Carette of Sark Part 24

"Tuts! How did she look, boy? A girl tells more with her face and her eyes than with her tongue, even when they say opposite things."

"I'm not sure how she took it, Aunt Jeanne. How would you have taken it, now?"

"Ma fe! It would depend," she laughed, her old face creasing up with merriment. "If it was Monsieur Right I wouldn't have minded maybe, though I might be a bit taken aback at the newest way in courting."

"Well, I thought she looked something like that. And then, afterwards, I wasn't sure she wasn't angry about it. I don't know. I've had so little to do with girls, you see."

"And you'd not know much more, however much you'd had. You're only a boy still, mon gars."

"Well, I'm going to do a man's work, and it's for Carette I'm going to do it. Put in a good word for me while I'm away, won't you now, Aunt Jeanne?

Carette is more to me than anything else in the world."

"Ay, well! We'll see. And you saw Torode himself?"

And I told her all I had to tell about Torode, and John Ozanne, whom she had known as a boy.

"He was always good-hearted was John, but a bit slow and easy-going," said she. "But we'll hope for the best."

"Will Carette be across in the next day or two?"

"I doubt it. Those two who got hurt will need her. If you don't see her you shall leave me a kiss for her," she chirped.

"I'll give you a dozen now," I cried, jumping up, and giving her the full tale right heartily.

"Ma fe, yes! You are getting on, mon gars," she said, as she set the black sun-bonnet straight again. "You tackle Carette that way next time you see her, and--"

"Mon Gyu, I wouldn't dare to!" And Aunt Jeanne still found me subject for laughter.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW WE CAME ACROSS MAIN ROUGE

I was sorely tempted to run across to Brecqhou for one more sight of Carette before I left home, but decided at last to leave matters as they were. Beyond the pleasure of seeing her I could hope to gain little, for she was not the one to show her heart before others, and too rash an endeavour might provoke her to that which was not really in her.

As things were I could cherish the hopes that were in me to the fullest, and one makes better weather with hope than with doubt. Carette knew now all that I could tell her, and Aunt Jeanne would be a tower of strength to me in my absence. I could leave the leaven to work. And I think that if I had not given my mother that last day she would have felt it sorely, and with reason.

The deepest that was in us never found very full vent at Belfontaine, and that, I think, was due very largely to the quiet and kindly, but somewhat rigid, Quakerism of my grandfather. We felt and knew without babbling into words.

So all that day my mother hovered about me with a quiet face and hungry eyes, but never one word that might have darkened my going. She had braced her heart to it, as the women of those days had to do, and as all women of all times must whose men go down to the sea in s.h.i.+ps.

And I do not think there was any resentment in her mind at my feeling for Carette. For she spoke of her many times and always in the nicest way, seeing perhaps the pleasure it gave me. She was a very wise and thoughtful woman, though not so much given to the expression of her wisdom as was Jeanne Falla, and I think she understood that this too was inevitable, and so she had quietly brought her mind to it. But after all, all this is but saying that her tower of quiet strength was built on hidden foundations of faith and hope, and her mother-love needed no telling.

Next day my grandfather and Krok made holiday, in order to carry me over to Peter Port and see the _Swallow_ for themselves, and my mother's fervent "G.o.d keep you, Phil!" and all the other prayers that I felt in her arms round my neck, were with me still as we ran past Brecqhou, and I stood with an arm round the mast looking eagerly for possible, but unlikely, sight of Carette.

We were too low down to see the house, which lay in a hollow. The white waves were ripping like comets along the fringe of ragged rocks under the great granite cliffs, and our boat reeled and plunged under the strong west wind, and sent the foam flying in sheets as we tacked against the cross seas.

We were running a short slant past Moie Batarde, before taking a long one for the Grands Bouillons, when a flutter of white among the wild black rocks of the point by the Creux a Vaches caught my eye, and surely it was Carette herself, though whether she had known of our pa.s.sage, or was in the habit of frequenting that place, I could not tell. I took it to myself, however, and waved a hearty greeting, and the last sight I had of her, and could not possibly have had a better, was her hand waving farewells in a way that held much comfort for me for many a day to come. I had told my grandfather about Torode's fine schooner, and had enlarged so upon it that he had a wish to see her for himself, and so we were making for the pa.s.sage between Herm and Jethou, which I had travelled two days before. He knew the way and the traps and pitfalls better even than I did, and ran us in up the wind with a steady hand till the roadstead opened before us. But it was empty. Torode was off after plunder, and we turned and ran for Peter Port.

We found John Ozanne as busy as a big b.u.mble-bee, but he made time to greet my grandfather very jovially, and showed him all over his little s.h.i.+p with much pride. He was in high spirits and anxious to be off, especially since he had heard of Torode's going.

"He's about as clever as men are made," he said, "and when he goes he goes on business, so it's time for us to be on the move too. We'll make a man of your boy, Philip."

"A privateer!" said my grandfather with a smile.

"Ay, well! I can believe it's not all to your liking, but it's natural after all."

"I'm not complaining."

"I never heard you. But you'd have been better pleased if he hadn't wanted so much."

"Maybe," said my grandfather with his quiet smile. "But, as Jeanne Falla says, 'Young calves'--"

"I know, I know," laughed John Ozanne. "She's a famous wise woman is Jeanne Falla, and many a licking she gave me when I was a boy for stealing her apples round there at Cobo."

When my grandfather waved his hand, as they ran out past Castle Cornet, the last link broke between Sercq and myself for many a day. Before I saw any of them again--except the distant sight of the Island lying like a great blue whale nuzzling its young, as we pa.s.sed up Little Russel next morning--many things had happened for the changing of many lives. I had seen much, suffered much, and learned much, and it is of these things I have to tell you.

We cast off next day, amid the cheers and wavings of a great crowd. Half Peter Port stood on the walls of the old harbour. Some had friends and relatives on board, and their shoutings were akin to l.u.s.ty, veiled prayers for their safe return. Some had eggs in our basket, and in wis.h.i.+ng us good speed were not without an eye to the future, and maybe were already counting their possible chickens. We gave them cheer for cheer, and more again for the St. Sampson people. Then, with all our new swing making a gallant show, we swept past Grand Braye, and Ancresse, and turned our nose to the north-west.

We were all in the best of spirits. The _Swallow_ was well found and well armed, and showed a livelier pair of heels than I had looked for, and that, in an Ishmaelitish craft, was a consideration and a comfort. She was roomy too, and would make better times of bad weather, I thought, than would Torode's beautiful black snake. We were sixty men all told, and every man of us keen for the business we were on, and with sufficient confidence in John Ozanne to make a willing crew, though among us there were not lacking good-humoured jokes anent his well-known easy-going, happy-go-lucky proclivities. These, however, would make for comfort on board, and for the rest, he was a good seaman and might be expected to do his utmost to justify the choice of his fellow-townsmen, and he was said to have a considerable stake in the matter himself.

We had four mates, all tried Peter Port men, and our only fears were as to possible lack of the enemy's merchant s.h.i.+ps in quant.i.ty and quality sufficient for our requirements. On the second day out, a slight haze on the sky-line shortening our view, the sound of firing came down to us on the wind, and John Ozanne promptly turned the _Swallow's_ beak in that direction.

We edged up closer and closer, and when the haze lifted, came on a hot little fight in progress between a big s.h.i.+p and a small one, and crowded the rigging and bulwarks to make it out.

"Little chap's a Britisher, I'll wager you," said old Martin Cohu, the bo's'un.

"A privateer then, and t'other a merchantman."

"Unless it's t'other way on. Anyway the old man will make 'em out soon;"

and we anxiously eyed John Ozanne working away with his big bra.s.s-bound telescope, as we slanted up towards the two s.h.i.+ps, first on one tack then on the other.

The larger vessel's rigging we could see was badly mauled, the smaller s.h.i.+p dodged round and round her, and off and on, plugging her as fast as the guns could be loaded and fired.

"That's no merchantman," said old Martin. "A French Navy s.h.i.+p--a corvette--about fifteen guns a-side maybe, and t'other's an English gun brig; making rare game of her she is too. Minds me of a dog and a bull."

"Maybe the old man'll take a hand just for practice."

And John Ozanne was quite willing. We were ordered to quarters, and ran in, with our colours up, prepared to take our share. But the commander of the brig had his own ideas on that matter, strong ones too, and he intimated them in the most unmistakable way by a shot across our bows, as a hint to us to mind our own business and leave him to his.

A hoa.r.s.e laugh and a ringing cheer went up from the _Swallow_ at this truly bull-dog spirit, and we drew off and lay-to to watch the result.

The Frenchman was fully three times the size of his plucky little antagonist, but the Englishman as usual had the advantage in seamans.h.i.+p. He had managed to cripple his enemy early in the fight, and now had it all his own way. We watched till the Frenchman's colours came down, then gave the victors another hearty cheer, and went on our way to seek fighting of our own.

For three days we never sighted a sail. We had turned south towards the Bay, and were beginning to doubt our luck, when, on the fourth day, a stiff westerly gale forced us to bare poles. During the night it waxed stronger still, and the little _Swallow_ proved herself well. Next morning a long line of great s.h.i.+ps went gallantly past us over the roaring seas, shepherded by two stately frigates,--an East Indian convoy homeward bound.

Late that day, the fifth of our cruising, we raised the topmasts of a large s.h.i.+p and made for her hopefully.