CHAPTER XVII.
"'Twas not without some reason, for the wind Increased at night, until it blew a gale; And though 'twas not much to a naval mind, Some landsmen would have look'd a little pale, For sailors are, in fact, a different kind; At sunset they began to take in sail, For the sky show'd it would come on to blow, And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so." BYRON.
As it was just past the turn of the day, Bluewater determined to linger on the cliffs for several hours, or until it was time to think of his dinner.

Abstracted as his thoughts were habitually, his mind found occupation and pleasure in witnessing the evolutions that succeeded among the ships; some of which evolutions it may be well now briefly to relate.
Sir Gervaise Oakes' foot had not been on the deck of the Plantagenet five minutes, before a signal for all commanders was flying at that vessel's mast-head.

In ten minutes more every captain of the fleet, with the exception of those belonging to the vessels in the offing, were in the flag-ship's cabin, listening to the intentions and instructions of the vice-admiral.
"My plan of sailing, gentlemen, is easily comprehended," continued the commander-in-chief, after he had explained his general intentions to chase and engage; "and everyone of you will implicitly follow it.

We have the tide strong at ebb, and a good six-knot breeze is coming up at south-west.

I shall weigh, with my yards square, and keep them so, until the ship has drawn out of the fleet, and then I shall luff up on a taut bowline and on the starboard tack, bringing the ebb well under my lee-bow.