It was now four in the morning--there were clouds in the sky, but very little wind. In the east, all was clear--the morning star had already slipt her moorings, and was several degrees above the horizon, against which the rolling swell rose and sank as black as ink, except where the glorious planet cast a tiny wake on it, glittering in a small line of silver light; underneath, the glow of the advancing sun gradually tinged the sky and every shred of clouds with a crimson flush.
On the other hand, when we looked down to leeward, far in the steamy west, the declining moon hung over the dark sea pale and sickly, as a lamp whose oil had failed. She looked as if she would have dropped at once into the ocean, and the feeble wake she cast through the ascending fog was dull and cheerless. There, however, in the very centre of her half quenched radiance, lay the noble frigate, rolling heavily on the long seas, under her three topsails; now rising distinct and clear against the horizon on the ridge of the dark swell, and again sinking on the liquid hills until she disappeared, as if the ever heaving waters had swallowed her up. All overhead continued blue, and cold, and serene.
"Mr Marline, bear up, and run down to her."
The deadening splash and gushing sound of the felucca's counter, as it came surging down, while lying to, was soon, but gradually, exchanged for the rushing of the water and buzzing of the foam past a vessel rapidly cleaving the billows.
As we approached, all remained quiet and still on board the frigate. We stood on--not a soul seemed to notice us--we crossed her stern--still all silent, and at length we rounded to under her lee. We were so close that one might have chucked a biscuit into her gangway.
"Are you waiting for a boat, Mr Lanyard?" at length said the officer of the watch, the old gunner.
"No, no," he replied, "I will be on board presently."
Sprawl was roused out, and in a few seconds we were in our own tiny skiff, and approaching the frigate. All continued dark and dismal, as we looked up at her black hull, dark sails, and tall spars. She was rolling heavily, the masts and yards groaning, the bulkheads creaking and screaming, and the topsails fluttering and grumbling, until the noise, every now and then, ended in a sounding thump, as if the old ship, in all her parts, were giving audible indications of her impatience of the tedious calm; while her stained canvass appeared to be as heavy as if a wetting shower had just poured down. We approached, and as the man in the bow stuck his boat-hook into the old lady's side to fend off, the sidesman handed us the man-ropes, and presently we were all three on the Gazelle's quarterdeck.