The glass is firm, and I think we
shall do well for days to come. Mind you oblige us, sir."
And next morning, as the boats met by the side of the carrier, there was
much gossip, and many mysterious messages passed. Blair told Skipper
Freeman what the Admiral wanted, and the good man grinned hard. "Right,
sir; your time's your own. I'll manage."
The dusk drooped early; a fair breeze was blowing, and the swift
schooner loitered with the smacks. Freeman sent up a rocket, the
schooner's foresail was let over, and she rustled away through the
squadron of brown-sailed craft.
"What's that, Freeman?" asked Blair, as a rocket shot up from the
Admiral's vessel.
"You'll see, sir, presently."
The schooner lay hard over when the big topsails were put on her, and
drew past one smack after another. Then a dingy vessel broke suddenly
into spots of fire; then another, then another. Flares, torches--every
kind of illumination was set going; the hands turned up, and a roar that
reverberated from ship to ship was carried over the water. The very
canopy of light haze looked fiery; the faces of the men flashed like
pallid or scarlet phantoms; the russet sails took every tint of crimson
and orange and warm brown, and from point to point of the horizon a
multitude of flames threw shaking shafts of light that glimmered far
down and splendidly incarnadined the multitudinous sea.
Every ship's company cheered vociferously, and the yacht tore on amid
clamour that might have scared timid folk.
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