“Let them achieve me, and then sell my bones.”
_Henry V._
The Commander of the “Dart,” and his bewildered lieutenant, had gained
the quarter-deck before either spoke again. The direction first taken
by the eyes of the latter was in quest of the neighbouring ship; nor
was the look entirely without that unsettled and vague expression which
seems to announce a momentary aberration of the faculties. But the
vessel of the Rover was in view, in all the palpable and beautiful
proportions of her admirable construction Instead of lying in a state
of rest, as when he left her, her head-yards had been swung, and, as
the sails filled with the breeze, the stately fabric had he gun to
Marve gracefully, though with no great velocity along the water. There
was not the slightest appearance however, of any attempt at escape in
the evolution. On the contrary, the loftier and lighter sails had all
been furled, and men were at the moment actively employed in sending to
the deck those smaller spars which were absolutely requisite in
spreading the canvas that would be needed in facilitating her flight.
Wilder turned from the sight with a sickening apprehension; for he well
knew that these were the preparations that skillful mariners are wont
to make, when bent on desperate combat.
“Ay, yonder goes your St. James’s seaman, with his three topsails full,
and his mizzen out, as if he had already forgotten he is to dine with
me, and that his name is to be found at one end of the list of
Commanders and mine at the other,” grumbled the displeased Bignall.
“But we shall have him coming round all in good time, I suppose, when
his appetite tells him the dinner hour. He might wear his colours in
presence of a senior, too, and no disgrace to his nobility. By the
Lord, Harry Ark, he handles those yards beautifully! I warrant you,
now, some honest man’s son is sent aboard his ship for a dry nurse, in
the shape of a first lieutenant, and we shall have him vapouring, all
dinner time, about ‘how my ship does this,’ and ‘I never suffer that.’
Ha! is it not so, sir? He has a thorough seaman for his First?”
“Few men understand the profession better than does the Captain of
yonder vessel himself,” returned Wilder.
“The devil he does! You have been talking with him, Mr Ark, about these
matters, and he has got some of the fashions of the ‘Dart.’ I see into
a mystery as quick as another!”
“I do assure you, Captain Bignall, there is no safety in confiding in
the ignorance of yonder extra ordinary man.”
“Ay, ay, I begin to overhaul his character. The young dog is a quiz,
and has been amusing himself with a sailor of what he calls the old
school. Am I right, sir? He has seen salt water before this cruise?”
“He is almost a native of the seas; for more than thirty years has he
passed his time on them.”
“There, Harry Ark, he has done you handsomely. Now, I have his own
assertion for it, that he will not be three-and-twenty until
to-morrow.”
“On my word, he has deceived you, sir.”
“I don’t know, Mr Ark; that is a task much easier attempted than
performed. Threescore and four years add as much weight to a man’s head
as to his heels! I may have undervalued the skill of the younker but,
as to his years, there can be no great mistake. But where the devil is
the fellow steering to? Has he need of a pinafore from his lady mother
to come on board of a man-of-war for his dinner?”
“See! he is indeed standing from us!” exclaimed Wilder, with a rapidity
and delight that would have excited the suspicions of one more
observant than his Commander.
“If I know the stern from the bows of a ship, what you say is truth,”
returned the other, with some austerity. “Hark ye, Mr Ark, I’ve a mind
to furnish the coxcomb a lesson in respect for his superiors and give
him a row to whet his appetite. By the Lord, I will; and he may write
home an account of this manoeuvre, too, in his next despatches. Fill
away the after-yards, sir; fill away. Since this _honourable_ youth is
disposed to amuse himself with a sailing-match, he can take no offence
that others are in the same humour.”
The lieutenant of the watch, to whom the order was addressed, complied;
and, in another minute, the “Dart” was also beginning to move a-head,
though in a direction directly opposite to that taken by the “Dolphin.”
The old man highly enjoyed his own decision, manifesting his
self-satisfaction by the infinite glee and deep chuckling of his
manner. He was too much occupied with the step he had just taken, to
revert immediately to the subject that had so recently been uppermost
in his mind; nor did the thought of pursuing the discourse occur to
him, until the two ships had left a broad field of water between them,
as each moved, with ease and steadiness, on its proper course.
“Let him note that in his log-book, Mr Ark,” the irritable old seaman
then resumed, returning to the spot which Wilder had not left during
the intervening time. “Though my cook has no great relish for a frog,
they who would taste of his skill must seek him. By the Lord, boy, he
will have a pull of it, if he undertake to come-to on that tack.—But
how happens it that you got into his ship? All that part of the cruise
remains untold.”
“I have been wrecked, sir, since you received my last letter.”
“What! has Davy Jones got possession of the red gentleman at last?”
“The misfortune occurred in a ship from Bristol, aboard which I was
placed as a sort of prize-master.—He certainly continues to stand
slowly to the northward!”
“Let the young coxcomb go! he will have all the better appetite for his
supper. And so you were picked up by his Majesty’s ship the ‘Antelope.’
Ay, I see into the whole affair. You have only to give an old sea-dog
his course and compass, and he will find his way to port in the darkest
night. But how happened it that this Mr Howard affected to be ignorant
of your name, sir, when he saw it on the list of my officers?”
“Ignorant! Did he seem ignorant? perhaps”—
“Say no more, my brave fellow, say no more,” interrupted Wilder’s
considerate but choleric Commander. “I nave met with such rebuffs
myself; but we are above them, sir, far above them and their
impertinences together. No man need be ashamed of having earned his
commission, as you and I have done, in fair weather and in foul.
Zounds, boy, I have fed one of the upstarts for a week, and then had
him stare at a church across the way, when I have fallen in with him in
the streets of London, in a fashion that might make a simple man
believe the puppy knew for what it had been built. Think no more of it,
Harry; worse things have happened to myself, I do assure you.”
“I went by my assumed name while in yonder ship,” Wilder forced himself
to add. “Even the ladies who were the companions of my wreck, know me
by no other.”
“Ah! that was prudent; and, after all, the young sprig was not
pretending genteel ignorance. How now, master Fid; you are welcome back
to the Dart.’”
“I’ve taken the liberty to say as much already to myself, your Honour,”
resumed the topman, who was busying himself, near his two officers, in
a manner that seemed to invite their attention. “A wholesome craft is
yonder, and boldly is she commanded, and stoutly is she manned; but,
for my part, having a character to lose, it is more to my taste to sail
in a ship that can shew her commission, when properly called on for the
same.”
The colour on Wilder’s cheeks went and came like the flushings of the
evening sky, and his eyes were turned in every direction but that which
would have encountered the astonished gaze of his veteran friend.
“I am not quite sure that I understand the meaning of the lad, Mr Ark.
Every officer, from the Captain to the boatswain, in the King’s fleet,
that is, every man of common discretion, carries his authority to act
as such with him to sea, or he might find himself in a situation as
awkward as that of a pirate.”
“That is just what I said, sir; but schooling and long use have given
your Honour a better outfit in words. Guinea and I have often talked
the matter over together, and serious thoughts has it given to us both,
more than once, Captain Bignall. ‘Suppose,’ says I to the black,
‘suppose one of his Majesty’s boats should happen to fall in with this
here craft, and we should come to loggerheads and matches,’ says I,
‘what would the like of us two do in such a god-send?’—‘Why,’ says the
black, ‘we would stand to our guns on the side of master Harry,’ says
he; nor did I gainsay the same; but, saving his presence and your
Honour’s, I just took the liberty to add, that, in my poor opinion, it
would be much more comfortable to be killed in an honest ship than on
the deck of a buccaneer.”
“A buccaneer!” exclaimed his Commander, with eyes distended, and an
open mouth.
“Captain Bignall,” said Wilder, “I may have offended past forgiveness,
in remaining so long silent; but, when you hear my tale, there may be
found some passages that shall plead my apology. The vessel in sight is
the ship of the renowned Red Rover—nay listen, I conjure you by all
that kindness you have so long shewn me, and then censure as you will.”
The words of Wilder, aided as they were by an earnest and manly manner,
laid a restraint on the mounting indignation of the choleric old
seaman. He listened gravely and intently to the rapid but clear tale
which his lieutenant hastened to recount; and, ere the latter had done,
he had more than half entered into those grateful, and certainly
generous, feelings which had made the youth so reluctant to betray the
obnoxious character of a man who had dealt so liberally by himself. A
few strong, and what might be termed professional, exclamations of
surprise and admiration, occasionally interrupted the narrative; but,
on the whole, he curbed his impatience and his feelings, in a manner
that was sufficiently remarkable, when the temperament of the
individual is duly considered.
“This is wonderful indeed!” he exclaimed, as the other ended; “and a
thousand pities is it that so honest a fellow should be so arrant a
knave. But, Harry, we can never let him go at large after all, our
loyalty and our religion forbid it. We must tack ship, and stand after
him; if fair words won’t bring him to reason, I see no other remedy
than blows.”
“I fear it is no more than our duty, sir,” returned the young man, with
a deep sigh.
“It is a matter of religion.—And then the prating puppy, that he sent
on board me, is no Captain, after all! Still it was impossible to
deceive me as to the air and manner of a gentleman. I warrant me, some
young reprobate of a good family, or he would never have acted the
sprig so well. We must try to keep his name a secret, Mr Ark, in order
that no discredit should fall upon his friends. Our aristocratic
columns, though they get a little cracked and defaced, are, after all,
the pillars of the throne, and it does not become us to let vulgar eyes
look too closely into their unsoundness.”
“The individual who visited the ‘Dart’ was the Rover himself.”
“Ha! the Red Rover in my ship, nay, in my very presence!” exclaimed the
old tar, in a species of honest horror. “You are now pleased, sir, to
trifle with my good nature.”
“I should forget a thousand obligations, ere I could be so bold. On my
solemn asseveration, sir, it was no other.”
“This is unaccountable! extraordinary to a miracle! His disguise was
very complete, I will confess to deceive one so well skilled in the
human countenance. I saw nothing, sir, of his shaggy whiskers heard
nothing of his brutal voice, nor perceived any of those monstrous
deformities which are universally acknowledged to distinguish the man.”
“All of which are no more than the embellishments of vulgar rumour, I
fear me, sir, that the boldest and most dangerous of all our vices are
often found under the most pleasing exteriors.”
“But this is not even a man of inches, sir.”
“His body is not large, but it contains the spirit of a giant.”
“And do you believe yonder ship, Mr Ark, to be the vessel that fought
us in the equinox of March?”
“I know it to be no other.”
“Hark ye, Harry, for your sake, I will deal generously by the rogue. He
once escaped me, by the loss of a topmast, and stress of weather; but
we have here a good working breeze, that a man may safely count on, and
a fine regular sea. He is therefore mine, so soon as I choose to make
him so;—for I do not think he has any serious intention to run.”
“I fear not,” returned Wilder, unconsciously betraying his wishes in
the words.
“Fight he cannot, with any hopes of success; and, as he seems to be
altogether a different sort of personage from what I had supposed, we
will try the merits of negotiation. Will you undertake to be the bearer
of my propositions?—or, perhaps, he might repent of his moderation.”
“I pledge myself for his faith,” eagerly exclaimed Wilder “Let a gun be
fired to leeward. Mind, sir, all the tokens must be amicable—a flag of
truce set out at our main, and I will risk every hazard to lead him
back into the bosom of society.”
“By George, it would at least be acting a Christian part,” returned the
Commander, after a moment’s thought; “and, though we miss knighthood
below, lad, for our success, there will be better birth cleared for us
aloft.”
No sooner had the warm-hearted, and perhaps a little visionary, Captain
of the “Dart,” and his lieutenant, determined on this measure, than
they both set eagerly about the means of insuring its success. The helm
of the ship was put a-lee; and, as her head came sweeping up into the
wind, a sheet of flame flashed from her leeward bow-port, sending the
customary amicable intimation across the water, that those who governed
her movements would communicate with the possessors of the vessel in
sight. At the same instant, a small flag, with a spotless field was
seen floating at the topmost elevation of all her spars, whilst the
flag of England was lowered from the gaff. A half minute of deep
inquietude succeeded these signals, in the bosoms of those who had
ordered them to be made. Their suspense was however speedily
terminated. A cloud of smoke drove before the wind from the vessel of
the Rover, and then the smothered explosion of the answering gun came
dull upon their ears. A flag, similar to their own, was seen floating,
as it might be, like a dove fanning its wings, far above her tops; but
no emblem of any sort was borne at the spar, where the colours which
distinguish the national character of a cruiser are usually seen.
“The fellow has the modesty to carry a naked gaff in our presence,”
said Bignall, pointing out the circumstance to his companion, as an
augury favourable to their success. “We will stand for him until within
a reasonable distance, and then you shall take to the boat.”
In conformity with this determination, the “Dart” was brought on the
other tack, and several sails were set, in order to quicken her speed.
When at the distance of half cannon shot, Wilder suggested to his
superior the propriety of arresting their further progress in order to
avoid the appearance of hostilities. The boat was immediately lowered
into the sea, and manned; a flag of truce set in her bows: and the
whole was reported ready to receive the bearer of the message.
“You may hand him this statement of our force, Mr Ark; for, as he is a
reasonable man, he will see the advantage it gives us,” said the
Captain, after having exhausted his manifold and often repeated
instructions. “I think you may promise him indemnity for the past,
provided he comply with all my conditions; at all events, you will say
that no influence shall be spared to get a complete whitewashing for
himself at least. God bless you, boy! Take care to say nothing of the
damages we received in the affair of March last; for—ay—for the equinox
was blowing heavy at the time, you know. Adieu! and success attend
you!”
The boat shoved off from the side of the vessel as he ended, and in a
few moments the listening Wilder was borne far beyond the sound of any
further words of advisement. Our adventurer had sufficient time to
reflect on the extraordinary situation in which he now found himself,
during the row to the still distant ship. Once or twice, slight and
uneasy glimmerings of distrust, concerning the prudence of the step he
was taking, beset his mind; though a recollection of the lofty feeling
of the man in whom he confided ever presented itself in sufficient
season to prevent the apprehension from gaining any undue ascendency.
Notwithstanding the delicacy of his situation, that characteristic
interest in his profession, which is rarely dormant in the bosom of a
thorough-bred seaman, was strongly stimulated as he approached the
vessel of the Rover. The perfect symmetry of her spars the graceful
heavings and settings of the whole fabric is it rode, like a marine
bird, on the long, regular swells of the trades, and the graceful
inclinations of the tapering masts, as they waved across the blue
canopy, which was interlaced by all the tracery of her complicated
tackle, was not lost on an eye that knew no less how to prize the order
of the whole than to admire the beauty of the object itself. There is a
high and exquisite taste, which the seaman attains in the study of a
machine that all have united to commend, which may be likened to the
sensibilities that the artist acquires by close and long contemplation
of the noblest monuments of antiquity. It teaches him to detect those
imperfections which would escape any less instructed eye; and it
heightens the pleasure with which a ship at sea is gazed at, by
enabling the mind to keep even pace with the enjoyment of the senses.
It is this powerful (and to a landsman incomprehensible) charm that
forms the secret tie which binds the mariner so closely to his vessel,
and which often leads him to prize her qualities as one would esteem
the virtues of a friend, and almost to be equally enamoured of the fair
proportions of his ship and of those of his mistress. Other men may
have their different inanimate subjects of admiration; but none of
their feelings so thoroughly enter into the composition of the being as
the affection which the mariner comes, in time, to feel for his vessel.
It is his home, his theme of constant and frequently of painful
interest, his tabernacle and often his source of pride and exultation.
As she gratifies or disappoints his high-wrought expectations in her
speed or in the fight, mid shoals and hurricanes, a character for good
or luckless qualities is earned, which are as often in reality due to
the skill or ignorance of those who guide her, as to any inherent
properties of the fabric. Still does the ship itself, in the eyes of
the seaman, bear away the laurel of success, or suffer the ignominy of
defeat and misfortune; and, when the reverse arrives, the result is
merely regarded as some extraordinary departure from the ordinary
character of the vessel, as if the construction possessed the powers of
entire self-command and perfect volition.
Though not so deeply imbued with that species of superstitious
credulity, on this subject, as the inferiors of his profession, Wilder
was keenly awake to most of the sensibilities of a mariner. So
strongly, indeed, was he alive to this feeling, on the present
occasion, that for a moment he forgot the critical nature of his
errand, as he drew within plainer view of a vessel that, with justice,
might lay claim to be a jewel of the ocean.
“Lay on your oars, lads,” he said, signing to his people to arrest the
progress of the boat; “lay on your oars! Did you ever see masts more
beautifully in line than those, master Fid, or sails that had a fairer
fit?”
The topman, who rowed the stroke-oar of the pinnace cast a look over
his shoulder, and, stowing into one of his cheeks a lump that resembled
a wad laid by the side of its gun, he was not slow to answer, on an
occasion where his opinion was so directly demanded.
“I care not who knows it,” he said, “for, done by honest men or done by
knaves, I told the people on the forecastle of the; ‘Dart,’ in the
first five minutes after I got among them again, that they might be at
Spithead a month, and not see hamper so light, and yet so handy, as is
seen aboard that flyer. Her lower rigging is harpened-in, like the
waist of Nell Dale after she has had a fresh pull upon her
stay-lanyards, and there isn’t a block, among them all, that seems
bigger in its place than do the eyes of the girl in her own
good-looking countenance. That bit of a set that you see to her
fore-brace-block, was given by the hand of one Richard Fid; and the
heart on her main-stay was turned-in by Guinea, here; and, considering
he is a nigger, I call it ship-shape.”
“She is beautiful in every part!” said Wilder, drawing a long breath.
“Give way, my men, give way! Do you think I have come here to take the
soundings of the ocean?”
The crew started at the hurried tones of their lieutenant and in
another minute the boat was at the side of the vessel. The stern and
threatening glances that Wilder encountered, as his foot touched the
planks, caused him to pause an instant, ere he advanced further amid
the crew. But the presence of the Rover himself, who stood, with his
peculiar air of high and imposing authority, on the quarter-deck,
encouraged him to proceed, after permitting a delay that was too slight
to attract attention. His lips were in the act of parting, when a sign
from the other induced him to remain silent, until they were both in
the privacy of the cabin.
“Suspicion is awake among my people, Mr Ark,” commenced the Rover, when
they were thus retired, laying a marked and significant emphasis on the
name he used. “Suspicion is stirring, though, as yet, they hardly know
what to credit. The manoeuvres of the two ships have not been such as
they are wont to see, and voices are not wanting to whisper in their
ears matter that is somewhat injurious to your interests. You have not
done well, sir, in returning among us.”
“I came by the order of my superior, and under the sanction of a flag.”
“We are small reasoners in the legal distinction of the world, and may
mistake your rights in so novel a character. But,” he immediately
added, with dignity, “if you bear a message, I may presume it is
intended for my ears.”
“And for no other. We are not alone, Captain Heidegger.”
“Heed not the boy; he is deaf at my will.”
“I could wish to communicate to you only the offers that I bear.”
“That mast is not more senseless than Roderick,” said the other calmly,
but with decision.
“Then must I speak at every hazard.—The Commander of yon ship, who
bears the commission of our royal master George the Second, has ordered
me to say thus much for your consideration: On condition that you will
surrender this vessel, with all her stores, armament, and warlike
munitions, uninjured he will content himself with taking ten hostages
from your crew, to be decided by lot, yourself, and one other of your
officers, and either to receive the remainder into the service of the
King, or to suffer them to disperse in pursuit of a calling more
creditable, and, as it would now appear, more safe.”
“This is the liberality of a prince! I should kneel and kiss the deck
before one whose lips utter such sounds of mercy!”
“I repeat but the words of my superior,” Wilder resumed. “For yourself,
he further promises, that his interest shall be exerted to procure a
pardon, on condition that you quit the seas, and renounce the name of
Englishman for ever.”
“The latter is done to his hands: But may I know the reason that such
lenity is shewn to one whose name has been so long proscribed of men?”
“Captain Bignall has heard of your generous treatment of his officer,
and the delicacy that the daughter and widow of two ancient brethren in
arms have received at your hands. He confesses that rumour has not done
entire justice to your character.”
A mighty effort kept down the gleam of exultation that flashed across
the features of the listener, who, however, succeeded in continuing
utterly calm and immovable.
“He has been deceived, sir”—he coldly resumed, as though he would
encourage the other to proceed.
“That much is he free to acknowledge. A representation of this common
error, to the proper authorities, will have weight in procuring the
promised amnesty for the past, and, as he hopes, brighter prospects for
the future.”
“And does he urge no other motive than his pleasure why I should make
this violent change in all my habits, why I should renounce an element
that has become as necessary to me as the one I breathe and why, in
particular, I am to disclaim the vaunted privilege of calling myself a
Briton?”
“He does. This statement of a force, which you may freely examine with
your own eyes, if so disposed, must convince you of the hopelessness of
resistance, and will, he thinks, induce you to accept his offers.”
“And what is _your_ opinion?” the other demanded, with a meaning smile
and peculiar emphasis, as he extended a hand to receive the written
statement. “But I beg pardon,” he hastily added, taking the look of
gravity from the countenance of his companion “I trifle, when the
moment requires all our seriousness.”
The eye of the Rover ran rapidly over the paper, resting itself, once
or twice, with a slight exhibition of interest, on particular points,
that seemed most to merit his attention.
“You find the superiority such as I had already given you reason to
believe?” demanded Wilder, when the look of the other wandered from the
paper.
“I do.”
“And may I now ask your decision on the offer?”
“First, tell me what does your own heart advise? This is but the
language of another.”
“Captain Heidegger,” said Wilder, colouring, “I will not attempt to
conceal, that, had this message depended solely on myself, it might
have been couched in different terms; but as one, who still deeply
retains the recollection of your generosity, as a man would not
willingly induce even an enemy to an act of dishonour, do I urge their
acceptance. You will excuse me, if I say, that, in my recent
intercourse I have had reason to believe you already perceive that
neither the character you could wish to earn, nor the content that all
men crave, is to be found in your present career.”
“I had not thought I entertained so close a casuist in Mr Henry Wilder.
Have you more to urge, sir?”
“Nothing,” returned the disappointed and grieved messenger of the
“Dart.”
“Yes, yes, he has,” said a low but eager voice at the elbow of the
Rover, which rather seemed to breathe out the syllables than dare to
utter them aloud; “he has not yet delivered the half of his commission,
or sadly has he forgotten the sacred trust!”
“The boy is often a dreamer,” interrupted the Rover, smiling, with a
wild and haggard look. “He sometimes gives form to his unmeaning
thoughts, by clothing them in words.”
“My thoughts are not unmeaning,” continued Roderick, in a louder and
far bolder strain. “If his peace or happiness be dear to you, do not
yet leave him. Tell him of his high and honourable name of his youth;
of that gentle and virtuous being that he once so fondly loved, and
whose memory, even now, he worships. Speak to him of these, as you know
how to speak; and, on my life, his ear will not be deaf, his heart
cannot be callous to your words.”
“The urchin is mad!”
“I am not mad; or, if maddened, it is by the crimes, the dangers, of
those I love. Oh! Mr Wilder, do not leave him. Since you have been
among us, he is nearer to what I know he once was, than formerly. Take
away that mistaken statement of your force; threats do but harden him:
As a friend admonish; but hope for nothing as a minister of vengeance.
You know not the fearful nature of the man, or you would not attempt to
stop a torrent. Now—now speak to him; for, see, his eye is already
growing kinder.”
“It is in pity, boy, to witness how thy reason wavers.”
“Had it never swerved more than at this moment Walter, another need not
be called upon to speak between thee and me! My words would then have
been regarded, my voice would then have been loud enough to be heard.
Why are you dumb? a single happy syllable might now save him.”
“Wilder, the child is frightened by this counting of guns and numbering
of people. He fears the anger of your anointed master. Go; give him
place in your boat, and recommend him to the mercy of your superior.”
“Away, away!” cried Roderick. “I shall not, will not, cannot leave you.
Who is there left for me in this world but you?”
“Yes,” continued the Rover, whose forced calmness of expression had
changed to one of deep and melancholy musing; “it will indeed be better
thus. See, here is much gold; you will commend him to the care of that
admirable woman who already watches one scarcely less helpless, though
possibly less—”
“Guilty! speak the word boldly, Walter. I have earned the epithet, and
shall not shrink to hear it spoken. Look,” he said, taking the
ponderous bag which had been extended towards Wilder, and holding it
high above his head, in scorn, “this can I cast from me; but the tie
which binds me to you shall never be broken.”
As he spoke, the lad approached an open window of the cabin; a splash
upon the water was heard, and then a treasure, that might have
furnished a competence to moderate wishes, was lost for ever to the
uses of those who had created its value. The lieutenant of the “Dart”
turned in haste to deprecate the anger of the Rover; but his eye could
trace, in the features of the lawless chief, no other emotion than a
pity which was discoverable even through his calm and unmoved smile.
“Roderick would make but a faithless treasurer,” he said. “Still it is
not too late to restore him to his friends. The loss of the gold can be
repaired; but, should any serious calamity befall the boy, I might
never regain a perfect peace of mind.”
“Then keep him near yourself,” murmured the lad, whose vehemence had
seemingly expended itself. “Go, Mr Wilder, go; your boat is waiting; a
longer stay will be without an object.”
“I fear it will!” returned our adventurer, who had not ceased, during
the previous dialogue, to keep his look fastened, in manly
commiseration, on the countenance of the boy; “I greatly fear it
will!—Since I have come the messenger of another, Captain Heidegger it
is your province to supply a fitting answer to my proposition.”
The Rover took him by the arm, and led him to a position whence they
might look upon the outer scene. Then, pointing upward at his spars,
and making his companion observe the small quantity of sail he carried,
he simply said, “Sir, you are a seaman and may judge of my intentions
by this sight I shall neither seek nor avoid your boasted cruiser of
King George.”