“The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.”
_Apoth._ “My poverty, but not my will, consents.”
_Romeo and Juliet._
The Rover arrested his step, as the other disappeared and stood for
more than a minute in an attitude of high and self-gratulating triumph.
It was quite apparent he was exulting in his success. But, though his
intelligent face betrayed the satisfaction of the inward man, it was
illumined by no expression of vulgar joy. It was the countenance of one
who was suddenly relieved from intense care, rather than that of a man
who was greedy of profiting by the services of others. Indeed, it would
not have been difficult, for a close and practised observer, to have
detected a shade of regret in the lightings of his seductive smile, or
in the momentary flashes of his changeful eye. The feeling, however,
quickly passed away, and his whole figure and countenance resumed the
ordinary easy mien in which he most indulged in his hours of
retirement.
After allowing sufficient time for the boy to conduct Wilder to the
necessary cabin, and to put him in possession of the regulations for
the police of the ship, the Captain again touched the gong, and once
more summoned the former to his presence. The lad had however, to
approach the elbow of his master, and to speak thrice, before the other
was conscious that he had answered his call.
“Roderick,” said the Rover, after a long pause, “are you there?”
“I am here,” returned a low, and seemingly a mournful voice.
“Ah! you gave him the regulations?”
“I did.”
“And he reads?”
“He reads.”
“It is well. I would speak to the General. Roderick, you must have need
of rest; good night; let the General be summoned to a council, and—Good
night, Roderick.”
The boy made an assenting reply; but, instead of springing, with his
former alacrity, to execute the order he lingered a moment nigh his
master’s chair. Failing, however, in his wish to catch his eye, he
slowly and reluctantly descended the stairs which led into the lower
cabins, and was seen no more.
It is needless to describe the manner in which the General made his
second appearance. It differed in no particular from his former entrée,
except that, on this occasion, the whole of his person was developed.
He appeared a tall, upright form, that was far from being destitute of
natural grace and proportions, but which had been so exquisitely
drilled into simultaneous movement, that the several members had so far
lost the power of volition, as to render it impossible for one to stir,
without producing some thing like a correspondent demonstration in all
its fellows. This rigid and well-regulated personage, after making a
formal military bow to his superior, helped himself to a chair, in
which, after some little time lost in preparation, he seated himself in
silence. The Rover seemed conscious of his presence; for he
acknowledged his salute by a gentle inclination of his own head; though
he did not appear to think it necessary to suspend his ruminations the
more on that account. At length, however, he turned short upon his
companion, and said abruptly,—
“General, the campaign is not finished.”
“What remains? the field is won, and the enemy is a prisoner.”
“Ay, your part of the adventure is well achieved, but much of mine
remains to be done. You saw the youth in the lower cabin?”
“I did.”
“And how find you his appearance?”
“Maritime.”
“That is as much as to say, you like him not.”
“I like discipline.”
“I am much mistaken if you do not find him to your taste on the
quarter-deck. Let that be as it may, I have still a favour to ask of
you!”
“A favour!—it is getting late.”
“Did I say ‘a favour?’ there is duty to be yet done.”
“I wait your orders.”
“It is necessary that we use great precaution for, as you know”——
“I wait your orders,” laconically repeated the other.
The Rover compressed his mouth, and a scornful smile struggled about
the nether lip; but it changed into a look half bland, half
authoritative, as he continued,—
“You will find two seamen, in a skiff, alongside the ship; the one is
white, and the other is black. These men you will have conducted into
the vessel—into one of the forward state-rooms—and you will have them
both thoroughly intoxicated.”
“It shall be done,” returned he who was called the General, rising, and
marching with long strides towards the door of the cabin.
“Pause a moment,” exclaimed the Rover; “what agent will you use?”
“Nightingale has the strongest head but one in the ship.”
“He is too far gone already. I sent him ashore, to look about for any
straggling seamen who might like our service; and I found him in a
tavern, with all the fastenings off his tongue, declaiming like a
lawyer who had taken a fee from both parties Besides, he had a quarrel
with one of these very men, and it is probable they would get to blows
in their cups.”
“I will do it myself. My night-cap is waiting for me; and it is only to
lace it a little tighter than common.”
The Rover seemed content with this assurance; for he expressed his
satisfaction with a familiar nod of the head. The soldier was now about
to depart, when he was again interrupted.
“One thing more, General; there is your captive.”—
“Shall I make him drunk too?”
“By no means. Let him be conducted hither.”
The General made an ejaculation of assent, and left the cabin. “It were
weak,” thought the Rover as he resumed his walk up and down the
apartment, “to trust too much to an ingenuous face and youthful
enthusiasm. I am deceived if the boy has not had reason to think
himself disgusted with the world, and ready to embark in any romantic
enterprise but, still, to be deceived might be fatal therefore will I
be prudent, even to excess of caution. He is tied in an extraordinary
manner to these two seamen I would I knew his history. But all that
will come in proper time. The men must remain as hostages for his own
return, and for his faith. If he prove false, why, they are seamen;—and
many men are expended in this wild service of ours! It is well
arranged; and no suspicion of any plot on our part will wound the
sensitive pride of the boy, if he be, as I would gladly think, a true
man.”
Such was, in a great manner, the train of thought in which the Rover
indulged, for many minutes, after his military companion had left him.
His lips moved; smiles, and dark shades of thought, in turn, chased
each other from his speaking countenance, which betrayed all the sudden
and violent changes that denote the workings of a busy spirit within.
While thus engrossed in mind, his step became more rapid, and, at
times, he gesticulated a little extravagantly when he found himself, in
a sudden turn, unexpectedly confronted by a form that seemed to rise on
his sight like a vision.
While most engaged in his own humours, two powerful seamen had,
unheeded, entered the cabin; and, after silently depositing a human
figure in a seat, they withdrew without speaking. It was before this
personage that the Rover now found himself. The gaze was mutual, long,
and uninterrupted by a syllable from either party. Surprise and
indecision held the Rover mute, while wonder and alarm appeared to have
literally frozen the faculties of the other. At length the former,
suffering a quaint and peculiar smile to gleam for a moment across his
countenance, said abruptly,—
“I welcome sir Hector Homespun!”
The eyes of the confounded tailor—for it was no other than that
garrulous acquaintance of the reader who had fallen into the toils of
the Rover—the eyes of the good-man rolled from right to left,
embracing, in their wanderings, the medley of elegance and warlike
preparation that they every where met never failing to return, from
each greedy look, to devour the figure that stood before him.
“I say, Welcome, sir Hector Homespun!” repeated the Rover.
“The Lord will be lenient to the sins of a miserable father of seven
small children!” ejaculated the tailor. “It is but little, valiant
Pirate, that can be gotten from a hard-working, upright tradesman, who
sits from the rising to the setting sun, bent over his labour.”
“These are debasing terms for chivalry, sir Hector,” interrupted the
Rover, laying his hand on the little riding whip, which had been thrown
carelessly on the cabin table, and, tapping the shoulder of the tailor
with the same, as though he were a sorcerer, and would disenchant the
other with the touch: “Cheer up, honest and loyal subject: Fortune has
at length ceased to frown: it is but a few hours since you complained
that no custom came to your shop from this vessel, and now are you in a
fair way to do the business of the whole ship.”
“Ah! honourable and magnanimous Rover,” rejoined Homespun, whose
fluency returned with his senses, “I am an impoverished and undone man.
My life has been one of weary and probationary hardships. Five bloody
and cruel wars”——
“Enough. I have said that Fortune was just beginning to smile. Clothes
are as necessary to gentlemen of our profession as to the parish
priest. You shall not baste a seam without your reward. Behold!” he
added, touching the spring of a secret drawer, which flew open, and
discovered a confused pile of gold, in which the coins of nearly every
Christian people were blended, “we are not without the means of paying
those who serve us faithfully.”
The sudden exhibition of a horde of wealth, which not only greatly
exceeded any thing of the kind he had ever before witnessed, but which
actually surpassed his limited imaginative powers, was not without its
effect on the sensitive feelings of the good-man After feasting on the
sight, for the few moments that his companion left the treasure exposed
to view, he turned to the envied possessor of so much gold, and
demanded,—the tones of increased confidence gradually stealing into his
voice, as the inward man felt additional motives of encouragement,—
“And what am I expected to perform, mighty Seaman, for my portion of
this wealth?”
“That which you daily perform on the land—to cut, to fashion, and to
sew. Perhaps, too, your talent at a masquerade dress may be taxed, from
time to time.”
“Ah! they are lawless and irreligious devices of the enemy, to lead men
into sin and worldly abominations But, worthy Mariner, there is my
disconsolate consort, Desire; though stricken in years, and given to
wordy strife, yet is she the lawful partner of my bosom, and the mother
of a numerous offspring.”
“She shall not want. This is an asylum for distressed husbands. Your
men, who have not force enough to command at home, come to my ship as
to a city of refuge. You will make the seventh who has found peace by
fleeing to this sanctuary. Their families are supported by ways best
known to ourselves, and all parties are content. This is not the least
of my benevolent acts.”
“It is praiseworthy and just, honourable Captain and I hope that Desire
and her offspring may not be forgotten. The labourer is surely worthy
of his hire and if, peradventure, I should toil in your behalf through
stress of compulsion, I hope the good and her young, may fatten on your
liberality.”
“You have my word; they shall not be neglected.”
“Perhaps, just Gentleman, if an allotment should be made in advance
from that stock of gold, the mind of my consort would be relieved, her
inquiries after my fate not so searching, and her spirit less troubled.
I have reason to understand the temper of Desire; and am well
identified, that, while the prospect of want is before her eyes, there
will be a clamour in Newport. Now that the Lord has graciously given me
the hopes of a respite, there can be no sin in wishing to enjoy it in
peace.”
Although the Rover was far from believing, with his captive, that the
tongue of Desire could disturb the harmony of his ship, he was in the
humour to be indulgent. Touching the spring again, he took a handful of
the gold, and, extending it towards Homespun demanded,—
“Will you take the bounty, and the oath? The money will then be your
own.”
“The Lord defend us from the evil one, and deliver us all from
temptation!” ejaculated the tailor: “Heroic Rover, I have a dread of
the law. Should any evil overcome you, in the shape of a King’s
cruiser, or a tempest cast you on the land, there might be danger in
being contaminated too closely with your crew. Any little services
which I may render, on compulsion, will be overlooked, I humbly hope
and I trust to your magnanimity, honest and honourable Commander, that
the same will not be forgotten in the division of your upright
earnings.”
“This is but the spirit of cabbaging, a little distorted muttered the
Rover, as he turned lightly on his heel, and tapped the gong, with an
impatience that sent the startling sound through every cranny of the
ship. Four or five heads were thrust in at the different doors of the
cabin, and the voice of one was heard, desiring to know the wishes of
their leader.
“Take him to his hammock,” was the quick, sudden order.
The good-man Homespun, who, from fright or policy, appeared to be
utterly unable to move, was quickly lifted from his seat, and conveyed
to the door which communicated with the quarter-deck.
“Pause,” he exclaimed to his unceremonious bearers, as they were about
to transport him to the place designated by their Captain; “I have one
word yet to say. Honest and loyal Rebel, though I do not accept your
service, neither do I refuse it in an unseemly and irreverent manner.
It is a sore temptation, and I feel it at my fingers’ ends. But a
covenant may be made between us, by which neither party shall be a
loser, and in which the law shall find no grounds of displeasure. I
would wish, mighty Commodore, to carry an honest name to my grave, and
I would also wish to live out the number of my days; for, after having
passed with so much credit, and unharmed, through five bloody and cruel
wars”——
“Away with him!” was the stern and startling interruption.
Homespun vanished, as though magic had been employed in transporting
him, and the Rover was again left to himself. His meditations were not
interrupted, for a long time, by human footstep or voice. That
breathing stillness, which unbending and stern discipline can alone
impart, pervaded the ship. A landsman, seated in the cabin, might have
fancied himself, although surrounded by a crew of lawless and violent
men, in the solitude of a deserted church, so suppressed, and deadened,
were even those sounds that were absolutely necessary. There were heard
at times, it is true, the high and harsh notes of some reveller who
appeared to break forth in the strains of a sea song, which, as they
issued from the depths of the vessel, and were not very musical in
themselves, broke on the silence like the first discordant strains of a
new practitioner on a bugle. But even these interruptions gradually
grew less frequent, and finally became inaudible. At length the Rover
heard a hand fumbling about the handle of the cabin door, and then his
military friend once more made his appearance.
There was that in the step, the countenance, and the whole air of the
General, which proclaimed that his recent service, if successful, had
not been achieved entirely without personal hazard. The Rover, who had
started from his seat the moment he saw who had entered, instantly
demanded his report.
“The white is so drunk, that he cannot lie down without holding on to
the mast; but the negro is either a cheat, or his head is made of
flint.”
“I hope you have not too easily abandoned the design.”
“I would as soon batter a mountain! my retreat was not made a minute
too soon.”
The Rover fastened his eyes on the General, for a moment, in order to
assure himself of the precise condition of his subaltern, ere he
replied,—
“It is well. We will now retire for the night.”
The other carefully dressed his tall person, and brought his face in
the direction of the little hatchway so often named. Then, by a sort of
desperate effort, he essayed to march to the spot, with his customary
upright mien and military step. As one or two erratic movements, and
crossings of the legs, were not commented on by his Captain, the worthy
martinet descended the stairs, as he believed, with sufficient dignity;
the moral man not being in the precise state which is the best adapted
to discover any little blunders that might be made by his physical
coadjutor. The Rover looked at his watch; and after allowing sufficient
time for the deliberate retreat of the General, he stepped lightly on
the stairs, and descended also.
The lower apartments of the vessel, though less striking in their
equipments than the upper cabin were arranged with great attention to
neatness and comfort. A few offices for the servants occupied the
extreme after-part of the ship, communicating by doors with the dining
apartment of the secondary officers; or, as it was called in technical
language, the “ward-room.” On either side of this, again, were the
state-rooms, an imposing name, by which the dormitories of those who
are entitled to the honours of the quarter-deck are ever called.
Forward of the ward-room, came the apartments of the minor officers;
and, immediately in front of them, the corps of the individual who was
called the General was lodged, forming, by their discipline, a barrier
between the more lawless seamen and their superiors.
There was little departure, in this disposition of the accommodations,
from the ordinary arrangements of vessels of war of the same
description and force as the “Rover;” but Wilder had not failed to
remark that the bulkheads which separated the cabins from the
birth-deck, or the part occupied by the crew, were far stouter than
common, and that a small howitzer was at hand, to be used, as a
physician might say, internally, should occasion require. The doors
were of extraordinary strength, and the means of barricadoing them
resembled more a preparation for battle, than the usual securities
against petty encroachments on private property. Muskets,
blunderbusses, pistols, sabres, half-pikes, &c., were fixed to the
beams and carlings, or were made to serve as ornaments against the
different bulkheads, in a profusion that plainly told they were there
as much for use as for show. In short, to the eye of a seaman, the
whole betrayed a state of things, in which the superiors felt that
their whole security, against the violence and insubordination of their
inferiors, depended on their influence and their ability to resist,
united; and that the former had not deemed it prudent to neglect any of
the precautions which might aid their comparatively less powerful
physical force.
In the principal of the lower apartments, or the ward-room, the Rover
found his newly enlisted lieutenant apparently busy in studying the
regulations of the service in which he had just embarked. Approaching
the corner in which the latter had seated himself, the former said, in
a frank, encouraging, and even confidential manner,——
“I hope you find our laws sufficiently firm, Mr Wilder.”
“Want of firmness is not their fault; if the same quality can always be
observed in administering them, it is well,” returned the other, rising
to salute his superior. “I have never found such rigid rules, even
in”——
“Even in what, sir?” demanded the Rover, perceiving that his companion
hesitated.
“I was about to say, ‘Even in his Majesty’s service,’” returned Wilder,
slightly colouring. “I know not whether it may be a fault, or a
recommendation, to have served in a King’s ship.”
“It is the latter; at least I, for one, should think it so, since I
learned my trade in the same service.”
“In what ship?” eagerly interrupted Wilder.
“In many,” was the cold reply. “But, speaking of rigid rules, you will
soon perceive, that, in a service where there are no courts on shore to
protect us, nor any sister-cruisers to look after each other’s welfare,
no small portion of power is necessarily vested in the Commander. You
find my authority a good deal extended.”
“A little unlimited,” said Wilder, with a smile that might have passed
for ironical.
“I hope you will have no occasion to say that it is arbitrarily
executed,” returned the Rover, without observing, or perhaps without
letting it appear that he observed, the expression of his companion’s
countenance. “But your hour is come, and you are now at liberty to
land.”
The young man thanked him, with a courteous inclination of the head,
and expressed his readiness to go. As they ascended the ladder into the
upper cabin, the Captain expressed his regret that the hour, and the
necessity of preserving the incognito of his ship, would not permit him
to send an officer of his rank ashore in the manner he could wish.
“But then there is the skiff, in which you came off, still alongside,
and your own two stout fellows will soon twitch you to yon point. A
propos of those two men, are they included in our arrangements?”
“They have never quitted me since my childhood, and would not wish to
do it now.”
“It is a singular tie that unites two men, so oddly constituted, to one
so different, by habits and education, from themselves,” returned the
Rover, glancing his eye keenly at the other, and withdrawing it the
instant he perceived his interest in the answer was observed.
“It is,” Wilder calmly replied; “but, as we are all seamen, the
difference is not so great as one would at first imagine. I will now
join them, and take an opportunity to let them, know that they are to
serve in future under your orders.”
The Rover suffered him to leave the cabin, following to the
quarter-deck, with a careless step, as if he had come abroad to breathe
the open air of the night.
The weather had not changed, but it still continued dark, though mild.
The same stillness as before reigned on the decks of the ship; and
nowhere, with a solitary exception, was a human form to be seen, amid
the collection of dark objects that rose on the sight, all of which
Wilder well understood to be necessary fixtures in the vessel. The
exception was the same individual who had first received our
adventurer, and who still paced the quarter-deck, wrapped, as before,
in a watch-coat. To this personage the youth now addressed himself,
announcing his intention temporarily to quit the vessel. His
communication was received with a respect that satisfied him his new
rank was already known, although, as it would seem, it was to be made
to succumb to the superior authority of the Rover.
“You know, sir, that no one, of whatever station, can leave the ship at
this hour, without an order from the Captain,” was the calm, but steady
reply.
“So I presume; but I have the order, and transmit it to you. I shall
land in my own boat.”
The other, seeing a figure within hearing, which he well knew to be
that of his Commander, waited an instant, to ascertain if what he heard
was true. Finding that no objection was made, nor any sign given, to
the contrary, he merely indicated the place where the other would find
his boat.
“The men have left it!” exclaimed Wilder, stepping back in surprise, as
he was about to descend the vessel’s side.
“Have the rascals run?”
“Sir, they have not run; neither are they rascals They are in this
ship, and must be found.”
The other waited, to witness the effect of these authoritative words,
too, on the individual, who still lingered in the shadow of a mast. As
no answer was, however, given from that quarter, he saw the necessity
of obedience. Intimating his intention to seek the men, he passed into
the forward parts of the vessel, leaving Wilder, as he thought, in the
sole possession of the quarter-deck. The latter was, however, soon
undeceived. The Rover, advancing carelessly to his side, made an
allusion to the condition of his vessel, in order to divert the
thoughts of his new lieutenant, who, by his hurried manner of pacing
the deck, he saw, was beginning to indulge in uneasy meditations.
“A charming sea-boat, Mr Wilder,” he continued, “and one that never
throws a drop of spray abaft her mainmast. She is just the craft a
seaman loves; easy on her rigging, and lively in a sea. I call her the
‘Dolphin,’ from the manner in which she cuts the water; and, perhaps,
because she has as many colours as that fish, you will say—Jack must
have a name for his ship, you know, and I dislike your cut-throat
appellations, your ‘Spit-fires’ and ‘Bloody-murders.’”
“You were fortunate in finding such a vessel. Was she built to your
orders?”
“Few ships, under six hundred tons, sail from these colonies, that are
not built to serve my purposes,” returned the Rover, with a smile; as
if he would cheer his companion, by displaying the mine of wealth that
was opening to him, through the new connexion he had made. “This vessel
was originally built for his Most Faithful Majesty; and, I believe, was
either intended as a present or a scourge to the Algerines; but—but she
has changed owners, as you see, and her fortune is a little altered;
though how, or why, is a trifle with which we will not, just now divert
ourselves. I have had her in port; she has undergone some improvements,
and is now altogether suited to a running trade.”
“You then venture, sometimes, inside the forts?”
“When you have leisure, my private journal may afford some interest,”
the other evasively replied. “I hope, Mr Wilder, you find this vessel
in such a state that a seaman need not blush for her?”
“Her beauty and neatness first caught my eye, and induced me to make
closer inquiries into her character.”
“You were quick in seeing that she was kept at a single anchor!”
returned the other, laughing. “But I never risk any thing without a
reason; not even the loss of my ground tackle. It would be no great
achievement, for so warm a battery as this I carry, to silence yonder
apology for a fort; but, in doing it, we might receive an unfortunate
hit, and therefore do I keep ready for an instant departure.”
“It must be a little awkward, to fight in a war where one cannot lower
his flag in any emergency!” said Wilder; more like one who mused, than
one who intended to express the opinion aloud.
“The bottom is always beneath us,” was the laconic answer. “But to you
I may say, that I am, on principle, tender on my spars. They are
examined daily, like the heels of a racer; for it often happens that
our valour must be well-tempered by discretion.”
“And how, and where, do you refit, when damaged in a gale, or in a
fight?”
“Hum! We contrive to refit, sir, and to take the sea in tolerable
condition.”
He stopped; and Wilder, perceiving that he was not yet deemed entitled
to entire confidence, continued silent. In this pause, the officer
returned, followed by the black alone. A few words served to explain
the condition of Fid. It was very apparent that the young man was not
only disappointed, but that he was deeply mortified. The frank and
ingenuous air, however, with which he turned to the Rover, to apologize
for the dereliction of his follower, satisfied the latter that he was
far from suspecting any improper agency in bringing about his awkward
condition.
“You know the character of seamen too well, sir,” he said, “to impute
this oversight to my poor fellow as a heinous fault. A better sailor
never lay on a yard, or stretched a ratlin, than Dick Fid; but I must
allow he has the quality of good fellowship to excess.”
“You are fortunate in having one man left you to pull the boat ashore,”
carelessly returned the other.
“I am more than equal to that little exertion myself nor do I like to
separate the men. With your permission, the black shall be birthed,
too, in the ship to-night.”
“As you please. Empty hammocks are not scarce among us, since the last
brush.”
Wilder then directed the negro to return to his messmate, and to watch
over him so long as he should be unable to look after himself. The
black, who was far from being as clear-headed as common, willingly
complied. The young man then took leave of his companions, and
descended into the skiff. As he pulled, with vigorous arms, away from
the dark ship, his eyes were cast upward, with a seaman’s pleasure, on
the-order and neatness of her gear, and thence they fell on the
frowning mass of the hull. A light-built, compact form was seen
standing on the heel of the bowsprit, apparently watching his
movements; and, notwithstanding the gloom of the clouded star-light, he
was enabled to detect, in the individual who took so much apparent
interest in his proceedings, the person of the Rover.