CHAPTER TWELVE.
MAKING "WESTING." She was a fine-looking barque--as Sam had explained to me beforehand, when first telling me the news of his having secured a berth for me aboard her--with a good forecastle and clean run of deck aft to the poop, saving a small deck-house amidships, on a line with the cook's caboose, where were the separate cabins devoted to the use of the boatswain and carpenter.
Captain Billings showed us over her, pointing out the special arrangements for the comfort of his officers; and then, much to my surprise, and to that of Sam as well, for that matter, although he had stipulated for good treatment on my behalf, the skipper said that I could have an empty bunk to myself, alongside of the boatswain's quarters.
It was almost too good to be true! "Why, laddie, you'll be a blessed sight better off than if you were a middy aboard a man o' war!" said Sam, exultantly; but, whilst he was engaged showing me how to put my chest and stow my things, so as to be easily within reach and yet out of the way, in order not to encroach on the limited space at my command, our attention was drawn away from the consideration of such personal matters by the loud hail of Captain Billings ringing through the ship fore and aft-- "All hands, make sail!" The pilot had come off from shore in the same boat with us; and, as the only thing the _Esmeralda_ had been awaiting was the water to rise sufficiently for her to cross the bar, Cardiff being a tidal harbour, now that it was approaching the flood, it was time to make ready for a start.

We were going to make a move "while the day was yet young," so to speak, for it was only about five o'clock yet in the afternoon.
On hearing the skipper's cry, Sam and I at once made our way aft up the ladder on to the poop, where Captain Billings was standing, shouting out his orders, according to the directions of the pilot standing beside him--that gentleman, while in charge, being commanding officer, having the precedence of a captain even on board his own ship! I was all eagerness to assist, and anxious to enter on my duties; but the skipper motioned me aside, saying that he'd put me into a watch and give me regular work to do as soon as we had got fairly to sea, for he "didn't want any idlers hanging round them to encumber the men." So, acting on the principle that "a nod was as good as a wink to a blind horse," I sheered over to the other side of the deck.

Here, Sam Pengelly was standing by the taffrail, and from this coign of vantage we both watched with much interest the operation of getting the ship under weigh.
The vessel's topsails, as I have mentioned before, were already cast loose from the gaskets and her courses hung in the brails, while she was lying in the stream, heading almost due south and facing the entrance of the harbour, into which the tide was still running and, consequently, keeping her cable as taut as a fiddle-string; but now, on the captain's command causing the hands to man the topsail halliards and run up the yards to the mast-head, the ponderous folds of canvas expanded with the wind, which was still to the nor'-east and blowing from aft, and the ship, in spite of the incoming tide, surged up to her anchor, bringing it right under her fore foot, thus slackening the strain on the cable.
Another party of the crew, meanwhile, under the superintendence of the boatswain, had manned the windlass, bringing in the cable slack with a "slip-slap" and "click-clack" of the pall, as the winch went round, the moment the skipper's warning cry, "Hands up anchor," was heard from aft.
"Hove short, sir," then sang out the boatswain.
"Up with it, then, men," returned the skipper; and in another minute, for we were only in some six-fathom water, the anchor-stock showed itself above the surface and was run up to the cathead.
Now, free from the ground, the bows of the vessel began to rise and fall as she curtsied politely to the stream, which was just on the turn, preparing to bid adieu to Cardiff harbour; so, Captain Billings himself jumped from where he had been standing, by the pilot's side, to the wheel, making the spokes rapidly fly round until the helm was hard up, putting the ship before the wind and steering towards the mouth of the harbour ahead.
"Sheet home!" was the next order; and, with a "yo-heave-ho," the clews of the topsails were hauled out to the end of the yards, while the clewgarnet blocks rattled as the main sheet was brought aft; then, the yards were braced round a bit to the starboard and the vessel headed out into the Channel, with the wind on her quarter, on the port tack.
"Hoist away the jib!" shouted out Captain Billings, on this much being achieved; when the _Esmeralda_ began to gather way, the bubbles now floating past astern as she commenced to move through the water--at first slowly, and then with more speed, as the sails, already set, filled and drew.
"Look smart there, men, and run away with those halliards," echoed the mate, repeating the captain's order anent the jib; and the _Esmeralda_, being now well under control of her helm, a picked hand came aft to take Captain Billings' place at the wheel, of which he had retained charge until now, while another man was put in the main chains with the lead, heaving it at intervals and chanting out the soundings in a monotonous sing-song drawl of "By the mark, four," and so on, until we reached six- fathom water, and then "The deep nine!" All this time we had been heading over to the Somersetshire shore; but when we were a couple of miles or so out from Cardiff, the pilot told the skipper that it was time to come about, as we had got into the proper fairway of the Channel and our course now should be west instead of south.
Captain Billings didn't need a second hint as to what he should do.
"Hands 'bout ship!" he roared out the instant the pilot had spoken, the mate and boatswain repeating as before the order after him in turn, and the man at the wheel putting down the helm instanter.
"Helm's a lee!" shouted the skipper, the head sheets being let go as he spoke, and the jib flattened on the vessel going into stays.
"Raise tacks and sheets!" and the fore-tack and main sheets were cast- off, while the weather main brace was hauled taut.
"Mainsail haul!" was the next order; when, on the heavy yard swinging round, the _Esmeralda_ came up to the wind slowly, as if casting a long, lingering farewell look at the Welsh coast, in deep regret at leaving it.
The head yards were then braced round, the fore-tack boarded, and the mainsheet hauled aft; after which the spanker was set, and the men sent aloft to loosen the topgallant sails, the yards of which had been crossed while we were still at anchor, so as to be ready when wanted.
The ship then filled away again on the port tack, starting off with renewed speed, in a due west direction now, down the Bristol Channel, with the wind, which was on her beam, blowing at the rate of about an eight-knot breeze.
"We've made a good start, Pengelly," said Captain Billings, coming up to where we were still standing, rubbing his hands cheerfully together and seemingly much at ease now that we were well under way.

"It isn't often one gets a nor'-east wind at this time of year, hereabouts, and when we do chance upon it, why, there's no use in wasting it." "Sartinly not, Cap'en Billings," responded Sam; "them's jest my sentiments! I suppose as you'll be a'most out of the Channel by mornin', if the wind holds ?" "Aye, we ought to be off Ilfracombe soon after sunrise, the pilot says.
Will you like to go ashore when we drop him there, eh ?" "That'll do nicely, Cap'en," replied Sam.

"I only jest wanted for to see the last of the b'y, and I s'pected as how you'd land your pilot thereabout or at Bideford, where I told the man in charge o' my schooner to call in for me; but it don't matter much where I get ashore." "All right then," said Captain Billings; "so, now, as the ship's going on at a spanking rate, with no danger ahead and in charge of the pilot, suppose you and the lad come down to the cabin along with me and have a bit of something to eat, for it's getting late?
I dare say the steward'll find us some grub somewhere, though it's rather early in the voyage for regular meals." So saying, the skipper dived down the poop ladder, we two after him, when we found a well-spread table below, the sight of which pleased Sam as much as the appearance of my bunk--although, mind you, only on account of his interest in me, as there wasn't a bit of the gourmand about him.
"See, my laddie," said he, nudging me, and speaking in a whisper.