The Pirate of the Mediterranean: A Tale of the Sea Read online

  Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

  The Pirate of the Mediterranean, a Tale of the Sea, by W.H.G. Kingston.

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  A long book--nineteen hours--full of adventure and tense situations. Iwas a bit disappointed to find that the Pirate was a Greek who preyedmostly upon Italian, Greek and Turkish vessels in the EasternMediterranean, because I had hoped that Kingston would address himselfto the problem in the previous century, where Barbary and Algerinepirates were harrying European craft, taking their passengers prisoneras slaves, whom they used to carry out the building works of theircities.

  Nevertheless, it is another admirable book from the pen of a greatauthor, and I recommend it to you.

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  THE PIRATE OF THE MEDITERRANEAN, A TALE OF THE SEA, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.

  CHAPTER ONE.

  Malta, which I have selected as the opening scene of the followingstory, is, from its historical recollections, its fine climate, andbrilliant skies, a very interesting spot; although, for such beauty asits scenery possesses, it must be acknowledged that it is indebted verymuch more to art than to nature. Notwithstanding, however, the noise ithas made in the world, and will, I suspect, should we ever be driveninto a war with our vivacious continental neighbour, again make, it isbut a rock some twenty miles long, and twelve broad, in the middle ofthe Mediterranean, with a smaller rock, Gozo, to the north of it, andwas, probably, at one time of this planet's existence, merely acontinuation of Sicily or Italy's toe, or a lump, as it were, kicked offinto the middle of the sea. If, also, report speaks true, the very soilwhich gives verdure to its valleys, and nourishes its sweet-scentedorange-groves, was imported from richer lands; yet, notwithstandingthis, a larger number of inhabitants of every religion, colour, andcostume, continue to exist on its surface, than on any similar-sizedportion of the globe. But in its capital, Valetta, with its magnificentfortifications, and superb harbour, are centred its chief attractions,and which have gained for it a name imperishable on the page of historyas the bulwark of Christendom, against the pagan hosts of the Saracens.

  But as my tale is with the present rather than with the past, I will notstop to describe how, when it was called Mileta, Saint Paul landed onthe island,--how the Vandals and Goths took possession of it, and weredriven out by Belisarius,--how in 1530, the Knights of Saint John ofJerusalem, driven away from Rhodes, here settled,--how they built afortress which withstood the mighty army of the Turks, and how thosegallant gentlemen hurled back the infidels defeated and disgraced,--howthey at length degenerated, and its inhabitants, deceived by treacheryfrom within and without their gates, yielded their liberty to the greatenemy of Europe, Buonaparte, and were unmercifully ill-treated, andpillaged,--and how, in the year 1800, with the the aid of an Englishfleet and a small English army, they drove out their conquerors, and putthemselves under the protection of Great Britain.

  How Mr Cameron was first Civil Commissioner, and was succeeded by SirAlexander Ball, a man justly endeared to the inhabitants as the sharerof their toils and victory,--how he was followed by Sir HildebrandOakes, after whom reigned, as their first Governor, for eleven years,commencing in 1813, Sir Thomas Maitland, called by irreverent lips, KingTom; a gallant soldier, and the terror of ill-doers, on whose deceasethe Marquis of Hastings and General Ponsonby successively became chiefs.

  It was during the time that one of the three last-mentioned governorsruled the land, that the events I am about to narrate took place, and asit is in the capital, Valetta, and its magnificent harbour, that ourscene more particularly lies, it is somewhat important that the readershould have them described to him.

  Valetta is situated on that side of the island which faces thenorth-east, though towards the southern end of it. The harbour is of avery peculiar shape, and if the reader should not happen to possess achart of it, he may form one by placing his left hand on the table, withthe fingers separated as widely as possible from the middle finger: thenlet him bend up the third finger of his right hand, and place, widelyapart, the tips of the others over the forefinger of his left hand. Themiddle finger of his left hand is Valetta, with Saint Elmo Castle on thenail, and its palaces and ramparts running along up to the knuckles.The space on the right is the Great Port, and on the left, Port MarsaMusceit, or the Quarantine Harbour. The tip of the little finger of theright hand is Port Ricasoli. On the bent-up third finger is the BighiPalace, now a naval hospital, built by Napoleon as a residence forhimself. The middle finger is the Burgh, with Port Saint Angelo at theend. The fore-finger is called Isola, with the Cotonera fortificationsat the knuckle, and the thumb is denominated Carodino, where thePalatario is situated, while the spaces between each of the fingers aresmaller harbours of great depth and security; and from Port SaintAngelo, numerous tiers of frowning batteries completely enfilade theentrance of the harbour--the approach to which is further defended byForts Saint Elmo and Ricasoli. On the opposite side of Port MarsaMusceit, are two forts--Port Tigne at the entrance, and Fort Manuel; andthere are several indentations, but of less depth and importance thanthose to the south. Besides the forts I have mentioned, the city isprotected by the Floriana lines, and several other works. Indeed, it issaid that there are sixty miles length of walls, which, in theseeconomical times, are allowed slowly to crumble away. If our merchantsvalue their trade with the East--if our rulers value our possession ofIndia--if our philanthropists value the civilisation of the world, andthe continuance of peace, let not Malta be neglected. To open the dooris not the way to keep out a thief.

  Valetta is a place of life, bustle, and animation. The Maltese are abusy people, given to gesticulation; and it is full of naval andmilitary officers, and soldiers, and sailors, who are not addicted toquietude, especially the latter; and there are Greeks, and Moors, andSpaniards, and Italians, and Jews innumerable, congregated there, andpriests and friars of all orders, who delight in the ringing of bells,so that silence is little known in this city of ramparts, steps, bigguns, and churches. The streets are wide and handsome; those runningalong the middle finger, as I have described, are on a level, whilethose which lead up from the water are at right angles to them, and areoccasionally steep, so that, in most instances, they consist of a broadflight of steps, the best known of which are the Nix Mangiare stairs,leading from the chief landing-place at the Great Port to the upper partof the town. The houses are balconied, lofty, and spacious, withterraces on the roofs, whence, in clear weather, Etna is visible; andwhere, in the cool of the evening, the inhabitants may enjoy therefreshing breeze from the sea, and behold it, in its intense blueness,dotted with white sails gliding in all directions over its surface. Itis full of fine churches, the towers of which rise above the flat roofsof the palace-like houses, the whole surrounded by a broad walk, and afringe of ramparts bristling with cannon.

  It is to that part of the fortifications facing the mouth of the GreatPort that I particularly wish to conduct the reader.

  It was some four hours or so past noon when the boat of a Britishman-of-war ran in alongside the landing-place at the fort of NixMangiare stairs, and out of her stepped two persons, whose blue jackets,adorned with crown-and-anchor buttons, and the patches of white cloth ontheir cohars proclaimed them to belong to the exalted rank of midshipmenin the Royal Navy. But many might envy the free joyous laugh in whichthey indulged, seemingly on finding themselves on shore, and the lightelastic tread with which they sprang up the long flight of steps beforethem, distancing, in a moment, several civilians and soldiers of variousranks, who, puffin
g and blowing, with handkerchiefs at their foreheads,were toiling upwards, while they arrived at the summit without evengiving way to a gasp, and as cool, apparently, as when they landed.Their ears, as they went up, were saluted by--

  "_Yah hassare, carita_--Nix mangiar these ten days, sar--Mi moder himdie plague, sar! mi fader him die too," and other pathetic cries andsimilar equally veracious assertions, from numerous cripples, deformedcreatures, and children of all ages, in rags and tatters, whoendeavoured to excite their compassion by exhibiting their wounds andscars. The two youths had time to put their hands in their pockets, andto distribute a few pence to the wretched-looking beings on their way;both pocket and heart, if that were possible, being made lighterthereby. On reaching the top of the flight of stairs, without stoppingto contemplate the height they had ascended, they turned to the right,and took the way along the ramparts towards Fort Saint Elmo. Thereseemed not to have been the slightest necessity for their hurry, as theyappeared to have come on shore simply to take a walk, for they nowslackened their pace, and proceeded on side by side.

  "Well, I'm so glad, Duff, that you have joined us," exclaimed the onewho appeared to be somewhat the eldest. "Who'd have thought it, when weparted four years ago at old Railton's that we were next to meet outhere. I didn't think you would have got leave to enter the service."

  "Neither did I expect to get afloat, and still less to become yourmessmate, when you, lucky dog that I thought you, left school. I mopedon there for nearly another year, and then wrote to my governor and toldhim that if he didn't let me go to sea I should never be fit foranything. At last he believed that I was in earnest, and with a lightheart I turned my back upon Brook-green, and shipped on board the old_Rodney_. But, I say, old fellow, what sort of a chap is our skipper?He looks like a taut hand."

  "There is not a better fellow afloat," was the answer. "He's none ofyour milk-and-water chaps who'll let butter melt in their mouths, ofthat you may be assured; but he knows what ought to be done, and whatman can do; and he makes them do it too. There's no shirking work orbeing slack in stays when he carries on the duty, and there's not asmarter ship in the service, nor a happier one either, though he won'tallow an idler on board. The fact is, my boy, both officers and menknow that no one can shirk their work, so it comes easy to all, and wehave more leave and less punishment than nearly any other vessel on thestation.

  "But, I say, Jack Raby, is it true, that he makes the midshipmen do theduty of topmen?" asked the youngest of the two.

  "I believe you, my boy," answered Jack Raby. "He makes all theyoungsters lie out in the topsail-yards, and hand the canvas in finestyle, ay, and black down the rigging at times too. By Jove, he's thefellow to make your kid-glove-wearing gentlemen dip their hands in thetar-bucket, and keep them there, if he sees they are in any waysqueamish about it."

  "By jingo, he seems to be somewhat of a Tartar," exclaimed themidshipman called Duff, with a half-doubtful expression of countenance,as if his new shipmate was practising on his credulity.

  "Not a bit of it," was the rejoinder. "Let me tell you, that you'llsoon find that your slack captains are the worst to sail with. They letevery one do as they like till all hands begin to take liberties, andthe hard work falls on the most willing, and they then suddenly haul up,and there is six times more flogging and desertion than in a strictship, and she soon becomes a regular hell afloat. I hate yourhoney-mouthed, easy-going skippers, who simper out, `Please, my goodmen, have the goodness to brace round the foreyard when the ship's takenaback.' No, no--give me a man who knows how to command men. Depend onit. Duff, you'll like Captain Fleetwood before you've sailed with him aweek, if you are worth your salt, mind you, though."

  By this time they had reached an angle of the ramparts, where, jumpingup on the banquette, they could enjoy a good view up the harbour.

  "There," exclaimed Raby, pointing to a fine man-of-war brig, which layat the mouth of the dockyard creek just off Fort Saint Angelo. "Isn'tthe _Ione_ a beauty now?"

  "Yes, she is, indeed; and a fine craft, I dare say, in every respect,"answered Duff.

  "Oh, there's nothing can come up to her!" exclaimed Jack Raby, warmingwith his subject. "She'll sail round almost any ship in the fleet; andI only wish, with Charlie Fleetwood to command her, and her presentcrew, we could fall in with an enemy twice her size. We should thrashhim, I'd stake my existence on it, and bring him in as a prize beforelong."

  "Glorious!" exclaimed the other youth, catching the enthusiasm of hiscompanion. "It's a pity the war is over. I'm afraid there's no chanceof any fun of that sort."

  "Oh, you don't know--something may come out of this row between theGreeks and the Turks; and we, at all events, shall have some amusementin looking after them, and cruising up the Archipelago--where I hear weare to be sent, as soon as we are ready for sea."

  Jack Raby was the speaker.

  "How soon will that be?" asked his companion. "We might sail to-morrow,I should have thought."

  "Why, you see, there are more reasons than one for our not being ready,"observed Jack. "And I suspect the skipper himself is in no hurry to getaway; for, don't you go and talk about it now, but the fact is, he hasbeen and fallen desperately in love with a sweetly pretty girl, who,from what I can observe, likes him not a little in return, so he'll bevery sorry to get out of sight of her smiles; at least, I know that Ishould be loath to be beyond hailing distance if I were in his place.Let me give you a piece of advice, Duff; don't go and fall in love. Itis a very inconvenient condition for a midshipman to be in, let me tellyou."

  "Not if I can help it," said Duff. "At least, till I am a lieutenant.However, I felt rather queer about the region of the brisket the othernight, when I was dancing with that pretty little Maltese girl, with theblack eyes, and cherry lips, though we neither of us could understand aword the other said, and I didn't know what was to come of it.Fortunately, next morning, the sensation had gone off again, and I gotout of the scrape. But the fact is, since I grew up (the rogue wasscarcely fifteen), I have been so little on shore, that I have had notime to lose my heart."

  Jack Raby, who was a year older, and therefore considered himself a manat all events, burst into a loud fit of laughter, in which his companionjoined him, at the absurdity of their conversation; of which, althoughthey had spoken in earnest, they were both somewhat conscious. "But Isay, old fellow, without any more humbug about love and such like bosh,just look at the dear old craft! how beautifully she sits on the water--what a graceful sheer she has--and how well her sixteen guns look runout, like dogs from their kennels, all ready to bite. You should seeher under weigh though, and how beautiful she looks with her canvasspread! You'd know her for a man-of-war twenty miles off by the cut ofher royals. See, what square yards she's got! and how well her mastsstand. How light she looks aloft--and yet everything that is required--not a block too large--and yet everything works as easy as possible. Ondeck, too, you'll find there's no jim-crack nonsense about her--everything is for service, and intended to last; and yet, where there isany brass or varnished wood, it's kept as bright and clean as can be.There isn't a ship on the station can come up to us in reefing orfurling; and, let them say what they like in other ships, there isn't ahappier berth, or a better set of fellows to be found, on board any ofthem--take my word for it, Duff."

  "Well, from all you say, I haven't a doubt but that I shall like thelittle _Ione_ very much," observed the other. "And, at all events, Iwouldn't mind a worse ship, for the sake of being with you. But, I say,who is the young lady your skipper--I may now, though, call him ourskipper--has fallen in love with?"

  "A Miss Garden. She is very young, and very fair, and very bright andlively. I'm not surprised at any one's admiring her! it's much morewonderful that everybody doesn't fall in love with her over head andears: for my part, though I've only seen her two or three times, I'mready to fight and die for her, too, if it were necessary."

  "Oh, of course! that we should all be ready to do, as in duty bound, for
our skipper's wife, and much more for the lady of his love," observedDuff; "but I want to know who she is?"

  "I was going to tell you. She has no father nor mother; and her onlyliving relation, that I know of, is an old colonel Gauntlett, on whoseprotection she is entirely thrown. He is rather a grumpy old chap, theysay--but she has no help for it; and he takes her about wherever hegoes. He has got some money--but he hates the navy, and swears sheshall never marry a sailor, or if she does he'll cut her off with afarthing. He came out here some months ago, and has never let any onewith a blue jacket come inside his door; but, somehow or other, CaptainFleetwood got introduced to her, and as he was in mufti, the old chapdidn't know he was in the navy, and told him he should be happy to makehis acquaintance. He did not find out his mistake for some time; andwhen he did--my eyes, what a rage he was in! He did not mind it somuch, though, afterwards, as he is going away in a few days, and thoughtthe captain and his niece were not likely to meet again; but theskipper, you see, is not the man to let the grass grow under his feet inmaking love, more than in anything else, and in the mean time he hadmanaged to come it pretty strong with Miss Garden. How it will end Ican't say--I only know that our captain is the last man in the world toyield up a lady if he loves her, and believes she loves him--he'd assoon think of striking his flag to an enemy while he had got a shot inthe locker; so, I suppose, he'll either win over the old cove, or runoff with her, and snap his fingers at him--he doesn't care for hismoney;--and, to my idea, that would be the best way to settle it."

  "So I think," observed the other youngster. "I've made up my mind, whenI want to marry, if I cannot get the old one's consent, to take Frenchleave, and settle the matter in an offhand way. But where do you saythe grumpy colonel and his pretty niece are going to; for the captainmust look sharp after her, or he'll be carrying her away somewhereinland, out of sight of salt water, where he can't get at her."

  "No fear of that; the old dragon has too great an opinion of his ownsoldiership not to fancy that he can keep guard over his ward," observedRaby. "But we'll see if a sailor can't weather on him. Nothing Ishould like so much as to help the skipper, and I only hope he may askme. He hasn't much time to lose, either; for we heard that the coloneland his niece were bound shortly for Cephalonia, or one of the IonianIslands, where he has got an appointment. If we were ordered therealso, we might find an opportunity; but, you see, the captain won't havethe chances of meeting her without being observed, which he has here,and a hundred to one the uncle claps half a dozen lobsters as sentriesover her, if he sees the _Ione_ come off the place."

  "Then I should be for carrying her off at once, if I were the captain,and letting the old lion growl away without her," exclaimed Duff; andthe two midshipmen walked on fully persuading themselves into the hope,that they should be called upon to assist their captain in running awaywith Miss Garden.

  There were few people abroad to interrupt their conversation; for theheat of the sun kept most of the Maltese within doors. As the Italians,or Spaniards, I forget which, observe, none but dogs and Englishmen walkthe streets when the sun shines in summer. There were, however,sentries on duty, and a few seamen belonging to men of war; ormerchantmen of various nations would pass by; and here and there acowled priest, a woman in the dark faldetta, a ragged beggar boy--or anold gentleman in three-cornered hat, a bag-wig, riding on a donkey, witha big red cotton umbrella over his head, would appear from one of theneighbouring streets, as necessity called him forth.

  On the two happy youths went, careless of the heat, till they reachedthat part of the ramparts called the lower Barraca. It is a broad openspace directly above the water, where stands a conspicuous object fromthe sea, in the form of a Grecian temple, a monument to the memory ofthat excellent man, and brave officer, Sir Alexander Ball, one of LordNelson's most steemed captains. As they reached the spot, theyencountered a person, who was apparently about to descend the way theyhad come; he was a man of about forty years old, with a countenanceslightly weather-beaten, and hands which showed that they were nostrangers to ropes and tar, and there was an undeniable roll in hisgait, which betrayed the seaman, though his costume was that of adenizen of the shore; he wore a long, swallow-tailed, black coat, around beaver hat, and a coloured waistcoat; but the wide duck trousers,and low shoes were those of a thorough salt. Jack Raby looked at himearnestly, and then held out his hand, which was shaken warmly by theother.

  "What, Bowse, as I live," he exclaimed; "what has brought you to Malta,old fellow? I thought you were snugly housed at home with Mrs Bowse,and had given up the sea altogether."

  "Well, sir, so did I think too, and for a time I was comfortable enough;but at last I began to wish to have a look at the blue water again; andI grew sick, and then sicker, till I felt that nothing but a sniff ofthe salt air would do me good. You know, sir, when I was bo'sun of thejolly little _Dart_, your first ship, I took to learning navigation, andwas no bad hand at it. Ah! I loved that craft, and nothing but havingthat windfall of a fortune would have made me leave her. Well, as I wassaying, when I wished to go to sea again, I turned in my mind that Icould not do better with my money than take a share of a merchantman,and go master of her. No sooner said than done. Up I went to London,where I knew a respectable shipowner. He was glad enough to favour mywishes, for he knew he could trust me; and I soon became part owner andmaster of the _Zodiac_, a fine brig, of a hundred and sixty tons. Ihave made two voyages in her, and am now bound to the eastward toCephalonia and Zante. I sail to-morrow or next day, according tocircumstances. If you'll step up here, sir, I think you'll see her, forwe've hauled out ready for a start, as soon as my passengers come onboard."

  As the master of the merchantman spoke, he advanced to a part of theramparts over which they could look down upon the great harbour, where,some way below the custom-house, was seen a merchant brig, laden andready for sea.

  "She's as fine a sea boat as ever floated, I can assure you, sir. It'sa pleasure to be her master," he continued, as he pointed with pride toher. Every good seaman is fond of his vessel, and overlooks her faults,whatever they may be, as a good husband does those of his wife.

  "I am heartily glad of your success, Bowse, I can assure you," said themidshipman warmly; "I owe you much; for you gave me my first lessons inseamanship, and I shall never forget them. You must come and dine withus to-morrow, and I shall introduce you as my friend, Captain Bowse."

  "No, sir--no, pray don't do so," answered the mariner; "I've served onboard a man-of-war, and I know my place and rank better. Captains ofking's ships, if you please, sir,--but masters of merchantmen. I knowthe difference between a collier and a seventy-four, I think. But I'lldine with your mess, sir, with much pleasure, if I don't go to seato-morrow."

  "We shall expect you, then, if we see the _Zodiac_ still in theharbour," said Raby. "I see you've got a spy-glass there, let me take asquint at her. You carry six guns, I observe; and I must say I like thelook of your craft."

  "Very necessary, too, in the places to which we trade," answered themaster. "Those Greek chaps among the islands don't scruple to plunderany vessels they may find unarmed, particularly in these times; but thetruth is, two of those are quakers--their look is much worse than theirbite. However, between this and Cephalonia there's no danger."

  "Why, you know, if any pirates attacked you, and were caught, you'd havethe satisfaction of having them strung up by King Tom, like those chapsyonder," said Raby. "By the bye, Duff, did you ever observe King Tom'sRubber of Whist?"

  "No," answered Duff. "What do you mean?"

  "Take that glass, and look at the outer bastion of Port Ricasoli. Whatdo you see there?"

  "Four figures, which are hanging by their necks from gibbets," answeredDuff. "What are they?"

  "Those are four Englishmen,--at least, one, by the way, was a Yankee,their master,--who turned pirates, and tried to scuttle another Englishbrig, and to drown the people. It's too long a story to tell you now.But old King Tom got hold of them, and
treated them as you see."

  "That fellow, Delano, the Yankee master, was a terrible villain,"observed Captain Bowse, shuddering. "It was not the first black deed ofthe sort he had done, either. One doesn't know what punishment is badenough for such scoundrels. It's a hundredfold worse when such-likeacts are done by our countrymen, than when Greeks or Moors do them,because one does not expect anything better from their hands. But Isee, sir, you are casting an eye at one of those strange-looking nativecrafts standing in for the land with the sea breeze."

  Raby had the telescope at his eye, and he was pointing it towards a sailwhich was rapidly approaching the shore. So broad and lofty was thecanvass, that the hull looked like the small car of a balloon, incomparison to it, as if just gliding over the surface of the blue andunruffled sea.

  The view both up and down the harbour, and in every direction, was veryinteresting. Directly facing them was Port Ricasoli, with its tiers ofguns threatening any invader, and the black, wave-washed rocks at itsbase. A little to the right, in a sort of bay between it and Port SaintAngelo, appeared the white and elegant buildings of the Naval Hospital;and further on, towering upwards from the water, the last-mentionedfort, with its numerous rows of heavy guns, having behind it theDockyard creek, or Galley harbour, where, in the days of yore, thefar-famed galleys of the knights were drawn up, and secure from attack.On either side were white stone walls and buttresses, glittering in thesunshine; overhead a sky of intense blueness; and below, a mirror-likeexpanse of waters, reflecting the same cerulean hue, on which floatedinnumerable crafts, of all shapes, sizes, and rigs, from the proudline-of-battle ship which had triumphantly borne the flag of Englandthrough the battle and the breeze, to the little caique with its greatbig eyes in its bow and strange-shaped stem and high outlandish stern,filled with its swarthy, skirmish crew of vociferating natives. Amongthe merchantmen, the ensigns of all nations might be seen--the stars andstripes of Uncle Sam's freedom-loving people alongside the blacklowering eagle of Russia; the cross of the Christian Greek, and thecrescent of the infidel Turk; there was the banner of the Pope, and ofSardinia, and of various other Italian States; but outnumbering themall, by far, was the red flag of Britain. Far out to the eastward,where the sky and sea formed the horizon, there was a slight,gauze-like, whitish haze, through which could be seen the lofty canvasof several vessels, rising, as it were, like spirits from the waterydeep, and just catching the rays of the sun declining in the oppositedirection, which gave an unusual brilliancy to their wide-spread sails.But the craft which most attracted the attention of our friends was theone Raby had been looking at.

  He pointed her out to his brother midshipman, and handed him thetelescope.

  "What do you think of her?" he asked. "She is a rum one to look at,isn't she?"

  Duff burst into a fit of laughter.

  "Why, if the fellows haven't set their jib right between the long pokingyards of their foresail and mainsail," he exclaimed, "I never did seesuch an odd rig as that before. What in the world is she?"

  "That's what they call a speronara in these parts, sir," answered Bowse;"but you'll see rummer rigs than that before long, when you go up theArchipelago. You see that wide spread of canvass is made by crossingher two latine sails, and setting their jib as a topsail between them.They can lower that down, and haul their wind in an instant. Thesesails, to my mind, are very good where light airs and smooth seasprevail, though they would not answer in our northern latitudes; andthey require a good many more people to handle them than we could sparefor the work. They reef their canvas, not like fore-and-aft sails ingeneral, by the foot, but by the leach along to the yard. There's nodoubt, however, though they have an outlandish look, that they sail wellon a wind, and not badly before it, too, as we see by the craft below usthere."

  Onward gracefully glided the speronara--such is the name given to thecraft which ply between Malta and Sicily with goods and passengers, andfrom some port in the latter island she seemed to have come, from thedirection in which she appeared. On she came very rapidly, consideringthe light breeze; she was evidently a very fast craft of her class. Shecame abreast of Fort Saint Elmo, and soon after took in her outlandishtopsail, as Duff called, just before she passed close under the spotwhere our friends were posted, so that they could look directly down onher deck. She seemed to be full of men habited in the long blue capsand striped shirt of Mediterranean mariners, with light-blue trowsers,and a red sash round the waist. She was of considerable size, and, whatis unusual with craft of her description, she was decked fore-and-aft,though her between-decks must have been inconveniently low. There was aplace sunk aft where stood the helmsman holding his long tiller, and oneither side were arranged, ready for use, several long sweeps; but thewind was at present sufficient to impel the vessel along without theiraid. Thus much was seen as she ran up the harbour. She passed close tothe _Zodiac_, the mate of which, by his gestures, seemed to be speakingto the crew, and scolding them for the risk they ran of getting foul ofher, and they then appeared to be uncertain where to bring up. At lastshe crossed over to the _Ione_, and finally rounding to, took in herforesail, and dropped her anchor off the custom-house.

  The midshipmen and their companion soon got tired of looking down uponthe harbour. Captain Bowse was obliged to part from them, as he hadbusiness to transact; and they finally agreed, as they had still acouple of hours of daylight, to hire a couple of horses of oldSalvatore, in the Palace-square, and to take a gallop into the country,as a preparation for a grand ball which was to take place that eveningat the Auberge de Provence, and where Raby promised Jemmy Duff he wouldpoint him out Miss Garden. Away hurried the two happy youngsters,without casting another thought on the speronara. I, however,particularly wish my readers not to forget her, and also to remember theman-of-war brig, and the merchantman, as both are destined to play aconspicuous part in the following narrative.