William Kingston - The Cruise of the Frolic

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“It is much too dark to distinguish the shore, and as none of them ever think of looking at the sails, they will not discover that we are still at anchor,” he observed; and so it proved, as we shall presently see.

The after-cabin had been devoted to the use of the fairer portion of the guests, and when they got there and found the muddy condition of their dresses, there was a general cry for hot water to wash them. Luckily the cook’s coppers could supply a good quantity, and two tubs were sent aft, in which, as was afterwards reported – for we were not allowed to be spectators of the process – the Honourable Mrs Topgallant and her protégées were busily employed in rinsing their skirts, though it was not quite so easy a matter to dry them. Tea and coffee were next served up in the main cabin, and cakes and muffins and toast in profusion were produced, and as Carstairs quietly observed, “Never were washerwomen more happy.”

There was only one thing wanting, we had not sufficient milk; and that there might be no scarcity in future, it was proposed to send the steward on shore with Henry Flareup to swap him for a cow to be kept on board instead. He was fixed on as the victim, as it was considered that he had been making too much love to one of the Miss Sandons, conduct altogether unbecoming one of his tender years.

“We have passed a very pleasant evening, Mr Hearty, I can assure you,” said the chaperone; “and as I suppose we shall soon be there, we had better get ready to go on shore.”

“We shall have time for a dance first; we have had the deck cleared, and the musicians are ready,” replied Hearty; “may I have the honour of opening the ball with you, Mrs Topgallant?”

“Oh, I don’t know what to say to such a thing – I’m afraid it will be very incorrect; and at all events you must excuse me, Mr Hearty, I shall have quite enough to do to look after my charges.”

And as Mrs Topgallant said this, she glanced round at the assembled young ladies.

“A dance, a dance, by all means!” exclaimed the Miss Rattlers; “what capital fun.”

A dance was therefore agreed on, and we went on deck, which we found illuminated with all the lanterns and spare lamps which could be found on board; and even candles without any shade were stuck on the taffrail, and the boom was topped up, so as to be completely out of the way. We owed the arrangements to Bubble, Carstairs, and the master, who had been busily employed while the rest were below at tea. An exclamation of delight burst from the lips of the young ladies; the musicians struck up a polka, and in another minute all hands were footing it away as gayly as in any ball-room, and with far more merriment and freedom.

Ye gentlemen and ladies who stay at home at ease,
Ah, little do ye think upon the fun there’s on the seas!

How we did dance! No one tired. Even Mrs Topgallant got up and took a turn with the Gentle Giant, and very nearly went overboard, by the by. We had no hot lamps, no suffocating perfumed atmosphere, to oppress us, as in a London ball-room. The clear sky was our ceiling, the cool water was around us. Every gentleman had danced with every lady, except that Loring had taken more than his share with Miss Seaton, before we thought of giving in.

“Well, I wonder we don’t get there!” on a sudden exclaimed Mrs Topgallant, as if something new had struck her.

There was a general laugh, set, I am sorry to say, by Sir Francis Futtock.

“Why, my dear madam, we have not begun to go yet.”

“Not begun to go!” cried the Miss Masons. “What will be said of us?”

“Not begun to go!” groaned the Rev. Fred. “What will my flock do without me?”

“Why, I thought we had been moving all the time. We have passed a number of objects which I should have taken for ghosts, if I believed in such things,” said Mrs Topgallant.

“Those were vessels going up with the tide, my dear madam, to Southampton, where we should have gone also,” observed Sir Francis.

Just then a tall dark object came out of the gloom, and glided by us at a little distance. It certainly had what one might suppose the appearance of a spirit wandering over the face of the waters.

“Cutter, ahoy! What cutter is that?” hailed a voice from the stranger.

“It’s one of them revenue chaps,” said Snow. “The ‘Frolic’ yacht; Edward Hearty, Esq, owner!” answered the old man; “and be hanged to you,” he muttered.

“‘I’ll call thee king – father, royal Dane. Oh, answer me!’” continued Carstairs.

“He’ll not answer you – so avast spouting, and let’s have another turn at dancing!” exclaimed Hearty, interrupting the would-be actor, and dragging him, to the side of Mrs Skyscraper, who did not refuse his request to dance another quadrille.

Thus at it again we went, to the no small amusement of a number of spectators, whose voices could be heard round us. Their boats were just dimly visible, though, from the bright lights on our deck, we could not see the human beings on board them. At last the rippling sound against our bows ceasing, gave notice that the tide had slackened, and that we might venture on lifting anchor. A light air also sprang up from the eastward, and slowly we began to move on our right course. Some of the un-nauticals, however, forgot that with an ebb tide and an easterly wind there was not much chance of our reaching Cowes in a hurry. A thick fog also began to rise from the calm water; and after the dancing, for fear of their catching cold, cloaks and coats, plaids and shawls, were in great requisition among the young ladies. Mrs Topgallant insisted that they would all be laid up, and that they must go below till they got into Cowes harbour.

“She was excessively angry,” she said, “with Mr Hearty for keeping them out in this way; and as for Sir Francis Futtock, a captain in Her Majesty’s navy, she was, indeed, surprised that such a thing could happen while he was on board.”

“But, my dear madam,” urged Sir Francis, in his defence, “you know that accidents will happen in the best-regulated families. Nobody asked my Advice, and I could not venture to volunteer it, or I might have foretold what has happened. However, come down below, and I trust no harm will ensue.”

After some persuasion, the good lady was induced to go below, and to rest herself on a sofa in one of the sleeping-cabins, the door of which Harry Flareup quietly locked, at a hint from Hearty, who then told the young ladies that, as Cerberus was chained, they might now do exactly what they liked. I must do them the justice to say that they behaved very well. There was abundance of laughter, however, especially when Miss Susan Rattler appeared habited in a large box-coat belonging to Captain Carstairs. It had certainly nothing yachtish about it. It was of a whitey-brown hue, with great horn buttons and vast pockets. It was thoroughly roadish, it smelt of the road, its appearance was of the road. It reminded one of the days of four-in-hand coaches; and many a tale it could doubtless tell of Newmarket; of races run, of bets booked. Not content with wearing the coat, Susan was persuaded to try a cigar. She puffed away manfully for some time.

“You look a very jemmy young gent, indeed you do,” observed the Gentle Giant, looking up at her as he sat at her feet. “What would your mamma say if she saw you?”

“What an odious custom you men have of smoking,” cried Hearty, pretending not to see who was the culprit.

“In the presence of ladies, too,” exclaimed Loring, really ignorant of the state of the case.

Poor Susan saw that she was laughed at, and, beginning probably at the same time to feel a little sick from the fumes of the tobacco, she was not sorry of an excuse for throwing Carstairs’ best Havana into the water.

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