At eleven, everyone was on board. The captain and the crew occupied themselves with the final preparations. At midnight the fires were kindled, and soon clouds of black smoke mingled with the vapors of the night; the sails of the Duncan had been carefully reefed in a canvas sheathing, which served to protect them from injury. The wind blew from the southeast, and did not favor the progress of the vessel; but at two o’clock the ship began to heave under the action of her boilers. The manometer indicated a pressure of four atmospheres, and the overheated steam whistled through the escape-valves. The sea was tranquil, and soon daylight enabled them to distinguish the passes of the Clyde between the buoys and beacons, whose lights were gradually extinguished as the morning dawned.
Captain Mangles informed Lord Glenarvan, who at once came on deck. Very soon the ebb-tide was felt. The Duncan gave a few shrill whistles, slackened her cables, and separated from the surrounding vessels. Her screw was set in motion, which propelled her into the channel of the river. The captain had taken no pilot. He was perfectly acquainted with the navigation of the Clyde, and no one could have commanded better. At a sign from him the yacht started. With his right hand he controlled the engine, and with his left the tiller, with silent but unerring skill.
Soon the last workshops on the shore gave place to villas, built here and there upon the hills, and the sounds of the city died away in the distance. An hour afterwards, the Duncan passed the rocks of Dumbarton; two hours later she was in the Frith of Clyde; and at six o’clock in the morning she doubled Cantyre Point, emerged from the North Channel, and gained the open sea.
VI
An Unexpected Passenger
During the first day’s voyage the sea was quite rough, and the wind freshened towards evening. The Duncan rolled considerably, so that the ladies did not appear on deck, but very wisely remained in their cabins. The next day the wind changed a point, and the captain set the main-, fore-, and foretopsails, thus causing less perception of the rolling and pitching motion.
Lady Helena and Mary Grant were able before daybreak to join Lord Glenarvan, the major, and the captain, on deck. The sunrise was magnificent. The orb of day, like a gilded metal disk, rose from the ocean, as from an immense and silvery basin. The ship glided in the midst of a splendid iridescence, and you would truly have thought that her sails expanded under the influence of the sun’s rays, whilst even the crew of the yacht silently admired this reappearance of the orb of day.
“What a magnificent spectacle!” said Lady Helena, at last. “This is the beginning of a beautiful day. May the wind not prove contrary, but favor the progress of the Duncan!”
“No better weather could be desired, my dear Helena,” replied Lord Glenarvan; “we have no reason to complain of the commencement of the voyage.”
“Will it be a long one, my dear Edward?”
“That is for the captain to answer,” said he. “Are we progressing well? Are you satisfied with your vessel, captain?”
“Very well indeed,” was the answer. “She is a marvelous craft, and a sailor likes to feel her under his feet. Never were hull and engine more in unison. See how smooth her wake is, and how easily she rides the waves. We are moving at the rate of seventeen knots an hour. If this continues, we shall cross the line in ten days, and in five weeks shall double Cape Horn.”
“You hear, Mary,” said Lady Helena: “in five weeks!”
“Yes,” replied the young girl, “I hear; and my heart beat quickly at the words of the captain.”
“And how do you bear this voyage, Miss Mary?” inquired Lord Glenarvan.
“Very well, my lord; I do not experience very many discomforts. Besides, I shall soon be accustomed to it.”
“And young Robert?”
“Oh, Robert!” replied Captain Mangles: “when he is not engaged with the engine he is perched at masthead. I tell you he is a boy who mocks seasickness. Only look at him!”
At a gesture of the captain, all eyes were turned towards the mainmast, and everyone could perceive Robert, suspended by the stays of the foretop-gallant sail, a hundred feet aloft. Mary could not restrain a motion of fear.
“Oh, be easy, miss!” said Captain Mangles. “I will answer for him, and promise you I will present, in a short time, a famous sailor to Captain Grant; for we shall find that worthy captain.”
“May Heaven hear you, sir!” replied the young girl.
“My dear child,” said Lord Glenarvan, “there is in all this something providential, which ought to give us hope. We are not merely going, we are led; we are not seeking blindly, we are guided. And then see all these brave people enrolled in the service of so good a cause. Not only shall we succeed in our enterprise, but it will be accomplished without difficulty. I have promised Lady Helena a pleasure voyage; and, if I am not mistaken, I shall keep my word.”
“Edward,” said Lady Glenarvan, “you are the best of men.”
“Not so; but I have the best of crews, on the best of ships. Do you not wonder at our Duncan, Miss Mary?”
“On the contrary, my lord,” answered the young girl, “I don’t so much wonder as admire; for I am well acquainted with ships.”
“Ah! indeed!”
“When a mere child, I played on my father’s ships. He ought to have made a sailor of me. If it were necessary, perhaps I should not now be embarrassed in taking a reef or twisting a gasket.”
“What is that you’re saying, miss?” exclaimed the captain.
“If you talk
