Thief. “’Tis in the malice of mankind, that he thus advises us not to
have us thrive in our mystery.”
_Timon of Athens._
Throughout the whole of that day, no change occurred in the weather.
The sleeping ocean lay like a waving and glittering mirror, smooth and
polished on its surface, though, as usual, the long rising and falling
of a heavy ground-swell announced the commotion that was in action
within some distant horizon. From the time that he left the deck, until
the sun laved its burnished orb in the sea, the individual, who so well
knew how to keep alive his authority among the untamed tempers that he
governed, was seen no more. Satisfied with his victory, he no longer
seemed to apprehend that it was possible any should be bold enough to
dare to plot the overthrow of his power. This apparent confidence in
himself did not fail to impress his people favourably. As no neglect of
duty was overlooked, nor any offence left to go unpunished, an eye,
that was not seen, was believed by the crew to be ever on them, and an
invisible hand was thought to be at all times uplifted, ready to strike
or to reward. It was by a similar system of energy in moments of need,
and of forbearance when authority was irksome, that this extraordinary
man had so long succeeded, as well in keeping down domestic treason, as
in eluding the utmost address and industry of his open enemies.
When the watch was set for the night, however, and the ship lay in the
customary silence of the hour, the form of the Rover was again seen
walking swiftly to and fro across the poop, of which he was now the
solitary occupant. The vessel had drifted in the stream of the Gulf so
far to the northward, that the little mound of blue had long sunk below
the edge of the ocean; and she was again surrounded, so far as human
eye might see, by an interminable world of water. As not a breath of
air was stirring, the sails had been handed, the tall and naked spars
rearing themselves, in the gloom of the evening, like those of a ship
which rested at her anchors. In short, it was one of those hours of
entire repose that the elements occasionally grant to such adventurers
as trust their fortunes to the capricious government of the treacherous
and unstable winds.
Even the men, whose duty it was to be on the alert, were emboldened, by
the general tranquillity, to become careless on their watch, and to
cast their persons between the guns, or on different portions of the
vessel, seeking that rest which the forms of discipline and good order
prohibited them from enjoying in their hammocks. Here and there,
indeed, the head of a drowsy officer was seen nodding with the lazy
heaving of the ship, as he leaned against the bulwarks, or rested his
person on the carriage of some gun that was placed beyond the sacred
limits of the quarter-deck One form alone stood erect, vigilant, and
evidently maintaining a watchful eye over the whole This was Wilder,
whose turn to keep the deck had again arrived, in the regular division
of the service of the officers.
For two hours, not the slightest communication occurred between the
Rover and his lieutenant. Both rather avoided than sought the
intercourse; for each had his own secret sources of serious meditation
At the end of that period of silence, the former stopped short in his
walk, and looked long and steadily at the still motionless figure on
the deck beneath him.
“Mr Wilder,” he at length said, “the air is fresher on this poop, and
more free from the impurities of the vessel: Will you ascend?”
The other complied; and, for several minutes they walked silently, and
with even steps, together, as seamen are wont to move in the hours of
deep night.
“We had a troublesome morning, Wilder,” the Rover resumed,
unconsciously betraying the subject of his thoughts, and speaking
always in a voice so guarded, that no ears, but his to whom he
addressed himself, might embrace the sound: “Were you ever so near that
pretty precipice, a mutiny, before?”
“The man who is hit is nigher to danger than he who feels the wind of
the ball.”
“Ah! you have then been bearded in your ship! Give yourself no
uneasiness on account of the personal animosity which a few of the
fellows saw fit to manifest against yourself. I am acquainted with
their most secret thoughts, as you shall shortly know.”
“I confess, that, in your place, I should sleep on a thorny pillow,
with such evidences of the temper of my men before my mind. A few hours
of disorder might deliver the vessel, on any day, into the hands of the
Government, and your own life to”——
“The executioner! And why not yours?” demanded the Rover, so quickly,
as to give, in a slight degree, an air of distrust to his manner. “But
the eye that has often seen battles seldom winks. Mine has too often,
and too steadily, looked danger in the face to be alarmed at the sight
of a King’s pennant. Besides it is not usual for us to be much on this
ticklish coast; the islands, and the Spanish Main, are less dangerous
cruising grounds.”
“And yet have yon ventured here at a time when success against the
enemy has given the Admiral leisure to employ a powerful force in your
pursuit.”
“I had a reason for it. It is not always easy to separate the Commander
from the man. If I have temporarily forgotten the obligations of the
former in the wishes of the latter, so far, at least, harm has not come
of it. I may have tired of chasing your indolent Don, and of driving
guarda costas into port. This life of ours is full of excitement which
I love to me, there is interest even in a mutiny!”
“I like not treason. In this particular, I confess myself like the boor
who loses his resolution in the dark. While the enemy is in view, I
hope you will find me true as other men; but sleeping over a mine is
not an amusement to my taste.”
“So much for want of practice! Hazard is hazard come in what shape it
may; and the human mind can as readily be taught to be indifferent to
secret machinations as to open risk. Hush! Struck the bell six, or
seven?”
“Seven. You see the men slumber, as before. Instinct would wake them,
were their hour at hand.”
“’Tis well. I feared the time had passed. Yes, Wilder, I love suspense;
it keeps the faculties from dying, and throws a man upon the better
principles of his nature. Perhaps I owe it to a wayward spirit, but, to
me, there is enjoyment in an adverse wind.’”
“And, in a calm?”
“Calms may have their charms for your quiet spirits; but in them there
is nothing to be overcome. One cannot stir the elements, though one may
counteract their workings.”
“You have not entered on this trade of yours “—
“Yours!”
“I might, now, have said ‘of ours,’ since I too have become a Rover.”
“You are still in your noviciate,” resumed the other, whose quick mind
had already passed the point at which the conversation had arrived;
“and high enjoyment had I in being the one who shrived you in your
wishes. You manifested a skill in playing round your subject, without
touching it, which gives me hopes of an apt scholar.”
“But no penitent, I trust.”
“That as it may be; we are all liable to our moments of weakness, when
we look on life as book men paint it, and think of being probationers
where we are put to enjoy. Yes, I angled for you as the fisherman plays
with the trout. Nor did I overlook the danger of deception. You were
faithful on the whole; though I protest against your ever again acting
so much against my interests as to intrigue to keep the game from
coming to my net.”
“When, and how, have I done this? You have yourself admitted”——
“That the ‘Royal Caroline’ was prettily handled, and wrecked by the
will of Heaven. I speak of nobler quarries, now, than such as any hawk
may fly at. Are you a woman-hater, that you would fain have frightened
the noble-minded woman, and the sweet girl, who are beneath our feet at
this minute, from enjoying the high privilege of your company?”
“Was it treacherous, to wish to save a woman from a fate like that, for
instance, which hung over them both this very day? For, while your
authority exists in this ship, I do not think there can be danger, even
to her who is so lovely.”
“By heavens, Wilder, you do me no more than justice. Before harm should
come to that fair innocent with this hand would I put the match into
the magazine, and send her, all spotless as she is, to the place from
which she seems to have fallen.”
Our adventurer listened greedily to these words, though he little liked
the strong language of admiration with which the Rover was pleased to
clothe his generous sentiment.
“How knew you of my wish to serve them?” he demanded, after a pause,
which neither seemed in any hurry to break.
“Could I mistake your language? I thought it enough when spoken.”
“Spoken!” exclaimed Wilder, in surprise. “Perhaps part of my confession
was then made when I least believed it.”
The Rover did not answer; but his companion saw, by the meaning smile
which played about his lip, that he had been the dupe of an audacious
and completely successful masquerade. Startled, perhaps at discovering
how intricate were the toils into which he had rushed, and possibly
vexed at being so thoroughly over-reached, he made several turns across
the deck before he again spoke.
“I confess myself deceived,” he at length said, “and henceforth I shall
submit to you as a master from whom one may learn, but who can never be
surpassed. The landlord of the ‘Foul Anchor,’ at least, acted in his
proper person, whoever might have been the aged seaman?”
“Honest Joe Joram! An useful man to a distressed mariner, you must
allow. How liked you the Newport pilot?”
“Was he an agent too?”
“For the job merely. I trust such knaves no further than their own eyes
can see. But, hist! Heard you nothing?”
“I thought a rope had fallen in the water.”
“Ay, it is so. Now you shall find how thoroughly I overlook these
turbulent gentlemen.”
The Rover then cut short the dialogue, which was growing deeply
interesting to his companion, and moved, with a light step, to the
stern, over which he hung, for a few moments, by himself, like a man
who found a pleasure in gazing at the dark surface of the sea. But a
slight noise, like that produced by agitated ropes, caught the ear of
his companion, who instantly placed himself at the side of his
Commander, where he did not wait long without gaining another proof of
the manner in which he, as well as all the rest of the crew, were
circumvented by the devices of their leader.
A man was guardedly, and, from his situation, with some difficulty,
moving round the quarter of the ship by the aid of the ropes and
mouldings, which afforded him sufficient means to effect his object.
He, however, soon reached a stern ladder, where he stood suspended, and
evidently endeavouring to discern which of the two forms, that were
overlooking his proceedings, was that of the individual he sought.
“Are you there, Davis?” said the Rover, in a voice but little above a
whisper, first laying his hand lightly on Wilder, as though he would
tell him to attend. “I fear you have been seen or heard.”
“No fear of that, your Honour. I got out at the port by the cabin
bulkhead; and the after-guard are all as sound asleep as if they had
the watch below.”
“It is well. What news bring you from the people?”
“Lord! your Honour may tell them to go to church, and the stoutest
sea-dog of them all wouldn’t dare to say he had forgotten his prayers.”
“You think them in a better temper than they were?”
“I know it, sir: Not but what the will to work mischief is to be found
in two or three of the men, but they dare not trust each other. Your
Honour has such winning ways with you, that one never knows when he is
on safe grounds in setting up to be master.”
“Ay, this is ever the way with your disorganizers,” muttered the Rover,
just loud enough to be heard by Wilder. “A little more honesty, than
they possess, is just wanted, in order that each may enjoy the faith of
his neighbour. And how did the fellows receive the lenity? Did I well?
or must the morning bring its punishment?”
“It is better as it stands, sir. The people know whose memory is good,
and they talk already of the danger of adding another reckoning to this
they feel certain you have not forgotten. There is the captain of the
forecastle, who is a little bitter, as usual, and the more so just now,
on account of the knock-down he got from the list of the black.”
“Ay, he is ever troublesome; a settling day must come at last with the
rogue.”
“It will be a small matter to expend him in boat-service sir; and the
ship’s company will be all the better for his absence.”
“Well, well; no more of him,” interrupted the Rover, a little
impatiently, as if he liked not that his companion should look too
deeply into the policy of his government, so early in his initiation.
“I will see to him. If I mistake not, fellow, you over-acted your own
part to-day, and were a little too forward in leading on the trouble.”
“I hope your Honour will remember that the crew had been piped to
mischief; besides, there could be no great harm in washing the powder
off a few marines.”
“Ay, but you pressed the point after your officer had seen fit to
interfere. Be wary in future, lest you make the acting too true to
nature, and you get applauded in a manner quite as well performed.”
The fellow promised caution and amendment; and then he was dismissed,
with his reward in gold, and with an injunction to be secret in his
return. So soon as the interview was ended, the Rover and Wilder
resumed their walk; the former having made sure that no evesdropper had
been at hand to steal into his mysterious connexion with the spy. The
silence was again long, thoughtful, and deep.
“Good ears” (recommenced the Rover) “are nearly as important, in a ship
like this, as a stout heart. The rogues forward must not be permitted
to eat of the fruit of knowledge, lest we, who are in the cabins, die.”
“This is a perilous service in which we are embarked,” observed his
companion, by a sort of involuntary exposure of his secret thoughts.
The Rover remained silent, making many turns across the deck, before he
again opened his lips. When he spoke, it was in a voice so bland and
gentle, that his words sounded more like the admonitory tones of a
considerate friend, than like the language of a man who had long been
associated with a set of beings so rude and unprincipled as those with
whom he was now seen.
“You are still on the threshold of your life, Mr Wilder,” he said, “and
it is all before you to choose the path on which you will go. As yet,
you have been present at no violation of what the world calls its laws;
nor is it too late to say you never will be. I may have been selfish in
my wish to gain you; but try me; and you will find that self, though
often active, cannot, nor does not, long hold its dominion over my
mind. Say but the word, and you are free; it is easy to destroy the
little evidence which exists of your having made one of my crew. The
land is not far beyond that streak of fading light; before to-morrow’s
sun shall set, your foot may tread it.”
“Then, why not both? If this irregular life be evil for me, it is the
same for you. Could I hope”—
“What would you say?” calmly demanded the Rover, after waiting
sufficiently long to be sure his companion hesitated to continue.
“Speak freely; your words are for the ears of a friend.”
“Then, as a friend will I unbosom myself. You say, the land is here in
the west. It would be easy for you and I, men nurtured on the sea, to
lower this boat into the water; and, profiting by the darkness, long
ere our absence could be known, we should be lost to the eye of any who
might seek us.”
“Whither would you steer?”
“To the shores of America, where shelter and peace might be found in a
thousand secret places.”
“Would you have a man, who has so long lived a prince among his
followers, become a beggar in a land of strangers?”
“But you have gold. Are we not masters here? Who is there that might
dare even to watch our movements, until we were pleased ourselves to
throw off the authority with which we are clothed? Ere the middle watch
was set, all might be done.”
“Alone! Would you go alone?”
“No—not entirely—that is—it would scarcely become us, as men, to desert
the females to the brutal power of those we should leave behind.”
“And would it become us, as men, to desert those who put faith in our
fidelity? Mr Wilder, your proposal would make me a villain! Lawless, in
the opinion of the world, have I long been; but a traitor to my faith
and plighted word, never! The hour may come when the beings whose world
is in this ship shall part; but the separation must be open, voluntary,
and manly. You never knew what drew me into the haunts of man, when we
first met in the town of Boston?”
“Never,” returned Wilder, in a tone of deep disappointment
“Listen, and you shall hear. A sturdy follower had fallen into the
hands of the minions of the law. It was necessary to save him. He was a
man I little loved, but he was one who had ever been honest, after his
opinions. I could not desert the victim; nor could any but I effect his
escape. Gold and artifice succeeded; and the fellow is now here, to
sing the praises of his Commander to the crew. Could I forfeit a good
name, obtained at so much hazard?”
“You would forfeit the good opinions of knaves, to gain a reputation
among those whose commendations are an honour.”
“I know not. You little understand the nature of man, if you are now to
learn that he has pride in maintaining a reputation for even vice, when
he has once purchased notoriety by its exhibition. Besides, I am not
fitted for the world, as it is found among your dependant colonists.”
“You claim your birth, perhaps, in the mother country?”
“I am no better than a poor provincial, sir; an humble satellite of the
mighty sun. You have seen my flags, Mr Wilder:—but there was one
wanting among them all; ay, and one which, had it existed, it would
have been my pride, my glory, to have upheld with my heart’s best
blood!”
“I know not what you mean.”
“I need not tell a seaman, like you, how many noble rivers pour their
waters into the sea along this coast of which we have been speaking—how
many wide and commodious havens abound there—or how many sails whiten
the ocean, that are manned by men who first drew breath on that
spacious and peaceful soil.”
“Surely I know the advantages of the country you mean.”
“I fear not!” quickly returned the Rover. “Were they known, as they
should be, by you and others like you, the flag I mentioned would soon
be found in every sea; nor would the natives of our country have to
succumb to the hirelings of a foreign prince.
“I will not affect to misunderstand your meaning for I have known
others as visionary as yourself in fancying that such an event may
arrive.”
“May!—As certain as that star will settle in the ocean, or that day is
to succeed to night, it _must._ Had that flag been abroad, Mr Wilder,
no man would have ever heard the name of the Red Rover.”
“The King has a service of his own, and it is open to all his subjects
alike.”
“I could be a subject of a King; but to be the subject of a subject,
Wilder, exceeds the bounds of my poor patience. I was educated, I might
almost have said born, in one of his vessels; and how often have I been
made to feel, in bitterness, that an ocean separated my birth-place
from the footstool of his throne! Would you think it, sir? one of his
Commanders dared to couple the name of my country with an epithet I
will not wound your ear by repeating!”
“I hope you taught the scoundrel manners.”
The Rover faced his companion, and there was a ghastly smile on his
speaking features, as he answered—
“He never repeated the offence! ’Twas his blood or mine; and dearly did
he pay the forfeit of his brutality!”
“You fought like men, and fortune favoured the injured party?”
“We fought, sir.—But I had dared to raise my hand against a native of
the holy isle!—It is enough, Mr Wilder; the King rendered a faithful
subject desperate, and he has had reason to repent it. Enough for the
present; another time I may say more.—Good night.”
Wilder saw the figure of his companion descend the ladder to the
quarter-deck; and then was he left to pursue the current of his
thoughts, alone, during the remainder of a watch which to his
impatience seemed without an end.