“ What, has
this thing appeared again, to-night?”
Hamlet.
“The face of man is the log-book
of his thoughts, and Captain Ludlow’s seems
agreeable,” observed a voice, that came from
one, who was not far from the commander of the Coquette,
while the latter was still enacting the pantomime
described in the close of the preceding chapter.
“Who speaks of thoughts and
log-books or who dares to pry into my movements?”
demanded the young sailor, fiercely.
“One who has trifled with the
first and scribbled in the last too often, not to
know how to meet a squall, whether it be seen in the
clouds or only on the face of man. As for looking
into your movements, Captain Ludlow, I have watched
too many big ships in my time, to turn aside at each
light cruiser that happens to cross my course.
I hope, Sir, you have an answer; every hail has its
right to a civil reply.”
Ludlow could scarce believe his senses,
when, on turning to face the intruder, he saw himself
confronted by the audacious eye and calm mien of the
mariner who had, once before that morning, braved his
resentment. Curbing his indignation, however,
the young man endeavored to emulate the coolness which,
notwithstanding his inferior condition, imparted to
the air of the other something that was imposing,
if it were not absolutely authoritative. Perhaps
the singularity of the adventure aided in effecting
an object, that was a little difficult of attainment
in one accustomed to receive so much habitual deference
from most of those who made the sea their home.
Swallowing his resentment, the young commander answered
“He that knows how to face his
enemies with spirit, may be accounted sufficiently
bold; but he who braves the anger of his friends, is
fool-hardy.”
“And he who does neither, is
wiser than both,” rejoined the reckless hero
of the sash. “Captain Ludlow, we meet on
equal terms, at present, and the parley may be managed
with some freedom.”
“Equality is a word that ill
applies to men of stations so different.”
“Of our stations and duties
it is not necessary to speak. I hope that, when
the proper time shall come, both may be found ready
to be at the first, and equal to discharge the last.
But Captain Ludlow, backed by the broadside of the
Coquette and the cross-fire of his marines, is not
Captain Ludlow alone, on a sea bluff, with a crutch
no better than his own arm, and a stout heart.
As the first, he is like a spar supported by backstays
and forestays, braces and standing rigging; while,
as the latter, he is the stick, which keeps its head
aloft by the soundness and quality of its timber.
You have the appearance of one who can go alone, even
though it blew heavier than at present, if one may
judge of the force of the breeze, by the manner it
presses on the sails of yonder boat in the bay.”
“Yonder boat begins to feel
the wind, truly!” said Ludlow, suddenly losing
all other interest in the appearance of the periagua
which held Alida and her friends, and which, at that
instant, shot out from beneath the cover of the hill
into the broad opening of Raritan bay. “What
think you of the time, my friend? a man of your years
should speak with knowledge of the weather.”
“Women and winds are only understood,
when fairly in motion,” returned he of the sash;
“now, any mortal who consulted comfort and the
skies, would have preferred a passage in Her Majesty’s
ship Coquette, to one in yonder dancing periagua;
and yet the fluttering silk we see, in the boat, tells
us there is one who has thought otherwise.”
“Effrontery,” rejoined
the other, observing that the commander hesitated.
Let the commissioned officer of the Queen speak boldly;
I am no better than a top-man, or at most a quarter-master.”
“I wish to say nothing disagreeable,
but I find your knowledge of my offer to convey the
lady and her friends to the residence of Alderman Van
Beverout, a little surprising.”
“And I see nothing to wonder
at, in your offer to convey the lady anywhere, though
the liberality to her friends is not an act of so clear
explanation. When young men speak from the heart,
their words are not uttered in whispers.”
“Which would imply that you
overheard our conversation. I believe it, for
here is cover at hand to conceal you. It may be,
Sir, that you have eyes, as well as ears.”
“I confess to have seen your
countenance, changing sides, like a member of parliament
turning to a new leaf in his conscience, at the Minister’s
signal while you overhauled a bit of paper ”
“Whose contents you could not know!”
“Whose contents I took to be
some private orders, given by a lady who is too much
of a coquette herself, to accept your offer to sail
in a vessel of the same name.”
“By Heavens, the fellow has
reason in his inexplicable impudence!” muttered
Ludlow, pacing backward and forward beneath the shadow
of the tree. “The language and the acts
of the girl are in contradiction; and I am a fool
to be trifled with, like a midshipman fresh broken
loose from his mother’s apron-string. Harkee,
Master-a-a You’ve a name I suppose,
like any other straggler on the ocean.”
“Yes. When the hail is
loud enough to be heard, I answer to the call of Thomas
Tiller.”
“Well then, Master Tiller, so
clever a seaman should be glad to serve the Queen.”
“Were it not for duty to another,
whose claim comes first, nothing could be more agreeable
than to lend a lady in distress a helping hand.”
“And who is he, who may prefer
a claim to your services, in competition with the
majesty of these realms?” demanded Ludlow, with
a little of the pretension that, when speaking of
its privileges, is apt to distinguish the manner of
one who has been accustomed to regard royalty with
reverence.
“Myself. When our affairs
call us the same way no one can be readier than I,
to keep Her Majesty’s company; but ”
“This is presuming too far,
on the trifling of a moment,” interrupted Ludlow;
“you know, sirrah, that I have the right to command
your services, without entering into a parley for
them; and which, notwithstanding your gay appearance,
may, after all, be little worth the trouble.”
“There is no need to push matters
to extremity, between us, Captain Ludlow,” resumed
the stranger who had appeared to muse for a moment,
“If I have baffled your pursuit once to-day,
it was perhaps to make my merit in entering the ship
freely, less undeniable. We are here alone, and
your Honor will account it no boasting, if I say that
a man, well limbed and active, who stands six feet
between plank and earline, is not likely to be led
against his will, like a yawl towing at the stern of
a four-and-forty. I am a seaman, Sir; and though
the ocean is my home, I never venture on it without
sufficient footing. Look abroad from this hill,
and say whether there is any craft in view, except
the cruiser of the Queen, which would be likely to
suit the taste of a mariner of the long voyage?”
“By which you would have me
understand, you are here in quest of service?”
“Nothing less; and though the
opinion of a fore-mast Jack may be of little value,
you will not be displeased to hear, that I might look
further without finding a prettier sea-boat, or a
swifter, than the one which sails under your own orders.
A seaman of your station, Captain Ludlow, is not now
to learn, that a man speaks differently, while his
name is his own, and after he has given it away to
the crown; and therefore I hope my present freedom
will not be long remembered.”
“I have met men of your humor
before, my friend, and I have not now to learn, that
a thorough man-of-war’s man is as impudent on
shore, as he is obedient afloat. Is that
a sail, in the offing, or is it the wing of a sea-fowl,
glittering in the sun?”
“It may be either,” observed
the audacious mariner, turning his eye leisurely towards
the open ocean, “for we have a wide look-out
from this windy bluff. Here are gulls sporting
above the waves, that turn their feathers towards
the light.”
“Look more seaward. That
spot of shining white should be the canvas of some
craft, hovering in the offing!”
“Nothing more probable, in so
light a breeze Your coasters are in and out, like
water-rats on a wharf, at any hour of the twenty-four and
yet to me it seems the comb of a breaking sea.”
“’Tis snow-white duck;
such as your swift rover wears on his loftier spars!”
“A duck that is flown,”
returned the stranger drily, “for it is no longer
to be seen. These fly-aways, Captain Ludlow, give
us seamen many sleepless nights and idle chases.
I was once running down the coast of Italy, between
the island of Corsica and the main, when one of these
delusions beset the crew, in a manner that hath taught
me to put little faith in eyes, unless backed by a
clear horizon and a cool head.”
“I’ll hear the circumstance,”
said Ludlow, withdrawing his gaze from the distant
ocean, like one who was satisfied his senses had been
deceived. “What of this marvel of the Italian
seas?”
“A marvel truly, as your Honor
will confess, when I read you the affair, much in
the words I had it logged, for the knowledge of all
concerned. It was the last hour of the second
dog-watch, on Easter-Sunday, with the wind here at
south-east, easterly. A light air filled the upper
canvas, and just gave us command of the ship.
The mountains of Corsica, with Monte Christo and Elba,
had all been sunk some hours, and we were on the yards,
keeping a look-out for a land-fall on the Roman coast.
A low, thick bank of drifting fog lay along the sea,
in-shore of us, which all believed to be the sweat
of the land, and thought no more of; though none wished
to enter it, for that is a coast where foul airs rise,
and through which the gulls and land-birds refuse
to fly. Well, here we lay, the mainsail in the
brails, the top-sails beating the mast-heads, like
a maiden fanning herself when she sees her lover,
and nothing full but the upper duck, with the sun
fairly below the water in the western board. I
was then young, and quick of eye, as of foot, and
therefore among the first to see the sight!”
“Which was ?”
said Ludlow, interested in spite of his assumed air
of indifference.
“Why, here just above the bank
of foul air, that ever rests on that coast, there
was seen an object, that looked like ribs of bright
light, as if a thousand stars had quitted their usual
berths in the heaven, to warn us off the land, by
a supernatural beacon. The sight was in itself
altogether out of nature and surprising. As the
night thickened, it grew brighter and more glowing,
as if ’twere meant in earnest to warn us from
the coast. But when the word was passed to send
the glasses aloft, there was seen a glittering cross
on high, and far above the spars on which earthly ships
carry their private signals.”
“This was indeed extraordinary!
and what did you, to come at the character of the
heavenly symbol?”
“We wore off shore, and left
it a clear berth for bolder mariners. Glad enough
was I to see, with the morning sun, the snowy hills
of Corsica, again!”
“And the appearance of that object was never
explained?”
“Nor ever will be. I have
since spoke with the mariners of that sea concerning
the sight, but never found any who could pretend to
have seen it. There was indeed one bold enough
to say, there is a church, far inland, of height and
magnitude sufficient to be seen some leagues at sea,
and that, favored by our position and the mists that
hung above the low grounds, we had seen its upper
works, looming above the fogs, and lighted for some
brilliant ceremony; but we were all too old in seaman’s
experience to credit so wild a tale. I know not
but a church may loom, as well as a hill or a ship;
but he, who pretends to say, that the hands of man
can thus pile stones among the clouds, should be certain
of believers, ere he pushes the tale too far.”
“Your narrative is extraordinary,
and the marvel should have been looked into closer.
It may truly have been a church, for there stands an
edifice at Rome, which towers to treble the height
of a cruiser’s masts.”
“Having rarely troubled churches,
I know not why a church should trouble me,”
said the mariner of the sash, while he turned his back
on the ocean, as if indisposed to regard the waste
of water longer. “It is now twelve years
since that sight was seen, and though a seaman of many
voyages, my eyes have not looked upon the Roman coast,
from that hour to this. Will your Honor lead
the way from the bluff, as becomes your rank?”
“Your tale of the burning cross
and looming church, Master Tiller, had almost caused
me to forget to watch the movements of yon periagua,”
returned Ludlow, who still continued to face the bay.
“That obstinate old Dutchman I
say, Sir, that Mr. Alderman Van Beverout has greater
confidence in this description of craft than I feel
myself. I like not the looks of yonder cloud,
which is rising from out the mouth of Raritan; and
here, seaward, we have a gloomy horizon. By
Heaven! there is a sail playing in the offing or my
eye hath lost its use and judgment.”
“Your Honor sees the wing of
the sporting gull, again; it had been nigh to deceive
my sight, which would be to cheat the look-out of a
man that has the advantage of some ten or fifteen
years’ more practice in marine appearances.
I remember once, when beating in among the islands
of the China seas, with the trades here at south-east ”
“Enough of your marvels, friend;
the church is as much as I can swallow, in one morning It
may have been a gull! for I confess the object small;
yet it had the steadiness and size of a distant sail!
There is some reason to expect one on our coast, for
whom a bright and seaman’s watch must be had.”
“This may then leave me a choice
of ships,” rejoined Tiller. “I thank
your Honor for having spoken, before I had given myself
away to the Queen; who is a lady that is much more
apt to receive gifts of this nature, than to return
them.”
“If your respect aboard shall
bear any proportion to your hardihood on shore, you
may be accounted a model of civility! But a mariner
of your pretension should have some regard to the
character of the vessel in which he takes service.”
“That of which your Honor spoke, is then a buccaneer?”
“If not a buccaneer, one but
little better. A lawless trader, under the most
favorable view; and there are those who think that
he, who has gone so far, has not stopt short of the
end. But the reputation of the ’Skimmer
of the Seas’ must be known to one who has navigated
the ocean, long as you.”
“You will overlook the curiosity
of a seafaring man, in a matter of his profession,”
returned the mariner of the sash, with strong and evident
interest in his manner. “I am lately from
a distant ocean, and though many tales of the buccaneers
of the islands have been narrated, I do not remember
to have heard of that rover, before his name came into
the discourse between me and the schipper of the boat,
that plies between this landing and the city.
I am not, altogether, what I seem, Captain Ludlow;
and when further acquaintance and hard service shall
have brought me more before the eyes of my commander,
he may not repent having induced a thorough seaman
to enter his ship, by a little condescension and good-nature
shown while the man was still his own master.
Your Honor will take no offence at my boldness, when
I tell you, I should be glad to know more of this
unlawful trader.”
Ludlow riveted his eyes on the unmoved
and manly countenance of his companion. There
was a vague and undefined suspicion in the look; but
it vanished, as the practised organs drank in the
assurance, which so much physical promise afforded,
of the aid of a bold and active mariner. Rather
amused than offended by the freedom of the request,
he turned upon his heel, and as they descended the
bluff, on their way towards the place of landing,
he continued the dialogue.
“You are truly from a distant
ocean,” said the young captain of the Coquette,
smiling like a man who apologizes to himself for an
act of what he thought undue condescension, “if
the exploits of a brigantine known by the name of
the ‘Water-Witch,’ and of him who commands
her, under the fit appellation of the ‘Skimmer
of the Seas,’ have not yet reached your ears.
It is now five summers, since orders have been in the
colonies for the cruisers to be on the alert to hunt
the picaroon; and it is even said, the daring smuggler
has often braved the pennants of the narrow seas.
’Twould be a bigger ship, not knighthood, to
the lucky officer who should catch the knave!”
“He must drive a money-gaining
trade, to run these risks, and to brave the efforts
of so many skilful gentlemen! May I add to a presumption
that your Honor already finds too bold, if one may
judge by a displeased eye, by asking if report speaks
to the face and other particulars of the person of
this free trader, one must call him, though
freebooter should be a better word.”
“What matters the personal condition
of a rogue?” said Captain Ludlow, who perhaps
remembered that the freedom of their intercourse had
been carried as far as comported with prudence.
“What matter, truly! I
asked because the description answers a little to
that of a man I once knew, in the seas of farther India,
and who has long since disappeared, though no one
can say whither he has gone. But this ‘Skimmer
of the Seas’ is some Spaniard of the Main, or
perhaps a Dutchman come from the country that is awash,
in order to taste of terra-firma?”
“Spaniard of the southern coast
never carried so bold a sail in these seas, nor was
there ever known a Dutchman with so light a heel.
The fellow is said to laugh at the swiftest cruiser
out of England! As to his figure, I have heard
little good of it. ’Tis said, he is some
soured officer of better days, who has quitted the
intercourse of honest men, because roguery is so plainly
written on his face, that he vainly tries to hide
it.”
“Mine was a proper man, and
one that need not have been ashamed to show his countenance
among his fellows,” said he of the sash.
“This cannot be the same, if indeed there be
any on the coast. Is’t known, your
Honor, that the man is truly here?”
“So goes a rumor; though so
many idle tales have led me before to seek the smuggler
where he was not, that I give but little faith to the
report. The periagua has the wind more at
west, and the cloud in the mouth of the Raritan is
breaking into scud. The Alderman will have a lucky
run of it!”
“And the gulls have gone more
seaward a certain sign of pleasant weather;”
returned the other, glancing a quick but keen look
over the horizon in the offing. “I believe
our rover, with his light duck, has taken flight among
them!”
“We will then go in pursuit.
My ship is bound to sea; and it is time, Master Tiller,
that I know in what berth you are willing to serve
the Queen.”
“God bless her Majesty!
Anne is a royal lady and she had a Lord High Admiral
for her husband. As for a berth, Sir, one always
wishes to be captain even though he may be compelled
to eat his ration in the lee-scuppers. I suppose
the first-lieutenancy is filled, to your Honor’s
liking?”
“Sirrah, this is trifling; one
of your years and experience need not be told, that
commissions are obtained by service.”
“Under favor; I confess
the error. Captain Ludlow, you are a man of honor,
and will not deceive a sailor who puts trust in your
word.”
“Sailor, or landsman, he is safe who has the
gage.”
“Then, Sir, I ask it. Suffer
me to enter your ship; to look into my future messmates,
and to judge of their characters; to see if the vessel
suits my humor; and then to quit her, if I find it
convenient.”
“Fellow,” said Ludlow,
“this impudence almost surpasseth patience!”
“The request is reasonable,
as can be shown;” gravely returned the unknown
mariner. “Now, Captain Ludlow of the Coquette
would gladly tie himself, for better for worse, to
a fair lady who is lately gone on the water, and yet
there are thousands who might be had with less difficulty.”
“Still deeper and deeper in
thy effrontery and what if this be true?”
“Sir, a ship is a seaman’s
mistress nay, when fairly under a pennant,
with a war declared, he may be said to be wedded to
her, lawfully or not. He becomes ’bone
of her bone, and flesh of her flesh, until death doth
them part.’ To such a long compact, there
should be liberty of choice. Has not your mariner
a taste, as well as your lover? The harpings and
counter of his ship are the waist and shoulders; the
rigging, the ringlets; the cut and fit of the sails,
the fashion of the millinery; the guns are always
called the teeth, and her paint is the blush and bloom!
Here is matter of choice, Sir; and, without leave to
make it, I must wish your Honor a happy cruise, and
the Queen a better servitor.”
“Why, Master Tiller,”
cried Ludlow, laughing, “you trust too much to
these stunted oaks, if you believe it exceeds my power
to hunt you out of their cover, at pleasure.
But I take you at your word. The Coquette shall
receive you on these conditions, and with the confidence
that a first-rate city belle would enter a country
ball-room.”
“I follow in your Honor’s
wake, without more words,” returned he of the
sash, for the first time respectfully raising his canvas
cap to the young commander. “Though not
actually married, consider me a man betrothed.”
It is not necessary to pursue the
discourse between the two seamen any further.
It was maintained, and with sufficient freedom on the
part of the inferior, until they reached the shore,
and came in full view of the pennant of the Queen;
when, with the tact of an old man-of-war’s man,
he threw into his manner all the respect that was
usually required by the difference of rank.
Half an hour later, the Coquette was
rolling at a single anchor, as the puffs of wind came
off the hills on her three top-sails; and shortly
after, she was seen standing through the Narrows, with
a fresh southwesterly breeze. In all these movements,
there was nothing to attract attention. Notwithstanding
the sarcastic allusions of Alderman Van Beverout,
the cruiser was far from being idle; and her passage
outward was a circumstance of so common occurrence,
that it excited no comment among the boatmen of the
bay, and the coasters, who alone witnessed her departure.