The Gentleman: A Romance of the SeaOllivant, Alfred
General
The Gentleman: A Romance of the Sea
Ollivant, Alfred
Fiction; Sea stories
This time there was no mistaking it--the noise of a boat's bow smashing
into seas.
Reuben brought his fist down with a thump.
"To the tick!"
Just then the cloud-drift parted. Through tatters of mist the moon
shone down.
II
Bowling out on the top of the tide came a lugger, the foam at her foot.
She was black in the moon, and barely a cable's length away.
"That her?" asked the gruff voice of the old Commander.
"That's the _Kite_, sir," answered Reuben. "Know her luff anywheres.
Foots it like a witch, and handles like a lady. A boy could sail her;
and she'll carry farty at a pinch."
The old Commander watched her across the glimmering waters.
"Means havin it," he said with a grunt half of admiration, half of
satisfaction.
"Ah, that's Diamond, sir!" answered the other. "God A'mighty couldn't
stop him once he's set."
The old Commander measured the lessening distance between him and his
prey.
"I shall keep as I go," he said deliberately. "Reck'n he'll do
the same. We oughter meet. But if he should scrape through, why let
him have it nice and hearty as he goes under my bows."
"Ay, ay, sir."
He stumped aft; while the men rammed down their sou-westers.
III
"I'll lay I bag Fat George in the belly," said one, spitting leisurely,
as he fingered his musket.
"I'll lay you don't then," retorted another.
"I'll lay you couldn't miss it," chipped in a wag.
There was a rumble of laughter, quickly hushed.
The boy among them sniggered, to vindicate his courage.
How brave they were! and what beasts! They made him sick, and filled
him with admiration. He should like to be like that--to feel nothing;
to see nothing; to loll up against the side and spit about, and make
bad jokes, a minute before he took the life of a brother man. That
was fine: that was manhood. One day, please God, he would be the same.
He peeped at the lugger. She was holding on, hard-driven, a long-boat
with high-cocked nose tearing astern.
The big ship was bearing down on her like a hawk on a sparrow. It was
bullying but O! was it not glorious? The old thrill, the thrill of
thrills, incomparable, made him tremble. He was manhunting once more.
"He'll carry the sticks out of her," muttered one of the men. "Crackin
along all sail--capsize or no."
"He may crack along," said another. "He's done. Black Diamond's done."
The sea flopped in the moon. Here and there a gathering swell hissed
into foam. The _Tremendous_ scarcely felt it; but the lugger lay
over on her side, seams dripping, and thrashed furiously along.
Her crew, squatting along the weather gunwale, turned bowed and shining
backs to the sloop.
Only the man at the tiller had seen her; and he made no sign.
The moon was on his face, black and white and bearded; and his eyes
on the sloop.
"Calm chap!" whispered one.
"Plucky meat," replied another. "Guts like a lion on him."
"Which is Black Diamond?" asked the boy.
"Him at the tiller, sir--moon on his face. He's seen us. 'Tothers
ain't--not yet."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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