In The Meantime, I Scribbled
A Line Of Thanks And Good Wishes To M. De La Ronciere,
And Another To You, And Guyed It With Our Mails On Board
The Corvette - In A Milk Can.
In the meantime all was bustle on board our decks, and
I think every one was heartily pleased at the thoughts
of getting the little schooner again under canvas.
A
couple of reefs were hauled down in the mainsail and
staysail, and everything got ready for making sail.
"Is all clear for'ard for slipping, Mr. Wyse?"
"Ay, ay, Sir; all clear!"
"Let go the tow-ropes!"
"All gone, Sir!"
And down went the heavy hawsers into the sea, up fluttered
the staysail, - then - poising for a moment on the waves
with the startled hesitation of a bird suddenly set
free, - the little creature spread her wings, thrice dipped
her ensign in token of adieu - receiving in return a hearty
cheer from the French crew - and glided like a phantom
into the North, while the "Reine Hortense" puffed back
to Iceland. [Footnote: It subsequently appeared that
the "Saxon," on the second day after leaving Onunder
Fiord, had unfortunately knocked a hole in her bottom
against the ice, and was obliged to run ashore in a
sinking state. In consequence of never having been rejoined
by her tender, the "Reine Hortense" found herself short
of coals; and as the encumbered state of the sea rendered
it already very unlikely that any access would be found
open to the island, M. de la Ronciere very properly judged
it advisable to turn back.
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