the gangway as the “Boston” drew up alongside, and on our skipper showing himself, hailed “Juno ahoy! are you ready?”

“Ay, ay,” was the response, “we are—aw—quite ready.”

“Then—off!” shouted the “Boston’s” skipper, and at the word down came his topgallant sheets, the yards going up at the same moment, and the royal sheets fluttering down into their berths, as the yards rose to meet them; then up went the royal yards to their respective mast-heads, the courses dropped heavily down, the staysails and flying-jib slid up their stays, and the driver was hauled out, the whole being done with the regularity and rapidity of a well-oiled and easy-working machine.

In the meantime our own hands had not been idle, and under Mr Annesley’s able manipulation the “Juno” proved herself quite as smart as her antagonist in spreading her snowy pinions.

From that moment all was pleasant excitement on board as the two ships slid gently along side by side within hailing distance of each other. Speculation was rife, and the most diverse opinions as to the issue of the trial were expressed both on the quarter-deck and the forecastle. The “Boston” had the name of being a tolerably smart craft, but during the run down the Solent neither ship appeared able to claim any very decided advantage over the other, sometimes one and sometimes the other drawing a trifle ahead. On arriving off “Egypt” we were able to edge away a little, and then stunsails were set on the starboard side in both ships, still, however, without altering our relative positions.

As the sun declined toward the horizon the wind gradually dropped, finally dying away altogether, and leaving us absolutely motionless save for the drift of the ebb-tide, which still swept us along to the westward. It was a magnificent evening, the water, smooth as glass, reflecting on its glittering surface an absolutely unbroken picture of our stately consort, with every snowy sail, every spar and rope, as clearly shown as though she were reposing on the polished surface of a gigantic mirror. The western sky, glowing with tints of the clearest, palest amber melting into a delicate rose, which merged in its turn imperceptibly into a clear, deep, transparent blue as the eye glanced from the horizon toward the zenith, was without a trace of cloud, and against this pure and exquisitely tinted background the outlines of Hurst Castle stood sharply out, the castle itself and the low spit of land on which it is built appearing of a deep, rich, powerful, purple hue, as though carved out of a giant 

 Prev. P 54/315 next