“Their preparation is to-day by sea.”
_Anthony and Cleopatra._
“Sail, ho!” in the little frequented sea in which the “Rover” lay, was
a cry that quickened every dull pulsation in the bosoms of her crew.
Many weeks had now, according to their method of calculation, been
entirely lost in the visionary and profitless plans of their chief.
They were not of a temper to reason on the fatality which had forced
the Bristol trader from their toils; it was enough, for their rough
natures, that the rich spoil had escaped them. Without examining for
the causes of this loss, as has been already seen, they had been but
too well disposed to visit their disappointment on the head of the
innocent officer who was charged with the care of a vessel that they
already considered a prize. Here, then, was at length an opportunity to
repair their loss. The stranger was about to encounter them in a part
of the ocean where succour was nearly hopeless, and where time might be
afforded to profit, to the utmost, by any success that the freebooters
should obtain. Every man in the ship seemed sensible of these
advantages; and, as the words sounded from mast to yard, and from yard
to deck, they were taken up in cheerful echos from fifty mouths, which
repeated the cry, until it was heard issuing from the inmost recesses
of the vessel.
The Rover himself manifested more than usual satisfaction at this
prospect of a capture. He was quite aware of the necessity of some
brilliant or of some profitable exploit, to curb the rising tempers of
his men; and long experience had taught him that he could ever draw the
cords of discipline the tightest in moments that appeared the most to
require the exercise of his own high courage and consummate skill. He
walked forward, therefore, among his people, with a countenance that
was no longer buried in reserve, speaking to several, whom he addressed
by name, and of whom he did not even disdain to ask opinions concerning
the character of the distant sail. When a sort of implied assurance
that their recent offences were overlooked had thus been given, he
summoned Wilder, the General, and one or two others of the superior
officers, to the poop, where they all disposed themselves, to make more
particular and more certain observations, by the aid of a half-dozen
excellent glasses.
Many minutes were now passed in silent and intense scrutiny. The day
was cloudless, the wind fresh, without being heavy, the sea long, even,
and far from high, and, in short, all things combined, as far as is
ever seen on the restless ocean, not only to aid their examination, but
to favour those subsequent evolutions which each instant rendered more
probable would become necessary.
“It is a ship!” exclaimed the Rover, lowering his glass, the first to
proclaim the result of his long and close inspection.
“It is a ship!” echoed the General, across whose disciplined features a
ray of something like animated satisfaction was making an effort to
display itself.
“A full-rigged ship!” continued a third, relieving his eye in turn, and
answering to the grim smile of the soldier.
“There must be something to hold up all those lofty spars,” resumed
their Commander. “A hull of price is beneath.—But you say nothing, Mr
Wilder! You make her out”——
“A ship of size,” returned our adventurer, who, though hitherto silent,
had been far from the least interested in his investigations. “Does my
glass deceive me—or”——
“Or what, sir?”
“I see her to the heads of her courses.”
“You see her as I do. It is a tall ship on an easy bow-line, with every
thing set that will draw. And she is standing hitherward. Her lower
sails have lifted within five minutes.”
“I thought as much. But”——
“But what, sir? There can be little doubt but she is heading
north-and-east. Since she is so kind as to spare us the pains of a
chase, we will not hurry our movements. Let her come on. How like you
the manner of the stranger’s advance, General?”
“Unmilitary, but enticing! There is a look of the mines about her very
royals.”
“And you, gentlemen, do you also see the fashion of a galleon in her
upper sails?”
“’Tis not unreasonable to believe it,” answered one of the inferiors.
“The Dons are said to run this passage often, in order to escape
speaking us gentlemen, who sail with roving commissions.”
“Ah! your Don is a prince of the earth! There is charity in lightening
his golden burden, or the man would sink under it, as did the Roman
matron under the pressure of the Sabine shields. I think you see no
such gilded beauty in the stranger, Mr Wilder.”
“It is a heavy ship!”
“The more likely to bear a noble freight. You are new, sir, to this
merry trade of ours, or you would know that size is a quality we always
esteem in our visitors. If they carry pennants, we leave them to
meditate on the many ‘slips which exist between the cup and the lip;’
and, if stored with metal no more dangerous than that of Potosi, they
generally sail the faster after passing a few hours in our company.”
“Is not the stranger making signals?” demanded Wilder, thoughtfully.
“Is he so quick to see us! A good look-out must be had, when a vessel,
that is merely steadied by her stay-sails, can be seen so far.
Vigilance is a never-failing sign of value!”
A pause succeeded, during which all the glasses, in imitation of that
of Wilder, were again raised in the direction of the stranger.
Different opinions were given; some affirming, and some doubting, the
fact of the signals. The Rover himself was silent, though his
observation was keen, and long continued.
“We have wearied oar eyes till sight is getting dim,” he said. “I have
found the use of trying fresh organs when my own have refused to serve
me. Come hither, lad,” he continued, addressing a man who was executing
some delicate job in seamanship on the poop, at no great distance from
the spot where the groupe of officers had placed themselves; “come
hither: Tell me what you make of the sail in the south-western board.”
The man proved to be Scipio, who had been chosen for his expertness, to
perform the task in question. Placing his cap on the deck, in a
reverence even deeper than that which the seaman usually manifests
toward his superior, he lifted the glass in one hand, while with the
other he covered the eye that had at the moment no occasion for the use
of its vision. But no sooner did the wandering instrument fall on the
distant object, than he dropped it again, and fastened his look, in a
sort of stupid admiration, on Wilder.
“Did you see the sail?” demanded the Rover.
“Masser can see him wid he naked eye.”
“Ay, but what make you of him by the aid of the glass?”
“He’m ship, sir.”
“True. On what course?”
“He got he starboard tacks aboard, sir.”
“Still true. But has he signals abroad?”
“He’m got t’ree new cloths in he maintop-gallant royal, sir.”
“His vessel is all the better for the repairs. Did you see his flags?”
“He’m show no flag, masser.”
“I thought as much myself. Go forward, lad—stay—one often gets a true
idea by seeking it where it is not thought to exist. Of what size do
you take the stranger to be?”
“He’m just seven hundred and fifty tons, masser.”
“How’s this! The tongue of your negro, Mr. Wilder, is as exact as a
carpenter’s rule. The fellow speaks of the size of a vessel, that is
hull down, with an air as authoritative as a runner of the King’s
customs could pronounce on the same, after she had been submitted to
the office admeasurement.”
“You will have consideration for the ignorance of the black; men of his
unfortunate state are seldom skilful in answering interrogatories.”
“Ignorance!” repeated the Rover, glancing his eye uneasily, and with a
rapidity peculiar to himself, from one to the other, and from both to
the rising object in the horizon: “Skilful! I know not: The man has no
air of doubt.—You think her tonnage to be precisely that which you have
said?”
The large dark eyes of Scipio roiled, in turn, from his new Commander
to his ancient master, while, for a moment, his faculties appeared to
be lost in inextricable confusion. But the uncertainty continued only
for a moment. He no sooner read the frown that was gathering deeply
over the brow of the latter, than the air of confidence with which he
had pronounced his former opinion vanished in a look of obstinacy so
settled, that one might well have despaired of ever driving, or
enticing, him again to seem to think.
“I ask you, if the stranger may not be a dozen tons larger or smaller
than what you have named?” continued the Rover, when he found his
former question was not likely to be soon answered.
“He’m just as masser wish ’em,” returned Scipio.
“I wish him a thousand; since he will then prove the richer prize.”
“I s’pose he’m quite a t’ousand, sir.”
“Or a snug ship of three hundred, if lined with gold, might do.”
“He look berry like a t’ree hundred.”
“To me it seems a brig.”
“I t’ink him brig too, masser.”
“Or possibly, after all, the stranger may prove a schooner, with many
lofty and light sails.”
“A schooner often carry a royal,” returned the black, resolute to
acquiesce in all the other said.
“Who knows it is a sail at all! Forward there! It may be well to have
more opinions than one on so weighty a matter. Forward there! send the
foretop-man that is called Fid upon the poop. Your companions are so
intelligent and so faithful, Mr. Wilder, that you are not to be
surprised if I shew an undue desire for their information.”
Wilder compressed his lips, and the rest of the groupe manifested a
good deal of amazement; but the latter had been too long accustomed to
the caprice of their Commander, and the former was too wise, to speak
at a moment when his humour seemed at the highest. The topman, however,
was not long in making his appearance, and then the chief saw fit again
to break the silence.
“And you think it questionable whether it be a sail at all?” he
continued.
“He’m sartain nothing but a fly-away,” returned the obstinate black.
“You hear what your friend the negro says, master Fid; he thinks that
yonder object, which is lifting so fast to leeward, is not a sail.”
As the topman saw no sufficient reason for concealing his astonishment
at this wild opinion, it was manifested with all the embellishments
with which the individual in question usually set forth any of his more
visible emotions. After casting a short glance in the direction of the
sail, in order to assure himself there had been no deception, he turned
his eyes in great disgust on Scipio, as if he would vindicate the
credit of the association at the expense of some little contempt for
the ignorance of his companion.
“What the devil do you take it for, Guinea? a church?”
“I t’ink he’m church,” responded the acquiescent black.
“Lord help the dark-skinned fool! Your Honour knows that conscience is
d——nab-y overlooked in Africa, and will not judge the nigger hardly for
any little blunder he may make in the account of his religion. But the
fellow is a thorough seaman, and should know a top-gallant-sail from a
weathercock. Now, look you, S’ip, for the credit of your friends, if
you’ve no great pride on your own behalf, just tell his”——
“It is of no account,” interrupted the Rover. “Take you this glass, and
pass an opinion on the sail in sight yourself.”
Fid scraped his foot, and made a low bow, in acknowledgment of the
compliment; and then, depositing his little tarpaulin hat on the deck
of the poop, he very composedly, and, as he flattered himself, very
understandingly, disposed of his person to take the desired view. The
gaze of the topman was far longer than had been that of his black
companion; and it is to be presumed, in consequence, much more
accurate. Instead, however, of venturing any sudden opinion, when his
eye was wearied, he lowered the glass, and with it his head, standing
long in the attitude of one whose thoughts had received some subject of
deep cogitation. During the process of thinking, the weed was
diligently rolled over his tongue, and one hand was stuck a-kimbo into
his side, as if he would brace all his faculties to support some
extraordinary mental effort.
“I wait your opinion,” resumed his attentive Commander, when he thought
sufficient time had been allowed to mature the opinion even of Richard
Fid.
“Will your Honour just tell me what day of the month this here may be,
and mayhap, at the same time, the day of the week too, if it shouldn’t
be giving too much trouble?”
His two questions were directly answered.
“We had the wind at east-with-southing, the first day out, and then it
chopped in the night, and blew great guns at north-west, where it held
for the matter of a week. After which there was an Irishman’s
hurricane, right up and down, for a day; then we got into these here
trades, which have stood as steady as a ship’s chaplain over a punch
bowl, ever since.”——
Here the topman closed his soliloquy, in order to agitate the tobacco
again, it being impossible to conduct the process of chewing and
talking at one and the same time.
“What of the stranger?” demanded the Rover, a little impatiently.
“It’s no church, that’s certain, your Honour,” said Fid, very
decidedly.
“Has he signals flying?”
“He may be speaking with his flags, but it needs a better scholar than
Richard Fid to know what he would say. To my eye, there are three new
cloths in his main-top-gallant-royal, but no bunting abroad.”
“The man is happy in having so good a sail. Mr Wilder, do _you_ too see
the darker cloths in question?”
“There is certainly something which might be taken for canvas newer
than the rest. I believe I first mistook the same, as the sun fell
brightest on the sail, for the signals I named.”
“Then we are not seen, and may lie quiet for a while, though we enjoy
the advantage of measuring the stranger, foot by foot—even to the new
cloths in his royal!”
The Rover spoke in a tone that was strangely divided between sarcasm
and thought. He then made an impatient gesture to the seamen to quit
the poop. When they were alone, he turned to his silent and respectful
officers, continuing, in a manner that was grave, while it was
conciliatory,——
“Gentlemen,” he said, “our idle time is past, and fortune has at length
brought activity into our track. Whether the ship in sight be of just
seven hundred and fifty tons, is more than I can pretend to pronounce,
but something there is which any seaman may know. But the squareness of
her upper-yards, the symmetry with which they are trimmed, and the
press of canvass she bears on the wind, I pronounce her to be a vessel
of war. Do any differ from my opinion? Mr. Wilder, speak.”
“I feel the truth of all your reasons, and think with you.”
A shade of gloomy distrust, which had gathered over the brow of the
Rover during the foregoing scene, lighted a little as he listened to
the direct and frank avowal of his lieutenant.
“You believe she bears a pennant? I like this manliness of reply. Then
comes another question. Shall we fight her?”
To this interrogatory it was not so easy to give a decisive answer.
Each officer consulted the opinions of his comrades, in their eyes,
until their leader saw fit to make his application still more personal.
“Now, General, this is a question peculiarly fitted for your wisdom,”
he resumed: “Shall we give battle to a pennant? or shall we spread our
wings, and fly?”
“My bullies are not drilled to the retreat. Give them any other work to
do, and I will answer for their steadiness.”
“But shall we venture, without a reason?”
“The Spaniard often sends his bullion home under cover of a cruiser’s
guns,” observed one of the inferiors, who rarely found pleasure in any
risk that did not infer its correspondent benefit. “We may feel the
stranger; if he carries more than his guns, he will betray it by his
reluctance to speak, but if poor, we shall find him fierce as a
half-fed tiger.”
“There is sense in your counsel, Brace, and it shall be regarded. Go
then, gentlemen, to your several duties. We’ll pass the half hour that
may be needed, before his hull shall rise, in looking to our gear, and
overhauling the guns. As it is not decided to fight, let what is done
be done without display. My people must see no receding from a
resolution taken.”
The groupe then separated, each man preparing to undertake the task
that more especially belonged to the situation that he filled in the
ship. Wilder was about to retire with the rest, but a significant sign
drew him to the side of his chief, who continued on the poop alone with
his new confederate.
“The monotony of our lives is now likely to be interrupted, Mr Wilder,”
commenced the former, first glancing his eye around, to make sure they
were alone. “I have seen enough of your spirit and steadiness, to be
sure, that, should accident disable me to conduct the fortunes of these
people, my authority will fall into firm and able hands.”
“Should such a calamity befall us, I hope it may be found that your
expectations shall not be deceived.”
“I have confidence, sir; and, where a brave man reposes his confidence,
he has a right to hope it will not be abused. I speak in reason.”
“I acknowledge the justice of your words.”
“I would, Wilder, that we had known each other earlier. But what
matters vain regrets! These fellows of yours are keen of sight to note
those cloths so soon!”
“’Tis just the observation of people of their class. The nicer
distinctions which marked the cruiser came first from yourself!”
“And then the ‘seven hundred and fifty tons of the black!—It was giving
an opinion with great decision.”
“It is the quality of ignorance to be positive.”
“You say truly. Cast an eye at the stranger, and tell me how he comes
on.”
Wilder obeyed, seemingly glad to be relieved from a discourse that he
might have found embarrassing. Many moments were passed before he
dropped the glass, during which time not a syllable fell from the lips
of his companion. When he turned, however, to deliver the result of his
observations, he met an eye, that seemed to pierce his soul, fastened
on his countenance. Colouring highly, as if he resented the suspicion
betrayed by the act, Wilder closed his half-open lips, and continued
silent.
“And the ship?” deeply demanded the Rover.
“The ship has already raised her courses; in a few more minutes we
shall see the hull.”
“It is a swift vessel! She is standing directly for us.”
“I think not. Her head is lying more at east.”
“It may be well to make certain of that fact. You are right,” he
continued, after taking a look himself at the approaching cloud of
canvas; “you are very right. As yet we are not seen. Forward there!
haul down that head stay-sail; we will steady the ship by her yards.
Now let him look with all his eyes; they must be good to see these
naked spars at such a distance.”
Our adventurer made no reply, assenting to the truth of what the other
had said by a simple inclination of his head. They then resumed the
walk to and fro in their narrow limits, neither manifesting, however,
any anxiety to renew the discourse.
“We are in good condition for the alternative of flight or combat,” the
Rover at length observed, while he cast a rapid look over the
preparations which had been unostentatiously in progress from the
moment when the officers dispersed. “Now will I confess, Wilder, a
secret pleasure in the belief that yonder audacious fool carries the
boasted commission of the German who wears the Crown of Britain. Should
he prove more than man may dare attempt, I will flout him; though
prudence shall check any further attempts; and, should he prove an
equal, would it not gladden your eyes to see St. George come drooping
to the water?”
“I thought that men in our pursuit left honour to silly heads, and that
we seldom struck a blow that was not intended to ring on a metal more
precious than iron.”
“’Tis the character the world gives; but I, for one, would rather lower
the pride of the minions of King George than possess the power of
unlocking his treasury! Said I well, General?” he added, as the
individual he named approached; “said I well, in asserting there was
glorious pleasure in making a pennant trail upon the sea?”
“We fight for victory,” returned the martinet. “I am ready to engage at
a minute’s notice.”
“Prompt and decided, as a soldier.—Now tell me, General, if Fortune, or
Chance, or Providence, whichever of the powers you may acknowledge for
a leader were to give you the option of enjoyments, in what would you
find your deepest satisfaction?”
The soldier seemed to ruminate, ere he answered,——
“I have often thought, that, were I commander of things on earth, I
should, backed by a dozen of my stoutest bullies, charge at the door of
that cave which was entered by the tailor’s boy, him they call
Aladdin.”
“The genuine aspirations of a freebooter! In such case, the magic trees
would soon be disburdened of their fruit. Still it might prove an
inglorious victory, since incantations and charms are the weapons of
the combatants. Call you honour nothing?”
“Hum! I fought for honour half of a reasonably long life, and found
myself as light at the close of all my dangers as at the beginning.
Honour and I have shaken hands, unless it be the honour of coming off
conqueror. I have a strong disgust of defeat, but am always ready to
sell the mere honour of the victory cheap.”
“Well, let it pass. The quality of the service is much the same, find
the motive where you will.—How now! who has dared to let yonder
top-gallant-sail fly?”
The startling change in the voice of the Rover caused all within
hearing of his words to tremble. Deep, anxious, and threatening
displeasure was in all its tones, and each man cast his eyes upwards,
to see on whose devoted head the weight of the dreaded indignation of
their chief was about to fall. As there was little but naked spars and
tightened ropes to obstruct the view, all became, at the same instant,
apprized of the truth. Fid was standing on the head of that topmast
which belonged to the particular portion of the vessel where he was
stationed, and the sail in question was fluttering, with all its gear
loosened far and high in the wind. His hearing had probably been
drowned by the heavy flapping of the canvas; for, instead of lending
his ears to the deep powerful call just mentioned, he rather stood
contemplating his work, than exhibiting any anxiety as to the effect it
might produce on the minds of those beneath him. But a second warning
came in tones too terrible to be any longer disregarded by ears even as
dull as those of the offender.
“By whose order have you dared to loosen the sail?” demanded the Rover.
“By the order of King Wind, your Honour. The best seaman must give in,
when a squall gets the upper hand.”
“Furl it! away aloft, and furl it!” shouted the excited leader. “Roll
it up; and send the fellow down who has been so bold as to own any
authority but my own in this ship, though it were that of a hurricane.”
A dozen nimble topmen ascended to the assistance of Fid. In another
minute, the unruly canvas was secured, and Richard himself was on his
way to the poop. During this brief interval, the brow of the Rover was
dark and angry as the surface of the element on which he lived, when
blackened by the tempest. Wilder, who had never before seen his new
Commander thus excited, began to tremble for the fate of his ancient
comrade, and drew nigher, as the latter approached, to intercede in his
favour, should the circumstances seem to require such an interposition.
“And why is this?” the still stern and angry leader demanded of the
offender. “Why is it that you, whom I have had such recent reason to
applaud, should dare to let fly a sail, at a moment when it is
important to keep the ship naked?”
“Your Honour will admit that his rations sometimes slips through the
best man’s fingers, and why not a bit of canvas?” deliberately returned
the delinquent “If I took a turn too many of the gasket off the yard,
it is a fault I am ready to answer for.”
“You say true, and dearly shall you pay the forfeit Take him to the
gangway, and let him make acquaintance with the cat.”
“No new acquaintance, your Honour, seeing that we have met before, and
that, too, for matters which I had reason to hide my head for; whereas,
here, it may be many blows, and little shame.”
“May I intercede in behalf of the offender?” interrupted Wilder, with
earnestness and haste. “He is often blundering, but rarely would he
err, had he as much knowledge as good-will.”
“Say nothing about it, master Harry,” returned the topman, with a
peculiar glance of his eye. “The sail has been flying finely, and it is
now too late to deny it: and so, I suppose, the fact must be scored on
the back of Richard Fid, as you would put any other misfortune into the
log.”
“I would he might be pardoned. I can venture to promise, in his name,
’twill be the last offence”—
“Let it be forgotten,” returned the Rover, struggling powerfully to
conquer his passion. “I will not disturb our harmony at such a moment,
Mr Wilder, by refusing so small a boon: but you need not be told to
what evil such negligence might lead. Give me the glass again; I will
see if the fluttering canvas has escaped the eye of the stranger.”
The topman bestowed a stolen but exulting glance on Wilder, and then
the latter motioned the other hastily away, turning himself to join his
Commander in the examination.