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_Thursday, September 28th_,--A fine bright morning, with a strong,
fair wind. The order to stop firing was given at noon, and we ceased
steaming shortly after. There had evidently been a gale from the
southward during the last few days, for the swell was tremendous, and
not only made us all feel very uncomfortable after our long stay in
harbour, but considerably diminished our speed. Still, we managed to
go twenty-seven knots in two hours and a half.
I was lying down, below, after breakfast, feeling very stupid, when
Mabelle rushed into the cabin, saying, 'Papa says you are to come up
on deck at once, to see the ship on fire.' I rushed up quickly, hardly
knowing whether she referred to our own or some other vessel, and on
reaching the deck I found everybody looking at a large barque, under
full sail, flying the red union-jack upside down, and with signals in
her rigging, which our signal-man read as 'Ship on fire.' These were
lowered shortly afterwards, and the signals, 'Come on board at once,'
hoisted in their place. Still we could see no appearance of smoke or
flames, but we nevertheless hauled to the wind, tacked, hove to, and
sent off a boat's crew, well armed, thinking it not impossible that a
mutiny had taken place on board and that the captain or officers,
mistaking the yacht for a gunboat, had appealed to us for assistance.
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