Nora (winner) 6 21 32 Ida 6 29 30 Uranus 6 47 0 Glance 7 42 32 Lintie 7 58 0 This will give some idea of the application of time allowance. The ROYAL EASTERN, established 1835, is a small Scottish Club whose existence may be noted; but yachting does not flourish much on the East Coast. CHAPTER III IRISH CLUBS THE ROYAL CORK YACHT CLUB BY R. T. PRITCHETT The ancestral origin of this club, which has its station at Queenstown, was the Water Club of the Harbour of Cork, established in 1720. It is therefore the _doyen par excellence_, and its rules and orders as carried out in its early days are original and entertaining. A few of the rules may be quoted: I. Ordered that the Water Club be held once every spring tide, from the first spring tide in April to the last in September inclusive. II. That no Admiral do bring more than two dishes of meat for the entertainment of the club. III. Resolved that no Admiral presume to bring more than two dozen of wine to his treat, for it has always been deemed a breach of the ancient rules and constitutions of the club, except when my Lords the Judges are invited. V. Ordered that the Secretary do prepare an Union flag, with the Royal Irish harp and crown on a green field in the centre. Ordered that the Water Club flag be hoisted on club days early in the morning on the Castle of Haulbowline. IX. Ordered that no long tail wigs, large sleeves or ruffles be worn by any member at the club. Ordered that when any of the fleet join the Admiral, if they have not guns to salute they are to give three cheers, which are to be returned by the Admiral, and one cheer to be returned by the Captain so saluting. XIII. Resolved that twenty-five be the whole number of the members that this club may consist of. XIV. Resolved that such members of the club or others as shall talk of sailing after dinner be fined a bumper. XX. Ordered that the Knight of the Island for the time being do suffer no person or persons whatsoever to go into the club room, unless brought by a member, or by an order of five members at the least, under their hands, on pain of being cashiered. XXI. That the Admiral singly, or any three captains whom he shall appoint, do decide all controversies and disputes that may arise in the club, and any Captain that shall refuse to abide by such decision is to be expelled. N.B. This order to extend to the Chaplain, or any other inferior officer. _April 21, 1737._--Ordered that for the future, unless the company exceed the number of fifteen, no man be allowed more than one bottle to his share, and a peremptory. [What a 'peremptory' was remains a mystery.] _Old Members_, 1720 Lord Inchiquin Hon. James O'Bryen Charles O'Neal Henry Mitchell Rich. Bullen, Chaplain John Rogers _New Members_, 1760 * Thomas Newenham Morough O'Bryen George Connor Rich. Longfield James Nash William Hodder * Philip Lavallin John Newenham Walter Fitzsimonds * Samuel Hoare William Hays Michael Parker * Abraham Devonshere John Bullen * Robert Rogers * James Devonshere John Walcot Thomas Parsons Henry Puxly Robert Newenham, Sec. 1760.--Members whose names are marked thus * subsequently died or left the club; the following were elected in their room, and are added in MS. in the old copy:-- Edward Roche Edmund Roche Richard Dunscombe John Atkins John Baldwin Robert Baldwin Sampson Stawell [Illustration: Yachts of Cork Water Club, 1720. From an old picture at the R.C.Y.C., Queenstown.] _Sailing orders for the Water Club fleet_, 1720 The fleet to rendezvous at Spithead on club days by the first quarter ebb, any boat not being in sight by the time the Admiral is abreast of the Castle in Spike Island, to forfeit a British half-crown for gunpowder for the fleet. When the Admiral hoists his foresail half up, it is for the fleet to have a peak upon their anchor, and when the foresail is hoisted up and a gun fired, the whole fleet is to weigh. _Observe_ that if the Admiral wants to speak with any of the fleet he will make the following signals. If with the Vice-Admiral he will hoist a white flag at the end of the gaff or derrick, and fire two guns. If with any private Captain he will hoist a pendant at his derrick, and fire as many guns as the Captain is distanced from him and from the same side. When he would have the fleet come to an anchor, he will show double Dutch colours at the end of his gaff and fire a gun. When the Admiral will have the whole fleet to chase he will hoist Dutch colours under his flag, and fire a gun from each quarter; if a single boat he will hoist a pendant and fire as many guns from the side as a boat is distanced from him. When he would have the chase given over, he will haul in his flag and fire a gun. Some storm seems suddenly to have burst upon the gay fleet, for after the year 1765 there is a long vacuum in the records. The club journal sets forth, however, that on July 1, 1806, the Marquis of Thomond, Lord Kingsale, the Fitzgeralds, the Penroses, the Newenhams, the Drurys, and others, styled therein 'original members,' met, and agreed to revive the old Water Club; but there is no reason to suppose that the club was set afloat in its ancient splendour, and the attention of the members would appear to have been chiefly directed to the useful purpose of exciting competition among the fishing and rowing boats in the harbour, to which they gave annual prizes. [Illustration: Royal Cork Yacht Club Queenstown.] Towards the end of the year 1821, the yachting spirit of both sexes in Cork Harbour declined, and the Water Club was but feebly kept up; indeed, Lords Thomond and Kingsale, Messrs. Savage, French, Cooper Penrose, Thomas Roland, John Marragh, William Harrington, John Roche, with a few others, were its sole representatives; and the club as a body at this period may be almost said to have become extinct, as no meetings were held, or proceedings recorded. But the next year a party of youngsters, higher up the river, took possession of the vacant territory, and in 1822 a little fleet was again seen in the harbour. This society, originating in a picnic club, having its rendezvous at Monkstown, and consisting of small craft, did not assume the title of the Cork Harbour Club, but contented itself with the more humble appellation of the 'Little Monkstown Club.' From these small beginnings, however, the present Royal Cork Yacht Club had its immediate origin, in 1828, when Thomas Hewitt, Caulfield Beamish, and a few other enterprising individuals of the Monkstown Club, supported by the patriotic proprietor of 'Footy,' John Smith-Barry, and the greater part of the old Water Club members then living, met and resolved to revive and re-establish it on a solid and permanent basis. The new arrangements were judiciously made, and the club, re-established under the title of the Cork Yacht Club, rose rapidly to eminence. The Water Club is ably and favourably noticed in the 'Tour through Ireland.' (London. Printed for J. Roberts, in Warwick Lane, 1748.) [Illustration: Yacht Club Flags. _The dates show when the Clubs were established._] [Illustration: Cork Water Club putting out to sea, 1720.] I shall now acquaint your Lordships with a ceremony they have at Cork. It is somewhat like that of the Doge of Venice wedding the sea. A set of worthy gentlemen who have formed themselves into a body, which they call the 'Water Club,' proceed a few leagues out to sea once a year, in a number of little vessels, which for painting and gilding exceed the King's yacht at Greenwich and Deptford. Their Admiral, who is elected annually, and hoists his flag on board his little vessel, leads the van and receives the honours of the flag. The rest of the fleet fall in their proper stations and keep their line in the same manner as the King's ships. This fleet is attended with a prodigious number of boats, which, with their colours flying, drums beating, and trumpets sounding, forms one of the most agreeable and splendid sights your Lordships can conceive. The Union with harp and crown in the centre on a green field, was granted by the Lords of the Admiralty to William, Earl of Inchiquin, for the Cork Harbour Yacht Club, in 1759. The present club-house is delightfully situated at Queenstown; though old association clings rather to Haulbowline, with its quaint history. The old pictures in the club-rooms of the Water Club yachts are valuable as showing what the craft were in those days. Age has sombred them down so much that many details are unfortunately lost. We are indebted to Major H. H. Newman, the Hon. Secretary, for his assistance, and also to Major Lysaght, who kindly photographed these paintings. THE CLUBS AT KINGSTOWN, DUBLIN Co. Kingstown Harbour, so admirably adapted for sailing, has long been a favourite spot with yachtsmen. Formerly Kingstown was a small creek called Dunleary, but King George IV. embarked there on September 3, 1821, and promised a grant for a new harbour, which was finished in 1859 at a cost of 825,000_l._ This harbour encloses a clear sheet of water 250 acres in extent, of depth from 15 ft. to 27 ft. at low water, with a rise of 8 ft. or 9 ft. It affords good holding ground and shelter from all winds, and, being a harbour of refuge, there are no harbour fees. As a yachting station, in addition to being a safe anchorage, it has the advantage of enabling a yacht to get in or out to the open sea in a few minutes at any tide. The East Pier is a mile long, and forms one of the most perfect marine promenades in the world. Yachting took root here when the St. George's Yacht Club was established in 1838, though perhaps it should more strictly be dated from 1845 as it was in the latter year it obtained its Admiralty warrant. It has now become Royal, with Her Majesty the Queen as Patroness; Lord Dunleath (formerly John Mulholland, Esq.,) Vice-Commodore. A remarkably fine class of yachts is brought together in this club, and when the regatta is held Kingstown Harbour presents one of the finest aquatic spectacles in the world, embracing yachts and sailing boats of all classes. The 'Mermaids' and the 'Water Wags,' which give annually great sport in the Bay, are described in a following chapter. The Royal Irish Club has its club-house in a fine and convenient situation; established as it was in 1846, there will soon be two yachting jubilee regattas in Dublin Bay. July is the month when aquatic revelry is in full swing. Many is the hard race sailed from the harbour round The Kish, and many the spar carried away when the high-spirited Corinthians have been cracking on. The Royal Ulster meets at Bangor, Co. Down, having the Marquis of Dufferin as Commodore; Lord Dunleath as Vice-Commodore; Captain Sharman-Crawford, of 'Red Lancer' fame, as Rear-Commodore. [Illustration: 'Erycina' _96 tons_ (_F. B. Jameson. Esq., R. St. George's Yacht Club_). _Built by Fife_, 1881.] [Illustration: Royal St George's Yacht Club, Dublin Bay.] ROYAL ALFRED YACHT CLUB BY G. L. BLAKE No sporting society in the whole of the three kingdoms has done more to encourage seamanship than that which has its station in Dublin Bay, and has been known for so many years past as the Royal Alfred Yacht Club. Worked on a basis somewhat different from that of most clubs, whose object is the encouragement of amateur sailing, this community sprang into being on March 19, 1857, at a meeting held in Gilbert's Hotel, Westland Row, Dublin, under the chairmanship of that fine practical yachtsman the late Mr. William Cooper, so well known to all patrons of the sport by his valuable works on the pastime he loved so well, written under the pseudonym 'Vanderdecken.' [Illustration: 'Oimara' _169 tons_ 'Flying Could' _75 tons_ 'Iona' _63 tons_ 'Fiona' _78 tons_ 'Arethusa' _58 tons_ 'Flag Boat' 'Pantomine' _142 tons_ 'Gwendoline' _197 tons_ 'Garrion' _Royal Irish Yacht Club Cup, Kingstown, July 24, 1873_ (_from a picture by Admiral Beechy_).] 'Smartness' might have been the motto of the newly launched club, for within a few weeks of the above date the Irish Model Yacht Club--thus it was christened while yet on the ways--had taken on board all the essentials necessary for a lengthened and prosperous voyage. Acker's signals were its code, and words of wisdom in the form of club rules had been duly got out and printed. A captain of the fleet, secretary, and treasurer, backed up by a very able committee of thirteen, constituted the 'powers that be'; and under their auspices, on May 21, the yachts of the club made their début in company in Ireland's Bay of Naples. It was during the following year that one of those rules was framed which proved for so many years such a notable club feature. It ran as follows: 'Every Saturday shall be a Fleet day unless there be notice to the contrary, and all yachts on the station, under a fine of 5_s._, shall be bound to join the fleet at a given hour, unless a satisfactory reason for the yacht's absence be given to the Sailing Committee. No yacht is to join unless the owner, or a member of a Yacht Club, be on board.' Of course this regulation has had to be rescinded in order to allow of club matches taking place, and the cruises in company have become less frequent; but it is impossible to estimate the value to seamanship of fleet sailing, because there is no method by which the sailor can more readily attain to the complete command of his vessel, and make her answer to his bidding. Sailing as he will be on such occasions in company with yachts of various sizes, sail-carrying power and speed, the yachtsman who can keep station will have learnt not only to have a confidence in himself and his vessel, but also how to vary her degrees of sailing from the reeling off of knots to an up and down log line. In 1859 the club was practically reorganised. A new book of amended rules and regulations was printed, and a book of signals produced and compiled by Mr. Jas. A. Lyle, who had been appointed honorary secretary. Among these new rules was this very useful and simple one: 'Each owner is to lodge with the secretary a duplicate of his racing flag, and this flag is to be carried on board the Commodore's yacht of the day, to facilitate signalling and avoidance of mistakes.' Towards the end of the season Lord Otho Fitzgerald, who had up to this time acted as captain of the fleet, gave up the office, and till it was eventually done away with, a Challenge Cup was instituted, open to all yachts of 15 tons (the largest size among the racing fleet) and under, to be sailed for annually. It was ruled that in future the holder of this cup should fill the office of captain of the fleet for the ensuing year. So far the club matches had been few and somewhat irregular. Three classes had been formed, consisting of yachts of 10 and not exceeding 15 tons, of 6 and not over 10, and of others under 6 tons. This year, however, was started the annual series of racing matches, which have for over thirty years been so popular with the racing fraternity of St. George's Channel and the Clyde; and each season's programme has only undergone such alterations as have been necessitated by the increased tonnage of the competing yachts, or as may further racing according to the fashionable sizes of the yachts of the period. About this date, too, it was found necessary to obviate the difficulty which was being felt with regard to manning and sailing yachts, owing to the number of large yachts, which already flew the club burgee; the original rule, that permitted members only to be employed, was therefore stretched, in order to admit of any member of a Royal Yacht Club, who had paid his subscription, or any gentleman amateur not a seafaring man, being entered as a racing hand. In 1864 the club advanced another step safely, and emerging from its chrysalis stage of a model yacht club, butterflied it in public as the Prince Alfred Yacht Club, keeping the same objects in view as hitherto, viz., the encouragement of match sailing and the acquisition of practical knowledge amongst its members of how to steer and handle their own vessels, especially while sailing. Commodores were appointed in place of a captain of the fleet, to carry on the more extended duties of the club; and Messrs. Putland, Scovell, and Bolton, whose names are household words throughout the yachting world, were the first officers to hold the appointments. No fewer than five classes had now to be created to take in the racing fleet; the class for yachts of 40 tons and over included all the big ones, that for 7 tons and under was open to the small fry. Two years later (1866) the Duke of Edinburgh identified himself more closely than heretofore with the club that bore his name, by becoming its patron, and presenting a cup to be sailed for; and it was during this season that prizes were instituted, in the shape of gold pins bearing the club burgee, to especially encourage the art of helmsmanship. 1866 is also worthy of being remembered as having witnessed the introduction of the annual Kingstown and Holyhead matches, with which, since that time, the racing programme of the season has nearly always started. The standing rule which specially distinguishes this club is that all money received shall go towards racing expenses and prize funds. The consequence follows that, limited though the club is to 300 members (there were 200 in 1864), it is able to provide good prizes for all classes, and can show more sport for its money than many another richer club which is hampered with a house. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and the success of this homeless club, as many have called it, should read a really useful lesson to the committees of all young yachting or other sporting communities, not to be too anxious about bricks and mortar or entering on the responsibilities of housekeeping. In 1868 another new feature, which at once became popular and is so to the present day, was started by Mr. G. B. Thompson. This was a series of matches to be held each year for yachts manned by amateurs only; and it is in some of these races, which have taken place during the past quarter of a century, that the capabilities of the members have prominently appeared as first-class able seamen. This season, however, will always be remembered for the race that was sailed on June 1 by the 2nd class yachts--viz. those over 25 and under 40 tons, in which the 3rd class yachts were allowed to enter at 26 tons. The 'Xema,' 35; 'Vampire,' 20 (rated at 26); 'Echo,' yawl, 37; 'Secret,' 31; 'Kilmeny,' 30; 'Wavecrest,' yawl, 35; and 'Amberwitch,' yawl, 52 tons, started. Three paid hands were allowed to each yacht. The course lay from Kingstown Harbour, round the North Bar buoy, Kish Lightship, and the Hauling buoy in Kingstown Harbour--twice round, to start from moorings. Though the weather was anything but satisfactory, all the morning had been fine, and there had been scarcely any wind, so that light muslin, in the shape of large topsails, balloon foresails, and big No. 1 jibs, was donned by all the competitors, at all events for the reach out to the Bar buoy. The old 'Bat' was the first to get away, but she was soon overhauled by the 'Echo,' the rest following in line abreast. As the day grew on, the wind, from being shifty and all over the place, gradually settled down from the eastward, and the 'Wavecrest' being the first to feel the true wind, she very naturally made use of it, and went through her vessels as if they had been at anchor. She was not allowed, however, to have the game all to herself for many moments, as the 'Amberwitch' and 'Xema' were soon on her track, while the 'Kilmeny' and 'Vampire' indulged in a luffing match, and almost allowed the 'Secret' and 'Echo,' which were doing rearguard, to overtake them. The buoy was rounded in the order given above, and as the wind had been increasing rapidly the crews were now called on to show their smartness in handing in the wind persuaders and substituting second jibs and working foresails for the close-haul out to the Kish. Those who know what the face of the waters is like off the Kish Bank when a hard easterly wind has set in will have some idea of the kind of business that was being transacted on this occasion, on the outward journey. Soon it became evident that topsails were altogether out of place, and those who had shifted ballooners for small square-headers had to take them in again and house their topmasts. The 'Xema' alone held on, though it could easily be seen that her topsail was not helping her at all. She had quite trouble enough too, as it turned out, without having useless top-hamper aloft, for her weather bowsprit shrouds began to show such signs of distress that it became necessary for her to hand in her head-sail and set a small jib. The 'Amberwitch' was heeling and toeing it to such an extent that, by sagging away to leeward, it became quite clear she was by no means having things her own way. The 'Xema,' on the other hand, notwithstanding her sail-plan, coming up under the 'Kilmeny's' lee, was forereaching well on her, when a further trouble overtook her in the parting of the main outhaul, and the traveller coming in as far as the reef battens--there were no outhaul horses in 1868--left the mainsail in a bag, a misfortune which was at once taken advantage of by the 'Kilmeny,' who promptly gave her the go-by. The 'Vampire' had quite as much as she liked with the broken sea she had to drive through, but it would have rejoiced the heart of the late Mr. Dan Hatcher, her builder, had he seen the way in which his little vessel stepped it out to windward and held her own with her larger sisters. The Kish was passed by the 'Kilmeny' as leader of the van, and she was followed by the 'Xema,' 'Amberwitch,' 'Echo,' and little 'Bat' in the order named. Now that they had rounded the lightship topmasts were sent on end again by all, with the exception of the 'Echo,' whose crosstrees had come to grief; square-headers were once more seen aloft, and sheets were checked well off for the run to the harbour. On nearing the piers the wind lightened as quickly as it had got up; it left the leading yachts almost becalmed, and only just able to gybe round the mark. Starting away again for the second round, the 'Xema' made use of the lack of wind to set up her headgear and secure her bowsprit shroud, but she had barely set things to rights before the wind came on with double vigour. It was a reach this time out to the Kish, and weight naturally telling, 'Kilmeny' was outpaced by the 'Xema,' which led round the lightship, followed closely by the 'Amberwitch,' 'Kilmeny,' 'Echo,' and 'Vampire,' with 'Wavecrest' to bring up the rear. The 'Secret' had got into difficulties about a mile from the lightship by her bowsprit snapping off close at the gammon iron, and with the sea that was running its crew had their work cut out for them in clearing the wreckage and sending out a jury spar. With the rest of the fleet it was a case once more of up topmasts and topsails for the run home, and a most exciting race was being sailed by the 'Xema' and 'Amberwitch' for the first place (the latter had to allow 'Xema' 2 mins. 12 secs., as she was a 51-ton yawl), when the wind, drawing off the shore as before on nearing their destination, brought it to an end. The sheets had accordingly to be hardened in, and a board to be made into Scotsman's Bay to get the benefit of the young flood, which was running in shore. A couple of short tacks now brought the 'Xema' clear out on the weather of the 'Amberwitch' and 'Kilmeny,' so that, gaining inch by inch, she managed to win at last. Nothing could have exceeded the smart manner in which the shifting of sails and the work aloft was carried out on board all the yachts. In 1869, the honorary secretary, Mr. Lyle, to whom the Club will ever be indebted for the care and interest he has shown in furthering its welfare, gave a tankard as a prize for a one-handed race, the conditions of which were: 'Only one man, and he a member of the Club, shall be on board, and all others must leave before any canvas is set or station taken.' Flying starts had not yet come into fashion, and therefore buoys had to be picked up. No fewer than ten yachts started for this race, five of which were over 10, and three over 5 tons. The 'Queen,' 15 tons, was the winner, but the season will be best known by the introduction of the celebrated Champion Cups, which have ever since shared the honours with the Corinthian matches in the Club programmes. To secure the necessary funds for providing these luxuries, members were permitted to commute their annual subscriptions by the payment down of 10_l._ By this means the greater portion of the handsome pieces of plate, for which so many flyers of their day have competed, were obtained. The Duke of Edinburgh, who, as already remarked, had been patron, assumed in 1871 the duties of commodore, a post he is still holding; the club had become Royal in the previous winter. The limit in the number of members was increased from 200 to 300, and the club burgee also underwent a change. Up to this date the club had sailed under no fewer than four different burgees. The original flag consisted of a red anchor on a blue field, but this only enjoyed a short life, as the anchor was changed into an Irish crown before the first season was over. In 1859, the flag appeared with a white ground, a blue cross with four points at the intersection of the cross forming the design, and in 1861 the field was changed again from white to red, with the new device of a yellow foul anchor. Now for the last time the device was altered from the ordinary foul anchor to that of a foul patent Trotman under an Imperial crown. The patent improved anchor represents the club's leading position as a Corinthian yacht racing society. Besides five champion cups of the several values of 120_l._, 60_l._, 35_l._, 25_l._, and 15_l._, one in fact for each class, the Duke of Edinburgh presented a 50_l._ cup. A gale of wind sprang up during the race for this prize, which was won by Mr. George Putland in the 'Enid.' She was the only one of all the yachts that crossed the line--flying starts were instituted this year--to finish the course, and it was the rounding of the Kish Lightship in this race by the 'Enid' that Admiral Beechy took as the subject of one of his most celebrated sea pictures. The 'Egeria,' schooner, was disabled very early in the race by the carrying away of the iron strop round her boom. During the season of 1872 the club was presented with the first of the three Queen's Cups of which it has been a recipient. Matches during the summer alternated each Saturday with cruises in fleet under one of the club officers, with regard to which one great point should be noticed, viz., that it has been the custom to sail only one match as a rule on each of the racing Saturdays. There are many other clubs which would do well to follow this example, as it is not infrequently next to impossible with some clubs for outport members and yacht-owners, when wishing to join in Corinthian matches, to obtain competent hands. 1872 was the last year in which single-handed racing received club support. A single-handed match had been sailed each season since their inauguration by Mr. Lyle, Mr. Alec Richardson winning twice (in 1870 and 1871) in the 'Naiad,' 10-tonner; but the sad loss of Mr. O'Connell, one of the most popular and sporting members of the club, together with his yacht, and the narrow escape from foundering of another, emphasised the advisability to stop such races for the future. The race in which this disaster occurred took place on June 1. The day was a peculiar one. A double-handed match had been sailed during the fore- and early afternoon, when a nice S.E. breeze favoured the competitors, which had one and all carried large topsails aloft. This race was finished, however, in a heavy downpour of rain, and was won by the Vice-Commodore, Mr. George Thompson, in the 'Madcap,' 20 tons. After the race was over the rain came down in such torrents that there was some hesitation about allowing the single-handed match to start, though there was no appearance of any heavy weather setting in. This fact, and there being no sea to speak of, settled the question, and accordingly the 'Petrel,' 10 tons, Mr. W. G. Jamieson; 'Mocassin,' 10, Mr. Corrigan; 'Madcap,' 20, the Vice-Commodore; 'Torment,' 5, Mr. Miller; and 'Peri,' 5 tons, Mr. O'Connell, most of them with reefed mainsails, made a start at 3 hrs. 5 mins. in the order named. The weather soon afterwards became very thick, and nothing was seen of the yachts till 6 hrs. 34 mins., when the 'Petrel' was discovered making for home. A number of yachts were out all the afternoon, and some of them on coming into harbour had passed the word that things were not going on as sweetly as they might outside. The wind had shifted to the S.W., and a considerable sea was running, increased or rather broken by the flood-tide. The 'Mocassin,' who had given up, corroborated the statement that was flying about, and soon after the 'Heroine,' 60-ton cutter, arrived with her topmast gone, followed by the 'Whirlwind' yawl, with the loss of her gig washed away from her davits. The danger was now clearly apparent, and a tug was immediately sent out to look for the yachts, as it was feared the small ones would be unable to beat up against the sea and make their port. The 'Pleione,' schooner, had fortunately fallen in with the 'Madcap,' and put a hand on board her just in the nick of time, for she had shipped a heavy cargo of water below owing to her fore hatch having been washed overboard, and her head-sheets had gone. The 'Torment' ran for Howth, whence she was helped back to her moorings by a friendly tug, which was sent later on to her assistance. The 'Pleione,' however, reported that the unfortunate 'Peri' had been pooped, and that she had immediately foundered, taking with her her plucky crew. The schooner had sailed on and about the spot for some time, hoping against hope to recover some memento of the catastrophe to carry back to Kingstown, and the tug was also employed in cruising round the locality, but to no purpose, as nothing was seen after she went down of either the 'Peri' or her owner. Though it is now more than ten years since this sorrowful occurrence, the name of Mr. D. O'Connell, beloved by all who knew him as a keen sportsman and a most genial friend, still remains green in the memory of Irish yachtsmen. Useful as the single-handed matches were for bringing out a display of seamanship, confidence and independence, it was as well under the circumstances that at this time they should end; but it seems a pity that the two-handed matches should have received their death-blow as well. The extra hand means all the difference between danger and safety. Of the work carried out by the club perhaps the programme for 1874 gives as fair a sample as it is possible to choose, taking one year with another. The list of matches was as follows:-- Nos. 1 and 2. Matches to and from Douglas, Isle of Man. No. 3. Match for yachts not exceeding 7 tons. No. 5 Champion Cup, with 7_l._ added. No. 4. Match for yachts not exceeding 20 tons. Corinthian Race. 25_l._ Helmsman 5_l._, with tankards for the crew. No. 5. For yachts not exceeding 25 tons. No. 3 Champion Cup; with 25_l._ added. No. 6. Open to all yachts. Corinthian Race, 50_l._ Helmsman 5_l._, and tankards for crew. No. 7. For all yachts not exceeding 7 tons; 15_l._ given by Mr. Macartney. No. 8. Match open to all yachts. No. 1 Champion Cup, 50_l._ added; two helmsmen's prizes of 4_l._ each. No. 9. For all yachts not exceeding 15 tons; 1st prize 15_l._, 2nd prize 10_l._, given by Mr. Fulton. Helmsman 5_l._ No. 10. For all yachts not exceeding 40 tons. 2nd Champion Cup, with 35_l._ added. No. 11. For all yachts not exceeding 15 tons. 4th Champion Cup, with 15_l._ added. One more race, which was promoted this year, must not be forgotten, as it would prove a very advantageous item in all yacht-club programmes, viz. a swimming match in clothes. The conditions were as follows: 'Each member must wear woollen socks, a pair of slippers, shoes or boots, woollen or canvas trousers, a flannel shirt, with a guernsey or yachting jacket; the distance to be covered 200 yards.' In the Corinthian matches it may be noticed that the club not only gives the customary helmsman's prize, and that a good one, but each member of the winning crew receives a tankard with the yacht's complement or the club burgee engraved on it, a principle again worthy of adoption by all Corinthian yacht clubs in races where no paid hands are permitted. At this period the club had the fine total of 163 yachts to a list of fewer than 300 members; and to show how admirably everything was carried on to the furtherance of sport, prizes were given to the amount of 364_l._ out of an income of 521_l._, the club expenditure being more than covered by 78_l._ These statistics are of interest as showing what can be done by a club when not fettered by club premises. The entry in the season of 1875 for the No. 1 Champion Cup is worthy of a notice here, since no fewer than seven of the large cracks of the year put in an appearance--'Fiona,' 75 tons; 'Cuckoo,' 92; 'Neva,' 62; 'Speranza,' yawl, 85; 'Latona,' yawl, 165; 'Egeria,' schooner, 147; and 'Gwendolin,' schooner, 197 tons; and as an example of a R.A.Y.C. Corinthian match, that which took place on July 17, 1876, for 'Twenty Tonners' will long be remembered, not so much for its record of spar-breaking, as for the seamanlike way in which difficulties were overcome. The description of the race is here given almost in the words of an account for which the writer is indebted to Mr. James Drury, who was himself an active witness on the occasion. The weather was far from favourable owing to a strong gale during the previous night having raised a nasty tumbling sea on the banks, while the wind, though moderate in the early part of the afternoon, at times blew in fierce squalls, rendering it necessary to reduce canvas at awkward moments. The entries were:-- 'Hinda' 18 tons Mr. G. B. Thompson. 'Sheilah' 20 " Mr. Pascoe French. 'Challenge' 20 " Mr. Fred Thompson. 'Sunshine' 20 " Mr. D. MacIvor. Prizes: Owner, 25_l._; helmsman, 5_l._; crew, tankards. Course No. 3 (24 miles), no paid hands allowed. Though the number of competitors was smaller than usual, the quality was extremely good, all four being well known as about the best of their class. A nice southerly breeze was blowing, making it an easy reach to the South Bar buoy, and the tide was just beginning to flow to the northward. The 'Hinda' was the first away, steered by her owner, followed close astern by the 'Sunshine,' which had won so many prizes in 1874, with Mr. Henry Dudgeon at her helm. 'Sheilah' was third, with the late Mr. Pascoe French as pilot, and last, though only some 45 seconds behind the leader, came the 'Challenge,' with a crew who had come over from Liverpool in her or by steamer, and comprised the cream of the Mersey and Cheshire yacht clubs, among them Mr. Richardson, her designer, who now handled the lines. The 'Hinda' and 'Sunshine' each carried a crew of eight hands all told, while the 'Sheilah' and 'Challenge' had a complement each of ten hands, including the helmsman. All the yachts had whole lower canvas and jibheaded topsails set, except the 'Sheilah,' who had a small square header aloft, and 'Sunshine,' who had prudently reefed her mainsail and foresail, although they still looked big enough for a 30 even thus reduced. The 'Sheilah' soon showed her speed off the wind, as, going through 'Sunshine's' lee like a dart, she led the fleet and placed herself some 50 seconds ahead of any other by the time she had made the first turning point, where it was 'gybe ho,' and she increased this lead to 2-1/4 minutes at the Rosebeg, the others having played at luffing and thus impeded each other. Sheets were now hardened in for a close haul to the North and South Burford buoys, and 'Sheilah' soon found her topsail too much for her in the jumpy sea; but unfortunately it had been set with the tack to leeward, and was not therefore handy for shifting, while, worse than this, her big No. 1 jib was pulling her head off, and with a single sheet only it was more than her foremast hands could manage to get it properly aft. The 'Challenge' held a beautiful wind, and getting clear of the other two, weathered fast on 'Sheilah,' though she did not headreach on her. Mr. French, wishing to shift his topsail, went about on the port tack before he could weather the South Burford, but meeting the 'Challenge' on the starboard tack, and fearing he would not be able to clear her, stayed under her lee, with the effect of being dead covered for four or five minutes, when the first bitter puff that came clear of the after leach of 'Challenge's' mainsail whipped 'Sheilah's' topmast over her side. She was immediately hove about, and her crew set to work to clear away the wreck, Messrs. Drury and Dunne running aloft and casting off the topsail lacing; but before they could get the sail down or the rigging secured, it was found necessary to go about again in order to pass the mark on the proper hand, and four or five minutes banging about of the wreck to leeward laced everything up into such a horrible state of confusion that it took the crew all they knew to get the topsail below, the broken mast on deck, and the rigging secured. The 'Challenge' in the meantime, capitally sailed and handled, crept away steadily, and the 'Hinda' drew up on the 'Sheilah,' while the 'Sunshine' still kept the rear, not seeming to like the rough water. At 2 hrs. 27 mins. 35 secs. the 'Challenge' stayed round the buoy in Kingstown Harbour, followed by the 'Sheilah' 2 hrs. 33 mins. 10 secs., having her tricolour flag flying from her crosstree. The 'Hinda' rounded at 2 hrs. 34 mins. 55 secs., and the 'Sunshine' at 2 hrs. 37 mins. 30 secs. The wind was now much more westerly, and the squalls stronger. The 'Sheilah' set her balloon foresail for the reach out, in hopes of lessening the distance between her and the leader, and certainly gained a little. After the gybe Mr. French determined to shift his jib, especially as the starboard whisker had begun to buckle, and for this purpose gybed back and ran in under Howth--a great loss of time, for when the boom came over again the 'Hinda' was ahead. The 'Sunshine,' after reaching Rosebeg, carried away her mast bodily, some 17 ft. from the deck, and the whole top-hamper fell overboard, leaving her helpless, and in anything but a pleasant predicament with so heavy a sea running, and the rocks of Howth under her lee. However, several yachts and a tug went off to her assistance, and after drifting round the Bailey, the tug got hold of her and brought her back, a sad wreck, to Kingstown Harbour. Meanwhile the squalls were becoming sharper, and the sea heavier and more broken, threatening destruction to bowsprits and bobstays, as the little vessels wallowed in the trough. The 'Sheilah,' showing her power, drew up abreast and close to the 'Hinda' between the Burfords, and all hands were admiring the way she was carrying her canvas, having her jib-topsail still aloft, and going like a bird, when crash! away went her mast, just under the hounds, leaving her quite as helpless as the 'Sunshine,' but in clearer and more open water. No one was hurt, and the 'Sheilah' at once triced up her tack, lowered her foresail, and hove to alongside her disabled consort in order to give help if required. Her crew employed themselves, while waiting, in hauling down a reef. This 'Challenge' perceived, and having matters quite safe, she at once followed suit, and made all snug for the thrash home of four miles; a happy matter for her, as her mast was badly sprung and might have gone at any moment. By the time the reefs were down, the 'Whirlwind,' 77-ton yawl, belonging to Mr. J. Townsend, had hastened to the assistance of her disabled little sister, and sending a warp to her, took her in tow. The 'Challenge,' on resuming her course, was well ahead, and eventually the race ended by her rounding the flagships at 4 hrs. 37 mins. 10 secs., winning the prize for her owner, the helmsman's prize for Mr. Alec Richardson, and tankards for her crew, who deserved them well for their pluck in coming from Liverpool and for the way they sailed and handled their vessel. In addition to other damages, it was discovered on reaching the Harbour that the 'Sheilah's' mast, with the rigging and all, had settled down 2 inches, having badly torn the wood of the mast, while 'Challenge's' mast was also reported 'queer' aloft. The No. 1 Corinthian Match, which took place in 1879, would also give subject for much interesting reading and reflection did space permit, for smarter seamanship or a more exciting finish could not have been seen anywhere, not even in the bonny Clyde. It is only right to say that the members of this little club spare no energy or pains in order to become efficient racing yachtsmen; and to go out on a dirty afternoon to practise under difficulties shifting sail, reefing down, sending up and housing topmast, reefing in bowsprit and seamanship in general, is one of the means that have been before now employed to bring about the state of perfection which is exhibited by its leading hands, and for which the club is and always has been so famous. At the beginning of the eighties the courses underwent some slight alterations, and as these hold good at the present day it may be found useful information if they are given here. No. 1 Course.--From outside Kingstown Harbour to the South Bar buoy, thence to Rosebeg Bank buoy, the Kish Lightship, to a flagship moored off the East Pier End; three times round--48 miles. No. 2 Course.--The same as No. 1; only twice round--32 miles. No. 3 Course.--Kingstown Harbour to South Bar buoy, thence to Rosebeg Bank buoy, North Burford buoy, South Burford buoy, to flagship moored off the East Pier End; twice round--24 miles. No. 4 Course.--Same as No. 3, only once round, thence to South Bar buoy and the flagship off the Pier--16 miles. No. 5 Course.--Kingstown to South Bar buoy, thence to a flagboat moored two miles S.E. half-E., and to the flagship; twice round--4 miles. Of the various new classes that have sprung up within the last ten years, perhaps that in which the 3-tonners 'Rival,' 'Duchess,' 'Senta,' 'Currytush,' and 'Mimmie' are chiefly prominent has given about the most sport. Of these little ships, the 'Currytush,' one of the late Mr. Payton's greatest successes, could not only show her tail to the flyers of her class wherever she presented herself, but she gave the Solent 30-ft. class a good dressing in a thrash to windward against a nasty head sea and in a hard blow. The small class for yachts of seven or six tons and under has always been a great favourite in Dublin Bay, but for two or three years a regular 5-ton class held sway, and the season of 1885 witnessed its dying kick in the coming together of the 'Shona,' 'Luath,' 'Delvin,' and 'Doris.' The 'Luath' and 'Doris' were new this season. The 18-ft. and 25-ft. open-boat classes, however, both have run these very fine in public favour, especially the latter. The rule of measurement adopted, and the conditions of sailing, are as follows:-- The extreme draft is not to exceed one-sixth of the load-water-line. The counter, if any, is not to exceed one-sixth of load-water-line, nor is the rabbit, where it intersects the afterside of the sternpost, to come nearer the surface of the water than 4 in. The overhang of the bow, if any, is not to exceed one-sixth of the load-water-line. Any excess of overhang beyond these limits must be added to the length of the load-water-line, and the result taken for class and time-allowance. The whole overhang of any counter, whose rabbit, where it crosses the afterside of the sternpost, is less than 4 in. above the surface of the water, must be added to the length of the load-water-line, and the result taken as the length for class and time-allowance. The crew, including helmsman, is not to exceed one man for every 7 ft. or fraction of 7 ft. One of these may be a paid hand. Centreboard boats are allowed to compete, but the plates are never to be lowered beyond the limit of one-sixth of their load-water-line and must be kept down at a fixed draught during the whole race. (If the latter part of this rule has been altered, it is only lately that the alteration has been made.) The Royal Alfred Yacht Club is still houseless, and keeps to its original purpose of devoting all its available funds to the encouragement of match-sailing. It has lost within the last few years the valuable assistance of its late secretary, Mr. James A. Lyle, who might almost be said to have fathered the club from its earliest infancy; but with a foundation so ably laid, a working team of thoroughly practical seamen to officer and steady the helm (and to whom I am greatly indebted for the help given me in compiling this paper), the members have every reason to be proud of the position their association holds as a representative racing yacht club. "GRAPHIC CRUISERS" OF DUBLIN BAY _Notes by the Hon. Skipper_ A lovely night, a gentle breeze, a glassy, heaving ebb, all sail set, the boat coaxingly pulling at her moorings, her port and starboard eyes bright and glistening, her punts (choked with artists' sketchings, gear, and a gun-case or two) safe at the davits; her deck rather littered with Gladstones and canvas bags; a murmuring sound from below, accompanied by a light clatter of coffee cups: on deck are only 'Billy' (our cook), 'Jack,' the 'boy' (general fag and washer-up), and the 'skipper' (one of the party selected by ballot for the cruise). The buoy is overboard, 'Jack' hauls the stays'l to windward, Billy lowers the chain silently through the hawse, the 'Iris' gently glides from among the surrounding boats, and is off for a week or two, heavily laden with an artistic, musical, medical, legal, and other 'crew' seeking relaxation, and a recovery from that dyspepsia which sooner or later overtakes every hard worker in this so-called temperate climate. [Illustration: Outward bound.] In this boat the passengers are converted into 'crew'; all must work, all obey the lawful commands of the skipper for the time being, though perchance he may not be the best sailor; and although some of the members are crack yachtsmen, all loyally avoid offering nautical advice _unasked_. Each is allotted some particular duty. One is medical officer, another is second in command, and the most onerous task is that accepted by the 'steward.' He is generously assisted by the advice of such of the crew as have had experience, and has 'Billy' and 'the boy' to carry out his behests; neither of the latter appearing much on deck, for the boat is worked in easy watches by the 'crew.' It would almost appear that some insidious apology should prelude a description of such a homely and slow craft as that selected for this occasion; but, as she fills a space in the different classes of yachts, and has proved an unspeakable comfort for the purposes intended, these, and the means adopted, may have an interest for many who enjoy quiet pursuits. The crew was a typical one. There were several artists, several ardent naturalists, and a photographer (a lawyer, who could prove to demonstration that a photographer _might_ also be an artist), and all practised music. The cruise was limited to Dublin Bay and a few harbours north and south. Some of the most beautiful spots, from an artist's point of view, cannot be reached in a deep boat, and so our draught was limited to less than 3 ft. 6 in., a condition complied with by the 'Iris.' She is 60 ft. long over all, with a beam of 12 ft. 6 in., diagonally built of mahogany, with a metal keel, as well as internal ballast cast to fit her. Her mid-transverse section shows a rather barrelled bottom, but her form forward and aft is such that she rolls very little; and, for this reason, and also from the fact that her saloon table is not far from the plane of her centre of rolling motion, the swinging apparatus of the dining-table has been removed, and it is now a satisfactory fixture. As it was intended to frequent shallow waters and dry harbours like Howth, Lambay, Rush, Skerries, Wicklow, &c., provision had to be made for taking the ground comfortably. It is not possible to do this with 'legs.' There is always a doubt on the mind of the responsible officer as to which side she is likely to cant, and whilst on one side of the boat there may be good hard sandy ground, on the other may be a patch of soft mud, into which the leg may gently subside if she unfortunately happen to cant in that direction. Again, the time when the tide will leave her may be some hours hence, and a weary waiting ensues, perhaps after a stiff passage, when all hands long to 'turn in.' Of course, when you have a paid crew, they do the waiting; but a paid crew in this cruise would in great measure defeat the main object of the expedition. [Illustration: Section of 'Iris.'] To obviate the necessity for 'legs,' a simple and efficient substitute is shown in the transverse section. Two deep bilge pieces 10 feet long are bolted to broad stringers above the timbers, and extend fore and aft some 5 feet longer than the bilge pieces, thus distributing the strain over a large portion of the boat. They are wide at the skin, and taper downwards. The bolts are inserted diagonally, and the bilge pieces are shod with keel bands; they are modelled on the outsides, but the inner faces are flat and _almost_ parallel, being further apart aft than forward by one inch, for reasons that need not here be mentioned. Such a contrivance helps to improve the leeway of so shallow a boat, although not proportionately to the area immersed. It is objectionable on grounds set forth by Kemp and others, as offering a larger surface for friction than is the coefficient for the lateral gain; but it is a great comfort when you have to take the ground and wish to have dinner with ease of mind (a necessity with a dyspeptic), and a joyful exchange for the sloppy, and lumbering, and inconvenient and unsteady 'legs.' [Illustration: Section of 'Iris,' showing permanent legs.] The boat is 'ketch' rigged--probably the safest of all rigs, and certainly the simplest and least laborious to be worked by few hands; indeed, this boat has been worked to windward in a narrow tideway, single-handed, over and over again. This comfortable rig was determined upon after many experiments. The boat was originally schooner-rigged, with sails by Lapthorn; but she would not wear, at least quickly enough for safety, in narrow waters and crooked channels, especially in strong winds. This difficulty in 'wearing' is common to many good-sized boats. Quite recently I saw a revenue cutter charging away towards a bank with several hands at the tiller, and the main sheet eased off without affecting her mad career until the officer scandalised her mainsail; then she slowly yielded the point, and just cleared the bank by tearing up the sand and mud, leaving a yellow track behind her. Again, during the recent racing season, the pilot-boat (about sixty tons) started from Kingstown Harbour for her cruising ground. The old pilot at the helm sucked his pipe with confident air as she slipped; you could almost imagine his saying, 'This old boat and I are old chums; I know her. See how, with one finger on the tiller, I make her gracefully fall off to avoid that group of yachts ahead!' Suddenly the smile disappears; the pipe is chucked from his mouth. She won't fall off! she is charging bang into the yachts! The old man's legs are toughened out, and both hands grasp the tiller, as a shout from the man forward, who is hauling the jib to windward, calls the attention of the other pilots aboard, and one who grasps the situation rushes to the peak-halliards and scandalises the mainsail; then she tears away showing her copper as she fills, while skippers around fire a volley of muttered blanks at the 'old tub' as she makes for the harbour's mouth. But with the ketch-rig the helmsman of the 'Iris,' by manipulating the mizzen-sheet, threads her in safety to or from the wind along a shallow tortuous gut left by the fallen tide. Remember she is 60 ft. by 12 ft. 6 in., and with _a draught of less than 3 ft. 6 in._ Her ability to take the ground upright is a source of gratification to the artistic members of her crew; neither flowing nor ebbing tide, nor a shift of wind, makes it necessary to alter the positions of the sketching-seats, easels are a convenience that may be comfortably indulged in, and then the operations of the steward are not disturbed. But there is another great advantage in being able to take the ground in this manner when you have to stop in harbours that are nearly half dry at low water--an advantage having a large element of safety, and best illustrated by a case in point, an incident in our recent cruise. We had spent the night on the beach at Ireland's Eye, an island north of Howth, rich in geological, archæological, and botanic interest. On one side a shingle and a silver strand, a ruined abbey, and a charming view. On the other, wild and romantic cliffs, thousands of sea birds, a smuggler's cave, a seal cave, and a very remarkable profile rock. Here in the summer you may see a Lord Justice picnicking with his family, a Bankruptcy Judge, a gallant and skilful yachtsman, prowling after rabbits, a Churchill gazing at profile rock and smoking like a furnace, an Academician describing the hermit's cell, a citizen from Dublin dining with his friends, an excursion of the Dublin Sketching Club working in platoons, and, should lovely harmony startle the night air, perhaps some members of an opera company have come down by the last train after the performance to breathe the fresh air and sleep aboard the 'Iris.' [Illustration: The Bailey, Dublin Bay.] Well, as I said, we spent the night at Ireland's Eye, and in the morning found the barometer dropping rapidly far away at the harbour on the mainland. The coastguards had hoisted the one point downwards, indicating a gale from the south'ard. We were in perfect shelter, but as we had arranged to help the Tennis Club Entertainment that afternoon by playing some stringed instruments, we hoisted sail and made for Howth Harbour, coming to anchor in nice time to escape the preliminary bursts of the truthfully predicted 'blow.' The wind blew off shore, and so there was no send or swell in the harbour. We were free to anchor in very shallow water, careless whether we were left high and dry or not, and herein lay our safety, not from wind nor wave, but from vessels rushing for shelter into the small and crowded portion of the harbour where the water is deep, and also from craft dragging. Last year, during a gale off shore, eleven boats of different sizes, one an iron steamer, dragged into a corner of the harbour and crunched one another into matchwood. There was no '_sea_,' only a disordered and irregular 'chop.' The 'Iris,' drawing only a few feet of water and anchored within an inch or two of the bottom, could not be approached by any dragging or sailing boat of greater draught; long before reaching her they would be fast aground. [Illustration: 'Graphic' artists at work during the gale of October 5, 1892.] In the evening, after our labours for our friends ashore had been satisfactorily completed, we pulled aboard fairly dry, and in a few moments were seated at dinner, the boat perfectly upright and immovable, with about 2 ft. 6 in. of water around us. The lamps gave a rich glow of colour and glitter to our table, all the more comfortable from the contrast with the sudden cold without and the howling and moaning of the gale. After coffee we lounged on deck, well wrapped up, to enjoy a cigar and observe the storm. The lighthouse lamps burned brilliantly, and the anchor lights of the craft in harbour flickered and struggled for a feeble existence, their movements showing that over there at any rate there was rolling and uneasiness. Here, our steadiness was enjoyable, as was also our dry deck, due to our bulwarks of over 2 ft. high. Suddenly above the breakwater appeared a black pyramid, growing bigger every moment; then another, then many. They were fishing-vessels beating for the harbour for shelter, but they slowly disappeared one by one; they had gone about on the other tack; we might shortly expect them in. Soon there struggled in the narrow mouth the shadow of a close-reefed trawler of sixty tons or so. Why does she stop? Is she on the rocks at the light? No, she has missed stays; there is not room to do more than drift astern, and she disappears in the darkness. And in less than half an hour she will try again, for the harbour has a difficult entrance. A few minutes afterwards there rushes in a more fortunate vessel; then comes another, and another--each in turn makes straight for us, but we smoke quietly; we know they cannot approach. Still they are near enough to enable us to hear, above the fighting winds, the shrill cries of the men to 'Let draw,' or 'Hold on, Pat,' the rattling of blocks, the vicious flap of the canvas and shock of the heavy boom as each vessel goes about, and soon the rattling of cables as anchors are dropped, followed by such silence as the gale permits, while the men seek some rest after a heavy battle with nature. In the meantime the occupants of the other boats at anchor have had serious moments; dangerously near came some of the fishing vessels, and even when anchors had been let go anxious eyes blinkingly peered against the salt, blinding wind to see if the trawlers' anchors held, and that the boats were not drifting down upon them with inevitable result. Skippers also watched their own holding gear with some concern; for if one of these crafts dragged, she would be broken up against the breakwater, and should she be fortunate enough to ground she would be down at the ebb, but, especially if she were a racer, she would not rise again with the next flow. Here we leave them and go below to our comparatively calm and safe berths, knowing that even should it calm down by morning we shall see tired and worn faces around us, and that we, thanks to our substitute for 'legs,' shall have slept in ease and peace, and awakened refreshed in body and in mind. In order to get headroom there is 'trunk' 'rise' on the deck, as shown on the cross-section drawing, 18 in. high (in one place higher) and some 40 ft. long, leaving a conveniently wide gangway on the deck at either side; this rise has a number of dead lights at the sides, as well as skylights above; and during its infancy the boat was severely criticised. She was called the 'Tramcar,' and had other more opprobrious compliments paid her. As to her speed, there were sundry allusions to crabs and their propensities for walking backwards. It was therefore excusable, taking into account the windage due to the superstructures and high bulwarks, and to the general form of the boat and also to the bilge pieces, if we had very humble notions as to the speed of the 'Iris'; and although we all believed in 'the craft you sail in,' it was with some amazement that we found her unexpectedly fast in reaching, and therefore fast with the wind aft. This particularly struck us one morning when we saw a fine racing-cruiser rounding the Bailey. The wind was fresh and free; someone said, 'Here comes Charlie. Watch how he will swoop past us in his triumph.' But Charlie didn't triumph, neither did he swoop; we watched carefully until we saw that _Charlie was going astern!_--a fact that surprised us as much as it did Charlie. [Illustration: Her Majesty's Mails.] Again, many said that a boat with such a high freeboard and so little draught would not claw off a lee-shore in a bad sea; but as she was designed for artist's work chiefly in local waters, where there is protection every four or five miles, it was not intended that she should be submitted to heavy weather. We always had a lurking suspicion that she would not do very well in a seaway, but here we were again agreeably surprised; for, seizing a favourable opportunity, we brought her round the nose of Howth (as nasty a spot as anyone could wish in dirty weather), and there we put her through her facings, with the result that we found her an able vessel, safe to stay even when much knocked about, and when we purposely allowed her to make a stern board, with the aid of the mizzen, we could put her head in which direction we chose. Several steamers passed us during the trials, and these were shipping tons of water, while we did not take a cupful. Around the boat, six inches below the covering board, is a very wide 'rubbing-piece,' a ribband of 'thumb' moulding, whose form will be understood by reference to the cross-section drawing. This projects some inches from the side of the boat, and the effect of this small bead in throwing off seas is most remarkable. Often have we watched green lumps of water lapping up her sides with a rush that threatened to bring them over the bulwarks in the next instant, especially at her bows, but on reaching this 'stroke' the whole mass seemed diverted outward, and to drop back into the sea. True it is that action and reaction are equal and opposite, and the momentum of the wave must have been communicated to the boat in some way (likely to be detrimental to her speed and affecting her leeway), but we were unable to realise practically any injurious effect to at all balance the pleasure of a dry boat. Such, indeed, is the general success of the boat as a quiet, safe cruiser, that it is intended to have a new one designed by some crack authority with better lines, built of steel, with the important existing features adhered to, but doubtless with much improvement in the speed. As to the rigging, the stays'l carries a boom and the sheet travels on a 'horse,' the jibsheets run aft, and the mizzen-sheet is made fast to a cleat on the under side of the mizzen-boom; thus the helmsman can put her about single-handed if he please. In smooth water he puts the helm down, and, when she fills on the other tack, shifts the jib. In a short sea, if she is likely to lose way in stays, he puts the helm down, slips a loop over it, then hauls on the mizzen-sheet till the sail is fore and aft, when she goes about with certainty. He then shifts jib; he does not take the sheet from the cleat, but simply hauls on the fall; consequently the sail does not require adjustment when the vessel fills. In smooth water, such as the Broads or Windermere, or the Liffey Estuary, no particular tactics are needed in going about, but in the frequently troubled water of Dublin Bay these matters are noteworthy when we remember that she is 60 feet long, has a beam of 12 ft. 6 in., and draws only 3 ft. 6 in. of water. [Illustration: Storm without, calm within.] [Illustration: Kingstown, Dublin Bay.] _Report of the Hon. Medical Officer_ In one of the steamers of which I had medical charge it was a common saying that all that was medicinally required by the crew and passengers was a weekly dose of 'one pint of sulphur wash and 2 oz. bilge nails,' and that teeth might be drawn by the 'key of the kelson.' No such drastic treatment should be required on a yachting cruise, but a few medicines and surgical appliances should always be on board, and the sanitary condition of the boat should be rigorously and minutely inspected, not only before starting, but daily during the cruise, be it long or short. To begin with, before stores or passengers come aboard I have the carpet or other covering taken up and some of the flooring lifted along the entire length of the boat, and I carefully see that no fragments of food, animal or vegetable, have accidentally got about the ballast, that no pieces of paper, however small, nor sawdust, nor shavings, nor 'matter out of its proper place' of any kind whatever, is left below the flooring. I personally see that the limbers are cleared, and that a copious flush of water redolent of calcium chloride or 'Sanitas' is poured in forward and pumped out of the well aft. Next, I inspect the sail lockers, and if there be any musty smell, I have the sails, &c., removed on deck and hung up to thoroughly dry; in the meantime the locker beams and ceiling are washed over with a solution of chloride of lime and thoroughly aired. The steward's store lockers and cooking utensils are carefully examined, a solution of potassic permanganate being freely used; the mattresses are turned over and searched for the slightest mouldiness, and, if any be detected, are sent ashore to be taken asunder and stoved; the lockers under the berths are aired, and the Indian matting with which the bunks are lined taken down and examined, and, should there be any mustiness, which will surely be the case if it has not been kept dry, I condemn it and get fresh--fortunately it is a cheap material. The w.c.'s are of the underline type and consequently require rigorous examination, as that kind is subject to leakage, and they should always be provided with simple means for tightening up the joints, and so devised that all the strains due to pumping, &c., are self-contained. There should also be an automatic supply of a strong solution of permanganate of potash every time the w.c. pump is used. Besides this, however, I always make the boy pour in a pint of strong permanganate solution night and morning, and with a good air-draught, secured by having the door made so that there are several inches above and below between it and its frame, I have never had the slightest reason to doubt the efficiency of the apparatus as a sanitary appliance. Earth-closets are a delusion; you cannot get earth, nor even sand, when on a cruise, and there are other serious objections. Carpets should be examined for mould in the interstices of the material, and should any be detected, however slight, the carpets should be taken ashore--they cannot be properly treated in a small boat. In short, fungoid life of any kind must be stamped out, and it is to be observed that yachts of every kind, and especially small ones, are peculiarly subject to this kind of parasite, for it frequently happens that boats are not inhabited, or only partially so, for some weeks, or even months. Without fires in the cabins, or other means adopted to withstand the moist air inseparable from the conditions, then it is that the microscopic fungoid plants flourish. Anon, fires are lighted, the air becomes dried, people move about, currents of air sweep through the cabins, and the spores, invisible to the naked eye, are wafted in myriads about the saloon, sleeping-cabins, and galley, until they come to rest on some moist place, there to propagate again if not checked. Fortunately, when the moist place happens to be the mucous membrane of our nostrils, the spores betray their presence, for the motion produced by the impact due to such shape and weight and composition produce the sensations which we term 'a musty smell.' I have frequently noticed objectionable odours of this class about many fine yachts, and most small ones, but they are never absent from short-voyage cross-Channel steamers; these almost invariably reek with them to such an extent that often strong, good sailors feel ill before the vessel leaves the wharf. With such precautions as I have outlined, almost any boat may be made 'sweet.' Accidents of a serious nature involving surgical aid seldom occur in yachts; and if the cruise be a short one, a couple of needles, a scalpel, a forceps for extracting splinters, a stronger one for fish-hooks, a thermometer, and a long strip, two inches wide, of india-rubber sticking-plaster rolled up in an air-tight tin-box, will enable one to meet any case likely to arise. And for medicine I carry a mild aperient, magnesia cit., in bottles with air-tight covers, a supply of compound zymine (a most valuable ferment), and Burroughs's pocket-case. Phosphates I administer by selecting the food of the person under treatment. And I see that there is an abundant supply of fruits on board. Often I have noticed individuals in a yachting party come aboard for a cruise of a few weeks, all life and gaiety, and next day be quite depressed by the reaction from the excitement and novelty of the change. Such a person requires a little immediate treatment, or several days may elapse before he or she will be fit to enjoy the pleasures of the situation. It is necessary that there should be agreeable amusements to occupy the minds of the party, when lamps are lighted and all assembled in the saloon; and the function of providing these in some measure falls within the doctor's duty. The food should be carefully considered by the medical officer. When a party of very young men embark on a yachting excursion they seldom pay much attention to the quality of this necessary fuel; quantity appears to be with them the important consideration. But when the party consists mainly of men who have already embarked upon the responsibilities of life, men whose brain power is severely taxed, the _cuisine_ must be such that, although they be not persons who 'live to eat,' they can regard the table as an additional attraction to the company surrounding it. One of the most important elements towards the smooth working of the whole party is the presence of a lady, wife or mother or daughter of a member; her advent has a humanizing influence on the male members, however diverging their temperaments may be. If she be an artist or a musician (every lady should be a musician in its best sense) and does not object to smoking--if she be an artist she _won't_--in a properly ventilated, not draughty, cabin, her presence will be still more appreciated; and whether she be ashore or afloat, the fact that a gentlewoman is a member of the party helps to give a peaceful restful glamour to the whole cruise. These remarks are intended to apply chiefly to small vessels. In large steamers, Transatlantic or others, the duties of the medical officer are rather directed to restoring people when they have become ill. On a yachting cruise his great aim should be to keep people well. _Notes by the Hon. Steward_ When I first accepted this post I felt rather inclined to resign at once, for when the party came on board I was saluted with what were intended to be facetious orders. It was nothing but, 'Steward! take care of this ammunition.' 'Steward! let me have some soap and hot water; get my bag down from deck and let me have a brandy and soda, and, look here! be quick about it, like a good fellow.' But having often benefited by the efforts of predecessors, I endured the good-natured badinage, which died off after the first day. My first duty was to see that the cooking appliances, cutlery, and table furniture were in good serviceable condition; and I found that 'Billy' had the entire service present on parade. The stove was a cast-iron one, a 'Fortress,' Smith & Wellstood, of Glasgow. It is a remarkable success. Though perhaps a little large for a small boat, as a great piece of the trunk deck was removable in fine weather, and the galley was otherwise well ventilated in cold, the heat was never objected to--at any rate 'Billy' never mentioned it. Catering for a cruise lasting a day or two, however large the party, does not call for any special remark, as it is easily done; but a cruise of more than four or five days in a yacht of limited accommodation involves some forethought as regards a _menu_ offering a sufficient and agreeable variety. If you can calculate on making harbour periodically, arrangements may be made to have provisions sent from town to the railway station, to be called for. But in that case you are tied to call, and this fixity of programme is objected to by 'Graphics.' It follows that the provisions for the whole cruise must be carried. Now, as regards meats, flies are great enemies to the satisfactory hanging of meat in a boat. It is surprising the number one comes across on a coasting trip. I have often met three or four bees or wasps far away from shore, and big bluebottles turn up in the galley, unexpected and unwelcome guests. One of these is sufficient to make several joints of meat very objectionable in forty-eight hours. A perfect corrective for this state of things is a CO_{2} box--that is, a box like a refrigerator, fairly air-tight, and with a communication from a small steel cylinder of compressed carbonic-acid gas; this gas is in a liquid state, and a little is allowed to expand into the box occasionally. So long as there is carbonic-acid gas in the box, the lamb, or mutton, or beef, or other food, will not be troubled with insect life, larvæ or otherwise. If it be desired to cool the contents of the box, a good gush of the liquid gas is admitted. As it expands into the gaseous state it absorbs heat, and a temperature of -20º C. has thus been produced. The carbonic acid used is a by-product, hitherto wasted, from the fermenting tuns of breweries. It is now collected and pumped into steel cylinders. I am informed that before long it will be sold for 1_d._ per pound liquid: at present the price is 3_d._ in Dublin. In practice we do not use so low a temperature as that above mentioned, which would blister some hands, and leaves a hoar frost over the contents of the box. We simply fill the box with gas at ordinary temperature, taking advantage only of its antiseptic properties. We have kept lobsters under a little pressure for six months. At the end of that time they had not parted with the delicate flavour of fresh lobster, and were totally unlike the tinned lobster one buys, which, with nearly all the tinned meats I know of, will keep you from starvation, and that is all that can be said in their behalf. The prolonged high temperature to which they must be subjected in order to kill the bacillic spores practically destroys the best qualities of the natural juices. Some of the tinned vegetables are good and nutritious. Apples, French peas, French beans, pineapples, sweet corn, potatoes, pears, peaches, and tomatoes, arranged in order of merit as I have found them, are invaluable in a boat; but before using them examine the tins inside, especially those containing acid fruits. If the tins display a beautiful crystalline pattern inside, the contents should be dropped into cold water and rinsed for a few minutes before using. In any case the peas and beans and apples should invariably be rinsed in an abundant supply of cold water, and the fluid contents of the tins thrown away. It often surprises me that the makers of tins for 'canning' purposes do not invariably use those that are enamelled or 'glazed' inside; then there would be no fear of metallic oxides. At present, for what reason I will not state positively, the soups sold in tins do not agree with people. The flavours and the different kinds certainly afford variety enough, and would be unspeakably convenient aboard; but any experimenter, who has not a stomach like an ostrich, will find that if he uses these for a few days he will be ill. I make the statement without qualification. You cannot make any kind of soup in an ordinary way that will keep in bottle. The 'extracts of meat' do not contain any nourishing property; in fact, if you take any two animals, human or otherwise, feed one on water only, and the other on 'extracts of meat' only, the latter will be _sure_ to die first (proven). As a consequence of all this we find it desirable to make our soups aboard, and for that purpose carry meats, &c., in the carbonic-acid box I have described. [Illustration: Ringsend, Dublin.] [Illustration: Monkstown, Dublin Bay.] But the 'extracts of meat' _are_ of great use in making rich and delicious gravies. They may not be very economical, but that cannot be perfectly studied in a boat, and it is possible to dress up the not too stewed contents of the stewpot, after the soup has been poured off, with a few capers, a little salt, a suspicion of pepper, and a thickened gravy made of 'extract of beef,' just thick enough to make a coating around each piece of meat--call it 'stewed beef,' or a more elaborate name if you like--and you will find that not only will none of it be left, but also no one will suspect it to be the remains of the soup at table a quarter of an hour before. The fish we have had meantime, it goes without saying, considering we are in Dublin Bay, is abundant and delicious. I do not know why Dublin Bay herrings should have such a delicate and inimitable flavour. The fish are much smaller than the Scotch herrings and are beautifully marked, and require only a drop or two of Harvey's sauce (Lazenby's) to bring out the proper flavour--they are of course grilled. [Illustration: Ireland's Eye.] With the small stores I have found it economical and convenient to set aside portions for each day. Thus, if the cruise is to be for ten days, I wrap up ten portions of cheese, for example, in air-tight paper, and there is not a moment's loss of time when cheese is required for dinner. Butter for each day is similarly kept in jars; that which is over after each day is not wasted. Bread is kept in glazed earthen crocks with covers; salt in glazed earthenware jars; tea and coffee in bottles with air-tight screw covers; everything that can be put into an air-tight case is so protected, and each case has a particular fitting in a particular locker, so that no time is lost looking for it, no room is wasted, and if the boat gives a lurch or two nothing falls about nor is spilled. In a coasting cruise you can always send a boat ashore for plenty of fresh vegetables; but, except fish, eggs, and crustacea, you cannot get any other good provisions at any provincial place of call. 'Billy,' our cook, had been to sea on a coaster, where he filled a similar berth. His ideas of the perfection of cooking took the direction of 'plum duff,' of course taking especial care that most of the plums were at one end, the end the skipper would be sure to select. We had no 'plum duff' in the 'Iris,' but Billy's training was of such use that little instruction was needed to enable him to make a very respectable orange pudding, and to deftly and lightly make a paste suitable as a cover for any baked dish. In utilising food that is always at hand in a cruising boat, as crabs, scollops, oysters, &c., few can excel a sailor cook after he has been carefully shown how to dress them; and to this end it is necessary that the hon. steward should be able to perform each operation himself. It is not sufficient to have a cookery book aboard; as a general rule some little petty detail is omitted, it may be a quantity, or a matter of _modus operandi_, which perplexes the operator at the critical moment and makes the dish a solemn doubt. On the other hand, if the hon. steward selects such recipes as he thinks will be useful from some good cookery books, and practically tests them ashore, he will be able to find out the weak points and amend them, and will have the gratification to know that the crew is not doing violence to itself by tasting his dishes in commiseration for his feelings. In small craft it too often, indeed nearly always, happens, that the feeding department is very crudely dealt with, and the material aliment itself is adequately described by the half-raw, half-boiled, stale, tough, naked generic term of 'grub.' 'WATER WAGS' AND 'MERMAIDS' OF DUBLIN BAY BY THOMAS B. MIDDLETON Kingstown is the headquarters of the Royal Alfred Yacht Club, the Royal Irish Yacht Club, the Royal St. George Yacht Club, and several minor sailing clubs, including the Water Wags. The pleasantest part of a coast to reside on is, perhaps, that which has a sandy beach shelving gently down into deep water. Along such a beach in fine weather boating, bathing, and fishing are easy and enjoyable occupations; the wavelets ripple, making soft music with the pebbles, and the little skiff lies half in the water waiting to be stepped into and pushed off. But such halcyon weather cannot always be counted on in this climate. The waves are not always ripples; they quickly turn first to breakers and then to a heavy surf, that surges up to the highest water mark if the weather becomes at all broken or the wind comes in from the sea, and consequently the boatman must be prepared to deal with such a change when it occurs, and overcome the many difficulties then presented. [Illustration: Mermaids of Dublin Bay Sailing Club. Water-Wag Dublin Bay. _All matches sailed under Rules of the WATER-WAG Club_] First, the boat cannot be left anchored in the open, as she will surely be lost or damaged in a gale. She must therefore be able 'to take the ground handsomely'; that is, she cannot have a deep keel, for her bottom must be broad and flat; and, secondly, she cannot have any weight of ballast in her, as it would fatally strain her when she stranded, and make her too heavy to draw out of the reach of the waves. Now, a boat with no keel and no ballast makes, as everyone knows, a bad sailor; in fact, she will only run dead before the wind like a duck's feather on the water: so a little keel of 3 in. or 4 in. is generally used, and the boat ballasted with sandbags filled on the beach, or stones, which are emptied or thrown overboard before landing again. This plan has the objections of being very laborious and making the boat very heavy to launch. If she ships two or three seas in the operation she becomes hopelessly submerged, and the advantages gained are very slight, as such a boat will scarcely sail closer to the wind than a broad reach--even then making considerable leeway and being very slow and uncertain in stays. It was to improve on this state of affairs on the beach of this description that is to be found at Shankill, in the county of Dublin, that the 'Water Wag' was evolved from a Norwegian _pram_, into which a boiler-plate was fitted for a centreboard as an experiment. This novel craft was called the 'Cemiostama.' She was built in the year 1878, and was a great success; she sailed like a witch, carried a large sail with ease without any ballast save the iron-plate, worked well to windward without making any leeway, spun round like a top when the tiller was put down, and when the boiler-plate was raised she ran in on the surf, floated in a few inches of water, and eventually sat on the strand on her flat bottom. The plate (which weighed nearly 1 cwt.) was then lifted out of her, and she became as light to haul up as an ordinary shore skiff. It was accordingly decided to build seven or eight centreboard double-ended 13-ft. punts with great beam (4 ft. 10 in.), full lines, and a flat floor. The 13 ft. was chosen as the best size that two persons could haul up without help, a larger boat being too heavy for two, and consequently liable to damage by being left in the surf while help was being obtained; and the round stern was to divide the surf when the forepart stranded, and prevent it jumping into the boat as it does in the case of a square stern. In order that these boats might have an occasional race between themselves, to preserve the type and to save the expense of outbuilding and the trouble of handicapping and time allowance, it was further arranged that all the boats should be built on the same lines, and the canvas limited to a cruising amount. This was accordingly done, and they proved themselves to be such good seaboats, and so generally useful for two or three amateurs to amuse themselves along the shore in, that 'The Water Wag Association' was started in 1887, to further develope and preserve the principles of the class. Though it was started by boys, several older Wags joined, and as the boat was never designed for speed, the racing was not originally intended to be hard-down serious sport, but more a sort of friendly sail round a course in boats all alike, and that consequently should be all together; but of course skill in working would bring one to the front and make her harder to catch. Hence the rollicking title 'Water Wag,' and the institution of a king and queen, bishops, knights, and rooks, to manage the affairs of the club, their chief duties being to get up as much fun and as many jolly water excursions as possible. The first two or three seasons saw this idea carried out with great success; but gradually the racing grew more keen and serious, until it eventually became the sole object for which the boats assembled, so much so that it is now nothing but racing from early in April till late in September. The Water Wags' own races are held round Kingstown Harbour (the head quarters having migrated there when the generation which formed the Shankill Corinthian Sailing Club grew up and disintegrated over the world); others are got up for them by the Dublin Bay Sailing Club in Scotchman's Bay, outside the harbour, and there are races at the local regattas at Kingstown, Dalkey Bray, Greystones, Wicklow, Clontarf, Howth, and Malahide; so that since the class was started they have had nearly 300 competitions. They have greatly increased in numbers, and have become quite a local type of small boats in Kingstown, as they work in and out through the yachts and shipping, and are very handy to take four or five persons in to listen to the bands from the water. They are not confined to Kingstown Harbour, however, as they have sent representatives to the River Plate, Hong Kong, the Persian Gulf, Australia, and many foreign ports. Their principle has been largely adopted in the B division of the Dublin Bay Sailing Club, which consists of 18-ft. boats, called 'Mermaids,' which are practically large Water Wags, being entirely open, with 6-feet beam, fitted with centreboard and carrying no ballast. These have a limited racing sail-area of 180 feet, but they are not further confined as to shape, and some have the rounded stern and some the square. They are very fast, lively boats, requiring a crew of three or four nimble hands, principally to be employed in shifting ballast, and they give a great deal of sport, as many as twelve or fourteen starting in a race every Saturday afternoon. The 'Water Wag' costs complete between 15_l._ and 20_l._, a silk racing lug from Lapthorn and Ratsey alone coming to 2_l._ 15_s._ McAllister, of Dumbarton, built most of them; but Atkinson, of Bullock, Co. Dublin, and Doyle, of Kingstown, have built many more. In handling, the skipper--especially if he is a tiro at the art--must be very careful, as 75 sq. ft. of canvas, and a 13-ft. mast in a 13-ft. boat, without ballast, require attention and caution if there are any puffs knocking round; so that the mainsheet must never be made fast, no matter how fine and calm the weather is; the halliards should also run very free, and the oars should always be carried, in case it becomes judicious to lower the sail in a squall. But a little practice will enable the skipper to sail his boat without danger during weather that any small open boat can be out in; and it is really marvellous what weather and seas the Water Wags have gone through. Sailing out of sight of help in any small open boat is to be deprecated, and no exception to this rule is to be made with Water Wags, as they unquestionably run a risk of filling in unskilful hands; but, in that event, the absence of ballast is an advantage, for they do not go to the bottom as a ballasted boat will, but will actually support their crew if no attempt is made to climb up on them. A lug of 60 sq. ft. is ample to begin with; and for most days when not racing, and for single-handed sailing, a reef should be taken in, or two kegs of water-ballast carried, unless on a very fine day. The following sailing regulations are carefully enforced during racing:-- Only the boats of members shall compete in the races, and as it is one of the fundamental principles of the Water Wags that the boats shall be similar in every respect save sail-plan, it shall be in the power of the officer of the day to disqualify any boat that, in his opinion, is trying to gain an unfair advantage by infringing the above principle. Each boat shall not carry more than three or less than two persons during a race, all of whom shall be amateurs, and shall be steered by either a member or a lady. And no money shall be awarded to a boat for a walk-over, but she may fly a flag therefor. Each boat shall carry on all proceedings of the Water Wags, all her platforms, floorings, thwarts, and stern sheets, also a pair of oars not less than 9 ft. long, with spurs or rowlocks for same; also, either one solid cork ring-shaped life-buoy, not less than 30 in. in external diameter, and capable of floating for three hours 21 lbs. of iron suspended therefrom, or two smaller ones of the same material and shape, which shall each float for the same time 14 lbs. of iron; or they may substitute a cork life-belt that will float 10 lbs. for three hours for each of the small life-buoys, providing each life-belt is worn the entire time the boat is afloat. Before taking a prize the owner of the boat shall declare to the party awarding it that the spirit of this rule has been carried out. And it shall also be the duty of every other competitor to protest against a boat without a life-buoy. The life-buoys shall rest unattached to anything in the boat, with nothing over or resting on them, so that they will immediately float out in the event of a capsize. All persons on board who cannot swim 100 yards are requested to _wear_ life-jackets. The following are the limitations of a 'Water Wag' 13-footer: Length over all, 13 ft.; beam, 4 ft. 10 in.; depth and lines, that of model A. Centreboard to be of iron and pivoted at forward end of casing. Length shall not exceed 4 ft. When hauled up flush with top of casing, no portion shall project below keel. Immersed surface below keel shall not exceed 2-1/2 sq. ft. Thickness at any point shall not exceed 3/8 of an inch. Keel outside garboard strake, inclusive of thickness of keelband, if any, shall not exceed in depth 1-1/2 in. Keelband of iron, brass, or copper, not to exceed in thickness 1/4 in. Stem and stern post.--Moulded depth of, to be clear of hood by not less than 2 in. Kedge not to exceed 15 lbs. No metal cable allowed. No ballast of any description save water. Mast not to exceed over all 13 ft., measured from top of keel to truck, and not to be stepped above keel more than 3 in. Fore and aft sails not to exceed 75 sq. ft. in area. Spinnaker not to exceed 60 sq. ft. in area, and is only to be used before the wind, and in no case as a jib. A full-sized tracing of the builder's moulds can be obtained by sending 2_s._ to the Society for Employment of Women 21 Kildare Street, Dublin. [Illustration: 'King's Fisher,' 1776.] [Illustration: Commodore Thomas Taylor, of the Cumberland Fleet, 1780.] CHAPTER IV THE THAMES CLUBS AND WINDERMERE THE ROYAL THAMES YACHT CLUB BY EDWARD WALTER CASTLE AND ROBERT CASTLE In the year 1775 was founded the 'Cumberland Fleet,' and as the Royal Thames Yacht Club is its lineal descendant, the latter may with all justice claim the title of the 'Mother of Yacht-racing,' at least in Great Britain. The year 1770 was a most important epoch in Thames yachting, and we think the lines and drawing of our first cup-winning yacht should be given here. The 'King's Fisher,' as the sketch shows, was clinker built. Her owner, Commodore Thomas Taylor of the Cumberland Fleet, was so thoroughly the practical founder of yacht racing on the Thames that his statue should be placed on the Thames Embankment--with a bronze plaque of his yacht and the cups he won--and if times are too bad to go that length, a medallion portrait plaque could go on the Temple Embankment Arch, for the 'King's Fisher' was built close by. Her dimensions, as shown in her lines, were, length 20 ft., beam 7 ft. The Cumberland Fleet, or, as it is often called, the Cumberland Sailing Society, was founded under the following circumstances. [Illustration: The 'King's Fisher,' 1776, midship section.] In the year of grace 1775 the first rowing regatta that was ever held in England took place upon the Thames--on June 23. Previously to this, however, a meeting of 'several very respectable gentlemen, proprietors of sailing vessels and pleasure boats on the river,'[4] held their annual meeting at Battersea, and resolved that on the regatta day they would draw up in a line opposite Ranelagh Gardens, so as not to be in the way of the competing rowing boats. On July 6 of the same year an advertisement appears in the 'Advertiser,' that his Royal Highness Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland (a brother of George III., and an admiral in the British Navy) was about to give a silver cup[5] to be sailed for on July 11. The advertisement is as follows:-- A Silver Cup, the gift of His Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland, is to be sailed for on Tuesday, the 11th instant, from Westminster Bridge to Putney Bridge and back, by Pleasure Sailing Boats, from two to five tons burthen, and constantly lying above London Bridge. Any gentleman inclined to enter his Boat may be informed of particulars by applying to Mr. Roberts, Boat-builder, Lambeth, any time before Saturday Noon next. [Footnote 4: _Public Advertiser_, June 1, 1775.] [Footnote 5: The cup of 1775 was destroyed in a fire. _Morning Herald_, June 23, 1781.] [Illustration: Lines of the 'King's Fisher,' of the Cumberland Fleet, 1776. Commodore Thomas Taylor's yacht. Winner of Silver Cup, 1776.] On account of the weather, however, the race was postponed until July 13, when it came off with great success, and the 'Aurora,' owned by a Mr. Parkes, described as 'late of Ludgate Hill,' won the cup. The second boat in was named the 'Fly,' but who owned her the newspapers of the day forgot to mention. From 'the Morning Post'[6] we get the information that only those boats 'which were never let out to hire' would be allowed to enter, and also that 'the Gentlemen, about 18 or 20 in number, who sail for the prize have come to a resolution to be dressed in aquatic uniforms.' This seems to prove that the club had already been formed before the match, and was probably an outcome of the club at Battersea mentioned above. We also find from the old newspapers that the owners (who, by the way, were always styled 'captain') had to steer their respective vessels, and in the case of this first match were allowed two assistants; so it would seem that what nowadays are called 'Corinthian rules' were in the early period of yacht-racing a _sine quâ non_. [Footnote 6: _Morning Post_, July 10, 1775.] [Illustration: Button, 1776.] There were very solemn ceremonies attending all these early races. The Duke embarked on board his state barge from one of the stairs, and the royal standard was immediately hoisted at the bow. Another barge was in company with a band of music, and they then proceeded to the place of starting. The racing boats were anchored in line, with their sails furled; their places having beforehand been determined by lot. Each vessel, when racing, carried at her gaff a white flag with a red St. George's Cross upon it, and with one, two, three, or more blue balls, according to her position at starting. The captains were stationed in wherries, and on the arrival of the Duke's barge were by signal ordered on board their respective vessels. Then, on the firing of a gun, the race was started. Time allowance was an unknown quantity in those primitive days, and the boat which succeeded in passing the winning-post first claimed the cup. The victorious captain was then taken on board the commodore's barge, and with great ceremony introduced to his Royal Highness. In the meantime the Duke's butler had filled the cup with claret and handed it to his Royal Highness, who thereupon drank the health of the winner, and then presented him with the cup. The captain then drank to the Duke and Duchess, with three cheers; the whole ceremony having been performed amidst the strains of martial music, salvos of artillery, and the huzzas of the crowd upon the river and its banks. The fleet then proceeded up the stream to Smith's Tea Gardens, which lay where the gasworks now are, on the Surrey side of Vauxhall Bridge, and dined together. The Duke himself was very often present at these festive gatherings, and later on in the evening they all visited Vauxhall Gardens and made a night of it. The first commodore of the club was a Mr. Smith, who, we believe, was the proprietor of Smith's Tea Gardens, and he probably held the office until 1779. That year the commodore's broad pennant was changed from red to blue, and the club dined at the Royal Oak, Vauxhall, which seems to show a change of officers. Anyhow, the following year, 1780, Mr. Thomas Taylor was commodore, as is shown by the cup he won,[7] and he held that office until the year 1816, when he gave up yachting. The Cumberland Fleet had the white ensign, but without the St. George's Cross in the fly, and their burgee was a white one, with an equal armed red cross on it; i.e. the cross did not come out to the point of the flag. At the Royal Thames Club House they have several relics of the ancient fleet; there is the chairman's ivory gavel with the inscription 'Cumberland Fleet,' which is still used at every annual meeting; there are also (besides some curious prints and pictures) a cap of one of the rowers of the commodore's barge, and a club button, though it is not known whether it belonged to one of the rowers or to a member of the club. The Cumberland course originally was, as we have already shown, from Westminster Bridge to Putney and back, but in 1776 it was altered to Blackfriars Bridge, Putney, and back. Later on, the winning-post was at Smith's Tea Gardens, by that time called Cumberland Gardens. [Footnote 7: This cup is in the possession of the Taylor family, as are those won in 1776 and 1782.] The fleet evidently used to sail together and manoeuvre as well as race, for in 1776, in honour of His Majesty's birthday, 'they went up the river with colours flying and music playing'; and in 1793 a set of signals were printed (a copy of which may be seen framed at the Royal Thames Club House) whereby the commodore could manoeuvre the sailing boats like a fleet of men-o' war; indeed there is a print extant, dated 1778, wherein the fleet are being so manoeuvred off Sheerness. [Illustration: First 'Cumberland,' 1780, midship section.] The first private match, under the auspices of the club, seems to have come off, between two of the sailing boats, on April 20, 1776, but no mention is made of their names. Some of the expressions used in the newspapers about the different matches are very curious; in one paper it is called 'Fluviatic and Fresh Water Frolics,' and in another 'Thamesian Pleasantry,' and again, 'Water-racing Galloways,' but the best of the lot is in the 'Morning Post'[8] of 1782, where the race is described as 'a Fluviatic Cavalcade.' [Footnote 8: _Morning Post_, July 26, 1782.] [Illustration: Lines of Commodore Taylor's yacht, first 'Cumberland,' of Cumberland Fleet (Thames), 1780. Winner of Gold Cup, 1780.] The yachts belonging to the Cumberland Fleet did not confine themselves to river sailing, for in one of the papers of 1777 it is stated that the 'Hawke' had been cruising about the Channel, and had been chased into Calais by an American privateer. The Duke of Cumberland gave a silver cup each year, of the value of twenty guineas; but in 1781, when the seventh became due, a silver-gilt cup of the value of fifty guineas was presented to the club by His Royal Highness. This was to be sailed for by the boats that had won the former prizes, and the advertisement goes on to say, 'The members of the Society do hereby, with the permission of His Royal Highness, challenge and invite all gentlemen, proprietors of pleasure sailing boats, within the British dominions, to join with them in the contention.'[9] The first attempt at this race on June 25 failed for want of wind, and the match had to be re-sailed on July 9, when the cup was won by the 'Cumberland,' belonging to Commodore Taylor. This race, the first open match ever sailed, seems to have caused a good deal of excitement, and the river and its banks were densely crowded. The papers of the day speak of the many thousands present, of all sorts, 'from the peerless "Perdita" to the Princess "Ran."'[10] [Footnote 9: _Morning Chronicle_, May 5, 1781.] [Footnote 10: _Morning Herald_, June 27, 1781.] For some unexplained reason, 1782 was the last year that the Duke gave a cup to the 'Fleet.'[11] He certainly remained its patron up to his death in 1790, but he ceased to take any personal interest in the affairs of the club. This cup was won by the 'Caroline,'[12] belonging to Captain Coffin, and seems to have had a curious history, as in 1886 it was discovered in a pawnshop at San Francisco, and, it is said, was bought and raced for by some yacht club in America. On August 10, 1782, the first below-bridge match of the Cumberland Fleet took place. It was between the 'Caroline,' Captain Coffin, and the 'Eagle,' Captain Grubb, for a wager of 40_l._: the course being from Cuckolds Point to the Lower Hope, and back again. The 'Caroline' won easily. [Footnote 11: There is a print of the start for the 1782 match at the R.T.Y.C.] [Footnote 12: _Times_, August 9, 1886.] [Illustration: Lines of Commodore Taylor's yacht, second 'Cumberland,' launched February 14, 1790.] The years 1783 to 1785 have no matches recorded against the club. On August 21, 1784, the commodore's boat the 'Cumberland' went badly ashore on the rocks off Margate.[13] She must, however, have been afterwards saved, as she was commodore's boat at the match of 1786. A new era opened to the 'Cumberland Fleet' in the year 1786.[14] Jonathan Tyars became proprietor of Vauxhall Gardens, and to celebrate the jubilee of the Gardens (which had been open just fifty years), and also the new management, he gave an annual silver cup and cover, to be sailed for by the Cumberland Fleet, and a wherry to be rowed for by the watermen on the Thames. [Footnote 13: _Public Advertiser_, August 25, 1784.] [Footnote 14: _Morning Post_, July 5, 1786.] [Illustration: Yacht of Cumberland Fleet, 1781.] The one thing curious about this match is that the 'Prince of Wales' sailing boat was advertised for sale, and it goes on to say, 'which no doubt will have the best chance to win the Jubilee Silver Cup which will be sailed for on the 17th inst.' She won that cup! The proprietors of Vauxhall Gardens continued giving an annual cup to the club until the year 1810, when the last prize offered by them was sailed for on August 6, and won by the 'St. George,' 7 tons, Captain James Gunston. The ceremonies attached to the giving of the Vauxhall Cup differed but slightly from those attending the Duke of Cumberland's prize. The race started, as before, from Blackfriars Bridge and sailed round a boat stationed near Putney Bridge and back past a boat moored off Vauxhall Stairs, next door to Cumberland Gardens. The gardens in the evening were magnificently illuminated; a wonderful transparency of the sailing match was on show, and the former prize cups won by the club were arranged on pedestals in front of it. There are many incidents connected with the Cumberland Fleet during all these years. The 'Morning Chronicle'[15] says: 'There was an attempt of foul play against the "Prince of Wales," the winning vessel of 1786, by other boats getting in her way, but she got all clear by a liberal use of handspikes.' In 1787 the match on July 19 was ordered by the club to be re-sailed August 3, on account of some mistakes in the sailing directions made by the competing yachts; this was eventually won by the 'Nancy,' Captain Dore, but the 'Blue Dragon' was disqualified for booming out her jib. [Footnote 15: _Morning Chronicle_, July 19, 1786.] There must have been some form of Admiralty warrant extant in those days, as we find that the members of the club are requested (in an advertisement) to meet at the Crown and Anchor Tavern in the Strand, and it goes on to say,[16] 'The gentlemen who enter their boats are to attend at the same time to draw lots for situation at starting; and are hereby informed that they are expected either to produce their licence from the Admiralty, or other proofs of being owners of the vessels they intend to sail.' [Footnote 16: _Public Advertiser_, June 7, 1788.] In 1791,[17] Commodore Taylor, with a party of friends, started in the 'Cumberland' for Bordeaux, but we have found no reference to his having arrived there. This year there was a dreadful accident at the race for the Vauxhall Cup, by the bursting of a cannon at Cumberland Gardens, at the moment that the 'Mercury,' Captain Astley, was winning; by this two persons lost their lives. This is also the first year in which a second prize was given, viz. a silver goblet. The year 1793 was kept as a septennial one, and a handsome silver-gilt cup was presented to be raced for; the club thereupon challenged the world. [Footnote 17: _Star_, June 13, 1791.] [Illustration: Circular of Cumberland Fleet, 1775.] On July 27, 1793, the 'Cumberland,' Commodore Taylor, and the 'Eclipse,' Captain Astley, had a match for a turtle, which the commodore won, and the members of the Club had a turtle feast on the strength of it. In 1794 the proprietors of Vauxhall put a wonderful car upon the river, on the match day. It was drawn by tritons and was moved by invisible oars. It contained, besides bands of music, Father Thames attended by his river gods; and for several years this appeared, but with different devices. A curious light is let in by the newspapers of 1795[18] on the way they managed matters when racing. The 'Mercury,' which was the leading boat, somehow got foul of the 'Vixen'; whereupon the captain of the 'Vixen' cut away the rigging of the 'Mercury' with a cutlass and fairly well dismantled her, another boat, the 'Mermaid,' winning the cup. We have failed entirely to find any sort of protest against such high-handed proceedings. There was another cup presented to the Club besides the Vauxhall one in 1796; it was given by the proprietor of Cumberland Gardens. A match for a wager of forty guineas took place on August 11, 1797,[19] between the 'Mercury' and the 'Providence,' from the Gun Wharf at Blackwall round the Nore Light and back; this was won easily by the 'Mercury,' which did the distance in 12 hrs. 5 mins., beating the 'Providence' by twenty miles. [Footnote 18: _Times_, July 23, 1795.] [Footnote 19: _Star_, August 15, 1797.] The year 1800 was again kept as a septennial one, or, as the papers prefer to call it, a 'Jubilee,' and there is in existence a print of the 'Cumberland,' Captain Byrne, winning the cup. Mr. E. Smith, owner of the 'Atalanta,' which won the Vauxhall Cup in 1801, presented the same year a cup to be raced for, and it was won by the 'Mercury,' Captain Astley. Another septennial (or Jubilee) cup was given by the proprietors of Vauxhall Gardens in 1807, and this fell to the 'Bellissima,' owned by Captain Farebrother. This year the contractors for the State Lottery gave a cup to be raced for on the Thames, and all the boats entered for it belonged to the Cumberland Fleet. A new public Garden was started in 1809, called the Minor Vauxhall, and Mr. Sheppard, its proprietor, gave a silver cup to be sailed for on the river. The first two attempts failed to come off, but at the third and final one the 'St. George,' Captain Gunston, won the prize. The last cup given by the proprietors of Vauxhall Gardens, in 1810, was won by the 'St. George,' and the same year Mr. Sheppard (who had changed the name of his Gardens to 'The New Ranelagh') again gave a cup, which was won by the 'Sally,' belonging to Captain Hammond. The proprietor of the New Ranelagh Gardens also gave cups in the years 1811 and 1812, and although the club is not mentioned in connection with them, none but vessels belonging to the Cumberland Fleet were entered. On July 16, 1812, the club gave two cups, by subscription, to be raced for from Blackwall to Gravesend and back, which were won respectively by the 'Mercury' and the 'Vixen.' As the years roll on the newspapers get rather confused about the sailing matches, and the name of the old club very rarely occurs, although we have seen an account book where the subscription of one guinea is mentioned as having been paid to the secretary of the Cumberland Fleet, in the year 1818. The years 1814, 1821, and 1822 have no sailing matches recorded against them, but these, with 1783 to 1785, are the only ones in which we have failed to find a race of some sort or other. After Commodore Taylor's retirement it is believed that Mr. Edward Nettlefold was elected in his place, but there is, great confusion on the subject, for in 1817 he is called commodore of the 'London Yacht Club,' which in another number of the same paper is called the 'New Cumberland Fleet.' Most probably there had been some dissensions among the members of the club, but whatever had happened, there is no getting over the fact that in the year 1823 the Cumberland Fleet had a below-bridge race, and that it was under the direction of Commodore Edward Nettlefold. The year 1823 is a most important one in the history of the club. On July 17 there was a race for a silver cup in honour of the King's coronation,[20] and the newspapers[21] go on to say:-- The 'Favourite' steam packet, soon after ten o'clock, came down from the Tower. This boat was elegantly decorated, and was crowded with ladies. The gentlemen of the 'Old Cumberland Fleet' were on board, under the direction of their respected Commodore, Edward Nettlefold, Esquire, under whose direction the match took place. [Footnote 20: George IV.] [Footnote 21: _Morning Advertiser_, July 18, 1823; _Sporting Magazine_, July, 1823; _Morning Chronicle_, July 19, 1823; _Globe_, July 18, 1823; _Public Ledger_, July 19, 1823.] The cup was won by the 'Venus,' belonging to Captain George Keen. In the 'Public Ledger' of July 17, 1823, is the following advertisement:-- _HIS MAJESTY'S CORONATION_ The Subscribers and Members of the Old Cumberland Fleet will dine together at the Ship Tavern, Water Lane, Tower Street, this day at four o'clock precisely to celebrate the coronation of His Most Gracious Majesty King George IV.; when the superb silver cup, sailed for in honour of that event, on Thursday last, from Blackwall to Coal House Point, below Gravesend and back, by gentlemen's pleasure vessels, will be presented to Captain George Keen, the winner of the prize; and to arrange the articles for the sailing match to take place on Wednesday afternoon, the 30th instant, and to start at three o'clock from Blackfriars Bridge, and sail to Putney and back to Cumberland Gardens, under the especial patronage of the proprietors of the Royal Gardens, Vauxhall.' At this dinner the club must have decided to change their name, as appears from the following extract from a Vauxhall programme of July 30, 1823, announcing the match 'given by His Majesty's Coronation Sailing Society, entered into for celebrating annually the Coronation, and formed by new subscribers and members of the old Cumberland Fleet'; the last three words being printed right across the page in large type. They also changed their flag, adopting a white one with a crown in the upper corner next the staff, with the letters 'G.R. IV.' underneath, and the words 'Coronation Fleet' in the fly. This flag had a crimson border all round, with lettering of the same colour. [Illustration: Officers' badge, R.T.Y.C.] This match of July 30, 1823, is a very important one, as, owing to a dispute over the prize, the present Royal Thames Yacht Club was formed. The facts are as follows:--In the race the 'St. George,' Captain Brocklebank, came in first, and the 'Spitfire,' Captain Bettsworth, was the second boat. Captain Bettsworth, however, protested against the 'St. George' being given the prize, for the following reasons:--'That the "St. George" during the match was steered by two persons, which was contrary to the sailing articles signed by all the competitors previously to starting. The articles alluded to state that "the vessels must be sailed by their respective owners, or by any person they may think proper to appoint." The appellant states the breach of articles to have been committed between Blackfriars and Waterloo Bridges.'[22] On August 6 the Club met to consider the question at the Ship Tavern, Water Lane; and after Capt. Bettsworth had produced witnesses and the matter had been argued out, it was determined by ballot, and by a majority of one, that the race should be re-sailed on Monday, August 11. On August 7, however, a protest was sent to the commodore, signed by seven members of the club (none of whom, by the way, had a boat in the match), asking him to call another meeting of the society, to either confirm or rescind the vote on August 6, and mentioning the fact that Captain Brocklebank had not been present at the ballot. On August 8 another meeting was held, at the Ship Tavern, of the captains and owners of the pleasure boats that had been in the race of July 30; they resolved to send in a protest to Commodore Nettlefold, in which they stated 'that if such resolution be rescinded, we have unanimously determined never to enter any of our boats for any cup to be given on any future occasion by the "Coronation" Fleet,' as they considered the merits of the question had been fully and fairly discussed. This protest was signed by eight of the captains who sailed in the match. On August 9 a further meeting of the club was held, and the resolution of the 6th instant rescinded, in spite of the protest, the cup being handed over to Captain Brocklebank as the victor. On this decision the captains held another conference (probably on the evening of August 9), decided to form a new club, and to call a special meeting on the question. On August 14, 1823, at the White Horse Tavern, Friday Street, it was decided to form such new club, and to call it the 'Thames Yacht Club.' Most of the old members of the 'Cumberland' Fleet are supposed to have joined it. The 'Coronation' Fleet went on with varying fortunes until the year 1827, when it seems to have fallen into abeyance; but it was revived again in 1830 with a great flourish of trumpets, only to be absolutely dissolved on January 3, 1831, at a meeting of the club, held at the British Coffee House, Charing Cross; and that very same year their commodore, Lord Henry Cholmondeley, was racing as an ordinary member of the Thames Yacht Club. So that those members of the 'Coronation' Fleet who did not join in 1823 were finally absorbed in the Thames Yacht Club in 1831. Since that period the life of the club has flowed along pretty evenly, with a few ups and downs, like the noble river from which it takes its name. The first match of the Thames Yacht Club was held on September 9, 1823, for a cup valued at 25 guineas, when ten boats entered. They sailed the old course from Blackfriars Bridge, and finished at Cumberland Gardens; but in this case, for want of wind, the match had to be re-sailed on the 10th, when the cup was won by the 'Spitfire,' Mr. T. Bettsworth. The following year they had an above- and a below-bridge match, and this was regularly continued until 1840, after which the above-bridge match was given up. The 'Don Giovanni,' owned by Mr. J. M. Davey, won cups in 1824 and 1826; she was considered the crack boat of her day, and there is a song in existence which ends as follows:-- Now toast the Don Giovanni's crew, who bear the prize away, And may they always sail as well as they have sail'd to-day! Then fill each glass with sparkling wine, and bumpers let them be, And drink to Captain Davey's health--his health with three times three: For the cup is won, the match is done, And settl'd is the rub; Let mirth abound, and glee go round. In this--the Thames Yacht Club. [Footnote 22: _Globe_, August 5, 1823.] In 1827 a 50-guinea cup was given to be raced for, from Blackwall to Gravesend and back, to celebrate the event of His Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence becoming patron of the Thames Yacht Club. This was won by the 'Lady Louisa,' belonging to Mr. T. Smith. The following year there was a split off from the club, caused by their refusal to give prizes for very small boats, so the seceders formed the Clarence Yacht Club, which existed for several years. On August 28, 1830, two cups were given to be raced for below bridge, in honour of the Duke of Clarence coming to the throne as William IV. The yachts sailed in two classes, the first of which was won by the 'Matchless,' 19 tons, Mr. J. Hyatt; and the second by the 'Brilliant,' 8 tons, Mr. W. Bucknall. On October 7 of the same year, at a meeting of the club, it was resolved 'that the uniform button should be altered from T.Y.C. to R.T.Y.C.'; in other words, they had become the 'Royal Thames Yacht Club.' This year the fleet of the club consisted of forty-three vessels. [Illustration: Lord Alfred Paget's 'Mystery' passing 'Blue Belle' May 23, 1843.] The burgee of the Thames Yacht Club was probably a red one, with the letters T.Y.C., as we find that on February 3, 1831, a red burgee was agreed to having the letters R.T.Y.C. under a crown. There were two cups given by the club, on September 15, 1831, to celebrate the coronation of their Majesties William IV. and his Queen. The first was won by the 'Lady Louisa,' and the second by the 'Water Witch.' In December 1834 a white burgee was adopted with a crown and the letters R.T.Y.C. in red; and on February 19, 1835, an Admiralty warrant was granted to the club authorising their vessels to carry a white ensign without a red cross, but with the union-jack in the upper corner, and bearing in the fly a crown over the letters R.T.Y.C. in red. William IV. died on June 20, 1837, and on July 27 of the same year Her Majesty Queen Victoria became patroness of the club. The following year special prizes were given in honour of the Queen's coronation, and there is in possession of the club a portrait of Commodore Harrison holding the cup in his hand. In 1840 a challenge cup of the value of 100 guineas was given, to be won twice consecutively by the same yacht, without reference to ownership. It was eventually secured by the 'Secret,' Mr. J. W. Smith, on June 8, 1847. The Admiralty took away the white ensign from the Royal Thames Yacht Club in 1842 (as well as from several other clubs that had the right of flying it), and only allowed the Royal Yacht Squadron to continue its use. In July of the same year, however, the Admiralty granted to the Royal Thames a blue ensign with a crown in the fly. On June 30, 1845, a cup of the value of 60_l._ was presented by Earl Fitzhardinge, and the yachts had to be manned, steered, and handled by members of the club only. The 'Belvidere,' 25 tons; the 'Prima Donna,' 25 tons; the 'Phantom,' 20 tons; and the 'Widgeon,' 24 tons, were entered, the cup being won by the 'Belvidere,' belonging to Vice-Commodore Lord Alfred Paget. In the year 1848 the Admiralty granted to the club a further warrant, dated July 24, giving them the plain 'blue ensign of Her Majesty's Fleet,' and of this they still enjoy the use. Time allowance first appears in the matches of the Royal Thames on June 29, 1849, in a race from Erith to the Nore and back, when half a minute per ton for difference of tonnage was allowed. July 8, 1851, the Queen for the first time gave a cup to be raced for by the club, the course being from Erith, round the Nore and back; it was won by the 'Cygnet,' 35 tons, owned by Mr. H. Lambton, M.P. The club established an annual schooner match, which was held regularly for several years, the first having been on June 1, 1853. In 1855 the club had 170 yachts in its fleet, but in 1861 they had reached to 241 vessels; at the present date they are some 350 strong. In 1862 the 'Marina,' on rounding the Nore lightship, ran into the club steamer, the 'Prince of Wales,' damaging herself considerably, and had to be towed back. As she was leading vessel at the time, and it was the fault of the steamer getting in the way, she received a special prize. On May 21, 1866, the first Nore to Dover race of the club took place, although they had one or two matches to Harwich and the Isle of Wight before that date. At the beginning of 1868 there was another split in the Royal Thames, and those who left established the 'New Thames Yacht Club,' which is still in existence. The same year the club was again honoured by the presentation of a Queen's Cup, which was raced for from Gravesend to the Mouse and back. In 1874 His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales became commodore, and for the first time in the history of the club a rear-commodore was elected, Mr. Thomas Brassey. Queen's Cups have also been given to the club in 1874, 1880, and 1885; but in the year 1887, on the occasion of Her Majesty's Jubilee, the club, to mark that event, gave a special prize of 1,000 guineas in an ocean match round Great Britain, the winning-post being at Dover. This was won by the 'Genesta,' belonging to Sir Richard Sutton, Bart. [Illustration: Start of 25-tonners, Royal Thames Yacht Club, from Greenwich, 1848.] [Illustration: 'Phantom,' 25 tons, R.T.Y.C., 1853.] [Illustration: 'Cygnet,' 35 tons, built by Wanhill, 1846. Winner of Queen's Cup, R.Y.S., 1849; of Queen's Cup, R.T.Y.C., 1851.] Such, in bare outline, is a rough history of the oldest yacht racing club in existence. It is epitomised from a larger work on the same subject, which has been our labour of love for some years, and we hope that the book will be published to the world at some future time. ROYAL CORINTHIAN YACHT CLUB, ERITH BY R. T. PRITCHETT Perhaps one of the most sporting clubs on the Thames or elsewhere is the Royal Corinthian Yacht Club, which has its headquarters at Erith. This, the original Corinthian Club, was formed in May 1872; but several other clubs have since been started at various ports, and have copied the title with the affix of the place to which they belong. During the first year some 200 members were enrolled, but the number rapidly increased, and the club has now close upon 500 members, and possesses a valuable freehold club-house standing in an acre of ground on the banks of the Thames at Erith. The house includes a large club-room, nearly 70 feet long, a committee room, and a bunk-room for the use of members wishing to sleep there. Underneath are extensive stores, with twenty large sail lockers, each capable of holding the gear of a 20-tonner. These are let to members at 30s. per annum. There is room in the grounds for any number of the smaller fry which are not too heavy to be hauled over the wall, and they have a good snug berth here for the winter. The classification of the yachts for racing purposes does not extend to anything exceeding 20-rating, and for this size of vessel only one paid hand is allowed. The remainder of the crew, including the helmsman, must be members of the club. In the first year or so of the club's existence the racing was mostly confined to the smaller classes, and the 5-ton 'Arrow,' at that time head of her class, was a frequent competitor. About this period the 'Adèle' and the 'Ada' were in the Thames. These gave way in turn to the 'Virago,' 6 tons, 'May,' 6 tons, and the 'Alouette' and 'Freda,' each 5 tons. The 10-ton 'Zephyr' then came up into the river, and had some hard tussles to save her time from the smaller vessels; and Major Lenon's 'L'Erie,' 10 tons, also competed occasionally with success. In the larger class 'Dudu,' 'Torch,' 'Ildegonda,' 'Surge,' 'Aveyron,' 'Sweetheart,' 'Dione,' and 'Nadejda,' gave some good racing, and one memorable day, when all the above but 'Ildegonda' and 'Torch' sailed a race in a gale of wind, in company with the yawl 'Dryad,' nearly every yacht in the race had some mishap to gear, 'Dryad' and 'Dione' being dismasted. From 1875 to 1880 the racing was kept alive by the 10-ton class, the meeting of the 'Lily,' 'Florence,' 'Merle,' 'Mildred,' 'Chip,' 'Preciosa,' 'Juliet,' 'Elaine,' and 'Robinson' being looked forward to with eagerness by the amateur crews. 'Florence' was the pick of this bunch, but the arrival of the 'Maharanee,' and then of the celebrated 'Buttercup,' soon altered the state of affairs. 'Buttercup' swept the board for some time until Mr. W. Cory brought 'Ulidia' into the club, and she in turn scored off 'Buttercup.' This virtually closed the 10-ton racing in the Thames. In 1881 some excitement was caused by the starting of the 3-ton class on the Thames, and as no paid hands were allowed in these little vessels, the Corinthians were in request in club matches. The 'Muriel' was brought over from Ireland by the Messrs. Fox, and had for competitors the 'Maramah,' 'Mascotte,' 'Naida,' 'Primrose,' 'Venilia,' and 'Snarley Yow,' of which the latter was probably the fastest. The excitement culminated in a race for a 50_l._ cup, subscribed for by several enthusiastic members, and sailed for under the auspices of the Corinthian Yachting Club on June 13, 1882, 'Muriel' winning the cup after a splendid finish with 'Snarley Yow.' The next year saw the advent of 'Chittywee,' who spread-eagled the old fleet, and was in turn knocked out by the redoubtable 'Currytush.' This killed the 3-ton class in the Thames, and for some time class racing was at a discount. The Corinthian Yacht Club, however, by arranging a system of handicaps and other races to suit the vessels belonging to the club, nearly always succeeded in getting good entries for its matches, an annual handicap race from Erith to Ramsgate, open to all yachts in the club, being still one of the most popular events of the season. The 20-rating class has not been patronised for some time in the Thames, but 'Decima,' 'Fan Tan,' 'Dis,' and 'Corona' have had some good racing between 1890 and 1892 in the 10-rating matches. The entries in the numerous handicap matches have included the above four yachts and such vessels as 'Gardenia,' 'Neaira,' 'Terpsichore,' 'Norman,' 'Mimosa,' 'Wenonah,' 'Cyclone,' 'Ildegonda,' 'Oenanthe,' 'Nadejda,' 'Alpha Beta.' [Illustration: Lines and midship section of the 'Dis,' 10-rater, built for A. D. Clarke, Esq., 1888. Designed by J. M. Soper.] In 1888 an attempt was made by the club to encourage a class of small cruising yachts by limiting the length and sail-area, and seven or eight were built from the designs of Messrs. G. L. Watson, Fife, Dixon Kemp, J. T. Howard, Douglas Stone, A. E. Payne, A. Watkins, and others. This class, known as the Thames 21-foot class, has since then furnished extremely close racing, and it is worthy of note that the first boat built, the 'Tottie,' designed by Mr. Watson, successfully held her own for five seasons. The season of 1892, however, showed that the 'Eva,' designed and built by Mr. Stone, of Erith, was quite as good as, if not better than, 'Tottie,' her new owner, Mr. Wyllie, sailing her in first-class form. Much of the 'Tottie's' success must be put down to her extremely skilful handling by the brothers Simpson, who rank among the best amateurs of the day. While the 21-foot class has undoubtedly been a most popular one in the Thames, it is unfortunately the fact that the original idea of encouraging a good useful cruising boat was not fulfilled, the ingenuity of the designers being too much for the few restrictions imposed. We believe that three of the original boats which were not so successful in racing are now being used as cruisers, but the faster or deep-keeled boats are hardly of the type that would be chosen for this purpose. [Illustration: 'Decima' _A. E. Payne_, 1889.] The names of the 21-footers are 'Tottie,' 'Eva,' 'Diskos,' 'Haze,' 'Dorothy,' 'Fancy,' 'Mehalah,' 'Genie,' 'Magnolia,' 'Saivnara,' 'March Hare,' 'Narwhal,' 'Nyleptha,' and 'Macnab.' [Illustration: 'Tottie,' Royal Corinthian Yacht Club, 21-ft. class.] During the last two or three years prizes have been offered for 2-1/2-raters, but the class has not as yet taken any hold on the Thames men, the only entries having been 'Camilla' and 'Cock-a-whoop.' This club now offers a challenge cup for 1-raters, viz. the cup won by the 3-ton 'Muriel,' and presented to the club by Captain H. C. Fox. The Club received the Admiralty warrant to fly the Blue Ensign in 1884, and in 1893 Her Majesty the Queen was graciously pleased to command that the club should be called the Royal Corinthian Yacht Club. The present officers of the club are: Robert Hewett, Esq., Commodore, and Rear-Commodore of Royal Thames, and of 'Buttercup' celebrity; J. Weston Clayton, Esq., Vice-Commodore; Frank C. Capel, Esq., Rear-Commodore; H. Neville Custance, Esq., Hon. Treasurer; and T. G. F. Winser, Esq., Secretary. In order to extend the usefulness of the club to its members, the committee last year secured a club-room at Burnham on the Crouch, a most charming piece of water for small craft. With the greatly improved state of the Thames at Erith, however, it is probable that most of the yachts will come back to the headquarters of the club as of old. It is many years since fish were caught at Erith, but of late they have returned, and the Thames is now in as good condition as could be desired. This river and its estuary form a perfect cruising ground for the amateur yachtsman, and with a snug anchorage and comfortable quarters at the end of a cruise, such as the Royal Corinthian Yacht Club affords, he must be a glutton who is not satisfied. The number of yachts belonging to the club is 220, ranging from 1 to 500 tons. ROYAL LONDON YACHT CLUB The Royal London was established in 1838, and takes the lead in the Victorian period. It began its career in May 1838 as the Arundel Yacht Club, when the majority of the yachts were probably kept on the foreshore at the foot of Arundel Street, Strand. Its flag at that time was a red field, white border, and white letters. In 1845 the name was changed to the London Yacht Club, and the flag adopted was a white field with a blue cross, the union in the upper corner, a gold star in the lower. In 1846 the star was changed for the City arms, on receipt of a grant of this privilege from the Corporation of the City of London. 1849 was an important year in its history. The club received the patronage of Queen Adelaide, whereby it became Royal (a privilege not so easily obtained in those days), and also the recognition of the Admiralty by which the possession of an Admiralty warrant was secured to its members. In early days the races were sailed above bridge, with an occasional bold venture as far down the river as Erith or Gravesend; but, finding by experience that no serious dangers existed in such then comparatively unknown waters, the above-bridge races were in a few years abandoned, and the time-honoured course from Erith round the Nore and back adopted. After many years, owing to the increase in the size of the yachts, and in both the number and size of the vessels navigating the Thames, another change was made. The Royal London always showed energy where yachting progress was concerned, and was the first to adopt flying starts on the Thames. A small class raced thus May 14, 1878, and it may be noted that the club was one of the first clubs in the United Kingdom, if not actually the first, to adopt the Y.R.A. rules, October 20, 1892. The office of Admiral was filled by the election of H.R.H. the Duke of York to that post. A striking illustration, not only of the progress of the club, but also of the development of yachting, is shown in the following table:-- +------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ | Year | Number of Yachts | Aggregate Tonnage | Average Tonnage | +------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ | 1848 | 15 | 161 | 11 | | 1892 | 248 | 17,000 | 69 | +------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ On the social side its advance has been equally striking. After wandering about for many years, in 1857 rooms were engaged at the Caledonian Hotel, Adelphi. In 1882 the prosperity of the club justified the opening of a branch club-house at Cowes, and three years later the London headquarters were moved to their present position in Savile Row. These changes were attended by the most satisfactory results. The numbers, instead of fluctuating between 200 and 300 as they had done for a series of years, at once began to increase, and now there are over 700 names on the books. The yachts have increased correspondingly. THE LONDON SAILING CLUB, HAMMERSMITH The London Sailing Club is a vigorous and practical association which has to be specially commended for two features lately introduced. The first of these was an exhibition in its rooms of 1-rater half-models, scale 1 inch to the foot, each to carry a centre-plate--the design to show shear plan, body plan, and half-breadth plan. Each design was accompanied by a sealed envelope containing the designer's name. These envelopes were not opened until after the designs and models had been judged, and the prizes, three in number, awarded by Mr. Dixon Kemp. The whole arrangements were most satisfactorily carried out. The exhibition opened February 21, 1893, the models remaining on view until March 6. These models, from the hands of professionals as well as amateurs, were in some cases very beautiful. The first prize was awarded to Mr. David Weir, of Partick. The second ran Mr. Weir very close indeed, and when the envelope was opened the name of J. M. Soper was discovered, a name associated with many leading Solent small raters. The awarding of prizes is always a responsibility, but with Mr. Dixon Kemp's experience and scientific knowledge he had little difficulty. The second feature referred to was the reading of papers by leading authorities on practical subjects connected with construction and sailing. The first paper, on centreboards, was read by Mr. Dixon Kemp, and illustrated with diagrams on the blackboard, and a discussion opened by Mr. Warrington Baden-Powell, of canoe fame, followed. The reading of these papers has a good influence in bringing members and their friends together. For special subjects experts and specialists are invited, and much valuable information is often afforded. About it as a club there is nothing very particular to be said. It is popular with its members, and very successfully carries out the objects of the foundation. THE UPPER THAMES SAILING CLUBS [Illustration: Upper Thames Sailing Club and Club-house, Bourne End, Bucks, 1893.] In the year 1893 the Queen graciously extended her patronage to the small raters, now so much in vogue, inland and on the coast, by presenting a 50-guinea Challenge Cup, to be annually sailed for by the Upper Thames Sailing Clubs during the Bourne End week, when the Upper Thames Club hold their fresh-water festival opposite the club-house which was constructed in 1889 at Bourne End, Bucks. The spot is well selected, and affords a commanding view of the long clear reach in which the matches are sailed over a course of nine miles. The Duke of Connaught is their President, the commodore, Colonel FitzRoy Clayton, a practical enthusiast of great experience, one day thrashing a 1-rater through bad weather inland, and the day after perhaps hauling on to the mainsheet of one of our big racers out in the open, equally enjoying both. The secretary is most practical and does much to assist the club with his large fleet of divers kind, from Norwegian punt and American sneakie built by himself, to his steam launch 'Leopard.' He has yet another craft of considerable interest, a Dutch yacht, a perfect marvel of the Hollander's handicraft and beauty of finish; she was built in Friesland about 1830, and is as sound now as when first launched. The Challenge Cup, which is in the form of a bold flagon, pilgrim bottle shape, height 17 in., weight 99 oz., was first sailed for at Bourne End on Jubilee Day, June 21, 1893, by the following clubs, Thames, Thames Valley, Upper Thames, Tamesis, Thames United, and Oxford University. The morning of the 21st was bright with a strong sailing breeze. The race was set for 1.30, and soon after noon all the crews were carefully overhauling their gear and studying the barometer. The weather suggested then having to reef down at the last minute. It must be remembered that the river is not wide at Bourne End, and that it was a flying start. Ten boats were under weigh, all trying and manoeuvring for position, and yet all was done without a foul or a protest; the handling was admirable, it was really a sight to see. A little water might have been shipped, but that was soon baled out, and the curious acrobatic performances of the shifting ballast, stretching out to windward, was also a prominent feature. [Illustration: Upper Thames steam yacht 'Cintra.'] The 'Challenge,' 1.1-rater, O.U.S.C., led at first for three or four rounds, 'Mona,' .85, close up, 'Mirage,' 1.0, going well and looking very handsome. At the finish there was capital racing. In the last round but one 'Mona,' .85, leading, caught a hard gust and took in a reef in a very workmanlike way to make sure of saving her mast. It was admirably done and elicited great praise, as she came in running neck and neck with 'Challenge,' 1.1-rater, both on different gybes, 'Challenge' with her little spinnaker on the port hand and 'Mona,' .85, on the starboard. The spinnaker must be the same size as the jibs in these races. The secretary had handed over his steam launch 'Leopard' to Captain Bell of the Thames Conservancy, whilst he and the commodore sailed the 'Kitten,' which came in fourth. The six-day festival of the six Thames Sailing Clubs, so happily and pleasantly blended, promises well for small-rater sport in the future. THE ROYAL WINDERMERE YACHT CLUB The beautiful Lake district is provided with an excellent yacht club, well organised, with workmanlike system and detail; and, as a fresh-water club, it is here described after the Thames associations. It was founded in 1860 and possesses a Royal Warrant dated 1887. The headquarters are at Bowness, adjoining the Old England Hotel, and consist of club-house, reading-rooms, billiard and committee room, and boat landings; and the club has a very hospitable arrangement, like the Bombay Club, by which gentlemen not residing within ten miles of Bowness, on being proposed and seconded by two members, can be admitted as temporary members, for a week, fortnight, or month, for a moderate fee. The sailing committee request owners to see that professional crews of yachts engaged in races wear white or blue jerseys, yachting or man-of-war caps, or straw hats. The ensign is red with crown in fly. The leading feature of the Royal Windermere Lake Yacht Club is well shown in the illustration on p. 185, as, out of comparatively few members, fourteen are at the starting line, a proportion very seldom met with in any club, and certainly suggesting great unanimity and good feeling. The beautiful surroundings of the lake constitute a great charm, though crews in racing craft have not much time to admire picturesque landscape. [Illustration: 'Feeling it' off the Ferry.] The Windermere Club takes precautions to ensure as much as possible real, well-contested races, and like the 'Water Wags' at Dublin has definite club measurements, thus:-- (_a_) Length of yacht on load-water-line, from fore side of stern to after side of rudder post, shall not exceed 20 ft., and the total length from fore side of stern to extreme end of counter shall not exceed 25 ft. 6 in., and no part of stern above or below water shall or sternpost below water shall project beyond the 20-ft. gauge. A yacht shall be considered to be on her load-line when she lies adrift from her moorings in smooth water, without crew, with all sails set and racing gear on board. [Illustration: Royal Windermere Yacht Club. A fair start.] (_b_) Beam (extreme outside measurement) shall not be less than 6 ft. 6 in. without beading or moulding. (_c_) The draught of water shall not exceed 5 ft. 6 in. when the yacht is on her load-water-line. (_d_) The yacht shall show at least one-quarter of an inch of her rudder-post clear of the water when on her load-water-line. (_e_) No part of the counter shall intersect a triangle or the produced perpendicular thereof shown on p. 186. Base 5 ft. 6 in. on load-water-line produced perpendicular 1 ft. 4 in. from water. (_f_) The length of mast from deck to trunk or end of pole shall not exceed 26 ft. 8 in. Bowsprit from fore side of mast to extreme end shall not exceed 19 ft. in length. The boom from aft side of mast to the end shall not exceed 18 ft. 6 in. and the gaff (measured parallel to the boom) shall not exceed 16 ft. 8 in. in length. It shall, however, be optional to have a boom 22 feet in length from aft side of mast to the end, provided that the gaff does not exceed 15 ft. in length. Topsail yard shall not exceed 18 ft. 9 in. in length. [Illustration: Limit angle of counter.] (_g_) Hoist of mainsail from thimble to thimble 16 feet. (_h_) From deck to pin of jib halliard sheave or pin of block shall not exceed 23 ft. 9 in. (_i_) Mast from deck to pin of topsail sheave shall not exceed 25 feet 9 inches. [Illustration: Smart breeze for racing, Windermere.] (_j_) No yacht shall have less than 32 cwt. of ballast, and no ballast shall be carried inside of yacht. [Illustration: Royal Windermere Yacht Club, Bowness.] [Illustration: Fair wind round the buoy.] These restrictions certainly tend to uniformity and good sport. The yachts have to be constructed with _natural frames_, spaced not more than two feet apart with steamed timbers, between with single pine, larch, oak, pitch pine, American elm, English elm, bay wood or teak planking, and decks. Iron floors are allowed, but no iron or steel frames. [Illustration: Calm weather.] The size of racing flag at the main peak during a match to be 2 ft. 6 in. by 1 ft. 6 in. Fore and aft sails--namely, mainsail jib and topsail only, and no square sails or other sails set as square sails--must be used at Club matches. No footsticks or jackyards are allowed to gaff topsails; no booming out of the sails is permitted even by hand, except by sheets hauled aft of the fairleader. Every yacht sailing in a race must carry at least two life buoys ready for immediate use. The general and sailing rules published by the Royal Windermere Yacht Club are practical and ably drawn up. As will be seen by the chart, Bowness is situated about a little north of the half length of the Lake. The Ben Holme flag boat opposite, at the north end, is the Waterhead flag buoy, and at the south end of the lake is the Town Head buoy. The club course is from the ferry round a flag buoy off Town Head at the south extremity of the Lake and back to the Ben Holme flag boat, opposite Bowness. The distance is 18 miles. The Waterhead course is from Waterhead, N. extremity of the Lake, round flag buoy, off Ben Holme (Bowness), thence round flag buoy in Lowood Bay, thence round flag buoy in Pull Wyke Bay, thence round Waterhead flag buoy, sailing the same course again and turning off Waterhead. The natural formation of the surrounding district explains the special necessity for the two life buoys ready for immediate use, as squalls and stormy weather are characteristics of the Lake district, although the regattas are sailed in the finest season, during the month of July. The secretary, Lieut.-Col. Arthur L. Reade, has courteously furnished details of this interesting inland club. The photographs of the 'Beauties of the Lake' of Windermere are by Mr. Bronskill, of Bowness. CHAPTER V YACHTING ON THE NORFOLK BROADS BY G. CHRISTOPHER DAVIES The sailing of small yachts and boats is vigorously indulged in upon the rivers and lakes of Norfolk and Suffolk, in what is popularly known as the Broad District. There is, indeed, every temptation to the sport in this favoured region. No _mal de mer_ can haunt its smooth waters; there is no tossing about in exposed anchorages, but instead the mooring by grassy banks odorous with flowers. Gales lose their terrors and zephyrs gain additional charm on these placid and sinuous waterways and toy lakes. Yet there is room enough and to spare for all the evolutions the boat-sailer delights in, and the exploring cruises dear to the owners of small yachts, while life on sailing houseboats is sufficiently tempting to the laziest lotus-eater. The adventurous can make adventure, the explorer can lose himself in mazy reed-beds, the lounger can lounge with the minimum of trouble, the young can picnic in the most luxurious fashion, ladies can 'yacht' in the most ladylike way, and complexions will not pale (what is so piteous as a seasick woman?) upon these favoured streams. Even the sturdiest sea cruiser acknowledges the charm of the quiet gliding between their verdant banks, and the quiet sleep dependent upon neither watch nor riding light. No one enjoys a sail at sea in fair summer weather more than I do; but upon the many occasions upon which the sea has been rougher than I approved of, I have said in my haste: 'What a fool I must be to desert the safety and surety of the Broads for this, which is neither safe nor sure!' At the same time it is only fair to say that, after a quick and pleasant passage to some foreign port, I have also said: 'Better one such sail than many on the Broads.' My boating life has been spent in a vacillation between the quiet pleasures of the Broads and the excitement of the sea; and I have made many attempts to procure craft in which to enjoy either at will. This is a difficult matter, inasmuch as the draught necessary for able work at sea is too great for the rivers. [Illustration: The 'Greyhound.'] Although many thousands know well the district of the Broads, yet to the bulk of people it is still a _terra incognita_. It is therefore necessary to give at least a brief description of the _locus in quo_. Taking one's stand at Great Yarmouth, with one's back to the sea and facing inland, one sees--or could in truth see if one ascended the lofty Nelson Monument--first the narrow and busy harbour which conveys the waters of all the rivers to the sea, then a great tidal lake known as Breydon Water, four or five miles long. From this one can ascend by vessel the greater river Yare, which for twenty miles of broad and sinuous course threads the marshes to Norwich. On the right is the Bure, commonly called the North River, which twists and turns for twenty-seven miles to Wroxham, and is navigable further yet to Coltishall and Aylsham. Tributary to this river are the Ant and the Thurne, giving access to the largest of the Broads. Southward of Breydon is the deep and clear Waveney, with Beccles twenty-three miles from the sea at Yarmouth, and a short cut to the sea by Oulton Broad and Lowestoft. [Illustration: The fisher's home, the Broads.] Broadenings of these waterways at many points have become, by the growth of reeds and accumulations of soil, lakes or Broads, more or less separate from the rivers, but in most cases having navigable access to them. The characteristic of the district is its extreme flatness and the consequent slight fall of the river-beds, the current being mainly tidal, with not much difference of level at that. Yet this flatness is not monotonous; for, in addition to the ever-varying and ever-pleasing cloudscapes seen to best advantage in flat regions, there are beauties on the marshes and river borders of no common order. The luxuriant growth of reeds around the lakes gives the feeling of utter seclusion from the madding crowd. The gay hues of flowering plants, altering with sunshine and shadow of clouds on the wind-swept marsh, the deep shades of groves, the clear and winding rivers, the dark-brown and high-peaked sails of the wherries with their graceful curve of leach, and the white sails of the yachts scattered here and there, now reflected in a glassy reach, and again seeming to thread the verdant marshes where no water is visible from one's standpoint; the kestrel hovering over the 'rand,' a jay hunting a reed-bed for nests and eggs, waterfowl of many kinds, the splash of fish in a quiet bay, a heron by a lilied dyke, and innumerable noticeable incidents of bird and insect life, make the hours too short which are spent on these singular waterways. In order to fully understand the peculiarities of the craft navigating the Broads and rivers both for trade and pleasure it is desirable to appreciate the necessities of the district; and for this purpose it would be well to step on board some kind of craft on which one can be independent of hotels as well as railways. For it is quite clear that journeys by rail cannot show one the life of the Broads. It is singular what a difference the point of view makes. Thus there are reaches where the rail and river run near each other. From the rail there is nothing to see but a flat marsh and a winding river. But from a boat on the river the view assumes an altogether different aspect. If one pleases, the tall and swaying reeds, brown topped and feathery, may bound the scene, hide the rail, and provide one with the loneliness of nought but water and sky--a veritable solitude; or from a higher standpoint the eye may travel with a keen interest over the reed-beds and the brilliant-hued marsh, past windmill and dwarf tree to the undulating and wooded higher lands which are the shores of the marsh. For choice for a mere cruising holiday, I would take, if middle-aged, a real Norfolk wherry converted into a roomy houseboat as presently to be described. The Norfolk wherry is a craft quite unlike those of any other district, and eminently suited to the shallow and somewhat narrow waters of its birthplace. The limit of suitability seems to have been reached by perfection, since of late years no alteration whatever has taken place in the design of the wherry or its sail. As it is the aboriginal craft, so to say, of these waters, and its graceful sail forms a constant object of interest upon the waterways, it merits the pride of place in a description of Norfolk craft. It has greater interest also in that it is suitable for cruising in other waters, notably in those of Holland and Friesland, where Mr. Doughty found that a Norfolk wherry was even more suitable for Dutch waters than the Dutch vessels, so far as pleasure purposes go.[23] [Footnote 23: See _Friesland Meres in a Norfolk Wherry_.] The draught of an unladen wherry is from 2 ft. 4 in. to 2 ft. 6 in., with a beam of 13 ft. and a length of 52 ft. It has a short hollow bow, with the greatest beam well forward and a fine run aft. It has only a few inches outside keel, yet in fairly smooth water it lies remarkably close to the wind, going fast through the water all the time. The mast is stepped 12 ft. 6 in. from the stem, and is a splendid spar of spruce fir or pitch pine 37 ft. deck to hounds, without any stay other than a forestay, and supports a single sail of the following dimensions: luff, 27 ft.; foot, 28 ft.; head, 29 ft.; and leach, 44 ft. 6 in. There is no boom, and the gaff has a high peak. The sail is hoisted by a single halliard set up by a winch on the mast. A drawing and lines of a wherry accompany an article by myself which was published in the 'Field' of March 20, 1880, to which the reader who may be interested can refer. The mast swings in a tabernacle, and the heel is weighted with lead and iron to the extent of 1-1/2 ton, and is so well balanced that a boy can lower and raise it. It will be seen that the rig has the extreme of simplicity to recommend it. One man can sail a 30-ton wherry, although he generally has the assistance of his wife or a mate. When within a few yards of a fixed bridge the sail is rapidly lowered, the forestay tackle cast off and windlass unhitched from the mast, and down comes the mast as gently as possible; the wherry shoots through the bridge, and up go mast and sail the other side. The mainsheet works on a horse on the cabin-top in front of the steersman, and with his back against the tiller he controls the great craft with ease. The stern is pointed, and the rudder is no less than 5 ft. in breadth. Of course the tonnage of the craft varies; the above measurements are those of a medium-sized one. A cabin about 6 ft. long in front of the small steering-well accommodates the crew, and there is a long hold, reaching to the mast and protected by movable hatches, for the cargo. A few years ago some ingenious person hit upon the idea of converting a trading wherry into a pleasure one by raising and permanently fixing the hatches, placing windows at the sides (there is no bulwark, and but a narrow plankway between the edge and the cabin sides), dividing the roomy interior into saloon and bedrooms, and so producing a commodious and comfortable sailing houseboat, which has become exceedingly popular. There are numbers of them about now, and they are always in demand for hire by parties visiting the Broads. The large sail carries a sort of flounce laced on to the bottom of it called a bonnet, and the removal of this is equivalent to lowering a topsail. The trading wherries carry no ballast when empty of cargo, but the pleasure wherries have a sufficient quantity of scrap iron. They move in the lightest of airs, and in strong winds are marvellously stiff. They will tack in channels no wider than their own length, but in narrow waters they are helped round by the man giving the bows a set off each bank with a 'quant' or long pole (Latin _contus_); they are capable of high speeds, and the easy way in which they get about the narrow and shallow waters is surprising. Occasionally they essay the sea passage from Yarmouth to Lowestoft, instead of going round by the rivers, and even race at sea; but it cannot be doubted that in doing so they go beyond the margin of safety. Although Mr. Doughty successfully towed a wherry behind a steam tug from Yarmouth to Stavoren, another wherry essaying the same feat was lost. The low, long, flat hull cannot stand rough water, and the heavy mast with its weighted heel is a dangerous lever in the wrong position. [Illustration: Regatta time.] Many yachts have been built after the plan of the wherry, but with yacht-like hulls above water. At first the simple wherry rig was retained, but soon there came a boom to the sail, and then a bowsprit and jib, additions which, no doubt, make the vessel faster, but mean more help in handling--two men instead of one, and so on. These barges, as they are called, have increased greatly in number during the last few years. The other day I counted no fewer than twelve lying moored on Oulton Broad, where five years ago one such would have attracted attention. The immense influx of visitors to the Broads is, of course, responsible for this increase. The latest of these barges, the 'Waveney,' is no less than 58 ft. long, but it is believed that there is considerable difficulty in getting her about. The barge yacht is more seaworthy than the wherry, and one--the 'Ianthe'--has twice crossed the North Sea to Holland for cruising in Dutch waterways. She was fortunately favoured with fine weather, and it would, no doubt, be needful to make as sure as possible that the weather was set fair for a day or two before venturing. The draught is but 5 ft. or less, and the heavy pole mast is set far forward, while there is an open well, so it would not be the best kind of craft for bad weather. Still, for modest sails out of the harbour, for Dutch waters, and for Norfolk rivers, these barges possess every advantage, while they are most comfortable to live upon. The barges look smarter than the wherries, inasmuch as they have white sails instead of brown or black, and yacht-like decks and fittings; but I must say that for pure river cruising I prefer the plain wherry. It is more picturesque in appearance, and, size for size, easier to handle, although, no doubt, the latest types of barges are faster. Taking one's departure from Wroxham, one finds a narrow river crowded with boats. Only a few years ago the arrival of a single yacht at Wroxham was an event. Now both banks of the river are lined with wharves, yachts, and boats, and boat-builders' sheds are springing up on every side. A striking tribute to the favour in which the Broads are held is the boat-letting establishment of Mr. Loynes, who at the first Fishery Exhibition exhibited models of small open centreboard boats, to be converted at night into sleeping cabins by most ingeniously contrived awnings. In consequence of this he desires, and very properly, to divide with the writer the honour of first drawing the public attention to these favourite cruising grounds. From the small beginning he then made he has come to own many yachts, large (20 tons) and small (3 or 4 tons), mostly built by himself, capable of navigating the shallowest of the Broads, comfortably fitted with all essentials of comfort, and attended by most civil and capable men. He is now introducing his boats to the Friesland meres, and it is probable that many of his Norfolk customers will follow him to that larger lake-land. His vessels are mostly centreboard and of light draught, the latter, by the way, being of more vital necessity than ever. The tourist steamers which now rush up and down the Bure draw down the soft mud from the sides and deposit it in the channel, so decreasing the depth. A few days before writing this I had a 25-ton cutter towed up from Yarmouth to Wroxham, for the purpose of laying up, by a steam-launch. By taking out ballast her draught was reduced to 5 ft. 6 in., yet she grounded at least twenty times in the upper reaches, right in the middle of the channel. [Illustration: Wroxham pleasure craft.] The river below Wroxham is very narrow and very sinuous; its banks lined with groves of trees which intercept the wind. The lofty peak of our wherry's sail holds the air over the bushes, and we keep slowly moving along, while smaller boats are either becalmed or, catching sudden puffs, lay over at alarming angles. It is a Saturday evening, and very many little yachts, from the open lugsail sailing boat on which a high-roofed cabin-top has been placed to the 4- or 8-ton yachts of smarter build, are making their way down to more open waters for the happy and healthy week end, most blessed to the person whose occupations are sedentary. A mile or two of charming river reaches brings us to Wroxham Broad--a lovely sheet of water surrounded by an inner circle of tall green and feathery topped reeds and an outer circle of bushes and trees. It is entered by a narrow gateway from the river, and boating is freely permitted, subject to certain wise regulations which are as much to the interest of the public as to that of the riparian owners. The reeds have a golden belt where the rise and fall of the water has left its yellow mark, shining brightly in the westering sun. In the smooth patches under the lee of the reeds one may see the sparkle of bait flying out from pursuing pike or perch, and in the still bays the coots and water-hens dive and splash. Across and across the Broad skim the white sails of boats and canoes making the most of the dying breeze, and the wavelets sink to ripples, and the ripples are shot with streaks and patches of cloud-reflecting calm. We leave this, the most beautiful and deepest of the Broads, to make the most of the evening air down the river. On the occasion of the annual regatta there is a prodigious water frolic at Wroxham, which is attended by perhaps a hundred sailing craft of all kinds, and much merriment results. Gliding quietly down stream we pass on the left Hoveton Broads, Great and Little--nurseries of wildfowl and kept strictly private, with chains across the entrance; on the right Salhouse Broads, Great and Little, on which boating is permitted under protest; and further still on the right Woodbastwick Broad, also strictly private. Hoveton little Broad is a breeding-place of the black-headed gull, which nest here in great numbers. So by wood and mere and sighing reed we pass with many a twist and turn until we reach the hostelry of Horning Ferry. Here, as night draws on, many vessels arrive. Strolling along the bank we can note what is after all the great fun of Broad yachting--the camping and living on board a floating house, however small. The big wherries and barges are of course floating houseboats, comparatively luxurious; but at the other extreme here are three or four open boats covered in with canvas tents or awnings luminous with the lamps within, and with myriads of dazzled night insects pattering against the shining canvas. The evening meal is being discussed, then there is the clatter of washing-up, the cleaning of knives by thrusting them into the soft bank, the washing of plates with tufts of paper, and the general tidying-up which is part of the fun to young men, but which ceases to possess any charm to older ones. These rivers are capital places for the man fond of single-handed sailing. One well-known and elderly amateur sails a lugsail boat alone, but at a proper distance behind him comes his man in another single-handed boat. The latter pitches his master's tent and relieves him of household troubles, and retires to his own boat tent when not wanted. This is really a capital arrangement. [Illustration: Wroxham Broad.] When the stars come out, the herons settle in the shallow pools; the wild duck fly from the sheltered decoys and preserved sanctuaries to more open feeding-grounds; a shot rings out on the August night from some reed-hidden gunner who has been patiently awaiting the evening flight. In contrast come the notes of a piano and song from a barge; along the bank is a row of lights from cosy cabins; the inn is thronged with boat-sailers eagerly discussing their common sport; then the last cheery good-nights, and silence falls over the lone marsh and winding river. In the morning there is the splash of swimmers, blankets and bedding are put out to air on the cabin-tops, spirit and paraffin stoves mingle their scent with that of frying bacon and the wild thyme on the banks. About ten o'clock the little yachts spread their sails to the freshening breeze, and off they go. If we have ladies on board, they will probably wish to go to Horning Church in the morning, and can then sail in the afternoon with a clear conscience--a compromise approved by the strictest sabbatarian, who finds in the peace and quiet of Norfolk waters an assurance that neither the wind nor he is a sinner in the gentle movement. After lunch the wind has freshened so that we take our bonnet off (off the sail, that is) and smaller vessels reef. The wind, too, is ahead, and we have to tack a great deal as we continue our course down stream. Still the river course is so tortuous that every reach is not a head one; sometimes, indeed, we can lay one reach on one tack and the next reach on the other tack. It is pretty to watch the yachts shooting from side to side of the river (which widens as we proceed); they lay over, with the water bubbling over the lee deck and the foot of the great balloon jib deep in the water. The long bowsprit sweeps over the grass of the margin as the helm is let go; the boat shoots up into the wind, is upright with fluttering jib for a moment, then off she goes on the other tack to repeat the manoeuvre at the opposite shore. If the mainsheet is well handled the mainsail never shakes. As it loses the wind on one side it catches it on the other, the jib being kept slightly aback until the boat's head is well off the wind. It is no joke to handle the jibsheets of an 8- or 10-ton boat. In spite of soft cotton rope being employed, the chafe will try the horniest hand. In sailing the jib is worked to every puff, eased off or drawn in at every variation in direction or strength of wind. The man in charge watches the wind pressing down the grasses and reeds and darkening the water in advance, and trims his sheet to every puff or lull. If he does not, why, the boat is not sailing her best--that is all. The mainsheet man, too, is almost as particular. When there are hands enough to work the sheets no one thinks of making a sheet fast. The bends of the river are too frequent for that. Again, there is almost always another yacht ahead or astern, and you strive to overtake the one or sail away from the other, so that every day's sail is more or less of a race. In passing or meeting other craft the rules of the road are well observed, and the steering is usually so excellent that a space of six inches is considered an ample margin of distance from the other vessel. These narrow rivers soon develop considerable skill in this direction, and accidents do not often happen. The least rare is that of misjudging the rate at which a wherry is coming, and getting athwart her bows while tacking; but a direct collision is averted, and the yacht's bowsprit or mainsheet is the only thing which suffers. [Illustration: Smooth-water bowsprit.] On the right we pass Ranworth Broad, a fine lake in two sections, the larger of which is now in process of being closed to the tourist; on the left the mouth of the narrow river Ant, which, after twisting like an eel for some five miles, opens into the navigable but shallow Barton Broad, of considerable size. There is a bridge over the Ant so narrow that the larger kind of vessels cannot get through. The tract of marsh widens out and the view broadens. On our right is a mile-long channel leading to South Walsham Broad, part of which is navigable and part private. As an instance of how vibrations of movement are carried along water, a gentleman residing at South Walsham tells me that when the water near the staith is covered with a thin veneer of ice he can tell when a wherry entered the mouth of South Walsham Dyke from the river, a mile and a half away, by the ice rippling and cracking. Passing the ruins of St. Benedict's Abbey on the left, we presently come to the mouth of the river Thurne, up which we sail for a few miles to Potter Heigham Bridge, where in company with several barges and yachts we moor, with the intention of visiting Hickling Broad and Horsey Mere on the morrow. The night falls dark and lowering, with flashes of summer lightning in the south lighting up the great distance of flat and treeless marsh; but no rain falls, and a quiet night and sound sleep bring us to the dewy morn of another glorious summer day. Most of the larger yachts and pleasure wherries have centreboard sailing dinghies, and it is more convenient to take ours through the narrow arch where the tide-impelled current sweeps upward to diffuse itself over the terminal lakes, twenty-five miles from the sea by river, three miles by land. Here, save in the tourist-crowded month of August, may be found true solitude. The river runs through far-reaching marshes, a branch leads through a wilderness of water and tall reeds, the brown tops of the latter trembling against the clouds from our low point of view. Water, reeds, clouds; a kestrel hovering overhead, our boat gliding on clear, shallow water over trailing weeds and shoals of startled rudd; then the wider channel of Heigham Sounds, and at last the expanse of Hickling Broad. Four hundred acres it is said to be, but the reedy margins absorb a great part of this. Still, there is water enough to make the scene imposing, and the first thought of a boating-man is--What a splendid place for sailing! But looking down through the clear water one sees that the bottom is almost within reach of one's arm, and even in the channels there is only sufficient water for a wherry. It is obvious, therefore, that the shallow centreboard boat is the only type fit for Hickling. It maybe useful to mention that a recent judicial decision gives as the law that the public have the rights of navigation and passage over Hickling Broad, but that those of fishing and shooting are vested in the riparian owners. Not far from Hickling, and connected with it by Heigham Sounds and a narrow dyke, is Horsey Mere, so near the sea that the sea-water at times wells into it in the shape of salt springs. At the entrance of the mere a small cruising yacht is lying, the men having gone ashore for a walk over the sand dunes to the sea. The mooring rope is fast to a deck scrub thrust into the bank, and a heifer, having found out the roughness of the scrub, is leisurely rubbing herself all over and most thoroughly against the bristles. A wherry sweeping down the dyke with peak lowered leaves us but scant room to pass as we sail back to Heigham Sounds. From Potter Heigham we sail in the wherry down the Thurne, into the Bure, and so on to Acle Bridge, where the mast has to be lowered. From Acle to Yarmouth the sail is not so interesting. The tide runs strongly and the banks are shoal. This part of the passage is undertaken of necessity, and not for pleasure. At Yarmouth we enter Breydon Water, where the greater space and depth of channel brings us into contact with larger yachts. Still, it is yachting in miniature, and the man accustomed to Cowes must think it rather ridiculous of us to call our small craft yachts. I much prefer the old and truly descriptive term of pleasure boats. When the Broad sailor comes to Breydon he feels that, comparatively speaking, he is in the open sea, and a beat across it with a smart breeze against tide means wet plankways and an exciting sail. At the top of Breydon to the left is the entrance of the river Waveney, so shallow and dangerous as to be avoided. The river Yare, to the right, is wide and deep, and gives good sailing ground up by Reedham to Cantley, where the chief river regattas are held, and higher still to Norwich. From Reedham a narrow and straight canal, called Haddiscoe Cut, leads into the Waveney at a point above its shallows and a fixed bridge. The bridges on the Yare and the Upper Waveney from Haddiscoe to Beccles are railway bridges, opening save when a red flag or lamp denotes the arrival of a train. The scenery on both rivers seaward of Reedham is flat and uninteresting, and it is above Reedham, on the Yare, and St. Olave's, on the Waveney, that the beauty of the landscape adds interest to the sailing. As one proceeds up the Waveney and through the narrow dyke which connects the Mid-Waveney with Oulton Broad, Lake Lothing, and the sea at Lowestoft, one meets great numbers of yachts and sailing boats, and we may now dwell more closely upon the characteristics of these. The old term in existence before the more ambitious title of yacht was _pleasure boat_. This was applied to the decked sailing boats we now call yachts, and is perpetuated in the sign of the Pleasure-boat Inn, Hickling. A favourite type, of which but few examples exist, was the lateener, first, I believe, consisting of two lateen-shaped sails, but afterwards of a lateen-shaped foresail and a gaff-mizen. The foresail was set upon a short mast right in the bows and raking well forward, and the yard was often twice the length of the vessel. Such a rig was very close-winded, and handy enough to handle once the sail was up; but the long yard was a great nuisance in raising and lowering the sail, and the reefing had to be done along the long yard instead of the short boom. The boats also were dangerous in running before the wind, being apt to run under head first. This may have been partly owing to the short and full bow which was deemed necessary to support the weight of the mast and sail, and which at high speed created a great hollow in the water. Possibly a lateen-rigged, sharper-bowed boat would even now be found to be a very fast and handy type for our rivers. The balance lug so much in vogue is but a lateen sail with the fore-angle cut off. I only know of two lateeners of late on our waters--the 'Ariel' of Beccles, a boat of about 10 tons, and the 'Black Maria' of Barton Broad. The owner of the latter died recently, and it is possible the yacht is not now in commission; but she looked picturesque threading the narrow and sinuous reaches of the Ant on her way to and from Barton Broad. [Illustration: River Waveney craft.] A light-displacement boat is a necessity upon Norfolk waters. It is not only that the depth is small and that the draught of a boat should not exceed 4 ft. 6 in. if she is to get about comfortably, but the water displaced by her movement has but little room to disperse in the narrower channels. It is sufficient to watch the light-displacement sailing wherry going fast through the water with scarcely a ripple, and making but slight difference in the level of the water at the grassy margins, and then to see a heavy-displacement steam wherry going not so fast, yet piling up the water in front of her, filling and emptying the dykes and runlets as she passes, to understand that the one thing essential for speed is light displacement. Again, in a heavy-displacement craft of my own which is sometimes brought upon the rivers, whenever the waterway is constricted she moves slowly and the river craft gain upon her. When the channel suddenly broadens she seems to leap forward and away in a striking manner. Many yachts have come to try their speed with the Norfolk boats, but generally having greater displacement have come off second-best, although possibly better craft in more open waters. The old type is a flat-bottomed boat with a deep keel spiked on to it; the angle between the keel and the hull is filled in with more or less graceful curves, but the principle is the same in the most successful of the modern racing yachts, as it was in the older craft: a beamy, flat hull and a comparatively deep keel. Practically there is no change in the midship sections other than that which more skilled workmanship and more artistic design have evolved. The principle is only the same, however, so far as the midship section is concerned. Great advances, or at all events alterations, have gradually been made in the longitudinal design of the boats. Quick turning has always been a necessity with the yachts of the Broads, and this has been attained by the help of three peculiarities--a keel short for the length of the boat, a rudder so large as to be in reality a movable keel or leeboard, and an enormous jib, which is the only head-sail. The size of the jib is also influenced by the fact that it has to balance the equally enormous mainsail. In order partly to carry as much sail as is required for these smooth waters the mast is always well forward, and with a large mainsail and boom projecting far over the counter great head-sail is a necessity. The old measurement of racing craft used simply to be length on the 'ram' or keel, which as long as all boats were of the same type in other respects was fair enough. But a boat, say, 20 ft. over all would have a counter of 9 ft. or 9 ft. 6 in.; practically half her length would be counter. I do not think this great counter was altogether the result of an attempt to cheat the tonnage measurement, although no doubt this may have had some influence. It was more the result of circumstances; the yacht with a short keel, well forward, and great rudder, turned more quickly than a boat of similar size with longer keel and smaller rudder. About half this great counter was permanently immersed, and when a boat laid over, almost the whole of it came into bearing. It was popularly supposed that the broad, flat counter peculiar to the old boats bore the weight of the boom; the yachts, though very quick and handy, carried tremendous weather helm and were very hard to steer, sometimes taking the strength of two men to prevent them shooting into the wind. When the helm is let go, the little vessel shoots so quickly into the wind that she might be put about on the other tack by backing the jib, without further touch of the tiller. In fact, so powerful is the great overhang of mainsail and jib in controlling the balance pivoted on the short keel that I have many times tacked a 4-ton boat up a narrow reach without touching the tiller at all, simply by manipulating the sheets, and this, too, while sailing single-handed. This was by way of experiment only. The usual way of sailing a 4-ton, or, for the matter of that, a 10-ton yacht single-handed, is while going to windward to make the mainsheet fast, steer with your back, and work the jibsheet with your hands. Reaching or going free you work the mainsheet and jibsheet alternately as best you can. All the boats have large open wells, the jibsheets lead aft through a couple of blocks shackled to the clew of the sail, with the standing part fast to eyes on each plankway, and leading blocks further aft. Thus there is just sufficient purchase to enable a strong man to control the jibsheet of a 10-ton boat. In sailing these boats there is no making the jibsheet fast if you wish to get the best speed out of the vessel. They are trimmed to an inch, and every bend of the river means a careful and anxious adjustment of the jibsheet. The same remarks apply to the mainsheet, and where two or three equally capable amateurs are engaged in sailing there will be keen differences of opinion as to the proper quantity of sheet to be allowed out, and hot arguments as to the advisability of an inch more or less, when to the man accustomed to sailing in more open water the difference would appear immaterial. In tacking, the stern of the boat swings upon the pivot of the forefoot, and it frequently happens that in sailing close to the bank of the river before putting about, although the bowsprit bends the grasses, and the stem is clear of the bank, yet the counter cannons against the bank or shaves the mud. Whether it was found that advantage was taken of the keel measurement to get larger boats by means of immersed counters, or whether it was simply to give more scope to designers, is a matter of controversy; but it was ordained that half the length of the counter had to be added to the length of keel to form the factor of length, the rest of the measurement being according to the Thames rule. This rule of measurement prevailed for many years without any particular alteration in the type of boat supervening. Then, and only recently, length on the load-water-line was taken, and presently the Y.R.A. rules of measurement and rating were adopted. The effect of the alteration has been to lengthen the keel, and perhaps to round up the forefoot a little. It has been suggested that it would be as easy to attain the quick turning by rounding the forefoot and having the greatest draught aft as it is by the present method of keeping the draught well forward and shortening the keel; but there is this objection--the shores next the banks are frequently shoal and muddy. When the boat swings round on her deep forefoot, if that is free from mud the lighter draught stern is sure to follow; but when a light draught forefoot is still free from the mud, the deeper draught stern swings on to it and is caught, and the boat's head pays off to leeward before she releases herself. Experience goes to show that in the larger classes the boat with much drag aft is not suitable for these shallow-margined rivers, and that to succeed in racing it is necessary to be able to perform the feat of waltzing a boat round and round in little more than her own extreme length, as the writer has done by way of experiment. A boat which will only handle when she has steerage way does not stand much chance. [Illustration: 'Greyhound,' midship section.] The yachts used generally to be built by that rule-of-thumb method, the result of long and slow experience, which has often proved more sure than the experiments of science; but of late years two boat-builders have studied intelligently the principles of design, and have applied them with great success to the building of the most successful craft yet seen upon these waters. These two are Mr. Brighton of Yarmouth, and Mr. Mollett of Brundall. The former has confined his attention to the larger class of craft in use here, and the latter to the smaller vessels. First of Mr. Brighton's boats to attract attention was the 3-tonner 'Trixie,' then the 9-tonner 'Wanderer,' and then the 4-tonner 'Greyhound,' all in their time the best boats of their class, although run hard by those of other designers. The 'Trixie' is a boat 27 ft. 6 in. over all, 20 ft. 6 in. stem to sternpost, 24 ft. on the water-line, 6 ft. 6 in. beam, and 3 ft. 9 in. draught of water; boom 25 ft., gaff 20 ft., bowsprit outboard 22 ft. She carried about 4 tons of lead ballast. The 'Greyhound' was designed by William Brighton, but built by workmen of the owner, Mr. John Hall, of Yarmouth. In design she is undoubtedly the best produced by Brighton, and therefore the best boat of her size on the rivers. Proportionately to size, she is a better boat than the 'Wanderer.' Since she was built, in 1889, she has won 175 first prizes and 30 second, in addition to several challenge cups, and is also a good little boat at sea, thinking nothing of making the 'outside' passage direct from Lowestoft to Dover in fair weather. The design we give is traced from the moulds off which the yacht was built. The dimensions are as follows:-- Length L.W.L. 25.27 feet " over all 34.45 " Beam 6 feet 8 inches Overhang forward 3.30 feet " aft 5.88 " Rudder-head from taffrail 6.0 " Draught amidships 5.0 " Lead on keel 3 tons No inside ballast. For sea-work her rating is 3.9 tons. Boom 22.55 feet Gaff 17.15 " Foresail 359.3 square feet Topsail 110.0 " " Mainsail 452.2 " " ----- 921.5 " " [Illustration: Lines of the 'Greyhound,' 1892, Norfolk Broads yacht.] For river-work she spreads 1,014 sq. ft. sail-area, and her rating is about 4.5. The boat is built entirely without caulking, with not a single butt in deck or hull. The keel is Memel oak; skin of yellow pine 1-1/8 inch; sawn timbers 2 inches square, with steamed timbers 1-1/2 inch square. She is in every respect beautifully finished, and some of her success may be attributable to the excellence of her workmanship. The designer has refused us any dimensions of the 'Wanderer,' but we believe that practically she is an enlarged edition of the 'Greyhound.' She has been run close, if not excelled, by the 'Corona,' a boat designed for both sea and river, and fairly good on each. She has greater draught and more rise of floor, with greater displacement. At first she was fitted with a centreboard, which, however, was found as useless as it generally is in a boat of comparatively deep draught. Its province is in shoal boats. I tried a centreboard in the 4-tonner 'Swan,' but discarded it after one season. None of the racing yachts over 3 tons have centreboards, and experience has shown that on these waters the centreboard is only of use for the smaller and flatter boats. It is true that Loynes, the boat-letter, has many yachts up to about 20 tons fitted with centreboards, but then his vessels are designed to navigate the shallowest Broads, and centreboards are a necessity in his case. He is, by the way, an adept at fitting centreboards with various devices to facilitate handling them, and his cranks and automatic brakes and other mechanical contrivances are most ingenious and effective. The 'Corona' was designed and built by Peed of Oulton, who had built several fast-sailing boats. She is supposed to be a better boat in rough water than the 'Wanderer,' running her close also in the river reaches at Cantley, where the regattas are frequently held. She is also a comfortable cruising boat, having two cabins with good accommodation. Her chief measurements are:-- Length over all 50 feet " W. L. 33 feet 6 inches Beam 9 " Draught 6 " Ballast 6 tons Mr. Mollett's boats have chiefly been of the open and half-decked class. His first great success was the 'Cigarette,' a centreboard lugsail boat, which won a great number of prizes and was a perfect witch in going to windward. He followed this up by several similar boats, all fairly successful and betraying advances in cleverness of design and experiments upon well-thought-out principles. In 1890 Mr. Mollett startled the boating fraternity by producing a kind of double-hulled boat called the 'Gossip,' which, to use his own words, is 'curious though fast.' Her deck appearance is that of an oblong raft, and the section of her hull is that of a flattened W. There is no actual division between the hulls, but a hollow runs along the middle so that when the boat is on an even keel the top of the hollow is upon the water-line. When she heels over the windward hull is raised more or less out of the water, and the vessel sails on the support of the leeward portion, the windward portion acting as a kind of outrigger or windward ballast. The buttock lines are, roughly speaking, segments of a circle of long radius with only the middle and lower part of the segment immersed. She had no keel, but a centreboard dropping between the hulls, and a deep rudder. Her dimensions are: Length over all, 28 ft.; length on L.W.L., 17-1/2 ft.; beam, 7-1/4 ft.; depth, 2-1/4 ft.; draught of hull, 10 in.; draught with plate down, 3-3/4 ft.; area of sail in foresail and lug mainsail, 460 ft. [Illustration: 'Castanet.'] The 'Gossip' was extremely fast running and when sailed full, and won several races. Her mode of going to windward looked peculiar, as she was sailed broad full and rattled from side to side of the river at a rare pace, so that although neither sailing so close as the other competing craft nor shooting so far in stays, being so light, yet she would often make a point to windward quicker than any of them by reason of her speed; and, after all, as Mollett says, the object is to get to windward as quickly as possible, no matter how you do it. The 'Gossip' had, however, one grave defect. She would turn turtle with astonishing suddenness. Her vanishing point was soon reached. She had to be sailed with the utmost skill and caution, and it is only by good luck that she has not yet drowned anyone. The only time I sailed in her, being unaware of this peculiarity, I as nearly as possible had her over in a sudden puff; which, as I had my children on board, might have been a serious matter. Her owner tells me that she has capsized five times, and has very frequently been on the verge of capsizing. A design of this remarkable craft, and an interesting article upon her by Mr. Mollett, appears in the 'Field' of January 10, 1891. Mollett took the centreboard out and substituted a fixed keel with 5 cwt. of lead on it, which he was sanguine enough to say rendered the boat practically uncapsizable. She has, however, capsized several times since then. He afterwards removed the keel and returned to the centreboard, with which he thought the boat was faster and handier. Since then a succeeding owner has reverted to a sort of heavy fin-keel, but the boat has not done so well in racing as formerly. Her canvas is, however, worn and stretched, which may have something to do with it. We hope, for the sake of her owner and his companions, that she will disappear somehow or another before any fatal accident results from her use. Noticing how cleanly our flat counters leave the water, Mollett thought--What is the use of having a sharp bow to divide the water? Why not have a double-sterned boat, and let the bow slide over the water instead of through it? Something of this idea was present in the building of the 'Gossip,' but in the 'Castanet,' lately built for Mr. Russell Colman, the idea has had full sway. There is a broad, flat, spoon bow, differing very slightly on deck from the stern, and not differing at all on the water-line, so that it is practically immaterial which end is selected to go first. There are the same segments of large circles for buttock lines. The load-water-line is 17 ft. 3 in., and on deck 29 ft., the overhang being very nearly equal at each end. The beam is 7 ft., and the extreme draught of the short fixed keel, which is spiked to the bottom of the spoon, is 3 ft. 2 in., with 23 cwt. of lead. The latter is disposed at the bottom of the keel in a triangular bulb. If you take an ordinary tablespoon and press it into a soft substance at different inclinations, the water-lines which it will mark are much the same. The principle is the same in the 'Castanet.' The water-lines lengthen and narrow as she heels over, and the length at which she is measured when upright is considerably exceeded at both ends. The spoon comparison is only to a certain extent applicable, as one end of a spoon is smaller than the other, while in the case of the 'Castanet' both ends are large ends. There is no deadwood except what is necessary for the keel, and the rudder is a projecting one. Mollett's theory is that it is better to cut away every inch of deadwood which is not absolutely necessary for preventing leeway. He finds the boats so constructed sail faster in every way. As to whether a fin-keel or a weighted centreboard is the better, he has not yet made up his mind. [Illustration: Hull of the 'Castanet.'] The 'Castanet,' although beaten in her first race by the 'Gladys,' a boat of conventional design, has subsequently proved herself the fastest of her class. When sailing fast she lifts herself out of the water forward and slides very easily over it, although her flat bow makes a noisy brabble of the surface water, which is, however, not detrimental to her speed. Of course she would not do in rough water, but in smooth she is stiff, fast, and remarkably handy. In spite of her square ends, which are but little narrower than the rest of the boat, she is, owing to excellence of workmanship, rather a handsome boat than otherwise. It is not likely that another 'Gossip' will be built, but the 'Castanet' is a taking precedent which may be followed up with advantage. There are other designers and builders of fast boats, which have, however, nothing peculiar in build or rig to justify especial notice. They are simply well-designed boats of light displacement and large sail-area, very fast and very handy. There are two boating clubs in existence which provide regattas for the encouragement of sailing. The senior and more select club is the Norfolk and Suffolk Yacht Club, which professedly holds races for the 9-and 10-tonners--the 'large yachts' of the Norfolk rivers. It has a club-house at Lowestoft which is a great convenience to yachtsmen using the harbour, but as a river club it has not much vitality. The junior club is the Yare Sailing Club, which welcomes all amateurs as members who can pay a 5_s._ subscription. It professedly encourages the sailing of open and half-decked boats, and the smaller class of yachts of 4 tons or thereabouts. It has a large number of members, most of them keen boat-sailers, and its regattas are well attended and the races numerously and keenly contested. The classes in the Norfolk and Suffolk Club are: Not exceeding 2-rating, exceeding 2 and under 5-rating, and exceeding 5-rating; and those in the Yare Sailing Club as follows:--Class I.--Exceeding 2-rating and not exceeding 5-rating. Class II.--Exceeding 1-rating and not exceeding 2-rating. Class III.--Not exceeding 1-rating. Any 'foreign' boats (all persons not natives of Norfolk are foreigners) which can sail in these classes are welcome, and any wrinkle they can teach will be quickly taken up. The 'Mystery,' a Thames open boat, is almost the only strange boat which has succeeded in showing the way to the local racers, and I think she would not be second to either 'Castanet' or 'Gladys.' It would be most interesting to see a match between the well-known Thames 'Ruby' and our Y.S.C. boats. Regattas are held at various points on the river, and there are, in addition, local regattas unconnected with clubs. [Illustration: 'Mystery,' Thames boat ('foreign' boat).] Once a year there is what is called an Ocean Match--that is, a match from Lowestoft to Harwich--on the Saturday before the regatta of the Royal Harwich Yacht Club. This is looked upon as a great adventure by the river boats, which tackle the sea under the cloud of canvas which is enough on the rivers. The trip to Harwich and back, and the excitement of bringing up in wide water, after the safety of a grassy margin, furnish food for many tales for the rest of the year. The _crux_ of the thing is the passage round the bleak Orfordness, where the tidal race raises a cruel sea if there is any wind; the great mainsails with their long booms cannot easily be reefed under way. One necessary rule upon these rivers sometimes causes trouble to strangers who are unaware of it. In the narrow reaches it is almost impossible to pass a boat to leeward, so if the overtaking boat can but get a few inches of her bowsprit overlapping to windward of the slower boat, the latter must give way and let the other pass to windward of her. Visitors often get nervous when they see a wherry bearing down upon them, but there is no occasion for them to do so. If the boat-sailer observes the rule of the road, he may be sure that the wherryman will do so. The latter are a very civil and obliging class of men, taking a keen interest in the doings of smaller craft and yachts. It is usual, however, for the yachtsman to remember that he is on pleasure bent and the wherryman on business, and he therefore gives way sometimes when not compelled to do so, to save the wherryman from having to put his craft about. In return the wherryman will often, when tacking, keep his craft shooting in stays to let a yacht beat past him. The wherries are so long and take up so much of the river when beating to windward that it is often very difficult to pass them at all unless they make this concession. The rowing boats which are hired by inexperienced people in great numbers at Oulton Broad are great sources of danger. The occupants generally go the wrong side of a sailing boat, and it is a wonder that accidents do not more often occur. Another source of difficulty are the anglers, who are very fond of mooring off the windward bank (where there is a quiet 'lee') well out in the channel, and perhaps at a 'scant' corner--that is, where the next reach being to windward the sailing vessels hug the corner as closely as possible in order to get a good shoot into the next reach and so save a tack. It does not do, however, to hug the corner too closely, as if it is at all shallow the way of the boat is deadened, though she may not actually touch the mud. The 'putty,' as the black soft mud of the river bottom is locally termed, plays an important part in sailing on Norfolk rivers. It serves sometimes to help a vessel to windward. Thus a wherry might not be able to hug the weather shore or to lay close enough to sail along the middle of a reach, but if she drops to the leeward shore the pressure of water between her bows and the mud will 'shoulder' her off and stop her leeway, so that she can drag round a corner and save a tack. Some of the wherrymen will say that they could not put their craft aground if they would while sailing sideways along the mud. The deeper-draught yachts do not reap this advantage to any extent. One of the things which make a yachtsman ask if life is worth living is to run hard on the putty. He gets out his quants and shoves; but the poles sink deep into the mud, and require more force to withdraw them than to drive them in. Those who know the river best seem to me to get oftenest aground, because they cut it too fine, and if their calculations are out by an inch or two they stick fast. The desperate struggles to get free are more amusing to other people than to the chief actors in the scene. How blessed is the sight under such circumstances of a friendly steam-launch! I remember well one heart-breaking experience of my own in a 4-ton yacht which I was sailing single-handed. I got aground in the Bure at Yarmouth in the awful place known as the North End, and with a falling tide. I got off at last, after exerting myself until my heart beat frantically, my mouth was parched, and my eyes dim; then seizing a bottle I supposed to contain beer, I tossed half a tumblerful down my throat ere I found it was _vinegar_! A good half of Oulton Broad is taken up by yachts lying at their moorings, which are buoys at a sufficient distance apart to give the boats room to swing. There appears to be some doubt as to what authority has the right to interfere, and so nothing is done; but a better plan would be to have proper mooring-places along the shore where yachts might moor in tier, a small charge being made for the privilege. Below Oulton Broad is Lake Lothing, a tidal lake communicating with Lowestoft Harbour. A lock gives access to it. Lowestoft Harbour is a most convenient one, easily entered at all states of the tide. A large basin is reserved for the use of yachts during the summer months, and from its easy facilities for a day's sail at sea or a run up the Broads in the dinghy or steam-launch it is yearly becoming more popular with yachtsmen. Leaving Oulton Broad and re-entering the Waveney, we find deep water right up to Beccles, which some sea-going trading vessels use as their port; but in the upper reaches the river is very narrow. It is, however, extremely pretty. Almost the last of the lateeners--the old 'Ariel'--hails from Beccles. On every Whit Monday there are great goings-on at Oulton. There is for one thing a regatta, and the Broad is literally crowded with boats; and for another it is the smacksman's yearly holiday, and he is very much in evidence both ashore and afloat. It is, however, but fair to say that the disgraceful scenes of drunkenness and fighting which formerly characterised Whit Monday are not so marked. The smacks' crews are now so well looked after by mission-ships afloat and Salvation Armies ashore that a most gratifying improvement has taken place in their manners and customs. [Illustration: A start.] On a Sunday morning it is interesting to stroll round by the fish wharves in Lowestoft and listen to the outdoor services and services on smacks, and note the intense earnestness animating the rough-looking seamen who are the speakers, and the respect with which they are listened to even by well-known rowdies. We leave Oulton Broad in company with several barges, and it is a race between us to get to Cantley, on the Yare, in time for a regatta of the Yare Sailing Club. Our wherry is gradually left behind by all the barges, but they have to wait at Herringfleet Bridge on account of a train, and as we come up just as the bridge is opened we are again on even terms with them, and are third out of six as the procession files along the narrow Haddiscoe Cut. At Reedham we meet the contingent of trading wherries which have started from Yarmouth with the flood, and several yachts on their way to Cantley, so that as we pass the picturesque village of Reedham and turn to windward up the broad reaches of the Yare the scene is a very animated one. At Cantley it is difficult to find a mooring-place, and the northward bank is lined with yachts for half a mile. After the regatta we can sail up a most interesting part of the river, by the pretty ferries of Buckenham, Coldham Hall, and Surlingham, exploring Rockland and Surlingham Broads in the dinghy, and so on up to Norwich, just below which city the riverside scenery is most beautiful. The rapidly increasing popularity of the Broads has given a great impetus to the trade of boat-letting, and the agencies are too numerous to mention. It may be useful, however, to say that, just as Loynes has made Wroxham a well-known starting point, so Bullen, of Oulton Broad, has done the same by the latter water. He owns or has the command of a large number of yachts and barges, some of which are suitable for Holland. At Norwich Messrs. Hart & Son, of Thorpe, have a similar agency, and the fishing-tackle makers and secretaries of yacht and sailing clubs keep lists of yachts to let. An advertisement in the 'Eastern Daily Press' will elicit replies. Also, if any reader of this article chooses to write to me at Norwich, stating what kind of craft he wants, _and enclosing a stamp_, I will forward the letter to a suitable yacht agent. I will not, however, undertake to reply to any letter, because in one or two of my boys' books I promised to do so, and the consequence is I get a recurring crop of letters from boys in many parts of the world, which are excessively inconvenient to a busy man, although it would be unkind not to reply to them. To sum up, the rivers of Norfolk and Suffolk, with Oulton, Wroxham, Barton, and Hickling Broads, are most excellent cruising grounds for small yachts and sailing boats; and as for racing, I really think that 'foreign' boats, if their owners would remember that light displacement and a gigantic spread of canvas are essentials, would have an excellent chance of lowering the pride of the local men. The power of quick turning is, of course, a _sine quâ non_. [Illustration: In the gloaming.] Practically the chief interest of the Broads to visitors lies in their cruising advantages rather than the yacht racing to be obtained or seen; and it may serve a useful purpose to go more into detail as to the nature and cost of the craft to be hired for cruising, and to give itineraries of short cruises. While yachts can be hired at Norwich, Wroxham, Yarmouth, and Oulton Broad, the business is more scientifically carried on at Wroxham and Oulton than elsewhere, and the convenience of visitors more thoroughly consulted by the persons already named as catering for the public there. The class of craft is also rather different. At Oulton there are for comfort the usual barges and wherries, and for fast sailing the usual four to ten tonners of the smart type already described. At Wroxham a fleet has been built consisting of vessels chiefly designed for ease of handling and comfort of camping and cruising, without any pretensions to racing speed. They are also of shallower draught than the Oulton boats, and have as a rule centreboards instead of the deep fixed keels of the others. It is, therefore, a matter of individual taste, and further comparisons would be invidious and perhaps unjust. With the deeper yachts it is customary to explore the shallower Broads in the jolly, while the smaller centreboards can be taken there. Those who chiefly love the science of sailing will prefer one sort, and those who delight most in exploring every lilied pool and in camping will prefer the other. It is unfortunate, perhaps, to have to mention names in a book not intended to advertise persons whom it will probably survive, and it may seem unjust to other meritorious traders in the same line; but in the interest of the reader it has to be admitted that Bullen of Oulton and Loynes of Wroxham have taken too prominent a part in the exploration of the Broads for us to shirk mentioning them, any more than we can avoid naming the chief builders and designers. None of Loynes' craft draw more than 3 ft. 6 in., and they range from twenty-three tons downwards. The largest will sleep four ladies and four gentlemen. The cost of hire is from 10_l._ to 12_l._ 10_s._ per week, according to the season, the height of the season being July and August. The hire includes two men, who are boarded by the hirers. This boarding of the men is rather a nuisance, but it is so much the custom that attempts to make the men board themselves, paying them increased wages, do not answer on the rivers. The 4-ton boats will sleep three, and the hire per week with attendant is 4_l._ 10_s._, and without an attendant 3_l._ 15_s._ All household necessaries are supplied, and visitors need only bring rugs, towels, and provisions. At Oulton, Bullen has a number of craft, ranging from a large pleasure wherry accommodating twelve persons, and let at 12_l._ per week, to the typical 10- and 5-tonners. He has also several of the barge yachts, now so fashionable. One of them, the 'Ianthe,' has been twice to Holland, crossing the North Sea with safety, notwithstanding the shallow draught and large sail, with heavy mast set well forward. Bullen says that, for gentlemen who wish to get plenty of sailing, his 10-tonners are the best, but for ladies who require comfort and real pleasure the barge yachts or wherries are preferable. A fortnight is required to do all the rivers and Broads properly, although much may be done in a week if the winds and weather are favourable. With only a week to spare, it would be best to stick to the North river, or Bure. Thus, if starting from Oulton, Norwich, or Yarmouth, sail straight away to Wroxham, say two days' journey; on the third day back to Horning and up the coast to Barton Broad; fourth and fifth days up the Thurne to Potter Heigham, and do Hickling and Horsey Mere; sixth and seventh back to the starting point. Much depends, however, whether the object of the cruise is to loiter about and fish, or to sail and cover the ground. In the latter case the following is an itinerary I have carried out in a week. [Illustration: Birds of a feather.] Starting from Wroxham, Yarmouth can be reached the first day; second day up the Yare to Norwich; third day Norwich to Oulton Broad; fourth day up the Waveney to Beccles; fifth day Beccles to Yarmouth; sixth day Yarmouth to Potter Heigham; seventh day do Hickling Broad in the morning, and sail up to Wroxham in the evening. A dead calm, or a combination of head wind and adverse tide, might, however, upset the plan by a day. It would be well, therefore, to stipulate in the hire that the yacht might be left short of its destination, to be taken back by the man. Most people will take fishing tackle with them on a cruise on the Broads, but I hope everybody will leave their guns at home. The incessant popping away with shot-guns and pea-rifles is quite useless in results, very annoying to riparian owners, and very dangerous to the public. A camera is a much better weapon. Few districts offer better or more artistic subjects for the photographer's skill. A dark room is provided upon some of the pleasure wherries, and the tripod is almost as common an object on the marshes as the windmills. [Illustration: Commodore Stevens, founder of the New York Yacht Club, 1844.] CHAPTER VI YACHTING IN AMERICA BY LEWIS HERRESHOFF The degree of leisure and wealth, so essential to the development of yachting, was not realised by the citizens of the American seaboard until nearly one-third of this century had passed, and even then only a mere handful of nautically inclined sportsmen could spare time from the stern duties of country settling and fortune-hunting to follow in any measure their tastes in seeking pleasure on the alluring waters that flowed at their very feet. It must not be supposed, however, that our ancestors took absolutely no pleasure in sailing; they had their pirogues and other small craft which were kept ostensibly for trade, but which served the double purpose of affording gain and pleasure. In the traditions of my ancestry I learn of a small boat kept by one who used her to visit an island farm, whence he brought produce; and another would sail down the bay (Narragansett) for the love of it, but largely to meet and pilot up the tortuous channel his returning vessels from their coastwise trade. No people were ever more advantageously situated for yachting, as to frequency of harbours and tempting conditions of water and weather, than are the dwellers on the eastern seaboard of North America. True that the season for yachting is from May to November only in the more northerly portions (north of Hampton Roads); but if a genuine yachtsman takes in five months of his beloved sport, it will be found that the remaining seven will be none too long to talk over the exploits of the past season, and prepare and plan for the coming. [Illustration: R.Y.S. Cup, won by the 'America,' 1851.] As the character of water and weather that surround a locality has a direct bearing and influence on the form and rig of yacht, it is thought that a short sketch of the coast and its surrounding waters will be of interest. The shores of Maine, as well as those of the British Provinces, present one of the most interesting fields for yachting that can be found in the whole continent of North America. The deeply indented coastline and numerous outlying islands afford endless variety in scenery as well as in the surface of the water. Choice may be had between sheltered bays and the open sea. The atmosphere during the first half of the yachting season is somewhat obscured by fogs, but after July the air is clear and bracing, with pleasant breezes from the sea during the day, and land winds during the night from north-west. Tidal currents are swift and the change of level is large, particularly on the shores of the provinces, ranging from 10 ft. or 12 ft. at Portland to far more as one sails eastward, whilst in the Bay of Fundy the rise and fall often reach 50 ft. Moving southerly, good yachting ground will be found from Cape Anne to Cape Cod; the waters thus included are fairly smooth in summer with harbours available every few miles, the shores being fully occupied by summer resorts where the visitors are, as a rule, yacht-owners, or deeply interested in aquatic sports. In fact, this locality, embracing Massachusetts and Cape Cod Bays, with their many inlets and harbours (the chief being Boston Harbour), is the scene of more yacht racing and boat racing than any other sheet of water in America, as evidence of which some of the open regattas often start no fewer than 130 yachts and boats varying from 15 ft. to 50 ft. in length. The winds off the coast of Massachusetts are moderate, twelve to fifteen miles an hour, easterly in the early part of the season, and south-west during the summer, with north-west in the autumn. Tidal currents are moderately strong, with range of level from 6 ft. to 10 ft., fogs are infrequent and short in duration. After rounding Cape Cod, Nantucket Sound is entered, a large semi-enclosed sheet of water full of sand shoals, amongst which the tide rushes to and fro with great speed, and whilst it is always traversed by yachts and trading vessels, it cannot be said to be strictly a favourable yachting ground, although sail-boats of shoal draught may be seen sailing for pleasure or fishing, which pastimes are enjoyed by the visitors that flock to the island of Nantucket and the adjacent mainland during the summer season. Fogs are very dense and frequent during nearly, the whole of the yachting season; the winds are more fresh than in Massachusetts Bay, and usually are from south to south-west, except in autumn when north or north-west may be expected. From the foregoing we sail directly into Martha's Vineyard Sound, where strong winds and tidal currents are found, with fewer obstructions in way of shoals than in Nantucket Sound. On the right of Martha's Vineyard Sound lie the Elizabeth Islands, some of which are picturesque. The nearest one to the mainland at Wood's Holl, called Naushon, is owned by several of the Forbes family, who for many years have been--and still are--most interested and intelligent patrons of yachting; and in one of the most beautiful little harbours on the north side of Naushon may be seen their fleet of yachts, lying at the safest of anchorages, often a dozen, some sailing vessels, and others steam. Through many of the passages between the Elizabeth Islands access may be had to Buzzard's Bay, whose shores are everywhere dotted with the houses of summer dwellers, singly and in small villages; so it goes without saying that yachting; or more correctly boating, is the chief pastime, and no more agreeable field can be found for it, save perhaps the adjoining Bay of Narragansett, which without doubt is the paradise of yachtsmen. The winds of Buzzard's Bay are fresh, even strong, and seeing that its expanse is unbroken by islands, it is often rough--perhaps too rough for pleasure-sailing in boats of the size usually seen; but in Narragansett Bay, though the winds are fresh its waters are not so rough, as its many islands prevent in a great measure the formation of waves uncomfortably large. Here, as in Buzzard's Bay, the tidal currents are moderate and change of level from 4 ft. to 6 ft.; fogs are less frequent than in Buzzard's Bay, and are never long in duration. In the ocean, directly south from the mouth of Narragansett Bay, lies the most favoured spot on the entire coast for yacht racing, and for the last forty-five years it has been the scene of the most interesting races held away from the racing grounds at the approach to New York Bay; but for the best results of racing no place on the coast is equal to it, its winds are fresh and constant, its tidal currents are moderate and regular in their time and direction, so that little advantage can be had by one familiar with the locality over those who are not. Few 'flukey' days can be remembered off Newport, and year after year the races there are becoming more and more important, as the waters in New York Harbour and its approaches become crowded, and as yachtsmen seek more open water than exists in the vicinity of New York. Twenty miles west of Narragansett Bay, Long Island Sound is entered; it is a glorious expanse of water, more than one hundred miles long and having an average width of fifteen miles; it is a thoroughfare for an enormous traffic, and in the season yachting and boating are most successfully and agreeably followed. Its tidal currents are generally moderate; in a few places they are swift; fogs are infrequent. South of Long Island, and protected from the sea by a narrow spit of sand, are several shallow bays on which boating is largely followed; proximity to New York makes this shore sought for as a summer resort, and as boating is the only thing to be done in way of pastime, it is small wonder that so many boats are to be seen. The harbour of New York with its approaches, and surrounding waters of the East and Hudson Rivers, are all splendid ground for sailing; but, seeing that traffic has so taken possession of nearly every available spot, yachting is forced into the more distant waters of the lower bay, and those parts of the Hudson less frequented by trading vessels. That part of the sea east and south of the Sandy Hook Lightship is a famous racing ground, and is destined to become even more so as competing yachts find the crowded waters of even the lower bay unsuitable for a just comparison of the speed of their vessels. The sea-coast of New Jersey, like that of Long Island, has many inlets leading to sheltered, shallow bays, where may be seen numberless small yachts and sail-boats from 40 ft. in length downward to the most unpretentious cat-boat. Delaware Bay and River are well adapted for yachting, but few large yachts are to be seen there, the dwellers in that section being content with boats and small sloop yachts. Chesapeake Bay is a noble stretch of water that is almost unknown to the yachtsman. Its advantages are many, and in the near future it is to be hoped that the inhabitants along its shores will avail themselves of so fortunate an opportunity for sailing with more agreeable conditions than exist anywhere south of New York Bay. Fogs are rare and tidal currents slight, except when induced by a constant high wind either up or down the bay; the rise and fall also from purely tidal causes are very small. Hampton Roads and tributary waters are all well adapted for yachting and boating, but all their reputation as a yachting centre has yet to be made. For boats or small yachts there exists an inland watercourse through the Canal of the Dismal Swamp from Hampton Roads to the chain of sounds that skirt the sea-coast of the Carolinas, the waters of which are for the most part shallow, but well suited for small sailing craft, and more particularly for small steam yachts drawing less than 6 ft. of water. Albemarle, the most southerly of these sounds, is broad and deep, and well adapted for the navigation of yachts of the largest tonnage. Access to the ocean may be had at Hatteras Inlet, or still farther south for smaller vessels at Morehead City, where the navigator must take to the open sea if he would continue his voyage still farther to the south. More than 200 miles of open ocean must be passed before Charleston, South Carolina, is reached, which port is well suited for small yachts and sail-boats, many of both classes being already in use as purely pleasure craft. Southward from Charleston is good ground for sail-boats and small steam yachts, numerous islands forming protected channels through which one may pass as far south as Savannah in Georgia. At Brunswick, in the same state, is a bay with a large area of protected water formed by the shelter of islands in which yachts of modest size thrive, but apart from convenience for shooting and fishing little use is made of any craft unless by the more venturesome tourists from the Northern States. Florida is more the home of the steam yacht than of the sailing craft; you may ascend St. John's River for a distance of 260 miles in a steam yacht; at a few places where this beautiful stream swells into a lake boating may be pursued with no small degree of satisfaction. In the Bay of St. Augustine one finds many small yachts and a very agreeable place to sail them, a yacht club, and many evidences of civilisation in the way of opportunities for sport and pleasure-seeking. There is also in Florida an extended system of inland navigation, which at present is but partly developed; soon, however, the entire length from north to south may be traversed in a vessel of moderate draught. Of course steam-yachting in such situations is by far the most satisfactory. The Gulf Coast in general does not present a very favourable field for yachting except under steam; in summer it is too hot, and in winter the winds are not steady nor well suited to the taste of the average yachtsman. There is a deal of semi-protected water along the shores of Mississippi and Louisiana, and also some at widely separated bays in Texas, so that, with a few exceptions, yachting has not been established; at New Orleans, however, there is a yacht club that has for its field some of the large inland lakes where yachts of moderate size can be used with satisfaction. The Pacific coast is not well designed for yachting on account of the extreme infrequency of harbours, and the generally rough sea found off the coast from Puget's Sound as far south as Point Conception. Puget's Sound is said to be a most favourable place for all marine sports, fishing and shooting as well as yachting; it is surely large enough, and also there is no lack of depth of water, but some time must elapse before the dwellers along its shores will find sufficient time and money to indulge in any pastime. The Bay of San Francisco is well adapted for yachting with vessels of moderate size, the winds are mostly from seaward and are strong, even more so in summer than in winter. There is a yacht club in San Francisco with a large membership and a goodly number of yachts, but most of their sailing is done inside. The scarcity of coal, and consequent large cost, seems to hinder the introduction of steam yachts, but a large number of naphtha launches are used with evident satisfaction. South of Point Conception the conditions are far more favourable for yachting than in the north; but the want of good harbours, well distributed, will always serve as a block to the sport. It is true that, owing to the wonderfully quiet waters, a shelter is not essential, for a gale of dangerous force is a rarity from a direction that would render anchorage unsafe; but it is the unceasing swell of the ocean that renders landing difficult, and makes felt the absence of a harbour over at least two-thirds of the coast from Santa Barbara to San Diego. Santa Barbara channel is a charming expanse of water which in summer is admirably calculated to afford great pleasure to the lover of yachting. Fogs are rare, winds steady and moderate in force from S.S.W.; but in winter there is such an entire absence of wind that sailing is wholly impracticable. On the islands that form the southerly limit of Santa Barbara channel may be found several pretty harbours with most interesting surroundings in scenery, as well as fine fishing and shooting. Forty miles eastward of the Santa Barbara Islands lies the beautiful island of Santa Katalina, where there is a fine harbour for small yachts; and as this island is somewhat removed from the influences of the ocean it may become, in the near future, a favourite centre for all aquatic sports. San Pedro, the port of Los Angeles, has what passes for a harbour, in which may be seen a few yachts and smaller pleasure craft, the embryo squadron of the Los Angeles Yacht Club. San Diego boasts of the finest harbour in South California, and, taken in connection with the neighbouring islands, it is truly a very attractive spot for yachting, which, as yet, has not made much advancement; but by the recent organisation of a yacht club it is hoped that the sport will become well established, and afford pleasure to the many tourists who flock to that blessed climate, where sun and air invite one to spend one's days in comfort and in love with all nature. It will be years, however, before yachting on the Pacific coast will have reached anything like the proportion that it has assumed in the east. It will be easily seen that the Atlantic coast of the United States and British Provinces offers the greatest facilities for both boating and yachting. In almost every situation there can be found large areas of sheltered and semi-sheltered water specially suitable for small yachts and boats; and it is at once seen that all these expanses of protected water are easily accessible from the open ocean, where those disposed and properly provided may find as large a range of sailing or cruising as their fancy or means will admit. The very favourable distribution of wind, the infrequency of fogs, and the rarity of storms during the yachting season, all combine to make the conditions for general yachting as advantageous as possible--in fact, nothing more perfect could be found even if we search the world over. From June 1 to the middle of September only one storm of any importance may be expected; it is from the north-east, lasting two days, and occurs about August 20. About the middle of September a gale from the south-east is expected, but it is short in duration, not over eight hours, and if other storms come from the east or north-east, they are always foretold two or more days in advance by the Weather Bureau, prompt notice of them being published in every daily paper in the section threatened; north-east, east, north-west storms are always heralded by the same office; the south-east storms are the only ones that come unforetold. Thunderstorms and sudden squalls are becoming more and more infrequent on the northern and middle Atlantic coast. It is thought that the settling of the country, with its network of railways and telephonic wires, exerts a dispersing influence on all local electrical storms; but, be that as it may, they are now little felt where once they were of almost daily occurrence in the height of summer. The generally quiet character of the water available for yachting, and the prevailing pleasant weather with moderate winds, combined to influence the form and rig of boats and yachts in use for the first half of this century, and if one carefully examines the situation, it will be found that the style of pleasure craft chiefly in vogue was well adapted to the requirements of the then yachtsman; but as years passed, new influences were at work and new requirements sought for, so that to-day the build and rig of boats and yachts used by our ancestry seem likely to disappear, save perhaps in certain localities where the shoal draught must be considered, as along the south shore of Long Island, the coast of New Jersey, and in much of the waters of the Southern States. In illustration of the effect that winds and waters have on the form and rig of yachts, one need only compare the yachts in England with those in America. The conditions of weather and sea are as different in the two countries as are their vessels; but it must also be admitted that the rules of time allowance arranged to equalise yachts of different size in racing has also had large influence in separating so widely the form of yachts in the two countries, a difference which, under the newest order of rules and intercourse, is rapidly disappearing. The history of yachting in America begins with the brilliant career of the Stevens brothers, notably the elder of the three, John C., whose life and labour seem to have been devoted to the development of the best type of vessel for pleasure. He may justly be called the father of yachting. The Stevenses lived in Hoboken, and in the early years of this century to cross the Hudson to New York by the established ferry boat was slow and uncertain, so naturally the Stevens brothers had each his own boat, and crossed the river by his own skill, either by sail or oar. Through ferrying themselves over the river, they became very skilful in the management of boats, and the love and talent thus awakened were held by them all their lives. The first craft of any importance owned by John C. Stevens was 'Diver,' built in 1809, but of her there exists no record, save the fact of her being 20 ft. long. He built 'Trouble,' in 1816; she was a pirogue, a style of vessel much in vogue in those days, 56 ft. long, two masts, one in the extreme bow, the other a little aft of amidships, with no bowsprit or jib. Her mid-section is here shown; she was wide and flat, with a round, full bow, and was said to be very fast for that class of craft; she has the honour of being the first yacht in America, and without doubt was a comfortable seaworthy vessel, but was soon put aside by her progressive master, who in the following fifteen years built and owned several craft of various sizes and rig. [Illustration: A Pirogue built about 1816. Mast stepped close to bow. Length on W.L. 56 Ft. 'Trouble,' midship section.] It seems to have been a passion of Mr. Stevens to experiment. Indeed, this striving for something better was the key-note of his life, and a boon to yachting, since the science of naval architecture made very rapid progress during his career; for he died having carried the form of vessels from their rude model in early times to the vastly improved 'Maria,' which famous yacht stands as a monument to his skill and determination to improve. One of the fancies of Mr. Stevens was a catamaran, or a boat with two hulls. She was built in 1820 and named 'Double Trouble.' The sides of the hulls toward the centre were parallel. But the old 'Trouble' beat her easily, and she was laid aside to make room for something new and better. In 1832 Mr. Stevens built the schooner 'Wave'; she was 65 ft. water-line and proved to be fast. She visited Boston in 1835 and 1836, and beat all yachts she found there. [Illustration: 'Maria,' sloop, 1846, midship section.] 'Wave' was sold to the United States Government in 1838, and used in the Revenue Marine Service. Her section is here given. About this same date other yachts began to appear. The schooner 'Dream' was built in New York by Webb & Allen; her length was 47 ft. over all, and she was a well-known yacht, until 1855, when she was lost near Bridgeport, Connecticut. The schooner 'Sylph' was built in Boston in 1833 by Wetmore & Holbrook, for John P. Cushing, and finally sold to R. B. Forbes. After he sold 'Wave,' Mr. Stevens brought out 'Onkahya,' a schooner, in 1839; her tonnage was 250, length on water-line 91 ft. [Illustration: Built by Bell & Brown 1832. Foot Houston St East River, Length on W.L. 65 Ft. 'Wave,' midship section.] 'Onkahya' was a departure from other craft in many respects, some of which may be seen in her mid-section here shown. Her keel was of iron, which gave her unusual stability, and her bow was long and fine to a degree. She was but a moderate success as a racer, but was a very good cruiser, having made a voyage to the West Indies. She was sold to the United States Government in 1843. After five years' service under the Revenue Marine flag, 'Onkahya' was lost on the Caicos Reefs, West Indies. Mr. Stevens next appeared on board 'Gimcrack,' a schooner built in June, 1844, by William Capes, of Hoboken, and designed by George Steers. She was about 51 ft. extreme length, and 49 ft. on water-line, 13 ft. 6 in. beam, 5 ft. 2 in. deep, and drew 7-1/2 ft. of water. Her chief peculiarity was a sort of fixed centreboard of heavy plate-iron--in short, like the fin-keel of to-day, only without being loaded with lead at the lower edge. This fin was 4 ft. wide, and 12 ft. or 15 ft. long. [Illustration: 'Onkahya,' midship section.] 'Gimcrack' was not wholly satisfactory to her owner, but served for three years; several years later she was broken up at Oyster Bay, Long Island. No model or drawings of her now exist. The little cabin of 'Gimcrack' has the honour of being the birthplace of the New York Yacht Club, an organisation that has done vastly more than anything else to foster a love of yachting, and to promote progress in naval architecture. On its roll is entered the name of every noted yachtsman in America, and every important yacht has at one time or another been the property of one or more of its members. The story of the formation of the New York Yacht Club is best told by reading the minutes of the first important meeting, and as it has such a direct bearing on the progress of yachting, it is here given in full:-- MINUTES OF THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB On board of the 'Gimcrack,' off the Battery (New York Harbour), July 30, 1844, 5.30 P.M. According to previous notice, the following gentlemen assembled for the purpose of organising a Yacht Club, viz.: John C. Stevens, Hamilton Wilkes, William Edgar, John C. Jay, George L. Schuyler, Louis A. Depaw, George B. Rollins, James M. Waterbury, James Rogers, and on motion it was resolved to form a Yacht Club. On motion it was resolved that the title of the club be The New York Yacht Club. On motion it was resolved that the gentlemen present be the original members of the club. On motion it was resolved that John C. Stevens be the Commodore of the club. On motion it was resolved that a committee of five be appointed by the Commodore to report rules and regulations for the government of the club. The following gentlemen were appointed, viz.: John C. Stevens, George L. Schuyler, John C. Jay, Hamilton Wilkes, and Captain Rogers. On motion it was resolved that the club make a cruise to Newport, Rhode Island, under command of the Commodore. The following yachts were represented at this meeting, viz.: 'Gimcrack,' John C. Stevens; 'Spray,' Hamilton Wilkes; 'Cygnet,' William Edgar; 'La Coquille,' John C. Jay; 'Dream,' George L. Schuyler; 'Mist,' Louis A. Depaw; 'Minna,' George B. Rollins; 'Adda,' Captain Rogers. After appointing Friday, August 2, at 9 A.M., the time for sailing on the cruise, the meeting adjourned. JOHN C. JAY, Recording Secretary. The New York Yacht Club soon showed vitality, energy, and power, as the following reports of the first matches will clearly show what amateur and Corinthian crews could do in those days. 'None but members to sail and handle their yachts' was the rule, and Commodore Stevens's big sloop 'Maria,' a winner in 1848, was 160 tons. [Illustration: 'Gimcrack.' _Mr. J. Stevens_, 1844.] FIRST AMATEUR CORINTHIAN REGATTA OF THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB OCTOBER 6, 1846 For a Cup subscribed for by members of the New York Yacht Club. None but members to sail and handle their yachts. The allowance of time on this occasion was reduced to 45 seconds per ton Custom House measurement. The course was from a stake boat (the 'Gimcrack') anchored off the Club House, Elysian Fields; thence to and around a stake boat anchored off Fort Washington Point; thence to and around a stake boat anchored in the Narrows (off Fort Hamilton), turning it from the eastward and return to the place of starting. Whole distance 40 miles. SECOND AMATEUR CORINTHIAN REGATTA OF THE NEW YORK YACHT CLUB OCTOBER 12, 1847 _Over the New York Yacht Club Course_ By a resolution passed at the second general meeting, July 13, 1847, it was decided by members, not yacht-owners, that on the second Tuesday in October, a regatta should take place for a prize made by their subscription, the yachts to be manned and sailed exclusively by members, allowing each boat 'yacht' a pilot. The following gentlemen were appointed a committee to regulate the regatta, with full power to postpone if the weather should prove unfavourable. EDWARD CEUTER. LEWIS M. RUTHERFURD. NATHANIEL P. HOSSACK. _October 6, 1846._--_Corinthian Regatta of New York Yacht Club--Club Course Entries and Record of the Regatta_ +--------+-----------+------------------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+-------+ | | | | | | S. | L. | S.W. | House | | Rig | Name | Owner |Tonnage| Start | Island | Island | Spit | stake | | | | | | | | | | boat | +--------+-----------+------------------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+-------+ |Schooner|Gimcrack |John C. Stevens | 25 |10.00.00|12.19.23| -- | -- | -- | | " |Dream |George L. Schuyler| 28 |10.02.00| -- | -- | -- | -- | | " |Spray |Hamilton Wilkes | 37 |10.04.00|12.04.55|12.12.10| -- |4.28.28| | " |Cygnet |John R. Snydam | 45 |10.06.00|12.06.35|12.13.52| -- | -- | | Sloop |Una |J. M. Waterbury | 59 |10.08.00|11.40.11|11.47.00|1.28.43|3.43.40| |Schooner|Siren |W. E. Miller | 72 |10.10.00|12.07.02|12.14.22|2.02.05|4.23.00| | " |Cornelia |William Edgar | 94 |10.12.00|12.21.11| -- | -- | -- | +--------+-----------+------------------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+-------+ 'The Dream,' 'Gimcrack,' 'Cygnet,' and 'Cornelia' did not finish. The 'Una' won the prize--a Silver Cup. Wind fresh from the West during the race. _October 12, 1847._--_Corinthian Regatta of New York Yacht Club--Club Course Entries and Record of the Regatta_ +--------+-----------+------------------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+-------+ | | | | | |Fort Wa-| | | Actual| | Rig | Name | Owner |Tonnage| Start |shington| Narrow |Finish | time | | | | | | |Point | | | | +--------+-----------+------------------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+-------+ | Sloop |_Maria_ |John C. Stevens | 160 |10.58.20|11.54.00| 2.38.10|4.02.45|5.04.25| | " |Lancet |George B. Rollins | 20 |10.00.00|10.54.00| -- |4.36.09|6.36.09| |Schooner|_Siren_ |W. E. Miller | 72 |10.21.40|11.17.00| 2.48.55|4.24.20|6.02.40| | " |Cygnet |D. L. Snydam | 45 |10.10.45|11.05.00| 2.38.00|4.26.15|6.15.30| | " |Spray |Hamilton Wilkes | 37 |10.07.05|11.01.00| 2.40.00|4.28.31|6.21.26| | " |La Coquille|John C. Jay | 27 |10.02.35|10.58.00| 2.45.00|4.29.12|6.26.27| +--------+-----------+------------------+-------+--------+--------+--------+-------+-------+ This was 'Maria's' first race. The tide at starting was at the last of the flood, tide turning ebb at 12 m. Wind strong from S.W. The 'Maria' won, beating the 'Siren.' { GEORGE L. SCHUYLER. Sailing Committee { ANDREW FOSTER, JUN. { WILLIAM E. LAIGHT. [Illustration: Model Room of New York Yacht Club. (_From Photograph sent by J. V. S. Oddie._)] The formation of the New York Yacht Club was followed by a rapid augmentation of the yachting fleet, and general interest seemed to be suddenly awakened in the sport. The attention of designers and builders became centred on pleasure craft, so that in the first five years of the life of the club several new builders and designers came into public notice. Foremost among them was George Steers, who showed marked ability in designing; indeed, it is not too much to say that his ideas in naval architecture and construction were a guide in the art for many years. Some of his best known yachts of this period were 'La Coquille,' schooner, 1842, length 44 ft. 6 in.; 'Cygnet,' schooner, 53 ft. 2 in., 1844; 'Cornelia,' schooner, 1847, length over all 74 ft.; 'Gimcrack,' before mentioned. In 1846 Winde & Clinckard, of New York, built 'Coquette,' schooner, length 66 ft.; she made the passage from Boston to New York in 29 hrs., and returned in 28 hrs. 'Brenda,' schooner, was turned out by the same builders in 1845; she was 48 ft. over all. She visited Bermuda in May 1849, and on the 14th of that month sailed there a match with 'Pearl,' beating her 55 secs., this being the first international race found in any American record. The schooner 'Spray,' was built by Brown & Bell, of New York, in 1844; her length was 49 ft. 8 in. over all. Commodore Stevens contented himself with 'Gimcrack' for three years, during which time he was evidently accumulating strength for a great stroke in yachting, which in the autumn of 1847 culminated in his last and by far the most famous yacht, the sloop 'Maria,' the largest pleasure craft of her class ever built in this or any country. George Steers assisted the Commodore in designing, and during the winter of 1847 and 1848 she was built by William Capes in Hoboken. Sloop 'Maria' was originally 92 ft. long on water-line, she had the full round entrance and gradually tapering after body, a style popularly known as the 'cod head and mackerel tail,' a form that prevailed generally in all vessels up to about this date. After two years Commodore Stevens became tired of the full round bow of 'Maria,' and in 1850 she was lengthened forward, so that she became 110 ft. on water-line, and 116 ft. on deck. 'Maria' was such a departure from accepted rules, and became so well known in all yachting circles, that a full description of her is deemed worthy of record in these pages. Her beam was 26 ft. 6 in., 8 ft. 3 in. depth of hold, 5 ft. 2 in., draught of water at stern, and 8 in. forward. She had two centreboards, a small one near the stern to aid in steering, and the large board 24 ft. long in the usual position; this main board was of iron and lead, weighing over seven tons. When first launched 'Maria's' centreboard was not pivoted, but worked in a vertical line, both ends being dropped to the same depth. The great weight of this board was partly balanced by two large spiral springs, one at either end, which were extended when the board was lowered. Length of mast 92 ft., 2 ft. 8 in. in diameter at deck, and 1 ft. 11 in. at hounds; it was a hollow spar, being bored out, for the first 20 ft. having a hole 12 in. in diameter; for the next 20 ft. 10 in., and above that the bore was 7 in. Her main boom was 95 ft. long, 2 ft. 7 in. in diameter and 2 ft. 4 in. at the slings; it was built up with staves like a barrel, inside it was a system of truss-work with long tension-rods reaching nearly to the ends. Length of main gaff 61 ft., with a diameter of 2 ft. 2 in. Her bowsprit had an extreme length of 38 ft., with a diameter of 2 ft.; it entered the hull of the yacht below deck, leaving the deck space above all free and clear; there was also a jibboom which materially lengthened the bowsprit, so that the point where the jib-stay was attached was 70 ft. from the mast. Area of mainsail, 5,790 sq. ft.; the cloths of this were placed parallel to the boom, the bighting running fore and aft instead of vertically as usual. It was thought by the Commodore and his brothers Robert and Edward, who were equally interested with him in the ownership of the yacht, that a sail thus constructed offered less opposition to the passage of wind than a sail made in the usual style; but the plan was open to objections, so that it never became popular. Her jib presented 2,100 ft. of surface, leach 69 ft.; its foot, 70 ft.; foot of mainsail, 94 ft.; hoist, 66 ft.; head, 60 ft.; and leach, 110 ft. 'Maria' had a working topsail, but it was rarely set. [Illustration: 'Black Maria,' Sloop, beating 'America,' Schooner, in Test Race, New York, 1850. _132 tons._ _Built 1848._ (_Commodore Stevens, N.Y.Y.C._) (_Contributed by E. A. Stevens, of Hoboken, U.S.A._)] Commodore Stevens with his famous craft took part in many races and matches during the first six years of 'Maria's' life; she usually beat all her competitors, the few failures she suffered being attributable to the failure of one or other of some new devices in her rigging or fittings; for her owners were for ever trying something new in way of experiment. At one time the ballast of 'Maria' was disposed in a layer on the outside of her planking, the lead being about 2 in. thick at the rabbit and tapering to a half-inch about half-way out to the turn of the bilge. 'Maria' had several test matches with the schooner 'America,' just before that vessel departed on her eventful voyage to England in 1851; 'Maria' usually beat the schooner easily, particularly in smooth sea and moderate wind. It is related of 'Maria' that on one day when conditions favoured her she sailed three times completely around 'America' in a comparatively short distance, which performance forms the subject of a spirited picture here given. After the death of Commodore Stevens, and when 'Maria' was the property of his brother Edward, the yacht was lengthened about 6 ft. or 7 ft., and finally rigged as a schooner. She was then sold and used in the fruit trade, making voyages to the coast of Honduras; but in October 1870, as she was bound to New York with a load of cocoa-nuts, a storm overtook her when in the vicinity of Hatteras, in which she succumbed, and vessel and crew were never more heard of. James Waterbury was also a prominent yachtsman in those early days. The sloop 'Una' was built for him in 1847 by George Steers, 64 ft. long, lengthened in 1851 to 68 ft., and again in 1854 to 71 ft. 9 in.; tonnage, 70. The sloop 'Julia' was built for Mr. Waterbury in 1854 by George Steers, and designed by Nelson Spratt; her length was 78 ft. 8 in. extreme, and 70 ft. on water-line. This wonderful vessel seems to have sprung into existence by chance; her designer was a quiet, obscure man, whose ideas of naval architecture appear to have been far in advance of his time. [Illustration: 'America,' 170 tons, 1851 (Commodore Stevens, N.Y.Y.C.)] 'Julia' was one of the handsomest yachts of her day, and the fastest when proper allowance for difference of size was made. It is true that 'Maria' nearly always beat her, but in those days the system of allowance favoured the larger vessel, which error exists in allowance tables in use at present. The sloop 'Rebecca' was built in 1855 by William Tooker, a brother-in-law of George Steers, for J. G. van Pelt. Her length over all was 72 ft., 65 ft. on water-line, 19 ft. 2 in. beam, 5 ft. 8 in. deep, 6 ft. 3 in. draught, 3297.62 sq. ft. of sail spread, tonnage 77.6. The schooner 'America,' the most famous yacht of her day, was built by George Steers and W. H. Brown, designed and superintended by George Steers, launched May 3, 1851, for John C. Stevens, Hamilton Wilkes, George L. Schuyler, James Hamilton, J. Beekman Finlay, and Edward A. Stevens, brother of Commodore Stevens. The 'America' was 94 ft. long on deck, 83 ft. water-line, 22 ft. 6 in. beam, 9 ft. 3 in. depth of hold, 11 ft. 6 in. draught; her mainmast was 81 ft. long, 76 ft. 6 in. foremast, her main topmast was 33 ft. 6 in. long, no foretopmast, 58 ft. main boom, no fore boom, 28 ft. main gaff, 24 ft. fore gaff, 17 ft. bowsprit outboard, 170 tonnage. After 'America' finished her brilliant career in England in August 1851, she was sold there to Lord De Blaquiere and remained in foreign waters for ten years; she then fell into the hands of the Southern Confederacy, and when the U.S.S. 'Ottawa' visited Florida in 1862 'America' was found sunk in St. John's River. She was raised, pumped out, and sent to Port Royal, thence to Annapolis, Maryland, where she remained in Government service for several years, and was finally sold to General B. F. Butler. She still remains in yachting service as staunch as ever, and by no means the least handsome nor slowest of the national pleasure fleet; in fact, she is to day a monument to the skill of her designer and excellent thoroughness of her builder. The racing of the 'America' in England 42 years ago has without doubt had more influence, directly and indirectly, on the yachting world than the performance of any other yacht, and both countries concerned owe to her designer and owners a debt of gratitude that will remain uncancelled for generations; for it has been the means of bringing the two yachting nations together in many friendly contests, resulting not only in marked modifications in the form and rig of the yachts of both countries, but the social intercourse begun so many years ago has continued and increased greatly to the benefit of yachting, and has led to a more complete union of all interested in the promotion of close international relations. [Illustration: Lines and midship section of the 'America,' launched May 1, 1851.] In 1845 Robert and Isaac Fish (brothers) established themselves in New York as builders and designers of yachts and other vessels. On the death of Isaac, 'Bob Fish' continued the business and turned out many well-known yachts, sloops at first and later schooners. His yachts were generally successful as racers, and next to Steers his designs were thought to be best; but whilst his yachts were fast and usually successful in other respects, their form was not destined to live, for the system of shoal draught and wide beam is now obsolete, except in waters where the conditions require special features. Fish showed no tendency to change the model then in vogue, his last yacht being just like the earlier in form and in general proportions. Mr. Fish had great skill in 'tuning up' a yacht for racing, and many craft owe their success to his ability. A few of the best-known yachts by Mr. Fish were, sloop 'Newburg,' 1845; sloop 'Undine,' sloop 'Gertrude,' 1852; 'Victoria,' 1856--this last became a blockade-runner in 1863, was captured, sold, and afterwards wrecked. Sloop 'Eva,' 1866, afterwards a schooner, was capsized and lost on Charleston Bar. 'Meteor,' schooner, 1869, a large and fine vessel, was lost the same year on Cape Bonne, whilst cruising in the Mediterranean. Schooners 'Wanderer' and 'Enchantress' were both very successful vessels, and fast in their day. In 1869 Mr. Fish remodelled 'Sappho,' giving her wholly new lines and changing essentially her proportions, vastly improving the sailing qualities of the yacht, as was afterward proved by her successes in foreign waters as a racer. Another designer and builder of about this period was D. D. Mallory, of Noank, Connecticut; he brought out many fast and otherwise successful sloops, but it can be said of him, as of Robert Fish, that his tendencies in designing were not in a direction toward improvement; the same wide, flat, shoal-draught vessels were adhered to from first to last. Some of Mallory's best-known yachts were 'Mystic,' 1856, 'Richmond,' 1857, 'Mallory,' 1858, 'Haswell,' 1858, 'Plover,' 1859, 'Zouave,' 1861. In 1864 the Herreshoffs began yacht building and designing in Bristol, Rhode Island. They had inherited tendencies toward everything connected with marine affairs, and having been born and bred on the shore of Narragansett Bay, their attention was early turned to boating, and later to yachting. From the outset the Herreshoffs departed from old forms, and struck out for something better than the 'skimming-dish,' as the popular model was truly but irreverently called. Some of the best known yachts built in Bristol were 'Kelpie,' 1864, 'Qui Vive,' 1864, 'Clytie,' 1865, 'Sadie,' 1867, 'Orion,' 1870, the schooners 'Ianthe,' 'Triton,' 'Faustine,' and a great number of smaller craft of either sloop or cat rig. [Illustration: 'Shadow,' 1872.] In 1872 Mr. N. G. Herreshoff, the younger of the two brothers connected in yacht-building, and the designer, brought out the 'Shadow,' 37 ft. over all, a sloop whose fame is still fresh in the mind of every yachtsman in America. She has won more races than any American yacht, and even to-day can give the best of the new yachts a very hard pull. The 'Shadow' has the honour of being the first yacht built on what was afterwards known as the 'compromise model'; that is, a design that combines the beam of the American with the depth of the English yacht. From her earliest performance 'Shadow' showed speed and admirable qualities, but strangely enough, her form was not reproduced nor copied for nearly fifteen years, which may be accounted for in a measure by her designer having deserted the yachting field and turned his attention to steam engineering and to the designing of steam yachts. Mr. Herreshoff, however, did not wholly abandon his interest in sailing vessels, and occasionally put forth a sailing yacht, or more properly boat, one of which, the cat-boat 'Gleam,' was very famous for speed both in native and English waters. [Illustration: Lines and midship section of the 'Shadow,' designed by N. Herreshoff, 1872.] Another well-known cat was 'Alice,' 1879; she took twelve first prizes out of eleven starts during her first year, in one race there having been two prizes offered. During the ten years from 1860 to 1870, covering the period of the War of the Rebellion, yachting interests were at a low ebb, and comparatively few pleasure vessels of any kind were built. A change presently came over the fancy of yachtsmen, which was shown by a feeling against large sloops, mostly on account of their being difficult in management. The long boom is always an element of danger and inconvenience, so that during the period alluded to many of the old sloops were rigged into schooners, and toward the latter part of the decade schooners became more successful and popular on account of their ease in handling, and their being far better adapted for ocean cruising, which at that time became more and more general with the owners of pleasure craft. The coming of 'Cambria' in 1870, and later of 'Livonia,' seemed to act as a stimulant in the construction of schooners, and many were built and found to be very satisfactory and successful. A list of the best known and most successful schooners that existed about 1870 and 1871 would include:--'Phantom,' 123 tons; 'Maggie,' 132 tons; 'Sylvie,' 106 tons; 'Tidal Wave,' 153 tons; 'Madeleine,' 148 tons; 'Rambler,' 160 tons; 'Idler,' 133 tons; 'Dauntless,' 268 tons; 'Magic,' 97 tons; 'Fleetwing,' 206 tons; 'Palmer,' 194 tons; 'Alice,' 83 tons; 'Fleur de Lys,' 92 tons; 'Eva,' 81 tons; 'Restless,' 95 tons; 'Josephine,' 143 tons; 'Calypso,' 109 tons; 'Widgeon,' 105 tons; 'Halcyon,' 121 tons; 'Tarolenta,' 204 tons; 'Alarm,' 225 tons; 'Vesta,' 201 tons; 'Wanderer,' 187 tons; 'Columbia,' 206 tons; 'Sappho,' 310 tons; 'Enchantress,' 277 tons; 'Mohawk,' launched in June, 1875, 326 tons; 'Ambassadress,' 1877, 431 tons; 'Intrepid,' 1878, 276 tons; 'Grayling,' 1883, 91 ft. long, 136 tons, designed by Philip Elsworth, remodelled by Burgess in 1888; 'Montauk,' Elsworth designer, 1882, 193 tons; 'Sea Fox,' 1888, designed and owned by A. Cass Canfield, 204 tons. [Illustration: Midship sections.] Some very fast sloops appeared after 1860, but in less number than before that date. The following list covers those that were best known and noted for speed:--the 'Mannersing,' built by David Kirby, Rye, New York, launched June 11, 1858, 58 ft. over all, 54 ft. 4 in. length on water-line, 18 ft. beam, 5 ft. 1 in. deep, and 4 ft. draught, centreboard, 24 tons; she was very fast, won three races out of five, was later owned in New Bedford, where she was wrecked. The 'Mallory,' built by D. D. Mallory, 1858, 55 ft. over all, 51 ft. length on water-line, 18 ft. beam, 6 ft. deep, 5 ft. draught, a very handsome and fast vessel, 45 tons; she was lost at sea on a voyage from Havanna to New York, no survivors. The 'Annie,' built by Albertson Brothers, Philadelphia, designed by Robert Fish, 1861, 53 ft. over all, 45 ft. 6 in. length on water-line, 18 ft. beam, 4 ft. 2 in. deep, 3 ft. 6 in. draught, centreboard. 'Annie' was first owned by Mr. Anson Livingston, who was the best amateur yachtsman of that day; he sailed 'Annie' in five races and won them all; she was finally shipped to California on the deck of the vessel 'Three Brothers,' and is now doing very satisfactory duty in the Bay of San Francisco. 'Addie,' V. sloop, built by David Kirby for William Voorhis, 1867, 65 ft. 10 in. over all, 57 ft. length on water-line and 17 ft. beam, 5 ft. 4 in. deep, 4 ft. 4 in. draught, centreboard; she was but fairly fast, and underwent many changes. 'Coming,' sloop, centreboard, designed by R. Fish, 1868, 62 ft. over all, 57 ft. length on water-line, 20 ft. 3 in. beam, 5 ft. 5 in. deep, 5 ft. draught, 53-25/95 tons; she was not at first fast, but later, when owned in Boston, she developed very good speed, and won several races. [Illustration: Sail plan of 'Gracie.'] 'Gracie,' launched July 1868, was modelled and built by A. Polhemus at Nyack, New York. Her dimensions were then 60 ft. 3 in. over all, 58 ft. 6 in. water-line, 18 ft. 8 in. beam, 5 ft. 6 in. depth of hold, and 5 ft. draught, centreboard lengthened 2 ft. aft in 1869. In 1874 she was lengthened to 72 ft. 9 in. over all, 62 ft. water-line, 20 ft. 6 in. beam, 6 ft. 6 in. depth of hold, and 5 ft. 8 in. draught. In 1879 she was again rebuilt and altered by David Cool at City Island, and lengthened to about 80 ft. over all, with same water-line, a beam of 22 ft. 6 in., 7 ft. depth of hold, and 6 ft. 8 in. draught. Her mast was 74 ft. over all, topmast 36 ft., boom 63 ft., gaff 31 ft., whole length of bowsprit, of which 19 ft. is outboard. That was the dimension she had when she sailed with the 'Bedouin,' the 'Puritan,' and 'Priscilla.' She was again altered in 1886, giving her 16 tons inside ballast, the rest on the keel. When she was launched her tonnage, old measurement, was 54-45/95; to-day it is 102-68/95. [Illustration: Lines and midship section of 'Gracie,' New York Yacht Club, launched July 1868.] Such are the changes made in old yachts now-a-days. A new one every year is all the fashion; no alteration of originals, but new lines entirely. The following were notable yachts:-- The sloop 'Madeleine,' built by David Kirby, Rye, New York, and launched March, 1869, designed by J. Voorhis. Length over all 70 ft., 65 ft. length on water-line, 21 ft. beam, and 7 ft. 9 in. deep, 6 ft. 6 in. draught. In her original form she was a failure, but in 1870 was changed to a schooner. After alterations to her design of hull in 1871 and again in 1873, she became a fast yacht, and was chosen to defend the 'America' Cup against the 'Countess of Dufferin' in 1876. The cutter 'Vindex,' built by Reanyson and Archibald in Chester, Pennsylvania, in 1871, designed jointly by A. Cary Smith and her owner, Robert Center. She is the first iron yacht built in this country, being a new departure in design as well as rig, though not famous for speed, and was not a racer; still she was an excellent vessel for cruising, and was particularly comfortable in beating to windward in strong weather. 'Vindex' was 63 ft. overall, 56 ft. length on water-line, 17 ft. 4 in. beam, 7 ft. 6 in. deep, 8 ft. 10 in. draught, keel, 68 tons. The sloop 'Vixen,' centreboard, built by Albertson Bros., of Philadelphia, for Anson Livingston, designed by R. Fish, 1871, length overall 52 ft., 44 ft. length on water-line, 16 ft. 6 in. beam, 6 ft. deep, 4 ft. 5 in. draught, 37 tons. Sailed thirty-seven races in the New York Yacht Club, and won eighteen first prizes. The sloop 'Fanny,' built by D. O. Richmond, in Mystic, Connecticut, 1873. Length over all 72 ft., 66 ft. length on water-line, 23 ft. 9 in. beam, 6 ft. 9 in. deep, 5 ft. draught, centreboard, 90 tons. She sailed twenty-six races in the New York Yacht Club, and won ten prizes. Sloop 'Arrow,' built by David Kerby for Daniel Edgar, 1874, 66 ft. 6 in. over all, 61 ft. 8 in. length on water-line, 20 ft. 2 in. beam, 6 ft. 6 in. deep, 5 ft. 6 in. draught, 69-64/95 tons. Her career was short and creditable under the flag of the New York Yacht Club, she having, in her first year, entered five races and won four prizes. Sloop 'Mischief,' designed by A. Cary Smith, built by the Harlan Hollingsworth Co., of Wilmington, Delaware, of iron, 1879; 67 ft. 6 in. over all, 61 ft. length on water-line, 19 ft. 11 in. beam, 7 ft. 9 in deep, 5 ft. 3 in. draught, 79-27/95 tons. 'Mischief' was chosen to defend the 'America' Cup against 'Atalanta' in 1881; she has sailed twenty-six races and won eleven prizes. The sloop 'Pocahontas' was built by David Kirby for a syndicate. Launched in 1881, she was 71 ft. 11 in. She was intended to defend the 'America' Cup against 'Atalanta,' but was badly beaten by 'Mischief' and 'Gracie,' and was retired, bearing the well-deserved sobriquet 'Pokey.' The sloop 'Priscilla' was built of iron by the Harlan Hollingsworth Co., Wilmington, Delaware, and designed by A. Cary Smith for James G. Bennett and William Douglas, with a view to defend the 'America' Cup against 'Genesta,' but the trial races showed 'Puritan' to be the best yacht, 1885. She was sold in 1886 to A. Cass Canfield, who did all in his power to bring her into racing form, but improvements in designing set her hopelessly astern. 'Priscilla' was 95 ft. 6 in. over all, 85 ft. 3 in. length on water-line, 22 ft. 6 in. beam, 8 ft. 9 in. deep, 8 ft. draught, centreboard. She was rigged into a schooner in 1888, but as a racer has never made a creditable record. The sloop 'Atlantic' was built by J. F. Mumm at Bay Ridge, Long Island, designed by Philip Elsworth for Latham A. Fish and others. She was built to defend the 'America' Cup against 'Galatea,' but in the trial races she was beaten by both 'Puritan' and 'Mayflower,' and was retired. In 1887 she was sold, and changed into a schooner. Length over all 95 ft., 84 ft. 6 in. length on water-line, 23 ft. 2 in. beam, 9 ft. 6 in. deep, 9 ft. draught, centreboard, 159-81/95 tons. Amongst designers of this period A. Cary Smith, whose name is mentioned above, stands unquestionably first in New York; his boats were and are to-day favourites amongst yachtsmen. It may be said of him that he displayed good sense in designing, and whilst his productions have not been famous as racers, still they are by no means the last to return; and when we consider qualities of staunchness, trustworthiness of working in stress of weather, and all except the extreme of speed, his yachts have not been excelled. In late years, beside yacht designing, Mr. Smith has taken up the modelling of fast screw and side-wheel steamers for special passenger coastwise traffic, in which line his skill has proved pre-eminent; vessels of his design are to-day the fastest afloat, and, like his other work, are marked by evidence of perfect understanding of the requirements; in short, he builds for the special use demanded, and therefore his labours are followed by success. He first came before the public in 1871, when he jointly with Robert Center designed the iron cutter 'Vindex,' at Chester, Pennsylvania. Then he built the schooner 'Prospero,' and it was said that he laid down the lines from paper draughts without having a model, which was at that time a great fad. Then he designed and built the 'Norna' and 'Intrepid,' 'Mina,' 'Iroquois,' and 'Zampa'; he has now designed and is superintending the building of two schooners, two ferry-boats, and one 'Sound' steamer. He is also a fine marine artist, and has painted many noted yachts: the 'Sappho' for Commodore Douglas, and 'Dauntless' for Commodore Bennett, the 'Wanderer,' 'Columbia,' the 'Vindex,'and many other celebrated yachts. About twenty years after the organisation of the New York Yacht Club, the Brooklyn Yacht Club was formed, and, soon following it, the Atlantic Yacht Club appeared. The new clubs were composed of men who owned generally a smaller class of yachts than that in the older club, but their members were interested and active, and races were held in early summer and in autumn, as well as a cruise to Newport in midsummer. [Illustration: International Race, 1886. 'Galatea' (Lieut. W. Henn, R.N.) passing Sandy Hook Lightship.] The desire for club formation was prevalent in Boston about the same time that the Brooklyn and Atlantic were started. The Boston Club was a promising institution, and called together a very respectable fleet of yachts; races and cruises were held, and much discussion on, and comparison of, designs were indulged in, to the decided advantage of the style of rig and general management of pleasure craft both in cruising and racing. Early in the '70's there appeared a sudden disposition to form yachting clubs wherever a handful of boats could be found with owners living near each other. Club after club was started, many of which were short-lived, but in a little time the discordant elements were separated, and in all the clubs that now exist can be found a healthy social spirit, and a true disposition to advance the cause of yachting by the encouragement of Corinthian races and cruises. With the organisation of the Seawanhaka Yacht Club of New York, and the Eastern Yacht Club in Boston, the circle of really important clubs seems to be filled; but it is to-day easy to find as many as twenty-five or thirty clubs scattered from Maine to Florida, whose influence and example offer encouragement to the promotion of social intercourse and yacht designing. About the year 1880 there began to arise amongst yachtsmen a feeling of uneasiness in respect of the design of yachts then in vogue, and for so many years in successful use. It was the natural sequence of the gradual change that was being wrought in the surroundings of the class that seek pastimes, and with increase of leisure and wealth there came a desire for more seaworthy vessels; cruising had then become a settled thing, and a winter's cruise in southern waters was no unusual event. The ever-increasing communication with England, and consequent friendly intercourse, led directly to a desire on the part of many American yachtsmen to adopt a design--if not an exact copy--something more after the style of the English yacht. The sad accident to the 'Mohawk' also had its influence in unsettling our faith in the wide, flat model, and in 1881, when the 'Madge' came in amongst us and showed what speed and weatherly qualities were present in the English design, and when also the cutter 'Clara' drove home and clinched the work the 'Madge' had begun, there then set in a regular _furore_ amongst American designers and yachtsmen for something that was different from the then accepted forms of hull and styles of rig. In 1885, when it became necessary to defend the 'America' Cup against 'Genesta,' it dawned on the yachting fraternity that a stroke must be made or the much-prized trophy would return to its native shores. [Illustration: 'Puritan,' 1885 (General Paine, N.Y.Y.C.)] As usually happens in a country of progressive and intelligent people, the need calls forth its own means of cure, and Edward Burgess came to the front with a solution of the difficulty. The new designer created nothing newer than a refinement of what existed in the sloop 'Shadow,' built fourteen years before; but his clever combination of what is best in English and American designs gave us in the 'Puritan' a vessel of which a designer might well be proud. The nation was satisfied with her performance, and grateful to her promulgator. The success of the cutter 'Puritan' at once placed Mr. Burgess in advance of all American designers, and at the same time her form and rig were pronounced to be entirely successful, and from that moment the compromise model, as it was called, became established on what has proved most firm foundation; for it has not only revolutionised designing in America, but has had a very marked influence on the form of yachts in England, to their evident improvement--at least, it is natural to conclude that the best of two widely divergent results in yacht designing would lie in a middle position between the two. In 1886 Burgess brought out the cutter 'Mayflower' to meet 'Galatea,' but the former yacht had small need of her superiority over 'Puritan,' for 'Mayflower' easily beat her opponent, and again the cup renewed its length of days on this side of the ocean. In 1887 a most determined and well-planned movement was made by Scottish yachtsmen against the 'America' Cup. It was beyond question the most hard-fought battle in yachting that had occurred up to that date, but the hastily built 'Volunteer,' also designed by Mr. Burgess, proved again that it was no easy task to carry off the cup that had then been fully naturalised by a residence in this land of thirty-six years. The much-coveted cup now enjoyed a season of comparative rest, and year after year the new design became stronger and more securely established in the good opinion of American as well as English yachtsmen. The old question of centreboard _v._ keel still vexed the minds of those interested, and without doubt it will be long insoluble; but seeing that both have inalienable advantages, both types of construction will be used so long as a demand for yachts for varying conditions shall exist. Let it be admitted, however, that the newest design of keel yachts have their form below water so shaped as to very nearly resemble a centreboard, and the best shape of centreboard yachts have lateral resistance enough to do fairly good work to windward with their board drawn up; so in this particular, as in the general form of the hull, the best practice lies in combining both devices. It must also be freely admitted that for the pure comfort and pleasure of sailing, for an appreciation of the inspiriting motion, as well as for the comfort of increased deck and cabin room, nothing yet has exceeded the form of yacht now falling into disuse; and for the pleasure of sailing on the usually smooth waters of our sheltered bays, and wafted by the moderate breezes that are most frequently found, nothing can surpass for pure enjoyment the cat-boat of middle size, say about 25 ft. in length. In 1888, the lovers of racing pinned their faith to the 30-foot class, and Burgess's fame rose higher and higher. He became the idol of his countrymen; a gift of 10,000 dollars indicated in some measure the regard of his admiring friends, and really he deserved it: he was gentle and unassuming in manner, always courteous, and interested not only in his favourite profession, for unlike many gifted men he had more than one side. His love for and knowledge of natural history were scarcely less remarkable than his skill in the pursuit to which he devoted all his time during the last four years of his life. Mr. Burgess was for many years secretary of the Natural History Association of Boston, and resigned that position only when forced by pressure of business, consequent on the supervision of construction and fitting out of the many yachts that he yearly put forth. The appended list and dimensions of some of the best known and most successful of Mr. Edward Burgess's yachts is interesting as showing the change in chief proportions of the several yachts as compared with craft of the older design. [Illustration: 'Volunteer' (_From Photograph sent by General Paine, N.Y.Y.C._) 1887.] At this time the minds of our yachtsmen were sorely fretted by the performance of the cutter 'Minerva' from Scotland. She laid all low who dared to wrestle with her, and not until the concentrated strength of our great designer was invoked could she be beaten. Even then the 'Gossoon' could not always outstrip her, but the newly developed skill that she set in motion did not rest with the beating of 'Minerva,' and to-day she would have no chance. Great strides were made in 1891, placing on an even footing the famous 46-foot class with yachts of 20 ft. superior length. +------------------+-------+-------+-------+-------+------+------+ | | Over | | | | | | | | all | W.L. | Beam |Draught| Tons | Date | +------------------+-------+-------+-------+-------+------+------+ | |ft. in.|ft. in.|ft. in.|ft. in.| | | |Schooners:-- | | | | | | | | Sachem, C.B. |105 0 | 86 6 | 23 5 | 8 5 | -- | 1886 | | Marguerite, C.B. | 97 0 | 79 9 | 21 0 | 11 0 | 65 | 1888 | | Quickstep, C.B. | 83 0 | 65 0 | 20 0 | 7 0 | 54 | 1889 | |Cutters:-- | | | | | | | | Volunteer, C.B. |104 0 | 85 9 | 23 2 | 10 0 | -- | 1887 | | Mayflower, C.B. | 96 9 | 85 7 | 23 5 | 10 0 | -- | 1886 | | Puritan, C.B. | 93 0 | 81 1 | 22 9 | 8 2 | -- | 1885 | | Harpoon, C.B. | 63 0 | 45 8 | 16 0 | 7 5 | -- | 1891 | | Oweene, K. | 62 0 | 45 8 | 13 3 | 11 0 | 23 | 1891 | | Gossoon, K. | 53 0 | 39 6 | 12 0 | 9 2 | -- | 1890 | | Hawk, C.B. | 42 0 | 29 8 | 11 0 | 8 0 | 8 | 1890 | | Titania, C.B. | 81 5 | 69 9 | 21 0 | 8 1 | -- | 1887 | +------------------+-------+-------+-------+-------+------+------+ C.B. Centreboard. K. Keel boats. W.L. Water-line. The year of 1891 was famous in bringing to a climax the development of the new idea; several new designers of merit appeared, notably Mr. William Gardiner of New York. His 'Lyris' was a marvel of speed, and in her class she was well nigh invincible. 1891, indeed, opened with every nerve at the highest tension. One incident was the return of Mr. N. G. Herreshoff to the field of sail-yacht designing from which he had retired nineteen years before. To add to the interest and excitement, several designers contributed their skill in forming the famous class of 46-footers that rendered that season long remembered in yachting annals. Burgess had four, and Fife of Scotland, General Paine of Boston, Herreshoff of Bristol, and J. R. Maxwell of New York, each sent one yacht to the lists; so the new fleet represented, not only well-tried skill, but the work of several who were new in the field. No one of the fleet of racers attracted so much interest and discussion as the cutter 'Gloriana,' keel, the Herreshoff production; she was a decided departure from accepted forms, and destined to create a revolution in the science of naval architecture. Criticism was poured upon 'Gloriana' from every side--a very few thought she might sail moderately fast, but the majority who expressed their minds all united in declaring that nothing but abject failure could follow such an act of boldness as her model appeared to all but her designer, and perhaps her owner, Mr. E. D. Morgan. [Illustration: 'Gossoon,' keel boat, 1890. Designed by E. Burgess.] Mr. Herreshoff, however, had built a small craft in the autumn of 1890 which was on much the same lines as 'Gloriana,' except that the latter was a more complete representative of the new system; the trial boat of the previous autumn showed qualities in sailing and handling that gave the designer of 'Gloriana' courage to proceed with a craft that called forth general condemnation before she was launched, a feeling which was quickly changed to astonishment and approval as soon as she was tried against other members of her class. The feature of 'Gloriana' that marked her amongst all other yachts of that season was her abnormal overhang, showing a length over all of 70 ft. to that on water of 45 ft. 3 in. This unusual degree of overhang gave an opportunity for the elongation of the body of the yacht, the fulness of the bilge being extended quite to the extreme point of the bow and stern. [Illustration: 'Gloriana,' 1892. Designed by Herreshoff.] The lines of 'Gloriana's' entrance seemed almost bluff; but owing to the flare of that portion of the hull where contact is first made with the water, she appeared to roll it underneath her in a manner that disposed of the displacement more easily than by the nearly vertical sides of the usual wedge-shaped bow; at least if one could judge from the very slight and superficial character of the 'fuss' made around her bow, and also by the diminished effect of the wave under the lee bow to turn the yacht to windward (shown by her very easy helm), the inference is clear that this form of entrance does its work with less expended power than the old form. Another most advantageous result of the elongation of the body of 'Gloriana' is the fact that when she plunges into rough water the part of the hull immersed by pitching presents lines that are just as long and easy as those shown when the yacht is sailing in smooth water. This feature of 'Gloriana's' performance gives her a higher rate of speed when compared with yachts of old type at times and conditions when the speed of all the old formed yachts suffer a marked diminution. Besides the fact of a gain in speed with a given power, this form affords an increase of space below as well as on deck, and if the vastly increased buoyancy be considered, enabling the yacht to carry greater spread of sail and carry it well, it will be seen what a really important improvement was demonstrated in 'Gloriana.' She sailed during her maiden season eight races and took eight first prizes--a clean record--and with the exception of one race all were sailed with her largest club topsail set. Had she met with fairly rough water, as occurred on one of the races, her superior sailing qualities would have stood forth in even stronger contrast. The yachting season of 1891 was clouded by the death of Mr. Burgess, which happened soon after the close of the June races, the result of which he never knew, as the defeat of his 'Syanara' and 'Mineola' was never told him. By his death, yachting received a blow from which it may not quickly recover; he enjoyed to the utmost the regard and gratitude of the public, the measure of which was shown by the voluntary creation of a fund for the education of his children. As was predicted, the season of 1892 was not as exciting as the previous year; the 46-foot class received a new member in the cutter 'Wasp,' from the Herreshoff hand; she was an advance on 'Gloriana'--the same ideas more fully developed--the changes being in part suggested by or taken from the design of a new type of boat afterwards called 'fin-keel,' the first of which craft was launched and tried in the autumn of 1891; but of this more will be said later. 'Wasp' found as opponents her sister 'Gloriana,' now passed from the hands of her original owner and from good management, and the reformed 'Beatrix,' a centreboard cutter of 1891, now worked by the Adams Brothers, two of the most acute yachtsmen in the country, who so improved the 'Harpoon,' as they renamed her, that for a time it was thought 'Wasp' would be out-sailed; but except in the Goelet cup race off Newport, when 'Wasp's' skipper made a capital blunder, the Herreshoff flyer made a record but little less clean than that of 'Gloriana' in 1891. 'Gloriana' took third place to the 'Harpoon's' second, the result of poor handling, and in a degree to the constantly prevailing light winds in which all the races were sailed, light club topsails being carried in every instance. [Illustration: 'Wasp,' 1892. Herreshoff's design.] A novel and interesting feature of the yachting season of 1892 was the 'fin-keel' boat, a production of N. G. Herreshoff. It will be seen from the cut below that some of the peculiarities of the 'Gloriana' form are embodied in this singular craft--namely, the long overhang and the rounded elongation of the bilge to the extreme limits of the bow and stern. The chief characteristic, however, is the fin, or in effect a fixed centreboard carrying a weight of lead on its lower edge sufficient to give the craft stability enough to balance the rigging and press of wind in the sails. The most successful fin-keel boats have a length on water equal to three-and-a-half beams, and as the section of the hull is round or nearly so, stability is gained in a manner already explained. [Illustration: Fin-keel and bulb.] The first of this style of craft was built and launched in the autumn of 1891, and was called 'Dilemma'; she had a very moderate-sized rig, the jib-stay being secured to the extreme point of the bow, but with this she easily beat the old style of cat-boat, and showed, besides unusual speed, many other desirable qualities. In 1892 the fin-keel boat was generally introduced, three or four sailing in Boston waters, while New York, the Lakes, and Buzzard's Bay claimed one each to two in their home waters of Narragansett Bay. [Illustration: 'Consuelo,' cat-yawl.] The 'Wenona' and 'Wee Winn,' the first in the North and the latter in the South of England, showed our friends on the other side of the sea what their racing qualities were, which are soon told by referring to their record. Out of twenty starts made by 'Wenona' she won 17 first, 2 second, and 1 third prizes, and her sister in the South was even more fortunate, winning 20 first and 1 second prizes out of twenty-one starts. The fin-keel type at home was almost as successful, except when brought into competition with a centreboard boat of sloop rig, 21 ft. length on water-line, called 'Alpha.' She was built and designed by the projector of the fin-keels, and was the chief member of a large 21-foot class that was fully exploited in Boston during the season of 1892, where the 'Alpha' won in every race she entered. The value of the fin-keel type in adding to the resources of yachting is limited; the type does not contribute anything of living value to yachting, it serves only as a means to show that old types can easily be beaten, but that it takes a 'machine' to do it. Fin-keels are, it is true, very pleasant to sail in, and they work beautifully, but the design is probably limited in size to 35- or 40-ft. water-line in length, for above that size the fin becomes a very troublesome adjunct in its handling and adjustment. When the boat is afloat the fin is not objectionable, but in taking the bottom by accident, or in hauling it out, it makes the boat most troublesome to handle. Larger fin-keel boats have been projected, and one of 45 ft. length on water-line has just been built, but their success from a general view-point is highly questionable. Mr. N. G. Herreshoff, in 1883, introduced a very useful rig, which was first tested to his complete satisfaction on 'Consuelo.' These boats are styled 'cat-yawl,' and since their introduction the type has become very popular, and most deservedly so, as for ordinary sailing, and particularly cruising, the rig offers many important advantages. In reefing the mainsail is accessible, and the absence of the long boom of the cat-boat is readily appreciated. The rig of the cat-yawl has been applied successfully to all designs of yacht, deep and moderate beam as well as the shallow broad type, and always with increasing satisfaction. The rig, however, seems to be confined to boats not over 40 ft. length on water-line, as, the mainmast being placed so near the bow, it is impossible to stay it, and too large a mast unstayed is not desirable in a cruising boat. [Illustration: Herreshoff catamaran.] The proportions between the mainsail and jigger as recommended by the projector is 4 in the former to 1 in the latter--that is, the dimensions of the jigger should be exactly one-half those of the mainsail. Mr. Herreshoff is also responsible for another marine curiosity that appeared in 1876. This was a catamaran or double-hulled boat--intended to be handled by one man. This boat differs from its kinsfolk of the southern ocean, the point of widest departure being that the hulls are connected by flexible means, so that each hull can adjust itself to the surface of the water it moves in. The means employed in forming this flexible union were through the agency of a complex system of ball-and-socket joints which had range of motion enough, so that one hull might be riding a wave, whilst its sister would be in the depths of a hollow. A small tray-shaped car for passengers, and the mast and rigging, were supported between and above the hulls by a system of truss-work with adjustible tension rods of iron. These catamarans carried a mainsail and jib, and in smooth water made wonderful speed; 21 miles an hour has been attained under favourable conditions. This aquatic marvel was not destined to become popular; the boats required special skill in their management, and were best calculated for an afternoon's sail in smooth, sheltered water. The absence of anything like cabin accommodations was also against their use, but cruising has been successfully accomplished in them through the use of a tent to make shelter, covering the car, and of sufficient height for one to stand under it. [Illustration: Newport (centreboard) cat-boat.] The respect of all dwellers on the shore is due to the cat-boat. She is distinctly American, and whilst her use may be more and more circumscribed, still the old cat will live and continue to fill a place that no other rig could do. But the cat-boat in the usual acceptation means something more than its simple rig; it stands for a shallow, wide boat, with one mast crowded into the extreme bow, and a boom reaching far over the stern, as in the cut on p. 271. The 'cat' is seen on our seaboard from Maine to Florida, but 95 per cent. of all yachting and boating is done north of the capes of the Delaware. In this connection it is not out of place to speak of our very large fleet of small yachts and of boats for sailing and cruising which from their size may not properly be called yachts. The number of these craft is legion, they swarm in every northern port, and in a few places in the south are frequently met; their rig is always of the sloop for the larger, and for the smaller--say below 25-ft. water-line--the cat-rig is in preponderance. The value of this 'Mosquito fleet' as a school for yachting cannot be over-estimated. The fancy for cruising in small sloops or cat-boats has increased greatly of late, and as the type of craft for this work improves it will become a very general pastime. It is not here intended to cast too deep a slur on the cat-boats; seeing that the wind and weather are so generally moderate and dependable on our coast, cruising can safely be done in a cat of moderate rig. Even in heavy weather, if properly handled, a cat is sure to come in to port with flying colours, as the writer can attest by his own experience. There are several other types of boats seen on the Atlantic coast of the United States and British Provinces; they vary in design of hull as well as in the rig, and are adapted to the work required and the surrounding condition of weather and water. They are mostly modifications of the old pirogue, and as a rule are more used in trade or some occupation than for pleasure. Since yacht and boat racing began, there have been many different plans suggested for measurement, and for allowance between contending craft of different length. The same questions still agitate the mind of the yachtsman, and doubtless will for all time; but if the subject be wisely considered, it will be found that that system of measurement that conduces to the best form of hull and moderate-sized sail-spread is to be preferred. It is mainly owing to the differing systems of measurement that the English and American designs are so widely separated; extreme depth with a minimum breadth in the first, and broad, shallow vessels in the latter. It must be said, however, that sailing conditions had quite as much influence in dividing the types as measurement, but in the new compromise design all differences are happily united, and, be the water rough or smooth, the weather light or heavy, the new types will answer all requirements of speed or seaworthiness. The present idea of measurement that embraces sail-area and length is without question a very sensible one--surely, indeed, the best yet devised--but the tables of allowance cannot make just equality between vessels of widely different size, nor do they make just allowance between yachts of varying size in or under all conditions of wind. A system of measurement that will conduce to the construction of vessels of normal design and rig, and a table of allowance that will equalise yachts in any force of wind and condition of sea, are desiderata most devoutly wished for by all who are interested in the development of the yacht, and especially in racing. The sail of a yacht is such an essential factor in its performance that some words respecting makers of duck and of the sails themselves are not out of place. The quality of duck as to evenness of the spinning and weaving of the component yarns, and also the equality in the staple itself, are both factors of the utmost importance when the ultimate 'set' of the sail is considered. These inequalities in material, in conjunction with the personal differences of the men employed in sewing, all combine to make the set of the sail a very unknown quantity, and the differences can be removed only by the utmost care in making duck and in selection of sewers. A wholly satisfactory setting sail is a very rare sight on an American yacht, mainly on account of the uncertain characteristics of the duck, and only within the last year, as a result of the highly commendable efforts of Mr. Adrian Wilson, of the firm of Wilson & Silsby, sailmakers of Boston, has duck been produced that can stand comparison with that made in England for the exclusive use of Lapthorn. The thanks of all earnest yachtsmen are due to Mr. Wilson for his interest and untiring labours in inducing the makers of yarn and weavers of duck to produce an article that will meet the difficult requirements of a racing sail. Wilson & Silsby of Boston and John Sawyer & Co. of New York are considered the best sailmakers in America; but many others enjoy a good reputation: and now that really good duck can be obtained, it is hoped that better setting sails will be more easily obtained than heretofore. [Illustration: 'Constellation,' 1889, New York Club. Designed by E. Burgess.] Many of our yachtsmen possess skill in designing, and are also fully capable of supervising and directing the construction of a yacht as well as her rigging and fitting out; and when that is done they can take the helm, and under their guidance their craft will be as well handled as by the best professional skipper. Prominent among these skilled yachtsmen in New York is Mr. E. D. Morgan, Commodore of the New York Yacht Club, who in the height of his yachting career owned a whole harbour full of yachts, ranging from an ocean-cruising steamer to a naphtha launch in machine-propelled craft, and from a first-class schooner yacht to a cat-yawl amongst the sailing vessels. Others but a degree less devoted and skilful are Messrs. J. R. Maxwell, A. Cass Canfield, L. A. Fish, Archibald Rogers; and, in Boston, General Charles J. Paine, Mr. C. H. W. Foster, Com. J. Mal. Forbes, Messrs. George C. Adams, C. F. Adams, jun., Bayard Thayer, Charles A. Prince, John Bryant, Henry Bryant, Gordon Dexter. The chief designers in New York are Messrs. Winteringham, Gardiner, and A. C. Smith; whilst in Boston, Messrs. Stuart & Binney and Waterhouse & Chesebro are amongst the best known; but many others scattered along our seaboard have designed and built most creditable yachts, and occasionally a craft is turned out that rivals the productions of the best and most experienced designers. Yachting on the waters of the British Possessions in North America has developed rapidly, and, fostered by the formation of clubs, and the establishment of regular seasons for racing and cruising, there is no doubt that the improvement of design and rig will progress satisfactorily. The seaboard of the British Provinces is well adapted for cruising and racing, and due advantage is taken of all yachting facilities on the coast as well as on the Great Lakes, and to a considerable extent on the St. Lawrence River. In glancing over the yachting situation in the United States there is every reason to feel satisfied with what has been accomplished; all improvements in design and rig have been eagerly adopted by our yachtsmen, and if we have drawn from the English in some points, they have been fully repaid by gleanings from American practice. Yachting is appreciated in other localities than on the seaboard, with its bays and rivers; the great lakes have a small fleet of pleasure vessels, and on some of the smaller lakes, as Minnietonka in Minnesota, racing is carried to a degree of perfection wholly unsurpassed by the owners' salt-water friends. During the season of international matches, in 1885-87, the public interest awakened was extreme; reports of the racing were read with interest from Maine to California. When there is no international work on hand, the chief yachting event of the year is the cruise of the New York Yacht Club. Following the lead of 'Gimcrack,' in 1884, the cruise always takes place during the first week in August, embracing also a part or whole of the second. Starting from a port on the Sound easily accessible from the city of New York, the squadron makes its way eastward, stopping at several of the principal places of resort along the Sound. Of late years it has been the custom to race from port to port, regular entries being made and prizes awarded. At every port along its course the New York Yacht Squadron receives large augmentations of both sailing and steam yachts, so that at last, when the fleet anchors in the harbour of New London, it is an armada of pleasure craft laden with pleasure-seeking yachtsmen, all in accord to make this demonstration the brightest and gayest event of the season. The entrance of the squadron into Narragansett Bay is one of the most beautiful of all imaginable marine pictures; the ranks are then complete, often numbering 200 vessels, by steam and sail. Every available craft is pressed into service by the dwellers of Newport and vicinity to go out to meet the arriving yachts; steamers laden with passengers, tugs, trading schooners with their decks black with unusual freight, the ubiquitous cat-boat, all assemble in waiting off the Lightship at Brenton's Reef to welcome the approaching fleet that is already coming into view off Point Judith. The yacht squadron is escorted to the beautiful harbour of Newport by the motley fleet in attendance, and anchors there with a flutter of canvas and the booming of cannon. [Illustration: The ubiquitous cat-boat.] At evening the fleet is illuminated with coloured lights, the steam yachts contribute electric glare, forming a scene worth many miles of journeying to witness. Then follow races in the open sea outside Newport, after which the cruise is continued to New Bedford, and Edgartown on Martha's Vineyard Island; more racing, and then a cruise around Cape Cod to Boston, where more racing and much festivity is enjoyed, after which the squadron disbands, most of the yachts return to Newport, whilst others cruise to Mount Desert Island and beyond. About the middle of August it is usual to have more racing off Newport under the auspices of the Atlantic and Seawanhaka Clubs, and this usually closes the season for racing; a few matches, however, are generally expected in the autumn, but by the middle of October nearly all the yachts go out of commission. Winter cruising to Florida and the West Indies usually begins soon after Christmas, returning early in April, whereby the rigours of our northern winter are avoided. As a rule, the American yachtsman is not inclined to racing to an extent that would afford the best information and knowledge as to the design and rig of his craft. At times, however, when under the stimulus of rivalry of designers, as occurred in 1891, or particularly when there is an international contest on hand, our marine phalanx stand forth in battle array, sacrifice no end of personal effort, and stake willingly their bottom dollar. _'America' Cup Competitions_ +------------+-------------------+---------+-----+-------+ | Year | Name | W.L. |Beam |Draught| | | | Length | | | +------------+-------------------+---------+-----+-------+ | | | ft. | ft. | ft. | | 1870{ Magic | 78.11 |20.9 | 6.7 | |August 1870{ Cambria |100.0 |20.5 | 12.4 | | | | | | | | 1871{ Sappho |119.4 |27.4 | 12.8 | | 1871{ Columbia | 96.0 |25.1 | 6.0 | |October 1871{ Livonia |107.5 |23.3 | 12.8 | | | | | | | | 1876{ Madeleine | 95.2 |24.0 | 7.4 | |August 1876{ Countess Dufferin |107.0 |24.0 | 6.6 | | | | | | | | 1881{ Mischief | 61.0 |19.10| 5.4 | |Nov. 1881{ Atalanta | 64.0 |19.0 | 5.5 | | | | | | | | 1885{ Genesta | 81.0 |15.0 | 13.0 | |Sept. 1885{ Puritan | 85.1-1/2|22.7 | 8.8 | | | | | | | | 1886{ Galatea | 87.0 |15.0 | 13.03 | |Sept. 1886{ Mayflower | 85.7 |23.6 | 9.9 | | | | | | | | 1887{ Thistle | 86.46 |20.03| 13.8 | |Sept. 1887{ Volunteer | 85.88 |23.02| 10.0 | | | | | | | |October 1893{ Vigilant | 86.19 |26.25| 14.0 | | { Valkyrie | 86.8 |22.33| 16.3 | +------------+-------------------+---------+-----+-------+ It is the earnest wish of every American yachtsman to encourage frequent and friendly intercourse with his English cousins who are working for the true interest and advancement of yacht designing. The breadth of the interlying ocean and the disparity between the winds and water of the two countries should make no barrier to closer relations, to the end that the noble science of naval architecture and its most useful teachings may find in the progress of yachting a fit subject to bind more and more closely two nations of one blood, one language, and one desire--to attain to that which is highest and best even in sports and pastimes. The valuable assistance of Mr. Niels Olsen, superintendent of the New York Yacht Club, and of Mr. E. A. Stevens, of Hoboken, nephew of Commodore J. C. Stevens, is hereby gratefully recognised. But for them my work would have been difficult, and in many respects impossible. STEAM YACHTING IN AMERICA The rapid development of the steam engine as a motive power, and its widely distributed application, soon attracted the attention of the lovers of nautical sports, and before the year 1860 the all-conquering engine began to be used for the propulsion of pleasure craft. The invasion of fields of sport by the engine did not then recommend, nor has it since recommended, itself to the hearts of true yachtsmen; all that is so attractive in yachting seems to vanish as soon as the element of uncertainty is eliminated: all the poetry of motion, all the sense of freedom from disagreeable surroundings, as well as all interest in winds and water--all are sunk when the sail is changed for the engine as a propelling force. The steam yacht should be considered chiefly in the light of a very agreeable mode of locomotion, and as such it is unquestionably a very desirable adjunct to our resources, filling as it does a place that would be wholly impossible for sailing craft, when the uncertain character of winds and water is considered. The first idea of steam yachting in America was realised in the famous cruise of the 'North Star,' a side-wheel steamship of 2,004-25/95 tons, built for Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt in 1852. She was the most handsomely appointed vessel of her day, and sailed temporarily under the flag of the New York Yacht Club, which fixed her identity as a yacht, although she was built for merchant service. The 'North Star,' brigantine rig, was built by Jeremiah Simonson, of Green Point, Long Island. Length over all, 270 ft., 38 ft. beam, 28 ft. 6 in. depth, 16 ft. draught. She was fitted with two vertical beam engines, cylinders 60 in. diameter by 10 ft. stroke; two boilers, 10 ft. diameter by 24 ft. long; paddle-wheels, 34 ft. in diameter. She was broken up at Cold Spring, Long Island, in 1870. The Aspinwalls were the first promoters of real steam yachting, and as early as 1854 the 'Firefly' was launched by Smith & Dimon, of New York, for Messrs. W. H. Aspinwall and J. L. Aspinwall. Her length was 97 ft. 8 in. over all, 19 ft. beam, 5 ft. 2 in. hold, 3 ft. 9 in. draught, engines built by the Morgan Iron Works, oscillating cylinders 20 by 36 in., locomotive boiler, paddle-wheels 8 ft. 8 in. diameter, size of paddles 17 by 45 in. She was sold to the United States Government for duty on the Coast Survey Service--89-93/95 tons. 'Clarita,' built for Leonard W. Jerome by Lawrence Faulkes Williams, 1864; length over all, 125 ft.; 121 ft. 9 in. water-line, 22 ft. beam, 9 ft. depth, draught 11 ft. 6 in., 231-30/95 tons. Engine by Novelty Iron Works, 2 cylinders 22 by 22 in., diameter of screw 9 ft. 6 in. Sold to Pacific Mail Steamship Company, and is now doing towing duty on the Kennebec River, Maine. The 'Ocean Wave' was built for Mr. R. T. Loper by Reany & Naeafy, of Philadelphia, in 1865, iron. She was 87 ft. over all, 19 ft. beam, 7 ft. depth, 2 cylinders each 12 by 18 in., 38 nominal horse-power. The Police Department of Philadelphia bought her. 'Day-Dream,' composite construction, built by the Continental Iron Works, Green Point, Long Island, for W. H. Aspinwall, 1871. Length over all, 115 ft.; length on water-line, 109 ft.; beam, 19 ft.; depth of hold, 5 ft.; draught of water, 7 ft. Her engine was built by the Delamater Works of New York, vertical condensing, 2 cylinders each 14 by 14 in., one boiler 8 ft. long, diameter of screw 7 ft. 6 in., with 10 ft. pitch. She was sold to the United States Government for postal service in the Gulf of Mexico, and is now at New Orleans. The 'Day-Dream' was really the first successful steam yacht, and set the type of pleasure craft for many years; in fact, it is but a few years ago that the style called 'deck-house' yachts went out of use, and they are at present almost entirely superseded by the deeper-hulled, flush-deck yachts. During the early Seventies the steam launch, or open yacht, rapidly multiplied in numbers and seemed to fill a demand for afternoon sailing in the sheltered waters of our seaports, and as preparatory to something better they did good service. The open steam-launch as then used was from 25 to 45 ft. long, and 6 to 8 ft. wide, usually with vertical engines, and used a pipe condenser and boiler of upright form, generally of tubular construction. After the open launch came the small yacht, having a small cabin enclosed mostly by glass with a standing room aft. This very popular form is still much used, and answers a widely sought demand for day sailing or short cruising; the boats are usually about 45 to 70 ft. long, and from 8 to 10 ft. wide. This style of small yacht had no deck room that was available for real use, but the standing room with an awning over it with adjacent cabin made a very serviceable craft, in which cruising could be done from May until October on our coast with perfect safety. In those days 8 miles an hour was thought fast enough for anybody, but in a few years, when the engine and boiler were both more perfected, more speed was demanded, so that the type in question attained to 12 or 13 miles an hour, which in some cases has been pushed to 15, whilst the speed of the open launch which at first was but 8 to 10 miles an hour, reached, under the stimulus of popular desire and better motive power, to 16 and even 20 miles an hour in quiet smooth water. About 1885 the flush-deck yacht became more popular, and most deservedly so, as the style is superior in all essential points to the old deck-house form. It is true that the cabin of the older form is pleasanter, being lighter and more airy, but the strength of construction gained by the flush deck, its broad expanse of deck everywhere available for sitting and promenading, all these points of advantage give the present form decidedly the first place in the estimation of all lovers of steam yachting. Since 1880, steam yachting has increased with prodigious rapidity, and, particularly since the introduction of naphtha as a factor in motive power, our waters fairly swarm with craft propelled by a machine. In about the year 1884 a club was formed for steam-yacht owners only, called the American Yacht Club, and for several years it offered prizes to be run for in Long Island Sound; but steam-yacht racing did not become popular, principally because of the danger of forcing machinery to its utmost limit of safety, and also the difficulty of classifying yachts of different size and power of engine. For the most part the devotees of steam yachting are drawn from the general public without special regard of the situation of their home, as a yacht can be kept on the seaboard or on the lakes, whilst the owner may live far from the sight and sound of the sea; the restless spirit of our countrymen prompts them to embark into every scheme of pleasure-making, as well as business enterprise. Naturally, however, by far the greater number of steam-yacht owners have their homes on or very near some navigable water, upon which they pursue their favourite sport as a pastime only, or in connection with the daily engagements of business life. Many men of large means and wide business interests who may be seen daily on Wall Street or in other centres of trade in New York have homes on the head waters of Long Island Sound, or on the lower stretches of the Hudson, whence they daily run to the city of New York in a steam yacht, which, after landing its luxurious owner, waits until his day is done in the city, and bears him again to a home of comfort and quiet retreat. Yachts used chiefly for such purposes are always fast; when the speed falls below 20 miles an hour, their owners fret and fume, and wonder why she is not doing as well as she might. Steam yachts having abnormally high speed are occasionally seen in a large yachting fleet. There are always a few men, who, from a love of seeing their names in print and their movements and those of their yacht recorded in the newspapers of the day, find that by tearing up the waters of our bays and harbours with yachts which show a speed of 25 miles an hour, their fondest hope is realised; for every eye follows them, and every reporter wastes his pencil in recording the performances of the speedy craft. It is their delight on regatta days to dart about amongst the fleet of yachts and craft of the lookers-on, and astonish everybody by some new flight of speed or some skilful evolution. I am happy to record, however, that the number of these flyers is small, and becoming less: such speeds are attained only by great danger to life and limb of those in charge of the machine, and an entire loss of comfort from the violent vibration of the vessel; for she must be built as light and carry as powerful machinery as possible, to give the results desired by these morbid lovers of notoriety, who are no more yachtsmen than is the man who takes a balloon trip so as to be seen by the crowd. It must be admitted that comfort and pleasure can be, and doubtless are, found on many steam yachts; for instance, a yacht of 125 ft. water-line, by 19 ft. beam, with a well-kept flush-deck, a comfortable deck-house forward, a large awning spread over all, the deck set out with Persian rugs, tables, and comfortable rattan chairs, and a number of congenial friends present, who are not tired of life and each other--I think no one will deny that pleasure in the highest degree could be realised with such surroundings. Our prevailing pleasant weather during the yachting season, and the uniformly sheltered character of our waters, have had their effect on the form and construction of steam yachts as well as those by sail. Nearly 95 per cent. of all steam yachts in America are built expressly for bay, harbour, and river work, and when it is necessary to make any extended trip, as for instance to the coast of Maine, they usually creep close along shore, moving cautiously from port to port. We can, however, boast of a few deep-sea craft, as fine and seaworthy as any pleasure vessels in the world, such as those owned by the late Jay Gould, Mr. W. W. Astor, the Vanderbilts, and few others. The general dimensions of many steam yachts are ruled by the probability of their taking the passage through the Erie Canal, the locks of which are 100 ft. long and 17 ft. wide, and admit a vessel drawing 6 ft. of water. There is a marked advantage in taking the Erie Canal to reach the great lakes; with a vessel of proper size the passage of the canal is safe and easy, whilst the trip around by the Gulf and River of St. Lawrence is very long and surrounded by difficulties, although the voyage will richly repay one for taking it, as it affords greater variety in sea and landscape than any other possible in America. Steam yachting on the great lakes is also increasing rapidly, and in the harbours of the large cities, as Buffalo, Cleveland, Toledo, Detroit, Milwaukee, and Chicago, many steam pleasure craft may be seen, usually of a length of 100 ft. or less, so as to make their way to the salt water by the canal. As in the case of sailing yachts, 95 per cent. of steam craft are to be found north of the capes of the Delaware, but their numbers are increasing south of that point more rapidly than their sailing sisters. The Gulf and tributary waters as yet show very few pleasure craft of either sort, and the Pacific coast, on account of the high cost of fuel, is not the scene of steam yachting to any considerable extent. In the Bay of San Francisco, however, are a large number of naphtha launches that find very favourable water in that shallow sea. There is far less variety of form and rig among steam yachts than in any other pleasure craft. The accepted form at present is a flush-deck vessel with pole masts, triple-expansion engine, and some modification of the old Belville boiler, a form that has many varieties, none of which are satisfactory in more than a few points. They are generally safe from explosion, but very short-lived, and difficult to manage. The compound engine was introduced into yachting craft about the year 1875, and its success was as marked as in all other branches of marine construction. The triple-expansion engine was first used in 1884 with increased success over its ancestor, the compound, and in 1888 the quadruple engine was put into a few yachts; but it may be questioned if it possesses any advantages over the triple for the general uses of yachting. The use of high-expansion engines not only results in a marked economy of fuel, but, through a wide distribution of power and strain, far greater durability is attained, as well as greater freedom from vibration, which often imparts discomfort to the passengers, and injury to the hull of the yacht. With regard to the designing and construction of steam yachts, it seems to be the aim of every designer and builder to try his hand at this branch of naval architecture, and, as might naturally be expected, the resultant vessel is too often an example of semi-successful work of the novice, clumsy in form, construction, and machinery, rude in design and ill fitted to its duty. Nearly all the deep-sea pleasure craft are built on the Delaware, and as a rule are staunch, seaworthy vessels with good speed, and generally satisfactory performance in all situations. The Herreshoff Co., of Rhode Island, have passed No. 180 in steam vessels, the larger number of which are small launches, a good proportion small cabin yachts, and the rest of the every-day class of along-shore craft which satisfy the desires of nearly all who find pleasure on our coast in steam yachts. The Herreshoff Co. turns out the fastest vessels of their class, and for general qualities are the best examples of careful designing and construction as applied to both hull and machinery. They have the advantage of building every member of a yacht, hull, engines, and boiler, so the result is more harmonious, and in the main is more conducive to speed and that condition, called 'well balanced,' which is so desirable in all steam vessels. During the last five years naphtha engines, as applied to launches, have been greatly improved, so that their use has become immensely popular. They vary in size from 20 to 45 ft. in length, with speed from 6 to 10 miles an hour; in a measure they have displaced small steam launches as tenders for yachts, and in many places where no great degree of skill is required to run them; in fact, the ease of running and little time required to start a launch are the chief reasons of their popularity, in spite of the fact that they are noisy and malodorous. The use of the steam yacht will, without doubt, continue to increase more rapidly than the sailing craft, but there is not the least probability that the latter will be superseded. In so large a community of sea-loving people there will always be a few whose good taste and love of true sport will guide them toward the sail as a means of motion, and the forces of nature as motive power; but happy is he on whom fortune smiles to the extent of enabling him to keep both a steam and sailing yacht, for times do come when to reach an objective point is highly desirable, and at other times nothing can give so much pleasure as the quiet and peaceful sensation that is found only in a sailing craft. There is room then for every yacht, both steam and sail; each contributes to the pleasure of its owner, and each deserves our best efforts to develop and make perfect that which contributes so largely to our resources of enjoyment and healthful pastime. CHAPTER VII YACHTING IN NEW ZEALAND BY THE EARL OF ONSLOW, G.C.M.G., &c. As has already been said, there exists every facility in our Australasian Colonies both for cruising and racing. These colonial waters are indeed the only ones in the world where yachting can be enjoyed among our fellow-countrymen on summer seas and in a temperate climate during that portion of the year when yachts are laid up in the mud in England and yachtsmen shiver in the bitter winds, the fogs and frosts of Northern Europe. The travelling yachtsman may either take out his yacht with him, if she be large enough, or if this be deemed to involve too great trouble and expense, he will find but little difficulty in making arrangements to hire a comfortable craft at the Antipodes. The southern coast of Australia, though it possesses many beautiful harbours, is washed by the great rollers of the Pacific, coming up through the 'roaring forties' without anything to break their force, straight from Antarctic regions, to dash themselves in mile-long breakers against the Australian coast. Yachting is therefore better confined to the sheltered harbours, and specially to those which have been selected for the sites of the capital cities of Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney. No more lovely sea exists in the world on which to cruise than that part of the eastern coast of the Australian continent, sheltered as it is from ocean storms by the Great Barrier Reef, extending for miles from Rockhampton to Cape York, along the Queensland coast. Numberless coral islands, the roosting places of countless Torres Straits pigeons that spend the hours of daylight feeding on the mainland, afford abundant sport for the gunner. These pigeons are quick-flying black-and-white birds about the size of the blue rock; they twist and turn in their flight with great rapidity, and tax the gunner's quickness of eye and hand not less than the best blue rocks from the pigeon-cotes of Mr. Hammond. Unfortunately this long stretch of calm blue water is beset with perils from coral reefs so numerous that the traveller is lost in admiration at the skill of Captain Cook as well as at the good fortune which enabled him, in complete ignorance of the dangers now carefully marked on our charts, to escape with but one mishap. Among the apt terms which he applied in all his nomenclature only one, Cape Tribulation, bears witness to the risks which he ran. Still, an enterprising yachtsman, choosing the time of year when the monsoon, blowing softly on these confines of its influence, is in the favourable direction, may start from any of the ports touched by vessels of the British India Steamship Company, and, by careful study of the chart coupled with information obtained from local mariners, may enjoy without great risk a prolonged cruise amid tropical scenery and vegetation as far south even as Brisbane. It is to New Zealand, however, that the yachtsman will turn as the paradise of his sport--abounding in harbours, offering every variety of climate from semi-tropical Auckland to the equable temperature of Cook's Strait, and on to the colder harbours of Stewart's Island--he will find as great variety in scenery as in climate. But let him not imagine that after cruising in Australian waters he may trust himself to the tender mercies of the Tasman Sea, or cross to New Zealand in a small yacht. No more terrible sea exists in either hemisphere. Once arrived in the harbour of Auckland, however, the potentialities which lie before the amateur navigator are boundless. As he passes down the coast from the lighthouse on Cape Maria van Diemen, he will see the entrance to the singular harbour of Whangaroa, where masses of limestone rock lay piled one above another, dominated by the cupola-shaped dome of Mount St. Paul. Either this or the historically more interesting Bay of Islands may be visited in a yacht from Auckland. The Bay of Islands is one of the most beautiful yachting bays in the colony. It has a width of ten miles at the entrance, and is divided in two by a peninsula, while, with the exception of the Onslow Pinnacle rock, which has 19 feet on it at low water, it is devoid of all dangers. Here is the scene of the earliest settlement of the colony. In this bay the fleets of whalers, who trafficked in dried and tattooed human heads, and who had dealings of all kinds with the Maories (not always the most reputable), conducted a lucrative business, which has now ceased entirely. Here the first missionaries established themselves, and here was signed the treaty with the natives which brought the islands under the sovereignty of the Queen, a sovereignty which was not to remain undisputed, save after many bloody contests, and after a loss of life and treasure which still burdens the New Zealander with a load of war taxation, happily not imposed on his neighbour of the Australian continent. In this bay many days may profitably be spent in studying the interesting Maori tribes who dwell on its shores, and of whom none have stood more loyally by the English settlers than those who fought under Tamati Waka Nene. Every sort of provision may be obtained in the bay from the once flourishing town of Russell, while a sufficiently good cheap coal may be procured at Opua. It is around the harbour of Auckland, in the Hauraki Gulf, and the Firth of Thames, however, that the perfection of yachting may be enjoyed. As the traveller approaches the earlier capital of New Zealand he will observe how the aptly named Great and Little Barrier Islands protect the Gulf from the heavy seas of the Pacific, and as the steamer wends its way through the islands that dot the Gulf and opens up the land-locked Firth of Thames on one side and the Waitemata Harbour on the other, he will realise the advantages afforded by the situation of Auckland. Two comfortable and well-managed clubs exercise the proverbial hospitality of colonists to properly accredited arrivals from England. In addition to which the Auckland Yacht Club is an association from which all information as to both cruising and racing will readily be obtained. The history of yachting in New Zealand is of but recent date; for, although for many years races have taken place and regattas been held annually, the competitors were rather the cutters, schooners, and scows that did the coasting trade of the colony before the Union Steamship Company inaugurated their line of well-found, fast and regular coasting steamers to and from every port of New Zealand. These were assisted by the boats and crews of Her Majesty's ships, whose presence was, and still is, ardently in request on Regatta days. The era of pleasure yachts dates from the last eight or ten years, and the Auckland Yacht Club now occupies, in the number of yachts belonging to the squadron, the first place among the Australasian Colonies. The club has one hundred members and the register of yachts exceeds sixty, which does not by any means exhaust the number of vessels used solely as pleasure-boats in the harbour. Colonial yachts, like the great majority of colonial incomes, are not large, and nearly all the boats used are built locally. Shipbuilding is a trade extensively carried on at Auckland. During the year 1875, when the prosperity of that part of the colony was at its highest, not less than forty vessels were built, their aggregate tonnage being 1,930. A few steam yachts, such as the 'Sunbeam,' the 'St. George,' and the R.Y.S. schooner 'Blanche' with auxiliary screw, used by Sir James Fergusson when Governor of the colony, have cruised in New Zealand waters; but a vessel of 20 tons burden is considered among the Tritons of colonial pleasure craft. The 'Thetis,' a small yacht of 10 or 12 tons, was built on the Clyde, and was brought out by five gentlemen, her owners, to the Antipodes. Perhaps the most interesting yacht now sailing in New Zealand waters is the 'Mascotte,' both on account of the circumstances under which she was built, as well as for the remarkable success which has attended her during her sailing career. In the year 1890 a strike in the shipping trade broke out in Australia, and after a few days was extended to other trades connected with shipping, finally spreading to New Zealand. During the enforced idleness of certain shipbuilding hands at Lyttelton, the port of Christchurch, some of the men bethought themselves of laying down the lines of a yacht for themselves. The 'Mascotte,' commenced under these circumstances, was found, when finished, to be an exceptionally fast sailer. Within eighteen months of her completion she was manned and sailed by her owners in six regattas, netting for them 395_l._, besides numerous smaller prizes in club races--not a bad outcome of work which, at the time, was doubtless done with no little amount of grumbling, because no wages were coming in weekly on account of it. The result, however, has been a very considerable falling off in the entries for the races last year. For the Champion Cup at Lyttelton only the 'Tarifa,' rated 8, the 'Mima,' 10, and the 'Maritana,' 14, put in an appearance. The First Class Championship race for 100_l._ at Wellington, the capital, was among those secured by the 'Mascotte.' It is, however, in the cruising opportunities to be found in New Zealand that readers of the Badminton Library will be chiefly interested. Taking Auckland as headquarters, it may safely be asserted that throughout the season the yachtsman may lie in a different creek, harbour, or estuary every night that he is out. He may coast up the north shore till he reaches Waiwera, where he will find an excellent hotel. He can bathe in a large and luxurious hot swimming bath, formed from the thermal springs rising close to the sea, or he may go on to the beautiful island of Kawau, once the property of Sir George Grey, which has been so graphically described by Mr. Froude in 'Oceana.' He may lie in the harbour of Bon Accord, which indents the island a mile and a half, and affords shelter in all weathers. On landing he will find planted by the erstwhile owner of Kawau every sort of tree, shrub, and rare plant that will live either at Madeira or the Cape. He will see the wallaby from Australia, deer, sheep, and wild goats. The beautiful Pohutukawa, or Christmas-tree, covered at Christmas-tide with scarlet blossom, feathering down to the clear blue sea till its lowest branches are covered by the rising tide, so that oysters cluster on them with all the appearance of being the natural fruit. In the rocky depths of the clear water great lazy stingarees may be seen floating along with the tide, like sheets of brown paper flapping idly from side to side in the tide race. A perfectly appointed English country gentleman's house fronts the harbour. Its lawn and park-like slopes are timbered with the forest trees of Europe. The opossum of Australia may be seen nimbly springing from the boughs of an English oak to those of the silver tree of South Africa, the whole being a combination of the flora and fauna of all continents, bewildering to the brain of the naturalist. As the total population of the island is thirty-two, and consists of the family and dependents of the owner, visitors, unless they wish to run the risk of abusing hospitality which is always cordially accorded, must bring a sufficiency of provisions with them. The Little Barrier Island, though possessing no harbour, has several yachting anchorages. It is uninhabited, and is chiefly interesting from the fact that it is the last remaining stronghold of many rare species of New Zealand birds. This is attributable in some degree to its distance from the mainland. The bee has not found its way across to Little Barrier, and the honey-eating birds, driven away from elsewhere by the stings of bees seeking a common food, have made this island their last habitat. It is greatly to be hoped that the New Zealand Government will complete the pending negotiations for its purchase from the natives, so that it may be made into a national park for the preservation of these unique ornithological specimens. Great Barrier Island is larger than the Isle of Wight, being 21 miles long. It is about eight miles eastward of the Little Barrier, and possesses in Port Fitzroy one of the finest harbours in New Zealand. Yachts enter by a channel 1-1/4 mile wide, pass under a remarkable rock resembling the Duke of Wellington's head, and come to Governor's Pass, a narrow channel, 178 feet across, which opens out into an inner harbour three miles in length and more than half a mile wide, surrounded on all sides by high mountains which give complete security from every wind. The harbour is full of fish of every kind, from the little New Zealand herring to the flat stingaree resembling an enormous skate with a formidable spiked tail. Unless the fisherman cuts this off before he proceeds to deal with the fish, he may find one blow from it compel him to seek for several weeks an asylum in the Auckland Hospital. If the yachtsman has on board a seine net, he may realise something of the miraculous draught of fishes mentioned in the Bible. Let him also bring his rifle, for the island is swarming with wild goats, and if he can steel his heart against the piercing and humanlike screams to which they give utterance when wounded, he may, by getting up to the highest ground and stalking them down the mountain-sides, secure more than he will find it possible to get back to his yacht, be he never so impervious to powerful odours. He will, moreover, earn the gratitude of the settlers by so doing, for the goats eat not a little of that pasture which would more profitably be utilised in affording sustenance to the domestic sheep of the island farmers. Many years ago Selwyn Island, at the entrance to the harbour, was stocked with the large silver-grey rabbit, and a good day's shooting may still be had among them, though the skins are no longer of the great value they were when first acclimatised. Having explored the creeks of the Waitemata, which open into the harbour of Auckland to the north, the yachtsman may proceed to cruise in the southern waters of the Hauraki Gulf. On his way he may run in for a few hours to one of the Maori villages, where he will find some very well-to-do natives, owners of valuable property close to Auckland, but who still practise all the old-fashioned Maori customs of cooking and manufacture. He will be interested, too, in the long war canoe with its carved prow, one of the few now remaining in New Zealand. All the islands between the mouth of the gulf and the Firth of Thames are interesting. The most remarkable in appearance is Rangitoto, guarding the entrance to the Auckland harbour. In shape it is a perfect cone. The mountain is an extinct volcano, rising to a height of 920 feet, and presents a precisely similar appearance from whatever aspect it is regarded. The summit of the mountain is composed of masses of scoria, but there is no fresh water on the island. Rangitoto is connected by a sandy neck, a quarter of a mile long, dry at high water, with Motu Tapu, the Sacred Island. Whatever odour of sanctity may have attached to it in earlier days, it is now the island most profaned by the feet of Auckland yachtsmen. Herds of deer scamper across its grassy slopes, and afford excellent stalking to the hospitable owner and his guests. No one who takes care to keep on the shores of the island and refrain from disturbing the deer is likely to be forbidden to shoot a few rabbits. From some of the higher points round the coast he may espy the acclimatised emus stalking over the hills; the pheasants feeding round the edges of the patches of woodland, and the flocks of turkeys, once tame, but which now require the persuasion of the fowling-piece before they can be brought to table. From the Thames the yacht may be taken round to the harbour of Tauranga; this is a quiet and comfortable little town, the harbour land-locked by an island running down to meet a sandy spit. From this spit rises the Mawayanui Rock, 860 ft. in height, conspicuous for miles, both from the land and sea sides of the harbour. The entrance is tortuous, narrow in places, and liable to gusts and eddies when the wind is blowing from the sea, but of considerable capacity inside. Tauranga is close to the scene of a conflict between the Maories and English troops, in which the 68th Regiment lost more officers than did any regiment at Waterloo. It is the best harbour whence to visit the volcano of White Island, and is the nearest also to the Maori Settlements, the hot lakes and springs of the interior of the North Island. White Island is sixty miles off, and the steam blowing off the crater to a height varying from 2,000 to 10,000 feet is clearly visible in fine weather. This island is well worth a visit, though great care must be exercised in landing, for the whole island is so hot that walking is not pleasant, while the clouds of sulphurous steam blowing to leeward are suffocating. It is about three miles in circumference, having in the centre a crater about a hundred yards in circumference, surrounded by steam geysers, which make a roaring, deafening noise, like a hundred engines massed in one engine-room. Although there is no vegetation on the island, the base of the crater gives the appearance of a well-watered meadow in spring. This effect is produced by the bed of crystallised sulphur traversed by the streams from the several geysers. Myriads of sea birds, chiefly gannets, circle round the island, and the remarkable Tuatara lizards may be seen crawling on the hot rocks. There is no harbour in the island, but there is shelter between the principal islet and a little islet half a mile to south-east. Yachting on the west coast of the North Island of New Zealand is less agreeable; there is no convenient centre from which to start on many cruises, and between the harbours are long distances of usually stormy sea. Once inside the Kaipara Harbour a large expanse of rather uninteresting water is available, but the rivers which flow into it are wide and picturesque, afford excellent wildfowl shooting, and are the home of the trade in Kauri timber. The huge logs are cut up by sawmills with giant circular saws. The trunks of the Kauri trees may be seen floating down the rivers from the forests above till they are caught, as they pass the various mills, by baulks stretched at an angle across the stream to intercept their progress. In the same way, once you get across the bar of the Hokianga River, many days may be spent in the land of oranges and lemons. Travelling to the southern end of the North Island to the harbour of Port Nicholson, we come to Wellington, the capital, where the Port Nicholson Yacht Club have their headquarters. An annual regatta is held here in January. The harbour, though magnificent for steamers or vessels of large tonnage, is subject to the gales and sudden squalls which blow through Cook's Strait as through a blast pipe, and therefore not always to be trusted. Not a few sad accidents have happened to small craft sailing on the waters of the harbour. Most enjoyable excursions may be made from Wellington to the sounds on the northern shores of the South Island, but great care should be exercised in crossing Cook's Strait, though the distance to the first sound is but a few miles. The winds are local, and almost invariably north-west or south-east. Yachts running through the Straits should, therefore, be on the look out for a rapid change from the south-east to north-east, or from north-west to south-west, as they open out either entrance. Queen Charlotte and the Pelorus are the most picturesque of these sounds. They resemble somewhat the fiords of Norway, and though they have not the grandeur of the sounds on the west coast of this island, they are remarkable for the soft green contour of their slopes and the striking contrast between sky, shore, and sea which they present in clear weather. Picton, at the head of Queen Charlotte Sound, is picturesquely situated, with a good wharf. Like those in the south, the sounds are so deep (20 to 25 fathoms) that, except in the coves, of which, fortunately, there is no lack, vessels have difficulty in finding an anchorage. Like the harbour of Wellington across the strait, these sounds are liable to many gusts from the mountain gullies, and care should be exercised whenever it is known to be blowing hard outside. Pelorus Sound has even more coves and bays than Queen Charlotte Sound, and no inconsiderable time is necessary to explore the whole of it. There is abundance of both wood and fresh water; in every part excellent fishing with the line may be had. Most of the catch will be new to English fishermen. Rock cod, blue cod, schnapper, the giant hapuka, a sort of cod, and the game kahawai, which will run like a salmon, are the best from a gastronomical and sporting point of view. Enough has been caught by a single line in a day to feed the whole crew of a man-of-war. Every sort of necessary provision is obtainable both at Havelock and Picton, at the heads of the respective sounds. From the northern sounds every traveller will wish to proceed through the remarkable French pass to Nelson in Blind Bay. This bay is singularly free from gales and storms. Often, while a hurricane is tearing and raging through Cook's Strait, calm weather will be found to prevail without disturbance in Blind Bay. The harbour of Nelson is formed by a very remarkable bank 4-1/2 miles in length, covered with huge boulders and forming a natural breakwater to the harbour. There are one or two gaps in the bank at high water where boats and very small vessels may pass over, but the tide runs with such force that it is not advisable to attempt it. The entrance is not more than 50 yards wide, and lies between the bold pinnacle of the Arrow Rock and the barrel beacon at the edge of the Boulder Bank. The entrance is easily effected on the flood, but the tides run very strong in and out of the narrow entrance. The climate of Nelson is perhaps the most perfect in all New Zealand, and the scenery of the bay, with its blue waters and background of snow-covered mountains in winter and early spring, excels anything that can be seen on the Riviera, while the climate closely resembles that of the French littoral of the Mediterranean; the only unpleasantness being the Waimea wind, felt in early spring down the valley of the Waimea, but it is neither so continuous nor so unpleasant as the Mistral of the Riviera. Very pleasant expeditions may be made to Motueka and Collingwood, on the opposite shores of the bay. The Californian quail exists in great abundance on these shores; so much so that the little steamers plying weekly bring sackloads of the birds to Nelson, where they are preserved whole in tins for export. The yachtsman should spend a sufficient length of time in exploring the indentations of the northern coast of the South Island, for next to that of the surroundings of Auckland he is likely to meet with the best weather for his pursuits to be found in New Zealand. If he then wishes completely to exhaust the opportunities which the colony affords him, he may, choosing a fine day and favourable barometric indications, venture on the ocean to the southward. Let him, however, avoid the west coast, where the harbours are few and far between, and where those that exist are rendered difficult of access, save where great expense (as at Westport and Greymouth) has been incurred by the local authorities to erect breakwaters and dredge the bars. It is noteworthy that the harbours on the west coast of both islands, where they are also the estuaries of rivers, have dangerous shifting sand-bars, while those on the east coast are comparatively free from this objection. If the yacht be taken down the east coast to Lyttelton, the traveller will pass in full view of the grand range of snow-covered mountains, the Kaikouras. With a north-easterly wind the sea does not get up to any extent, but if it should change to south there is convenient shelter for small craft at Kaikoura. The harbour of Lyttelton is an indentation of considerable depth and width in Banks Peninsula, which, rising from the flat plains of Canterbury to a height of some 3,000 feet, juts out into the ocean and extends twenty miles from the mainland with an average width of sixteen miles. This peninsula affords plenty of facilities for yachting. Lyttelton has a yacht club, and is connected by eight miles of railway with Christchurch, a town that has always borne the reputation of resembling those of the old country more closely than any other in New Zealand. Inside the harbour are many pleasant anchorages for yachts, especially Quail Island and Ripa Island; also Governor's Bay, a favourite holiday resort of the people of Christchurch. It should be borne in mind that with a north-easterly wind a heavy swell comes rolling up the harbour, but a secure inner harbour of 107 acres has been formed by moles of rubble, where there is perfect safely for vessels of every kind. There are many pleasant cruises to be made from Lyttelton to the various bays and harbours in the peninsula, such as to Port Leny and to Pigeon Bay, formerly a favourite station for whaling vessels; but the most interesting as well as the most beautiful is the harbour of the old French settlement of Akaroa. This harbour penetrates the peninsula to a distance of eight miles. The town of Akaroa is the centre of a fine pastoral district, most picturesquely situated on the slopes of green hills turned into fertile gardens. The French language is no longer to be heard in the streets, but the green 'persiennes' and the white fronts of the older houses bear witness to the nationality of their builders. Lucky it was for the Anglo-New Zealander of to-day that Captain Hobson, Lieutenant-Governor at Auckland in 1840, was both of hospitable intent and impressed with the necessity of 'pegging out claims' for the future of the English race. Lucky, too, that Captain Lavand, on his way to prepare for a shipload of French colonists, stayed to enjoy Captain Hobson's hospitality in Auckland, while the latter, having ascertained his guest's intentions, had time to despatch H.M.'s brig 'Britomart' with all possible speed to Akaroa, so that when the gallant Frenchman arrived he found the smart sailors of the 'Britomart' sitting at the foot of a recently erected flagstaff admiring a Union Jack flying from the top; by virtue of which they claimed the South Island of New Zealand for Queen Victoria in the same manner as Captain Hobson had recently done in the case of the North Island. These same French emigrants, stopping at St. Helena on their way out, visited the tomb of Napoleon, and piously preserved sprays cut from the weeping willows that surrounded it. From these sprays, planted and cherished on their arrival at Akaroa, sprang all the beautiful willows which grow with such rapidity, thrive so remarkably, and are so conspicuous a feature throughout New Zealand. In December of every year a regatta is held at Akaroa, and yachts from all parts of New Zealand, as well as boats' crews of one of H.M.'s ships, come to take part in it. The yachting grounds proper of New Zealand may be said to be completed by the exploration of the peninsula below Christchurch, and yet the most remarkable waters of the colony remain unvisited. These are the sounds of the south-western extremity of the island. To get to them, however, many miles of open ocean must be sailed over. Rarely does the wind blow from the east, and hard threshing against the wind is the usual condition of sailing from the 'Bluff' to the sounds. When they are reached, the giant mountains which hedge them in on every side shut out from some, for days and weeks together, the least puff of wind to fill the sails of the yacht; while the deep gullies running down the sides of the mountains in others admit sudden and violent gusts of wind full of danger to the small sailing craft. There are interesting places to be visited on the way, such as the harbours of Timaru and Oamaru, where man at vast labour and expense has wrested from the violence of the ocean a small space of calm water in the long straight coast line, well named the Ninety-mile Beach, on which the rollers break and roar with ceaseless monotony; or the beautiful harbour of Port Chalmers, leading to Dunedin, the Scotch capital of Otago. The uninviting looking harbour of the Bluff, where the traveller may touch the most southerly lamppost in the world, lies opposite to Stewart's Island, and is separated from it by Foveaux Strait, one of the most extensive oyster beds in the world. There are several fine harbours in Stewart Island, especially the spacious port of Paterson's Inlet, full of coves and bays. Yachts bent on visiting the sounds should be warned that a strong current consequent on the quantity of water pouring down from the mountain torrents is usually found to oppose the entrance of a yacht into each sound, and that it is very rarely that the wind blows strong enough to bring yachts in. Generally speaking, within a mile of the entrance a dead calm with heavy swell will be found, rendering it both difficult and dangerous to make the entrance. Once inside the depth is so great that, except where a river runs in at the head, there is little chance of anchorage, and the vessel must be made fast by tying her to a tree. There is land communication with one sound (Milford) alone, and that only by a foot track. One or two men manage to eke out a hermit's existence in certain of the sounds, but are chiefly dependent on the periodical visits of the Government steamer; otherwise the only living things on the land are the wingless kiwis and kakapos, and an occasional seal lying upon the rocks. Probably no one visiting New Zealand will care to omit a trip to these sounds; but let the yachtsman leave his vessel snugly berthed in the harbour of Lyttelton or Port Chalmers, and pin his faith to the screws of the Union Steamship Company's well-found vessels, rather than to the sails of his own craft. For a yachting expedition to New Zealand the month of January, February, March, or April should be chosen. During these months in the northern parts of the colony and on the coast a N.E. sea breeze sets in daily about ten in the morning, and dying away at sunset is succeeded by a westerly or land wind. The yachtsman may generally reckon on these winds; but if the land wind should not set in towards evening the sea breeze may increase to a gale, when he can remain safe at his anchorage till it has blown itself out--a proceeding which generally occupies not more than twenty-four hours. These gales occur on an average but once in six weeks, and should be looked for when the moon changes or comes to the full. I have already spoken of the winds of Cook's Strait; those likely to be met with between it and Banks Peninsula will be chiefly north-easterly and light in summer. Southerly and south-easterly gales, known as 'southerly busters,' often last three days, and bring cold rain and dirty weather. Very strong, hot north-westers blow across the Canterbury plains to Banks Peninsula, and are particularly drying and unpleasant. Their approach can generally be foretold by a remarkable clearness of the atmosphere, and an arch of cloud over the Southern Alps, showing blue sky between the cloud and the snow peaks. The climate in the central and southern parts of the colony is remarkably like that of Great Britain, with more wind and more sunshine, while the northern part resembles that of the shores of Europe washed by the Mediterranean. Indeed, if one takes the map of New Zealand and turns it upside down, imagining the two islands joined together at Cook's Strait, its general similarity in outline and configuration to Italy will at once become apparent. The Southern Alps, the Spencer Mountains, and the Ruahine Mountains, like the Alps and Apennines in Italy, form the head and backbone of the country. The rich plains of Otago and Canterbury answer to those of Lombardy and the Campagna, while the palms and fern-trees of Auckland wave against a sky as blue as that of Naples. The coast is more indented, the harbours more spacious than those of the Mediterranean; the islands in the north are more numerous, and though the winds blow stronger and the sea runs higher when gales come on, the weather is far less treacherous than that of the Mediterranean, and gives better warning of its approach. For those who wish to enjoy two summers without a winter, to see some of the most remarkable natural phenomena of the world, and the most interesting and most developed savage race with which Englishmen have come in contact; to explore fresh waters; to find an ample supply of good provisions, suited to European requirements; to live among fellow-countrymen who will assuredly give a hearty and hospitable welcome, and to realise something of the extent, the variety and the vastness of the Queen's Empire, I can suggest no better nor more enjoyable cruise during the English winter months than one round the beautiful islands of Antipodean Britain. CHAPTER VIII FOREIGN AND COLONIAL YACHTING FRANCE BY R. T. PRITCHETT [Illustration: Frascati and pierhead at Havre.] The year 1891 will be memorable in the history of French yachting as the date of the beginning of a thorough organisation for the encouragement of what in France is called 'navigation de plaisir,' a term which will soon contract to our simpler word 'yachting.' The French have long, however, had a taste for the sport. For half a century at least Havre has been _en fête_ in the month of July with a great deal of rowing and sailing, encouraged by crowds on the quays of the port, whence they could enjoy the sport much more than if they were afloat. All this is due to the energy and encouragement of the Société des Régates au Havre, under the patronage of the Minister of Marine and the City of Havre. [Illustration: Havre Regatta Chart. Havre.] In the year 1891 the regatta was first conducted in a business-like manner. A yachting tribunal was instituted in Paris to make rules and arrange the details of racing. The society, styled 'Union des Yachts Français,' 45 Rue Boissy d'Anglas, Paris, was very heartily taken up by all the best men in France, and absorbed the other clubs. The President is Contre-Amiral Baron Lagé; Vice-Presidents, M. E. Pérignon, Baron Arthur de Rothschild, Comte Alain de Guébriant, and M. Henri Menier, with a Council of twenty-eight, and a tremendous administration of commissions or committees for everything. The list of members amounts to 520, and their yacht list comprises over 300 vessels of sorts and sizes. [Illustration: Harbour at Havre.] [Illustration: Nice Regatta Chart.] After Havre, Nice ranks as a French yachting centre. The regatta is always held about the 12th to 15th of March--a time of the year when we are generally experiencing a kind of weather which totally removes any idea of yachting from our minds. The Union des Yachts Français patronise this _fête nautique_, which is sometimes assisted by English yachts that are in the Mediterranean; for instance, Lord Dunraven's 'Valkyrie' has been amongst them, and Lieut. W. Henn's 'Galatea,' he being a member of the Club Nautique, 8 Quai Masséna, Nice, a club founded in 1883, with rather more than one hundred members. At the present time several English gentlemen belong to it. Their 'Siège' is No. 12 Rue St. François de Paula à Nice. These foreign yacht races do not offer any inducements to our finer and larger craft, as few of the competitors are over 20 tons. The City of Nice gives good prizes, as under:-- _Above 20 tons_ Francs 1st Prize for yachts above 20 tons, } 'City of Nice' } 5,000 and gold medal 2nd Prize for yachts above 20 tons, } 'City of Nice' } 2,500 and silver medal 3rd Prize for yachts above 20 tons, } 'Société des Bains de Monaco' } 1,000 and silver medal _Under 10 tons_ 1st Prize for yachts under 10 tons, } 'Monte Carlo' } 1,500 and gold medal 2nd Prize for yachts under 10 tons, } 'Monte Carlo' } 750 and silver medal 3rd Prize for yachts under 10 tons, } 'Monte Carlo' } 400 and bronze medal The courses are very short--about 11-1/2 miles in the triangle once round; and in the race from Nice to the flagboat off Monaco the course there and back is only about 19 miles. The whole arrangements are carried out according to the rules and regulations of the U.Y.F., which have given great satisfaction at Nice as well as at Havre. It was at Nice that the idea of a race for steam yachts was first carried out. Two vessels entered, and only two; and as the 2nd prize and medal was 120_l._, they both had something to try for. The two were the 'Eros,' 850 tons, Baron A. Rothschild, and 'Francisca.' The 'Eros' won the first prize, 600_l._ and medal. [Illustration: 'Valkyrie,' No. 1. _53 tons_ (_Commendatore Florio, Nice Yacht Club_).] GERMANY His Majesty the Emperor William having bought the English yacht 'Thistle,' 170 tons, and Prince Henry of Prussia having built a new 40-rater, the 'Irene,' designed by G. L. Watson (as also a small rater, the 'Niny,' from Arthur E. Payne), the idea of an Imperial German Yacht Club naturally arose, and in 1891 one was established at Kiel, a place admirably adapted for the purpose. The whole matter was taken up so heartily along the coast that there are at the present time more than 550 members belonging to the club. Of course the number of yachts is not in proportion as yet, but this will gradually develope, and in the meantime it is very pleasant to know that the 'Thistle' has become the mother of such a club. SWEDEN The Swedish Club, established 1832, is very strong, having five yachting stations--Stockholm, Goteborg, Norrköping, Malmö, and Ornskoldsirk--the members owning vessels of good tonnage, schooners, screw steamers, cutters and yawls, numbering over 170. CANADA BY G. L. BLAKE Yachting in Canada dates back as a pastime almost to the first days of its colonisation. Halifax, Toronto, and Quebec can boast of yacht clubs which were formed long before the seventies, one of the oldest, if not the oldest, being the Royal Canadian Yacht Club at Toronto, which was started as far back as the year 1852, and now has a fleet of forty yachts and more. On Lake Ontario, a superb sheet of water some 200 miles long by 40 in breadth, with a depth in places of over 100 fathoms, and well adapted for either cruising or racing, the sport has been cultivated as a science for many years, so much so in fact that, in 1873, a leading authority on such matters wrote, 'Yachting is fast becoming the national pastime of Canada.' In 1872 there were yachting stations at Toronto, Coburg, Kingston, Hamilton,--the club at Hamilton was made a Royal Club in 1888--Belleville, and other ports on the confines of the Lake, where numerous regattas have been held each season; but, as the prosperity of colonial yachting entirely depends on the state of trade, these small communities have seen many ups and downs. During Lord Dufferin's tenure of office as Governor of Canada a great impetus was given to things maritime, and the author of 'Letters from High Latitudes,' who owned and sailed a small 7-tonner at the time, lent a very able helping hand to all that concerned yachting in Canadian waters. Yachts of all descriptions are to be found there, from the small skimdish of a 'sharpie,' with its enormous centreboard and cloud of canvas, to the stately schooner of 200 tons and over. In 1872 there were only one or two vessels of English design or build on Ontario (which is practically the chief yachting centre), of which the best known was the little 'Rivet,' 17 tons, that had been built at Glasgow and was brought out in frame some years before. At the present time, however, anyone visiting Ontario would see many old Scotch and English favourites cruising about; more than one of our smartest 10- and 5-tonners are now registered on Canadian books, while most of our principal yacht designers have representatives of their skill flying racing flags and built to the Canadian tonnage rule. As there is communication with the ocean by canal and river _viâ_ Montreal, Quebec and the St. Lawrence, besides through canal with New York, yachts from outports are not infrequent visitors, and they take part from time to time in the several local regattas. The lake, as might be expected, is often troubled by severe squalls, which now and then, if of long continuance, create a very heavy sea disturbance. Luckily, this does not occur very often, though moderately greasy weather sometimes has its advantages in giving tone and colour to the enjoyments of open sea navigation. Of the principal Canadian outports, Halifax and Quebec are the oldest and most sporting. The Royal Nova Scotia Yacht Club, which was established in 1875, and is stationed at Halifax, is one of the leading clubs in the Dominion; that at Quebec dates back over twenty years; and the St. Lawrence Club, at Montreal, with its fleet of eighty yachts, some five years. At Halifax there used to be a very sporting club, called the Royal Halifax Yacht Club, which would hold precedence of the R.N.S.Y.C., as one of the oldest societies of the kind in Canada, did it exist as such, but it is believed to have been blended into the latter club and to have assumed its new name. Canada is rich in all the necessaries that are called into play in ship-and yacht-building, the woods she provides for the purpose being some of the finest in the world. Nothing can come up to her timbers, such as the spruce, yellow and red pine varieties, either for length, evenness of grain, or freedom from knots, and it is to Canada that we in England are so deeply indebted for most of the timber used in our shipbuilding yards. AUSTRALIA In Australia yachting has had, and in some places still has, a hard fight to assert itself against the exciting sport of horse-racing. The oldest yachting community is that stationed at Sydney, New South Wales, where the two leading clubs date back to the years 1863 and 1867, viz. the Royal Sydney Yacht Squadron, and the Prince Alfred Yacht Club. Yacht-racing, however, was carried on long before those years, and perhaps owing to the fine piece of water, some twelve square miles in area, enclosed within Port Jackson Heads, which lends itself to aquatic pursuits, yachting here has taken greater hold of the inhabitants than at any other place in the Southern Ocean. No finer boat sailers exist anywhere than at Sydney. There are a goodly number of yachts connected with the Port, and no money or care has been spared to keep the Sydney fleet up to date. Both Messrs. G. L. Watson and W. Fife, jun., to say nothing of other well-known designers, have from time to time given a helping hand towards furthering this end. The classes, however, which give the most sport, and which can draw together 5,000 or more onlookers during a racing day, are those that include the open boats. These are altogether a speciality of Sydney. The limits of the three principal classes are--for the First Class.--24 ft. length, with not less than 7 ft. beam, and 3 ft. depth. Second Class.--19 ft. length, with not less than 6.5 ft. beam, and 30 in. depth. Third Class.--17 ft. length, with not less than 5 ft. beam, and 20 in. depth. These boats are all centreboarders. When in Australia the writer was shown the 'Victor' as the finest example at that time of the large class. She was 34 ft. long, had 8 ft. beam, and a depth of 3 ft. A description of her was given in 'Hunt's Yachting Magazine' some years ago. She was built of colonial cedar, and of 1/2-in. planking. Her frames were of bent elm, the sternpost and knees of tea-tree, while her keel was of tallow-wood. Her draught aft was 21 in., and forward 2 in., with the crew of sixteen men on board. She carried a racing centreboard of 1/4-inch plating, 9 ft. long, and 6 ft. deep, with a double drop, allowing the plate when lowered to hang with its length horizontal to the keel. For ordinary occasions the racing centreboard was unshipped, and a smaller one substituted in its place. No dead ballast is allowed in these boats, and two air-tight or cork cushions are carried under the thwarts, because no boat is permitted to start for a race unless she possesses sufficient buoyancy to keep afloat should she happen to turn turtle or capsize. The 'Victor' was fitted, like all the boats of her class, with stringers running fore and aft, about two feet from the gunwale, which allowed the crew to sit double-banked, the outside contingent on the weather gunwale, with their feet under the stringer, the inside on the stringer itself. When shifting from the starboard to the port tack, or _vice versâ_, both outside and inside men go over at the same time, the inside men becoming outside, and the outside of the previous tack becoming inside. The 'Mantura' and 'Craigielee' are also fine specimens of the 24-feet class. Photographs of these two boats under way are hung in the billiard-room of the Royal Clyde Yacht Club House. The wood these boats are planked with is fine, hard, durable stuff; and lends itself, when finished off, to the formation of a beautifully smooth surface, which readily takes a good polish. This colonial cedar is used for deck-fittings, &c., and takes the place of mahogany with us. New South Wales is certainly very bountiful to yacht-builders in its supply of timber for all purposes connected with their trade, though New Zealand has to supply the pine-wood for yachts' decks. For floors three native woods are employed--honeysuckle, white mahogany, and tea-tree--while iron bark, so well known for its value in the building of whalers, is excellent for knees and suchlike. All these woods offer strong, naturally grown shapes, and forks of the most acute angles. Spotted gum is generally employed for bent timbers; another wood is found in the tallow-tree, which is very suitable for keels, owing to its hard yet oily nature. From its position the harbour suffers from uncertain winds, but should there be a clear sky and a hard north-easter there need be no fear that the racing will not prove of the very best. The regatta course forms an obtuse-angled triangle, and as a short stretch has to be taken across the mouth of the harbour, it not infrequently happens that a very uncomfortable sea has to be negotiated before the second buoy can be rounded for the run home. Hobson's Bay is a much larger tract of water, being close upon ninety miles in circumference. It is not, however, navigable in all parts owing to extensive shoals. These, though very much in the way of navigation, help to form a kind of breakwater to the anchorages off Sandridge and Williamstown, which are open to southerly and south-westerly winds, and would accordingly, but for them, be often swept by very heavy seas. The principal yacht club is the Royal Yacht Club of Victoria, established at Melbourne; but there are numerous small yacht and boat clubs scattered about the colony at various towns, such as Sandhurst, Bendigo and Ballarat, where there are lagoons or lakes varying in size from three to many miles in circumference. The Albert Park Yacht Club, at Melbourne, is a good type of one of these inland institutions. The yachts or boats employed on the Albert and Ballarat lagoons range from 14 feet to 30 feet over all, They have great beam, and because the depth of water is as a rule shallow, have rarely over 4 feet to 5 feet draught. Good sport is obtained out of them, and races are continually taking place. At Geelong, which is a fine natural harbour about forty miles from Melbourne, and off the open anchorages of St. Kilda and Brighton, yachts are moored during the season, and at these places are to be found any number of yachting enthusiasts. The club course is a very good one for trying the respective merits of competing yachts, and many an exciting race has been sailed over it. Intercolonial regattas have been held, which have proved great successes, and for these, owners of yachts of 40 tons and under think nothing of working their way from port to port over an expanse of a thousand miles or so of ocean. The yachts built in the colony are framed and planked with the wood of the red gum-tree, which is, in fact, the only wood the colony produces that is of any real value for the yacht-builder's use. It takes the place of larch or pitch-pine with us. Both Adelaide, in South Australia, and Auckland, in New Zealand, possess yacht clubs, and are the homes of many keen lovers of yacht racing. The Royal South Australian Yacht Squadron, at the former place, has been in existence for almost a quarter of a century. The New Zealand yachtsmen can boast of possessing in their midst perhaps the finest woods in the world, and nothing can beat the kauri pine for decks, though in England and other countries it is generally known only for the excellent masts and spars that can be got out of it. A Scotch builder once reported that he found it very apt to twist and warp; but most likely the wood had been cut badly, for that is not the general opinion regarding it in the colonies, where it is almost invariably employed for decks. New Zealand, however, has been treated at length in the preceding chapter. BOMBAY, ETC. At Bombay, Malta and Hong Kong regular annual regattas are held, besides numerous matches and races during the yachting seasons. British built or designed yachts, to say nothing of those produced by local talent, are to be met with in all three ports. At Malta and Bombay very flourishing Royal Yacht Clubs exist. [Illustration: Lateen yachts, Bombay Club, 1887.] The yachts at Malta are principally cutter or Bermuda rigged vessels, and range from 20-tonners downward. The Royal Bombay Yacht Club possesses a house beautifully situated near the Apollo Bunda, or main pier, and the yacht anchorage is within hail of the club lawn. About two dozen or more yachts make use of it, among them being steamers and vessels of every method of fore-and-aft rig. Two or three are British built, and among these is the easily recognised little 3-tonner 'Senta,' so well known in Kingstown during the palmy racing days of the 3-tonner class. One of the latest additions to the fleet is a small Clyde-built yacht something under 5 tons, with the fashionable fiddle-headed bow. This boat the writer saw under way. There were a number of dhows, large enough to carry three or four such yachts inboard, making up harbour with a fine sailing breeze just a point abaft the beam, which placed them on one of their best points of sailing. They appeared to be slipping through the smooth water at a high speed, leaving it as clean as if it had never been disturbed, and everything was in their favour for making a quick passage. The little Clyde boat had been knocking about the harbour and was well astern of the dhows, when she was hove round and made to stand on after them. Favoured with the same wind, gradually she began to draw up to them, and bit by bit overhauled and passed each one, leaving them in a manner which made me doubt very much whether the rate of speed with which dhows are so often credited can really be so great. The dhow-rigged racing yachts make very good reckonings. They have considerable draught forward, with a small draught aft, and the foremast (the masts rake forward) has its step almost over where the largest body and the greatest draught happens to be. These yachts, like all vessels of a similar rig and build, are never tacked, but are always gybed, and naturally in a triangular course they lose much time when racing against cutters and schooners. [Illustration: Royal Bombay Yacht Club. 1886. Sailing Course.] The rules of the Yacht Racing Association, with the measurements, regulations, and time allowances, have been adopted by most of, if not all, the clubs mentioned in the Australias and elsewhere, and nothing can equal the cordial reception accorded to all lovers of yachting who visit their colonial cousins. It is only to be desired that, as in rowing and cricket, so in yachting, a systematic and frequent interchange of friendly contests may soon be inaugurated between them and their mother-country which shall eventuate in a general enlightenment all round on things pertaining to yachting. BERMUDA BY R. T. PRITCHETT The Bermudian's hobby is going to windward, and to be really happy he must have a semicircular fin or plate on his keel like that described by Lord Pembroke. Bermuda has a Royal Yacht Club which gives prizes and holds regattas at Hamilton. There is also a Dinghy Club, of which the Princess Louise is Lady Patroness. Lord and Lady Brassey each presented a Challenge Cup when they visited Hamilton in 1883 in the 'Sunbeam.' One class here deserves special notice. 'Fitted Races' are the chief joy of the true Bermudian. The owner apparently gives up his boat to the fiendish devices of his 'pilot,' as the nigger boatman is called, who gets the biggest mast, spars and sails he can find, often a 50-foot mast in a 25-foot boat, and a 35- or 40-foot boom topping up with a huge square-sail as big as a ship's maintop-gallant-sail. He then collects all the other niggers he can find, dresses them in striped jerseys and caps, puts them up to windward, over a ton and a half of shifting ballast, serves out a lot of rum all round, and off they go, generally with the head of the mainsail lashed (no halliard) to the masthead, so that she must carry her whole sail all through the race or swamp. The present writer's experience is confined to many good dustings in that admirable craft the 'Diamond,' with her very able skipper Burgess, coloured gentleman (_bien culotté_), both of which were lent to Lady Brassey by Admiral Sir Edmund Commerell. She was built of cedar, and her lines and midship section are given in Dixon Kemp's 'Boat-sailing.' [Illustration: Fitted races at Bermuda, 1863.] _Dimensions of average Bermudian boat of 5 tons_ Length 25 ft. Mast 44 ft. Boom 33 ft. Bowsprit 19 ft. Spinnaker boom 25 ft. General rule, greatest girth + length = height of mast and hoist. Mr. Charles Ricardo, Secretary of Upper Thames Sailing Club, who sailed with the owner of the 'Cara,' a 28-foot boarder, kindly furnishes the following description of a Fitted Race. The morning of the race it blew hard, and we sailed out to the leeward mark-boat half under water, the 'Cara' having only about 14 in. freeboard, and on board there were six hands, a big spinnaker boom, and some two dozen so-called sandbags for shifting. These had been apparently filled with mud, not sand, and as they rapidly got soaked, we looked more like navvies fresh from a clay-pit than boat sailers. There are many gradations of dirt and various degrees of saturation from salt water, but this combination is unapproachable. We caught a line from the mark-boat and shifted jib, owner going out on the bowsprit for this function, and getting a couple of green seas well in the small of his back--it didn't matter. We were well soaked already, so more or less was quite immaterial to us. We were hanging on to the stake-boat some time, waiting for the other craft to arrive, with nothing particular to do but bale out and try to dodge the things kicking about in the bottom of the boat. I had no shoes on, and there was one baler. I thought I had put it into a locker three times, and was watching the wretched thing edge out again and prepare to fall on my toes, sharp edge down of course, when the owner sung out lustily, 'Boat bearing down to hang on!' She was a regular Bermudian with 'fitted' gear, enormous spars, and her big sail up, a crew of coloured gentlemen crowded up to windward, and foaming through it like a tugboat after a homeward-bounder. She had to gybe under our stern and run lip alongside the mark-boat, and--Swish, over came the boom again; swish, went the end of it into the water. She heeled over tremendously, and did not seem to right, as she ought to have done. We guessed at once what had happened: her ballast was to leeward--those mud bags--it had not been shifted in time as she came round, and of course kept her on her beam ends; she gradually settled down and sank in about four minutes. The water was full of yelling niggers, who mostly swam for us; there seemed to be some hundred of them--anyway they yelled like it. They nearly swamped us scrambling in; finally we got rid of them on to the mark-boat, and very glad we were, as a few dozen damp niggers all asking at the same time for drinks are not much fun in a small boat with a bit of a sea on. At the time it was not enjoyable; still it is an episode in yachting experiences which grows more pleasant to refer to as it looms astern and becomes ancient history. When one starts for a day's sport, it is weak to allow a trifling incident like this to mar the even tenor of its way, and at Bermuda one dries so soon. A great deal of dinghy racing is done at St. George's, and it will be well to notice here the peculiarity of these boats and their gear. The normal dimensions of the dinghy are as follows:-- Length 14 ft. Beam 4 ft. 6 in. Draught 2 ft. Mast 25 ft. to 30 ft. Boom 25 ft. Bowsprit 15 ft. Dinghies are fearfully and wonderfully made things, with their plate on as in the big boats, the sails lashed up and set in. Five lunatics come next in the prescription; these embark very gingerly indeed--quite a bit of fancy work--while some one holds on to the mast from the top of the wharf to prevent accident, and when they think they are ready and balanced they are shoved off. Directly she feels the wind over she goes, and four hands stretch out to windward as far as possible, the fifth being busy baling, which is a most important feature of dinghy sailing. A very exciting amusement it is. As long as the boats can be kept right side up they do go a tremendous pace. Waiting about before the race and gybing are the most exciting and dangerous times, as three dinghies have been known to capsize in one race before starting. Bathing costume is considered the correct thing, and is well adapted to the climate; it is also desirable in this sport to be able to swim, as there is no room in the boats for such superfluities as life-belts. The 'Diamond' was a very fine boat, and splendid in a wind; as the mainsail represents the usual mainsail and jackyarder all in one, the whole sail-area forms the desirable equilateral triangle a little aft to send her up to the wind. [Illustration: Bermuda rig.] The fitting of the boom is different from any other rig, as it passes on one side beyond the mast; a tail block hauls the boom right aft, and counteracted by the mainsheet gives a very flat sail indeed; great results are obtained, all the advantages of a standing lug on a large scale being secured, while the tension can be increased and the canvas made flatter. Space cannot be afforded for her lines, midship section and sail-plan, good as they are, still 'Diamond' is decidedly a good cedar-built representative craft:-- Length on water-line 34 ft. Beam 11 ft. 2.5 in. Draught 6 ft. 6 in. The extravagances of Bermudian water frolics have been given here as very extreme instances of yachting enjoyments; still Bermuda is a splendid place for sailing. You can leave the island on a Friday for New York, arriving on Monday; leave New York on Tuesday, and in a week more be back in the old country. [Illustration: Dutch ice boat of present time.] CHAPTER IX SOME FAMOUS RACES BY R. T. PRITCHETT [Illustration: 'Waterwitch,' 331 tons (Earl of Belfast) and 'Galatea,' 179 tons. The start for a race for 1,000 guineas, September 1, 1834.] In former days, matches were made between yachts as between horses on the turf, and the stakes were often heavy, but such events are now almost unknown; the increase in the number of craft has divided the attention of the public, and the performance of each vessel is so well known that there are no dark sea-horses to bring out as a surprise. The records of bygone matches are, however, far from easy to obtain, if, indeed, they are obtainable. Newspapers were formerly less numerous than they are at present, nor did there apparently exist much thirst for information and minute detail on the part of the public. Accounts remain, however, of some few of the most important matches. One for a thousand guineas, August 29, 1771, sailed between the Duke of Richmond and Sir Alexander Smith, the course being from Brighton to Beachy Head and back, has been already mentioned, but from this date much search has yielded scanty results. The war must have interfered greatly with the sport, for there is a long lapse of time when yachting scarcely came at all under the notice of the press. The Royal Yacht Squadron's fine class of schooners and vessels of large tonnage, however, created and revived rivalry. On September 1, 1834, a great race for one thousand guineas took place between 'Waterwitch,' brig, 331 tons, belonging to the Earl of Belfast, and 'Galatea,' schooner, 179 tons; in this race Mr. Charles Ratsey sailed, and he is now hale and hearty in Cowes. The course was from the Nab Lightship, round the Eddystone Lighthouse, and back. The start took place at 10 A.M., on the Monday morning, when the weather was fine, wind tolerably fresh from south and west. The first day, in the afternoon, the wind fell light, almost a calm at 7 P.M., the yachts being then only off Dunnose, Isle of Wight. The schooner at this time was two miles to windward. On Tuesday, at 7 P.M., the two yachts were off Berry Head, Torbay, the schooner 'Galatea' still to windward. About this time, as the breeze freshened, she had the misfortune to carry away her jibboom, and got too close under Bolthead by the Start, thereby losing her tide. They rounded the Eddystone nearly together; from which point, both running large, the brig gradually drew away from the schooner, and finally reached the Nab Lightship at 2 P.M. on Wednesday, September 3, 'Galatea' coming in at 2.20 P.M. The course was about 130 miles, and the time occupied 52 hours. The race, in August 1842, also round the Eddystone, in an easterly gale, between 'Corsair,' 80 tons, and 'Talisman,' 84 tons, is justly celebrated. 'Corsair' won by 1 min. 30 secs. Two pictures of this race were painted by Condy, of Plymouth. Running down channel 'Corsair' is represented with a mizzen, which Mr. Charles Ratsey informed the writer was stuck in at the last minute and was carried away turning to windward; she is therefore shown without one on her return. [Illustration: 'Corsair' and 'Talisman' race round Eddystone, August 1842, 'Corsair' winning.] There was talk of a race between the Marquis of Anglesey's 'Pearl' and Mr. J. Weld's 'Alarm' for a thousand guineas, but it never came off; in fact, the Marquis never raced her from the time 'Pearl' was built in 1821 to the year of his death, 1854. The 'Mosquito,' with Captain John Nichols at the tiller, once came out on his weather, and the Marquis very politely dipped his ensign to the yacht that weathered him for the first time in all his years of cruising. The 'Arrow' and 'Mosquito' once finished a fine race, which was a marvellously close thing between them, 'Arrow,' 6 hrs. 59 mins. 30 secs., 'Mosquito,' 6 hrs. 59 mins. 31 secs.! [Illustration: 'Talisman,' 84 tons, and 'Corsair,' 80 tons, race, 1842.] A very good account is handed to us of how yachtsmen more than half a century since--in 1830--enjoyed a real rough day's sailing on the Thames. A cup had been subscribed for of the value of fifty guineas, and all the cracks of the day entered for it:-- tons Matchless 19 Vixen 19 Lady Louisa 13 Fairy 13 Daisy 19 Venus 13 Rob Roy 16 Brilliant 8 Donna del Lago 9 Ariel 8 [Illustration: Lines and midship section of 'Corsair,' built by M. Ratsey, Cowes, 1832. Length for tonnage, 57 ft. 9 in.; breadth, 18 ft. 6 in.; tonnage, 84-84/94.] [Illustration: 'Yseult' _10-rater_ (_P. Donaldson, Esq._) _Designed by Fife_, 1892.] The race was from Greenwich to Gravesend and back, and it certainly was not lacking in interest. The sport began early. 'Matchless' carried away her boom, running into 'Lady Louisa's' quarter; 'Lady Louisa's' bowsprit caught 'Rob Roy's' backstay, and she followed 'Matchless' ashore, dragging 'Lady Louisa' after her. At this time 'Daisy' was leading. Soon after 'Brilliant' became first and 'Ariel' second boat. In Erith Reach on the return 'Venus' was waterlogged. 'Donna del Lago' carried away her bowsprit; 'Vixen' carried away outhaul, and when she got into Erith Roads 'Vixen's' mast went by the board. Finally 'Brilliant' won by 1 minute from 'Ariel,' who was second. They were both reefed down to the balance-reef, as shown in the illustration taken from an old print. Balance-reefs are seldom seen nowadays, although they are occasionally carried by fishing craft. [Illustration: 'Brilliant' and 'Ariel' race, 1830.] There was one day's racing in 1892 which should be handed down as a remarkable instance of what the new boats can do in a stress of weather. It was Largs Regatta, July 12, when the Largs men witnessed and took part in the kind of sport they so dearly love; they are severe critics, but give honour where honour is due, especially to weatherly craft and good seamanship. The wind was from the east, freshening up towards the time for the start. Unfortunately 'Meteor' and 'Iverna' were not competing, the former having damaged her gaff. The forties were there, four in number--'Queen Mab,' 'Corsair,' 'Varuna,' and 'White Slave'--the 'Mohican' was flagship, in line with a flag on Largs Pier. It was a truly wild morning, white squalls being frequent and severe. The Firth was all spoondrift; 'Queen Mab' and 'Varuna' had housed topmasts, one reef down, 'Corsair' topmast on end. Under Knockhill the squalls were tremendously heavy, very patchy and local. Off Skelmorlie the racers got the true east wind hard, and found the flagboat dragging her anchor. They rounded, however: 'Queen Mab' was timed 11 hrs. 8 mins. 16 secs., 'Varuna,' 11 hrs. 8 mins. 52 secs. Coming over towards Largs they got into a lull, when 'Corsair' set her gaff-topsail, 'Mab' and 'Varuna' getting topmasts on end; the latter set her topsail, the former did not. Soon a mighty rush of wind burst down from between Tomont End and Largs. At the 'Knock' again there was a kind of vacuum-cum-Mäelström. Soon after, in a wilder phase of Clyde weather, 'Mab' and 'Varuna' were caught by a fierce squall and laid down to it. 'Corsair,' unfortunately, was the victim of a squall spout, which carried away her mast close to the board--such was the strain that something must have gone. The 'White Slave,' belonging to Mr. F. W. L. Popham, was at this time off the Knock; she took in her topsail, and nearing 'Corsair' further reduced her canvas, lowering her mainsail to assist her. Ultimately 'Corsair' was towed by Duncan, of 'Madge' fame. Skelmorlie mark was rounded at 12 hrs. 42 mins. 30 secs. by 'Queen Mab,' at 12 hrs. 45 mins. 12 secs. by 'Varuna.' After this all was flying spoondrift and canvas reduced to two sails--the wind harder than ever. Smoking bows were the order of the day, clouds of spray soaked the mainsails nearly to the peak, gaffs were like rainbows in curve, all hands were warily standing by to lower foresail or meet the next emergency. 'Queen Mab' finished in 1 hr. 43 mins. 35 secs., 'Varuna' 1 hr. 49 mins. 33 secs. Parker sailed 'Queen Mab,' Gould 'Varuna,' Sycamore 'Corsair.' It was indeed a hard blow, and a fine display of yacht handling and good seamanship under most trying circumstances; the 'Yseult,' 10-tonner, lost her bowsprit, and everybody lost something. All credit to the skippers, who never lost their heads. [Illustration: 'Iverna' (J. Jameson, Esq.) and 'Meteor' (H.I.M. The Emperor of Germany). _Dead heat in the Clyde, July 4, 1892._] The '6-rater' match seemed to be the joy of Largs, especially on this occasion, when the weather enabled the crews to show what the Irish boats could do. So much damage had been done that three only were left to start: 'Red Lancer,' Col. Crawford, 'Savourna,' Mr. H. L. Mulholland, and 'Windfall,' Mr. Gubbins. They seemed to revel in the storm; 'blow high, blow low,' was all the same to them. More would have started had they not been unhappily crippled in one way or the other, but those that did were nearly blown out of the water. The maxim of 'Batten down' was in every case emphasised. After a tremendous experience of what the Clyde can do to encourage real seamanship and fearless daring 'Savourna' came in at 2 hrs. 3 mins., and 'Red Lancer,' 2 hrs. 3 mins. 39 secs; 'Red Lancer' taking 1st prize, 'Savourna' 2nd prize. Largs Regatta in 1892 will long be remembered; it was no flat racing, but real steeplechasing in the Clyde. 1892 also leaves us a dead heat between the two champions of the season, the 'Iverna' and the 'Meteor.' This occurred at the Royal Clyde Club, July 4, 1892; wind W.N.W., a fine breeze, both carrying jibheaders at the finish, as shown in the illustration. 'Iverna' led by 19 seconds--3 hrs. 25 mins. 28 secs., allowing 'Meteor' 19 seconds; 'Meteor' finished at 3 hrs. 25 mins. 47 secs. Dead heat. This was sailed off, July 8, in the Wemyss Bay programme, and resulted in a very fine race, topmasts struck, first reef down in mainsail--real going, both vessels made the most of and thoroughly well handled. Mr. William Jameson and O'Neil were on 'Iverna,' and Gomes was at the tiller of 'Meteor.' It was a grand exhibition of yacht-racing, and finished, 'Iverna,' 4 hrs. 18 mins. 26 secs., 'Meteor,' 4 hrs. 21 mins. 22 secs. CHAPTER X RACING IN A 40-RATER IN 1892 BY R. T. PRITCHETT Most of the races described in these volumes are from the standpoint of the looker-on ashore, or else on board some vessel which was not competing; the present chapter describes a race from that point of vantage, the deck of the winning yacht. [Illustration: Going aloft.] Cowes in the early morn is not generally known to visitors. The 'wood and brass work'--a term better known on board than on shore--is now in full swing, for this admirable function must be completed by eight bells. If cleanliness be next to godliness, surely yachts have very much to commend them, with their spotless decks, bleached runners, and immaculate canvas. In leaving the pontoon for the offing, the various craft increase in size as the water deepens. First the small raters are passed, 1/2-, 1-, 2-1/2-raters, 'Wee Winn,' 'Polynia,' 'Hoopoo,' and 'Kitten'--described by 'Thalassa' in his Solent chapter. Passing the tens and twenties the French yachts are reached, for of late years the burgee of the French club is often seen at Cowes, and the American flag is more frequent than of yore. The Guard-ship now looms. The Royal yacht, 'Victoria and Albert,' is at her buoy, the Royal Yacht Squadron nobly represented. Eight bells now strike. Immediately the morning flutter of bunting flies to the mastheads, where all the burgees should arrive simultaneously, taking the time from the flagship--but they do not, unfortunately. (N.B.--Racing flags can be lashed before eight bells, as they have no halliards.) By this time we see the 40 just astern of a yawl and ahead of a Frenchman. 'Queen Mab' is basking and glistening in the bright morning sunshine, in perfect repose, yet rather fretting to be off, for with her colour she knows what is coming. Having come alongside very carefully, without touching the varnish, we are soon on board, and find all in motion. The business of the day has begun, the preliminary functions are completed, such as sending the gig away with the superfluous gear of squeegees, mops, oars. The 12-ft. dinghy is already lashed over the skylight, with the stem wedged up to the coaming abaft of the companion. The tyers are off the mainsail, and it is soon on the hoist. The crew are going aloft, to string down on the throat halliards; gradually the peak rises, well up, about 45°, and with the modern lacing down to the boom the sail soon becomes fairly set. Next, the gaff topsail. In America, in the 'Puritan' and other racers, photography shows that they start with two, jibheader and jackyarder or club foresail, so called from the club or yard at the foot. In the 'Vigilant,' the jackyarder was set most cleverly over the jibheaded topsail when running back in the final race. In joining a racer there is nothing so comfortable for host and guest too as being on board in good time. With a flying start it is very important to be under way to the minute, especially in light winds and with a tide running, such as the swill in Cowes Roads generally is, whether spring or otherwise. It is no joke for a boatman to catch a racer once under way, even without her head sails, in the offing, to say nothing of the anathemas of the owner, and the skipper's suppressed comments. Soon comes the welcome of the owner of 'Queen Mab,' Col. T. B. C. West, well known in the yachting world in connection with that grand yawl 'Wendur,' 143 tons, T.M., built in 1883, his famous 10-rater 'Queen Mab' in the Clyde, and now the 'Queen Mab' of 1892. The forties are a very prominent class and justly so; they emphasise the sport of class racing over handicaps. About this time the racing flags of other craft are a subject of intense interest, and the crew are immensely keen. Should an old adversary not be getting under way, the why and wherefore will be at once discussed; this generally brings out prominently any hand of the 'sea lawyer' class, if the owner has unfortunately shipped one. The head sails have now been set, and we are curvetting and pirouetting about waiting for preparatory gun. There is no doubt that wonderful skill is shown in the handling of the various craft. A dexterity and firmness are apparent which could never be secured with the American system of adjusted time: thus if 'Vigilant' were four minutes late at the start, that time would be deducted from the winner at the finish. Now comes the full excitement of the start. 'First gun, sir; fifteen minutes to go!' is the word, and for the next eighteen minutes all is extra wariness, sometimes fourteen yachts under way, manoeuvring, and keenly watching each other. 'Blue Peter, sir, five minutes!' is next heard. The owner, watch in hand, by the skipper, records the fleeting moments as they pass, calling out the minutes: at length it comes to 1 min., 50 secs., 40 secs., 30 secs., 20 secs. 'How much, sir?' 'Ten seconds'; then 'Let her go!' and she goes--with her cranse iron over the line directly after the gun. Everyone now turns attention to the recall numbers. Are there any? There has been such a thing as three over the line out of four starters, so great is the eagerness for a lead. [Illustration: Old Style.] [Illustration: New Style.] [Illustration: 'Reverie,' 1891.] [Illustration: 'Corsair,' 1892.] [Illustration: 'Queen Mab,' 1892.] [Illustration: 'Doreen,' 1892.] Among the larger classes everyone looks out for Mr. Jameson being first over line, with O'Neil at the tiller, famed for his special gift for quick starting and weather berths. A good start is a grand beginning. So long as one is leading no explanation is required why the good ship is not showing her best form, or how it is that she is not in her right trim. By this time the fleet is getting sorted; with a good sailing breeze the large craft draw out ahead in many cases, and it is well to do so; the large cutters are started, say, a quarter of an hour ahead, and the forties together. In 1892 the forties were very strongly represented, 'Thalia,' 'Reverie,' 'Queen Mab,' 'Corsair,' 'Creole,' 'Varuna,' 'White Slave.' This gave most interesting sport, far preferable to handicapping, which is only adopted to bring vessels of different tonnage together. A curious instance of this occurred at Cowes, when 'Irex,' 'Genesta,' and 'Lorna' all came in together within five minutes, and having brought up, stowed canvas and dined, it was discovered that 'Sleuthhound' was coming in, almost saving her time allowance of about 53 min. It is certainly most uninteresting to the spectators on shore to see the first fine craft come in close together, and returning from afternoon tea to perhaps discover that the real winner is just sailing in round the flagboat and getting the gun. [Illustration: 'Irex,' midship section.] By this time the 'sun is over the foreyard' and all are settling down for a fine race. Sailing in a race affords excellent opportunity for noticing the other competing craft and admiring the goodly company assembled around. The big cutters are leading, and some of the forties astern. That 'Queen Mab' will hold her own with the best is a point upon which we feel happily confident, her racing flags being proof of her capacity--thirty-six is the number she showed at the end of the season. This yacht, as mentioned elsewhere, was built with a centreboard, but instead of a huge partition in the centre of the saloon, the board came under the main companion, and was quite unnoticeable. As with Mr. Jameson's 'Irex,' 'Mab's' centreboard was discarded, and each became the crack of her respective season. 'Varuna,' also a new boat this year, designed by Mr. G. L. Watson with a Watson bow, as in 'Mab,' was a beautiful craft, really perhaps the designer's favourite. These bows, with those in 'Corsair' and others, elicited sighs and groans from the old school of yachting men; for what with the schooner bow, the Viking bow, the inverted Roman nose bow, the bottle-nose bow, the Fife bow, and the canoe bow, one's idea of what a bow should be became somewhat confused. However, overhang forward carries the day up to 200 tons. 'Corsair,' 40-rater, designed by Mr. Arthur Payne of Southampton, was a grand boat, with less beam than 'Mab,' beautiful counter, long boom, very workmanlike all round. She was built for that enthusiastic yachtsman, Admiral the Hon. Victor Montagu, a dear lover of all good English sports. 'Thalia' was a fine craft, by Fife of Fairlie, a splendid sea boat. Many is the good race Mr. Inglis has sailed in her, with Carter, who sailed 'Britannia,' 1893, at the tiller. [Illustration: 'Irex,' built for John Jameson, Esq., 1884. Length B.P. 88'0"; length L.W.L. 83'6"; beam extreme 15'0". Tonnage R.T.Y.C. Rule 88. tons; tonnage register 74.67 tons; Y.R.A. Rating 98 tons.] [Illustration: Longitudinal elevation.] [Illustration: Cabin plan. Corsair (Admiral the Hon. Victor Montagu), 40-rater, 1892. Designed by Arthur E. Payne.] We live in an age of rather rapid development; 1892 becomes ancient history in 1893, still it seems sad that when one has a good vessel like 'Thalia,' she should so soon be outclassed. Fashion always runs to extremes; now that fashion has attacked yachting, the belle of one season is extinguished in the next. 'Sic tempora et naves mutantur.' In old days enthusiastic yacht-owners lengthened their pets, almost rebuilt them sometimes, as in the cases of 'Alarm' and 'Arrow'; the associations were retained and duly cherished. [Illustration: 'Corsair,' midship section.] We have started, it should have been said, for the Australian Cup, value 50_l._, presented by Mr. Gibson Miller for yachts exceeding 20 tons and not exceeding 40 tons. The second prize, 30_l._, is given by the Royal Squadron. The westerly wind turned out very light, and without a good sailing breeze racing becomes peaceful repose. Much interest, however, is felt in the performance of 'Irene,' 40-rater, designed by Mr. G. L. Watson for Prince Henry of Prussia, who was at the tiller all day, heart and soul in it, longing for a breeze, and probably keeping up the old superstition by giving an unintentional whistle for one; but still it would not come. At 4 hrs. 0 min. 35 secs. 'Queen Mab' came in the winner, 'Thalia' taking second prize. For real racing a true wind, such as we had in the race for prizes given by the Royal Southampton Yacht Club, August 6, is indispensable. This was a small but sporting muster. 'Iverna' and 'Meteor' were sent away at 10.45 A.M., 'Iverna' crossing the line to a second. The forties, 'Corsair,' 'Queen Mab,' and 'Thalia,' were despatched half an hour later at 11 A.M., to a perfect start and a whole-sail westerly breeze, 'Mab' crossing two seconds after the Blue Peter was hauled down. The gun missed fire. We hailed the Committee Boat, 'Are we all right?' when the pleasant echo returned, 'All right, go on,' and away we went. [Illustration: Lashing the Emperor's racing flag.] [Illustration: Our masthead man.] It was a fine reach down Southampton Water, the three close together in single file. Passing Calshot Lightship we hauled our wind and stood over for Cowes, feeling the westerly breeze which came sweeping up from the Needles; below Egypt we went about and took our jumps merrily--a nasty sea, if the sea can be nasty; our working topsail relieved her somewhat--for 'Corsair' and 'Thalia' were carrying jackyarders. It was a grand beat down to Lymington; the rain was heavy, but after a few hard squalls the sun came out and the Lymington mark-boat was rounded, 'Queen Mab' 12 hrs. 45 mins. 10 secs., 'Corsair' 12 hrs. 46 mins. 20 secs., 'Thalia' 12 hrs. 47 mins. 35 secs. As the mark-boat was neared all were astir. 'Get your gear on your spinnaker boom, my lads, and top him as soon as you can. Will you take the time, sir, of "Meteor" and "Iverna" rounding?' Before this our masthead man George had gone aloft by an acrobatic performance which is always interesting to the beholder: on the port tack with the port foot on a hoop, and the starboard foot on the sail, as indicated in the illustration. George was a good compact cheery hand, and must have been born for this particular function. By this time we are round. [Illustration: 'All aft, my sonnies!'] [Illustration: 'Another pull at the mainsheet, my lads!'] [Illustration: Close hauled.] 'Down spinnaker boom,' and now every thread draws and the whole sail is pulling hard. 'All aft, my sonnies!' and the skipper Parker seems to smile upon his pet. At this time bread and cheese and beer are served out, and form a very pleasant pendant to 'all aft' except the look-out, who took his mid-day in solitude by the unfilled foresail. A splendid dead run from the Lymington mark back to Cowes now takes place. See! 'Corsair's' spinnaker is here suddenly taken in, Sycamore, her skipper, having discovered that her mast was sprung, and he therefore went into Cowes. This was a great disappointment to us, and must have been to Admiral Victor Montagu, who so dearly loves racing, especially in a true wind. We were now cracking on for the Warner, our enjoyment only once disturbed by a hail from the look-out, 'Boat right under bow, sir,' and in the same breath, 'Only a photogger, sir,' and on we sped. Rounding the Warner 'Thalia' carried away her throat halliards, but soon continued the race. Rounding mark-boats and lightships is thrilling work, and beautifully it is done on 'Queen Mab.' It is delightful to see the judgment and decision, and how cheerily the hands haul on to the mainsheet; truly this is sport and excitement not easily beaten. 'Queen Mab' bends gracefully to it, and well it suits her; we are hissing through it. It is generally supposed that racing yachts are regularly gralloched and cleared out below; it is so in America and was done to 'Navahoe' in her races; but it is not so here. Everything is in its place, and when the head of the steward appears at the companion with the welcome words, 'Lunch, sir!' we find that all is well--but look out for the swinging table: touch that and there will be a ghastly crash. The 40-rater has the owner's cabin and the lady's cabin, with a very comfortable one for a guest, to say nothing of accommodation for sea bachelors who do not require shore luxury. The ladies' conning tower is generally the top step of the companion, but in the 'Seabelle' Mrs. Taylor had an armchair swung like a gimbal compass, in which she knitted comfortably at whatever angle the yacht might be in a seaway. After lunch we are close-hauled lying for Calshot Castle, hissing through it with a pleasant swish of spray, ever and anon making some of the hands duck their heads as they lie up to windward. Many is the dry remark and cheery yarn that one hears under these circumstances; not many words but much to the purpose, old recollections are revived, and there is always something to be learnt. [Illustration: Real business.] Each hand is on the look-out in calm weather, scouring the horizon for a wandering catspaw, or in bad weather, watching the other craft to see how they take it. To note the skipper's face is a study; his eye on every leach and every sheet, keen and ready for any emergency, entirely absorbed in 'her' and how she is going and how he can best cosset her. Such was the impression left of Ben Parker at the tiller of 'Queen Mab.' He had done good work in Mr. Hill's 'Dragons' of the 20's. His first command was the 'Ulidia,' Fife's 10-tonner, after having sailed for some years under Tom Diaper and O'Neil, and his Channel race from Dover in 1892 will never be forgotten. It was a merry close haul back from the Warner to Southampton Water. As the wind was drawing down the river we had a beat up to the Committee-boat, which was reached, 'Queen Mab' 4 hrs. 9 mins. 57 secs., winner, 40_l._ and silver medal; 'Thalia,' 4 hrs. 58 mins., second prize 10_l._ 'Thalia,' built by Fife of Fairlie, had a rare good crew, and Mr. I. A. Inglis has sailed many a famous race in her with his skipper, Carter, whose season of 1893 in H.R.H. the Prince of Wales's 'Britannia' speaks for itself. We get the 'gun,' that great joy at the end of a good race. 'Down foresail,' and round she comes. The cheering is over, so now to clear up. Unlash the dinghy, get back the cutter and gear, and fill in the Declaration, which has to be sent in by every owner or his representative immediately after a race is won. It runs thus: _Y.R.A. Declaration that Rules have been observed_ I hereby declare that . . . . . . . . yacht whilst sailing in the . . . . . . . Race this day has strictly observed the sailing Rules and Regulations. Date . . . . . . Signed . . . . . . . The gig is by this time alongside, and it must have been delightful to the owner as he stepped into her and left the side of the victorious 'Queen Mab,' to look up and see five winning flags flying, representing five first prizes in five starts in one week. It is not the purpose of this chapter to record all 'Queen Mab's' victories, but it may be noted that she won the 40_l._ prize given by the Royal Dorset Yacht Club in August of this year--1892. The club was founded in 1875, and holds forth many inducements to yacht-owners to visit Weymouth. For small raters it is admirably adapted, as the Esplanade is of immense length, and the short courses can be seen from one end to the other. [Illustration: Torquay.] At Dartmouth also 'Queen Mab' had two fine races, in a hard wind round the Skerries. The first, August 26, was very good, but the second, August 27, was better, though only one round, at the end of which we found the flagboat bottom up. 'Queen Mab' won first prize on both days. At Plymouth, in the following week, continuing the 'Westward Ho' procession, 'Mab' sailed over, with double-reef mainsail No. 3 and jib, no foresail, 'Thalia' and 'Corsair' not caring to start. Outside the Breakwater it was very grand, and outside Rame Head grander still, as the rollers came in after a 48 hours' gale. The pilot admired 'Mab' immensely, she made such good weather of it. The gale was great sport for us, and it was surprising to see how the small boats thrashed through it. 'Dis' carried away her bowsprit, and there was much harmless wreckage of gear. One lesson might be learnt, that with the short bowsprit produced by the overhang forward there is much strain taken off that very important spar. Plymouth often gets a hard blow about this time, which is the more to be regretted from the extraordinary variety of boats and classes, from the 'Britannia' class down to the rowing matches of the bum-boat women. Devonport and the Navy training brigs and colleges all join the water frolic, and great is the disappointment when the weather is unfavourable. [Illustration: 'Queen Mab' _40-rater_ (_T. B. C. West, Esq._) _Designed by G. L. Watson_, 1892.] [Illustration: Channel Racing Westward.] [Illustration: A close finish, 'Queen Mab' and 'Corsair,' R.T.Y.C., May, 1892.] CHAPTER XI YACHT RACING IN 1893 BY H. HORN An exceptional year, alike in regard to weather and sport, for not within living memory has there been so fine a spring, summer and autumn, and there is no previous record of such a sequence of eventful and stirring racing. It is highly gratifying that sport so truly national in character as yacht racing enlisted more general interest during the past season than has ever previously been the case; in fact, it can further be said that the doings of the 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,' 'Calluna,' 'Navahoe,' and 'Iverna' arrested world-wide attention. Lord Dunraven's commission, given in the fall of 1892, for a new 'Valkyrie' of about double the rating of his first cutter of that name, heralded a revival of big-cutter racing, and later on yachting enthusiasts were almost delirious with joy when authentic announcements were made that the Prince of Wales had given orders for a sister ship to the 'Valkyrie,' and that a big cutter was to be built at Southampton for Mr. A. D. Clarke, and one on the Clyde for a syndicate of Scotch yachtsmen. Mr. G. L. Watson had a free hand in designing the 'Valkyrie' and 'Britannia,' which were built side by side at Partick by Messrs. Henderson, and parenthetically it may be said they fitted out, moored together, and kept singularly close company in all their matches. The 'Satanita,' which was designed by Mr. J. Soper to sail on a 94-feet water-line, was built by Fay & Co., while Mr. W. Fife, junr. was responsible for the 'Calluna's' model, and the vessel was built by Messrs. J. & A. Inglis of Pointhouse, Glasgow, in an incredibly short space of time. Although very certain that the 'Iverna' would be quite outbuilt by the new ships, Mr. John Jameson determined to bring her out, and 'Iverna's' well-tried antagonist, the 'Meteor,' was under orders to join the fleet later on. Just before the advent of the new year, Lord Dunraven's challenge for the new 'Valkyrie' to sail a series of races for the America Cup was accepted by the New York Yacht Club, and about the same time came a notification from Mr. Carroll, a prominent American yachtsman, that he was having a sloop (the 'Navahoe') built by Messrs. Herreshoff, with which he intended to challenge for the Royal Victoria Gold Cup, and also make an attempt to win back the Cape May and Brenton Reef Cups. The year was thus launched auspiciously enough in respect to big ship racing, and prospects were reassuring in regard to sport in all the other classes except the tens. There was a fining down however in number of the 40-rating division compared to 1892, and regrets were general that the sale of the 'Queen Mab' had led to her expatriation. But Admiral Montagu was replacing the absentee 'Corsair' with the 'Vendetta,' a fin-bulb and balance-rudder craft, with a beam of about 17 feet, and Mr. John Gretton, jun., who did not get much fun out of the 10-rater 'Doreen,' had determined on having a 40 from a Fife design, the outcome being the 'Lais.' 'Varuna' was being fitted out again by Capt. Towers-Clark, and the 'Thalia,' which had passed into the possession of Judge Boyd, was to be raced, but not to go all round the coast. The second class was thus virtually made up of 'Vendetta,' 'Varuna,' and 'Lais,' which verily proved a militant trio, and their owners had plenty of racing, and no end of exciting and eventful sport. With the new 'Dragon'--the third of that name Fife's had built for Mr. F. C. Hill--Lord Dunraven's 'Deirdré,' by 'Valkyrie's' designer, and the 'Vigorna,' by Nicholson--which Lord Dudley intended to take the place of the 5-rater 'Dacia'--there was promise of keen competition for the 20-rating prizes; but it was not in the best interests of sport that a joint arrangement was made that this class would not be raced outside the Isle of Wight--at least from the beginning of the season, until the Western meetings came on in the fall. The 'Zinita,' a new 20 by Fife, had things pretty much her own way on the Clyde, and it was a pity that she did not meet the new boats which starred in Southern waters. 'Idalia'--the first 'Dragon'--was the 'Zinita's' most formidable opponent on the Clyde, and the 'Molly'--'Dragon' the second--after a good spell of Solent racing, went North, but found the 'Zinita' as bad to beat as she did the 'Dragon' and the 'Deirdré.' There were no new boats in the 10-rating class, and racing in this division was confined to the Clyde, where the 'Dora,' 'Ptarmigan,' 'Maida,' 'Phantom' and 'Woodcock' had some good sport. The 6-raters, which were a feature in the Clyde and Irish regatta programmes in 1892, had gone out of fashion, and 23-feet 'lengthers' were the reigning favourites with small shipmen on the Clyde, Mr. Robt. Wylie's 'Vida,' a Watson design, being the crack in a fleet of eight. The Solent 5-rating class could not boast of a new boat, and the 'Dacia,' although she headed the list of prize-winners in the South, did not sail up to her 1892 form. The 'Red Lancer,' which went all round the coast, was the pride of the season of the fives, and she was equal to taking down 'Dacia' pretty easily. The 'Fleur-de-Lis' and 'Quinque' also frequently lowered 'Dacia's' colours, and honours were about easy with the trio at the end of the season. In the 2-1/2-rating class the 'Meneen,' a Herreshoff boat, had a better average than the over-year Nicholson boat, 'Gareth,' and in the 1-rating class the 'Morwena'--another Herreshoff--was the principal winner. It cannot be said that the branch of the sport known as handicap sailing flourished during the season, though there were some keen and interesting battles with the ex-racers. The most successful vessels in this division were the 'Creole,' 'Castanet,' 'Columbine,' 'Mabel' and 'Samoena.' The big-cutter contests were of such exceptional interest that a review of the season would not be complete without a history of all the races sailed, and the opportunity is embraced of embodying many unreported incidents in the subjoined _résumé_ of the first-class racing. [Illustration: 'Samoena' _94 tons._ _Built for John Jameson, Esq., by Inman_, 1880.] There was a thoroughly representative assemblage of yachtsmen afloat the first day the big cutters had racing flags lashed up, and it may be said that never during the half-century the Royal Thames has been an institution has a more critical company, collectively, been present at a river match of the premier metropolitan club. A white haze was hanging about the lower Thames on the morning of Thursday, May 25, and when the 'Valkyrie,' 'Britannia,' 'Calluna' and 'Iverna' were ready to answer the starting gun, a breeze from the west-north-west of balloon topsail strength was blowing. The quartet began the race at 12.5, and went reaching down the Lower Hope, with flowing sheets and carrying a swirl of ebb-tide with them. 'Valkyrie' had made a clever start, and keeping to the Essex side was first to square away in Sea Reach, and get spinnaker set to port. 'Britannia' had been edged off to the heart of the fairway, but about Thames Haven she was drawn in across 'Valkyrie's' wake, and straightened on a down-river course directly she had angled the latter's wind. 'Valkyrie's' first racing burst was satisfactory, inasmuch as she kept pride of place for about 14 miles, albeit she never held more than a clear length's lead of 'Britannia.' About a couple of miles below Southend the wind had a hank off the sands, and, with square canvas gathered and sheets trimmed in a little, 'Britannia' raced up broad on the weather beam of 'Valkyrie,' while wide away 'Calluna' was booming along with a rally of wind aft, and for a few minutes certainly led the fleet. On an easy reach 'Britannia' gave evidence that she had the foot of the sister ship, yet it was a marvellously close race, the Prince of Wales's cutter drawing by the wind round the Mouse at 2.10 with about three lengths lead of 'Valkyrie,' while the 'Calluna' was only 1 min. 11 secs. and 'Iverna' 2 mins. 5 secs. astern of the leader. With a beat back over a lee tide in perspective the lead round the lightship was an immense advantage, and, in order to keep weather gauge, 'Britannia' was kept shooting so long that 'Valkyrie' had no chance of a successful hug, and it would have been suicidal for her to have turned about in the body of the tide. The alternative was sailing hard to get the wind clear to leeward; but when 'Valkyrie' came round outside the edge of the tide rift, 'Britannia,' drawing a foot less water, was able to cast about dead in the wind's eye of her rival. A grand breeze squeezing trial went on right up Sea Reach, 'Valkyrie,' although the quicker of the pair in stays, getting now and again a staggering weather bower. It was a racing treat, however, and, despite the duel, the 'Calluna' and 'Iverna' were getting a hollow beating. The breeze freshened with the flood, and from off Shellhaven 'Britannia,' which was a bare hundred yards to windward of 'Valkyrie,' was, on starboard, pointing clear of the Blyth, and did not therefore follow her rival on an inshore cast. After passing the Lower Hope point, sheets were checked, jib topsails and balloon staysails were set, and, with a puffy breeze broad off the Essex side, they went straight up the fairway pushing on a big bow wave. 'Britannia' going thus free was dropping 'Valkyrie' a trifle, yet the race looked open until 'Valkyrie's' bowsprit snapped short off close to the stem head. She was eased in to the weather shore, and her topmast saved in a wonderful way, and eventually she followed 'Britannia' home. 'Calluna' had split her big jib across the diagonal seam in Sea Reach, but got another set, and looked likely--consequent on 'Valkyrie's' mishap--to gain second honours. An attempt, however, to pass inside the Ovens ended by 'Calluna' sticking deep in the mud, and 'Iverna' got home soon enough to save her time on 'Valkyrie.' This, the first race, was a fair trial to leeward and to windward, and it showed 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie' to be wonderfully evenly matched, while 'Calluna's' _début_ was disappointing. [Illustration: 'Iverna,' 1890. (John Jameson, Esq.)] [Illustration: Lines and midship section of 'Iverna.' Dimensions, &c.: Length (on L.W.L.), 83.50 ft.; beam, extreme, 19 ft.; depth, 10.70 ft.; tonnage, registered, 84.40 tons; tonnage, y. m. 152 tons; Y.R.A. rating, 118 tons. Designed by Alexander Richardson for John Jameson, Esq.] The valedictory match on the river on May 27 proved the best racing test, and furnished the most stirring sport of the trio. 'Valkyrie' was ready to join in, and the fleet was similarly constituted to the opening day. The race was under the Royal London burgee, and was sailed in gloomy weather and a smart north-east breeze. A sensation was served up before the contest proper had been started, and directly after the heavily freighted official steamer had got down to the Lower Hope, through 'Calluna's' mast breaking off short as a Jersey cabbage-stalk. With her whole canvas pile carrying away over the side it was feared some of the crew might be entangled; but luckily everything went clear and no one was hurt. It was 12.45 before the Commodore started the race, and at the time the Hope was full of trading craft. A bulky hopper barred 'Britannia's' way, and both 'Valkyrie' and 'Iverna' had to be shoved up in the wind; and while the two last named were hovering, 'Britannia' stood away for the Kent side into the full scour of the ebb, and came off on the starboard tack in weather berth. 'Valkyrie' had to short tack at the top of Sea Reach to clear her wind, and as a long leg could be made, 'Britannia' reached away with the lead, 'Valkyrie,' half a dozen lengths astern, pointing high for her weather quarter. The wind was puffy and both dropped 'Iverna,' but the two leaders were sailing a grand race, and made a long stretch as far as the East River Middle without breaking port tack. Hereabout, however, the wind suddenly shortened on them from the eastward, and the 'Valkyrie' most unluckily was thrown dead under the lee of 'Britannia.' With the tide soaking them bodily to windward, they both fetched under the Nore Sand, which had to be stood from for water, and by short turnings they then made a fine race to the Nore Lightship. Here they got in deep water, and after a short hitch and a rap-full stretch to clear had failed, 'Valkyrie' went in for short boards of about twenty seconds, and ended by being given lee helm directly she was full. This meant that 'Britannia,' being slower in stays, had not got sheets in before she wanted to go about again, and she would to a certainty have been weathered by 'Valkyrie,' before getting as far on as the West Oaze, had not the Prince of Wales's cutter been treated to longer boards. 'Britannia' then got away and weathered the Mouse, after as fine a display of short tacking as has ever been seen on the river, with a lead of 39 seconds, and the duel had let 'Iverna' get within 10 minutes of the leader. They ran back against the tide with spinnakers to port; but it was dead running, and 'Valkyrie,' edging in to the Maplins, got through into first place above the Admiralty mile. The wind then came off shore, and 'Britannia' at once began to luff in. 'Valkyrie' was determined to keep her weather wind clear, the pair had a match up to Southend, and on keeping away both touched the ground, the 'Britannia' bumping three times hard on the north head of Leigh Sand. The Prince of Wales's cutter, however, keeping wide, slipped past 'Valkyrie' about the Chapman, drew to, and came fair ahead. The pair kept up a grand race on the Essex side of the river, but 'Iverna,' greatly favoured by the wind and her opponents' jockeying, had got within a couple of minutes of the leaders when off Holehaven. Spinnakers were carried through the Hope, and a grand race finished with a free reach from Coalhouse Point home, 'Britannia' beating 'Valkyrie' by 73 seconds; but 'Iverna' won the prize by time. [Illustration: Thames, Harwich, and Cinque Ports Courses.] A very fine open-water match was that of the Royal Thames Club on June 10 from the Nore round the back of the Goodwins to Dover. The usual tale of five of the national rig and the schooner 'Amphitrite' made up the entry, and all mustered at the rendezvous. It was a cheerless morning, the sky being heavy and of slaty hue, whilst a brisk north-easter blew cold off the water. The schooner had a yard-topsail set, 'Calluna' her No. 2 jackyarder, and the 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,' and 'Iverna' their jibheaders. Reef-tackles were ready to pull earings down, but the breeze veered to the east north-east and did not harden. They had a beat to the Tongue with a swinging weather tide, 'Britannia' made a capital start, and twice crossed ahead of 'Valkyrie'; but exactly half an hour after the start, off the 'West Oaze,' 'Britannia' found her sister marching clear ahead. 'Calluna' had been in Tilbury Dock since her inglorious performance at Harwich; she was there lightened of tons of dead weight, and the syndicate ship was very much livelier, and infinitely more able at breeze squeezing; while the turnings were too short for 'Satanita' to be cutting a dash. 'Britannia' jumped up on 'Valkyrie' every time the long leg on port came, and at the entrance of the Alexandra Channel 'Valkyrie,' on the bearing tack, had to come about under the lee bow, the Prince of Wales's cutter thus becoming 'bell wether.' 'Valkyrie' stayed for 'Britannia,' which was however on port, but the former was clear enough ahead before getting abreast of the beacons on the Girdler. The two leading boats worked shorter tacks than the rest down the Alexandra to the southern pitch of the Shingles, and they were consequently getting picked up a little by 'Calluna' and 'Satanita.' After a long leg on port, the last tack was made for weathering distance of the Tongue Lightship, and on passing this mark after a beat of 19 miles with a weather tide, the 'Valkyrie' led 'Britannia' 2 mins., 'Calluna' 7 mins. 30 secs., 'Satanita' 9 mins. 30 secs., and 'Iverna' 15 mins. 30 secs. It may be said that the distance was covered by the leader in 2 hrs. 18 mins. After allowing for a sweep of fair tide they had a broad reach off to the North Sandhead, and although 'Britannia' raced up on 'Valkyrie,' she stopped directly she began to yaw about on the leader's quarter sea, and was half a minute astern at the North Goodwin Lightship. 'Satanita's' was a remarkable piece of sailing, as according to the 'distance table' it is 14-3/4 miles from the Tongue Lightship to the North Sandhead, and she was timed officially as taking just over one hour to do the distance; it should be added that the tide was running about two knots, and setting under the weather quarter, whilst it is worthy of note that between the marks 'Satanita' had two luffs with 'Calluna' and shifted her jibheaded topsail for a jackyarder. In a run to the East Goodwin main booms were carried to starboard, and 'Britannia,' running the nearer to the sands, was placed to cover 'Valkyrie,' when an inevitable gybe came off at the East Goodwin. 'Valkyrie' came over all standing just after passing the lightship, and unluckily for her the parts of the mainsheet got under the counter. 'Britannia' was also gybed in a hurry, and, covering her opponent, she slipped past into pride of place, while 'Valkyrie' was unable to pull her boom in and luff; oddly enough, however, 'Britannia' was in the same mess as her sister, and it was some time ere both had mainsheets running free through the blocks. With the North Sea tide swinging along hot, a fine head of speed was kept up, and about the Calliper head-sails were taking well and spinnakers were got in. Although the wind was quarterly from the Southsand Lightship home, 'Britannia' made but a very trifling gain on 'Valkyrie,' and, according to official clocking, crossed the line with a lead of 17 secs., and, having 13 secs. to allow, thus won with 3 secs. to spare--a remarkable finish of a grand race. 'Satanita' was 5 mins. 52 secs. astern of the leader, 'Calluna' 7 mins. 26 secs., and 'Iverna' 18 mins. 32 secs. A smart easterly wind on the morning of the cross Channel match from Dover to Boulogne very naturally gave rise to anticipations that the time record for the course would be broken. The breeze came unsteady, however, and put a veto on the accomplishment of a fast journey either way, whilst a serious collision at the start, in which the 'Valkyrie,' 'Britannia,' and 'Vendetta' were involved, had the effect of utterly spoiling the race. A fleet of eight responded to the starting gun--namely, 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Calluna,' 'Iverna,' 'Mabel,' 'Lais,' 'Vendetta,' and 'Varuna'--and they ran in close flight for the line before a north-east wind, with booms to starboard and having a gybe to make immediately after crossing. 'Vendetta' got away first and was reaching off on her course when 'Valkyrie's' bowsprit end took the 40 on the port quarter and forced her round until she filled on the starboard tack, her topmast being carried away as she was slewing. There was not much room between the outer flagboat and the port side of 'Valkyrie,' but 'Britannia's' helm was drawn down--after gybing--to give her a chance of finding a passage. She fouled the mark, however, and through 'Valkyrie's' way being deadened when she fouled 'Vendetta,' 'Britannia' had the alternative of steadying her helm and giving 'Valkyrie' a sliding blow, or of keeping it a little a-lee and crashing right through the 40. The 'Britannia's' helm was eased, and she put her bowsprit inside 'Valkyrie's' rigging, while 'Vendetta,' after getting her bowsprit broken off by 'Britannia,' got some of the gear foul and dropped alongside the Prince of Wales's vessel, with her counter up about level with the big cutter's main rigging, and the stem even with the taffrail. The three vessels, locked together, sidled away towards shore, 'Britannia,' listing to the wind, pressed her mainsail on to 'Vendetta's' port crosstree, and the sail split up from boom to gaff. The trio laid thus entangled for ten minutes, but meantime 'Valkyrie's' crew had chopped away at 'Britannia's' bowsprit and headgear; eventually the spar broke, and then the three vessels at once got clear. Meanwhile 'Calluna' and 'Iverna' had been racing away for the French coast with a fine leading wind, and twelve minutes after they had crossed the line 'Valkyrie' started in pursuit. The wind was shy and very puffy after getting inside Grisnez, and 'Valkyrie' picked up six minutes on 'Calluna,' which had beaten 'Iverna' only 3 mins. 45 secs. in going across, and 'Varuna,' the leading 40, by 24 mins. 'Calluna' hung on to her jackyard topsail in a wonderful way, as some of the puffs laid her over until the lee decks were full. 'Valkyrie' passed 'Iverna,' but 'Calluna' well kept her lead, the wind easting enough for all to fetch clean full home. 'Calluna' beat 'Valkyrie' by 5 mins. 27 secs., 'Iverna' by 8 mins. 52 secs., and 'Lais,' the first of the 40's, by 46 mins. 6 secs. [Illustration: 'Calluna,' 141-rater (Peter Donaldson, Esq.)] There was a full muster of the heavy-weight cutters at the Royal Southern rendezvous, the club having a first-class match on June 17, the second day of its 'Jubilee' Regatta. 'Satanita's' light blue banner was carried nearer the water-level than in her previous racing essays, owing to the lower mast having been clipped 3 feet, and additional lead had been put on her keel. 'Britannia' had made good the damage sustained at Dover, and with 'Valkyrie,' 'Calluna,' and 'Iverna' the fleet was brought up to normal strength. It was a lovely morning, glorified by fervent sunshine, and softened by a gauzy haze, but a southerly chill was not strong enough to 'carry' the smoke of the starting gun, and the surface of the Solent looked smooth as burnished steel. With flying airs filling jackyard topsails, they started the race, and ere going half a mile 'Calluna' got aground on the Calshot Spit. 'Valkyrie' was lucky to strike the first of a gathering breeze, and went reaching fast from the fleet down the West Channel. She afterwards gave a fine display by the wind, and showed matchless form on a dead run. 'Valkyrie' eventually beat 'Britannia' by 5 mins. 32 secs., and 'Satanita' by 16 mins. 4 secs., 'Calluna' and 'Iverna' both being miles astern. 'Valkyrie's' was a good performance, but she was distinctly lucky in getting the first of the wind, and she likewise was kindly treated subsequently by Dame Fortune. Rather singularly the Jubilee Regatta of the Royal Southern Club was followed by the Jubilee of the Royal Mersey; but the latter meeting, on June 24, did not open under such exhilarating influences as the Solent gathering, particulars having just come to hand of the 'Victoria' disaster in the Mediterranean, while the weather was dismally dull, and a tearing north-north-west wind blowing. Consequent on the prevailing stiff breeze an alternative course--three times round the Formby--had been plotted off overnight--probably not, however, from any tender consideration whether the racing vessels could cross the bar safely, the anxiety more likely being in regard to the Committee-boat and her freight. The inside course was named on the day, but, in spite of foresight and precaution, the racing was disappointing. The 'Valkyrie,' which had come round from Cowes with her mainsail an underdeck passenger, could not get the sail bent owing to the rain and wind; then 'Calluna' got her anchor foul, and being 25 minutes late, did not start. 'Britannia' alone was near the line when the Blue Peter came down, yet she lost 1 min. 50 secs., while 'Satanita' came 2 mins. later, and 'Iverna' a minute after 'Satanita.' There was wind enough to warrant second earings being hardened down, all topmasts were housed, and with the tide flying to windward the ground was sidled over very fast. The start meant victory--barring accidents--in beating out of the narrow Mersey channel, and although 'Satanita' worked right up under 'Britannia,' she was kept safely pinned. There was a short jump of sea, and the two new ships were giving a free display of the fore body, smashing the tidal combers into blinding clouds of sea dust. 'Satanita' had a rare drilling from 'Britannia,' and although she also ran the faster, she could not get through in such a limited stretch of water. Thus the game was played to the end, it being a flog out from New Brighton to the Formby, and a run back each round. Had the 'Satanita' got her opponent's start, she would probably have beaten the Prince of Wales's cutter fully 5 mins., as in such a breeze she was clearly the faster to windward. 'Iverna' was very soon done with, and at the finish 'Britannia' finished 2 mins. 19 secs. before 'Satanita.' The Royal Northern Regatta opened on July 1 with a piping breeze strong enough for slab reefs to be pulled down; before noon, however, jackyard topsails were wanted, and calms and partial breezes made tiresome work afterward, flukes being as plentiful as motes in a sunbeam. The 'Calluna' put in an appearance, and when viewed broadside on her big sail-plan gave her quite an over-hatted look. 'Satanita,' 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' and 'Iverna' all made their number, and the match commenced in a rush of wind, 'Satanita' clearing out of Rothesay Bay faster than any steamboat ever left it--perhaps a madder burst of reaching was never seen. The Southampton boat was at the head of affairs for some time, but after some fluking 'Valkyrie' led. At the end of the second round, however, 'Satanita,' through a sheer slice of luck, got 3 mins. ahead of 'Britannia,' and as it was then 4.30 and clock calm in the Clyde, it was thought the match would be stopped. The Committee, however, wanted the distance done, and 'Britannia,' being the faster in light airs, got home late in the evening 1 min. 49 secs, before 'Satanita,' 'Valkyrie,' which was nearly 20 mins. astern of the latter at the end of the first round, getting in 1 min. 32 secs, after, and saving her time for second prize. The 'Calluna's' wide wings did not seem to help her as they should have done in flaws and catspaws. The Mudhookers opened the ball on July 5 at Hunter's Quay, and a very capital sailing programme was put forward by the exclusive 'forty' which constitute the club, the leading event being a prize value 100_l._ for big cutters. With 'Britannia' and 'Calluna' disabled, the affair virtually resolved itself into a match between 'Valkyrie' and 'Satanita,' although the 'Iverna' was a starter. It was imperative that the helmsmen should be amateurs, and Mr. W. G. Jameson shipped for the day as timoneer of 'Satanita,' Lord Dunraven having Mr. George Watson to relieve him on 'Valkyrie.' Starting with a free sheet in a smart breeze, 'Satanita' went away so fast that 'Valkyrie' looked likely to have a stern chase; but the wind got baffling, in beating up the Firth from Ascog 'Valkyrie' worked up, and off Dunoon, in standing off on port, she had to come round under the lee bow of her rival. A wind-jamming trial then followed, and 'Satanita' either sidled away and dropped down on 'Valkyrie,' or the latter ate up under her rival, as the end of 'Satanita's' gaff hooked 'Valkyrie's' topmast shrouds, and Lord Dunraven's cutter was towed along for some minutes. After getting clear, it was thought 'Valkyrie's' topmast was slightly sprung, and there were cross protests at the finish of the round. A desperately close race was sailed on the second turn round the course, and 'Satanita,' which was only 27 secs. ahead at the finish, got beaten on time by 'Valkyrie.' 'Iverna' finished 26 secs. after the leader. Amateur helmsmen were in request for the big ships on Clyde Corinthian Club day, when the 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,' and 'Iverna' responded to the starting gun. The weather was very uncertain, the breezes being so light that only one round of the course could be sailed. 'Valkyrie' was the lucky ship as she rounded the Kilcreggan flagboat, two and a half miles from the Commodore, last boat. Standing off in the Firth, along the edge of a flaw, whilst her opponents were lying becalmed, she tacked into a breezy lane, and, passing 'Iverna,' 'Satanita,' and 'Britannia' in turn, carried her way up to the line, getting the winning gun 30 secs. before 'Britannia' struggled through, and 2 mins. 15 secs. in advance of 'Satanita.' The 'Valkyrie' was steered by her owner, the 'Britannia' by Mr. W. G. Jameson, and the 'Satanita' by Mr. R. Ure. A more unfavourable racing day than that which opened the Royal Club Regatta has never been experienced even on the unutterably fluky Firth. Sudden spurts of wind, calms, a very long spell of what was quite a deluge of rain, deafening thunder, blinding lightning and depressing gloom, made up the sample of weather vouchsafed to the competitors during the time that the 'sport' was progressing. The big cutters mustered in full force, and had a light easterly breeze, which gave a reach down the Clyde. Just before the start, 'Britannia' on the port tack, with the wind pretty broad abeam, made 'Calluna,' which had run down from the eastward with boom over the port side, come round; and this was deemed cause for 'Calluna' to pursue a protest, on the ground that a breach of the rules of the road had been committed. 'Valkyrie,' too, made a mark of 'Britannia,' the latter getting the stem, and sustaining damage to the port bulwarks aft and the taffrail. After an unsatisfactory start, 'Britannia' and 'Satanita' went round the Ascog mark together, but just as the latter was stepping out in style, and apparently in first place, her bobstay pendant burst and the bowsprit broke off short to the stem-head. Topsails had been shifted, as there was a prospect of a strong breeze, but the outcome was a tempest without a rattle of wind. 'Britannia' sailed in fine form, and simply lost her opponents directly 'Satanita's' accident had put that boat out of the way. It was a wretchedly poor time, however, and, thanks to not a little good fortune, 'Britannia' beat 'Valkyrie' by 41 mins. 40 secs., and 'Calluna' by 62 mins. 17 secs., while 'Iverna' gave up. Protests were lodged against 'Britannia' on behalf of both 'Calluna' and 'Valkyrie.' The 'Calluna's' objection was considered, and about midnight the Sailing Committee decided to disqualify the 'Britannia,' only one witness, be it said, from the last-named vessel having been called. There was really not a semblance of racing on the second day of the Royal Clyde Regatta, which was the valedictory fixture in the so-called 'Clyde fortnight.' Flying chills and draughts out of every 'airt,' with long spells of calm, kept the vessels hanging about the lower part of the Firth until the shadows were well slanting eastward. An evening breeze helped 'Valkyrie' home, but it took her nearly seven hours and a half to cover one half the course, and she finished 54 mins. 9 secs. before the 'Calluna,' 1 hr. 31 mins. 30 secs. before 'Britannia,' and about 2 hrs. 40 mins. before 'Satanita,' the last named taking 10 hrs. to cover 25 miles. Inspiriting racing marked the opening of the Irish fixtures at Bangor, and the Royal Ulster Regatta attracted all the big cutters. The wind was fresh from the north-north-east, slab reefs were down in mainsails and sharp-headed topsails set. A thrilling and eventful contest followed a perfectly judged start, and 'Britannia,' 'Satanita,' and 'Valkyrie' formed first flight in a plain sail round the Lough as far as the South Briggs flagboat, where the last named lost her place through one of her hands getting knocked overboard in a gybe. At the same mark in the second round 'Britannia' got the inside turn, when the main boom had to come over; but 'Satanita' at once began to luff, and with mainsheet blocks together on both they went heading out in the Lough. Foot by foot 'Satanita' came up, off Ballyholme Bay she had ranged broad on the weather-beam of her rival, and was thus able to claim room at the home flagboat, which she luffed round with 5 secs. lead, and Jay then kept her shooting almost as long as she would to keep weather berth. 'Britannia' unluckily got her mainsheet jammed, and as she could not in consequence be sprung to the wind--at once--so high as 'Satanita,' she dropped under the lee quarter, and got a severe blanketing all the way up the Lough. The pair sailed an exciting match round the rest of the course, and 'Satanita' travelling like a shooting star reached home winner with 5 secs. in hand. It may be said that the feat was accomplished in one third of the course, 16-1/2 miles, and that she beat 'Britannia' 2 mins. 29 secs. in that distance, which was a very high tribute indeed to 'Satanita's' speed. 'Calluna' finished 7 mins. 19 secs. after the winner. 'Valkyrie' never regained any of the time lost in picking up the hand who got overboard. [Illustration: Royal Ulster Yacht Club Belfast.] The breeze steadied down during the dark hours, and the 'Valkyrie' had a day just to her liking. 'Iverna's' well-known racing banner was missed for the first time in the season, owing to her rudder-head being twisted. Spectators were treated to a magnificent light-weather match between the 'Valkyrie' and 'Britannia.' The former took the lead directly after the flash of the starting gun, but she did not seem to ghost along in the usual peerless style. 'Britannia' was with difficulty kept pinned under the lee; in fact, it was evident that 'Valkyrie' could not allow her opponent a cross-tacking chance, or her quarry would certainly have slipped her. The breezes were paltry and patchy, with plenty of white water spots about, and the course was shortened to the extent of one third the distance, 'Valkyrie' eventually crawling home winner about three lengths ahead of 'Britannia,' although there was 1 min. 56 secs. difference between them in time. 'Calluna's' big sail-plan availed her little, and 'Satanita' never once really woke up in the prevailing zephyrs. 'Calluna' finished 16 mins. 53 secs. astern of 'Valkyrie,' and 'Satanita' struggled in against the tide 8 mins. 6 secs. after 'Calluna.' There was a piping breeze from the westward on the opening day of the Royal Irish Regatta, and a stirring struggle with 'Satanita,' 'Britannia,' and 'Calluna' for Her Majesty's Cup was accordingly anticipated. 'Calluna' risked a whole mainsail, but 'Britannia' and 'Satanita' had the baby reef in and all set jibheaded topsails. Perfect judgment was shown on the 'Satanita' and 'Britannia' in manoeuvring for the start, but 'Satanita's' skipper scored first honours as he gave his ship a wipe away at the nick of time, and she reached through the line, fairly foaming a length ahead of the Prince of Wales's cutter, 'Calluna' being about a hundred yards astern. They went along the wind at a tearing pace to the Muglins Mark, jib-topsails being cracked on, and on going to the Kish the wind was brought on the quarter, a nasty roll tried spars and gear, and an ugly gybe came on before making the Lightship. At this mark 'Satanita' had given a startling illustration of her speed with a free sheet, as she led the 'Britannia' 2 mins. 5 secs., with 'Calluna' only 19 secs. astern of the latter. A very fast piece of close reaching was done between the Kish and the Rosebeg, then came a dead peg across the Bay. 'Britannia' tried hard to get 'Satanita' into short tacking, and the latter, having to turn about more often than suited her, found 'Britannia' settling up, enabling 'Calluna' to profit by the game her opponents were playing. In a hard squall the second round commenced, and through a backing of the wind they had a run with spinnakers to the Kish. A gybe had to be made, and it was a heavy one. 'Satanita' and 'Britannia' got their booms over all right, but 'Calluna's' came in a hurry, and while the boom-end was buried deep in the water, the inner part came with a surge against the runner and broke off, the outer half of the spar launching in board and lying square across the deck. Luckily no one was hurt, which was simply a miracle. The 'Satanita' and 'Britannia' sailed a desperate race during the rest of the round, and this time the former had the better of her rival beating across the bay. In going free to the Kish on the last turn, 'Satanita' sailed in peerless form, and had a lead of 4 mins. 44 secs. at the Lightship. In a close reach to the Rosebeg, 'Satanita' lost a few seconds, and then followed a splendid race tack and tack home. 'Britannia' was the better on this point, but 'Satanita' kept her under the lee and weathered the line with a lead of 2 mins. 47 secs., winning the Royal trophy and scoring a brilliant victory with 69 secs. to spare. The Royal Irish Regatta finished on Thursday, July 20, in changeable weather and baffling breezes. With 'Calluna' crippled, the 'Satanita' and 'Britannia' had a match for the club prize, and not at all unexpectedly 'Britannia' was winner. She scored by no means a bloodless victory, and her crew had a scare when 'Satanita' struck into a breeze about half water between the Muglins and Kish, and went streaking past like a flash of greased lightning. 'Satanita' was pluckily sailed, but had not wind enough to wake her up and, when the match was stopped at the end of the second round, 'Britannia' had a lead of 4 mins. 4 secs. [Illustration: Royal Irish Yacht Club. Dublin Bay.] [Illustration: 'Navahoe,' 161-rater: N.Y.Y. Club (Royal Phelps Carroll, Esq.)] Most auspicious was the opening of the Cowes racing week in regard to wind and weather, there being every indication of the morning breeze of Monday freshening when the stream bent westward, and of lasting sunshine and a clear atmosphere. The match was under the Royal London burgee, and the club had adopted a new course of which it may be said that a better could not have been marked off inside the Isle of Wight. The big cutter entry included the 'Valkyrie,' 'Britannia,' 'Satanita,' 'Calluna,' 'Iverna,' and the Gold Cup challenger 'Navahoe,' and there was general rejoicing on the morning of the day that the American would be certain to get a trustworthy test of speed in her first racing essay. Curiosity to see how she would acquit herself under the circumstances ran high. The match commenced with a free reach to the eastward on the back of a fair tide, and the wind followed and gave a run, but it came in streaks and the fleet were all together at the Warner, the 'Valkyrie' being leader, with 'Navahoe' 75 secs. astern. A nice breeze was found to windward, and in turning in to the Noman 'Valkyrie' worked away from the Yankee and then went for 'Britannia,' which, with 'Satanita,' stood away for the north shore. 'Valkyrie' was then left with 'Navahoe,' and the latter along Ryde Sands and on to the Motherbank got more wind and a slacker tide, inside 'Valkyrie,' and forereached so much the faster that on coming off she crossed comfortably ahead of Lord Dunraven's cutter. 'Navahoe' performed this feat 'on her uppers,' while 'Valkyrie' was stiff as a tree, perhaps through having less wind than there was to leeward. The breezes continued to be served out partially in strength and direction, and 'Britannia,' 'Satanita,' and 'Calluna' were having a bad time in working the north shore down. 'Valkyrie' picked up 'Navahoe' in beating on to Calshot, and went round that mark with just a clear lead. The breeze was unsteady and puffy in reaching to Lepe, but for the most part sheets were checked, and 'Navahoe's' big sail-plan dragged her by to windward of 'Valkyrie,' and she was first round Lepe buoy, but she made a wide sweep in the gybe and 'Valkyrie' ran on to the fore. With a leading wind 'Navahoe' slipped through to leeward into first place before getting to Cowes, and thence they squared away. 'Valkyrie' was not raced with the same spirit as 'Britannia' was on the first run eastward, or the 'Navahoe' would have been luffed out into Spithead; the latter was, in fact, allowed to keep the even tenour of her way, and she rounded the Warner with 10 secs. lead of 'Valkyrie,' 'Britannia' having run up on both, while 'Satanita' had taken the American in nearly 3 mins. With a weather tide and truer and fresher breeze, they had a fair test to windward, and a couple of boards sufficed for 'Valkyrie' and 'Britannia' to weather the American. 'Valkyrie' was sailed to bother 'Britannia,' while the 'Navahoe' was fairly let run loose. Had the sister ships been simply sailing boat against boat, they could not have carried on a keener duel. 'Britannia' beat 'Valkyrie,' but instead of having a substantial lead at Calshot Lightship, she was only just to windward of 'Valkyrie,' and but 1 min. 33 secs. ahead of 'Navahoe.' In reaching to Lepe, 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie' gained in distance on the American, but nothing in time, owing to the rushing lee-tide. There was a smart breeze to blow them home against the boiling stream, and the 'Navahoe's' big sail-plan helped her. Both 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie,' however, kept to the fore, and 'Britannia' finished winner of a hard race, 63 secs. ahead of 'Valkyrie,' 1 min. 23 secs. of 'Navahoe,' 3 mins. 50 secs. of 'Satanita,' and 7 mins. 36 secs. of 'Calluna.' It may be said that 'Satanita' gained 4 mins. 34 secs. and 'Calluna' 6 mins. 18 secs. on the 'Navahoe' in sailing the second round; the pair picked up on 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie' simply owing to the suicidal tactics adopted in racing the sister ships. A breeze was wanting on the opening morning of the Royal Yacht Squadron Regatta to put animation in the scene afloat, still in the flood of sunshine it was a brilliant spectacle. There was a galaxy of private yachts, and quite a fleet of fighting ships of various nationalities riding on the Solent dressed in bunting, the German Emperor's new 'Hohenzollern' looming up a very Triton amongst the host, through which the racing fleet had presently to thread their way eastward. The starters for Her Majesty's Cup were the 'Meteor,' 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Viking,' _née_ 'Wendur,' and 'Mohawk.' An alteration in the course had been made by substituting the Bullock patch buoy for the Nab, and with thoughtful consideration for the length of leg of the modern craft, the three-fathom North Bramble Channel was left out. A dreadfully slow run was made eastward, the 16-1/2 miles from Cowes to the eastern limit of the course taking about 2-1/2 hours to cover. The breezes came in puffs out of every cloud, but mostly from the north or north-west, and in this sort of weather it was absolutely humiliating that the aspirant for America Cup honours should be led round the lee mark by the seven-season-old 'Meteor.' With a better and fairly true breeze westerly 'Valkyrie' and 'Britannia' on a close reach in to the Noman passed the Emperor's cutter, and, from mark to mark eight miles, 'Valkyrie' beat 'Meteor' exactly 4 mins. After fetching well up to Cowes, they turned through the roads, and then got a northerly slant in the west channel; a flying weather-tide settled them bodily to windward, and at Lymington mark 'Valkyrie,' which had gone in grand form to windward, was 3 mins. ahead of 'Britannia' and 15 mins. 40 secs. of 'Meteor,' the time allowance of the last named having thus run out by 68 secs. The wind was breezing up, and they ran through a roaring ebb tide at a fair speed, the modern boats pushing out a tremendous bow wave. The 'Meteor' unquestionably had a stronger following breeze than the two leaders, and with about 3-1/2 ft. less draught than 'Valkyrie,' she could be edged inside the tide rift on the north shore, the result being that she gained 50 secs. on 'Valkyrie,' yet with an allowance of 14 mins. 32 secs. she thus lost by 18 secs. On the question being raised that 'Valkyrie' had not followed the track marked on the official chart furnished, it was admitted that she had left the Nab on the wrong hand, and the Sailing Committee disqualified her and declared the 'Meteor' winner of Her Majesty's Cup. It may be said that the 'Wendur' after rounding Lymington mark attempted to set her spinnaker, but lost the sail, which was picked up by a pilot boat. Worse still, the boom was let drop in the water, and on it breaking two of the crew were badly hurt. Wednesday, August 2, was chosen by the Royal Yacht Squadron for the match for the Meteor Challenge Shield presented by the German Emperor, the course being from Cowes round the Isle of Wight (outside Nab), thence round the Shambles Lightship and back through the Needles passage to Cowes, a distance of 112 miles. According to the conditions four yachts were to start or no race, but out of an entry of six only 'Britannia' and 'Satanita' went for the trophy. The start, which was fixed for seven o'clock, was delayed an hour owing to the card and sailing directions differing. At 8 o'clock, when 'Britannia' and 'Satanita' got away, the 'Valkyrie's' crew, which had made a show of getting the vessel ready, had proceeded as far as hoisting a jib in stops and lashing up the fighting colours, the vessel subsequently lying listless at anchor all day. A charmingly bright clear morning with a bonny breeze from the north-west sent the two ships scudding out in hot haste to the eastward. Spinnakers were on and jackyard topsails, and at the Nab 'Britannia' had run out a lead of 4 mins. Coming on a reach the east stream was faced, and 'Satanita,' doing a wonderful stretch of sailing, had almost drawn level with her rival, when the wind came ahead and gave a beat of about forty miles to the Shambles. In order to shun the tide the Island shore was worked, but 'Satanita' got too close and bumped hard several times on Atherfield Ledge. In working on a nasty short jump of sea was trying the vessels, and off Swanage the breeze came in such hard puffs that big topsails were got down. 'Britannia' worked away from her rival, and after a pretty considerable amount of pile-driving got round the Shambles at 4 o'clock with a lead of 10 mins. They had to face a west tide, and as the evening closed in the wind almost entirely failed. In the west channel it was mere tide-work, and at 9.30 'Britannia' drove across the line winner, 'Satanita' at the time being barely discernible astern. It was an uninteresting match, but a hard one for ships and crews, and in the heavy plunging which went on between the Needles and St. Albans 'Britannia' sprung her mast. Thursday morning opened with a fine singing breeze from the west-south-west, and the match for the Cowes Town Cup gave promise of stirring sport. 'Britannia's' absence, owing to her mast being sprung, was generally regretted; but 'Navahoe,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,' and 'Calluna' appeared under fighting flags. All had a single reef in mainsails, and 'Valkyrie's' topmast was struck, the rest keeping theirs on end. They were sent first to the westward, and had a clean reach to the first mark, a capitally judged start being made. 'Satanita,' nearest the Hampshire shore, was first on the line, with 'Valkyrie' overlapping the western quarter, and 'Calluna' and 'Navahoe' broad to windward. Laying down to the hard breeze, 'Satanita' was given the weight of it, and went smoking away, while 'Navahoe' in weather berth was getting comparatively very lightly sailed. A hard breeze, however, caught the Yankee, making her curl up to an ugly angle, and as she went off her helm, 'Calluna's' crew were getting scared that she would either drop down flat on them or make a wild shoot into their ship. A heavier slam than the first put the 'Navahoe' fairly out of control, and she went down on her side and wallowed helplessly in a smother of foam, until a gripe up to the wind relieved her and she came upright, when particular care was taken not to fill on her again. The weight of the wind had burst the mainsail at the clew, and, after getting the sail off the vessel ran away up Southampton Water, International rivalry thus coming to a summary end for the day. Owing to the strong wind and flood tide, the mark-boat had driven about a mile eastward, so it was soon reached down to, and 'Satanita' was first round, then 'Valkyrie' and 'Calluna.' It was a broad reach to the Warner, and cracking on a jibheaded topsail 'Satanita' was ploughing along at an astounding speed; in fact, she was doing 14-1/2 knots when crossing the Admiralty mile. With a jibheader on, the leader was leaving 'Valkyrie,' which had lost 'Calluna's' close company through the latter, when careening to a squall, fouling the jibboom of the steam yacht 'Cleopatra,' the cutter getting mainsail split and gaff broken. 'Satanita' stayed round the Warner at 10.52, 1 min. 18 secs. before 'Valkyrie,' and the former had the benefit of a reach back as far as Cowes. Heavy squalls came off the Island, and 'Satanita' had lee decks full, 'Valkyrie' by comparison standing up manfully. Owing to the flagboat drifting, they went round Lepe buoy, and having to nip to fetch, 'Valkyrie' gained a trifle. Coming back free, 'Satanita' was driven along with jibheader, and she held a lead of 7-1/2 mins. at the Warner. The homeward track could be laid clean full, and the wind coming off with canvas-splitting force, 'Satanita's' lee decks were washing like a porpoise's back, but she was travelling at a tremendous speed and would have gone much faster and on a more even keel had the topmast been struck. It was a wonderful display of fast sailing on her part, as she finished 8 mins. 13 secs. before 'Valkyrie,' and covered the distance, 48 miles, allowing for the drifted flagboat at Lepe, in 3 hrs. 40 mins. 50 secs., thus averaging a little over 12-1/2 knots. An exceedingly brilliant wind-up of an eventful regatta was made at Cowes on Friday, August 4, when the Royal Yacht Squadron prize was sailed round the Warner-Lepe course. The competitors were 'Satanita,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Calluna,' and 'Navahoe,' and they started on a short beat down the west channel in a rising breeze from the west-south-west, jibheaded topsails being set over whole mainsails. In the first board 'Navahoe' was weathered by each of her rivals, the Yankee being kept hovering in the wind, instead of being made to feel the weight of it, the previous day's experience perhaps being the cause. A heavy squall with sheets of rain passed over before the Western mark-boat was weathered, and they drove back to Cowes with spinnakers, all but the Yankee being run on the wrong gybe. From a run they came to a free reach off Osborne, and went streaking out at a great pace to the Warner, all except 'Satanita' cracking on jackyarders, but 'Valkyrie' shifted back to jibheader off the Sandhead buoy. The latter kept pride of place going east, but in coming back clean full the wind came off the Island in savage puffs and 'Satanita' was racing up. A regular flame of wind struck off above the Peel, and 'Satanita' went by the windward into first place, leaving 'Valkyrie' fairly stuck up. 'Navahoe' and 'Calluna' hung on to big topsails too long, the Yankee continuing whipper-in and falling down flat on her side in the hardest of the gushes. 'Satanita,' too, crabbed up badly, but did not heel to such an angle as 'Navahoe,' and was always lively and manageable in the puffs; she also got up a higher head of speed the fresher the wind piped. On the second round it was harder driving between 'Satanita' and 'Valkyrie' than with 'Calluna' and 'Navahoe,' and after the free reach to the Warner the first named was 2 mins. 2 secs. ahead or 3 secs. short of her allowance. It was just a clean reach from the Noman to Cowes, and some of the puffs came off the Island with the rush of a white squall. 'Satanita' was knocked down flatter than 'Valkyrie,' but she did not steady her speed, and finished a splendidly fought and most exciting race with 2 mins. 9 secs. lead of 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita' winning with 4 secs. to spare. 'Calluna' was 5 mins. 22 secs. astern of the winner, and 'Navahoe' 7 mins. 36 secs. [Illustration: Royal Southampton Yacht Club. 1892. "Warner and Lymington Course".] Ill fortune has of late haunted each annual Saturday fixture of the Royal Southampton Club, and that of August 5, instead of attracting the fleet of heavy weights, was reduced to a match between the 'Navahoe' and 'Calluna.' The 'Britannia' had her new mast in, but was not ready, 'Satanita' was getting a strengthening band shrunk on her masthead, and 'Valkyrie,' which had come across from Cowes to Southampton Water, did not start, fearing there would be too much wind for her sprung main-boom. A north-wester came shooting down Southampton Water fresh enough for 'Navahoe's' small reef to be pulled down, 'Calluna,' however, had whole mainsail and both jibheaders. The Scotch clipper was unluckily sailed through the line too soon, and the 'Navahoe' got two minutes start; but 'Calluna' bringing quite a rattle of wind, nearly nailed her rival at Calshot Spit. The breeze got light in the west channel and came bare, while the tide had to be stemmed. 'Navahoe' kept sailing into the first of the wind, and, getting a fine lift near the Lymington Mark, led by 3 mins. 'Calluna' was sailed without heart or judgment in the run up the west channel, and so on to the Warner. She might well have carried her jackyard topsail going west, and certainly wanted it, coming back with sheets off. 'Calluna' was gybed in Cowes Roads for some reason; and while her opponent was running clean with boom the other side, the Scotch boat was 'by the lee.' 'Navahoe' at length was first to shift her big topsail, and had 6 mins. lead at the time, but when 'Calluna' did go to work sail shifting, it took her crew eighteen minutes to get down the jibheaded topsail and replace it with jackyarder. In the beat from the Warner up past Browndown there were some flukes lying under the north shore which might have been picked up for the seeking, and 'Calluna's' poor attempt at match sailing ended by 'Navahoe' weathering the line off Netley with a lead of 11 mins. 25 secs. The racing fleet mustered in force on the Royal Albert Station, and cruisers swarmed thick as bees to do honour to the last of the Solent racing fixtures. A light gauzy haze in the early morning of Monday, August 14, did not bode well for sport, but an air came just before the starting hour for the Albert Cup, and stretched out the fighting flags of 'Britannia,' 'Navahoe,' 'Calluna,' and 'Satanita.' A south-east breeze of about weight enough for small jib-topsails to be carried with profit to windward was drawing in against the last of the east-going stream, when an eventful race commenced with 'Satanita's' bowsprit end showing first across the line; the others were close at hand, and a pretty start was made. [Illustration: Royal Albert Yacht Club. Southsea. 1892.] The wind freshened at night after Weymouth Regatta, and on Sunday morning there was an ugly sea off the Bill. The yachts which made the passage to Torquay had a coarse time, some of them ran back, others did not leave the Dorset port, the consequence being that there was a poor muster in Torbay. The 'Satanita,' 'Navahoe,' 'Britannia,' and 'Calluna' were ready to answer the starting gun on Monday morning when the wind was piping loud from the westward. All had a reef in mainsails, and topmasts were housed when anchors were broken out, but 'Satanita's' was very unwisely got on end, and she subsequently set a jibheader. 'Satanita,' over-eager, sailed the line too soon, and her opponents had been racing for the off mark nearly 3 mins. before she followed them across. With the wind quarterly, she soon smoked out to the first flagboat, where 'Navahoe' was leader and 'Calluna' second. Then came a beat in a little head jump, and the full drift of the wind was felt. 'Navahoe's' performance in beating to Brixham was far and away her worst display, as she simply crabbed on her uppers and sidled away, while 'Satanita,' crippled as she was with jibheader, was--truth to tell--not shaping a whit better, and seemed to be simply wallowing in dead water. Off Brixham, 'Satanita' had another set back, through one of her extra hands slipping overboard, but a very smart job was made in picking the man up. 'Satanita' was punished with jibheader again on the second round, and 'Britannia,' 'Calluna,' and 'Navahoe' were waltzing away from her. On the third round the sail was pulled down and the spar housed, but it was too late in the day to pick up the first flight. 'Satanita,' however, began to tramp away, and in addition to reaching her rivals beat the lot going to windward. The wind fairly whistled off shore as they reached on for Goodrington, but 'Calluna' and 'Navahoe' did not lower staysails as on the second round. The 'Britannia's' jib, however, burst, and 'Navahoe' shifted hers. The latter was in the way of a regular canvas splitter as she kept away round the Goodrington mark, and falling down flat she swept the mark-boat with her mainsail, but continued the match. At the end of the third round 'Navahoe' was 8 mins. astern of 'Britannia,' and 4 mins. of 'Calluna,' while 'Satanita' had gained 4 mins. on the Yankee in 10 miles. The 'Navahoe's' mainsail was found to be damaged at the clew, and to be giving out at the reef lacing, and just as 'Satanita' was collaring her off the Imperial she drew to the wind and gave up. On the last round 'Satanita' gained 1 min. 42 secs. on 'Britannia,' the latter finishing an easy winner 4 mins. 30 secs. ahead of 'Calluna,' and 7 mins. 9 secs. of 'Satanita.' [Illustration: Torbay Regatta Race Chart Torquay.] The wind hardened during the dark hours, and was blowing a moderate gale from the south-west at sunrise. It had veered westerly and moderated a little an hour before the start, and the 'Britannia,' 'Calluna,' and 'Satanita' housed topmasts, got first reef in mainsails, and set third jibs in anticipation of a dusting. 'Navahoe' could not start, owing to her damaged mainsail; but had she joined in there is no reason to suppose that she would have shaped better than on the previous day, as the wind was about the same in strength and direction, and the course almost identical. 'Britannia' and 'Satanita' made a grand start, but with the wind abaft the beam the latter cleared out at once from under her rival's lee, and gave a really phenomenal display of speed going to the flagboat outside Hope's Nose, covering the distance in 13 mins. 50 secs. She was at the mark in the thick of a passing squall, and when the tiller was put down to bring her by the wind it broke off close into the rudder-head, Jay, who always steers from the lee side, being just saved from going overboard. The mishap was alike annoying to crew and spectators as the vessel would, without doubt, have established a record over the Torbay course. The 'Britannia' and 'Calluna' then had a match, and, curious to state, 'Calluna' in the hard wind which prevailed during the first, second, and third rounds, fairly beat 'Britannia' on each turn while sailing with a free sheet, the advantage gained by the latter being on the beat between the sea mark and Brixham. On the last round the wind took off a little and 'Britannia' made an all-round gain, eventually beating her antagonist by 4 mins. 17 secs. [Illustration: 'Satanita,' 162-rater (A. D. Clarke, Esq.)] In contrast to the tearing pipe-up at Torquay, variable breezes, flaws, catspaws, and calms prevailed in Start Bay when the Royal Dart matches were decided. Owing to the death of the Duke of Coburg the 'Britannia' did not start, but 'Navahoe' was under racing colours again, and she was opposed by 'Calluna' and 'Satanita,' Mr. Crocker, of New York, having arrived just in time to sail the American. All light kites were set, and 'Satanita' led the race on a reach to the Skerries buoy, at which mark 'Navahoe' was whipper-in. 'Calluna,' through luffing out to cover 'Satanita,' let 'Navahoe' through into second place, and the latter ran up close to the leader. The breeze got so soft that they could hardly gain on the tide, and getting a flaw first on one quarter and then on the other positions kept changing, till at the last mark 'Satanita' was just clear ahead of 'Calluna'; the tide, however, hooked the latter and set her on to the mark-boat, and she at once gave up. 'Satanita' and 'Navahoe' reached along in a trickling air with all light kites set, and 'Satanita' finished the first round with a lead of 1 min. 18 secs. Both got in the doldrums near the Start mark, but taking a chill 'Navahoe' got away with a long lead. 'Satanita,' however, brought enough wind to drag her by to windward, and give her a good lead at the east mark. 'Satanita' was lucky enough to get a new wind first, which kept pretty true and steady afterward, and she eventually beat 'Navahoe' in a fluky race by 7 mins. 45 secs. The rising Start Bay Club, to its credit be it said, catered for the big ships, and in return secured the entry of the familiar quartet. After a breathless morning an opportune breeze from the south-east travelled in from sea and put a little life into the start. The 'Satanita,' however, had just before drove on to the outer flagboat and she was then kept lying with staysail to windward. 'Navahoe' crossed the line first, and in a soft breeze went clean full and by for the Torcross flagboat, 'Britannia' and 'Calluna' being sailed finer. 'Satanita,' when told by the Committee to 'go on,' crossed the line 11 mins. 20 secs. after 'Navahoe,' and getting a better breeze than the leaders she gained about 7 mins. on 'Navahoe.' The last named went stealing along in the gentle breeze and finished the first round 33 seconds before 'Britannia.' The breeze freshened and they came on a taut bowline, and after 'Navahoe' had tried her best to wind 'Britannia,' the latter squeezed through her lee and in the next board crossed ahead, while 'Satanita' closed up. After a run from the west to east mark, they had a broad reach home in a fine breeze, 'Britannia' keeping bell-wether. 'Navahoe' held second place in the beat to Torcross, but 'Satanita' went past in going down wind for the next mark. It was a curious finish, as after reaching in fairly foaming, the wind cut off within a quarter of a mile of the winning line, and 'Britannia' came upright. She then got a cyclonic cooler, which filled the lower sails one way and the topsail the other. 'Britannia's' long lead looked likely to be wiped out, as the 'Satanita,' 'Navahoe,' and 'Calluna' were meanwhile tearing in foaming. They in turn got stuck up, however, in the same vortex, and 'Britannia' was logged winner with a lead of 7 mins. 16 secs. of 'Satanita,' 9 mins. 20 secs. of 'Navahoe,' and 12 mins. 44 secs. of 'Calluna.' 'Satanita's' was a remarkably fine performance in such weather; but, after all, she had a bootless journey, the 'Navahoe' taking second prize. [Illustration: Start Bay Yacht Club Dartmouth. 4 Times Round.] The 'Navahoe' did not go further west than Dartmouth, but gave topsail-sheet for Cowes to get her wings clipped and a thorough brush up before the Gold Cup and other challenge cup matches with 'Britannia.' Had the matches for the Royal Victoria Gold Cup been set for decision earlier in the season, and the challenger and defender not previously gauged their speed, deeper and wider interest would very naturally have been taken in the contests. As matters stood, the result appeared a foregone conclusion, yet many were warned by the 'Navahoe's' admirers that a little clipping and other alterations would be found to have wrought an improvement both in stability and speed, and that she would make a closer fight than was generally anticipated. The club arrangements for the first match of the series, on Wednesday, Sept. 6, appeared to be as perfect as possible, and excitement ran high on the morning of the day. There was a great crowd on Ryde Pier, and the official steamer which embarked ticket-holders at Southampton, Cowes, Ryde, and Southsea carried a large and critical company. [Illustration: Royal Dart Yacht Club. Kingswear.] Friday was appointed for the final match over the long Victoria course, and it turned out a very coarse time, the wind coming in tearing squalls and the rain in sheets. 'Navahoe's' mainsail gave out at the eyelet lacings, and the second reef was got down, the start meanwhile being delayed. The American, however, eventually brought up, and Mr. Jameson, who was acting for the Prince of Wales on the 'Britannia,' declined, under the circumstances, to take advantage of a 'sail over,' it being mutually agreed subsequently to race on Monday. Monday opened with a rattling breeze from the eastward, but it had toned down at 11 o'clock, and was then a typical time to test the rivals under lower canvas with mainsails single reefed. As usual with the wind out there was a tumble of sea off Spithead. They started to the eastward at 11.5, and had a beat to the Nab, 'Britannia' having the best of it, as she was broad to windward at the flash of the gun. The west tide was going, and a long stretch was made across Spithead, 'Britannia' giving her rival a blistering for a time. She was too far ahead off the Warner to be spilling 'Navahoe's' head-sail, and, smashing through the short sea in peerless style, beat the American 9 mins. 5 secs.--or a minute a mile--turning to the Nab. Spinnakers Irish-reefed and hoisted to masthead were set after they had reached on to the Spit mark, and a gybe was made off Lee, the western flag being tacked round, and here 'Britannia' led by 9 mins. 7 secs. 'Navahoe' after rounding appeared to be starved for wind, while 'Britannia' was getting rammed along. Soon the jibsheets of the American ran out, and the sail had to be secured, sheets rove, and the sail reset, 'Britannia' meanwhile having hopped a long distance away; and she weathered the home flagboat and finished the first round with a lead of 17 mins. 7 secs. The Nab was turned to in a lighter breeze and smoother water, and 'Navahoe,' getting a northerly slant when off the Elbow buoy of the Dean, made a long leg out, while 'Britannia' had been pegging away at short turnings. The latter, however, weathered the lightship holding a lead of 14 mins. 5 secs., and she only added 10 secs. in going free to the western mark. The wind having backed to the eastward, they could lay clean for home, and with a fair tide the ground was covered very fast. 'Britannia's' masthead had gone aft, and the heel of her housed topmast was sticking out so far that it had torn the staysail just inside the tabling, and the sail split up from foot to head just before she crossed the line victorious in her defence of the Royal Victoria Gold Cup. The 'Britannia' finished at 4 hrs. 29 mins. 17 secs., and 'Navahoe' at 4 hrs. 44 mins. 25 secs. After having finished the deciding match for the Royal Victoria Gold Cup, conqueror and conquered sailed away westward and rode the night out at anchor in Cowes Roads. Tuesday, Sept. 12, was fixed for the race for the Brenton Reef Cup, and it turned out a bright crisp morning, with a fine singing breeze easterly, and, gauged by the loom on the seascape, it appeared probable the wind would prevail from that quarter. According to conditions the course was from off the Needles Rocks round Cherbourg breakwater, passing in at the west end and out at the east, and returning to the Needles, the distance being computed at 120 miles. The antagonists were towed away after breakfast to the rendezvous, and going down the west channel a reef was put in mainsails, No. 3 jibs hoisted in stops, and flying jibs stowed at bowsprit ends, while jibheaded topsails were set after the last pull had been taken at purchases. The owner of the 'Navahoe's' wish that 5 mins. be allowed for crossing the line and the difference corrected at the finish of the match was acceded to, and about 11.30 the official steamer was in position, Mr. R. Grant, secretary of the Royal Yacht Squadron, being officer in charge. The imaginary starting line was formed by bringing the three Needles Rocks in one, and at noon the Blue Peter was lowered and the match commenced. 'Britannia' reached across the line at 12 hrs. 1 min. 6 secs. P.M., the 'Navahoe' at 12 hrs. 2 mins. 5 secs., the Prince of Wales's cutter thus having 54-1/2 secs. to allow at the finish. Sheets were trimmed for a beam wind, and with flying jibs and balloon staysails set they went racing fast across the down-coming ebb. There was a nasty ground swell, and on getting clear from under the lee of the land the full weight of the wind was felt, the sea getting crested and heavy. Jibheaders were handed, flying jibs lowered, and working staysails set, and travelling upwards of twelve knots there was plenty of drift knocking about. 'Britannia' continued to keep 'Navahoe' astern, and two hours after the start 25 miles had been logged. The wind kept true and they continued to sail a punishing race, the vessels labouring a good deal in the lumpy sea, and yawing in all directions. Keeping up an even speed of about twelve knots, they made the breakwater about four and a half hours after the start, and up to this time 'Britannia' had kept her lead. When about five miles off, 'Navahoe' was let come up sharp across the leader's wake, and, making a shoot afterward off her helm, she looked like coming in to her opponent. 'Britannia' dropped back after being thus covered up, and then came into her rival's wake, and they raced on into the comparative smoothing under the land, with 'Navahoe' holding a few lengths lead. Topmasts were housed, and they passed into the breakwater ready for the two-miles beat through Cherbourg Roads. This was at 5 o'clock, and 'Navahoe' had a lead of 25 secs. 'Britannia' drew to close round the buoy, 'Navahoe' found her opponent beating out broad on her weather, and in the first board 'Britannia' held a clear lead. In the last tack 'Britannia' stood on until she could spoil her opponent, and it took 'Navahoe' a few minutes to recover the winding. 'Britannia' headed out of the eastern end with about 2 mins. lead, and on getting in the open the ebb was still going west. It was a clean fetch back, but the wind was heavier and the sea steeper than on coming over. When night closed in they were about half-way across Channel, the vessels then getting fearfully punished. They raced together, however, in a wonderful way, 'Britannia' keeping the lead, with 'Navahoe' about 150 yards astern, the latter running wildly about, pointing one minute wide of the leader's weather quarter and anon for the lee side. Foresails had with difficulty been lowered when the vessels were about two miles off the breakwater, but with the wind more moderate, when they were about five miles off St. Catherine's they were reset. The flood tide was streaming hard, but 'Britannia' on closing in to the Needles was hauled up a bit for fear the wind should draw off the land, while 'Navahoe' was sailed hard along and closed on the leader. As the club steamer could not be anchored in the fairway outside the Needles, she was brought into Alum Bay and moored, and according to official timing 'Britannia' showed 'on' with the Needles Light at 10 hrs. 37 mins. 35 secs. P.M., the 'Navahoe' at 10 hrs. 38 mins. 32 secs., 'Britannia' thus being winner on corrected time by 2-1/2 secs. Mr. Carroll protested that the judge's steamer was not in position, and that the difference between the vessels at the finish was not so much as 57 secs. A meeting of the Royal Yacht Squadron Sailing Committee was called, and it was decided to adjudge 'Navahoe' winner. It need hardly be said that this ruling was thought hard on 'Britannia' after such a grand race, and no explanation of the finding was forthcoming. It was understood that the owner of the 'Navahoe' would not agree to the match being re-sailed. It was arranged to sail for the Cape May Cup on Friday, Sept. 15, under precisely similar conditions to those which governed the Brenton Reef Cup, and over the same course. In order to obviate any difficulty about timing in the dark, it was agreed that the start and finish should be from Alum Bay, and Col. J. Sterling undertook the duties of starter and time-keeper. Seven o'clock was named for a beginning, but the vessels could not move out of Cowes Roads until 9.30, owing to a dense fog choking up the west channel. On getting down to Alum Bay a further wait had to be made, owing to a glass calm prevailing, and it was not until 12.30 that the preparatory flag was broken out. There was a soft westerly breeze at the time, which gave a short beat out to the Needles. Fine generalship was displayed on 'Britannia,' which was intentionally sailed through the line before the gun, and 'Navahoe' was allowed the honour of showing the way. 'Britannia' followed 10 secs. later, and on meeting 'Navahoe' standing off on port tack put her round, and presently stayed dead in her wind. 'Navahoe' got a terrible shake-off, and was 2-1/2 mins. astern at the Needles. They then had a close reach off into the Channel, and with the light breeze narrowing only slow progress was made. An hour and a half after the start 'Britannia' held a lead of about a mile, and at 7 o'clock she was judged to be three miles ahead. At 8 o'clock there was not a breath of wind, the vessels laid in a perfect calm for about two hours, and it was reckoned that 'Britannia' was then about twenty miles off the Wight. At 10.15 a north-east breeze gathered in, 'Britannia' ran away with it, and in the pitchy darkness 'Navahoe' could not be made out. The breeze kept up, and the spinnaker was carried on 'Britannia' until Cape Barfleur lights were made out right ahead. Owing to an alteration in the character of the lights not being noticed on the chart for a time, it was thought 'Britannia' was too far to the westward, the spinnaker was then got off, and the vessel hauled up a little. The western end was made in the grey of the morning, and on entering at 5.29 'Britannia' was holding about three miles lead, but 'Navahoe' was closing up fast. The wind was drawing through Cherbourg Roads, a few boards were made to get weathering distance of the east end, and 'Britannia' was going out at the one end while 'Navahoe' was about entering at the other, the distance between them being a trifle over two miles. The breeze, which came from the northward by east, was growing, and jib topsails were pulled down when about ten miles off. 'Britannia' was sailed to keep her opponent fair in her wake, and she might have been made fetch Christchurch head, but Durleston was the landfall, and the leader tacked off the Dorset headland at 10.15, 'Navahoe' following at 10.45. It was a beat hence home with a weather tide, and 'Britannia' at this game made a terrible exhibition of her opponent, weathering the line winner of the Cape May Cup with a lead of 36 mins. 13 secs. The official timing was, 'Britannia' 12 hrs. 57 mins. 19 secs. P.M., 'Navahoe' 1 hr. 33 mins. 32 secs. P.M. It may be said that 'Britannia's' sail-area in the Gold Cup, Brenton Reef, and Cape May races was 10,327 square feet, and the 'Navahoe's' 10,815 square feet, the latter having been clipped to the extent of 270 feet. In summing up this review it may be said there is little reason to doubt that the 'Britannia' was the best all round vessel of the fleet; the 'Valkyrie' was a trifle the quicker in stays and in light breezes, the better vessel to windward, or even on a long close reach, and also in a dead run. In hard winds and plain sailing the 'Satanita's' 10 ft. greater length on the load-line gave her the mastery over the Prince of Wales's cutter, but on any point and in any weather 'Britannia' was equal to lowering the 'Calluna's' colours. The 'Britannia' and 'Navahoe' were desperately close matched whenever the latter could get a broad reach or run and keep the lee rail out of water, but the Prince of Wales's cutter was immeasurably her superior on the all-important point--going to windward. Perfect handling contributed not a little to 'Britannia's' success, and, sailed as she was by John Carter and Mr. W. G. Jameson, it is certain nothing was given away or lost. She had a peerless record in her class--namely, 33 prizes in 43 starts; the gross value of the prizes won, including challenge cups, being in round numbers 2,500_l._ It must have been highly gratifying to the 'Valkyrie's' designer that the vessel excelled in the very weather and sailing points desired--namely, going to windward and dead running. Her trials with 'Britannia' showed how wonderfully evenly matched the vessels were in moderate weather, and artistic handling was always conspicuous whenever Lord Dunraven's cutter was under a racing flag. 'Valkyrie' made her mark in the short season she had in home waters, her record being 15 prizes in 24 starts, her winnings amounting to 955_l._ The 'Satanita' was a particularly unlucky boat, and on the Clyde her ill fortune passed into a proverb. After breaking the spell with a victory in Belfast Lough, she, however, scored several notable victories, and it was a great feat to win two events at a Royal Yacht Squadron regatta. Her fastest reaching display was no doubt in the Nore to Dover race, but for a short burst the speed she attained in going from the New Pier, Torquay, to the flagboat outside Hope's Nose has perhaps never been equalled by anything of yacht kind. 'Satanita' was not such a handy boat to get round marks or herring-bone through a crowded roadstead as 'Britannia' and 'Valkyrie,' but Jay is deserving of the highest praise for the able way he sailed his charge. 'Satanita's' winnings included a Queen's Cup and the Albert Cup, and in 36 starts she won 13 prizes, value 760_l._ The 'Calluna' was a disappointing boat; indeed, her designer got into a way at last of calling her 'My unlucky boat,' for which expression there was all-sufficient reason. The best of 'Calluna' perhaps remains to be got out of her, yet she went by fits and starts in a wonderful way, but could rarely maintain her form to a finish. She had very strong opposition in 'Britannia,' 'Valkyrie,' and 'Satanita,' but likely enough she would have been an all-round better boat, and perhaps a real flier, with 2-1/2 ft. less beam and 2-1/2 ft. more load-water length. Her skipper, A. Hogarth, is exceptionally smart in handling a small craft; 'Calluna' was his first charge of the heavy-weight line, and she certainly was not the sort of craft to serve an apprenticeship in. The Clyde cutter managed to win 10 prizes in 36 starts, but it was only on two occasions that she sailed home in the van. To small details in a racing vessel's outfit the Americans give much more consideration than British yachtsmen think necessary. Many a wrinkle might have been picked up, however, in making a careful study of the 'Navahoe's' outfit, and there is no doubt that much of the gear and ironwork in English yachts is too heavy. 'Navahoe's' failing was want of stability, and this was found out on the other side before she set out from home. Her iron skin was not in her favour, and we, on this side, have yet to learn that a vessel can be properly laid on a wind when steered with a wheel. The 'Navahoe' started 18 times and won 6 prizes. Including the Brenton Reef Challenge Cup, her gross winnings amounted to 445_l._ The record of broken masts and other spars in connection with first-class vessels was a remarkable one. It is likely that poor quality wood brought about the majority of the breakages; in fact, last season's spars were a rank bad lot. The case was different in 'Thistle's' year, that vessel having a really splendid lot of sticks. It may be said that the 'Britannia' had no fewer than three masts in her forty-three racing essays, one topmast, two bowsprits, and one gaff; 'Calluna' two masts, one main boom, and one gaff; 'Valkyrie' one mast, one topmast, one boom, and one bowsprit; and 'Satanita' one bowsprit and one boom. Referring to the 40-rating class, it was feared at the outset of the season that neither 'Lais' nor 'Vendetta' was any improvement on the over-year 'Varuna.' The last named had quite a triumphal march at the outset, winning four class matches right off. It was at Lowestoft that 'Lais' first gave 'Varuna' a taste of her quality, as she beat the latter by 13 mins. 34 secs. in moderate weather. 'Lais' was afterwards victorious at Dover, Southampton (R. Southern), Largs Regatta, Royal Western of Scotland, Mudhook, Royal Ulster, Royal Irish, Royal Alfred, Royal Yacht Squadron (Australian Cup), Royal Victoria. Altogether she made up a string of 29 prizes in 39 starts, and the gross value of her winnings was 827_l._ 'Varuna' gained first honours in the Royal London match (Thames), Brightlingsea Regatta, Royal Harwich (both days), Royal Mersey (both days), Royal Clyde, Royal Ulster, Royal Cornwall (S.O.), Royal Southampton (2), Royal Albert (2), Royal Dart, and Royal Western, her winning total being 23 prizes in 40 starts, value 605_l._ The 'Vendetta' won her maiden race, and only one more (R. Southern), before leaving the Channel. She was an improved boat when she joined in on the Clyde and won round the Royal Northern course, and she was subsequently to the fore in the Clyde Corinthian Regatta, Royal Clyde, Royal Irish, Royal London (Cowes), Royal Yacht Squadron, Royal Dorset and Torbay (2). In all she gained 18 flags in 33, and the value of her prizes amounted to 490_l._ The 'Thalia' only carried Judge Boyd's colours ten times, and won six prizes, value 150_l._ The 'Dragon III.' was crack of the 20-rating class, and she had a very brilliant record--namely, 31 prizes, value 445_l._, in 34 starts. The 'Dragon' did not go through the season without a little doctoring, her formidable opponent, the 'Deirdré,' being found very hard to beat after being shortened about 10 in. on the water-line, and getting 45 square feet more sail-area; so 'Dragon' was altered in like manner, and 'Deirdré' had again to take second place. The new 'Vigorna' was a failure, and 'Dragon' and 'Deirdré' were too good for the 'Molly' ('Dragon II.'). The 'Zinita' would perhaps have proved equal to tackling the 'Dragon III.' by the wind, but Mr. Hill's boat would certainly have been able to score heavily with checked sheets. 'Deirdré's' record was 21 prizes in 35 starts, and the 'Zinita's' 18 in 24 starts. The 'Phantom' was the crack of the tens, with 14 prizes in 24 starts; and the 5-rater 'Red Lancer' in going round the coast managed to win 24 flags in 34 racing essays. [Illustration: Mr. Hill's 'Dragon III,' 20-rater.] This review would not be complete without some reference to sails, and it may be said that those made by the joint firms of Laphorn and Ratsey were really wonderful and perfect specimens of the art. Still, 'Valkyrie's' canvas elicited the greatest praise in America, and especially from General Paine, who said her suit 'fitted like a glove; the most perfect canvas he had ever seen in America.' The quality of the material and workmanship was strikingly evident in 'Britannia's' mainsail, which lasted a season through, and after all the fagging and rough work it had, it kept its shape to the end of the season. The 'Valkyrie' had a mainsail made of Sea Island cotton for the America Cup matches, but most people would vote flax good enough after seeing such a sail as 'Britannia's.' The 'Satanita,' 'Calluna,' and 'Valkyrie's' mainsails stood equally well as 'Britannia's,' and those of the 40-raters 'Lais' and 'Vendetta' could not have been better. The twenties were quite as well done by; but the plan of giving the last-named class wide cloths in a measure spoils the beauty of the sails. The patent jibs introduced by T. Ratsey were very pretty sails, but they seemed liable to go across the diagonal seam in a gusty wind. CHAPTER XII THE AMERICAN YACHTING SEASON OF 1893 BY LEWIS HERRESHOFF The yachting season of 1893 was inaugurated by the laying of 'Navahoe's' keel in the autumn of 1892, at the construction shops of the Herreshoff Company, in Bristol, R.I. Interest was soon centred in her, for it was clear that she was intended for some unusual service, and when her owner Mr. R. P. Carroll, announced his programme for the season of 1893, of going to England to try for the American cups there, and to take part in what racing he might, there was an astonishing awakening of enthusiasm on both sides of the Atlantic, which culminated in the international contest off New York in October 1893, that being without question the most exciting and interesting series of races ever witnessed. Early in December 1892 the challenge from Lord Dunraven was finally settled and adjusted, creating a patriotic ardour in all English and American yachtsmen. Almost simultaneously the 'Valkyrie,' 'Britannia,' 'Calluna,' and 'Satanita' in England, and 'Colonia,' 'Vigilant,' 'Jubilee,' and 'Pilgrim' in America, were begun, the last three English yachts being expressly intended to defend the American and other trophies against the attack of 'Navahoe,' as well as more fully to test the value of 'Valkyrie,' on which rested the herculean task of returning the America Cup to its native shores. The early months of 1893 were spent by the yachting circles of both England and America in discussions on and comparisons of the merits of their favourite design and construction, rig and so forth. All attempts by the designers and builders to keep their work secret were utterly futile, for all essential information as to dimensions and chief characteristics found their way into the newspapers, giving zest to the public interest and discomfiture to the builders, who set seals on the mouths of their workmen and watchmen, and blocked every door and window where the prying public might steal a view of the coming wonder; but seals and watchmen could not evade the desire to know what was to be the form and outline of the 'Defenders,' as the American yachts were popularly called. The table on p. 402 gives important information concerning the five American yachts of 1893, to which is added 'Valkyrie,' her dimensions being important for comparison with the American vessels. 'Navahoe' was built under restrictions that precluded all expectations of attaining the highest speed; she was intended for a cruiser which in the event of necessity could be rigged and sailed so as to make a good show with yachts then in existence. Her performance in English waters, although disappointing, was but little below the anticipations of those who knew her and understood the value of her opponents, whose lines were not drawn when 'Navahoe' was begun. The yachts 'Navahoe,' 'Colonia,' and 'Vigilant' are all after the type of 'Gloriana' and 'Wasp,' but differing widely in some points, the first and last being centreboard vessels, and 'Colonia' a keel, but of not sufficient lateral plane, rendering her windward work faulty. 'Vigilant' represents perhaps more nearly than the others the so-called American type; she combines a broad beam with good depth, and with her centreboard down draws about 23 ft. +---------+---------------+----------------+-------------+--------+------+----+--------+------+-----------+ | Cutter | Owner | Designer | Builders | Length |L.W.L.|Beam| Draught| Sail-|Sail-makers| | | | | |over all| | | | area | | +---------+---------------+----------------+-------------+--------+------+----+--------+------+-----------+ | | | | | ft. | ft. | ft.|ft. ins.| ft. | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Navahoe {R. P. Carroll, | N. G. {Herreshoff } 123 | -- | 23 { 13 0 | -- {Wilson and | | {N.Y. | Herreshoff {Manufacturing} | | { 23 0 | {Silsby | | | | {Co. } | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Colonia {Arch. Rogers } " | " | 128 | 85.48| 24 | 15 3 |11,340| " | | {and others, } | | | | | | | | | {N.Y. } | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |Vigilant {E. D. Morgan } " | " | 127 | 86.12| 26 { 14 0 |11,312{Wilson and | | {and others, } | | | | { 24 0 | {Griffen, | | {N.Y. } | | | | | | {N.Y. | | | | | | | | | | | | |Valkyrie |Lord Dunraven | Geo. L. Watson| Henderson | 117.25 | 85.50| -- | 17 6 | -- | Ratsey | | | | | | | | | | | | |Jubilee {Chas. J. Paine,} J. B. Paine {Lawley Corp.,} 125 | 84.47| 23 { 13 9 |11,342{Wilson and | | {Boston } {Boston } | | { 22 0 | {Silsby | | | | | | | | | | | | |Pilgrim {Bayard Thayer } Stewart and |Pussey and } 123 | 85.28| 23 | 22 6 |10,261| " | | {and others, } Binney |Jones } | | | | | | | {Boston } | | | | | | | | +---------+---------------+----------------+-------------+--------+------+----+--------+------+-----------+ The chief characteristic of her construction is the employment of Tobin bronze for her plating (save the upper row of plates, which are of steel), and her centreboard, also of bronze, is made of two plates set apart with ribs between, the space of 2-1/2 in. being filled with cement; the structure weighing 7,750 lbs., and being operated from the cabin by means of differential lifts, capable of raising 6 tons. 'Jubilee' is of unusual design and construction; her body is wide and shallow, with a fin attachment carrying about 40 tons of lead at a depth of 13 ft. below the water's surface, and to increase the lateral plane she has a centreboard that works through the fin and its bulb of lead, exposing surface enough to ensure most excellent windward work, dropping about 8 or 10 ft. below the bulb. 'Pilgrim' is an out-and-out fin-keel yacht, the largest vessel of that type ever built. Like 'Jubilee,' she is broad and shallow of body, the fin being of a separate construction, and this with its bulb of 15 tons weight was attached to the vessel in New York, the hull having been built in Wilmington on the Delaware. She carried her bulb 23 ft. below water, which gave her good stability and power to hold her course when sailing to windward; but with her, as in some measure with 'Jubilee,' they did not represent any authorised, well-tested type of yacht, and though their performances were interesting and highly instructive, they did not fill the mind of the true yachtsman with glowing satisfaction, seeing that the work that was in hand was one of national importance and required designs of equally high character. The middle of July found all four yachts in sailing, if not racing, trim; their owners scrupulously avoided contact with each other; each claimed unheard-of speed and other noble qualities; and each felt that his craft was that on which would rest the honour of defending the America Cup. It was soon found that the booms of 'Colonia' and 'Vigilant' were not satisfactory; they were not stiff enough to hold the sail where it should be to ensure a flat set, and when swung off their weight was found to list the yacht too much, both of which difficulties were to be expected in spars of their length and diameter (100 ft. long by 16 in.). Hollow booms of different construction were tried. Those where the spar was sawed lengthwise and the core dug out, then glued and trenailed together, were found to be the best. Booms of highly elaborate construction made for 'Colonia' and 'Vigilant' were tried and found unsuitable. They were built up of long staves, having double skins which were well glued and fastened, and weighed less than half the solid spar; they were 30 in. at slings, 18 in. at after, and 15 in. at forward ends, but they evidently were lacking in material enough to endure the tension on one side and the compression on the other, and were condemned after a short trial. In the first regatta of the N.Y.Y.C. cruise on August 7, 'Colonia' and 'Vigilant' met; it was at the head of Long Island Sound, triangular course. There came a puff of wind a moment after starting, and before the defenders sailed a mile 'Vigilant' broke down and withdrew, leaving 'Colonia' without an opponent, as 'Jubilee' and 'Pilgrim' did not join the fleet until later. The race for the Goelet Cups off Newport on August 11 was famous for first bringing together all four of the 'Defenders,' and infamous in the annals of yachting for being the most disappointing occasion that was ever remembered. Calms varied by light baffling breezes, generally from the east; mists mitigated by clearing moments, which finally settled into a hopeless calm and densest of fogs. 'Colonia' came drifting home nearly fifteen hours from the start, with 'Vigilant' and 'Jubilee' an hour or two behind. 'Pilgrim' had long before withdrawn. The course was from Brenton's Reef light-vessel to that at the entrance to Vineyard Sound, thence a short leg to the light-vessel at the entrance of Buzzard's Bay, and thence to the point of starting--about thirty-six miles. The only fact disclosed by this race was that 'Jubilee' was as good as 'Vigilant' in beating out to the Vineyard Light, and that 'Vigilant' was faster than 'Jubilee' in reaching, for the latter was caught and passed by 'Vigilant' a few moments before the wind wholly disappeared. [Illustration: New York Yacht Club. 1893. Regatta Course.] During the continuation of the cruise there were several tests of speed in going from port to port, in which 'Vigilant' showed herself to be the fastest. [Illustration: 'Vigilant,' Cup defender.] The races for the Astor Cups off Newport were in the main unsatisfactory as real tests of speed and desirable qualities, but in all it was more and more assured that 'Vigilant' was the best, and also that 'Pilgrim' was far from fulfilling the expectations of those responsible for her. The August races ended without affording any definite information as to the comparative value of the 'Defenders,' but there was a growing opinion that 'Vigilant' was best, with 'Colonia' and 'Jubilee' about even, and 'Pilgrim' well astern; this classification, however, was from inference rather than any absolute test. 'Jubilee' and 'Pilgrim' went to Boston to prepare for the final trial, to take place off New York in a series of races beginning September 7. It was decided by the owners of 'Pilgrim' to give her more power; lead was added to her bulb, spars lengthened, and sail-spread increased. 'Jubilee' underwent only minor alterations, whilst 'Colonia' and 'Vigilant' tried to improve the set of their sails (a hopeless task) and otherwise prepared for the all-important final race. In the first of the trial series 'Colonia' and 'Vigilant' were about even, the Boston boats being disabled by damage to their gear. The second and third races were victories for 'Vigilant,' the last race being sailed in a fine wind and fairly rough sea. Those who wanted to see an actual test of qualities were again bitterly disappointed, for the Boston boats did not show as they might have done had their rigging and spars remained intact; but in the case of 'Pilgrim' it was clear that her increased sail-spread and consequent augmentation of weights below and aloft imposed too severe strains on her hull and rigging, so that structural weakness became alarmingly evident before the close of the race, when she was at once put out of commission, since which she has been sold, and will appear next as a harbour steamer for passengers. The choice of 'Vigilant' to defend the cup was a wise one--in fact, the committee could decide nothing else, for it was clear that 'Colonia' could not do good work to windward, through lack of lateral resistance; and 'Jubilee,' although unquestionably a very fast yacht--in some instances the equal of 'Vigilant'--was rigged with such untrustworthy material that she could not be depended upon to enter so important a struggle as the defence of the America Cup. After the trial races and consequent choice of 'Vigilant' as defender, public attention was centred on the coming of 'Valkyrie.' Day after day passed and yet no news of her; at last anxiety was felt for her safety, seeing that she had not been positively reported since her sailing. But, after a thirty days' voyage, she appeared at sunrise off Sandy Hook, none the worse for her stormy passage. 'Valkyrie' was quickly put in racing trim, and on the arrival of Lord Dunraven all the final arrangements for the contest were settled and both yachts prepared for the struggle, the last act being the docking of them to make their wetted surfaces as smooth and repellent of water as possible. The America Cup races were set to begin on October 5 and four following alternate days, the first, third, and last to be 15 knots from the lightship off Sandy Hook and return in a course parallel with the wind; the second and fourth races to be triangular, 10 knots on each leg, to start from the same point, and to have one leg to windward; all races to be started from a single gun, and to be sailed in a limit of six hours. [Illustration: Earl of Dunraven's 'Valkyrie.'] As the day approached the excitement became intense; yachtsmen and sportsmen flocked to New York from all parts of the country. Betting ran in favour of 'Vigilant' (3 to 2), some bets being taken at large odds against 'Valkyrie's' not being able to win a single race in the series. _First Race, October 7, 1893_ +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+---------+ | -- |Start| Turn | Finish |Elapsed |Corrected| +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+---------+ | |h. m.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s. | |Vigilant |11 25| 1 50 50| 3 30 47| 4 5 47| 4 5 47 | |Valkyrie |11 25| 1 58 56| 3 38 23| 4 13 23| 4 11 35 | +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+---------+ 'Vigilant' wins by 5 mins. 48 secs. _Second Race, October 9, 1893_ +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+--------+---------+ | |Start| First | Second | Finish |Elapsed |Corrected| | -- | | mark | mark | | | | +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+--------+---------+ | |h. m.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s. | |Vigilant |11 25| 1 6 35| 1 56 55| 2 50 1| 3 25 1| 3 25 1 | |Valkyrie |11 25| 1 11 20| 2 5 52| 3 2 24| 3 37 24| 3 35 36 | +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+--------+---------+ 'Vigilant' beat 'Valkyrie' on first leg 4 mins. 35 secs., on second 4 mins. 12 secs., and on third 3 mins. 26 secs. 'Vigilant' won by 10 mins. 35 secs. _Third Race, October 13, 1893_ +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+---------+ | -- |Start| Turn | Finish |Elapsed |Corrected| +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+---------+ | |h. m.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s.|h. m. s. | |Vigilant |12 27| 2 35 35| 3 51 39| 3 24 39| 3 24 39 | |Valkyrie |12 27| 2 33 40| 3 53 52| 3 26 52| 3 25 19 | +---------+-----+--------+--------+--------+---------+ To windward 'Valkyrie' gained 1 min. 55 secs. Off the wind 'Vigilant' gained 4 mins. 8 secs. 'Vigilant' won by 40 secs. Every steamer, tugboat, or anything propelled by an engine within 250 miles of the scene of the contest was pressed into service; and the fleet by sail and steam started for New York, bearing eager, interested men who had laid aside every business or social engagement to witness what was felt to be the greatest yachting event the world had ever known. The 5th came. The bay and surrounding waters were alive with craft loaded with excited spectators, but all were doomed to the bitterest disappointment. It was a perfectly exasperating day--light winds varied by calms; and spectators saw the nation's hope absolutely forsaken by the treacherous breeze, whilst her opponent sailed away with favouring flaws until the American was hopelessly distanced. The time limit was reached before two-thirds of the course were covered, and yachtsmen as well as spectators returned utterly disgusted. The abortive race of the 5th afforded not the slightest clue to the comparative value of the contending yachts, so on the 7th the prospects of the coming race were as uncertain as ever. The day was again disheartening; a waning westerly wind gave no promise of a good race; the attendance was still large, but there was a decided falling off in numbers from the first day. The yachts were sent off east by south at a six or seven mile pace, the 'Vigilant' slowly gaining; but when about half-way to the outer mark 'Vigilant' took a start and rapidly drew away from 'Valkyrie,' so that when within three miles of the mark she was one and a quarter mile in the lead. Here a soft spot in the wind occurred, and 'Valkyrie' drew on the brass-bottomed boat; but at that moment the wind shifted more southerly, blowing over the quarter rail of the yachts, and 'Vigilant' again drew away from her pursuer, turning nearly a mile and a half in advance. The wind having changed in direction there was no windward work, the yachts returning two or three points free, and maintaining the same relative distance at the close as at the outer mark. The race of the 7th, although a decided victory for the American, was not generally considered as a satisfactory test of sailing qualities; the wind was unsteady in force and direction, and to some extent fluky, but in the opinion of those who were competent to judge, the 'luck' was rather more on the side of the 'Valkyrie' than the 'Vigilant,' the English, however, stoutly declaring the reverse. The real value of the two yachts in windward work was still unknown, and although 'Vigilant' had scored by a good margin one race, still the result was then quite uncertain. October 9 opened with a fair promise of wind; the interest was still deep and the attendance large; the course was triangular, ten miles each side. The first leg was to windward; the yachts started about equal as to time and position. At first 'Valkyrie' seemed to lead--that is, she outfooted the American; but the latter was slowly edging up toward the wind, and later, when a good weather position was gained by 'Vigilant,' her skipper gave her more power, and with the increasing wind she rapidly left her opponent astern, rounding the first mark well in the lead. The next leg was a broad run, and all that witnessed it unite in declaring that yachts never made such time in a race before. They flew; but 'Vigilant' flew the faster, and nearly doubled the handsome lead that she had obtained on the rounding of the first mark. The home leg was with a freshening free wind two points forward of beam. It was made without incident, save that 'Vigilant' had to favour her bowsprit that was sprung on the windward stretch, her jib-topsail was lowered, and head-sails eased in regard for the weakened spar. On the home stretch 'Vigilant' still further widened the distance between her and the English yacht, and made a most decided point in her favour. The race was a fine one, but it seemed to seal the fate of 'Valkyrie'; still with native pluck her undaunted owner made ready for the next race. By a most masterful stroke a new mainsail was bent, and more lead given the cutter, so that she lost fifteen seconds of time allowance from the American. October 11th proved another disappointing day. Light breezes and calms ruled; the beat of fifteen miles resulted in no decisive difference in the sailing of the yachts, for when the time-limit was reached the yachts were far from home, with the American yacht leading. On the 12th a gale was reported as working up the coast, and great hopes were entertained of a fresh wind for the fifth start. Many thought that the American yacht would beat her opponent more easily in a strong wind and rough sea, but they were disappointed, as the sequel proved. When October 13 dawned an easterly gale was blowing up; early in the morning the wind began to pipe and the sea to roughen, and by the time of starting the wind had set in strong and steadily from the east. After some delay caused by an accident to the rigging of 'Valkyrie,' that was speedily repaired on board, the two yachts shot away for a fifteen-mile thresh to windward, the 'Valkyrie' at the south end of the line, and 'Vigilant' at the north end--a fair start. At first 'Vigilant' outfooted 'Valkyrie' and held nearly or quite as well to the wind; but when the windward work was about half finished the wind drew more from the south of east, it soon began to increase in good earnest, and from that moment 'Valkyrie' got further away from 'Vigilant,' and turned the outer mark nearly two minutes ahead. On starting, the yachts had each a reef down, 'Vigilant' a whole reef, 'Valkyrie' a half reef in her mainsail, each her working topsail set, with usual head-sails. After the mark was turned it became apparent that if 'Vigilant' were to win she must work, and, as it proved, no lack of energy was displayed on either yacht. The reef was turned out of 'Vigilant's' mainsail, and her No. 1 club topsail set over it. The storm that had been threatening all day now began to increase, the wind rose rapidly and the sea became very rough. 'Vigilant' gained noticeably on her opponent, and passed her when about half-way to the home point. The contest was now most exciting; the rigging of both yachts was strained to the last degree. Soon after the 'Valkyrie' was passed by 'Vigilant,' her spinnaker, that was torn in setting, became disabled by splitting; another but smaller one was set in its place, but that also soon gave way to the ever-increasing force of the wind. The last three miles of the race were a mad rush for the 'Vigilant'; she carried all the sail that could be spread, and it seemed that an inch more of canvas would carry everything by the board. She gained more quickly than ever on her crippled follower, and crossed a close winner in the midst of the most exciting scene that yachting annals have ever recorded. It is hard to say if the 'Vigilant' would have won had 'Valkyrie' not lost her light sails; but if the latter claims that her race was thus lost, 'Vigilant,' with equal sense of right, can claim that a maladjustment of her centreboard lost her at least five minutes on the beat out. Closely following the termination of the races both yachts were put into winter quarters, and owners as well as crews took breath, enjoying a well-earned rest. It is not possible at this early moment to draw any absolutely settled conclusions as to the merits or demerits of the contesting yachts. Fortunately Lord Dunraven decided to leave 'Valkyrie' in the States for a continuation of the contest in 1894, when if the races that are now hoped for occur, and all the yachts take part that now promise to do so, it will be a far more useful and interesting contest than was afforded by the races of 1893. A few points that are worth considering force themselves on the close observer of the international races of 1893. October is one of the worst periods of the whole year for racing, at least during the first half of the month; the winds then are light and inconstant in force and direction, and calms are of longer duration than at any period during the yachting season. From August 15 until September 20 is without doubt the most favourable time for racing, and when another international contest is contemplated, it is to be hoped that the races will be set at least three weeks earlier than those of 1893. This international sport awakens such a widespread interest, serving, as it were, as a great national school in yachting and racing, that it is to be hoped as much facility as possible may be afforded the public for witnessing them; therefore, let all international races be held in New York waters, where they were in 1893, as that point is more accessible than any other to those interested. We in America must establish some school for the training of skippers and crews; there is not to-day a professional skipper in the country, nor a crew that is capable of sailing a yacht against the English. The best school possible is actual racing, and when we present to our yachtsmen a racing list as long as that published in England, then we can hope to have captains and men fit to hold their own. The English may learn of the Americans how to design a yacht that will bear pushing to extreme speeds without making such a disturbance in the water as did 'Valkyrie.' They can also take lessons in staying the mast and masthead, and in proportioning the sizes of spars and standing rigging more closely to the labour assigned them. The Americans may learn of the English how to make canvas that will stand where it is desired; and when it is made they can also learn of them how to make sails and how to set them; and in general to copy the management of their yachts when racing, that when we meet the English in international races we may be able to rig and sail our yachts in such manner that an expert would be able to say whether any advantage on either side was due to design, or if not to that factor alone, to place the cause of advantage where it belongs, so that the lesson set by such races may be of some benefit to those who have the improvement of yacht-designing and sailing near their hearts. The long-mooted question of keel _v._ centreboard still remains unanswered, and in fact it never can be determined as a general rule. In close windward work there seems little or no difference between the keel and centreboard as to speed; the latter has some advantage when sailing free by raising the board, thus lessening the wetted surface of the yacht. The great and undeniable superiority of the centreboard lies in the fact that a yacht possessing it can essentially reduce her draught of water so as to work in depths that would be wholly impossible for the keel vessel. It would seem, therefore, that the advantage gained in the use of the centreboard is mainly not one of sailing qualities, but one of desirability for use in certain locations where shallow water prevails. The interest exhibited in the international races by those who were able to be present has already been mentioned, but it yet remains to notice the astonishing degree of excitement as to the result of the races evinced by the public at large. From Maine to California, and from Michigan to Florida, news of the struggle was eagerly awaited, and in all the cities, towns, and even villages the exact position of the yachts was exposed on a bulletin board, the news being sent by telegraph every five or ten minutes, or more often if the change of position of the yachts demanded it. In some of the larger cities where the interest was most intense such crowds collected in front of the bulletin boards that traffic had to be suspended; in New York City the stock-board was deserted, and business generally was at a standstill. CHAPTER XIII THE AMERICA CUP RACES, 1893[24] BY SIR GEORGE LEACH, K.C.B. [Footnote 24: Though the subject is so ably treated by Mr. Herreshoff in the previous chapter, the Editors, recognising the extraordinary importance of these races, have thought well to include a detailed description of events kindly furnished by a prominent English yachtsman.] On October 5th, the opening day of the races, the first thing to strike the observer was the extraordinary number and diversity of craft attracted by the spectacle. Near the Sandy Hook Lightship we find the racers were under way, with whole mainsails and jackyarders set. 'Vigilant' looks a bigger ship than 'Valkyrie,' with a more numerous crew, and four battens in the leach of her mainsail and three in her staysail. The two vessels were easily distinguished one from the other, 'Vigilant' being painted white above her bright yellow Tobin bronze, 'Valkyrie' black with gilt line. The starting-line was between the commodore's steam yacht 'May,' the New York Club's flagship, and Sandy Hook Lightship. There was no tide. The wind was a little east of north, and the course 15 miles to leeward round a mark and back. 'Vigilant' allowed 'Valkyrie' 1 min. 48 secs. The first gun was at 11.15 A.M., the start gun 10 mins. after. Just prior to the start the yachts set their head-sails. 'Vigilant' sent up a large bowsprit spinnaker, a very favourite sail in American waters, and 'Valkyrie' a large jib-topsail. The crowd was immense, excursion steamers, tugs, yachts; and at the start came the horrible screech of steam whistles, customary on these occasions, but dreadful all the same. Spinnakers were at once run up on the starboard side, but the wind was so light that, in spite of the enormous sail-areas, little progress was made. By noon the sky was clear and the sun came out, but at 1.30 there was a marked change. The wind shifted, and a light air came from S.W. 'Vigilant' took in her bowsprit spinnaker a little too soon, for 'Valkyrie,' holding on somewhat longer, ran up, and passing to windward so effectually blanketed 'Vigilant' that she lost steerage way for some ten minutes. During this time 'Valkyrie' crept up to the S.W. wind, and was going on her way rejoicing. The S.W. wind held true; it became a close haul to the mark, which 'Valkyrie' rounded at 3 hrs. 37 mins. 20 secs. The 15 miles took 4 hrs. 12 mins. 'Vigilant' rounded at 4 hrs. 2 mins. 30 secs., twenty-five minutes after 'Valkyrie,' whose performance created great disappointment to English sympathisers. At 5.10 the Committee stopped the race--if race it could be called. The excitement on shore as well as afloat was intense. Upwards of 200 steamers of various kinds accompanied the race, all crowded with spectators, and some of them got terribly in the way at the start of the race, the police-boat warning them off, and 'Valkyrie' holding up from her deck, in large letters, 'Keep further off.' On the whole, the course was fairly kept, and there was certainly no intention to injure 'Valkyrie's' chance--quite the contrary. I am happy to say the spirit of _fair_ play appeared to animate all; the anxiety of the captains of the steamers to show their friends as much as possible was really the sole cause of trespass. This day's race was another example of the frequency with which races to windward and leeward and return fail in their object, especially in early October in these waters, when the wind is more fluky and lighter than at any other time of the year. If the S.W. wind had piped up a little, it would have been a reach both ways. On the whole, triangular races are best courses. On the second day, October 7, after rain in the early morning, it became fine and bright as the New York Club's steamer left No. 8 Pier at 9.15. Not quite so many steamers appeared, although there were probably over 150, many large excursion ones, and yachts. One yacht stood prominently out, and was conspicuous for her taut brig rig and large tonnage, 2,400--a grand vessel, the 'Valiant,' designed by St. Clare Byrne for Mr. Vanderbilt, and built at Liverpool. There was also a large yacht of the 'Chazalie' type; and I may also mention Commodore Morgan's steam yacht 'May,' designed by Mr. G. L. Watson. The wind, W. by S., was still very light, with a gentle swell from the southward. Course, 15 miles to leeward, round mark, and return. The start at 11.25 was admirable. 'Valkyrie,' beautifully handled, out-manoeuvred 'Vigilant,' and crossed the line to windward about 10 secs. ahead. Spinnakers were at once hauled out on the starboard side, both setting balloon jib-topsails and lowering foresails. Bowsprit spinnakers are more correctly to be termed balloon jib-topsails, the difference being that the balloon jib-topsail is hanked on the stay. 'Vigilant' drew ahead, and at 12.25 was a quarter of a mile in front. 'Vigilant,' a quarter of a mile to the eastward, got a streak of wind and increased her lead, her balloon jib-topsail drawing well. At 1.30 'Vigilant' was nearly a mile ahead; she tacked round the mark 1 hr. 50 mins. 30 secs., 'Valkyrie' following at 1.59, when she was bothered by a small steamer. The 15 miles took 2-1/2 hrs. to accomplish, but on the return there was no beating to windward, a close haul with jib-topsails set. The windward work was again frustrated by shift of wind. It was a plain sail home, and h. m. s. 'Vigilant' crossed the line 3 30 16 'Valkyrie' " " 3 37 57 After deducting time allowance, the English boat lost by 5 mins. 53 secs. One of the members of the Committee took the velocity of the wind at different periods of the race, as follows:-- Velocity h. m. per hour 11 25 10 1 56 14.5 2 3 9 3 23 9 3 35 8.8 It will be well to remember that here velocity does not indicate strength as we feel it at home. As Lord Dunraven particularly noticed, the dryness of the wind reduces the pressure, which the moisture of our climate so materially increases. The result of the race seemed to show that the two yachts were fairly matched, so that if one got a slice of luck the other was not likely to recover without a slice too, or a good streak. The course was better kept; but, although the race was not affected by it, the 'Valkyrie' was favoured by the wash of steamers on the return from the mark-boat. On the third day, October 9, everything promised well; the weather was all that could be desired to test the relative merits of the two racers; the morning bright, with a good topsail breeze, and the white crests on the wavelets gave hopes of great sport. The Club steamer left the pier at 9 A.M.; but on our arrival at Sandy Hook no breeze was there. The steamers were fewer in number; I had, however, no difficulty after the start in counting fifty, besides yachts under canvas. Going down the river we passed one very striking object, the well-known gigantic and magnificent statue of Liberty, which stands on a small island. I must say I never saw anything finer, either in conception or execution. The wind was from the S.W., the course triangular, round marks placed by steamers with a large red ball hoisted, the steamers remaining near to indicate their positions, which were so stationed as to make each side of the triangle ten miles. Both yachts carried jackyarders and jib-topsails. The start took place at 11.30, after some pretty manoeuvring as usual, 'Valkyrie' getting the weather berth, and a little ahead. About 12.30 the wind increased, with a little jump of sea, and both went round on the port tack; here 'Vigilant's' power began to tell. 'Vigilant' bore round the first mark at 1 hr. 6 mins., and 'Valkyrie' 4 mins. 50 secs. later. A broad reach on starboard followed, 'Vigilant' setting her balloon jib-topsail very smartly. Soon after this 'Vigilant' sprung her bowsprit and took in her jib-topsail. The second mark was rounded by 'Vigilant' at 2 hrs. 1 min., 'Valkyrie' at 2 hrs. 10 mins. 3 secs. Now came the last ten-mile reach on the port tack to the finish. The wind piped up still stronger; but 'Vigilant,' though carrying only a small jib-topsail, still increased her lead, finishing a winner at 2 hrs. 49 mins. 3 secs., 'Valkyrie' coming in 12 mins. 20 secs. after her. After deducting time allowance she lost the race by 10 mins. 32 secs. The wind velocities were as follows:-- At the start 10 miles per hour " first mark 15 " " " second mark 22 " " " finish 29 " " On the fourth day, October 11, the start was delayed, the competitors hoping for wind, but it was made at 1.45. Course, south by west to windward and back. 'Valkyrie,' there is no doubt, was always beautifully handled, and it would be wrong not to recognise the ability Cranfield has shown throughout, whether in manoeuvring for the line or in sailing 'Valkyrie' during the races in waters far from home. To these he is not a stranger, having had some experience with Sir Richard Sutton in the 'Genesta' (1885) when sailing against 'Puritan.' This race, October 11, could not be finished within the prescribed time, six hours, and therefore the tugs took the competitors in tow, homeward bound. On the fifth day, October 13, the course was to windward and leeward. This was the great day, and included many most exciting episodes. 'Valkyrie' had altered her trim, but news had arrived of a hard blow in the south, and in heavy weather what could she do against the more powerful boat, the 'Vigilant'? The weather was overcast and cloudy, wind S.E., blowing moderately at Sandy Hook Lightship. When 'Valkyrie' was below the Narrows her mainsail was lowered, one of the throat-halliard blocks had to be repaired, and it was 11.19 before she neared the starting point. The course, due east, was given from the steam yacht 'May.' Signals now came from 'Vigilant,' 'Time wanted for repairs.' Her centreboard was jammed, but finally it was lowered about eleven feet. At 12.7 the Blue Peter was run up on the flagship. The two were under the same canvas, each with jibheader over single-reef mainsails, foresail, and jib. At 12.17 came the preparatory gun, and then began some of the prettiest manoeuvring ever seen in these waters as the two big cutters chased each other like a couple of kittens for the weather berth. 'Valkyrie' passed the line up to windward 12 hrs. 27 mins. 10 secs., 'Vigilant' to leeward 3 secs. later. It was a long tack, some six miles, towards Long Island, 'Valkyrie' carrying her canvas decidedly the better of the two; to-day she was notably stiff--in fact, at no time has she ever been tender. She pointed as high as 'Vigilant,' and held her weather berth easily. The latter was heeling over much at 1 hr. 18 mins. 'Valkyrie' was on her weather bow. 'Vigilant's' jibsheet got adrift. The wind was now stronger, and they were getting a head sea, which did not suit 'Vigilant's' beam and bow. This long tack lasted an hour, and at 2.15 'Valkyrie' led by three-eighths of a mile. As they neared the outer mark the time was h. m. s. 'Valkyrie' 2 33 40 'Vigilant' 2 35 35 In the beat to windward of fifteen miles 'Valkyrie' gained 1 min. 55 sec. Spinnakers were now on both, the wind increasing, and at 2.47 'Valkyrie's' biggest balloon jib-topsail went up. 'Vigilant' had some trouble forward with hers, and a hand was smartly sent down the topmast stay before the sail could be sent up in stops. At 2.50 it broke up and revealed that favourite sail in America a balloon jib-topsail, and a rare good puller it is. Some very smart work was now done on board 'Vigilant' on the run. The reef in the mainsail was shaken out by a hand slung from the masthead in the bight of a gaut-line, and hauled along the boom by an outhaul as he cast off the stops. Next a hand was out on the gaff. This led to hoisting the second club topsail over the jibheader left standing to leeward, and just before the club topsail went up she ran through 'Valkyrie's' lee. 'Valkyrie's' white spinnaker burst. It was most smartly taken in, and the light one set. This split before it was belayed, from head to foot, right down, and 'Valkyrie's' chance had now gone. A large jib-topsail was set on her, but was of no use against the sail area of 'Vigilant.' Some ten minutes more and h. m. s. 'Vigilant' finished and won 3 51 39 'Valkyrie' 3 53 52 losing by 40 secs. corrected time. m. s. To windward 'Valkyrie' led by 1 55 To leeward 'Vigilant' led by 4 5 On this day the course was kept very clear. The wind increased at the finish, but the fact that 'Vigilant' carried full mainsail, second club topsail, balloon jib-topsail, and large spinnaker, shows that it was not blowing the gale described by some journalists. After the finish in the lower bay the wind piped up, the sea got up, and all raced hard for home. It was a splendid race, nobly sailed, and both yachts admirably handled. There always must be some luck, but it was most untimely for 'Valkyrie's' spinnakers to burst. The question at once suggests itself, should they not be sent up in stops? 'Valkyrie's' mast was sprung and worse, and that prevented her getting more canvas put on her. When one yacht gains to windward and the other to leeward they must be well matched; in England we consider that windward work should take precedence of running free. For English waters 'Valkyrie' is a most successful and beautiful craft, and for American waters, with light winds and long reaching, 'Vigilant' has proved a great success. Certainly this last race was the grandest ever sailed for the America Cup, and we may be proud of our representative. The 1,200 feet of sail-area in 'Vigilant,' and extra crew, gave her a decided advantage, and the centreboard was supposed to be a gain to windward; but that good sportsman Lord Dunraven is not disheartened in any way, neither is he won over to centreboard yachts. APPENDIX THE 'GIRALDA' It chances that while these volumes were being prepared, a steam yacht of a remarkable character was being built, and it seems desirable to include a few words about this vessel, for the reason that she is, perhaps, the most perfect boat ever constructed for a private gentleman. Reference is made to the magnificent twin-screw steam yacht 'Giralda,' the property of Mr. Harry McCalmont of Cheveley Park, Newmarket. 'Giralda' gives evidence of the perfection to which vessels of this type are now being brought. She is about 1,800 tons yacht measurement, and her principal dimensions are: Length between perpendiculars, 275 feet; breadth moulded, 35 feet; depth moulded, 19 feet. She is built with thirteen water-tight bulkheads of Siemens-Martin's steel to Lloyd's highest class, and so constructed as to be readily converted into a light-armed cruiser or despatch vessel for Admiralty requirements. A notable point will be her speed of twenty knots, to develop which she is fitted with twin-screw machinery and five boilers, three of which are double-ended, and two single-ended, with sixteen furnaces, all adapted for forced draught. The machinery consists of two independent and separate sets of triple-expansion direct-acting surface-condensing engines, one set to each screw propeller, and will indicate with forced draught 6,500 horse-power, or with natural draught 5,000 horse-power. The bunker capacity is 400 tons of coal, and the fresh-water tanks are ample for Admiralty requirements; in addition to which she is fitted with fresh-water condenser capable of producing 1,200 gallons per diem. The yacht is also fitted with large ice-house and refrigerating chamber. One of the special features in the 'Giralda' is that the saloons--consisting of smoking-room, boudoir, or library, spacious dining saloon and drawing-room--are all on the main deck, where there are also situated lavatories for cabins and crew, three galleys, and ample pantry and service spaces. Owner's sleeping accommodation is below, fore and abaft the machinery space, having intercommunication on the main deck through the house. The officers and crew are berthed forward, and the servants' quarters are aft. It is almost unnecessary to add that the cabin accommodation has had the most special attention, both in respect of arrangement and fittings, and the greatest care has been taken throughout for ventilating, heating, and insulation where necessary. A large bridge or shade deck extends along about 160 feet of the vessel, on which, forward, is the bridge, and also the chart and wheel houses. The boats are housed on this deck, and there is steam hoisting gear for steam launch and larger boats. The yacht is lighted throughout by electricity, there being over 200 incandescent lamps. In addition to these, there are fitted two regulation-size search lights, and groups of electric lights for each mast. There are two separate and independent engines and dynamos, connected with large accumulators of sufficient capacity to supply the whole of the lamps for many hours without re-charging. Mr. McCalmont has himself taken the very greatest personal interest in the arrangement of all details, which have been carried out by Messrs. Cox & King, of Suffolk Street, Pall Mall, London, under the direction of Professor Elgar, the designer of the well-known Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering Co., of Govan, Glasgow by whom the yacht is being built. INDEX TO THE SECOND VOLUME Abergele Bay, North Wales, rescue of emigrant ship, 49 Accidents on board yachts, 138 Ackers, G. H., owner of 'Dolphin,' R.Y.S., 1839, 14 Acland, Sir T. D., president of R. Western Y.C., 42; his 'Lady St. Kilda,' 1835, 42 'Ada,' 174 Adams, C. F., Boston Y.C., 275 Adams, G. C., Boston Y.C., 275 'Adda,' Captain Rogers's, 240 'Addie,' American sloop, 254 Adelaide, Australia, 314 Adelaide, Queen, patroness of R. London Y.C., 179 'Adèle,' 174 Admiralty, warrant to members of Cumberland Fleet, 162; to R.T.Y.C., 170, 171 '�olus' (R.N.Y.C. yacht), 78 'Ailsa' (66 tons), 78 Ailsa, Lord, owner of 'Snarley Yow,' 56 Akaroa, N.Z., 299 'Alarm' (193 tons), R.Y.S., winner of Royal Cup in 1830, 1831, 1832, 1838, 12, 13, 326 'Alarm' (225 tons), American schooner, 253 'Alarm' (248 tons), 16, 45 Albemarle Sound (U.S.), 232 Albert Park Yacht Club, Melbourne, 314 'Alberta,' royal yacht, 1863, dimensions, 8; duties, 9 Albertson Brothers, boat-builders, Philadelphia, 253, 256 'Alcyone' (35 tons), cutter, R. Clyde Y. C., 89; crew and terms of hire, 90 'Alexandra' (40 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17 'Alice,' American cat-boat, 252 'Aline' (210 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17 Allan, John, of Glasgow (sec. R.N.Y.C., 1825), 74, 78 'Alouette' (5 tons), 174 'Alpha' (21-footer), 269 'Alpha Beta,' 175 'Alwida' (5-rater), 63 Amateur, an, definition of, 52 'Amathea,' 91 'Ambassadress' (431 tons), 253 'Amberwitch' (52 tons), yawl, 112, 113 America Cup, really R.Y.S. Cup, 14; held by the Americans since 1851, 14; movement against by Scottish yachtsmen, 261; competitions for, from 1870 to 1893, 278; arrangements for 1893, 408; description of that year's contest, 409-423 'America,' Commodore J. C. Stevens's schooner, wins the cup of the R.Y.S. in 1851, 14; (170 tons), beaten by 'Maria' in test matches, 245; design and build, 246, 247; career, 247; influence on the yachting world, 247; lines and midship section, 248 America, North, eastern seaboard of, 228, 235 American yachting, schooners favoured, 252; 46-footer class, 263; 'fin-keel' boat, 267; cat-yawl, 270; measurement and time allowance, 272; duck and sails, 273; cruise of N.Y.Y. Squadron, 276; winter cruising to Florida and the West Indies, 278; steam yachting, 279; open steam launch, 281; in 1893, inaugurated by 'Navahoe,' 400; merits of the 'Defenders,' 406; three races for the America Cup, 410-415 American Yacht Club, formed for steam-yacht owners, 282 'Amethyst' (20 tons), 77 'Amphitrite,' schooner, 1893, in R.T.Y.C. race of June 10, 358 'Amulet' (51 tons), R.Y.S., wins Royal Cup in 1837, 12 Anglesey, Marquis of, 10, 12, 13, 326 'Annasona' (40 tons), 54, 56 Anne, Cape, 229 'Annie,' Anson Livingston's sloop, 253; her success, 254 Ant, river, 192, 202, 206 'Archee' (5-rater), 63 'Ariel' (8 tons), 327, 329 'Ariel' (10 tons), of Beccles, a lateener, 205, 221 'Armada' (7-1/2 tons), 81 Armitage, Dr. W. S., owner of 'Nora,' 98 Armstrong, Claudius, of Dublin (R.N.Y.C., 1824), 74 Arran, 94 'Arrow' (5 tons), 174 'Arrow,' American sloop, 256 'Arrow,' cutter, T. Chamberlayne's, 13 Arundel Yacht Club. _See_ Royal London Yacht Club Ashbrook, Lord, R.Y.S. 1815, 10 Aspinwall, W. H. and J. L., first promoters of steam yachting in America, 280 Astley, Captain, owner of 'Mercury,' 162, 164 Astor, W. W., 284 'Atalanta,' competes for America Cup in 1881, 257, 278 'Atalanta,' Cumberland Fleet, winner of Vauxhall Cup in 1801, 164 Atkins, J., Cork Water Club, 100 Atkinson, Mr., boat-builder, of Bullock, Co. Dublin, 149 'Atlantic,' American sloop, 257 Atlantic Yacht Club, 258 Auckland Yacht Club, 290 Auckland, N.Z., 288, 314 'Aurora Borealis' (252 tons), 16 'Aurora,' Cumberland Fleet, wins the first match of club (1755), 155 Australia, 148; southern coast of, 287; yachting in, 311; clubs at Sydney, 311; the 'Victor,' 312; native woods for yacht-building, 313-315; Hobson's Bay, 313; Royal Yacht Club of Victoria, 314; Albert Park Y.C., Melbourne, 341; Geelong, 314; Royal South Australian Y.S., 314; adoption of Y.R.A. rules, 316 'Australia' (207 tons), wins the race in 1877 from Dover to Boulogne and back, 68 'Aveyron,' 174 Aylsham, 192 'Babe' (2-1/2-rater), 64 Baden-Powell, Mr., owner of the 'Diamond,' 52; of the 'Snarley Yow,' 56 Baden-Powell, Warrington, 180 Bagot, Lieut.-Col., owner of 'Creole,' 67-96 Bailey, the, Dublin Bay, 130, 133 Baillie, J. H., owner of the 'Kate,' 52 Baldwin, John (C.W.C.), 100 Baldwin, Robert (C.W.C.), 100 Banks Peninsula, N.Z., 292, 302 Banshee (4 tons), 82 Barrier Islands, N.Z., 289 Barrow to the Clyde, matches from, 84 Barton Broad, 202, 205, 206 'Bat,' 112, 113 Bay of Islands, N.Z., 289 Bay, St. Augustine, Florida, 233 Bayley, Mr., owner of the 'Euterpe,' 53 Beamish, Caulfield (Cork Water Club), 104 'Beatrix,' American centreboard. _See_ 'Harpoon' Beccles, 192, 205, 221 'Bedouin,' American yacht, 255 Beechy, Admiral, his picture of the 'Enid,' 115 Belfast, Earl of, owner of 'Waterwitch' (1834), 324 Belfast, regatta of R.N.Y.C. at, in 1826, 76; two days' regatta of same in 1836, 76; race for cup of R.N.Y.C., 77 Bell, Captain, of the Thames Conservancy, 183 Bell, James (vice-commodore R. Clyde Y.C.), 91, 92 Bell, W. A., owner of 'Glance,' 98 'Bella' (8 tons), 81 'Belle Lurette,' the Prince of Wales's, 54 Belleville, Canada, 310 'Bellissima,' Captain Farebrother's, wins the Jubilee Cup in 1807, 164 Belmore, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 'Belvidere,' the (25 tons), R.T.Y.C., 1845, Lord Alfred Paget's, 171 Bennett, James G., part owner of 'Priscilla,' 257; owner of 'Dauntless,' 258 Bentall, Mr., builder of 'Jullanar,' 68 Bermuda, international yacht race in 1849, 243; yachting at, 318; clubs, 318; 'fitted races,' 318; dimensions of average 5-tonners, 320; Mr. Ricardo's experience of a 'fitted race,' 320; dinghy racing, 321-323; sailing advantages, 323 Bettsworth, Captain, owner of 'Spitfire,' 1823, 167, 168 Bewicke, J., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 'Bezan Jagt' (1670), Dutch, 3 'Bird of Freedom,' Mr. Popham's, 56 'Black Maria,' of Barton Broad, 205 Blake, G. L., on the Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club, 49 _et seq._; on the Royal Clyde Yacht Club, 79 _et seq._; on Royal Alfred Yacht Club, 108 _et seq._; on yachting in Canada, 309 _et seq._ 'Blanche' (R.Y.S.), 290 Blatchford, Lady Isabella, sells Osborne House to the Queen, 6 Blind Bay, N.Z., 297 'Blue Bell' (25-tonner), 13 'Blue Belle' (5-rater), 63 'Blue Dragon,' Cumberland Fleet, 1787, 162 Bluff, harbour of the, N.Z., 301 Bogle, James, 77 Bolton, Mr. (commodore R.A.Y.C.), 110 Bombay, yachting at, 315; R.B.Y.C. house, 315; yachts, 316; dhows, 316; adoption of Y.R.A. rules, 316; sailing course, 1886, 317 Bon Accord, Kawau, N.Z., 292 Booth, H. Gore, 77 Boston Harbour, 229 Boston Yacht Club, 258 Bourne End, Bucks, 181 Bowness, Windermere Lake, 183, 189 Boyd, Judge, owner of 'Thalia,' 1893, 350 Brassey, Lord, 16, _note_; first rear-commodore of the R.T.Y.C., 1874, 173 Brassey, Lady, 318 'Breeze' (55 tons), 12 'Brenda' (8 tons), 82 'Brenda,' American schooner, beats the 'Pearl' in 1849, 243 Brenton Reef Cup, race for, between 'Britannia' and 'Navahoe,' 390 Breydon Water, 192, 204 Brierley, Sir Oswald, his drawing of the procession of the Royal Yacht Squadron, 16 Brighton, Mr., boat-builder of Yarmouth, his craft for the Norfolk Broads, 210 _et seq._ 'Brilliant' (8 tons), W. Bucknall's, R.T.Y.C., 1830, 169, 327, 329 'Britannia' (220 tons), the Prince of Wales's, 17; match with 'Navahoe' for the Gold Cup of the Royal Victoria Y.C., 43; at the Jubilee Regatta of the R. Mersey Y.C., 1893, 49; in 1893, 349; wins R.T.Y.C. race May 25, 352, 353; in race of May 27, 354-358; wins R.T.Y.C. race of June 10, 258; in match from Dover to Boulogne, 360; in match of Royal Southern of June 17, 362; wins Royal Mersey match on June 24, 363; wins Royal Northern of July 1, 363; in Clyde Corinthian Club match, 364; in the Royal Clyde regatta, 365; in the Royal Ulster Regatta, 366; in the Royal Irish regatta, 368; in Royal London match at Cowes, 370; in R.Y.S. Regatta, 374; wins 'Meteor' challenge shield, 375; in Royal Albert match, August 14, 380; in Torbay regatta, 382; wins Start Bay Club match, 386; beats 'Navahoe' for Royal Victoria Gold Cup, 388; loses Brenton Reef Cup, 390; wins match for Cape May Cup, 393; sail-area in the three matches, 394; best all-round vessel, 394; record for the season, 395; mainsail, 399; intended to defeat 'Navahoe,' 400 British India Steamship Company, 288 'Britomart' (H.M.S. brig), 300 Britten, Commander R.N., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Brocklebank, Captain, owner of 'St. George,' 1823, 167 Bronskill, Mr., of Bowness, 189 Brooklyn Yacht Club, class of yachts, 258 Brown & Bell, boat-builders, New York, 243 Brown, J. F., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Brown, W. H., boat-builder, 246 Brundall, Norfolk, 210 Brunkard, Lord, 3 Brunswick, Georgia, 232 Bryant, Henry, Boston Y.C., 275 Bryant, John, Boston Y.C., 275 Buccleuch, Duke of, Patron of Royal Forth Yacht Club, 96 Buchanan, T. C., 77 Buchanon, Dan (R. Cl. Y.C.), 81 Buckenham, 222 Buckingham, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 Bulkeley, Major, R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Bullen, John (Cork Water Club, 1760), 100 Bullen, Mr., of Oulton Broad, 222; his craft, and their terms of hire, 224 Bullen, Richard (chaplain Cork Water Club, 1720), 100 Bure, river (or North River), 192, 198, 204, 220, 225 Burgess, the coloured skipper of 'Diamond,' 318 Burgess, Edward, American boat-builder, 253; designer of 'Puritan,' 260; 'Mayflower,' 261; the 'Volunteer,' 261; growth of fame, 262; love for natural history, 262; successful yachts, 263; 46-footer class, 263; his death, 266; 'Constellation,' 1889, 274 Burnham on the Crouch, 178 Burroughs's pocket-case for yacht voyages, 139 Butler, General B. F., buys 'America,' 257 'Buttercup' (10 tons), 56, 175 Byng, Admiral, rear-commodore R.P.C.Y.C., 54, 57 Byrne, Captain, his 'Cumberland' wins Jubilee Cup of Cumberland Fleet in 1800, 164 Byrne, St. Clare, designer of 'Valiant' (2,400 tons), 418 Buzzard's Bay, 230 Caicos Reefs, West Indies, 239 'Calluna,' in 1893, 349; in R.T.Y.C. race, May 25, 352, 353; breaks a mast in race of May 27, 355; in R.T.Y.C. race, June 10, 358; race from Dover to Boulogne, 360; in match of Royal Southern, June 17, 362; match of Royal Mersey, June 24, 362; match of Royal Northern, July 1, 363; in Royal Clyde regatta, 365; Royal Ulster regatta, 368; Royal Irish regatta, 368; in Royal London match at Cowes, 370; race for Cowes Town Cup, 376; for R.Y.S. prize, Aug. 4, 377; Royal Southampton match, Aug. 5, 378; Royal Albert match, Aug. 14, 380; Torbay regatta, 382; Royal Dart match, 385; Start Bay Club match, 386; a disappointing boat, 395; record for the season, 396; mainsail, 399; intended to defeat the 'Navahoe,' 400 'Calypso,' 91 'Calypso' (109 tons), American schooner, 252 'Cambria,' 252; competes for America Cup, 278 Camera, the, 226 'Camilla' (2-1/2-rater), 64, 117 Campbell, H. F., 77 Canal of the Dismal Swamp (U.S.), 232 Canfield, A. Cass, designer and owner of 'Sea Fox,' 253; attempts on 'Priscilla,' 257; member of N.Y.Y.C., 275 Canned provisions, 142 Canterbury, New Zealand, 299 Cantley, on the Yare, 204, 213, 221, 222 Cape Maria Van Diemen, 289 Cape May cup, race for, between 'Britannia' and 'Navahoe,' 393 Cape Tribulation, 288 Cape York, Queensland, 288 Capel, Frank C., rear-commodore of R.C.Y.C., Erith, 178 Capes, William, boat-builder, Hoboken, 239; builder of Commodore Stevens's 'Maria,' 243 'Cara' (28-foot boarder), in 'fitted race,' 320 Carolinas, the (U.S.), 232 'Caroline,' Cumberland Flt., 159 Carpets on board yachts, 136, 138 Carrick, J., of Greenock (R.N.Y.C., 1824), 74 Carroll, Royal Phelps, owner of 'Navahoe,' 43; challenges for Victoria Cup and Cape May and Brenton Reef Cups, 350; his programme for 1893, 400, 402 Carter, John, skipper of 'Britannia,' 340, 345, 395 'Castanet,' Mollett's description of Russell Colman's, 215-217 'Castanet' (40-rater), W. R. Cookson's, 67, 352 Castle, E. W. and R., on the Thames Clubs and Windermere, 152 _et seq._ Catamaran introduced by N. G. Herreshoff in 1876, 270 Catwater, Plymouth, 42 Cat-yawls, introduced in 1883, 270; characteristics, 270, 271 Cawdor, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 Cecil, Lord Francis, owner of 'Chittywee,' 55 'Cemiostama,' the, 147 Center, Edward, N.Y.Y.C., 241 Center, Robert, owner and joint designer of 'Vindex,' 256, 258 Centreboard _v._ keel, question of, 261, 414 'Challenge' (20 tons), 56, 119-122 'Challenge,' the (1.1-rater), 183 Channel matches, 84, 94 Charles II., his enthusiasm for yacht-building, 1; wins first yacht race on the Thames, 1; beats Duke of York in a sailing match from Greenwich to Gravesend and back, 2 Charleston, South Carolina, 232 Chesapeake Bay, 232 'Chip' (10 tons), 174 'Chiqueta' (20-rater), 63 'Chittywee' (3 tons), 55, 56, 175 Cholmondeley, Lord Henry, commodore of the Coronation Sailing Society, 1831, 168 Christchurch, New Zealand, 291, 299 Christian, Robert, of Sligo (R.N.Y.C., 1824), 74 'Cigarette' (centreboard lugsail boat), 213 'Cintra,' Upper Thames steam yacht, 182 'Clara' (10 tons), 91; her influence in changing the design of American yachts, 259 Clarence (15 tons), 77 Clarence, Duke of (afterwards William IV.), becomes patron of R.T.Y.C., 169 Clarence Yacht Club, an offshoot of the R.T.Y.C., 169 'Clarita,' American steam yacht, 1864, 280 Clark, John, commodore of R. Clyde Y.C., 92 Clarke, A. D., 70, 176, 349 Clayton, Colonel Fitzroy, commodore of the Upper Thames Sailing Club, 181 Clayton, J. Weston, vice-commodore of the R.C.Y.C., Erith, 178 Clontarf, 148 Club Nautique, Nice, 308 'Clutha' (5 tons), 72, 81 Clyde, the, yachting nursery of the North, 72; development of yachting on, 77; crack yachts in 1835, 77; yachting stations, 77; weather on, 78; match from Barrow to, 84; opening meeting in 1872 of the R.C.Y.C., 85, 86; beauty of Holy Loch, 87; celebration of a 'Clyde week' by the clubs, 87; new courses of the R.C.Y.C., 87, 88; small raters in 1890, 95 Clyde Corinthian Yacht Club match, 1893, 364 Clyde Model Yacht Club. _See_ Royal Clyde Yacht Club Clyde Yacht Club. _See_ Royal Clyde Yacht Club 'Clytie,' American yacht (1865), 250 Coats, J., owner of 'Madge,' 53 Cochrane, Blair, presents a Champion Cup to the R.P.C.Y.C. for 1/2-raters, 64 'Cock-a-Whoop' (2-1/2-rater), 63, 177 Coffin, Captain, owner of 'Caroline,' 159 Collingwood (N.Z.), 298 Colman, Russell, his 'Castanet,' 215 'Colonia,' 1893, 400; characteristics, 401; dimensions, 402; unsatisfactory boom, 403; in first regatta of the N.Y.Y.C. cruise of 1893, 404; for Goelet Cups, 404 Coltishall, 192 'Columbia' (206 tons), American schooner, 253, 258, 278 'Columbine' (90 tons), winner of Royal Cup in 1835, 12 'Columbine' (50-rater), 67; (1893), 352 'Comet' (5 tons), 81 'Coming,' American sloop (1868), 254 Commerell, Admiral Sir E., 318 'Condor' (190 tons), 88 Condy, Mr., of Plymouth, his pictures of 'Esmeralda,' 13; and of the match between 'Corsair' and 'Talisman,' 326 Connaught, Duke of, 68, 181 Connor, George, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Consort, Prince, lays foundation stone of Royal Victoria Yacht Club house, Ryde, March 1846, 43 'Constellation,' N.Y.Y.C., 1889, 274 'Consuelo,' American cat-yawl, characteristics, 270 Conyngham, Marquis, transfers lease of Cowes Castle to R.Y.S., 10 Cook, Captain, 288 Cook's Strait, New Zealand, 288, 296, 297, 302 Cooks, yacht-sailor, 145 Cookson, W. R., owner of 'Castanet,' 67 Cool, David, boat-builder, City Island (U.S.), 255 Cooper, W. (R.A.Y.C.), 108 'Coquette' (1/2-rater), 64, 68 'Coquette,' American schooner, 243 'Coralie' (35 tons), 85 'Corinne' (260 tons), 68, 69 Corinthian matches of R.A.Y.C., 118; of R. Clyde Y.C., 82, 84 Cork Water Club established, 5 Cork Yacht Club. _See_ Royal Cork Yacht Club 'Cornelia' (94 tons), 242, 243 'Corona' (10-rater), 175, 212, 213 Coronation Sailing Society, origin of, 166; dissolved, 168 Corry, Thomas Charles Stewart (R.N.Y.C., 1824), 74 'Corsair,' Admiral Montagu's, 17, 333-342, 346, 350 'Corsair' (80 tons, 1832), 326; midship section and lines, 328; (40-rater), 329, 330 Cory, W., his 'Buttercup,' 175 'Cosette' (2-1/2-rater), 63 'Countess Dufferin,' 256, 278 Courtney, A. W., his 'Naiad,' 55 Cove of Cork, 7 Cowes, 332 Cowes Castle, club-house of R.Y.S., 9 Cox, Miss Mabel, owner of 'Kismet,' 68 Cox and King, Messrs., 426 'Craigielee,' 313 Craigmore, 78 Crampton, Mr., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Cranfield, skipper of 'Valkyrie' in America Cup races of 1893, 420 Craven, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 Crawford, Colonel, owner of 'Red Lancer,' 330 'Creole' (40-rater), 67, 71, 96, 352 Crooks, J., 77 'Cuckoo,' 90, 119 'Cumberland,' Commodore Taylor's, 157, 158; wins Duke of Cumberland's Cup in 1781, 159; the second, lines of, 160; Captain Byrne's, wins Jubilee Cup of Cumberland Fleet in 1800, 164 Cumberland Fleet, founded in 1775, 152, 154; button, 155; ceremonies of early races, 155; ensign, 156; first courses, 157; first private match, 157; first below-bridge match, 159; the Vauxhall Cup, 161; second prize, 162; circular of Fleet in 1775, 163; dissensions, 165; race in honour of coronation of George IV., 165; change of name and flag, 166; match of 1823, 166 Cumberland Gardens, 1791, 157, 162; proprietor presents a cup to Cumberland Fleet in 1796, 164 Cumberland, Henry Frederick, Duke of, gives a cup in 1775 for sailing boats on the Thames, 154, 155, 156; his gifts to Cumberland Fleet, 159 Currie, Sir Donald, commodore Royal Forth Y.C., 96 'Currytush' (3-tonner), 123, 175 Curtis, Sir W., R.Y.S., 1815, 10 'Curtsey' (30 feet), 60 Cushing, John P., his 'Sylph,' 238 Custance, H. Neville, hon. treas. of R.C.Y.C., Erith, 178 'Cyclone,' 175 'Cygnet' (25 tons), R.T.Y.C., 1843, 13 'Cygnet' (35 tons), 45, 49, 171, 172 'Cygnet,' American yacht, 240, 242, 243 'Cyprus' (5 tons), 60 'Cythera' (116 tons), cutter, 88 'Czarina,' steam yacht, 1877, 16 'Dacia' (5-rater), 1893, 351 'Dagmar' (36 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17 'Daisy' (19 tons), 327 Dalkey Bray, 148 'Daphne' (25 feet), 57 Dartmouth, 346 'Dauntless' (268 tons), American schooner, 252, 258 Davey, J. M., owner of 'Don Giovanni,' R.T.Y.C. 1824, 168 Davies, G. Christopher, on yachting on Norfolk Broads, 190 _et seq._ 'Day Dream,' American steam 'Day Dream' (89-rater), yawl, 96; yacht, 280, 281 'Dawn,' yawl, 82 De Blaquiere, Lord, purchases the 'America,' 247 'Decima' (10-rater), 63, 175 Deerhurst, Lord, R.Y.S. 1815, 10 'Deirdré' (20-rater), 67, 350, 351, 397, 398 Delaware Bay, 232 Delaware River, 232 'Delvin' (5-tonner), 123 Denman, captain of 'Victoria and Albert,' 1855, 8 Depaw, Louis A., N.Y.Y.C., 240; his 'Mist,' 240 Devonshere, Abraham, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Devonshere, James, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Dexter, Gordon, Boston Yacht Club, 275 Dhows, at Bombay, 316 'Diamond' (5 tons), 52 'Diamond' (Bermuda), in a 'fitted race,' 318, 322 Diaper, Tom, 345 Dickenson, W. V., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Dickie, Mr., his 'Armada,' 81 'Dilemma,' the first fin-keel yacht, 268 Dinghy Club, Bermuda, 318; racing at St. George's, 321-323; kind of craft, 321-323 'Dione,' 174 'Dis' (10-rater), 63, 175, 176, 348 'Diskos' (21-footer), 177 'Diver' (1809), John C. Stevens's, 237 'Dolphin' (217 tons), 13, 14 'Dolphin' (2-1/2-rater), 64 'Don Giovanni,' R.T.Y.C., 1824, 168; song on, 169 Donald, E. F. (sec. R.N.Y.A.), 78 Donaldson, Peter, owner of 'Calluna,' 361 Donegall, Marquis of (first president R.N.Y.C.), 75 'Donna del Lago' (9 tons), 327 'Dora' (10-rater), 1893, 351 Dore, Captain, Cumberland Fleet, 162 'Doreen' (1892), 336, 350 'Doris,' 63, 123 'Dorothy' (21-footer), 177 'Double Trouble,' John C. Stevens's, 237 Doughty, Mr., on Friesland meres in a Norfolk wherry, 194-196 Douglas, Commodore, 257, 258 Doyle, Mr., boat-builder, of Kingstown, 149 'Dragon' (20-rater), 63, 67, 350, 397 'Dragons' of the 20's, 345 Drake, Francis, 1, 39 Drake's Island, 40 'Dream' (66 tons), 77 'Dream,' George L. Schuyler's, 238, 240, 242 Drury, James, his description of No. 1 Corinthian match, R.A.Y.C., 119 _et seq._ 'Dryad,' yawl, 174 Dublin Bay, 130, 133, 136, 137, 144 Dublin Bay Sailing Club, 18, 148 'Duchess' (3-tonner), 123 Dudley, Lord, his 'Vigorna,' 351 Dudgeon, Henry, R.A.Y.C., 119 'Dudu,' 174 Dufferin, Lord, his description of single-handed boat-sailing, 20; his 'Lady Hermione,' 25-39; 'Foam,' 38; Commodore of R. Ulster Y.C., 108; impetus given by him to maritime affairs when gov.-gen. of Canada, 310 Duncan (of 'Madge' fame), 330 Dunedin, N.Z., 310 Dunleary (now Kingstown), 106 Dunleath, Lord (formerly H. L. Mulholland), his 'Egeria,' 16; vice-commodore of R. St. George's Y.C., 106; R. Ulster Y.C., 108; his 'Savourna,' 330 Dunne, Mr. (R.A.Y.C.), 120 Dunoon, 77 Dunraven, Lord, his 'Valkyrie' at Nice, 306; effect on big-cutter racing of his commission for a second, 349; challenges for America Cup, 350; his 'Deirdré,' 350; America Cup challenge adjusted, 400; 'Valkyrie' to remain in U.S. till 1894, 413; notices effect on pressure of dryness of wind, 419; adverse to centreboards, 423 Dunscombe, Richard (Cork Water Club), 100 Dutch yacht of 1640, illustration, 2 'Eagle,' in match with 'Caroline,' 159 Earth closets on yachts, 138 East River, 231 Eastern Yacht Club, Boston, 259 'Echo' (2-1/2 tons), 82 'Echo' (37 tons), yawl, 112, 113 'Eclipse,' in match with 'Cumberland' 1793, 162 'Eclipse' (30 feet), 57 Edgar, Daniel, owner of American sloop 'Arrow,' 256 Edgar, William, N.Y.Y.C., 240, 242 Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard Island (U.S.), 277 Edinburgh, Duke of (patron of R.A.Y.C.), 111; becomes commodore, 115 'Egeria,' schooner, 16, 115, 119 'Elaine' (10 tons), 174 'Elf' (2-1/2-rater), 67 'Elfin' (paddle steam yacht), H.M.'s, 7, 9 Elgar, Professor, yacht designer, 426 Elizabeth Islands, 230 Elizabeth, Queen, 1 'Elma,' service boat, 59; capsized off the Nab, 61 Elsworth, Philip, yacht designer, 253, 257 'Emma' (15 tons), 77 'Emmetje, De' (103 tons), 15 'Enchantress,' Admiralty boat, 9 'Enchantress,' Amer. schooner, 249, 253 'Enid' (57 tons), 85 'Enriqueta' (20 tons), her matches with the 'Quickstep,' 58, 59 Eresby, Lord Willoughby De, R.Y.S., 1859, 15, 16 Erie Canal, 284 Erith, the Thames at, 178 'Eros' (850 tons) st. yacht, 308 'Esmeralda,' R.Y.S., 13, 14 'Esmeralda,' cutter, tender to 'Royal George,' 6 'Ethel' (10-rater), 63 'Euterpe' (20 tons), 53 'Eva' (10-rater), 176, 177 'Eva' (21-footer), 177 'Eva' (81 tons), American schooner, 249, 252 'Excellent,' H.M.S., 59 Extracts of meat, 143 Eyton, Wynne, part owner of 'Mascotte,' 55 'Fair Geraldine' (5-rater), 63 Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering Co., Govan, Glasgow, builders of 'Giralda,' 426 'Fairy,' H.M. s.s. yacht, 6 'Fairy' (13 tons), 327 'Fairy Queen' (8 tons), 81 'Falcon' (15 tons), 77 'Falcon' (351 tons), R.Y.S., 1835, 12 Falconer, T. (R. Clyde Y.C.), 81 Famous races, 324; match in 1771, 324; match between 'Waterwitch' and 'Galatea,' in 1834, 324; in 1842 between 'Corsair' and 'Talisman,' 326; between 'Arrow' and 'Mosquito,' 326; match on the Thames in 1830, 327; match at Largs regatta, in 1892, 329 'Fancy' (21-footer), 177 'Fanny' (90 tons), American sloop, dimensions, 256 'Fantan' (10-rater), 63, 175 Farebrother, Captain, Cumberland Fleet, his 'Bellissima' wins Jubilee Cup in 1807, 164 Farne Islands, 96 'Faugh-a-Ballagh' (2-1/2-rater), 68 'Faustine,' American schooner, 250 'Favourite,' st. packet, 1823, 165 Fay & Co., Messrs., 70, 349 Fenwick, Bruce (hon. sec. R.F.Y.C.), 96 Ferguson, Richard (R. Clyde Y. C.), 79, 81 Fergusson, Sir James (formerly governor of N.Z.), 290 Fernie, Mrs. Robertson, 66 'Field,' the (March 20, 1880), on Norfolk wherries, 194; (Jan. 10, 1891) on the Norfolk 'Gossip,' 214 Fife, Mr., of Fairlie, on Captain John Nichols, 46; his old clippers 'Neptune' and 'Fiona,' 60; 'Kilmeny' and 'Torch,' 84; sends a 46 footer to the yachting lists in 1891, 263 Fife, W., jun., designer of 'Ulidia,' 56, 57; supports Australian yachting, 312; his 'Thalia,' 338; designer of the 'Calluna,' 350 Fife, Messrs., of Fairlie, their status as Clyde yacht-builders, 72; their cutter 'Lamlash,' 77; Thames 21-foot class, 176 Fin-keel boats, N. G. Herreshoff's, 267; objections to, 269 Finlay, Alex., his 'Leda,' 81 Finlay, J. Beekman, part owner of 'America,' 247 'Fiona,' 60, 83, 84, 119 'Firefly,' 280 Firth of Thames (N.Z.), 289, 290, 294 Fish, 'Bob,' yacht designer and builder, 247; 'tuning up' racing yachts, 249; best-known yachts, 249; sloops 'Annie,' 253; 'Coming,' 254; and 'Vixen,' 256 Fish, Latham A., N.Y.Y.C., 275 Fish, Robert and Isaac, yacht-builders, New York, 247 Fishing on the Norfolk Broads, 226 'Fitted races,' 318-321 FitzClarence, Lord Adolphus, captain of 'Royal George,' 6 Fitzgerald, Lord Otho, 110 Fitzhardinge, Earl, gives a cup in 1845 to the R.T.Y.C., 171 Fitzharris, Lord, R.Y.S., 10 Fitzsimons, Walter, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Fitz-Wygram, Major-General Sir F., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Fleet sailing, 109 'Fleetwing' (206 tons), 252 Flemmich, Mr., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 'Fleur-de-Lis' (5-rater), 351 'Fleur de Lys' (92 tons), American schooner, 252 'Florence' (10 tons), 174, 175 Florida, 233 'Florinda' (138 tons), 68, 69 'Foam,' R.Y.S., 1856, 38 Foley, Miss, owner of 'Wren,' 52 Foley, Rear-Admiral the Hon. F. A. C., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Food for yachting, 139 Forbes, Com. J. Mal., Boston Y.C., 275 Forbes, R. B., 238 Forbes family (Maine, U.S.), 230 'Foreign' boats in Norfolk waters, 217, 218 'Formosa' (104 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17, 88 Forrest & Son, Wivenhoe, builders of 'The Lady Hermione,' 26; their model of her hull, 39 Fortress stove, 140 Forty-rater, a, racing in, in 1892, 352 _et seq._ Foster, A., jun., N.Y.Y.C., 242 Foster, C. H. W., Boston Y.C., 275 Foveaux Strait (N.Z.), 301 Fox, Captain H. C., R.C.Y.C., Erith, 177 'Foxhound' (35 tons), 62 France, yachting in, 304; Havre, 304, 306; Société des Régates, 306; Union des Yachts Français, 306; Club Nautique, Nice, 308 'Francis' (3-1/2 tons), 81 'Francisca,' steam yacht, 308 'Freda' (5 tons), 174 'Freda' (20 tons), 53, 56 Freke, Mr., owner of the 'Freda,' 53 French, Mr. (Cork Water Club), 104 French, Pascoe, owner of 'Sheilah,' 119, 120, 121 'Friesland Meres in a Norfolk Wherry,' Doughty's, 194 Froude, Mr., his 'Oceana,' 292 Fullerton, Admiral, 9 Fulton, Mr. (R.A.Y.C.), 82, 118 Fundy, Bay of, 229 Fungoid growths in yachts, 138 'Gadfly,' 54 'Galatea,' Lieut. W. Henn's, 257; beaten by 'Mayflower' in race for America Cup, 1886, 261; dimensions, 278 'Galatea' (179 tons), schooner, 1834, 325 Gamble, Col., C.B., commodore of R.M.Y.C., 49 'Gardenia,' 175 Gardiner, William, designer of 'Lyris' (1891), 263, 275 'Gareth' (2-1/2-rater), 68, 351 Garrett, Captain, R.A., 1st vice-com. R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 54 Garroch Head, Clyde, 75, 86 Garth, T. C., owner of 'Hyacinth,' 67 'Gavotte' (2-1/2-rater), 68 Geelong, yachting at, 314 'Gem,' 91 'Genesta,' Sir Richard Sutton's, 58; wins 1000-guinea prize of R.T.Y.C. in 1887, 173, 257, 260, 278, 337 'Genie' (21-footer), 477 George III., his yacht, 5 George IV., establishes Kingstown Harbour, 106; Cumberland Fleet race on his coronation, 165 German Emperor William II., R.Y.S., sails his 'Meteor' (late 'Thistle') for the Queen's Cup in 1891, 17, 91; stimulus given to yachting in Germany by him, 308 Germany, yachting in, 309 'Gertrude,' American sloop (1852), 249 'G.G.' (2-1/2-rater), 64 'Ghost' (20-rater), 63 Gibson, J., R. Clyde Y.C., 79 Gilchrist, James, R. Clyde Y.C., 79, 81 Gilman, Mr., R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 64 'Gimcrack,' John C. Stevens's, 239, 240, 242, 243 'Giralda' (1,800 tons), 425, 426 Gladstone, Captain James, hon. sec. R.M.Y.C., 49 'Gladys,' 216 'Glance' (35 tons), R. Clyde Y.C., 83, 85 'Glance' (3.7-rater), R. Forth Y.C., 98 'Glasgow Herald' quoted, 79 Glasgow, Lord, R. Cl. R.C., 92 'Gleam,' American cat-boat, 252 'Gleam' (Fife of Fairlie's), 77; lines and midship section, 78 Glennie, A. H., rear-commodore R.P.C.Y.C., 64, 66 'Glide' (14 tons), 82 'Gloriana,' characteristics of, 264-266; successes, 266-268 'Glycera' (5-rater), 63 'Gnome' (25-tonner), R.T.Y.C., 1843, 13 Gomes, skipper of the 'Meteor' in the Wemyss Bay regatta of July 8, 1892, 331 Gordon, Robert F., R.N.Y.C., 1824, 74 'Gossip,' 213, 214 'Gossoon,' American cutter, 263, 264 Goteborg, Sweden, 309 Gould, Jay, 284 Gould, skipper of 'Varuna,' 330 Gourock, 77 Governor's Bay, Lyttelton, N.Z., 299 Governor's Pass, Great Barrier Island, N.Z., 293 'Gracie,' American yacht (1868), sail-plan, 254; dimensions, 255; lines and mid-section, 255; beats 'Pocahontas,' 257 Graham, Sir B. R., Bart., owner of 'Harriet,' R.W.Y.C., 42 Grant, Mr., jun., his 'Fairy Queen,' 81 Grant, R., sec. R.Y.S., 391 Grant, C. P., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Grantham, Lord, R.Y.S., 10 Granton Yacht Club. _See_ Royal Forth Yacht Club 'Graphic cruisers' of Dublin Bay, 124; notes by the Hon. Skipper, 124 _et seq._; preliminaries of a cruise, 125; the crew, 125, 126; description of the 'Iris,' 126-129, 133, 134; at Ireland's Eye, 129; the Sketching Club at work, 130, 132; craft making for Howth harbour, 131; the 'Tramcar' distances 'Charlie,' 133; sanitary and medical precautions, 136 _et seq._; the Steward's duties, 140 _et seq._ 'Grayling' (136 tons), 253 Great Barrier Reef, Australia, 288 Greenock, 77 Gretton, John, jun., his 'Lais,' 350 Grey, Sir George, his island of Kawau, N.Z., 292 'Greyhound' (4-tonner), 210; lines, 211; dimensions, 212 Greymouth, N.Z., 298 Greystones, 148 Grinwood, Dr., first commodore of the R.M.Y.C., 46 Grubb, Captain, owner of 'Eagle,' 159 Gubbins, Mr., owner of 'Windfall,' 330 Guébriant, Comte Alain de, 306 Gulf Coast, 233 Gunston, Captain, owner of 'St. George,' 161, 164 'Gwendolin' (197 tons), 119 Haddiscoe Cut, 204, 205, 222 'Halcyon' (121 tons), American schooner, 252 Haldane, Capt., R.P.C.Y.C., 66 Halifax, Canada, 309, 311 Hall, John, of Yarmouth, owner of 'Greyhound,' 210 Halliday, Mr., his 'Helen,' 91 Hallowes, Admiral, R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 64, 68 Hamilton, Bermuda, 318 Hamilton, Canada, 310 Hamilton, James, of Holmhead (R.N.Y.C. 1826), 76, 247 Hamoaze, the, 40 Hampton Roads (U.S.), 232 Harborough, Lord, owner of the 'De Emmetje,' 1827, 15 Harlan Hollingsworth Co., boat-builders, Wilmington, Delaware, 257 'Harpoon,' American cutter, 263, 267 'Harriet' (65 tons), R.Y.S., 1834, 12 'Harriet' (96 tons), R.W.Y.C., 1835, 42 Harrington, William, Cork Water Club, 104 Harrison, commodore R.T.Y.C., 1838, 170 Hart, Robert, R. Clyde Y.C., 81 Hart & Son, of Thorpe, boat-letters, 222 Harvey, builder of 'Sea Belle' and 'Miranda,' 68 Harwich, 218 'Haswell,' American yacht, 249 Hatcher, Dan, boat-builder, 89, 113 Hatteras, Cape, 245 Hatteras Inlet (U.S.), 232 Haulbowline, Ireland, 99, 106 Hauraki Gulf, N.Z., 289, 294 Havelock, N.Z., 297 Havre, as a yachting centre, 304; chart of regatta course, 305; Société des Régates, 306 'Hawk,' American cutter, 263 'Hawke,' Cumberland Fleet, chased into Calais by an American privateer, 159 Hayes, Capt. R.N., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Hays, William, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 'Haze' (21-footer), 177 'Heathen Chinee' (2-1/2-rater), 63 'Hebe,' R.M.Y.C., 1845, 47 Heigham Sounds, 204 'Helen' (17 tons), loss of, 91 Helensburgh, 77; races of the R. Clyde Y.C. at, in 1857, 81 Henderson, Messrs., of Partick, builders of 'Valkyrie' and 'Britannia,' 349, 402 Heneage, G. W., owner of 'Harriet,' R.Y.S., 1834, 12 Henn, Lieut. W., his 'Galatea,' 308 Henry, Prince, of Prussia, his interest in yachting, 17; 'Irene,' 309, 340 'Heroine' (60-ton), cutter, 117 Heron, Maxwell, R.P.C.Y.C., 59 Herreshoff, Lewis, on yachting in America, 227 _et seq._; on the American yachting season of 1893, 400 _et seq._ Herreshoff, N. G., designs and builds the 'Shadow,' 250; cat-boat 'Gleam,' 252; returns to sail-yacht designing, 263; designs 'Gloriana,' 264; the 'Wasp,' 266; 'fin-keel' boat, 267; cat-yawl, 270; catamaran, 270; 'Navahoe,' 'Colonia,' and 'Vigilant,' 402 Herreshoffs, Messrs., boat-builders, Bristol, Rhode Island, 249, 285, 350, 400, 401 Herrings, Dublin Bay, 144 Hewett, Robert, commodore R.C.Y.C., Erith, 178 Hewitt, Thomas, Cork Water Club, 104 Hickling Broad, 203-205, 222, 225 'Hildegarde' (205 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17 Hill, F. C., his 'Dragon,' 350 Hilliard, J. B., R. Clyde Y.C., 93 'Himalaya,' troopship, 9 'Hinda' (18 tons), 119-122 Hippesley, Sir J., R.Y.S. 1815, 10 Hoad, builder of 'Phantom,' 68 Hoare, Samuel, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Hoboken (U.S.), 236 Hobson, Captain, secures the South Island, N.Z., in 1840, for the British, 299 Hobson's Bay, Australia, 313 Hodder, William, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Hoe, the, Plymouth, 39 Hogarth, A., skipper of 'Calluna,' 396 Hokianga River (N.Z.), 296 Holditch, Captain H., sec. R.W.Y.C., 43 Holdsworth, Tom, vice-commodore R. Clyde Y.C., 79 Holy Loch, 87, 91 Honduras, 245 Hong Kong, 148, 315 Horn, H., on yacht racing in 1893, 349 _et seq._ Horning Ferry, 199, 201, 225 Horsey Mere, 203, 204, 225 Hossack, N. P., N.Y.Y.C., 241 Houldsworth, J., owner of 'Lufra,' 68 Houseboats, sailing, 195 Hoveton Broads, 199 Howard, J. T., designer, 176 Howth, 126, 129, 130, 134, 148 Hudson River, 231, 236 Huggins, W., marine painter, his picture of the leading craft of the R.Y.S. of 1835, 12 Hughes, W. W., owner of 'Australia,' 68, 69 'Humming Bird' (2-1/2-rater), 63 Hunter, Mr., of Hafton, 85 Hunter's Quay, club-house of R. Clyde Y.C. at, 85 'Hunt's Yachting Magazine' on the 'Victor,' 312 'Hyacinth' (50-rater), 62, 67 Hyatt, J., owner of 'Matchless,' R.T.Y.C., 1830, 169 'Ianthe,' Amer. schooner, 250 'Ianthe,' Norfolk barge, 197, 224 'Ida' (12-rater), cutter, 98 'Idalia' (20-rater), 351 'Idler' (133 tons), American schooner, 252 'Ildegonda,' 174, 175 Imperial German Yacht Club, 309 Inchiquin, Lord, Cork Water Club, 100, 106 'Industry,' steamer, 72 Inglis, I. A., owner of 'Darthula,' 95; 'Thalia,' 340, 345 Inglis, J. and A., Glasgow, builders of 'Calluna,' 350 Inman, Mr., builder of 'Australia,' 68 'Intrepid,' American yacht, 253, 258 'Iolanthe,' 98 Ireland's Eye, 129, 130 'Irene' (40-rater), Prince Henry of Prussia's, 91, 309, 340 'Irene,' Trinity yacht, 9 'Irex,' 58, 337, 338 'Iris,' the, description of, 126-129, 133, 134; alias the 'Tramcar,' 133; typical sanitation of, 136 _et seq._; the hon. steward's duties on board, 140 _et seq._ Irish Model Yacht Club. _See_ Royal Alfred Yacht Club Irish Yacht Clubs:--Royal York, 99-106; clubs at Kingstown, 106-108; Royal Alfred, 108-124; 'Graphic' Cruisers of Dublin Bay, 124-145; Water Wags and Mermaids, 146-151 'Iroquois,' American yacht, 258 'Iverna,' cutter, 49, 63, 71; her match with the 'Meteor,' 331; in R.S.Y.C. race of August 6, 1893, 340, 341; R.T.Y.C. race, May 25, 1893, 352, 353; wins race of May 27, 354-358; her lines, 355; in R.T.Y.C. race, June 10, 358; race from Dover to Boulogne, 360; matches of Royal Southern, June 17, 362; Royal Mersey, June 24, 362; Royal Northern, July 1, 363; Hunter's Quay, July 5, 364; Clyde Corinthian Club, 364; Royal Clyde regatta, 365; Royal London match at Cowes, 370 Jameson, John, designer of 'Iverna,' 350 Jameson, W. G., 331, 335, 337, 364, 365, 388 'Janetta' (2-1/2-rater), 64 Jay, John C, N.Y.Y.C., 240; his 'La Coquille,' 240 Jerome, Leonard W., owner of 'Clarita,' 1864, 280 Jessop, W., owner of 'Florinda,' 68 Johnson, C., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 'Josephine' (143 tons), American schooner, 252 'Jubilee,' American yacht, 1893, 400; dimensions, 402; characteristics, 403; in the race for the Goelet Cups, 404 'Julia,' J. M. Waterbury's sloop, 245, 246; midship section, 253 'Juliet' (10 tons), 174 'Jullanar' (yawl), 68, 69, 88 Kaikoura (N.Z.), 299 Kaipara harbour (N.Z.), 296 'Kate' (20 feet), 56 Kauri timber for yachts, 296, 314 Kawau, island of (N.Z.), 292 Keen, Captain George, Cumberland Fleet, 1823, 166 'Keepsake' (30 feet), 57 Kelly, Mr., owner of 'Viola,' 53 'Kelpie,' American yacht, 250 'Kelpie' (1-rater), 64 Kemp, Dixon, 176, 180 Kennedy, A., R. Clyde Y.C., 79 Kennedy, Captain R., hon. Sec. R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 51 Kennedy, John, R.N.Y.C., 74 Kennedy, R., R.N.Y.C., 74 Kennedy, W., R. Clyde Y.C., 79 Kent, Duchess of, patroness of R.W.Y.C., 1833, 42 Kerr, James, 77 'Kestrel,' schooner, 1835, 13 Kiel, yachting at, 309 'Kilmeny' (30 tons), 82, 84, 112-114 King, Samuel, R.C.Y.C., 88 'King's Fisher,' Commodore Taylor's, drawing of, 151; lines, 153, 154 Kingsale, Lord, C.W.C., 102 Kingston, Canada, 310 Kingstown (Dublin Co.), clubs at, 106, 107, 146 Kirby, David, boat-builder, Rye, New York, 253-257 Kirkwall, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 'Kismet' (2-1/2-rater), wins Fernie Cup of R.P.C.Y.C., 68 'Kitten,' Upper Thames Sailing Club, 183 'Kittiwake' (1/2-rater), wins the Champion Cup of R.P.C.Y.C. in 1891, 64 'La Coquille' (27 tons), 240, 242, 243 Ladies on board yachts, 139 'Lady Hermione,' Lord Dufferin's, 20, 25; rig and dimensions, plan, sail and fittings, 26-38 'Lady Louisa' (13 tons), R.T.Y.C., 1827, 169, 327 'Lady St. Kilda,' 1835, Sir T. D. Acland's, 42 Lagé, Contre-Amiral Baron, President of Union des Yachts Français, 306 Laight, W. E., N.Y.Y.C., 242 'Lais' (40-rater), 350; in race from Dover to Boulogne, 360; record for the season, 397 Laity, Mr., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Lake Lothing, 205, 220 Lake Ontario, Canada, 309, 310 Lambton, H., M.P., owner of 'Cygnet,' R.Y.T.C. 1851, 171 'Lamlash' (cutter), 77 Lamont, H., rear-commodore R. Clyde Y.C., 92 Lampson, G. C., owner of 'Miranda,' 68 'Lancashire Witch,' steam yacht, 1878, 17 'Lancet' (20 tons), 242 Lang, Oliver, designer of H.M.'s 'Elfin' and 'Victoria and Albert,' 7 Langtry, R., R.N.Y.C., 1824, 74 Lapthorn, Messrs., 128, 149, 274, 398 Largs, 77, 81; regatta, racing in 1892, 329 Lateeners, 205, 315 'Latona' (yawl), wins race from Dover to Boulogne and back in 1880, 69; 119 Lavallin, Philip, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Lavand, Captain, 300 Lawley Corporation, Boston, builders of 'Jubilee,' 402 Leach, Sir George, on America Cup races of 1893, 416 _et seq._ 'Leander' (20 tons), 62 'Leda' (6 tons), R. Cl. Y.C., 81 'Leda,' R.M.Y.C., 1845, 47 Lee-on-Solent, 60 Lenon, Major, his 'L'Erie,' 174 'Lenore,' 91 'Leopard,' steam launch, Upper Thames Sailing Club, 182, 183 'L'Erie' (10 tons), 174 'Lesbia' (37 tons), cutter, 82 'Lethe' (yawl), 71 Liffey estuary, the, 136 'Lil' (25 feet), 57 'Lily' (3-1/2 tons), 82 'Lily' (10 tons), 62, 174 Little Barrier Island (N.Z.), 292 Littledale, com. R.M.Y.C., 47, 49 Liverpool, yachting at, 47 Livingston, Anson, owner of 'Annie,' 253 'Livonia' (280 tons), 85, 252, 278 Llangattock, Lord, 13 Lockett, J. A., rear-commodore R. Clyde Y.C., 83 London Sailing Club, Hammersmith, 180 Long Island Sound, 231, 236 Longfield, Richard, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Loper, R. T., owner of 'Ocean Wave,' 280 'Lorna,' 337 Los Angeles Yacht Club, 234 Louise, Princess, Lady Patroness of Bermuda Dinghy Club, 318 'Louise' (20 tons), 53, 91 Louisiana, 233 Loutherburg, artist, his drawing of Cowes Castle, 10 Lowestoft, 205, 220, 221 Loynes, Mr., of Wroxham, 197, 212, 222, 224 'Luath' (5-tonner), 123 'Lucanias,' 72 'Lufra,' yawl, 68, 69, 88 Lyall, R., his 'Maria,' 81 Lyle, James A., hon. sec. R.A.Y.C., 88, 109; his prize for a one-handed race, 114 Lyons, James, owner of the 'Breeze,' R.Y.S., 1836, 12 'Lyris,' designed by W. Gardiner (1891), 263 Lysaght, Major, 106 Lyttelton (N.Z.), 298, 299, 301 'Mabel,' late 'Irex' (100-rater), 67, 352, 360 McAllister, Mr., Dumbarton, 149 McCalmont, Harry, owner of 'Giralda,' 425, 426 Macartney, Mr., R.A.Y.C., 118 McCheane, Charles, hon. sec. R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 52, 55, 56 McCheane, T., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 McCracken, Henry J. (R.N.Y.C. 1824), 74 McFerran, James, his description of 'The Lady Hermione,' 20, 25 _et seq._ Macgregor, 'Rob Roy,' 28 McIver, Mr., his 'Brenda,' 82 MacIvor, D., owner of 'Sunshine,' 119 Macleay, A. D., owner of 'Jullanar,' 68 'Macnab' (21-footer), 177 'Madcap' (2-1/2-rater), 63 'Madcap' (20 tons), 116 'Madeleine' (148 tons), American schooner, 252, 256, 278 'Madge' (10 tons), 53 'Madge,' influence of, on American yacht design, 259 'Maggie' (15 tons), 53, 89, 91 'Maggie' (132 tons), American schooner, 252 'Magic' (97 tons), American schooner, 252; midship section, 253; dimensions, 278 'Magnolia' (21-footer), 177 'Maharanee' (10 tons), 175 'Maida' (10-rater), 1893, 351 Main, John, R.P.C.Y.C., 66 Maine (U.S.), 228 Malahide, 148 'Mallory,' American yacht (1858), 249, 253 Mallory, D. D., yacht designer, Noank, Connecticut, 249, 253 Malta, 315 'March Hare' (21-footer), 177 'Maria' (5 tons), R. Lyall's, 81 'Maria,' Commodore Stevens's sloop, N.Y.Y.C., 240; dimensions, 242; characteristics, 243; matches with the 'America,' 245; lost off Cape Hatteras, 245 'Mannersing,' 253 'Mantura' (24-footer), 313 'Marguerite,' 263 'Maritana' (14 tons), 291 'Mascotte,' 291 'Matchless,' 327 Maxwell, J. R., 275 'May,' 418, 420 'Mayflower,' 257, 261, 263 'Mehalah' (21-footer), 177 'Meneen,' 68, 351 'Mercury,' 162, 164, 165 'Merle' (10 tons), 174 Mermaids of Dublin Bay, 108, 149 'Meteor,' German Emperor's yacht, 17, 91, 329, 331, 374 'Mildred' (10 tons), 174 'Mima' (10 tons), 291 'Mimmie' (3 tons), 123 'Mimosa,' 175 'Mina,' 258 'Mineola,' 266 'Minerva,' 262, 263 'Minna,' 240 Minor Vauxhall Gardens, 164 'Mirage' (1.0), 183 'Miranda,' 68, 69 'Mischief,' 256, 257, 278 'Mist,' 240 'Mohawk' (326 tons), 253, 259, 374 'Mohican,' 329 Mollett, Mr., of Brundall, 210, 213-217 'Mona' (.85), 183 Montagu, Hon. Victor, 17, 338, 339, 350 'Montauk' (193 tons), 253 Morgan, E. D., 265, 275, 402, 418 Morris, A., 77 'Morwena' (1-rater), 1893, 351 'Mosquito' (1/2-rater), 68 'Mosquito' (59 tons), 83 'Mosquito,' R. Northern Y.C., 1848, 45, 78, 326 Motueka (N.Z.), 298 Mount Desert Island (U.S.), 277 Mount Edgcumbe, 40 Mudhook Yacht Club, 87; regatta of 1893, 364 Muir, Mr., owner of 'Mabel,' 67 Mulholland, H. L. _See_ Dunleath Mum, James, R. Clyde Y.C., 79 Mumm, J. F., boat-builder, Bay Ridge, Long Island, 257 'Muriel' (3 tons), 175, 177 'Musume' (2-1/2-rater), 63 'Mystery' (25 tons), R.T.Y.C., 1843, 13 'Mystery,' the (Thames open boat), 217 'Mystic,' American yacht (1856), 249 'Nadador' (2-1/2-rater), 63 'Nadejda,' 175 'Naiad' (3-tonner), 55 'Naiad' (10 tons), 62 'Naida' (3 tons), 175 'Nancy' (1787), 162 Nantucket Sound, 229, 230 Narragansett Bay, 228, 230, 231, 249, 276 'Narwhal' (21-footer), 177 Nash, James, C.W.C., 100 Naushon Island, Maine, 230 'Navahoe,' R. P. Carroll's, 349; matches, 370-393; sail-area in the three matches, 394; record for the season, 396; interest in her production, 400; characteristics, 401; dimensions, 402 'Neaira,' 2, 175 Nelson (N.Z.), 297 'Neptune' (50 tons), 60, 61 Nettlefold, Edward, Commodore of Cumberland Fleet, 165-166 'Neva' (62 tons), 119 New Bedford (U.S.), 277 New Jersey, 232, 236 New London (U.S.), 276 'New Moon' (209 tons), 15, 16 New Orleans, 233 New South Wales, timber of, 313 New Thames Yacht Club, an offshoot of the R.T.Y.C., 173 New York, 236; Bay, 231 New York Yacht Club. 91; birthplace, 239; minutes, 240; early regattas, 241, 242; first international race, 243; 'Maria,' 243-245; 'America,' 246; annual cruise, 276; cruise of 1893, 404; Goelet Cups, 404; map of course, 405; Astor Cups, 406 New Zealand, yachting in, 287; variety of climate, 288, 302; Auckland, 288; Bay of Islands, 289; Auckland Yacht Club, 290; colonial yachts, 290; the 'Mascotte,' 291; cruises in, 291 _et seq._; Little and Great Barrier Islands, 293, 294; fish, 293, 297; goats and rabbits, 293; Firth of Thames, 294; Rangitoto, 294; the Sacred Island, 294; Tauranga, 295; west coast of the North Island, 295; Wellington, 296; Queen Charlotte and Pelorus Sounds, 296, 297; Nelson harbour, 297; north coast of South Island, 298; Lyttelton harbour, 299; old French settlement of Akaroa, 299; the sounds, 300, 301; months suitable for yachting, 302; winds, 302; timber, 313 'Newburg,' American sloop, 249 Newenham, John, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Newenham, R., C.W.C., 100 Newenham, T., C.W.C., 100 Newman, Major H. H., 106 Nice, as a yachting centre, 306; chart of regatta course, 307; races and prizes, 308 Nichols, Captain John, on long courses, 45; skipper of 'Mosquito,' 326 Nicholson, Mr., builder of 'Florinda,' 68 'Niny,' 309 'Nora' (8-rater), 98 Norfolk and Suffolk Yacht Club, 217: rating classes, 217 Norfolk Broads, yachting on, 190; scenery, 193; craft for navigating, 193; the 'Ianthe,' 197, 224; river below Wroxham, 198; Wroxham Broad, 199; Hoveton Broads, 199; houseboats, 199; at Horning, 200; steering on a tortuous river, 201; Ranworth Broad, 202; Barton and South Walsham Broads, 202; movement along water, 202; river Thurne, 203; Hickling Broad, 203; Horsey Mere, 204; the Bure, 204; Acle to Yarmouth, 204; Breydon Water, 204; the river Waveney, 204; the Yare, 204; Haddicoe Cut, 204; Reedham and St. Olave's, 205; pleasure boats, 205; the lateener, 205; the 'Ariel' and the 'Black Maria,' 205; types of boats, 207; old measurement of racing craft, 207; sailing single-handed, 208; alteration in rule of measurement, 209; craft built by Mr. Brighton of Yarmouth and Mr. Mollett of Brundall, 210-217; boats built by Mr. Peed of Oulton, 213; Mr. Mollett's 'Gossip,' 213-215; his 'Castanet,' 215-217; clubs, 217; the Thames 'Mystery,' 217; rule for passing in narrow reaches, 218; rowing boats and anglers, 219; 'putty,' 219, 220; Oulton Broad and Lake Lothing, 220; Lowestoft Harbour, 220; Oulton, 221; Cantley on the Yare, 221; Norwich, 222; boat-letting agencies, 222; Bullen, of Oulton Broad, 222, 224; Hart & Son, of Thorpe, 222; an offer of assistance in hiring yachts, 222; best cruising grounds, 222, 223; Wroxham and Oulton as yachting centres, 223; Loynes's and Bullen's craft and terms of hire, 224; time required to do the rivers and broads, 225; fishing and photography, 226 Norfolk wherries, 194 'Norman,' 175 'Norna,' American yacht, 258 Norrköping, Sweden, 309 North America, British, 275 North Island (N.Z.), 295 'North Star,' American steam yacht, 279; dimensions, 280 Norwegian prams, 147 Norwich, 192, 204, 222, 223, 225 Nottage, Capt., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Nugent, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 'Nyleptha' (21-footer), 177 'Nymph' (15 tons), 77 Oamaru harbour (N.Z.), 300 O'Bryen, Hon. James, Cork Water Club, 1720, 100 O'Bryen, Morough, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 'Ocean Monarch,' emigrant ship, rescued by 'Queen of the Ocean,' 1848, 47, 49 'Ocean Wave,' American steam yacht, 1865, 280 O'Connell, D., loss of, in the 'Peri,' 116, 117 'Oenanthe,' 175 Olsen, Niels, N.Y.Y.C., 279 O'Neal, Charles, Cork Water Club, 1720, 100 O'Neil, Mr., 331, 335, 345 'Onkahya,' John C. Stevens's, 238; loss, 239 Onslow, Earl of, on yachting in New Zealand, 287 _et seq._ Onslow Pinnacle Rock, Bay of Islands (N.Z.), 289 Orfordness, sea disturbance off, 218 'Orion,' American yacht, 250 'Orion,' R. Northern Y.C., 78 Ornskoldskirk, Sweden, 309 Orson, Edward Forbes, of Stranraer, R. Northern Y.C., 1824, 74 'Osborne' (formerly the 'Victoria and Albert'), 6, 9 Otago (N.Z.), 301, 302 'Ottawa,' U.S.S., 247 Oulton Broad, 192, 197, 205, 219-224 'Oweene,' American cutter, 263 Oxford University Sailing Club, 182, 183 Oyster Bay, Long Island, 239 Pacific coast, 233 Paget, B., R.P.C.Y.C., 66 Paget, Lord Alfred, vice-commodore R.T.Y.C., his 'Mystery' and the 'Blue Belle,' May 23, 1843, 170; 'Belvidere' wins the 60_l._ cup in 1845, 171 Paget, W. B., owner of the 'Columbine,' 67 Paine, General, Boston Y.C., his 46-footer, 1891, 263; as a yachtsman, 275; on the canvas of the 'Valkyrie,' 398; owner of 'Jubilee,' 402 Paine, J. B., designer of 'Jubilee,' 402 'Palmer' (194 tons), 252 'Pantaloon,' H.M.S., tender to 'Royal George,' 6 'Pantaloon,' R.Y.S., 1835, 12 'Papoose' (2-1/2-rater), 68 Park, Mr., part owner of 'Ida,' 98 Parker, Ben, skipper, 330, 345 Parker, Michael, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Parkes, Mr., owner of 'Aurora,' Cumberland Fleet, 155 Parsons, Thomas, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Paterson's Inlet (N.Z.), 301 Payne, Arthur, designer of the 'Hyacinth,' 62; the 'Niny,' 309; and 'Corsair,' 338 Payton, Mr., builder of 'Currytush,' 123 Peake, Sir Henry, designer of 'Royal George,' 1814, 5 'Pearl' (4-1/2 tons), 81 'Pearl' (130 tons), R.Y.S., 1835, 12, 13, 243, 326 Peed, Mr., of Oulton, builder of 'Corona,' 213 Pelorus Sound (N.Z.), 296, 297 Pelt, J. G. van, owner of 'Rebecca,' 246 Pembroke, Earl of, Royal Cinque Ports Yacht Club, 68 Penrose, Cooper, Cork Water Club, 104 Pepys, Samuel, quoted, 1-5 'Peri' (5 tons), 116, 117 Pérignon, M. E., vice-president U. des Y.F., 306 Persian Gulf, the, 148 Peter the Great, 5 'Petrel' (10 tons), 116 Pett, Christopher, 2 Pett, Commissioner, builds a yacht for Charles II, 2, 3 Pett, Phineas, builds a yacht for Henry of Wales in 1604, 1, 2 Petty, Sir William, his two-keeled vessel, 3 'Phantom,' R.T.Y.C., 13, 171 'Phantom' (10-rater), 351, 398 'Phantom' (123 tons), American schooner, 252 'Phantom' (172 tons), 69 'Phoebe,' R.M.Y.C., 1845, 47 'Phryne' (40 tons), 56 Picton, Queen Charlotte Sound (N.Z.), 297 Pigeon Bay (N.Z.), 299 'Pilgrim,' American yacht, 1893, 400; dimensions, 402; characteristics, 403; race for Goelet Cups, 404; 407 'Pilot,' H.M.S., training brig, 40 'Pleione,' schooner, 117 'Plover,' American yacht, 249 Plymouth, 39 'Pocahontas,' Amer. sloop, 257 Polhemus, A., boat-builder, Nyack, New York, 254 Ponsonby, Lord, R.Y.S., 10 Popham, F. W. L., owner of 'White Slave,' 330 Popham, Mr., owner of 'Bird of Freedom,' 56 Port Chalmers (N.Z.), 301 Port Fitzroy, Great Barrier Island (N.Z.), 293 Port Leny (N.Z.), 299 Port Nicholson (N.Z.), 296 Portland, Duke of, owner of 'Pantaloon,' R.Y.S., 1835, 12 Potter Heigham, 203, 204, 225 Pottinger, Thomas, Admiral R.N.Y.C., 1825, 74, 75 Prams, Norwegian, 147 'Preciosa' (10 tons), 174 Preservation of food on yacht voyages, 141 'Prima Donna' (25 tons), R.T.Y.C., 145, 171 'Primrose' (3 tons), 175 Prince Alfred Yacht Club, Sydney, 311 Prince, C. A., Boston Y.C., 275 'Prince of Wales,' Cumberland Fleet, 1786, 161, 162 'Princess' (40 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17 'Princess Royal,' steamer, R.M.Y.C., 1845, 47 'Priscilla,' Amer. yacht, 225, 227 Pritchett, R. T., on royal yachts and English yacht clubs, 1 _et seq._; on Royal Forth Yacht Club, 96; on Royal Northern Yacht Club, Rothesay, 72 _et seq._; on Royal Cork Yacht Club, 99 _et seq._; on Royal Corinthian Yacht Club, Erith, 173 _et seq._; on foreign and colonial yachting, 304 _et seq._; on yachting at Bermuda, 318; on famous races, 324; on racing in a 40-rater in 1892, 332 'Providence,' Cumberland Fleet, 1797, 164 'Ptarmigan' (10-rater), 351 Puget's Sound, 233 'Puritan,' General Paine's, 255, 257, 260, 261, 263, 278, 333 Pussey & Jones, builders of 'Pilgrim,' 402 Putland, George, Commodore R. Alfred Y.C., 110, 115 Puxly, Henry, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Quail Island, Lyttelton (N.Z.), 299 Quebec, 309, 310, 311 Queen, Her Majesty the, purchases Osborne House, 6; first cruise in the 'Victoria and Albert,' 8; patronage of yacht clubs, 9, 18; patroness of the Royal St. George's Yacht Club, Kingstown, 106; of the R.T.Y.C., 170, 171 'Queen' (15 tons), 114 Queen Charlotte Sound (N.Z.), 296, 297 'Queen Mab,' 60, 71, 96, 329, 330, 333, 334, 336, 337, 340, 343, 345-347, 350 'Queen of the Ocean,' R.M.Y.C., 47, 49 Queensland, coast of, 288 Queenstown, 7 'Qui Vive,' American yacht, 250 'Quickstep,' Amer. schooner, 263 'Quickstep' (20 tons), 56; her matches with the 'Enriqueta,' 58, 59 Quilter, Mr., part owner of the 'Mascotte,' 55 'Quinque' (5-rater), 63, 351 Racing in a 40-rater in 1892, a detailed description, 332 _et seq._ Raleigh, Walter, 1 'Rambler' (160 tons), 252 Rangitoto (N.Z.), 294 Ranken, A., 77 Ranworth Broad, 202 Rasch, Captain, R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Ratsey, Charles, boat-builder, 68, 149, 325, 326, 398, 402 Reade, Lieut.-Col. Arthur L., secretary of the Royal Windermere Lake Yacht Club, 189 Reany & Naeafy, builders of 'Ocean Wave,' 280 Reanyson & Archibald, boat-builders, Chester, Pennsylvania, 256 'Rebecca,' J. G. van Pelt's, 246 'Red Lancer' (5-rater), 330, 331, 351, 398 Reedham, 204, 205, 222 'Restless' (95 tons), American schooner, 252 'Reverie' (40-rater), 1891, lines, 70; 336, 337 'Reverie' (41 tons), Clyde Y.C., cutter, 82 Ricardo, Charles, secretary of Upper Thames Sailing Club, his account of a 'fitted race,' 320, 321 Richards, S., R.P.C.Y.C., 66 Richardson, Alex., owner of the 'Naiad,' 116; designer of 'Challenge,' 120, 122 Richardson, G. W., owner of the 'Sayonara,' 53 'Richmond,' American yacht (1857), 249 Richmond, D. O., boat-builder, Mystic, Connecticut, 256 Richmond, Duke of (1771), 324 'Rival,' 91 'Rival' (3-tonner), 123 'Rivet' (17 tons), 310 'Rob Roy' (16 tons), 327 'Rob Roy,' Mr. Macgregor's, 28 Robertson, F. A., owner of 'Uranus,' 98 'Robinson' (10 tons), 174 Roche, Edmund, Cork Water Club, 100 Roche, John (C.W.C.), 104 'Rocket' (6 tons), yawl, 88 Rockland, on the Yare, 222 Rogers, Archibald, N.Y.Y.C., 275; part owner of 'Colonia,' 402 Rogers, James, N.Y.Y.C., 240; his 'Adda,' 240 Rogers, John (C.W.C., 1720), 100 Rogers, Robert (C.W.C., 1760), 100 Roland, Thomas (C.W.C.), 104 Rollins, George B., N.Y.Y.C., 240; his 'Minna,' 240 Rothesay, the Royal Northern Yacht Club at, 72; R.N.Y.C. club-house, 77 Rothschild, Baron A. de, 306 Rowan, J. (R. Clyde Y.C.), 81 Rowley, A. B., owner of the 'Latona,' 69 Royal Albert Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; Corinthian matches, 118; number of yachts and members, 118; entry in 1875 for the No. 1 Champion Cup, 119; description of a Corinthian match in 1876, 119 _et seq._; Corinthian match in 1879, 122; alterations in courses, 123; 3-tonners and 5-tonners, 123; rule of measurement and conditions of sailing, 123; houseless, 124; the regatta of 1893, 380 Royal Alfred Yacht Club, Kingstown, Queen's Cups received, 18; its Channel matches, 84; origin of, 108; first named Irish Model Yacht Club, 108; rule on fleet sailing, 109; reorganisation, 109; rule on racing flags, 109; challenge cup instituted, 110; club matches, 110; named Prince A.Y.C., 110; commodores appointed, 110; Duke of Edinburgh patron, 111; prizes, 111; amateur matches, 111; race for 2nd and 3rd class yachts in 1868, 111-114; Mr. Lyle's prize for a one-handed race, 114; introduction of Champion Cups, 114; Duke of Edinburgh commodore in 1871, 115; a 'Royal' Club, 115; increase of members, 115; burgee, 115; 'Enid' wins Duke of Edinburgh's gold cup, 115; presented with a Queen's Cup, 115; fatalities in single-handed racing in 1872, and stoppage of same, 116, 117; matches in 1874, 117, 118; swimming match in clothes, 118; headquarters, 146 Royal Bermuda Yacht Club, 318 Royal Bombay Yacht Club, 315 Royal Canadian Yacht Club, 309 Royal Cinque Ports Yacht Club, Queen's Cups received, 18; estab. 1872, 68; regatta, 68 Royal Clyde Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; instituted as Clyde Model Yacht Club, 79; original members, 79; ensign and burgee, 79; chart of course, 80; measurement rule and racing flags, 81; meeting in 1857, 81; American 'sail-area' measurement, 82; called Clyde Yacht Club, 82; annual regatta, 82; Corinthian regatta, 82; opening and closing cruises, 83; members and yachts in 1867, 83; foundation of annual Corinthian match in 1868, 84; founder of 40-, 20-, 10-, and 5-ton classes, 84; Channel matches, 84; made a 'Royal' club in 1872, 85; new club-house at Hunter's Quay, 85; opening meeting of 1872, 85; adoption of Royal Alfred Y.C. rules, 86; club-house, 87; members and tonnage in 1877, 87; a 'Clyde week,' 87; new courses, 87, 88; Y.R.A.'s system of time allowances, 88; entries of large racing yachts in 1878, 88; entries and prizes in 1880-1881, 89; purchase of 'Alcyone,' 89; terms of that yacht's hire, 90; recipient of Queen's Cup in 1883, 90; closing cruise of 1884, 90; alteration of courses, 91; challenges New York Yacht Club, 91; 'Thistle' and 'Volunteer' matches, 91; finances, 92; resignation of Lord Glasgow, 92; officials, 92; acquisition of three boats, 92; adoption of Y.R.A. length and sail-area rule, 93; classes under 'rating rule,' 93; second Queen's Cup, 64; match round Arran, 94; loss of club-house by fire, 94; renting of Craigend Villa, 94; cups and money prizes, 94; small raters in 1890, 95; present fleet, 95; present members, 95; regatta of 1893, 365 Royal Corinthian Yacht Club, Erith (the original Corinthian club), 173; premises, 174; classification of yachts, 174; racing, 174; 10-ton class, 174; 3-ton class, 175; 21-foot class, 176; 2-1/2-raters, 177; officers in 1894, 178 Royal Cork Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; origin, 99; Water Club of Harbour of Cork, 99; early rules, 99; members of 1720 and 1760, 100; sailing orders for Water Club fleet, 1720, 102; decadence from 1765 till 1822, 102; chart of course for 40-raters, 103; institution of Little Monkstown Club, 104; re-establishment of Water Club under title of Cork Yacht Club, 104; club-house and its pictures at Queenstown, 106 Royal Cornwall Club, 18 Royal Dart Club matches, 385 Royal Dorset Club, Weymouth, receive a Queen's Cup in 1887, 18; founded in 1875, 345 Royal Eastern Yacht Club, 98 Royal Forth Yacht Club, establishment of, 96; present officials, 96; members, 96; match from Hartlepool to Granton in 1893, 96; the Queen's Cup, 96; chart of courses, 97; match for T.B.C. West Challenge Cup, 98 'Royal George,' royal yacht, dimensions, 5; used on occasion of the Queen's accession, 6 Royal Halifax Yacht Club, 311 Royal Harwich Y.C., 18, 218 Royal Irish Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; established 1846, 108; regatta of 1893, 368; map of the course, 371 Royal London Yacht Club, 18; established 1838, 178; flag, 178; adopt flying starts, 179; development of yachting, 179; regatta of 1893, 370 Royal Mersey Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; established 1844, 46; moved from Liverpool to Birkenhead, 46; first race, 47; plan of course, 48; Jubilee regatta, 49; regatta of 1893, 363 Royal Northern Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; home at Rothesay, 72; chart of Clyde course, 73; origin of, 74; original members, 74; Irish and Scotch divisions, 74, 76; burgee, 75, 76; full dress of members, 75; classing of yachts in 1826 and 1831, 79; first regatta at Belfast, 76; William IV. patron, 76; two days' regatta at Belfast in 1836, 76; dissolution of Irish division in 1838, 77; club-house, 77; yachts, 78; present secretary, 78; Channel matches, 84; regatta 1893, 363 Royal Nova Scotia Y.C., 311 Royal Portsmouth Corinthian Yacht Club, 49; instituted 1880, 50; first officers, 50; map of course, 51; definition of amateur, 52; first regatta, 52; matches, 52; popularity, 53; season of 1881, 54; increase of membership, 54; introduction of 3-tonners, 55; regatta of 1883, 56; prosperity in 1884, 56; opening cruise, 57; foot classes, 57; A, B, C classes, 60; increase in number of regattas, 61; shifting keels, 62; rating classes, 63; 1/2-raters, 64; programme for 1891, 65; service to amateur seamanship, 66; the regatta of 1893, 67 Royal St. George's Yacht Club, Kingstown: Queen's Cups received, 18; established 1838, 106; chart of course, 107 Royal South Australian Yacht Squadron, Adelaide, 314 Royal Southampton Yacht Club, 340; the regatta of 1893, 378; map of the Warner and Lymington course, 379 Royal Southern Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; Jubilee regatta of 1893, 361 Royal Sydney Yacht Sq., 311 Royal Thames Club, 13, 18, 167-172; matches of 1893, 352-358 Royal Ulster Yacht Club: Queen's Cups received, 18; 2-1/2-raters, 95; headquarters, 108; regatta of 1893, 366; map of the course, 367 Royal Victoria Yacht Club, Ryde, 18, 43-45 Royal West of Ireland Club, Queen's Cups, 18 Royal Western Yacht Club, Plymouth, 18, 39-43 Royal Windermere Lake Yacht Club, founded 1860, 183; leading feature, 184; precautions to insure good racing, 184; map of course, 187 Royal Yacht Club of Victoria, Australia, 314 Royal Yacht Squadron: club-house, 9; established 1812, 10; position in yachting world, 10; new club-house, 10; seal, 11; reception of Emperor and Empress of the French, 12; class of vessels, 12; cup to R.T.Y.C. in 1843, 13; cup of 1851 taken by 'America,' 14; Jubilee (1865), 15; in Queen's Jubilee year, 16; Queen's Cup winners, 16; averse to steam yachts, 16; fleet, 17, 18; Queen's course, 19; regatta of 1893, 374 Royal Yorkshire Club, 18 'Ruby' (Thames boat), 218 Ruck, F., R.E., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Russell, George (R.N.Y.C., 1824), 74 Rutherford, L. M., N.Y.Y.C., 241 Ruthven, Edward S., R.N.Y.C., 1824, 74 Ryder, Admiral, R.P.C.Y.C., 50 'Sachem,' Amer. schooner, 263 'Sadie,' Amer. yacht (1867), 250 St. Augustine, Bay of (U.S.), 233 'St. George,' st. yacht, 1875, 290 'St. George,' Coronation Sailing Society dispute regarding the match of 1823, 167 'St. George' (7 tons), Cumberland Fleet, 161, 164 St. George's, Bermuda, dinghy racing at, 321-323 St. John's River (Florida), 233; 'America' found sunk in, 247 St. Kilda, Australia, 314 St. Lawrence Club, Montreal, 311 St. Lawrence river, Canada, 310 St. Olave's, on the Waveney, 205 'Saivnara' (21-footer), 177 Salhouse Broads, 199 'Samoena,' 54, 64, 352 San Francisco, Bay of, 234 Sandwich, Lord, 3 Sandy Hook Lightship, 231 Sanitary precautions on yachts, 136-142 'Sanitas' for yacht sanitation, 136 Santa Barbara, 234 Santa Katalina, 234 'Santry' (25 tons), 54 'Sappho,' American schooner, 249, 253, 258, 278 'Satanella' (16 tons), 54 'Satanita,' in Jubilee Regatta of R. Mersey Y.C., 1893, 49; designer and builder, 349; R.T.Y.C. race June 10, 1893, 358; the Royal Southern, June 17, 361; Royal Mersey, June 24, 363; Royal Northern, July 1, 363; at Hunter's Quay, July 5, 364; in Clyde Corinthian Club match, 364; Royal Clyde regatta, 365; Royal Ulster regatta, 366; Royal Irish regatta, 368; Royal London match, 370; the Meteor Challenge Shield, 375; wins Cowes Town Cup, 376; and R.Y.S. prize on Aug. 4, 377; wins Royal Albert match, Aug. 14, 380; Torbay regatta, 382; Royal Dart match, 385; Start Bay Club match, 386; points superior to 'Britannia,' 394; record for season, 395; mainsail, 399; versus 'Navahoe,' 400 Savage, Mr., Cork Water Club, 104 Savannah (Georgia), 232 'Savourna,' 330, 331 Savoy, Colonel, R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Sawyer, John, & Co., sailmakers, New York, 274 Saxe-Weimar, Prince Edward of, com., R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 53, 66 'Sayonara' (20 tons), 53, 91 Schuyler, George L., N.Y.Y.C., 240; his 'Dream,' 240, 242; part owner of 'America,' 246 Scovell, Mr., R.A.Y.C., 110 'Sea Fox' (204 tons), American schooner, 253 'Seabelle' (142 tons), 68, 69, 344 'Seaflower,' H.M. brig, 40 'Seagull,' R.M.Y.C., 1845, 47 Seawanhaka Yacht Club, New York, 259 'Secret,' R.T.Y.C., 170 'Secret' (31 tons), 112, 114 Selwyn Island (N.Z.), 293 Senior, Julian, R.P.C.Y.C., 66 'Senta' (3-tonner), 123, 316 'Shadow,' American sloop, built on 'compromise model,' 250; lines, 251 Shankill (Co. Dublin), 147 Shankill Corinthian Sailing Club, 148 Sharman-Crawford, Captain, rear-commodore R. Ulster Y.C., 108 Sharpies, Canadian, 310 Sheddon, Col., R.Y.S. 1815, 10 'Sheilah' (20 tons), 119-122 Shepherd, J., his 'Daydream,' 96 Sheppard, Mr., starts the Minor Vauxhall Gardens, 164; gives cups to Cumberland Fleet, 164, 165 'Shona' (5-tonner), 123 Signals, J. A. Lyle's book of, 109 'Silver Star' (40 tons), 56 Simonson, Jeremiah, builder of 'North Star,' 280 Simpson, Messrs., 177 Sinclair, R., 77 'Siola' (20-rater), 63 'Siren' (72 tons), 242 'Sleuthhound' (40 tons), 54, 56, 337 Small, Captain, R.C.Y.C., 81 Smith, A. Cary, joint designer of 'Vindex,' 256, 258; designer of 'Mischief,' 256; 'Priscilla,' 257; position as a designer, 257, 275; marine artist, 258 Smith & Dimon, boat-builders, New York, 280 Smith & Wellstood, Glasgow, 140 Smith-Barry, John, Cork Water Club, 12, 104 Smith, E., Cumberland Fleet, 164 Smith, James (first commodore R. Clyde Y.C.), 77, 79 Smith, J. W., owner of 'Secret,' R.T.Y.C., 1847, 170 Smith, Mr., first commodore of Cumberland Fleet, 156 Smith, Sir Alex. (1771), 324 Smith, T., R.T.Y.C., 169 Smyth, J., of Helensburgh, com. R. Northern Y.C., 74 'Snarley Yow' (3 tons), 56, 175 Snydam, D. L., joint owner of 'Cygnet,' 242 Snydam, John R., joint owner of 'Cygnet,' 242 Société des Régates au Havre, 306 'Sonata,' Arthur Glennie's, 54 Soper, J. M., boat designer, 70, 176, 180, 349 South California, 234 South Walsham Broad, 202 South Walsham Dyke, 203 'Speedy,' H.M.S., 61 Spencer, J., R. Clyde Y.C., 79 'Speranza' (85 tons), yawl, 119 'Spitfire,' Cumberland Fleet, dispute in match of 1823, 167; wins first match of R.T.Y.C., 168 Spratt, Nelson, designer of 'Julia,' 246 'Spray' (37 tons), 240, 242, 243 Stalkart's 'Naval Architecture,' design from, 4 Start Bay Yacht Club Regatta, 1893, 386; map of course, 387 Stawell, Sampson, Cork Water Club, 100 Steam yachting in America: the 'North Star,' 279, 280; 'Firefly,' 'Clarita,' 'Ocean Wave,' and 'Day Dream,' 280; open steam launch, 281; flush-deck yacht, 282, 285; deep-sea craft, 284; engines, 285; naphtha engines, 286 Steers, George, designer of 'Gimcrack,' 239; ability, 243; share in designing the 'Maria,' 243; 'Una' and 'Julia,' 245; 'America,' 246 'Stella' (2-1/2-rater), 62 Sterling, Colonel J., 393 Steven, Mr., his 'Comet,' 81 Stevens, Commodore John C., N.Y.Y.C., his schooner 'America' wins R.Y.S. Cup in 1851, 14, 246; founder of N.Y.Y.C., 227; his 'Diver,' 237; 'Trouble' and 'Double Trouble,' 237; 'Wave' and 'Onkahya,' 238; 'Maria' and 'Gimcrack,' 237, 242-245 Stevens, Edward, part owner of 'Maria,' 244, 245 Stevens, Edward A., part owner of 'America,' 247, 279 Stevens, Robert, part owner of 'Maria,' 244 Steward, duties of an honorary, on a yacht, 140 _et seq._ Stewart and Binney, designers of 'Pilgrim,' 402 Stewart's Island (N.Z.), 288, 301 Stockholm, 309 Stone, Douglas, yacht designer, 176; builder of 'Eva,' 177 Story, W. C., R.P.C.Y.C., 50 Stoves for yachts, 140 'Sunbeam,' Lord Brassey's steam yacht, 16, 290 'Sunshine' (20 tons), 119-122 'Surge,' 174 Surlingham Broads, 222 Sussex, Duke of, patron of Royal Western Y.C., 1833, 42 Sutherland, James (R. Clyde Y.C.), 79; his 'Echo,' 82 Sutton, Captain, first rear- and vice-commodore R.P.C.Y.C., 50, 54, 64, 66 Sutton, Messrs., owners of the 'Diamond,' 52 Sutton, Sir Richard, owner of 'Genesta,' 173 'Swan' (4-tonner), 212 Sweden, yachting in, 309 Swedish Yachting Club, 309 'Sweetheart,' 174 'Syanara,' American yacht (1891), 266 'Sybil' (26 tons), 62 Sycamore, skipper of 'Corsair,' 330, 342 'Sylph' (30 tons), R.N.Y.C., 77 'Sylph,' American schooner, 238 'Sylvie' (106 tons), American schooner, 252 Symonds, Sir W., designer of the old 'Victoria and Albert,' 6 'Syren' (25 feet), 59 'Talisman' (84 tons), 326 Tamesis Sailing Club, 182 'Tar Baby' (5-rater), 63 'Tara' (40 tons), 56 'Tarifa' (8-rater), 291 'Tarolenta' (204 tons), American schooner, 252 'Tartar' (30 tons), 77 Tauranga Harbour (N.Z.), 295 Taylor, Commodore Thomas, Cumberland Fleet, 1780, 152; his clinker-built 'King's Fisher,' 152-154; founder of Thames yacht-racing, 154, 156; his 'Cumberland,' 157-159, 162; wins the match against 'Eclipse' in 1793, 162; retirement, 165 Taylor, Mr., 53, 68, 82 Taylor, Mrs., 344 'Terpsichore' (38 tons), 62, 175 Texas, 233 'Thalassa' (2-1/2-rater), 62 'Thalia,' 71, 337, 338, 340, 343, 345, 346, 350, 397 Thames, the: the year 1770 an important epoch for yachting, 152; first rowing regatta, 154; introduction of 21-foot class, 176; improved state at Erith, 178; match 1830, 327 Thames, Harwich, and Cinque Ports courses, map of, 357 Thames Sailing Club, 182 Thames United Sailing Club, 188 Thames Valley Sailing Club, 182 Thames Yacht Club. _See_ Royal Thames Yacht Club Thayer, Bayard, Boston Y.C., 275, 402 Thellusson, Percy, secretary R.V.Y.C., Ryde, 46 'Thetis,' 291 'Thief' (5-rater), 63 'Thistle' (afterwards 'Meteor'), 63, 91, 278, 309 Thomas, Sir G., R.Y.S. 1815, 10 Thomond, Marquis of, Cork Water Club, 10, 102 Thompson, F., owner of 'Challenge,' 119 Thompson, G. B., R.A.Y.C., 111, 116, 119 Thomson, Gordon, R.N.Y.C., 1824, 74 Thomson, Robert, R.N.Y.C. (sec. 1824, admiral 1827), 74 'Three Brothers,' 254 Thurne, river, 192, 203, 204, 225 'Thyra,' 91 'Tidal Wave' (153 tons), 252 Timaru harbour (N.Z.), 300 'Times' (August 9, 1886) cited, 159; (July 23, 1795), 164 Tinned fruits and vegetables, 142 'Titania,' American cutter, 263 Tooker, William, builder of 'Rebecca,' 246 Torbay regatta, 1893, 382; race chart, 383 'Torch' (15 tons), 82, 84, 174 'Torment' (5 tons), 116, 117 Toronto, 309, 310 Torres Straits, 288 'Tottie' (21-footer), 176, 177 Towers-Clark, Captain, owner of 'Varuna,' 350 Townsend, J., owner of 'Whirlwind,' 122 'Triton,' Amer. schooner, 250 'Trixie' (3-tonner), 210 'Trouble,' J. C. Stevens's, 237 'Troublesome' (2-1/2-rater), 64 Turnley, J., R.N.Y.C., 1824, 74 Tyars, Jonathan, proprietor of Vauxhall Gardens, 161; presents Cumberland Fleet with a cup, 161 'Ulerin' (10 tons), 57 'Ulidia' (10 tons), 56, 57, 175, 345 'Una,' sloop, N.Y.Y.C., 241; lengthened, 245 'Undine' (2-1/2-rater), 68 'Undine,' American sloop (1852), 249 Union des Yachts Français, 306 Union Steamship Co., 290, 301 'Unit' (1-rater), 64 Upper Thames Sailing Club, club-house at Bourne End, 181; Challenge Cup, 182 'Uranus' (3.9-rater), cutter, 98 Ure, Mr., his 'Lily,' 82 Ure, R., 365 Urquhart, Major, 58 Uxbridge, Lord, R.Y.S., 1815, 10 'Valentine' (5-rater), 63 'Valiant' (2,400 tons), 418 'Valkyrie' (76 tons), 63 'Valkyrie,' Lord Dunraven's, 278, 308, 349; in races in 1893, 352-377; compared with 'Britannia,' 394; record for the season, 395; canvas, 398; dimensions, 402; in American waters, 407; matches against 'Vigilant,' 410-412, 418-421 'Vampire' (20 tons), 111-113 Vanderbilt, Cornelius, owner of 'North Star,' 280; 'Valiant,' 418 Vanderbilts, the, 284 'Vanessa' (20 tons), 54 'Varuna,' 71, 329, 330, 337, 350, 360, 397 Vauxhall Cup, Cumberland Fleet, 161, 162 Vauxhall Gardens, proprietors place a wonderful car on the Thames in 1794, 163; cups given by them to the Cumberland Fleet, 164 'Vega' (40 tons), 50 Velocity of wind, difference in the effect of, in English and American waters, 419 'Velzie' (20-rater), 63 'Vendetta' (40-rater), 360, 397 'Venelia' (3 tons), 175 'Venus,' Cumberland Fleet, 166 'Venus' (13 tons), 327 'Verena' (25 feet), 62 'Veronica' (92 tons), 62 'Vesta' (201 tons), American schooner, 253 'Victor,' 312 'Victoria,' American sloop (1856), blockade-runner, 249 Victoria, Australia, 314 'Victoria and Albert,' 1843, 6, 7; new yacht, 7, 8 'Vida' (23-footer), 1893, 351 'Vigilant,' 278, 333, 334, 400; characteristics, 401; dimensions, 402; boom, 403; in first regatta of N.Y.Y.C., cruise of 1893, 404; Goelet Cups, 404; pitted against 'Valkyrie,' 407; wins three matches, 410-412, 418-421 'Vigorna' (20-rater), 351, 397 'Viking,' 374 'Vindex' (44 tons), 83 'Vindex' (68 tons), first iron yacht built in America, 256, 258 'Viola' (20 tons), 53 'Virago' (6 tons), 174 'Vixen,' Cumberland Fleet, in a race in 1795, 164; wins a club cup in 1812, 165 'Vixen' (19 tons), 1830, 327 'Vixen' (90 tons), American sloop, dimensions, 256 'Vol au Vent' (103 tons), 68, 69 'Volador' (21 feet), 62 'Volunteer,' 263, 278 Voorhis, J., designer of the 'Madeleine,' 256 Voorhis, William, owner of 'Addie,' 254 Waimea (N.Z.), 298 Waitemata (N.Z.), 290, 294 Waiwera (N.Z.), 292 Walcot, John, Cork Water Club, 1760, 100 Wales, Prince of, names and dates of yachts owned by him, 17; his 'Britannia' competes with 'Navahoe,' for Gold Challenge Cup of R.V.Y.C., 43; his 'Belle Lurette,' 54; Commodore of R.T.Y.C., 173; enthusiasm evoked by 'Britannia,' 349 Walford, Mr., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Walker, Mr., his 'Bella,' 81 'Wanderer' (9-tonner), 210, 213 'Wanderer' (187 tons), American schooner, 249, 253, 258 'Wanderer,' steam yacht, 16 Wanhill, Mr., 172 'Wasp' (46-footer), 266, 267 Water Wag Association, institution of the, 147 'Water Wags' and Mermaids of Dublin Bay, 146-151 'Water Witch,' R.T.Y.C., 169 Waterbury, J. M., N.Y.Y.C., 240, 242, 245, 246 Waterhouse & Chesebro, 275 Waterman, Mr., designer of 'Mosquito,' 78 'Waterwitch' (331 tons), brig, Earl of Belfast's, 324 Watkins, A., yacht designer, 176 Watson, G. L., designer, 17, 53, 57, 176, 309, 312, 337, 340, 349, 351, 402, 418 'Wave' (15 tons), 77, 81 'Wave' (25 feet), 57 'Wave,' John C. Stevens's, 238 'Wavecrest' (35 tons), yawl, 112, 113 'Waveney' (Norfolk barge), 192, 197 Waveney, river, 204, 205, 220 Webb & Allen, Messrs., American boat-builders, 238 Webb, Beavor, builder of 'Kate,' 52 'Wee Winn,' fin-keel boat, 269 Weir, David, of Partick, his 1-rater half-model, 180 Weld, Joseph, owner of 'Alarm,' R.Y.S., 1830, 12, 326 Wellington (N.Z.), First Class Championship yacht race at, 291, 296, 297 Welshe, Sir G., R.Y.S., 1815, 10 'Wendur' (43 tons), 45, 69, 334 'Wenona,' fin-keel boat, 268, 269 West, J. R., R.P.C.Y.C., 57, 66 West, T. B. C., 45, 69, 96, 334 Westport (N.Z.), 298 Wetmore & Holbrook, 238 Weymouth, 346 Whangaroa (N.Z.), 289 Wheatley, Col., R.Y.S. 1815, 10 Wherries, Norfolk, 195 'Whirlwind' (77-ton), yawl, 122 White Island (N.Z.), 295 White, J., builder of 'Latona,' 69 'White Slave,' 329, 330, 337 Wicklow, 148 'Widgeon' (24 tons), R.T.Y.C., 171 'Widgeon' (105 tons), American schooner, 252 Wildy, A. G., R.P.C.Y.C., 64 Wilkes, Hamilton, N.Y.Y.C., 240; his 'Spray,' 204, 242; part owner of 'America,' 246 Wilkinson, A. O., owner of 'Phantom,' 68, 69 William IV., gives a cup to R.Y.S., 11; patron of the R.N.Y.C., 76; of the R.T.Y.C., 169; death of, 170 Williams, Lawrence Faulkes, 280 Wilson, Adrian, his improvements in duck and yarn, 273 Wilson, Mr., part owner of 'Ida,' 98 Wilson & Griffen, sailmakers, 402 Wilson & Silsby, sailmakers, Boston (U.S.), 273, 274, 402 Winde & Clinckard, boat-builders, New York, 243 'Windfall,' 330 'Windsor Castle,' 1854, 7 Winsor, T. G. F., hon. sec. R.C.Y.C., Erith, 178 Winteringham, Mr., yacht-designer, New York, 275 Wood, N., his 'Corinne,' 68 Woodbastwick Broad, 199 'Woodcock' (10-rater), 351 'Wren,' Miss Foley's, 52 Wroxham, 192, 197, 198, 199, 222, 223, 225 Wroxham Broad, 199, 222, 223 Wylie, Robert, 93, 177, 351 'Xarifa,' schooner, 1835, 13 'Xema' (35 tons), 111-114 Y.R.A. rule of measurement by length and sail-area, 93 Yacht racing in 1893, 349; decline in 10- and 40-raters, 350; 20-raters, 351; 10-raters, 351; 23-footers, 351; 5-raters, 351; 2-1/2-raters, 351; 1-raters, 351; review of big-cutter contests, 352-396; records of 40-raters, 396; of 20-raters, 397 'Yarana' (72 tons), 63 Yare, river, 192, 204, 205, 221, 222 Yare Sailing Club, 217; rating classes, 217; regatta, 221 Yarmouth, 192, 196, 198, 204, 220, 222, 223, 225 York, Duke of, Admiral of the Royal London Y.C., 179 York, Duke of, loses a sailing match to Charles II., 1661, 2 York, William (treasurer R. Clyde Y.C.), 83, 88, 92 'Yseult' (10-tonner), 330 'Yum-Yum' (30 feet), 60 'Zampa,' American yacht, 258 'Zenobia' (38 tons), Prince of Wales's, 17 'Zephyr,' 50, 174 'Zinita' (20-rater), 351; record for the season 1893, 398 'Zoe,' C. Johnson's, 50 'Zouave,' American yacht, 249 Zymine, compound, for yacht voyages, 139 _Spottiswoode & Co. Printers, New-street Square, London._