« ForrigeFortsæt »
played to their view, and the ship-of-war in which they were to embark appeared all ready for starting, anchored at the distance of half a mile from the Beach,
O'Hara having fallen back with M.Greggor, entreated to know if in any manner he could be serviceable to him: among other plans, he hinted that of his leaving the Army at some future time, and settling with him in Ireland,
The Ensign having cleared his throat, said, with strong emphasis, “ I need na sae how much I feel obligated to you, Major O'Hara, but I have been too lang in the trade to leave sodjering while I'm able to follow it ; and while my poor Captain lived, nane was happier than M‘Greggor. His death I lament sair. As to the present man, (beggin his Lordship’s pardon,) I suppose he will not mind us much. Mr. Malowney, and the others, (baith countrymen of my ain,) are fine pleasant young gentlemen to serve with."
O'Hara inquired how they agreed in the Company ?
“Weel, right weel," said the Ensign, “ we are about half and half Irish and Scotch mixed
thegither, and we agree like brothers. Your lads, Major, are blithe and winsome; better soldiers, and prettier men, never wore a wingwhen some odd time they get a bit in liquor, they may be wild and fractious, but they sorrow much afterwards if they hae done ony thing amiss; when they're an service, nane can bare cauld an' hardships merrier; and, by my soul, they are always readier for the fight than the frolic ; but here comes the boat."
A barge, pulling eight oars, came rapidly ashore, with a Lieutenant in the stern sheets, to conduct his distinguished passengers on board. The Major and his Lady having affectionately taken leave of their honest escort, embarked with their little suite, and soon the happy party pushed off from the beach, and bade an eternal adieu to the hostile shores of Columbia.
- The gale aloft
A MIXTURE of painful and pleasurable feelings occupied the mind of the Major and his wife, as they wayed a last adieu to their military friends still lingering on the beach. This chain of melancholy musing was broken by the 'discharge of a gun from the frigate, while, at the same time, a blue-and-white flag, flying at the mast-head, disappeared, and the fore-top-sail was thrown loose,—the well-known signal for sailing. The Rosario, to use sea-language, lay " all-a-tant,” and was hove short to a single anchor, waiting for the boat and passengers. The barge pulled up rapidly, and, as it approached the ship, no confusion indicated that any particular business was going forward. The decks and tops were crowded with men, who seemed quite unoccupied ; and such was the silence of all, that a rope’s-end striking a timber-head would not have passed unnoticed. At the “ weigh-enough” of the lieutenant, the oars were quickly stowed, and the whip, or chair of state, being lowered to receive the lady, she found herself, in a few moments, on board an English frigate, and received in form by the celebrated Captain De Clifford.
The Rosario, of 36 guns, was the finest vessel of that class in the service. She displayed a fine sample of the navy of Great Britain: a beautiful mould,-complete equipment, gallant crew, and dashing commander. De Clifford was promoted to his ship over the heads of many older officers; but his appointment was as honourable to the Navy-Board as to himself. His short and brilliant career had brought him nobly before the eyes of his country, and the promotion which followed was only due to his deserts. He welcomed his guests
with all the ease and openness of a sailor, mingled with the native elegance of a gentleman, which a sincerity in his politeness told was the language more of the heart than the lips.
De Clifford was commonly called in England " the handsome sailor;" and, as his fair passenger viewed the manly and animated beauty of his face, joined to a tall figure of fine proportions, she thought, excepting her husband, she had never seen so handsome a man.
The boat was taken on board, and the signal made for starting. The crowd of human beings, who but just before were motionless as statues, were, in an instant, actively employed. The anchor was brought to the bows
by the run,” the helm put down, and the head-sails set like magic, and, as she canted round, the stops were cast off, the top-sails sheeted home, and the vessel, so lately riding quietly at anchor, was seen, in a few minutes, under a press of sail, standing out of Boston Bay.
Congenial spirits, like the Captain of the frigate, and his military passenger, were soon