“If it were done when
’tis done, then ’twere well
It were done quickly ”
Macbeth.
The words of the immortal poet, with
which, in deference to an ancient usage in the literature
of the language, we have prefaced the incidents to
be related in this chapter, are in perfect conformity
with that governing maxim of a vessel, which is commonly
found embodied in its standing orders, and which prescribes
the necessity of exertion and activity in the least
of its operations. A strongly-manned ship, like
a strong-armed man, is fond of showing its physical
power, for it is one of the principal secrets of its
efficiency. In a profession in which there is
an unceasing contest with the wild and fickle winds,
and in which human efforts are to be manifested in
the control of a delicate and fearful machinery on
an inconstant element, this governing principle becomes
of the last importance. Where ‘delay may
so easily be death,’ it soon gets to be a word
that is expunged from the language; and there is perhaps
no truth more necessary to be known to all young aspirants
for naval success, than that, while nothing should
be attempted in a hurry, nothing should be done without
the last degree of activity that is compatible with
precision.
The commander of the Coquette had
early been impressed with the truth of the foregoing
rule, and he had not neglected its application in the
discipline of his crew. When he reached the deck,
therefore, after relinquishing the cabin to his visiters,
he found those preparations which he had ordered to
be commenced when he first returned to the ship, already
far advanced towards their execution. As these
movements are closely connected with the future events
it is our duty to explain, we shall relate them with
some particularity.
Ludlow had no sooner given his orders
to the officer in charge of the deck, than the whistle
of the boatswain was heard summoning all hands to
their duty. When the crew had been collected,
tackles were hooked to the large boats stowed in the
centre of the ship, and the whole of them were lowered
into the water. The descent of those suspended
on the quarters, was of course less difficult and
much sooner effected. So soon as all the boats,
with the exception of one at the stern, were out, the
order was given to ‘cross top-gallant-yards.’
This duty had been commenced while other things were
in the course of performance, and a minute had scarcely
passed before the upper masts were again in possession
of their light sails. Then was heard the usual
summons of, ‘all hands up anchor, ahoy!’
and the rapid orders of the young officers to ‘man
capstan-bars,’ to ‘nipper,’ and
finally to ‘heave away.’ The business
of getting the anchor on board a cruiser and on board
a ship engaged in commerce, is of very different degrees
of labor, as well as of expedition. In the latter,
a dozen men apply their powers to a slow-moving and
reluctant windlass, while the untractable cable, as
it enters, is broken into coils by the painful efforts
of a grumbling cook, thwarted, perhaps, as much as
he is aided by the waywardness of some wilful urchin
who does the service of the cabin. On the other
hand, the upright and constantly-moving capstan knows
no delay. The revolving ‘messenger’
is ever ready to be applied, and skilful petty officers
are always in the tiers, to dispose of the massive
rope, that it may not encumber the decks.
Ludlow appeared among his people,
while they were thus employed. Ere he had made
one hasty turn on the quarter-deck, he was met by the
busy first-lieutenant.
“We are short, Sir,” said that agent of
all work.
“Set your top-sails.”
The canvas was instantly permitted
to fall, and it was no sooner stretched to the yards,
than force was applied to the halyards, and the sails
were hoisted.
“Which way, Sir, do you wish the ship cast?”
demanded the attentive Luff.
“To seaward.”
The head-yards were accordingly braced
aback in the proper direction, and it was then reported
to the captain that all was ready to get the ship
under way.
“Trip the anchor at once, Sir;
when it is stowed, and the decks are cleared, report
to me.”
This sententious and characteristic
communication between Ludlow and his second in command,
was sufficient for all the purposes of that moment.
The one was accustomed to issue his orders without
explanation, and the other never hesitated to obey,
and rarely presumed to inquire into their motive.
“We are aweigh and stowed, Sir;
every thing clear,” said Mr. Luff, after a few
minutes had been allowed to execute the preceding commands.
Ludlow then seemed to arouse himself
from a deep reverie. He had hitherto spoken mechanically,
rather than as one conscious of what he uttered, or
whose feelings had any connexion with his words.
But it was now necessary to mingle with his officers
and to issue mandates that, as they were less in routine,
required both thought and discretion. The crews
of the different boats were ‘called away,’
and arms were placed in their hands. When nearly
or quite one-half of the ship’s company were
in the boats, and the latter were all reported to
be ready, officers were assigned to each, and the
particular service expected at their hands was distinctly
explained.
A master’s mate in the captain’s
barge, with the crew strengthened by half-a-dozen
marines, was ordered to pull directly for the Cove,
into which he was to enter with muffled oars, and
where he was to await a signal from the first-lieutenant,
unless he met the brigantine endeavoring to escape,
in which case his orders were imperative to board and
carry her at every hazard. The high-spirited
youth no sooner received this charge, than he quitted
the ship and steered to the southward, keeping inside
the tongue of land so often named.
Luff was then told to take command
of the launch. With this heavy and strongly-manned
boat, he was ordered to proceed to the inlet, where
he was to give the signal to the barge, and whence
he was to go to the assistance of the latter, so soon
as he was assured the Water-Witch could not again
escape by the secret passage.
The two cutters were intrusted to
the command of the second-lieutenant, with orders
to pull into the broad passage between the end of the
cape, or the ‘Hook,’ and that long narrow
island which stretches from the harbor of New-York
for more than forty leagues to the eastward, sheltering
the whole coast of Connecticut from the tempests of
the ocean. Ludlow knew, though ships of a heavy
draught were obliged to pass close to the cape, in
order to gain the open sea, that a light brigantine,
like the Water-Witch, could find a sufficient depth
of water for her purposes further north. The
cutters were, therefore, sent in that direction, with
orders to cover as much of the channel as possible,
and to carry the smuggler should an occasion offer.
Finally, the yawl was to occupy the space between the
two channels, with orders to repeat signals, and to
be vigilant in reconnoitring.
While the different officers intrusted
with these duties were receiving their instructions,
the ship, under the charge of Trysail, began to move
towards the cape. When off the point of the Hook,
the two cutters and the yawl ‘cast off,’
and took to their oars, and when fairly without the
buoys, the launch did the same, each boat taking its
prescribed direction.
If the reader retains a distinct recollection
of the scene described in one of the earlier pages
of this work, he will understand the grounds on which
Ludlow based his hopes of success. By sending
the launch into the inlet, he believed he should inclose
the brigantine on every side; since her escape through
either of the ordinary channels would become impossible,
while he kept the Coquette in the offing. The
service he expected from the three boats sent to the
northward, was to trace the movement of the smuggler,
and, should a suitable opportunity offer, to attempt
to carry him by surprise.
When the launch parted from the ship,
the Coquette came slowly up to the wind, and with
her fore-top-sail thrown to the mast, she lay, waiting
to allow her boats the time necessary to reach their
several stations. The different expeditions had
reduced the force of the crew quite one-half, and
as both the lieutenants were otherwise employed, there
now remained on board no officer of a rank between
those of the captain and Trysail. Some time after
the vessel had been stationary, and the men had been
ordered to keep close, or, in other words, to dispose
of their persons as they pleased, with a view to permit
them to catch ‘cat’s naps,’ as some
compensation for the loss of their regular sleep, the
latter approached his superior, who stood gazing over
the hammock-cloths in the direction of the Cove, and
spoke.
“A dark night, smooth water,
and fresh hands make boating agreeable duty!”
he said. “The gentlemen are in fine heart,
and full of young men’s hopes; but he who lays
that brigantine aboard, will, in my poor judgment,
have more work to do than merely getting up her side.
I was in the foremost boat that boarded a Spaniard
in the Mona, last war; and though we went into her
with light heels, some of us were brought out with
broken heads. I think the fore-top-gallant-mast
has a better set, Captain Ludlow, since we gave the
last pull at the rigging?”
“It stands well;” returned
his half-attentive commander. “Give it the
other drag, if you think best.”
“Just as you please, Sir; ’tis
all one to me. I care not if the mast is hove
all of one side, like the hat on the head of a country
buck; but when a thing is as it ought to be, reason
would tell us to let it alone. Mr. Luff was of
opinion, that by altering the slings of the main-yard,
we should give a better set to the top-sail sheets;
but it was little that could be done with the stick
aloft, and I am ready to pay Her Majesty the difference
between the wear of the sheets as they stand now, and
as Mr. Luff would have them, out of my own pocket,
though it is often as empty as a parish church in
which a fox-hunting parson preaches. I was present,
once, when a real tally-ho was reading the service,
and one of your godless squires got in the wake of
a fox, with his hounds, within hail of the church-windows!
The cries had some such effect on my roarer, as a puff
of wind would have on this ship; that is to say, he
sprung his luff, and though he kept on muttering something
I never knew what, his eyes were in the fields the
whole time the pack was in view. But this wasn’t
the worst of it; for when he got fairly back to his
work again, the wind had been blowing the leaves of
his book about, and he plumped us into the middle of
the marriage ceremony. I am no great lawyer, but
there were those who said it was a god-send that half
the young men in the parish weren’t married
to their own grandmothers!”
“I hope the match was agreeable
to the family,” said Ludlow, relieving one elbow
by resting the weight of his head on the other.
“Why, as to that, I will not
take upon me to say since the clerk corrected the
parson’s reckoning before the mischief was entirely
done. There has been a little dispute between
me and the first-lieutenant, Captain Ludlow, concerning
the trim of the ship. He maintains that we have
got too much in forward of what he calls the centre
of gravity; and he is of opinion that had we been
less by the head, the smuggler would never have had
the heels of us, in the chase; whereas I invite any
man to lay a craft on her water-line ”
“Show our light!” interrupted
Ludlow. “Yonder goes the signal of the
launch!”
Trysail ceased speaking, and, stepping
on a gun, he also began to gaze in the direction of
the Cove. A lantern, or some other bright object,
was leisurely raised three times, and as often hid
from view. The signal came from under the land,
and in a quarter that left no doubt of its object.
“So far, well;” cried
the Captain, quitting his stand, and turning, for
the first time, with consciousness, to his officer.
“’Tis a sign that they are at the inlet,
and that the offing is clear. I think, Master
Trysail, we are now sure of our prize. Sweep
the horizon thoroughly with the night-glass, and then
we will close upon this boasted brigantine.”
Both took glasses, and devoted several
minutes to this duty. A careful examination of
the margin of the sea, from the coast of New-Jersey
to that of Long-Island, gave them reason to believe
that nothing of any size was lying without the cape.
The sky was more free from clouds to the eastward
than under the land and it was not difficult to make
certain of this important fact. It gave them
the assurance that the Water-Witch had not escaped
by the secret passage, during the time lost in their
own preparations.
“This is still well;”
continued Ludlow. “Now he cannot avoid us show
the triangle.”
Three lights, disposed in the form
just named were then hoisted at the gaff-end of the
Coquette. It was an order for the boats in the
Cove to proceed. The signal was quickly answered
from the launch, and then a small rocket was seen
sailing over the trees and shrubbery of the shore.
All on board the Coquette listened intently, to catch
some sound that should denote the tumult of an assault.
Once Ludlow and Trysail thought the cheers of seamen
came on the thick air of the night; and once, again,
either fancy or their senses told them they heard the
menacing hail which commanded the outlaws to submit.
Many minutes of intense anxiety succeeded. The
whole of the hammock-cloths on the side of the ship
nearest to the land were lined with curious faces,
though respect left Ludlow to the sole occupation
of the short and light deck which covered the accommodations;
whither he had ascended, to command a more perfect
view of the horizon.
“’Tis time to hear their
musketry, or to see the signal of success!” said
the young man to himself, so intently occupied by his
interest in the undertaking, as to be unconscious
of having spoken.
“Have you forgotten to provide
a signal for failure?” said one at his elbow.
“Ha! Master Seadrift; I
would have spared you this spectacle.”
“’Tis one too often witnessed,
to be singular. A life passed on the ocean has
not left me ignorant of the effect of night, with a
view seaward, a dark coast, and a back-ground of mountain!”
“You have confidence in him
left in charge of your brigantine! I shall have
faith in your sea-green lady, myself, if he escape
my boats, this time.”
“See! there is a
token of her fortune;” returned the other, pointing
towards three lanterns that were shown at the inlet’s
mouth, and over which many lights were burnt in rapid
succession.
“’Tis of failure!
Let the ship fall-of, and square away the yards!
Round in, men, round in. We will run down to
the entrance of the bay, Mr. Trysail. The knaves
have been aided by their lucky star!”
Ludlow spoke with deep vexation in
his tones, but always with the authority of a superior
and the promptitude of a seaman. The motionless
being, near him, maintained a profound silence.
No exclamation of triumph escaped him, nor did he
open his lips either in pleasure or in surprise.
It appeared as if confidence in his vessel rendered
him as much superior to exultation as to apprehension.
“You look upon this exploit
of your brigantine, Master Seadrift, as a thing of
course;” Ludlow observed, when his own ship was
steering towards the extremity of the cape, again.
“Fortune has not deserted you, yet; but with
the land on three sides, and this ship and her boats
on the fourth, I do not despair yet of prevailing
over your bronzed goddess!”
“Our mistress never sleeps;”
returned the dealer in contraband, drawing a long
breath, like one who had struggled long to repress
his interest.
“Terms are still in your power.
I shall not conceal that the Commissioners of Her
Majesty’s customs set so high a price on the
possession of the Water-Witch, as to embolden me to
assume a responsibility from which I might, on any
other occasion, shrink. Deliver the vessel, and
I pledge you the honor of an officer that the crew
shall land without question. Leave her
to us, with empty decks and a swept hold, if you will, but,
leave the swift boat in our hands.”
“The lady of the brigantine
thinks otherwise. She wears her mantle of the
deep waters, and, trust me, spite of all your nets,
she will lead her followers beyond the offices of
the lead, and far from soundings; ay! spite
of all the navy of Queen Anne!”
“I hope that others may not
repent this obstinacy! But this is no time to
bandy words; the duty of the ship requires my presence.”
Seadrift took the hint, and reluctantly
retired to the cabin. As he left the poop, the
moon rose above the line of water in the eastern board,
and shed its light along the whole horizon. The
crew of the Coquette were now enabled to see, with
sufficient distinctness, from the sands of the Hook
to the distance of many leagues to seaward. There
no longer remained a doubt that the brigantine was
still within the bay. Encouraged by this certainty,
Ludlow endeavored to forget all motives of personal
feeling, in the discharge of a duty that was getting
to be more and more interesting, as the prospect of
its successful accomplishment grew brighter.
It was not long before the Coquette
reached the channel which forms the available mouth
of the estuary. Here the ship was again brought
to the wind, and men were sent upon the yards and
all her more lofty spars, in order to overlook, by
the dim and deceitful light, as much of the inner
water as the eye could reach; while Ludlow, assisted
by the master, was engaged in the same employment
on the deck. Two or three midshipmen were included,
among the common herd, aloft.
“There is nothing visible within,”
said the captain after a long and anxious search,
with a glass. “The shadow of the Jersey
mountains prevents the sight in that direction, while
the spars of a frigate might be confounded with the
trees of Staten Island, here, in the northern board. Cross-jack-yard,
there!”
The shrill voice of a midshipman answered to the hail.
“What do you make within the Hook, Sir?”
“Nothing visible. Our barge
is pulling along the land, and the launch appears
to be lying off the inlet; ay here is the
yawl, resting on its oars without the Romar; but we
can find nothing which looks like the cutter, in the
range of Coney.”
“Take another sweep of the glass
more westward, and look well into the mouth of the
Raritan, mark you any thing in that quarter?”
“Ha! here is a speck on our lee quarter!”
“What do you make of it?”
“Unless sight deceives me greatly,
Sir, there is a light boat pulling in for the ship,
about three cables’ length distant”
Ludlow raised his own glass, and swept
the water in the direction named. After one or
two unsuccessful trials, his eye caught the object;
and as the moon had now some power, he was at no loss
to distinguish its character. There was evidently
a boat, and one that, by its movements, had a design
of holding communication with the cruiser.
The eye of a seaman is acute on his
element, and his mind is quick in forming opinions
on all things that properly appertain to his profession.
Ludlow saw instantly, by the construction, that the
boat was not one of those sent from the ship; that
it approached in a direction which enabled it to avoid
the Coquette, by keeping in a part of the bay where
the water was not sufficiently deep to admit of her
passage; and that its movements were so guarded as
to denote great caution, while there was an evident
wish to draw as near to the cruiser as prudence might
render advisable. Taking a trumpet, he hailed
in the well-known and customary manner.
The answer came up faintly against
the air, but it was uttered with much practice in
the implement, and with an exceeding compass of voice.
“Ay, ay!” and, “a
parley from the brigantine!” were the only words
that were distinctly audible.
For a minute or two, the young man
paced the deck in silence. Then he suddenly commanded
the only boat which the cruiser now possessed, to be
lowered and manned.
“Throw an ensign into the stern-sheets,”
he said when these orders were executed; “and
let there be arms beneath it. We will keep faith
while faith is observed, but there are reasons for
caution in this interview.”
Trysail was directed to keep the ship
stationary, and after giving to his subordinate private
instructions of importance in the event of treachery,
Ludlow went into the boat in person. A very few
minutes sufficed to bring the jolly-boat and the stranger
so near each other, that the means of communication
were both easy and sure. The men of the former
were then commanded to cease rowing, and, raising
his glass, the commander of the cruiser took a more
certain and minute survey of those who awaited his
coming. The strange boat was dancing on the waves,
like a light shell that floated so buoyantly as scarce
to touch the element which sustained it, while four
athletic seamen leaned on the oars which lay ready
to urge it ahead. In the stern-sheets stood a
form, whose attitude and mien could not readily be
mistaken. In the admirable steadiness of the figure,
the folded arms, the fine and manly proportions, and
the attire, Ludlow recognized the mariner of the India-shawl.
A wave of the hand induced him to venture nearer.
“What is asked of the royal
cruiser?” demanded the captain of the vessel
named, when the two boats were as near each other as
seemed expedient.
“Confidence!” was the
calm reply. “Come nearer Captain Ludlow;
I am here with naked hands! Our conference need
not be maintained with trumpets.”
Ashamed that a boat belonging to a
ship of war should betray doubts, the people of the
yawl were ordered to go within reach of the oars.
“Well, Sir, you have your wish.
I have quitted my ship, and come to the parley, with
the smallest of my boats.”
“It is unnecessary to say what
has been done with the others!” returned Tiller,
across the firm muscles of whose face there passed
a smile that was scarcely perceptible. “You
hunt us hard, Sir, and give but little rest to the
brigantine. But again are you foiled!”
“We have a harbinger of better
fortune, in a lucky blow that has been struck to-night.”
“You are understood, Sir; Master
Seadrift has fallen into the hands of the Queen’s
servants but take good heed! if injury,
in word or deed, befall that youth, there live those
who well know how to resent the wrong!”
“These are lofty expressions,
to come from a proscribed man; but we will overlook
them, in the motive. Your brigantine, Master Tiller,
lost its master spirit in the ‘Skimmer of the
Seas,’ and it may be wise to listen to the suggestions
of moderation. If you are disposed to treat, I
am here with no disposition to extort.”
“We meet in a suitable spirit,
then; for I come prepared to offer terms of ransom,
that Queen Anne, if she love her revenue, need not
despise; but, as in duty to Her Majesty,
I will first listen to her royal pleasure.”
“First, then, as a seaman, and
one who is not ignorant of what a vessel can perform,
let me direct your attention to the situation of the
parties. I am certain that the Water-Witch, though
for the moment concealed by the shadows of the hills,
or favored perhaps by distance and the feebleness
of this light, is in the waters of the bay. A
force, against which she has no power of resistance,
watches the inlet; you see the cruiser in readiness
to meet her off the Hook. My boats are so stationed
as to preclude the possibility of escape, without
sufficient notice, by the northern channel; and, in
short, the outlets are all closed to your passage.
With the morning light, we shall know your position,
and act accordingly.”
“No chart can show the dangers
of rocks and shoals more clearly! and to
avoid these dangers ?”
“Yield the brigantine, and depart.
Though outlawed, we shall content ourselves with the
possession of the remarkable vessel in which you do
your mischief, and hope that, deprived of the means
to err, you will return to better courses.”
“With the prayers of the church
for our amendment! Now listen, Captain Ludlow,
to what I offer. You have the person of one much
loved by all who follow the lady of the sea-green
mantle, in your power; and we have a brigantine that
does much injury to Queen Anne’s supremacy in
the waters of this hemisphere; yield you
the captive, and we promise to quit this coast, never
to return.”
“This were a worthy treaty,
truly, for one whose habitation is not a mad-house!
Relinquish my right over the principal doer of the
evil, and receive the unsupported pledge of a subordinate’s
word! Your happy fortune, Master Tiller, has
troubled your reason. What I offer, was offered
because I would not drive an unfortunate and remarkable
man, like him we have, to extremities, and there
may be other motives, but do not mistake my lenity.
Should force become necessary to put your vessel into
our hands, the law may view your offences with a still
harsher eye. Deeds which the lenity of our system
now considers as venial, may easily turn to crime!”
“I ought not to take your distrust,
as other than excusable,” returned the smuggler,
evidently suppressing a feeling of haughty and wounded
pride. “The word of a free-trader should
have little weight in the ears of a queen’s
officer. We have been trained in different schools,
and the same objects are seen in different colors.
Your proposal has been heard, and, with some thanks
for its fair intentions, it is refused without a hope
of acceptation. Our brigantine is, as you rightly
think, a remarkable vessel! Her equal, Sir, for
beauty or speed, floats not the ocean. By heaven!
I would sooner slight the smiles of the fairest woman
that walks the earth, than entertain a thought which
should betray the interest I feel in that jewel of
naval skill! You have seen her, at many times,
Captain Ludlow in squalls and calms; with
her wings abroad, and her pinions shut; by day and
night; near and far; fair and foul; and
I ask you, with a seaman’s frankness, is she
not a toy to fill a seaman’s heart?”
“I deny not the vessel’s
merits, nor her beauty ’tis a pity
she bears no better reputation.”
“I knew you could not withhold
this praise! But I grow childish when there is
question of that brigantine! Well Sir, each has
been heard, and now comes the conclusion. I part
with the apple of my eye, ere a stick of that lovely
fabric is willingly deserted. Shall we make other
ransom for the youth? What think you of
a pledge in gold, to be forfeited should we forget
our word.”
“You ask impossibilities.
In treating thus at all, I quit the path of proud
authority, because, as has been said, there is that
about the ‘Skimmer of the Seas’ that raises
him above the coarse herd who in common traffic against
the law. The brigantine, or nothing!”
“My life, before that brigantine!
Sir, you forget our fortunes are protected by one
who laughs at the efforts of your fleet; You think
that we are inclosed and that, when light shall return,
there will remain merely the easy task to place your
iron-mounted cruiser on our beam, and drive us to
seek mercy. Here are honest mariners, who could
tell you of the hopelessness of the expedient.
The Water-Witch has run the gauntlet of all your navies,
and shot has never yet defaced her beauty.”
“And yet her limbs have been
known to fall before a messenger from my ship!”
“The stick wanted the commission
of our mistress,” interrupted the other, glancing
his eye at the credulous and attentive crew of the
boat. “In a thoughtless moment, ’twas
taken up at sea, and fashioned to our purpose without
counsel from the book. Nothing that touches our
decks, under fitting advice, comes to harm. You
look incredulous, and ’tis in character to seem
so. If you refuse to listen to the lady of the
brigantine, at least lend an ear to your own laws.
Of what offence can you charge Master Seadrift, that
you hold him captive?”
“His redoubted name of ‘Skimmer
of the Seas’ were warranty to force him from
a sanctuary,” returned Ludlow, smiling.
“Though proof should fail of any immediate crime,
there is impunity for the arrest, since the law refuses
to protect him.”
“This is your boasted justice!
Rogues in authority combine to condemn an absent and
a silent man. But if you think to do your violence
with impunity, know there are those who take deep
interest in the welfare of that youth.”
“This is foolish bandying of
menaces,” said the captain, warmly. “If
you accept my offers, speak; and if you reject them,
abide the consequences.”
“I abide the consequences.
But since we cannot come to terms, as victor and the
submitting party, we may part in amity. Touch
my hand, Captain Ludlow, as one brave man should salute
another, though the next minute they are to grapple
at the throat.”
Ludlow hesitated. The proposal
was made with so frank and manly a mien, and the air
of the free-trader, as he leaned beyond the gunwale
of his boat, was so superior to his pursuit, that,
unwilling to seem churlish, or to be outdone in courtesy,
he reluctantly consented, and laid his palm within
that the other offered. The smuggler profited
by the junction to draw the boats nearer, and, to
the amazement of all who witnessed the action, he
stepped boldly into the yawl, and was seated, face
to face, with its officer in a moment.
“These are matters that are
not fit for every ear,” said the decided and
confident mariner, in an under tone, when he had made
this sudden change in the position of the parties.
“Deal with me frankly, Captain Ludlow: is
your prisoner left to brood on his melancholy, or does
he feel the consolation of knowing that others take
an interest in his welfare?”
“He does not want for sympathy,
Master Tiller since he has the pity of
the finest woman in America.”
“Ha! la belle Barberie owns
her esteem! is the conjecture right?”
“Unhappily, you are too near
the truth. The infatuated girl seems but to live
in his presence. She has so far forgotten the
opinions of others, as to follow him to my ship!”
Tiller listened intently, and, from
that instant, all concern disappeared from his countenance.
“He who is thus favored may,
for a moment, even forget the brigantine!” he
exclaimed, with all his natural recklessness of air.
“And the Alderman ?”
“Has more discretion than his
niece, since he did not permit her to come alone.”
“Enough. Captain
Ludlow, let what will follow. We part as friends.
Fear not, Sir, to touch the hand of a proscribed man,
again; it is honest after its own fashion, and many
is the peer and prince who keeps not so clean a palm.
Deal tenderly with that gay and rash young sailor;
he wants the discretion of an older head, but the
heart is kindness itself I would hazard
life, to shelter his but at every hazard
the brigantine must be saved. Adieu!”
There was strong emotion in the voice
of the mariner of the shawl, notwithstanding his high
bearing. Squeezing the hand of Ludlow, he passed
back into his own barge, with the ease and steadiness
of one who made the ocean his home.
“Adieu!” he repeated,
signing to his men to pull in the direction of the
shoals, where it was certain the ship could not follow.
“We may meet again; until then, adieu.”
“We are sure to meet, with the return of light.”
“Believe it not, brave gentleman.
Our lady will thrust the spars under her girdle, and
pass a fleet unseen. A sailor’s blessing
on you fair winds and a plenty; a safe
landfall, and a cheerful home! Deal kindly by
the boy, and, in all but evil wishes to my vessel,
success light on your ensign!”
The seamen of both boats dashed their
oars into the water at the same instant, and the two
parties were quickly without the hearing of the voice.