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 wel