CHAPTER X.
FOR ONE NIGHT AT THE AZORES.
In heading for the Antilles there were several routes which they couldtake.
It was possible to make a bee line almost due south-west, stopping atthe Azores on the way; or they could follow the plan adopted by Spainin sending her ships of war across, heading almost due south to theCanary islands, then on nearly the same course until the Cape Verdeswere reached, after which a run to the west would bring them to thePorto Rico coast.
Roderic was much interested in this matter and held many consultationswith the old captain as to what line he had marked out.
Perhaps--for somehow our purely selfish personal ends will cropup despite us--he was speculating as to what chances they had ofovertaking the blockade runner, should they have decided upon the samecourse.
There are always so many possibilities governing these things.
Though the ocean appears limitless, there are times when people cometogether in a most remarkable manner.
Fate takes a hand in many a game and this seemingly boundless seabecomes as a veritable mill pond, where boys float their rafts and havecollisions.
Roderic learned that their course was to be laid by way of the Azores,those sentinels of the vasty deep that lie far out in midocean betweenthe two warring countries, the United States and Spain.
He spent a portion of the first morning afloat in examining the vesselfrom keel to truck so to speak, and was loud in his praise of herstanch abilities.
She had been built on the Clyde, and was of course put togetherto stay--those canny Scots have a faculty for making timbers holdtogether through hurricane blows and all manner of extreme usage, thatis unexcelled in any other part of the world, so that the very namecarries weight; as does the Belfast engine, some of which on old WhiteStar liners have done noble duty a score and a half of years.
Roderic's praise was so unstinted that the old captain, who loved hiscraft as only a seaman may, was quite tickled.
He had taken a great liking for Owen, which was not at all strange,for they were both men built very much upon the same model, possessingsterling characteristics.
Perhaps it was apt to become something of a mutual admiration society,for Roderic recognized a kindred spirit--what he admired in a man andsought to exemplify in his own person was present in the composition ofthis rough and ready British sailorman.
It also pleased him to know Cleo had been fortunate enough to securesuch a reliable mariner, and yet he realized this was as much theresult of good judgment on her part as any luck.
At least he would never suspect that the Virginia maid had immediatelyfancied the grim old mariner because she discovered many of hissterling characteristics to be the same as those she had admired inRoderic from boyhood.
That was her secret which she would hardly have acknowledged even toher own heart.
The weather too was propitious.
A splendid breeze blew, and as they were provided with sails, thesewere utilized in order to further increase their speed.
Roderic gloried in the fact that he had never been sea sick a minutein his life, and he had also seen some pretty rough times afloat, frombeing caught in a dreadful typhoon in the China sea to being wrecked bya West India hurricane.
He had provided himself with Clarke Russell's latest ocean yarn,and as his own condition was fully equal to that so aptly describedby this wizard of sea stories, he could doubly appreciate the vividdescriptions of storm and calm, hot chase and wreck, and all themanifold phases of life on the boundless deep, given in a manner thathas never been rivaled.
They also played shuffle board, tossed deck quoits and amusedthemselves as pilgrims on the briny ocean learn to do when time hangsheavy.
Roderic read aloud some of the most remarkable passages which bore thewitchery of pen genius, and glancing up at the swelling white sails oraround at the watery horizon only marked by a wave crest circle, theywere in a position to feel the vigor of the description such as nolandsman, lounging in a hammock, far from the sea, which mayhap he hadnever gazed upon, could ever experience.
Numerous vessels were sighted during the first day, steamers andsailing craft.
There is always keen pleasure watching these pilgrims of the deepthrough the glasses and surmising what they are, the nature of theircargo, whence they come and whither bound.
After this day such sights would become more rare, for their course wasout of the usual transatlantic run.
Doubtless in the good old days when galleons laden with silver andother treasures from the Spanish Main and Mexican mines were on thisroute to Spain, many a piratical craft bore along this self same coursewith men alow and aloft on the keen lookout for rich prizes which couldbe looted, and scuttled with their wretched crews, their fate ever toremain one of the mysteries of the mighty deep.
Such romantic thoughts crept into Roderic's mind--the situation wasconducive to their inception.
Besides, his own fortunes were really as much tinged with the spicyflavor of adventure and romance as any he could imagine in connectionwith those olden days.
Another day and they apparently owned the earth--at least from sunriseto sunset not a vessel was sighted going in any direction.
The spouting of whales, the gyrations of sharks indicated by thesword-like dorsal fin sticking out of the water, and such aquaticfeatures were all that broke the monotony of the livelong day.
Roderic many times scanned the horizon ahead, and the sight of adistant steamer was enough to arouse his eager interest, for he couldnot get it out of his mind that the girl he so passionately loved wassomewhere on that vast deep, and there was always a possibility of thespeedy steam yacht overtaking the slower blockade runner.
Some people hang their faith on small things, lovers especially.
It is possible to find a needle in a haystack, and yet it would hardlypay one to devote a great length of time in the search.
However, lusty hope buoys the heart up, and often leads to wonderfulaccomplishments.
A change came in the weather.
One can not always expect favoring winds and clear skies on the fretfulAtlantic--the storms will blow in summer as well as during the coldseason.
Cleo had assured Roderic of her faith in the Dreadnaught as a stanchboat in case of rough weather.
He found the yacht more seaworthy than he had believed possible.
She rode the mighty rollers like a duck, and at no time was theredanger aboard.
Still, this was only a sample of what the old Atlantic could kick up onoccasion, and no matter how good the boat, one who has experienced thehorrors of a genuine hurricane while afloat, never feels a hankeringafter its repetition--there is a majesty about the mighty deep whenaroused to fury that awes the stoutest human heart; and those who havesailed over its trackless wastes the longest have the greatest respectfor its sovereignty.
Of course the storm drove them out of their expected direct routeto the Portuguese Azores, and delayed their arrival at the sentinelislands.
Although these islands be along the short route from Spain to her WestIndia possessions,--to be hers no longer--as a usual thing ships fromthe mother country prefer the longer passage, partly because the runsare more broken, the wind more apt to be favorable, and possibly forthe reason that some of her fortified possessions, the Canaries lie offthe coast of northern Africa.
Thus, not a great business has been done at the Azores under the bestof conditions, and this was interfered with while the war lasted, asSpanish craft feared to sail so far away from fortified ports, lestsome of the fast auxiliary cruisers of Uncle Sam, on the eager lookoutfor prizes, gobble them up.
As they sighted land, Roderic could hardly conceal his impatience.
Was the Sterling Castle in port?
That would be a strange coincidence truly, and yet this sanguine loverhad the nerve to believe it might be true.
Upon some men fortune showers favors so readily that they becomerank optimists, and expect
astonishing results from the most scantyscattering of seed.
Indeed, chance plays quite a part in their calculations.
The day was almost at its close when they drew near the islands.
With the rosy bloom of the setting sun shining upon their green slopes,the picture was one calculated to strike the eye as remarkably fine.
Especially would this be the case with an ocean traveler who for somedays had looked upon nothing but a watery waste--the green trees andgrass appeal to his heart. This is always the case after a voyage--landlooks doubly inviting when necessity or desire for a change has takenus away from friendly shores.
The night fell before they drew close enough to port to give Rodericthe opportunity of finding out whether the steamer he sought was amongthose anchored in the little bay.
Which was a keen disappointment to him.
As an ardent lover much allowance can be given so good a fellow.
Cleo was almost as eager--she felt a warm desire to look upon hersuccessful rival face to face. There was no mean design in this, nohope of being able to find fault, or discover that Roderic had made awretched choice.
She realized how furiously in love with the girl from Porto Rico thiscousin of hers was, and since she had been unable to arouse such apassion within his breast, naturally she experienced a genuine desireto look upon the lovely being who had awakened the sacred fire in hisbachelor heart.
Then again, Cleo was honest in her expressed desire to be friendly withone whom fortune seemed destined to make her cousin.
Glasses were of little avail, since night's shadows had begun to fall.
It would not be dark, since a young July moon still held forth after afashion, to show them the way into port.
A peculiar uneasiness had possessed Roderic.
It dated from the conclusion of the blow.
Somehow, when looking upon the last most violent efforts of theminiature hurricane, the thought had occurred to him, what of theSterling Castle?
Was she also exposed to this storm?
The chances seemed to favor such a conclusion.
He began to make new inquiries concerning her sea worthiness.
Was her crew English or Spanish?
If the latter he had grave doubts.
Captain Beven was able to give him some information that eased his mind.
The steamer while mature in years was not an old hulk, by anymeans--Beven had himself once served on her as second officer duringa voyage to Singapore, and he had reason to commend her seaworthyqualities.
As to her present outfit he believed it was mostly English and Swedes,though there might be a few Spanish among them.
The captain was an ancient tar, a dare devil who had seen service allover the earth, been engaged in South American naval wars, was withChina in her conflict against Japan, and bore the scars of a dozenwounds.
Such a man, afraid of nothing on earth, made an ideal blockade runner.
The bold Yankees would find that they did not quite monopolize all thevalor on earth with their Hobsons and Deweys.
There were others, of the same strain and speech, whom no danger coulddaunt.
This was Captain Beven's tribute to the commander of the blockaderunner.
Roderic was not sorry to hear it, since _she_ would be safer in thecharge of such a wonderful seaman.
He went down to dinner in this state of anxiety, but under the livelysallies of his cousin soon recovered his usual good spirits. Cleo couldarouse him more quickly than any one else he knew--she seemed to appealto some chord in his composition which responded just as the harpdoes to the touch of the musician. When they came on deck again afterdinner, the little steam yacht was just entering the harbor.
Captain Beven, knowing how fond the Portuguese are of ceremonyand display, fired his little cannon in salute as they passed thepicturesque old fort and castle guarding the bay, and after a littledelay, quite excusable with the Portuguese gunners, an answering salvocame from the frowning battlements that, seen in daylight were probablynot one quarter as dangerous looking as they appeared under the tenderlight of the young moon.
They found an anchorage among other shipping, where they could swing atanchor.
At the most only a short stop was intended here.
They would take on board fresh water, some fruits and vegetables,together with chickens and eggs.
During the few hours in the morning while this was being done, Rodericand his cousin expected to go ashore and see what the place of whichthey had frequently heard yet never seen, looked like.
They could easily give a guess.
There is a striking similarity among all ports under Spanish andPortuguese flags.
The picturesque struggles with disorder--from a little distance theview is entrancing, but familiarity breeds contempt.
Especially is this true with the rank odors that usually predominate.
With twinkling lights on shore, a balmy breeze fanning their cheeks,and the odor of flowers wafted over the water, it was very romanticto stand upon the deck of the yacht, anchored in still waters, afterhaving passed so many days upon the heaving deep.
Nor was there any lack of sound.
Men's voices floated over the water, laughter was heard from partiesof pleasure seekers in small boats, and from various quarters came thesound of music.
Sweet indeed do the notes of mandolin or guitar sound when mellowed bythe water--there is a peculiar richness and sympathy to the strummingof the taut strings that cannot be produced under other conditions.
Besides, the poetry of the thing appeals to what is romantic in theheart.
Lovers delight to glide upon the moonlit water.
No wonder then that Venice with her canals and gondolas should beclassed as a veritable Paradise for such devoted people.
Roderic smoked his last cigar strong in the hope of replenishing hisstock on the morrow.
A band situated upon some open plaza discoursed military music, and atthat distance even carping critics found little fault.
The evening was gliding away.
It passed with leaden wings to Roderic, whose ardent spirit longed forthe first streak of dawn, in the anticipation of being able to discoverwhether or not the vessel that bore Georgia was in the harbor.
There was something almost unendurable in the suspense, and it requiredconsiderable determination to crush down the spirit that demanded someimmediate action on his part.
He had been compelled to go back to the comforts of his more plebeianpipe, nor did its solace fail to soothe his troubled spirit.
Thus time slipped away.
Four bells had struck.
Ere long they would be thinking of seeking their berths, and for oneRoderic confessed that the summons would not come amiss.
He yawned several times as though he had not yet been able to make upthe sleep lost while they were in the grasp of the storm, when allhands found it impossible to remain in their bunks.
Truth to tell he was thinking that sleep would bridge over the timeuntil dawn, and cause him to forget his anxieties.
The lights still glimmered, nor had the sounds of music and revelryabated one particle.
Night to the average Spanish mind means a period for chasing dull careaway in music, the dance and carousal.
While Roderic sat thus, his thoughts flitting from one subject toanother, since no one had spoken for quite some time, a figureapproached which he recognized upon glancing up as belonging to CaptainBeven.
As the mariner stooped over him he electrified Owen with the few wordshe softly uttered.
"Sir, I have reason to believe the steamer Sterling Castle lies atanchor just off our port quarter!"
Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos Page 10
