CHAPTER III.

"There's Jonathan, that lucky lad,

Who knows it from the root, sir;--

He sucks in all that's to be had,

And always trades for boot, sir."

14,763D VERSE OF YANKEE DOODLE.

Il Capitano Smeet' was not sorry to get out of the government

house--palazzo, as some of the simple people of Elba called the

unambitious dwelling. He had been well badgered by the persevering

erudition of the vice-governatore; and, stored as he was with nautical

anecdotes and a tolerable personal acquaintance with sundry seaports,

for any expected occasion of this sort, he had never anticipated a

conversation which would aspire as high as the institutions, religion,

and laws of his adopted country. Had the worthy Andrea heard the

numberless maledictions that the stranger muttered between his teeth, as

he left the house, it would have shocked all his sensibilities, if it

did not revive his suspicions.

It was now night; but a starry, calm, voluptuous evening, such as are

familiar to those who are acquainted with the Mediterranean and its

shores. There was scarcely a breath of wind, though the cool air, that

appeared to be a gentle respiration of the sea, induced a few idlers

still to linger on the heights, where there was a considerable extent of

land that might serve for a promenade. Along this walk the mariner

proceeded, undetermined, for the moment, what to do next. He had

scarcely got into the open space, however, before a female, with her

form closely enveloped in a mantle, brushed near him, anxiously gazing

into his face. Her motions were too quick and sudden for him to obtain a

look in return; but, perceiving that she held her way along the heights,

beyond the spot most frequented by the idlers, he followed until

she stopped.

"Ghita!" said the young man, in a tone of delight, when he had got near

enough to the female to recognize a face and form she no longer

attempted to conceal; "this _is_ being fortunate, indeed, and saves a

vast deal of trouble. A thousand, thousand thanks, dearest Ghita, for

this one act of kindness. I might have brought trouble on you, as well

as on myself, in striving to find your residence."

"It is for that reason, Raoul, that I have ventured so much more than is

becoming in my sex, to meet you. A thousand eyes, in this gossiping

little town, are on your lugger, at this moment, and be certain they

will also be on its captain, as soon as it is known he has landed. I

fear you do not know for what you and your people are suspected, at this

very instant!"

"For nothing discreditable, I hope, dear Ghita, if it be only not to

dishonor your friends!"

"Many think, and say, you are Frenchmen, and that the English flag is

only a disguise."

"If that be all, we must bear the infamy," answered Raoul Yvard,

laughing. "Why, this is just what we are to a man, a single American

excepted, who is an excellent fellow to make out British commissions,

and help us to a little English when harder pushed than common; and why

should we be offended, if the good inhabitants of Porto Ferrajo take us

for what we are?"

"Not offended, Raoul, but endangered. If the vice-governatore gets this

notion, he will order the batteries to fire upon you, and will destroy

you as an enemy."

"Not he, Ghita. He is too fond of le Capitaine Smeet', to do so cruel a

thing; and then he must shift all his guns, before they will hurt _le

Feu-Follet_ where she lies. I never leave my little Jack-o'-Lantern[1]

within reach of an enemy's hand. Look here, Ghita; you can see her

through this opening in the houses--that dark spot on the bay,

there--and you will perceive no gun from any battery in Porto Ferrajo

can as much as frighten, much less harm her."

[1] The English of _Feu Follet_.

"I know her position, Raoul, and understand why you anchored in that

spot. I knew, or thought I knew you, from the first moment you came in

plain sight; and so long as you remained outside, I was not sorry to

look on so old a friend--nay, I will go further, and say I rejoiced, for

it seemed to me you passed so near the island just to let some whom you

knew to be on it understand you had not forgotten them; but when you

came into the bay, I thought you mad!"

"Mad I should have been, dearest Ghita, had I lived longer without

seeing you. What are these _misérables_ of Elbans, that I should fear

them! They have no cruiser--only a few feluccas--all of which are not

worth the trouble of burning. Let them but point a finger at us, and we

will tow their Austrian polacre out into the bay, and burn her before

their eyes. Le Feu-Follet deserves her name; she is here, there, and

everywhere, before her enemies suspect her."

"But her enemies suspect her now, and you cannot be too cautious. My

heart was in my throat a dozen times, while the batteries were firing at

you this evening."

"And what harm did they? they cost the Grand Duke two cartridges, and

two shot, without even changing the lugger's course! You have seen too

much of these things, Ghita, to be alarmed by smoke and noise."

"I have seen enough of these things, Raoul, to know that a heavy shot,

fired from these heights, would have gone through your little

Feu-Follet, and, coming out under water, would have sunk you to the

bottom of the Mediterranean."

"We should have had our boats, then," answered Raoul Yvard, with an

indifference that was not affected, for reckless daring was his vice,

rather than his virtue; "besides, a shot must first hit before it can

harm, as the fish must be taken before it can be cooked. But enough of

this, Ghita; I get quite enough of shot, and ships, and sinkings, in

everyday life, and, now I have at last found this blessed moment, we

will not throw away the opportunity by talking of such matters--"

"Nay, Raoul, I can think of nothing else, and therefore can talk of

nothing else. Suppose the vice-governatore should suddenly take it into

his head to send a party of soldiers to le Feu-Follet, with orders to

seize her--what would then be your situation?"

"Let him; and I would send a boat's crew to his palazzo, here"--the

conversation was in French, which Ghita spoke fluently, though with an

Italian accent--"and take him on a cruise after the English and his

beloved Austrians! Bah!--the idea will not cross his constitutional

brain, and there is little use in talking about it. In the morning, I

will send my prime minister, mon Barras, mon Carnot, mon Cambacérès, mon

Ithuel Bolt, to converse with him on politics and religion."

"Religion," repeated Ghita, in a saddened tone; "the less you say on

that holy subject, Raoul, the better I shall like it, and the better it

will be for yourself, in the end. The state of your country makes your

want of religion matter of regret, rather than of accusation, but it is

none the less a dreadful evil."

"Well, then," resumed the sailor, who felt he had touched a dangerous

ground, "we will talk of other things. Even supposing we are taken, what

great evil have we to apprehend? We are honest corsairs, duly

commissioned, and acting under the protection of the French Republic,

one and undivided, and can but be made prisoners of war. That is a

fortune which has once befallen me, and no greater calamity followed

than my having to call myself le Capitaine Smeet', and finding out the

means of mystifying le vice-governatore."

Ghita laughed, in spite of the fears she entertained, for it was one of

the most powerful of the agencies the sailor employed in making others

converts to his opinions, to cause them to sympathize with his

light-hearted gayety, whether it suited their natural temperaments or

not. She knew that Raoul had already been a prisoner in England two

years, where, as he often said himself, he stayed just long enough to

acquire a very respectable acquaintance with the language, if not with

the institutions, manners, and religion, when he made his escape aided

by the American called Ithuel Bolt, an impressed seaman of our own

Republic, who, fully entering into all the plans imagined by his more

enterprising friend and fellow-sufferer, had cheerfully enlisted in the

execution of his future schemes of revenge. States, like powerful

individuals in private life, usually feel themselves too strong to allow

any considerations of the direct consequences of departures from the

right to influence their policy; and a nation is apt to fancy its power

of such a character, as to despise all worldly amends, while its moral

responsibility is divided among too many to make it a matter of much

concern to its particular citizens. Nevertheless, the truth will show

that none are so low but they may become dangerous to the highest; and

even powerful communities seldom fail to meet with their punishment for

every departure from justice. It would seem, indeed, that a principle

pervades nature, which renders it impossible for man to escape the

consequences of his own evil deeds, even in this life; as if God had

decreed the universal predominance of truth and the never-failing

downfall of falsehood from the beginning; the success of wrong being

ever temporary, while the triumph of the right is eternal. To apply

these consoling considerations to the matter more immediately before us:

The practice of impressment, in its day, raised a feeling among the

seamen of other nations, as well as, in fact, among those of Great

Britain herself, that probably has had as much effect in destroying the

prestige of her nautical invincibility, supported, as was that prestige,

by a vast existing force, as any other one cause whatever. It was

necessary to witness the feeling of hatred and resentment that was

raised by the practice of this despotic power, more especially among

those who felt that their foreign birth ought at least to have insured

them immunity from the abuse, in order fully to appreciate what might so

readily become its consequences. Ithuel Bolt, the seaman just mentioned,

was a proof, in a small way, of the harm that even an insignificant

individual can effect, when his mind is fully and wholly bent on

revenge. Ghita knew him well; and, although she little liked either his

character or his appearance, she had often been obliged to smile at the

narrative of the deceptions he practised on the English, and of the

thousand low inventions he had devised to do them injury. She was not

slow, now, to imagine that his agency had not been trifling in carrying

on the present fraud.

"You do not openly call your lugger le Feu-Follet, Raoul," she answered,

after a minute's pause; "that would be a dangerous name to utter, even

in Porto Ferrajo. It is not a week since I heard a mariner dwelling on

her misdeeds, and the reasons that all good Italians have to detest her.

It is fortunate the man is away, or he could not fail to know you."

"Of that I am not so certain, Ghita. We alter our paint often, and, at

need, can alter our rig. You may be certain, however, that we hide our

Jack-o'-Lantern, and sail under another name. The lugger, now she is in

the English service, is called the 'Ving-and-Ving.'"

"I heard the answer given to the hail from the shore, but it sounded

different from this."

"Non--Ving-and-Ving. Ithuel answered for us, and you may be sure he can

speak his own tongue. Ving-and-Ving is the word, and he pronounces it

as I do."

"Ving-y-Ving!" repeated Ghita, in her pretty Italian tones, dropping

naturally into the vice-governatore's fault of pronunciation--"it is an

odd name, and I like it less than Feu-Follet."

"I wish, dearest Ghita, I could persuade you to like the name of Yvard,"

rejoined the young man, in a half-reproachful, half-tender manner, "and

I should care nothing for any other. You accuse me of disrespect for

priests; but no son could ever kneel to a father for his blessing, half

so readily or half so devoutly, as I could kneel with thee before any

friar in Italy, to receive that nuptial benediction which I have so

often asked at your hand, but which you have so constantly and so

cruelly refused."

"I am afraid the name would not then be Feu-Follet, but Ghita-Folie,"

said the girl, laughing, though she felt a bitter pang at the heart,

that cost her an effort to control; "no more of this now, Raoul; we may

be observed and watched; it is necessary that we separate."

A hurried conversation, of more interest to the young couple themselves

than it would prove to the reader, though it might not have been wholly

without the latter, but which it would be premature to relate, now

followed, when Ghita left Raoul on the hill, insisting that she knew the

town too well to have any apprehensions about threading its narrow and

steep streets, at any hour, by herself. This much, in sooth, must be

said in favor of Andrea Barrofaldi's administration of justice; he had

made it safe for the gentle, the feeble, and the poor, equally, to move

about the island by day or by night; it seldom happening that so great

an enemy to peace and tranquillity appeared among his simple dependants,

as was the fact at this precise moment.

In the mean time, there was not quite as much tranquillity in Porto

Ferrajo as the profound silence which reigned in the place might have

induced a stranger to imagine. Tommaso Tonti was a man of influence,

within his sphere, as well, as the vice-governatore; and having parted

from Vito Viti, as has been related, he sought the little _clientelle _

of padroni and piloti, who were in the habit of listening to his

opinions as if they were oracles. The usual place of resort of this set,

after dark, was a certain house kept by a widow of the name of Benedetta

Galopo, the uses of which were plainly enough indicated by a small bush

that hung dangling from a short pole, fastened above the door. If

Benedetta knew anything of the proverb that "good wine needs no bush,"

she had not sufficient faith in the contents of her own casks to trust

to their reputation; for this bush of hers was as regularly renewed as

its withering leaves required. Indeed, it was a common remark among her

customers, that her bush was always as fresh as her face, and that the

latter was one of the most comely that was to be met with on the island;

a circumstance that aided much indifferent wine in finding a market.

Benedetta bore a reasonably good name, nevertheless, though it was

oftener felt, perhaps, than said, that she was a confirmed coquette. She

tolerated 'Maso principally on two accounts; because, if he were old and

unattractive in his own person, many of his followers were among the

smartest seamen of the port, and because he not only drank his full

proportion, but paid with punctuality. These inducements rendered the

pilot always a welcome guest at La Santa Maria degli Venti, as the house

was called, though it had no other sign than the often-renewed bush

already mentioned.

At the very moment, then, when Raoul Yvard and Ghita parted on the hill,

'Maso was seated in his usual place at the table in Benedetta's upper

room, the windows of which commanded as full a view of the lugger as the

hour permitted; that craft being anchored about a cable's length

distant, and, as a sailor might have expressed it, just abeam. On this

occasion he had selected the upper room, and but three companions,

because it was his wish that as few should enter into his counsels as at

all comported with the love of homage to his own experience. The party

had been assembled a quarter of an hour, and there had been time to

cause the tide to ebb materially in the flask, which, it may be well to

tell the reader at once, contained very little less than half a gallon

of liquor, such as it was.

"I have told it all to the podestà," said 'Maso, with an important

manner, as he put down his glass, after potation the second, which

quite equalled potation the first in quantity; "yes, I have told it all

to Vito Viti, and no doubt he has told it to Il Signor Vice-governatore,

who now knows as much about the whole matter as either of us four.

Cospetto!--to think such a thing dare happen in a haven like Porto

Ferrajo! Had it come to pass over on the other side of the island, at

Porto Longone, one wouldn't think so much of it, for _they_ are never

much on the lookout: but to take place here, in the very capital of

Elba, I should as soon have expected it in Livorno!"

"But, 'Maso," put in Daniele Bruno, in the manner of one who was a

little sceptical, "I have often seen the pavilion of the Inglese, and

this is as much like that which all their frigates and corvettes wear,

as one of our feluccas is like another. The flag, at least, is right."

"What signifies a flag, Daniele, when a French hand can hoist an English

ensign as easily as the king of Inghilterra himself? If that lugger was

not built by the Francese, you were not built by an Italian father and

mother. But I should not think so much of the hull, for that may have

been captured, as the English take many of their enemies on the high

seas; but look at the rigging and sails--Santa Maria! I could go to the

shop of the very sailmaker, in Marseilles, who made that foresail! His

name is Pierre Benoit, and a very good workman he is, as all will allow

who have had occasion to employ him."

This particularity greatly aided the argument; common minds being seldom

above yielding to the circumstances which are so often made to

corroborate imaginary facts. Tommaso Tonti, though so near the truth as

to his main point--the character of the visitor--was singularly out as

to the sail, notwithstanding; le Feu-Follet having been built, equipped,

and manned at Nantes, and Pierre Benoit never having seen her or her

foresail either; but it mattered not, in the way of discussion and

assertion, one sailmaker being as good as another, provided he

was French.

"And have you mentioned t his to the podestà?" inquired Benedetta, who

stood with the empty flask in her hand, listening to the discourse; "I

should think that sail would open his eyes."

"I cannot say I have; but then I told him so many other things more to

the point, that he cannot do less than believe this, when he hears it.

Signor Viti promised to meet me here, after he has had a conversation

with the vice-governatore; and we may now expect him every minute."

"Il Signor Podestà will be welcome," said Benedetta, wiping off a spare

table, and bustling round the room to make things look a little smarter

than they ordinarily did; "he may frequent grander wine-houses than

this, but he will hardly find better liquor."

"Poverina!--Don't think that the podestà comes here on any such errand;

he comes to meet _me,_" answered 'Maso, with an indulgent smile; "he

takes his wine too often on the heights, to wish to come as low as this

after a glass. Friends of mine _(amigi mii),_ there is wine up at that

house, that, when the oil is once out of the neck of the flask[2], goes

down a man's throat as smoothly as if it were all oil itself! I could

drink a flask of it without once stopping to take breath. It is that

liquor which makes the nobles so light and airy."

[2] It is a practice in Tuscany to put a few drops of oil in the neck of

each flask of the more delicate wines, to exclude the air.

"I know the washy stuff," put in Benedetta, with more warmth than she

was used to betray to her customers; "well may you call it smooth, a

good spring running near each of the wine-presses that have made it. I

have seen some of it that even oil would not float on!"

This assertion was a fair counterpoise to that of the sail, being about

as true. But Benedetta had too much experience in the inconstancy of

men, not to be aware that if the three or four customers who were

present should seriously take up the notion that the island contained

any better liquor than that she habitually placed before them, her

value might be sensibly diminished in their eyes. As became a woman who

had to struggle singly with the world, too, her native shrewdness taught

her, that the best moment to refute a calumny was to stop it as soon as

it began to circulate, and her answer was as warm in manner as it was

positive in terms. This was an excellent opening for an animated

discussion, and one would have been very likely to occur, had there not

fortunately been steps heard without, that induced 'Maso to expect the

podestà. Sure enough, the door opened, and Vito Viti appeared, followed,

to the astonishment of all the guests, and to the absolute awe of

Benedetta, by the vice-governatore himself.

The solution of this unexpected visit is very easily given. After the

departure of the Capitano Smees, Vito Viti returned to the subject of

'Maso's suspicions, and by suggesting certain little circumstances in

the mariner's manner, that he had noted during the interview, he so far

succeeded in making an impression on himself, that, in the end, his own

distrust revived, and with it that of the deputy-governor. Neither,

however, could be said to be more than uneasy, and the podestà happening

to mention his appointment with the pilot, Andrea determined to

accompany him, in order to reconnoitre the strange craft in person. Both

the functionaries wore their cloaks, by no means an unusual thing in the

cool night air of the coast, even in midsummer, which served them for

all the disguise that circumstances required.

"Il Signor Vice-governatore!" almost gasped Benedetta, dusting a chair,

and then the table, and disposing the former near the latter by a sort

of mechanical process, as if only one errand could ever bring a guest

within her doors; "your eccellenza is most welcome; and it is an honor I

could oftener ask. We are humble people down here at the water side, but

I hope we are just as good Christians as if we lived upon the hill."

"Doubt it not, worthy Bettina--"

"My name is Benedetta, at your eccellenza's command-Benedittina if it

please the vice-governatore; but not Bettina. We think much of our

names, down here at the water side, eccellenza."

"Let it be so, then, good Benedetta, and I make no doubt you are

excellent Christians.--A flask of your wine, if it be convenient."

The woman dropped a curtsey that was full of gratitude; and the glance

of triumph that she cast at her other guests may be said to have

terminated the discussion that was about to commence, as the dignitaries

appeared. It disposed of the question of the wine at once, and for ever

silenced cavilling. If the vice-governatore could drink her liquor, what

mariner would henceforth dare calumniate it!

"Eccellenza, with a thousand welcomes," Benedetta continued, as she

placed the flask on the table, after having carefully removed the cotton

and the oil with her own plump hand; this being one of half a dozen

flasks of really sound, well-flavored, Tuscan liquor, that she kept for

especial occasions; as she well might, the cost being only a paul, or

ten cents for near half a gallon; "Eccellenza, a million times welcome.

This is an honor that don't befall the Santa Maria degli Venti more than

once in a century; and you, too, Signor Podestà, once before only have

you ever had leisure to darken my poor door."

"We bachelors"--the podestà, as well as the vice-governor, belonged to

the fraternity--"we bachelors are afraid to trust ourselves too often in

the company of a sprightly widow like yourself, whose beauty has rather

improved than lessened by a few years."

This brought a coquettish answer, during which time Andrea Barrofaldi,

having first satisfied himself that the wine might be swallowed with

impunity, was occupied in surveying the party of silent and humble

mariners, who were seated at the other table. His object was to

ascertain how far he might have committed himself, by appearing in such

a place, when his visit could not well be attributed to more than one

motive. 'Maso he knew, as the oldest pilot of the place, and he had also

some knowledge of Daniele Bruno; but the three other seamen were

strangers to him.

"Inquire if we are among friends, here, and worthy subjects of the Grand

Duke, all," observed Andrea to Vito Viti, in a low voice.

"Thou hearest, 'Maso," observed the podestà; "canst thou answer for all

of thy companions?"

"Every one of them, Signore: this is Daniele Bruno, whose father was

killed in a battle with the Algerines, and whose mother was the daughter

of a mariner, as well known in Elba as--"

"Never mind the particulars, Tommaso Tonti," interrupted the

vice-governatore--"it is sufficient that thou knowest all thy companions

to be honest men, and faithful servants of the _sovrano_. You all know,

most probably, the errand which has brought the Signor Viti and myself

to this house, to-night?"

The men looked at each other, as the ill-instructed are apt to do, when

it becomes necessary to answer a question that concerns many; assisting

the workings of their minds, as it might be, with the aid of the senses;

and then Daniele Bruno took on himself the office of spokesman.

"Signore, vostro eccellenza, we think we do," answered the man. "Our

fellow, 'Maso here, has given us to understand that he suspects the

Inglese that is anchored in the bay to be no Inglese at all, but either

a pirate or a Frenchman. The blessed Maria preserve us! but in these

troubled times it does not make much difference which."

"I will not say as much as that, friend--for one would be an outcast

among all people, while the other would have the rights which shield the

servants of civilized nations," returned the scrupulous and just-minded

functionary. "The time was when His Imperial Majesty, the emperor, and

his illustrious brother, our sovereign, the Grand Duke, did not allow

that the republican government of France was a lawful government; but

the fortune of war removed his scruples, and a treaty of peace has

allowed the contrary. Since the late alliance, it is our duty to

consider all Frenchmen as enemies, though it by no means follows that we

are to consider them as pirates."

"But their corsairs seize all our craft, Signore, and treat their people

as if they were no better than dogs; then, they tell me that they are

not Christians--no, not even Luterani or heretics!"

"That religion does not flourish among them, is true," answered Andrea,

who loved so well to discourse on such subjects, that he would have

stopped to reason on religion or manners with the beggar to whom he gave

a pittance, did he only meet with encouragement; "but it is not as bad

in France, on this important head, as it has been; and we may hope that

there will be further improvement in due time."

"But, Signor Vice-governatore," put in 'Maso, "these people have treated

the holy father and his states in a way that one would not treat an

Infidel or a Turk!"

"Aye, that is it, Signori," observed Benedetta--"a poor woman cannot go

to mass without having her mind disturbed by the thoughts of the wrongs

done the head of the church. Had these things come from Luterani, it

might have been borne; but they say the Francese were once all good

Catholics!"

"So were the Luterani, bella Benedetta, to their chief schismatic and

leader, the German monk himself."

This piece of information caused great surprise, even the podestà

himself turning an inquiring glance at his superior, as much as to

acknowledge his own wonder that a Protestant should ever have been

anything but a Protestant--or rather, a Lutheran anything but a

Lutheran--the word Protestant being too significant to be in favor among

those who deny there were any just grounds for a protest at all. That

Luther had ever been a Romanist was perfectly wonderful, even in the

eyes of Vito Viti.

"Signore, you would hardly mislead these honest people, in a matter as

grave as this!" exclaimed the podestà.

"I do but tell you truth; and one of these days you shall hear the whole

story, neighbor Viti. 'Tis worth an hour of leisure to any man, and is

very consoling and useful to a Christian. But whom have you below,

Benedetta--I hear steps on the stairs, and wish not to be seen."

The widow stepped promptly forward to meet her new guests, and to show

them into a commoner room, below stairs, when her movement was

anticipated by the door's opening, and a man's standing on the

threshold. It was now too late to prevent the intrusion, and a little

surprise at the appearance of the new-comer held all mute and observant

for a minute.

The person who had followed his ears, and thus reached the sanctum

sanctorum of Benedetta, was no other than Ithuel Bolt, the American

seaman, already named in the earlier part of this chapter. He was backed

by a Genoese, who had come in the double capacity of interpreter and

boon companion. That the reader may the better understand the character

he has to deal with, however, it may be necessary to digress, by giving

a short account of the history, appearance, and peculiarities of the

former individual.

Ithuel Bolt was a native of what, in this great Union, is called the

Granite State, Notwithstanding he was not absolutely made of the stone

in question, there was an absence of the ordinary symptoms of natural

feeling about him, that had induced many of his French acquaintances in

particular to affirm that there was a good deal more of marble in his

moral temperament, at least, than usually fell to the lot of human

beings. He had the outline of a good frame, but it was miserably

deficient in the filling up. The bone predominated; the sinews came next

in consideration, nor was the man without a proper share of muscle; but

this last was so disposed of as to present nothing but angles, whichever

way he was viewed. Even his thumbs and fingers were nearer square than

round; and his very neck, which was bare, though a black silk kerchief

was tied loosely round the throat, had a sort of pentagon look about it,

that defied all symmetry or grace. His stature was just six feet and an

inch, when he straightened himself; as he did from time to time,

seemingly with a desire to relieve a very inveterate stoop in his

shoulders; though it was an inch or two less in the position he most

affected. His hair was dark, and his skin had got several coats of

confirmed brown on it, by exposure, though originally rather fair; while

the features were good, the forehead being broad and full, and the mouth

positively handsome. This singular countenance was illuminated by two

keen, restless, whitish eyes, that resembled, not spots on the sun, but

rather suns on a spot.

Ithuel had gone through all the ordinary vicissitudes of an American

life, beneath those pursuits which are commonly thought to be confined

to the class of gentlemen. He had been farmer's boy, printer's devil,

schoolmaster, stage-driver, and tin-pedlar, before he ever saw the sea.

In the way of what he called "chores," too, he had practised all the

known devices of rustic domestic economy; having assisted even in the

washing and house-cleaning, besides having passed the evenings of an

entire winter in making brooms.

Ithuel had reached his thirtieth year before he dreamed of going to sea.

An accident, then, put preferment in this form before his eyes, and he

engaged as the mate of a small coaster, for his very first voyage.

Fortunately, the master never found out his deficiencies, for Ithuel had

a self-possessed, confident way with him, that prevented discovery,

until they were outside of the port from which they sailed, when the

former was knocked overboard by the main boom, and drowned. Most men, so

circumstanced, would have returned, but Bolt never laid his hand to the

plough and looked back. Besides, one course was quite easy to him as

another. Whatever he undertook he usually completed, in some fashion or

other, though it were often much better had it never been attempted.

Fortunately it was summer, the wind was fair, and the crew wanted little

ordering; and as it was quite a matter of course to steer in the right

direction, until the schooner was carried safely into her proper port,

she arrived safely; her people swearing that the new mate was the

easiest and _cleverest_ officer they had ever sailed with. And well they

might, for Ithuel took care not to issue an order until he had heard it

suggested in terms by one of the hands; and then he never failed to

repeat it, word for word, as if it were a suggestion of his own. As for

the reputation of "cleverest" officer, which he so easily obtained, it

will be understood, of course, that the term was used in the provincial

signification that is so common in the part of the world from which

Ithuel came. He was "clever" in this sense, precisely in proportion as

he was ignorant. His success, on this occasion, gained him friends, and

he was immediately sent out again as the regular master of the craft, in

which he had so unexpectedly received his promotion. He now threw all

the duty on the mate; but so ready was he in acquiring, that by the end

of six months he was a much better sailor than most Europeans would have

made in three years. As the pitcher that goes too often to the well is

finally broken, so did Ithuel meet with shipwreck, at last, in

consequence of gross ignorance on the subject of navigation. This

induced him to try a long voyage, in a more subordinate situation, until

in the course of time he was impressed by the commander of an English

frigate, who had lost so many of his men by the yellow fever that he

seized upon all he could lay his hands on, to supply their places, even

Ithuel being acceptable in such a strait.

The Wing-and-Wing; Or, Le Feu-Follet · 第 3 / 30 章