The Three Admirals Part 43

They were ushered into a handsome drawing-room, and the lady of the house--a buxom dame--came smiling forward, while three young damsels rose and put down the work on which they had been engaged.

"The Counsellor must have had good hope of success, or he would scarcely have invited the young lieutenant to remain at his house with three such attractive girls as those are," thought Jack, as he cast a glance at the young ladies, while he advanced across the room.

Mrs McMahon received them with Irish cordiality and begged them to be seated. "I'm expecting the counsellor back every moment, and I conclude that our young friend, Lord Saint Maur, will return with him; for so I may call Lieutenant Desmond, as only a few technicalities have to be gone through before he can properly a.s.sume the t.i.tle."

"Has he really gained the cause?" exclaimed Adair. "I am delighted, and grateful to Counsellor McMahon, without whose aid he would have had no chance of success."

"The counsellor has done his best, and his success has afforded him as much satisfaction as it can any one else," answered the lady, bowing.

"Indeed, it is a pleasure to have been of service to so excellent and delightful a young man as your nephew, Captain Adair."

Jack looked round to see whether any of the young ladies gave responsive looks to the encomiums pa.s.sed on Gerald. They all three smiled sweetly, with precisely the same expression, so that it would have required a better physiognomist than was Captain Rogers to have discovered what was pa.s.sing in their innocent minds.

"I fully believe that the counsellor was disinterested in the efforts he made to forward Desmond's cause," he thought to himself.

There was not much time for conversation before Counsellor McMahon, a round, ruddy-faced, white-haired, bright-eyed man, accompanied by Desmond, entered the room. He took Adair's hand in both his own and shook it cordially, saying in a hearty tone--

"I congratulate you, my dear captain, on your nephew's success."

"Oh, don't thank me; I merely took care justice was done--that's all a lawyer has to do, from his client's point of view at all events. We triumphed, as I knew we should, notwithstanding the forgeries, the falsehood, and the perjury brought in array against us. It was truly a satisfaction to fight in the cause of your nephew, who bore his blus.h.i.+ng honours with so much equanimity. I believe that had he lost, he would again have gone to sea and done his duty with as much zeal as ever.

Whether or not he will now return to tempt once more the tempest and the waves, not to speak of round shot and bullets, is more than I can say.

I only know that if I were in his place I should stick to _terra firma_.

But I never much admired a life on the ocean wave, albeit feeling the deepest respect for its gallant sons who hazard their lives in their country's cause."

The lawyer ran on, scarcely allowing Jack or Adair to get in a word. At last, however, they had an opportunity of congratulating Desmond on his good fortune.

He spoke very sensibly, and was evidently in no way unduly elated by his success. Jack rightly thought that he had been too busy to dream of making love to the lawyer's fair daughters, attractive as one and all of them were.

In a few minutes supper was announced, and Jack, as the senior officer, handed down the lady of the house, Desmond modestly slipping behind and refusing to move.

Mrs McMahon was affability itself, the counsellor brimful of jokes and good humour, laughing and talking for everybody else. On hearing that Jack and Adair had part of their families on board, he insisted that they should come on sh.o.r.e, and allow his wife to show them the lions of Dublin and its neighbourhood. "You'll not be going away without taking a drive into Wicklow, the most perfect paradise on the surface of the globe in my opinion," he added. "Carriages shall be in waiting for the ladies, and I'll take all the trouble off your hands."

So pressing an invitation was not to be refused. The various excursions Mrs McMahon and her friends made on sh.o.r.e need not be described. They were delighted with all they saw of the country, if not of Dublin itself and the Misses Murray at once declared that they should be perfectly ready to come and live in Ireland, though they had seen no spot which could equal Bercaldine.

As Captain Murray had to return to Ryde to take on board his younger children, before returning to Scotland, his stay in Dublin could not be prolonged. "We can give you a berth, Saint Maur, if you are inclined to take a trip to sea again, although we will not make you keep watch unless you specially wish it," he said, scarcely expecting, however, that the invitation would be accepted.

"I shall be delighted," answered Desmond; "I can spare a couple of weeks, as McMahon will not immediately require my signature and will do all that is necessary in the mean time. I feel as fond of the sea as ever, though I shall certainly not seek for employment, and may possibly retire and start a yacht next year if I can afford it, although on that score I am not very sanguine, as the old house, I understand, requires extensive repairs, and there is much to be done on the estate: decent cottages, instead of pigsties, to be built; land to be drained and fences put up--the tenantry must be looked after."

Murray, as the only way of returning the attentions he had received from Counsellor McMahon, took him, his wife, and daughters, a trip on board the _Stella_, their cruise being along the Wicklow coast, and highly delighted the young ladies were, though the counsellor acknowledged that he was much happier when the _Stella_ brought up in Kingstown Harbour, and he found himself at the dinner table in the comfortable cabin at perfect rest.

"It may be very pleasant for you young people to be tumbled and tossed about while you are gazing at the scenery of our incomparable mountains, but I confess that I can only enjoy the beauties of nature while I find my feet securely placed on _terra firma_," he remarked.

The following day, with a spanking breeze from the westward, the _Stella_ sailed on her return to the Isle of Wight. The fine weather continued until she had got clear of Scilly. While she was still in the chops of the Channel it fell a dead calm, and a thick fog came on.

There the _Stella_ lay, drifted slowly up by one tide and to the westward again by the other. Night came on. The officers agreed that they had never been in the Channel with such perfect darkness as hung over the water. Lights were hoisted, and a look-out kept for any steamers which might be coming up or down the Channel, although to get out of their way was impossible.

Captain Murray and his friends felt far more anxiety than they would have experienced had it been blowing a strong gale. The evening was unusually chilly. Moisture dropped from the sails and rigging, preventing the ladies from remaining on deck. Adair went below, as he said, to amuse them; but Murray, Jack, and Desmond remained looking out, ready to shout should they see a steamer approaching. Of sailing vessels there was no fear, for they, as was the _Stella_, would be becalmed.

"Oh, those horrible steam-kettles! I never before so heartily hated them as I do now. If one of them was to come thundering along now, without a bright look-out, she might be into us before our lights could be seen, or our warning shouts heard!" exclaimed Adair.

"Yes, indeed," answered Murray. "I'm almost inclined to get the ladies on deck and to have a boat lowered, in case a steamer should run into us. We should have a better hope of saving their lives, for the sides of a yacht are but ill able to withstand a blow from a steamer going at even a moderate speed; and some of those steam-boat skippers, provided they make a fast pa.s.sage, care very little what damage they may do to small craft in their way."

Murray, however, kept all fast. He felt ashamed of making preparations for a catastrophe which might never occur. Hour after hour pa.s.sed by, while they paced the deck with their hands in their pockets, whistling for a breeze. It was very trying, as they were in a hurry to get back.

"You had better go below, Saint Maur," said Murray; "there is no necessity for us all to remain on deck."

"Thank you; but I would rather a.s.sist in keeping a look-out, while either you or Captain Rogers turn in. I'll keep moving, though, for I feel it rather cold;" and Desmond continued walking up and down at a quick pace.

Captain Rogers at last said he would go below to see what the ladies were about, and to advise them to turn in.

Scarcely had his head descended below the companion hatch than Murray exclaimed--

"Here's a breeze at last! Its dead ahead though; but it will blow away the fog, I hope, and we shall be able to keep the yacht moving."

Two or three minutes, however, pa.s.sed before the vessel's sails, feeling the influence of the wind, enabled her to gather way. Contrary to Murray's expectations, the fog still hung as thickly as before above the water.

"Here, Murray, the ladies want you to settle a knotty point," exclaimed Jack, from the foot of the companion ladder.

Murray, seeing that the schooner had now got way on her, dived below.

Not a minute after, a crash was heard. He, followed by Jack, sprang on deck, when they saw a large dark hull, with a pyramid of canvas, rising above the deck, over the after part of which a long projecting bowsprit made a rapid sweep, tearing a hole through the mainsail, and carrying away the leech. They both instinctively sprang aft to the helm, the man at which had been knocked down. In another instant the schooner was clear, and the stranger had disappeared in the darkness.

Jack, taking the helm, kept it up, for the blow had brought the vessel to the wind, while Murray hastened to ascertain what damage had been done.

"She has only torn away our bulwarks, sir," cried Ben. "Try the well,"

said Murray.

Ben reported--

"She's making no water, but I don't know what she may do when we go on t'other tack."

"Clear the boats ready for lowering," exclaimed Murray.

That on the port side, however, was found to have been carried away, with the davits, and now hung crushed to pieces, held by the falls. The darkness prevented all the damage which had been done from being discovered for some time. Adair had remained a minute behind his friends, to quiet the alarm of the ladies, who were naturally somewhat agitated at hearing the sound caused by the collision. He now sprang on deck, just as Murray was ordering a boat to be lowered.

"Here, Desmond," he sang out, "lend me a hand at the after falls."

"Hold on!" cried Murray; "there's no necessity for lowering a boat.

There's no great damage done, after all, I hope; though it would have been the same to that big fellow, for no one on board him even hailed to know whether we required a.s.sistance."

The breeze was every instant freshening. The schooner heeled over to starboard.

"Where are you, Desmond?" exclaimed Adair.

No one answered.

"Good Heavens! where's Saint Maur?" cried Jack. "Can he have gone below?"

"That's not likely. Alick, where are you?" cried Captain Murray, the fearful idea occurring to him that some accident might have happened to his son.

"Here, sir," cried Alick, who had been forward talking to Ben s.n.a.t.c.hblock.