This man was endowed in an eminent degree, not only with ordinary animal courage, that physical bravery of the battlefield, which is solely due to muscular energy, but he had what is far nobler— moral courage, firmness of soul. If he had any fault it was his being so intensely Scotch from top to toe, a Caledonian of the Caledonians, an obstinate stickler for all the ancient customs of his country. This was the reason he would never serve in England, and he gained his rank of Major in the 42nd regiment, the Highland Black Watch, composed entirely of Scotch noblemen.
As a cousin of Glenarvan, he lived in Malcolm Castle, and as a major he went as a matter of course with the DUNCAN.
Such, then, was the PERSONNEL of this yacht, so unexpectedly called to make one of the most wonderful voyages of modern times. From the hour she reached the steamboat quay at Glasgow, she completely monopolized the public attention. A considerable crowd visited her every day, and the DUNCAN was the one topic of interest and conversation, to the great vexation of the different captains in the port, among others of Captain Burton, in command of the SCOTIA, a magnificent steamer lying close beside her, and bound for Calcutta. Considering her size, the SCOTIA might justly look upon the DUNCAN as a mere fly-boat, and yet this pleasure yacht of Lord Glenarvan was quite the center of attraction, and the excitement about her daily increased.
The DUNCAN was to sail out with the tide at three o’clock on the morning of the 25th of August. But before starting, a touching ceremony was witnessed by the good people of Glasgow. At eight o’clock the night before, Lord Glenarvan and his friends, and the entire crew, from the stokers to the captain, all who were to take part in this self-sacrificing voyage, left the yacht and repaired to St. Mungo’s, the ancient cathedral of the city. This venerable edifice, so marvelously described by Walter Scott, remains intact amid the ruins made by the Reformation; and it was there, beneath its lofty arches, in the grand nave, in the presence of an immense crowd, and surrounded by tombs as thickly set as in a cemetery, that they all assembled to implore the blessing of Heaven on their expedition, and to put themselves under the protection of Providence. The Rev. Mr. Morton conducted the service, and when he had ended and pronounced the benediction, a young girl’s voice broke the solemn silence that followed. It was Mary Grant who poured out her heart to God in prayer for her benefactors, while grateful happy tears streamed down her cheeks, and almost choked her utterance. The vast assembly dispersed under the influence of deep emotion, and at ten o’clock the passengers and crew returned on board the vessel.
CHAPTER VI AN UNEXPECTED PASSENGER
THE ladies passed the whole of the first day of the voyage in their berths, for there was a heavy swell in the sea, and toward evening the wind blew pretty fresh, and the DUNCAN tossed and pitched considerably.
But the morning after, the wind changed, and the captain ordered the men to put up the foresail, and brigantine and foretopsail, which greatly lessened the rolling of the vessel. Lady Helena and Mary Grant were able to come on deck at daybreak, where they found Lord Glenarvan, Major McNabbs and the captain.
“And how do you stand the sea, Miss Mary?” said Lord Glenarvan.
“Pretty well, my Lord. I am not very much inconvenienced by it. Besides I shall get used to it.”
“And our young Robert!”
“Oh, as for Robert,” said the captain, “whenever he is not poking about down below in the engine-room, he is perched somewhere aloft among the rigging. A youngster like that laughs at seasickness. Why, look at him this very moment! Do you see him?”
The captain pointed toward the foremast, and sure enough there was Robert, hanging on the yards of the topgallant mast, a hundred feet above in the air. Mary involuntarily gave a start, but the captain said:
“Oh, don’t be afraid, Miss Mary; he is all right, take my word for it; I’ll have a capital sailor to present to Captain Grant before long, for we’ll find the worthy captain, depend upon it.”
“Heaven grant it, Mr. John,” replied the young girl.
“My dear child,” said Lord Glenarvan, “there is something so providential in the whole affair, that we have every reason to hope. We are not going, we are led; we are not searching, we are guided. And then see all the brave men that have enlisted in the service of the good cause. We shall not only succeed in our enterprise, but there will be little difficulty in it. I promised Lady Helena a pleasure trip, and I am much mistaken if I don’t keep my word.”
“Edward,” said his wife, “you are the best of men.”
“Not at all,” was the reply; “but I have the best of crews and the best of ships. You don’t admire the DUNCAN, I suppose, Miss Mary?”
“On the contrary, my lord, I do admire her, and I’m a connoisseur in ships,” returned the young girl.
“Indeed!”
“Yes. I have played all my life on my father’s ships. He should have made me a sailor, for I dare say, at a push, I could reef a sail or plait a gasket easily enough.”
“Do you say so, miss?” exclaimed John Mangles.
“If you talk like that you and John will be great friends, for he can’t think any calling is equal to that of a seaman; he can’t fancy any other, even for a woman. Isn’t it true, John?”
“Quite so,” said the captain, “and yet, your Lordship, I must confess that Miss Grant is more in her place on the poop than reefing a topsail. But for all that, I am quite flattered by her remarks.”
“And especially when she admires the DUNCAN,” replied Glenarvan.
“Well, really,” said Lady Glenarvan, “you are so proud of your yacht that you make me wish to look all over it; and I should like to go down and see how our brave men are lodged.”
“Their quarters are first-rate,” replied John, “they are as comfortable as if they were at home.”
“And they really are at home, my dear Helena,” said Lord Glenarvan. “This yacht is a portion of our old Caledonia, a fragment of Dumbartonshire, making a voyage by special favor, so that in a manner we are still in our own country. The DUNCAN is Malcolm Castle, and the ocean is Loch Lomond.”
“Very well, dear Edward, do the honors of the Castle then.”
“At your service, madam; but let me tell Olbinett first.”
The steward of the yacht was an excellent maitre d’hotel, and might have been French for his airs of importance, but for all that he discharged his functions with zeal and intelligence.
“Olbinett,” said his master, as he appeared in answer to his summons, “we are going to have a turn before breakfast. I hope we shall find it ready when we come back.”
He said this just as if it had been a walk to Tarbert or Loch Katrine they were going, and the steward bowed with perfect gravity in reply.
“Are you coming with us, Major?” asked Lady Helena.
“If you command me,” replied McNabbs.
“Oh!” said Lord Glenarvan; “the Major is absorbed in his cigar; “you mustn’t tear him from it. He is an inveterate smoker, Miss Mary, I can tell you. He is always smoking, even while he sleeps.”
The Major gave an assenting nod, and Lord Glenarvan and his party went below.
McNabbs remained alone, talking to himself, as was his habit, and was soon enveloped in still thicker clouds