of your own, instead of going out always with the fishermen; the idea seemed to me a good one, so I got her to write to some one she knows at Exmouth, and he has spoken to the revenue officer there. They have been bothering me about what size it should be, and as I could not tell them whether it should be ten feet long or fifty, I said the matter must remain till you came home, and then Marco could go over with you to Exmouth and see the officer.”
“Oh, thank you very much, father!”
“It is only right that you should be indulged in a matter like this, Horace. I know that you don’t care about riding alone, and I am sorry I can’t be more of a companion to you, but I have always my hands full of important work, and I know that for a boy of your age it must be very dull here. Choose any boat you like. I have been talking to Marco, and he says that she can be hauled up on the beach and lie there perfectly safe when you are away. Of course if necessary he can have a young fellow or two from the village to help while you are at home. He seems to think that in that way you could have a boat of more comfortable size. I don’t know anything about it, so I have left the matter entirely to him and you. The difference of cost between a small boat and a large one is of no consequence one way or the other.”
Accordingly, the next morning Marco and Horace started directly after breakfast in the carriage to catch the coach, which passed along the main road four miles from Seaport, and arrived at Exmouth at two. They had no difficulty in finding the house of Captain Martyn, whose title was an honorary one, he being a lieutenant of many years’ service.
“Is Captain Martyn in?” Horace asked the servant who opened the door.
“No, sir; he is away in the cutter.” Horace stood aghast. It had never struck him that the officer might not be at home.
“His son is in, Mr. William Martyn, if that will do,” the servant said, seeing the boy’s look of dismay.
“I don’t know,” he said; “but at any rate I should like to see him.”
“I will tell him, sir, if you will stay here.”
A minute later a tall powerfully-built young fellow of two or three-and-twenty came to the door.
“Well, youngster, what is it?” he asked.
“I have come about buying a boat, sir. My name is Beveridge. I believe Captain Martyn was kind enough to say that he would look out for a boat for us.”
“Oh, yes, I have heard about it; but whether it was a dinghy or a man-of-war that was wanted we couldn’t find out. Do you intend to manage her single-handed?”
“Oh, no, sir! I have done a lot of sailing with the fishermen at Seaport, but I could not manage a boat by myself, not if there was any wind. But Marco was a sailor among the Greek isles before he entered my father’s service.”
“Want a comfortable craft,” the Greek, who had learned to speak a certain amount of English, said. “Can have two or three hands.”
“Oh, you want a regular cruiser! Well, you are a lucky young chap, I must say. The idea of a young cub like you having a boat with two or three hands to knock about in! Do you want a captain, because I am to let?”
“No, sir, we don’t want a captain, and we don’t want a great big craft. Something about the size of a fishing-boat, I should say. Are you a sailor?”
“Yes, worse luck, I am a master’s mate, if you know what that is. It means a passed midshipman. I have been a master’s mate for four years, and am likely to be one all my life, for I have no more chance of getting a berth than I have of being appointed a post-captain to-morrow. Well, I will put on my cap and go with you. I have been looking about since my father heard about a boat being wanted. The letter said nothing about your age, or what size of boat was wanted; it gave in fact no useful information whatever. It was about as much to the point as if they had said you wanted to have a house and did not say whether it was a two-roomed cottage or a country mansion. But I think I know of a little craft that would about suit you. Does your father sail himself?”
Horace could not help smiling at the idea. “No,” he said. “My father cares for nothing but studying Greek. I am at Eton, but it is very slow in the holidays, and as I generally go out with the fishermen the best part of the time I am at home, he thought it would be a good thing for me to have a boat of my own.”
William Martyn looked quietly down at the lad, then went in and got his cap, rejoined them, and sauntered down towards the river. He led the way along the wharfs, passed above the town, and then pointed to a boat lying on the mud.
“That is the craft I should choose if I were in your place,” he said. “She is as sound as a bell, and I wouldn’t mind crossing the Bay of Biscay in her.”
“But she is very large,” Horace said, looking at her with some doubt in his face.
“She is about fifteen tons burthen,” he said, “built of oak, and is only eight years old, though she looks battered about and rusty as she lies there. She was built from his own designs by Captain Burrows, as good a sailor as ever stepped. She is forty feet long and fifteen feet beam. She is fast, and a splendid sea-boat, with four foot draft of water. He died three years after he built her, and she has been lying there ever since. Her gear has been all stowed away in a dry place, and the old sailor in charge of it says it is in perfect order. The old captain used to knock about on board of her with only a man and a boy, and she is as easy to handle as a cock-boat. I was out in her more than once when I was at home on leave, and she is a beauty. Of course you can’t judge of her as she lies there; but she has wonderfully easy lines, and sits the water like a duck. She is a dandy, you see; that is, she carries a small mizzen mast. She was rigged so because a craft like that is a good deal easier to work short-handed than a cutter.”
She seemed as she lay there so much larger than anything Horace had had the idea of possessing that he looked doubtfully at Marco.
“I think she will do,” the Greek said; “just the sort of boat for us. See her when tide comes up, and can go on board. How much cost?”
“They only want eighty pounds for her,” William Martyn said. “They asked a hundred and fifty at first; but everything is so dull, and there have been such a lot of small craft sold off from the dockyards, that she has not found a purchaser. If I had two or three hundred a year of my own there is nothing I should like better than to own that craft and knock about in her. Her only fault is she wants head-room. There is only five foot under her beams, for she has a low freeboard. That prevents her from being sold as a yacht. But as one does not want to walk about much below I don’t see that that matters. She has got a roomy cabin and a nice little stateroom for the owner, and a fo’castle big enough for six hands.”
“It would be splendid,” Horace said. “But do you think, Marco, my father meant me to have such a large boat as this?”
The Greek nodded. “Master said buy a good big safe boat. No use getting a little thing Mr. Horace tire of in a year or two. Can always get a man or two in the holidays. I think that is just the boat.”
“Tide has nearly reached her,” William Martyn said. “We shall be able to get off to her in an hour. We will go and overhaul the gear now. I will get the key of the cabins.”
It took them a good hour to get out the sails and inspect them, and examine the ropes and gear. All were pronounced in good order.
“The sails are as good for all practical purposes as the day they were turned out,” Martyn said. “They may not be quite as white as the fresh-water sailors about here think necessary for their pleasure
