CHAPTER XX.

“Pass on relentless world! I grieve

No more for all that thou hast riven!

Pass on, in God's name--only leave

The things thou never yet hast given.--”

LUNT.

After every means had been uselessly exhausted to persuade Marble from

his design, it only remained to do all we could to make him comfortable

and secure. Of enemies, there was no danger, and care was not necessary

for defence. We got together, however, some of the timber, planks and

other materials, that were remaining at the shipyard, and built him a

cabin, that offered much better shelter against the tropical storms that

sometimes prevailed, than any tent could yield. We made this cabin

as wide as a plank is long, or twelve feet, and some five or six feet

longer. It was well sided and tightly roofed, having three windows and a

door. The lights of the wreck supplied the first, and her cabin-door the

last. We had hinges, and everything that was necessary to keep things in

their place. There was no chimney required, fire being unnecessary for

warmth in that climate; but the French had brought their camboose

from the wreck, and this we placed under a proper covering at a short

distance from the hut, the strength of one man being insufficient to

move it. We also enclosed, by means of ropes, and posts made of the ribs

of the wreck, a plot of ground of two acres in extent, where the land

was the richest and unshaded, so as to prevent the pigs from injuring

the vegetables; and, poor Marble knowing little of gardening, I had a

melancholy pleasure in seeing the whole piece dug, or rather hoed up,

and sown and planted myself, before we sailed. We put in corn, potatoes,

peas, beans, lettuce, radishes, and several other things, of which

we found the seeds in the French garden. We took pains, moreover, to

transport from the wreck, many articles that it was thought might prove

of use, though they were too heavy for Marble to handle. As there

were near forty of us, all busy in this way for three or four days, we

effected a great deal, and may be said to have got the island in order.

I felt the same interest in the duty, that I should in bestowing a child

for life.

Marble, himself, was not much among us all this time. He rather

complained that I should leave him nothing to do, though I could see

he was touched by the interest we manifested in his welfare. The French

launch had been used as the means of conveyance between the wreck

and the beach, and we found it where it had been left by its original

owners, anchored to-leeward of the island, and abreast of the ship. It

was the last thing I meddled with and it was my care to put it in such a

state that, at need, it might be navigated across that tranquil sea, to

some other island, should Marble feel a desire to abandon his solitude.

The disposition I made of the boat was as follows:--

The launch was large and coppered, and it carried two lug-sails. I had

both masts stepped, with the yards, sails, sheets, &c. prepared, and put

in their places; a stout rope was next carried round the entire boat,

outside, and a few inches below the gunwale, where it was securely

nailed. From this rope, led a number of lanyards, with eyes turned into

their ends. Through these eyes I rove a sort of ridge-rope, leading it

also through the eyes of several stancheons that were firmly stepped on

the thwarts. The effect, when the ridge-rope was set up, was to give

the boat the protection of this waist-cloth, which inclined inboard,

however, sufficiently to leave an open passage between the two sides, of

only about half the beam of the boat. To the ridge-rope and lanyards,

I had tarpaulins firmly attached, tacking their lower edges strongly to

the outer sides of the boat. By this arrangement, when all was in its

place, and properly secured, a sea might break, or a wave slap against

the boat, without her taking in much water. It doubled her security in

this particular, more than answering the purposes of a half-deck and

wash-board. It is true, a very heavy wave might carry all away; but very

heavy waves would probably fill the boat, under any circumstances. Such

a craft could only find safety in her buoyancy; and we made her as safe

as an undecked vessel very well could be.

Marble watched me while I was superintending these changes in the

boat, with a good deal of interest; and one evening--I had announced an

intention to sail next morning, the Major and Emily having actually gone

on board--that evening, he got my arm, and led me away from the spot,

like a man who has urgent business. I could see that he was much

affected, and had strong hopes he intended to announce a change of

purpose. His hand actually trembled, the whole time it grasped my arm.

“God bless you! Miles--God bless you, dear boy!” he said, speaking with

difficulty, as soon as we were out of earshot from the others. “If any

being could make me pine for the world, it would be such a friend as

you. I could live on without father or mother, brother or sister, ship

or confidence of my owners, good name even, were I sure of meeting such

a lad as yourself in only every thousandth man I fell in with. But,

young as you are, you know how it is with mankind; and no more need

be said about it. All I ask now is, that you will knock off with this

'making him comfortable,' as you call it, or you'll leave me nothing

to do for myself. I can fit out that boat as well as e'er a man in the

Crisis, I'd have you to know.”

“I am well aware of that, my friend; but I am not so certain that you

_would._ In that boat, I am in hopes you will follow us out to sea, and

come on board again, and take your old place as master.”

Marble shook his head, and I believe he saw by my manner that I had

no serious expectations of the sort I named. We walked some distance

farther, in silence, before he again spoke. Then he said suddenly, and

in a way to show how much his mind was troubled--

“Miles, my dear fellow, you must let me hear from you!”

“Hear from me! By what means, pray? You cannot expect the

Postmaster-General will make a mail-route between New York and this

island?”

“Poh! I'm getting old, and losing my memory. I was generalizing on

friendship, and the like of that, and the idee ran away with me. I know,

of course, when you are out of sight, that I shall be cut off from the

rest of the world--probably shall never see a human face again. But what

of that? My time cannot be long now, and I shall have the fish, fowls

and pigs to talk to. To tell you the truth, Miles. Miss Merton gave me

her own Bible yesterday, and, at my request, she pointed out that part

which gives the account about Moses in the bulrushes, and I've just been

looking it over: it is easy enough, now, to understand why I was called

Moses.”

“But Moses did not think it necessary to go and live in a desert, or on

an uninhabited island, merely because he was found in those bulrushes.”

_“That_ Moses had no occasion to be ashamed of his parents. It was

fear, not shame, that sent him adrift. Nor did Moses ever let a set of

lubberly Frenchmen seize a fine, stout ship, like the Crisis, with a

good, able-bodied crew of forty men on board her.”

“Come, Marble, you have too much sense to talk in this manner. It is,

fortunately, not too late to change your mind; and I will let it be

understood that you did so at my persuasion.”

This was the commencement of a final effort on my part to induce my

friend to abandon his mad project. We conversed quite an hour, until

I had exhausted my breath, as well as my arguments, indeed; and all

without the least success. I pointed out to him the miserable plight he

must be in, in the event of illness; but it was an argument that had

no effect on a man who had never had even a headach in his life. As for

society, he cared not a straw for it when ashore, he often boasted;

and he could not yet appreciate the effects of total solitude. Once or

twice, remarks escaped him as if he thought it possible I might one

day return; but they were ventured in pleasantry, rather than with any

appearance of seriousness. I could see that the self-devoted hermit had

his misgivings, but I could obtain no verbal concession from him to that

effect. He was reminded that the ship must positively sail next day,

since it would not do to trifle with the interests of the owners any

longer.

“I know it, Miles,” Marble answered, “and no more need be said on the

subject. Your people are through with their work, and here comes Neb to

report the boat ready to go off. I shall try my hand ashore to-night,

alone; in the morning, I suppose you would like to take an old shipmate

by the hand for the last time, and you will nat'rally look for me at the

water-side. Good-night! Before we part, however, I may as well thank you

for the supply of clothes I see you have put in my hut. It was scarcely

wanted, as I have enough needles and thread to supply a slop-shop; and

the old duck left by the French will keep me in jackets and trowsers for

the remainder of my days. Good-night, my dear boy! God bless you--God

bless you!”

It was nearly dark, but I could see that Marble's eyes looked moist, and

feel that his hand again trembled. I left him, not without the hope

that the solitude of this night, the first in which he had been left by

himself, would have the effect to lessen his desire to be a hermit.

When I turned in, it was understood that all hands were to be called at

daylight, and the ship unmoored.

Talcott came to call me, at the indicated moment. I had made him

chief-mate, and taken one of the Philadelphians for second officer; a

young man who had every requisite for the station, and one more than

was necessary, or a love of liquor. But, drunkards do tolerably well

on board a ship in which reasonable discipline is maintained. For that

matter, Neptune ought to be a profound moralist, as youths are very

generally sent to sea to cure most of the ethical flings. Talcott was

directed to unmoor, and heave short. As for myself, I got into a boat

and pulled ashore, with an intention of making a last and strong appeal

to Marble.

No one was visible on the island when we reached it. The pigs and fowls

were already in motion, however, and were gathering near the door of the

hut, where Marble was accustomed to feed them about that hour; the fowls

on _sugar_, principally. I proceeded to the door, opened it, entered the

place, and found it empty! Its late inmate was then up, and abroad. He

had probably passed a sleepless night, and sought relief in the fresh

air of the morning. I looked for him in the adjacent grove, on the outer

beach, and in most of his usual haunts. He was nowhere visible. A little

vexed at having so long a walk before me, at a moment when we were so

much pressed for time, I was about to follow the grove to a distant part

of the island, to a spot that I knew Marble frequented a good deal, when

moody; but my steps were arrested by an accidental glance at the lagoon.

I missed the Frenchman's launch, or the boat I had: myself caused to be

rigged with so much care, the previous day, for the intended hermit's

especial advantage. This was a large boat; one that had been constructed

to weigh a heavy anchor; and I had left her, moored between a grapnel

and the shore, so securely, as to forbid the idea she could have been

moved, in so quiet a time, without the aid of hands. Rushing to the

water, I got into my own boat, and pulled directly on board.

On reaching the ship, a muster of all hands was ordered. The result

proved that everybody was present, and at duty. It followed that Marble,

alone, had carried the boat out of the lagoon. The men who had had the

anchor-watches during the past night, were questioned on the subject;

but no one had seen or heard anything of a movement in the launch. Mr.

Talcott was told to continue his duty, while I went aloft myself, to

look at the offing. I was soon in the main-top-mast cross-trees, where

a view was commanded of the whole island, a few covers excepted, of all

the water within the reef, and of a wide range without. Nowhere was the

boat or Marble to be seen. It was barely possible that he had concealed

himself behind the wreck, though I did not see how even this could be

done, unless he had taken the precaution to strike the launch's masts.

By this time, our last anchor was aweigh, and the ship was clear of

the bottom. The top-sails had been hoisted before I went aloft, and

everything was now ready for filling away. Too anxious to go on deck,

under such circumstances, and a lofty position being the best for

ascertaining the presence of rocks, I determined to remain where I was,

and conn the ship through the passes, in my own person. An order was

accordingly given to set the jib, and to swing the head-yards, and get

the spanker on the ship. In a minute, the Crisis was again in motion,

moving steadily towards the inlet. As the lagoon was not entirely free

from danger, coral rocks rising in places quite near the surface of the

water, I was obliged to be attentive to the pilot's duty, until we

got into the outer bay, when this particular danger in a great measure

disappeared. I could then look about me with more freedom. Though we so

far changed our position, as respected the wreck, as to open new views

of it, no launch was to be seen behind it. By the time the ship reached

the passage through the reef, I had little hope of finding it there.

We had got to be too familiar with the channels, to have any difficulty

in taking the ship through them; and we were soon fairly to windward of

the reef. Our course, however, lay to leeward; and we passed round the

southern side of the rocks, under the same easy canvass, until we got

abreast, and within half a cable's length of the wreck. To aid my own

eyes, I had called up Talcott and Neb; but neither of us could obtain

the least glimpse of the launch. Nothing was to be seen about the wreck;

though I took the precaution to send a boat to it. All was useless.

Marble had gone out to sea, quite alone, in the Frenchman's launch; and,

though twenty pairs of eyes were now aloft, no one could even fancy that

he saw anything in the offing, that resembled a boat.

Talcott and myself had a private interview on the subject of Marble's

probable course. My mate was of opinion, that our friend had made the

best of his way for some of the inhabited islands, unwilling to remain

here, when it came to the pinch, and yet ashamed to rejoin us. I could

hardly believe this; in such a case, I thought he would have waited

until we had sailed; when he might have left the island also, and nobody

been the wiser. To this Talcott answered that Marble probably feared our

importunities; possibly, compulsion. It seemed singular to me, that a

man who regretted his hasty decision, should adopt such a course;

and yet I was at a loss to explain the matter much more to my own

satisfaction. Nevertheless, there was no remedy. We were as much in the

dark as it was possible to be with a knowledge of the circumstance that

the bird had flown.

We hovered around the reef for several hours, most of which time I

passed in the cross-trees, and some of it on the royal-yard. Once,

I thought I saw a small speck on the ocean, dead to windward, that

resembled a boat's sail; but there were so many birds flying about, and

glancing beneath the sun's rays, that I was reluctantly compelled to

admit it was probably one of them. At meridian, therefore, I gave the

order to square away, and to make sail on our course. This was done

with the greatest reluctance, however, and not without a good deal of

vaciliation of purpose. The ship moved away from the land rapidly, and

by two o'clock, the line of cocoa-nut trees that fringed the horizon

astern, sunk entirely beneath the rolling margin of our view. From that

moment, I abandoned the expectation of ever seeing Moses Marble again,

though the occurrence left all of us sad, for several days.

Major Merton and his daughter were on the poop, nearly the whole of this

morning. Neither interfered in the least; for the old soldier was too

familiar with discipline to venture an opinion concerning the management

of the ship. When we met at dinner, however, the conversation naturally

turned on the disappearance of our old friend.

“It is a thousand pities that pride should have prevented Marble from

acknowledging his mistake,” observed the Major, “and thus kept him from

getting a safe passage to Canton, where he might have left you, and

joined another ship had he thought it necessary.”

“Where we shall do the same thing, I suppose, dear sir,” added

Emily, with a manner that I thought marked, “and thus relieve Captain

Wallingford from the encumbrance of our presence.”

“Me!--call your delightful society anything but an enumbrance, I beg of

you, Miss Merton,” I rejoined in haste.

“Now, that Mr. Le Compte has furnished this comfortable cabin, and

you are no longer at any inconvenience to yourselves, I would not be

deprived of the advantage and pleasure of this association, for more

than I dare mention.”

Emily looked gratified; while her father appeared to me to be

thoughtful. After a brief pause, however, the Major resumed the

discourse.

“I should certainly feel myself bound to make many apologies for the

trouble we are giving,” he said, “especially, since I understand from

Wallingford, he will not accept, either for himself or his owners,

anything like compensation even for the food we consume, were it not

that we are here by constraint, and not by any agency of our own. As

soon as we reach Canton, however, I shall feel it a duty to get on board

the first English ship that will receive us.”

I stole a glance at Emily, but could not understand the expression of

her countenance, as she heard this announcement. Of course, I made an

earnest protest against the Major's doing anything of the sort; and yet

I could not well find any sufficient reason for urging him to remain

where he was, beyond my own gratification. I could not go to either

England, or Bombay; and I took it for granted Major Merton wished to

proceed, at once, to one, if not to both of these places. We conversed,

a little generally perhaps, on the subject for some time longer; and

when I left the cabin, it struck me, Emily's melancholy had, in no

degree, lessened.

It is a long road to traverse over half of the Pacific. Weeks and weeks

were thus occupied; Talcott and myself profiting by every suitable

occasion, to enjoy the advantages of the association chance had thus

thrown in our way. I make no doubt I was greatly benefited by my

constant communications with the Mertons; the Major being a cultivated,

though not a particularly brilliant, man; while I conceive it to

be utterly impossible for two young men, of our time of life and

profession, to be daily, almost hourly, in the company of a young woman

like Emily Merton, without losing some of the peculiar roughness of

the sea, and getting, in its place, some small portion of the gentler

qualities of the saloon. I date a certain _a plomb_, an absence of

shyness in the company of females, from this habitual intercourse

with one of the sex who had, herself, been carefully educated in

the conventionalities of respectable, if not of very elegant or

sophisticated society.

At length we reached the China seas, and falling in to windward, we made

a quick run to Canton. It now became necessary for me to attend to the

ship and the interests of my owners; suffering my passengers to land

at Whampoa, with the understanding we were to meet before either party

sailed. I soon disposed of the sandal-wood and skins, and found no

difficulty in procuring teas, nankins, china-ware, and the other

articles pointed out, in the instructions to poor Captain Williams.

I profited by the occasion, also, to make certain purchases on my own

account, that I had a presentiment would be particularly agreeable

to the future mistress of Clawbonny, let that lady turn out to be

whomsoever she might. The dollars obtained on the west coast of South

America enabled me to do this; my instructions giving the necessary

authority to use a few of them on private account. My privilege as

master rendered all proper.

In a word, the residence of six or eight weeks at Canton, proved a very

advantageous affair for those whose money was embarked in the Crisis.

Sandal-wood and sea-otter skins brought particularly high prices; while

teas, and the manufactures of the country, happened to be low. I had no

merit in this; not a particle; and yet I reaped the advantage, so far as

advantage was connected with the mere reputation of the voyage; success

being of nearly as great account in commerce, as in war. It is true,

I worked like a dog; for I worked under an entirely novel sense of

responsibility, and with a feeling I am certain that could never have

oppressed me in the care of my own property; and I deserved some portion

of the credit subsequently obtained. At all events, I was heartily

rejoiced when the hatches were on, and the ship was once more ready for

sea.

It now became a duty, as well as a pleasure, to seek Major Merton, whom

I had seen but once or twice during the last two months. He had passed

that time at Whampao, while I had been either at the factories, or

on board. The Major was occupied when I called; and Emily received me

alone. When she learned that I was ready to sail for home, and had

come to take my leave, it was easy to see that she was uneasy, if

not distressed. I felt unhappy at parting too, and perhaps I had less

scruple about saying as much.

“God only knows, Miss Merton, whether we are ever to be permitted to see

each other again,” I remarked, after the preliminary explanations had

been made.

The reader will remember that I am now an old man, and that vanity no

longer has any of that influence over me which it might be supposed

to possess over one of more juvenile hopes and feelings; that I relate

facts, without reference to their effect on myself, beyond the general

salvo of some lingering weaknesses of humanity. I trust, therefore, I

shall be understood in all my necessary allusions to the estimation in

which I was apparently held by others. Emily fairly started when I

made this remark concerning the probable duration of the approaching

separation, and the colour left her cheek. Her pretty white hand

shook, so that she had difficulty in using her needle; and there was an

appearance of agitation and distress about the charming girl, that I had

never before witnessed in one whose manner was usually so self-possessed

and calm. I _now_ know the reason why I did not throw myself on my

knees, and beg the charming girl to consent to accompany me to America,

though I wondered at myself afterwards, when I came to reflect coolly

on all that passed, for my stoicism. I will not affirm that I fancied

Emily's agitation to be altogether owing to myself; but I confess to

an inability to account for it, in any other manner, as agreeable

to myself. The appearance of Major Merton at that instant, however,

prevented everything like a scene, and probably restored us both to

a consciousness of the necessity of seeming calm. As for the Major,

himself, he was evidently far from being unconcerned, something having

occurred to disturb him. So very apparent was this, that I commenced the

discourse by asking if he were unwell.

“Always _that,_ I fear, Miles,” he answered; “my physician has just told

me frankly, unless I get into a cold climate as soon as possible, my

life will not be worth six months' purchase.”

“Then sail with me, sir,” I cried, with an eagerness and heartiness that

must have proved my sincerity. “Happily, I am not too late to make the

offer; and, as for getting away, I am ready to sail to-morrow!”

“I am forbidden to go near Bombay,” continued the Major, looking

anxiously at his daughter; “and that appointment must be abandoned. If I

could continue to hold it, there is no probability of a chance to reach

my station this half-year.”

“So much the better for me, sir. In four or five months from this

moment, I will land you in New York, where you will find the climate

cold enough for any disease. I ask you as friends--as guests--not as

passengers; and to prove it, the table of the upper cabin, in future,

shall be mine. I have barely left room in the lower cabin to sleep or

dress in, having filled it with my own private venture, as is my right.”

“You are as generous as kind, Miles; but what will your owners think of

such an arrangement?”

“They have no right to complain. The cabin and passengers, should any

of the last offer, after deducting a very small allowance for the ship's

portion of the food and water, are mine by agreement. All the better

food I find at my own charge; and, should you insist on remunerating the

owners for the coarser, or such as they find, you can do so, it will be

less than a hundred dollars, at the most.”

“On these conditions, then, I shall thankfully profit by your offer;

attaching, however, one more that I trust you may be permitted to

fulfil. It is important to me that I reach England--can you touch at St.

Helena?”

“Willingly, if it be your wish. The health of the crew, moreover, may

render it desirable.”

“There, then, I will quit you, if an opportunity offer to proceed to

England. Our bargain is made, dear Miles; and to-morrow I shall be ready

to embark.”

I think Emily never looked more beautiful than she did while listening

to this arrangement. It doubtless relieved her mind on the painful

subject of her father's health, and I fancied it relieved it also on the

subject of our own immediate separation. Months must elapse before we

could reach St. Helena; and who could foresee what those months might

bring forth? As I had a good deal to do at such a moment, I took my

leave, with my feelings lightened, as it might be, of a burthen. The

reader will at once infer, I was in love. But he will be mistaken. I was

not in love; though my imagination, to use a cant phrase of some of the

sects, was greatly exercised. Lucy, even then, had a hold of my _heart_

in a way of which I was ignorant myself; but it was not in nature for a

youth, just approaching his majority, to pass months and months, almost

alone, in the society of a lovely girl who was a year or two his junior,

and not admit some degree of tenderness towards her in big feelings. The

circumstances were sufficient to try the constancy of the most faithful

swain that ever lived. Then, it must be remembered that I had never

professed love to Lucy--was not at all aware that she entertained any

other sentiment towards me than that she entertained towards Rupert;

whereas Emily--but I will not prove myself a coxcomb on paper, whatever

I might have been, at the moment, in my own imagination.

Next day, at the appointed hour, I had the happiness to receive my old

passengers. It struck me that Talcott was as much gratified as I was

myself; for he, too, had both pleasure and improvement in Emily Morton's

society. It has often been said that the English East-India ships are

noted for quarrelling and making love. The quarrels may be accounted for

on the same principle as the love-making, viz., propinquity; the same

proximity producing hostility in whose sterner natures, that, in others

of a gentler cast, produces its opposite feeling. We sailed, and it is

scarcely necessary to tell the reader how much the tedium of so long a

voyage, and the monotony of a sea-voyage, was relieved by the graces

and gentle intercourse of our upper cabin. The other apartment being so

crowded and hot, I passed most of my time in the poop, which was both

light and airy. Here I generally found the father and daughter, though

often the latter alone. I played reasonably well on the flute and

violin, and had learned to accompany Emily on her piano, which, it will

be remembered, Mons. Le Compte had caused to be transferred from the

Bombay ship to his own vessel, and which had subsequently been saved

from the wreck.

Talcott played also on the flute, far better than I did myself; and we

frequently made a trio, producing very respectable sea-music--better,

indeed, than Neptune often got for his smiles. In this manner, then,

we travelled our long road, sometimes contending with head-winds and

cross-seas, sometimes becalmed, and sometimes slipping along at a rate

that rendered everybody contented and happy.

In passing the Straits of Sunda, I related to Major Merton and Emily the

incidents of the John's affair with the proas, and her subsequent loss

on the island of Madagascar; and was rewarded by the interest they

took in the tale. We all spoke of Marble, as indeed we often did, and

expressed our regrets at his absence. The fate of my old shipmate was

frequently discussed among us, there being a great diversity of opinion

on the subject. As for the Major, he thought poor Marble must be lost

at sea, for he did not perceive how any one man could manage a boat all

alone by himself. Talcott, who had juster notions of what a seaman could

do, was of opinion that our late commander had run to leeward, in the

hope of finding some inhabited island, preferring the association of

even cannibals, when it came to the trying moment, to total solitude.

I thought he had gone to windward, the boat being so well equipped for

that service, and that Marble was in the expectation of falling in with

some of the whalers, who were known to be cruising in certain latitudes.

I was greatly struck, however, by a remark made by Emily, on the evening

of the very day when we passed the Straits of Sunda.

“Should the truth be ever known, gentlemen,” she said, “I am of opinion

it will be found that poor Mr. Marble only left the island to escape

from your importunities, and returned to it after the ship disappeared;

and that he is there at this moment, enjoying all the happiness of a

hermit.”

This might be true, and from that hour the thought would occasionally

recur to my mind. As I looked forward to passing at least several more

years at sea, I secretly determined to ascertain the fact for myself,

should occasion ever offer. In the mean time, the Crisis had reached a

part of the ocean where, in those days, it was incumbent on those who

had the charge of a ship to keep a vigilant look-out for enemies. It

seems we were not fated to run the gauntlet of these pirates entirely

unharmed.

Early on the following morning, I was awoke by Talcott's giving me a

hearty shake of the shoulder.

“Turn out at once, Captain Wallingford,” cried my mate, “the rascals are

closing around us like crows about a carcase. As bad luck will have it,

we have neither room nor breeze, to spare. Everything looks like a busy

morning for us, sir.”

In just three minutes from that moment, I was on deck, where all hands

were soon collected, the men tumbling up, with their jackets in their

hands. Major Merton was already on the poop, surveying the scene with a

glass of his own; while the two mates were clearing away the guns,

and getting the ship in a state to make a suitable defence. To me, the

situation was altogether novel. I had been six times in the presence of

enemies before, and twice as commander; but never under circumstances

that called so imperiously for seamanship and good conduct. The ocean

seemed covered with enemies, Major Merton declaring that he could count

no less than twenty-eight proas, all full of men, and some of them armed

with artillery. These chaps were ahead, astern, to windward, and to

leeward; and, what was worse, they had just wind enough to suit their

purposes, there being about a five-knot breeze. It was evident that

the craft acted in concert, and that they were desperately bent on

our capture, having closed around us in this manner in the night.

Nevertheless, we were a warm ship for a merchantman; and not a man in

the Crisis betrayed any feeling that indicated any other desire than a

wish to resist to the last. As for Neb, the fellow was in a broad grin,

the whole time; he considered the affair as a bit of fun. Yet this negro

was afraid to visit certain places about the farm in the dark, and could

not have been induced to cross a church-yard alone, under a bright sun,

I feel well persuaded. He was the oddest mixture of superstitious dread

and lion-hearted courage, I ever met with in my life.

It was still early, when the proas were near enough to commence serious

operations. This they did, by a nearly simultaneous discharge of about a

dozen guns, principally sixes, that they carried mounted in their bows.

The shot came whistling in among our spars and rigging, literally from

every direction, and three struck, though they were not of a size to do

any serious injury. Our people were at quarters, having managed to man

both batteries, though it left scarcely any one to look after the braces

and rigging, and none but the officers with small-arms.

Mr. Merton must have felt that he and his daughter's liberty, if not

their lives, were in the keeping of a very youthful commander; still,

his military habits of subordination were so strong, he did not venture

even a suggestion. I had my own plan, and was just of an age to think

it derogatory to my rank, to ask advice of any one. The proas were

strongest ahead and on both bows, where they were collecting to the

number of near twenty, evidently with the intention of boarding, should

an opportunity offer; while, astern, and on our quarter, they were much

fewer, and far more scattered. The reason of all this was apparent by

our course, the pirates naturally supposing we should continue to stand

on.

Orders were given to haul up the mainsail and to man the spanker-brails.

The men were taken from the starboard battery, exclusively, to perform

this work. When all was ready, the helm was put up, and the ship was

brought as short round on her heel, as possible, hauling up, on an

easy bowline, on the other tack. In coming round, we delivered all our

larboard guns among the crowd of enemies, well crammed with grape; and

the distance being just right for scattering, this broadside was not

without effect. As soon as braced up, on the other tack, we opened

starboard and larboard, on such of the chaps as came within range;

clearing our way as we went. The headmost proas all came round in chase;

but, being from half a mile to a mile astern, we had time to open a way

out of the circle, and to drive all the proas who were now ahead of

us, to take refuge among the crowd of their fellows. The manoeuvre was

handsomely executed; and, in twenty minutes we ceased firing, having all

our enemies to the westward of us, and in one group: this was an immense

advantage, as it enabled us to fight with a single broadside, prevented

our being raked, and rendered our own fire more destructive, by exposing

to it a more concentrated, and, at the same time, a larger object. I

ought to have said before, that the wind was at the southward.

The Crisis now tacked, setting the courses and royals. The ship lay up

well, and the proas having collected around their admiral, there was a

prospect of her passing to windward of everything. Six of the fellows,

however, seemed determined to prevent this, by hauling close on a wind,

and attempting to cross our bows, firing as they did so. The ship stood

on, apparently as if to intercept them; when, finding ourselves near

enough, we kept away about three points, and swept directly down in the

very centre of the main body of the proas. As this was done, the enemy,

taken by surprise, cleared a way for us, and we passed the whole of

them, delivering grape and canister, as fast as we could deal it out. In

the height of the affair, and the thickest of the smoke, three or four

of the proas were seen quite near us, attempting to close; but I did not

think it necessary to call the people from the guns, which were worked

with great quickness, and did heavy execution. I fancy the pirates found

it hotter than they liked, for they did not keep on with us; though our

lofty sails gave us an advantage, and would have enabled us to leave

them, had they pursued a different course. As it was, we were clear of

them, in about five minutes; and the smoke beginning to rise, we soon

got a view of what had been done in that brief space. In order to

increase our distance, however, we still kept away, running pretty fast

through the water.

By the confusion which prevailed among the pirates, the rascals had been

well peppered. One had actually sunk, and five or six were round the

spot, endeavouring to pick up the crew. Three more had suffered in

their spars, and the movements indicated that all had enough. As soon as

satisfied of this, I hauled the ship up to her course, and we continued

to leave the cluster of boats, which remained around the spot where

their consort had gone down. Those of the fellows to windward, however,

did not seem disposed to give it up, but followed us for two hours, by

which time the rest of their flotilla were hull down. Believing there

was now plenty of room, I tacked towards these persevering gentry, when

they went about like tops, and hauled off sharp on a wind. We tacked

once more to our course, and were followed no further.

The captain of a pepper ship afterwards told me, that our assailants

lost forty-seven men, mostly killed, or died of their hurts, and that

he had understood that the same officer commanded the Crisis that had

commanded the “John,” in _her_ affair, near the same spot. We had some

rigging cut, a few of our spars slightly injured, and two men hurt, one

of whom happened to be Neb. The man most hurt died before we reached

the Cape, but more from the want of surgical assistance, than from the

original character of his wound. As for Neb, he went to duty before we

reached St. Helena. For my part, I was surprised one of the proas did

not get down his throat, his grin being wide enough, during the whole

affair, to admit of the passage of a two-decker.

We went into the island, as had been agreed, but no ship offering and

none being expected soon, it became necessary for my passengers to

continue on with us to New York. Emily had behaved uncommonly well in

the brush with the pirates, and everybody was glad to keep her in the

ship. The men swore she brought good luck, forgetting that the poor girl

must have met with much ill-luck, in order to be in the situation in

which she was actually placed.

Nothing occurred on the passage from St. Helena to New York, worthy of

being specially recorded. It was rather long, but I cannot say it was

unpleasant. At length our reckoning told us to look out for land. The

Major and Emily were on deck, all expectation, and ere long we heard the

welcome cry. A hazy cloud was just visible on our lee-bow. It grew more

and more dense and distinct, until it showed the hues and furrows of a

mountain-side. The low point of the Hook, and the higher land beyond,

then came in view. We glided past the light, doubled the Spit, and got

into the upper bay, just an hour before the sun of a beautiful day in

June was setting. This was in the year of our Lord 1802.

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