“She is won: we
are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They’ll have fleet steeds
that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar.
MARMION.
The liberated seamen once more pushed
forward, no longer guided by Isabella, who had got
as far as her knowledge of the place extended, and
were again, in nautical language, “brought up
all standing.” A priest, returning from
the death-bed of one of his flock, saw them gliding
along silently and in “Indian file.”
His head being full of good wine, death, the devil,
&c., and the place enjoying moreover the reputation
of being haunted, his imagination magnified and multiplied
the seven fugitives into a legion of devils, with
horns, tails, and fiery breath complete. Under
this impression he began to thunder forth a Latin form
of exorcism: “In nomine sanctae Trinitatis
et purissimae Virginis, exorcizo vos!
Apage, Satana! Vade retro,
diabole!” &c. &c. in such abominably bad Latin,
that a devil or a ghost of the least classical taste
would have incontinently fled to the Red Sea, without
waiting to hear another syllable of the formula that
sent him thither. The bawling of the priest awoke
several of the neighbors, and sundry night-capped heads
were protruded from the windows of the nearest houses;
but the proprietors, catching a glimpse of the objects
of the priest’s alarm, and not caring to play
bo-peep with the devil, closed and barred their
casements, and betook them to their beads.
The party glided on in the same swift,
silent pace; but the hindmost sailor, irritated by
the continued vociferation of the priest, and stumbling
at that moment over the carcase of a dog that had given
up the ghost a few hours before, seized it by the
hind leg, and flung it at the holy man with such true
aim and force, as brought him to the ground.
Luckily the monk swooned away with terror at this unexpected
buffeting in the flesh from Satan, and his noise was
consequently stopped. The next moment the party
plunged into the bushy path, and were instantly lost
to the view of the inhabitants, if indeed any were
looking after them.
Advancing swiftly along the rough
path, and losing their way two or three times, they
at length heard the light dash of the surf upon the
sand-beach; but, to their no small alarm, they also
plainly heard, from time to time, the low hum of voices,
though their language was not distinguishable.
Fearing the worst, Morton advanced alone to reconnoitre,
notwithstanding Isabella’s earnest entreaties
not to be left alone. Moving slowly and cautiously
towards the point whence proceeded the voices, the
soft sand rendering his footsteps inaudible, he approached
as near as he durst, and listened for some minutes
with the most fixed attention, to catch a word that
would indicate the character and nation of the speakers,
but in vain; and he was on the point of returning
to his friends in despair, when he plainly distinguished
the exclamation, “dn my eyes,”
uttered by some one at no great distance from where
he stood. No Sontag or Malibran ever warbled
a note that contained a hundredth part of the sweetness
and music that was comprised in that simple and unsophisticated
ejaculation; it decided in an instant, and beyond
all possibility of doubt, who and what was the speaker.
His joy was inconceivable, and he could scarce refrain
from giving vent to it in a loud shout. Returning
immediately, he communicated the joyful intelligence
to his friends; and the whole party, with light hearts
and rapid steps, advanced towards the beach.
Just as they stepped from the shade and covert of the
bushes, a pistol, the bright barrel of which glittered
in the star-light, was presented to Morton’s
breast; and the holder thereof, in a grum voice, commanded
him to “stand!”
“Heave to, and let’s overhaul
your papers,” continued the speaker, who was
immediately recognized, by the voice, as Jones, the
boatswain of the Albatross.
“Hush, hush, don’t speak
so loud; ’tis I, ’tis Morton Jones,
is that you, my old boy?”
“God bless you, Mr. Morton,
it is you indeed I thought ’twas a
raft of them thundering sojers bearing down upon us.
I’ve been lying to, under the lee of this ’ere
bush, for this two hours or more, waiting for you.”
The parleying between their “look-out
ship,” as they called Jones, and the strangers,
attracted the whole party of the Albatross to the spot;
and Morton, to his surprise, found himself and his
companions surrounded by at least thirty well-armed
men. His friend Walker, the second mate of the
ship, advanced, and testifying the sincerest affection,
welcomed him once more to liberty and the company
of his shipmates. Kind greetings and hearty welcomes
were given by the seamen, in their blunt, straight-forward
way, and not a few jokes were passed upon the four
liberated tars by their light-hearted messmates.
“I say, Tom Wentworth, how much
grub did the Don Degos allow you? a rat a-piece,
or the hind leg of a jackass among the four of you?”
“Ay,” said another, “and
Sundays they had a jackass’s head stewed in a
lantern, and stuffed with sogers’ coats.”
“Yes,” said a third, “and
green-hide soup three times a week.”
“Seasoned with brick-dust and
pig-weeds,” said a fourth, “by way of red
pepper and cabbages.”
“Well, never mind what they’ve
had,” said old Tom Jones, interposing, “one
thing’s sartain, they ha’n’t had
any steam, that’s jist as clear as mud.”
“You’re idle there, old
Tom Pipes; we’ve had as much good wine as we
could lay our sides to. But howsomever, if you’ve
got any white-eye in that black betty that you’re
rousing out of your pea-jacket pocket, I don’t
much care if I take a drop.”
“Poor children!” said
the boatswain, “they’ve been kept this
whole week in a snug, warm caliboose, and they’ll
catch cold if they’re out in the night air.”
So saying, he offered his junk-bottle
of New England to Morton, who declined it, and it
was then passed to his four fellow-prisoners, who
took a long, deliberate, steady aim at the stars through
it in succession.
By this time the two whale-boats and
yawls, that constituted the flotilla of the shore
party, were hauled as close to the beach as the shoalness
of the water would permit, and the embarkation commenced;
Morton carrying the fair Isabella in his arms, and
depositing her in the stern-sheets of the swiftest
of the boats, in which he found ample store of boat-cloaks
and pea-jackets to protect her from the night air and
heavy dews. Her attendant, Transita, was
about following her mistress, when Tom Jones, who
had no suspicion that there were more than one “young
gentleman” concerned in effecting the escape
of his shipmates, or about taking passage in the ship,
laid his huge hand upon her shoulder, exclaiming,
“Halloa! shipmate, where are
you bound to, if the wind stands?”
“What are you about there, Jones?”
shouted Morton from the boat, “she he,
I mean, is to go off with us. Take him through
the surf.”
“Ay, ay, sir; come, Mr. She he,
just get upon my shoulders, if you please; come, bear
a hand before it snows there, stow yourself
away in the starn-sheets there, that’s
the time of day shove her bows off, Sam,
and jump aboard so, pull round your larboard
oars now give way together.”
Their oars being all muffled, they glided, silently and
swiftly, towards the offing, edging away a little to the south, or farther side
of the bay, to avoid the possibility of observation from the shore. They
had proceeded swiftly for some minutes, and had passed the point on which the
battery stands without speaking a word, when the silence was broken by Morton,
“Where is the ship, Jones? do you see any thing
of her?”
The boatswain desisted rowing, and,
holding his head down as near the water as possible,
looked long and anxiously to the western horizon.
“I don’t see her,”
said he, “unless that’s her, here on our
starboard bow.”
“No, that’s the rock.”
By this time the other boats had come
up, and all agreed that nothing could be seen of the
ship. After a brief consultation, it was decided
that their safest plan was to continue rowing to the
westward, and that they would be sure of seeing the
ship at day-break; whereas if daylight found them
in the bay, they would most assuredly be seen, and
chased by the boats from the shore.
Isabella, whom most powerful excitement
had supported from the prison to the point of embarkation,
had since then, reclining on the stern-sheets of the
boat, and supported by her lover’s arms, been
in a state of stupor and silence; her thoughts were
in a complete whirl, almost amounting to delirium;
the kind and soothing voice of Morton she scarcely
heard, and she only awoke to consciousness during the
short deliberation just mentioned. In an agony
of terror at the doubt and uncertainty that she heard
expressed around her, she uttered the wildest exclamations,
and struggled with Morton and her attendant, who endeavored
in vain to pacify and sooth her. With unspeakable
anguish Morton witnessed, for half an hour, the confusion
of her intellects, till at length she sunk down exhausted,
and wept bitterly. At this moment a voice from
the yawl that had gone ahead, shouted, “There
she is!”
“Where, where?” asked a dozen eager voices.
“Right ahead.”
Every eye was instantly turned in
that direction, and, to their unutterable joy, they
saw, at the distance of about a mile, the light of
a signal-lantern. Every oar was most vigorously
plied, and in a few minutes the headmost boat was
greeted with “Boat ahoy!” from Captain
Williams “Albatross,” was the
reply, and the boats dashed up to the lee gangway
and fore-chains.
Isabella, whose buoyant spirit had
recovered its spring when she saw the danger was over,
was assisted up the side by her lover and two or three
of the most careful men. As soon as Morton stepped
upon deck, he was caught in the arms of his commander,
who was inarticulate from emotion. Morton, quietly
disengaging himself, presented his fair deliverer.
The old seaman folded her in his arms, and kissing
her cheek, drew her arm under his, and conducted her
to the cabin, whither they were followed by Morton.
Under the superintendence of the second
mate and boatswain the boats were now hoisted up and
secured; the ship wore with her head to the westward,
all sails set, and hot coffee, beef, bread, cheese,
&c. provided liberally for the “shore party;”
after which the watch was set, the deck “relieved”
by Captain Williams, and the Albatross, with her white
wings expanded, flew rapidly on her course before a
fresh easterly breeze.