----“A horseman's coat shall hide
thy taper shape and comeliness of side:
And with a bolder stride and looser air,
Mingled with men, a man thou must appear.”
_Prior_.
When the whale-boat obtained the position we have described, the young
lieutenant, who, in consequence of commanding a schooner, was usually
addressed by the title of captain, stepped on the rocks, followed by the
youthful midshipman, who had quitted the barge to aid in the hazardous
duty of their expedition.
“This is, at best, but a Jacob's ladder we have to climb,” said
Barnstable, casting his eyes upward at the difficult ascent, “and it's
by no means certain that we shall be well received, when we get up, even
though we should reach the top.”
“We are under the guns of the frigate,” returned the boy; “and you
remember, sir, three oar-blades and a pistol, repeated from the barge,
will draw her fire.”
“Yes, on our own heads. Boy, never be so foolish as to trust a long
shot. It makes a great smoke and some noise, but it's a terrible
uncertain manner of throwing old iron about. In such a business as this,
I would sooner trust Tom Coffin and his harpoon to back me, than the
best broadside that ever rattled out of the three decks of a ninety-gun
ship. Come, gather your limbs together, and try if you can walk on terra
firma, Master Coffin.”
The seaman who was addressed by this dire appellation arose slowly from
the place where he was stationed as cockswain of the boat, and seemed to
ascend high in air by the gradual evolution of numberless folds in his
body. When erect, he stood nearly six feet and as many inches in his
shoes, though, when elevated in his perpendicular attitude, there was a
forward inclination about his head and shoulders that appeared to be the
consequence of habitual confinement in limited lodgings. His whole frame
was destitute of the rounded outlines of a well-formed man, though
his enormous hands furnished a display of bones and sinews which gave
indication of gigantic strength. On his head he wore a little, low,
brown hat of wool, with an arched top, that threw an expression
of peculiar solemnity and hardness over his hard visage, the sharp
prominent features of which were completely encircled by a set of black
whiskers that began to be grizzled a little with age. One of his hands
grasped, with a sort of instinct, the staff of a bright harpoon, the
lower end of which he placed firmly on the rock, as, in obedience to the
order of his commander, he left the place where, considering his vast
dimensions, he had been established in an incredibly small space.
As soon as Captain Barnstable received this addition to his strength, he
gave a few precautionary orders to the men in the boat, and proceeded
to the difficult task of ascending the rocks. Notwithstanding the great
daring and personal agility of Barnstable, he would have been completely
baffled in this attempt, but for the assistance he occasionally received
from his cockswain, whose prodigious strength and great length of limbs
enabled him to make exertions which it would have been useless for
most men to attempt. When within a few feet of the summit, they availed
themselves of a projecting rock to pause for consultation and breath,
both of which seemed necessary for their further movements.
“This will be but a bad place for a retreat, if we should happen to fall
in with enemies,” said Barnstable. “Where are we to look for this pilot,
Mr. Merry, or how are we to know him; and what certainty have you that
he will not betray us?”
“The question you are to put to him is written on this bit of paper,”
returned the boy, as he handed the other the word of recognition; “we
made the signal on the point of the rock at yon headland, but, as he
must have seen our boat, he will follow us to this place. As to his
betraying us, he seems to have the confidence of Captain Munson, who has
kept a bright lookout for him ever since we made the land.”
“Ay,” muttered the lieutenant, “and I shall have a bright lookout kept
on him now we are _on_ the land. I like not this business of hugging the
shore so closely, nor have I much faith in any traitor. What think you
of it, Master Coffin?”
The hardy old seaman, thus addressed, turned his grave visage on his
commander, and replied with a becoming gravity:
“Give me a plenty of sea-room, and good canvas, where there is no
occasion for pilots at all, sir. For my part, I was born on board a
chebacco-man, and never could see the use of more land than now and then
a small island to raise a few vegetables, and to dry your fish--I'm sure
the sight of it always makes me feel uncomfortable, unless we have the
wind dead off shore.”
“Ah! Tom, you are a sensible fellow,” said Barnstable, with an air half
comic, half serious. “But we must be moving; the sun is just touching
those clouds to seaward, and God keep us from riding out this night at
anchor in such a place as this.”
Laying his hand on a projection of the rock above him, Barnstable swung
himself forward, and following this movement with a desperate leap
or two, he stood at once on the brow of the cliff. His cockswain very
deliberately raised the midshipman after his officer, and proceeding
with more caution but less exertion, he soon placed himself by his side.
When they reached the level land that lay above the cliffs and began to
inquire, with curious and wary eyes, into the surrounding scenery,
the adventurers discovered a cultivated country, divided in the usual
manner, by hedges and walls. Only one habitation for man, however, and
that a small dilapidated cottage, stood within a mile of them, most of
the dwellings being placed as far as convenience would permit from the
fogs and damps of the ocean.
“Here seems to be neither anything to apprehend, nor the object of
our search,” said Barnstable, when he had taken the whole view in his
survey: “I fear we have landed to no purpose, Mr. Merry. What say you,
long Tom; see you what we want?”
“I see no pilot, sir,” returned the cockswain; “but it's an ill wind
that blows luck to nobody; there is a mouthful of fresh meat stowed away
under that row of bushes, that would make a double ration to all hands
in the Ariel.”
The midshipman laughed, as he pointed out to Barnstable the object
of the cockswain's solicitude, which proved to be a fat ox, quietly
ruminating under a hedge near them.
“There's many a hungry fellow aboard of us,” said the boy, merrily,
“who would be glad to second long Tom's motion, if the time and business
would permit us to slay the animal.”
“It is but a lubber's blow, Mr. Merry,” returned the cockswain, without
a muscle of his hard face yielding, as he struck the end of his harpoon
violently against the earth, and then made a motion toward poising the
weapon; “let Captain Barnstable but say the word, and I'll drive the
iron through him to the quick; I've sent it to the seizing in many a
whale, that hadn't a jacket of such blubber as that fellow wears.”
“Pshaw! you are not on a whaling-voyage, where everything that offers is
game,” said Barnstable, turning himself pettishly away from the beast,
as if he distrusted his own forbearance; “but stand fast! I see some one
approaching behind the hedge. Look to your arms, Mr. Merry,--the first
thing we hear may be a shot.”
“Not from that cruiser,” cried the thoughtless lad; “he is a younker,
like myself, and would hardly dare run down upon such a formidable force
as we muster.”
“You say true, boy,” returned Barnstable, relinquishing the grasp he
held on his pistol. “He comes on with caution, as if afraid. He is
small, and is in drab, though I should hardly call it a pea-jacket--and
yet he may be our man. Stand you both here, while I go and hail him.”
As Barnstable walked rapidly towards the hedge, that in part concealed
the stranger, the latter stopped suddenly, and seemed to be in doubt
whether to advance or to retreat. Before he had decided on either, the
active sailor was within a few feet of him.
“Pray, sir,” said Barnstable, “what water have we in this bay?”
The slight form of the stranger started, with an extraordinary emotion,
at this question, and he shrunk aside involuntarily, as if to conceal
his features, before he answered, in a voice that was barely audible:
“I should think it would be the water of the German Ocean.”
“Indeed! you must have passed no small part of your short life in the
study of geography, to be so well informed,” returned the lieutenant;
“perhaps, sir, your cunning is also equal to telling me how long we
shall sojourn together, if I make you a prisoner, in order to enjoy the
benefit of your wit?”
To this alarming intimation, the youth who was addressed made no reply;
but as he averted his face, and concealed it with both his hands, the
offended seaman, believing that a salutary impression had been made upon
the fears of his auditor, was about to proceed with his interrogatories.
The singular agitation of the stranger's frame, however, caused the
lieutenant to continue silent a few moments longer, when, to his
utter amazement, he discovered that what he had mistaken for alarm was
produced by an endeavor, on the part of the youth, to suppress a violent
fit of laughter.
“Now, by all the whales in the sea,” cried Barnstable, “but you are
merry out of season, young gentleman. It's quite bad enough to be
ordered to anchor in such a bay as this with a storm brewing before
my eyes, without landing to be laughed at by a stripling who has not
strength to carry a beard if he had one, when I ought to be getting an
offing for the safety of both body and soul. But I'll know more of you
and your jokes, if I take you into my own mess, and am giggled out of my
sleep for the rest of the cruise.”
As the commander of the schooner concluded, he approached the stranger,
with an air of offering some violence, but the other shrank back from
his extended arm, and exclaimed, with a voice in which real terror had
gotten the better of mirth:
“Barnstable! dear Barnstable! would you harm me?”
The sailor recoiled several feet, at this unexpected appeal, and rubbing
his eyes, he threw the cap from his head, before he cried:
“What do I hear! and what do I see! There lies the Ariel--and yonder is
the frigate. Can this be Katherine Plowden!”
His doubts, if any doubts remained, were soon removed, for the stranger
sank on the bank at her side, in an attitude in which female bashfulness
was beautifully contrasted with her attire, and gave vent to her mirth
in an uncontrollable burst of merriment.
From that moment, all thoughts of his duty, and the pilot, or even of
the Ariel, appeared to be banished from the mind of the seaman, who
sprang to her side, and joined in her mirth, though he hardly knew why
or wherefore.
When the diverted girl had in some degree recovered her composure, she
turned to her companion, who had sat good-naturedly by her side, content
to be laughed at, and said:
“But this is not only silly, but cruel to others. I owe you an
explanation of my unexpected appearance, and perhaps, also, of my
extraordinary attire.”
“I can anticipate everything,” cried Barnstable; “you heard that we
were on the coast, and have flown to redeem the promises you made me in
America. But I ask no more; the chaplain of the frigate--”
“May preach as usual, and to as little purpose,” interrupted the
disguised female; “but no nuptial benediction shall be pronounced over
me, until I have effected the object of this hazardous experiment. You
are not usually selfish, Barnstable; would you have me forgetful of the
happiness of others?”
“Of whom do you speak?”
“My poor, my devoted cousin. I heard that two vessels answering the
description of the frigate and the Ariel were seen hovering on the
coast, and I determined at once to have a communication with you. I
have followed your movements for a week, in this dress, but have been
unsuccessful till now. To-day I observed you to approach nearer to
the shore than usual, and happily, by being adventurous, I have been
successful.”
“Ay, God knows we are near enough to the land! But does Captain Munson
know of your wish to get on board his ship?”
“Certainly not--none know of it but yourself. I thought that if Griffith
and you could learn our situation, you might be tempted to hazard a
little to redeem us from our thraldom. In this paper I have prepared
such an account as will, I trust, excite all your chivalry, and by which
you may govern your movements.”
“Our movements!” interrupted Barnstable. “You will pilot us in person.”
“Then there's two of them!” said a hoarse voice near them.
The alarmed female shrieked as she recovered her feet, but she still
adhered, with instinctive dependence, to the side of her lover.
Barnstable, who recognized the tones of his cockswain, bent an angry
brow on the sober visage that was peering at them above the hedge, and
demanded the meaning of the interruption.
“Seeing you were hull down, sir, and not knowing but the chase might
lead you ashore, Mr. Merry thought it best to have a lookout kept. I
told him that you were overhauling the mail-bags of the messenger for
the news, but as he was an officer, sir, and I nothing but a common
hand, I did as he ordered.”
“Return, sir, where I commanded you to remain,” said Barnstable, “and
desire Mr. Merry to wait my pleasure.”
The cockswain gave the usual reply of an obedient seaman; but before
he left the hedge, he stretched out one of his brawny arms towards the
ocean, and said, in tones of solemnity suited to his apprehensions and
character:
“I showed you how to knot a reef-point, and pass a gasket, Captain
Barnstable, nor do I believe you could even take two half-hitches when
you first came aboard of the Spalmacitty. These be things that a man
is soon expart in, but it takes the time of his nat'ral life to larn to
know the weather. There be streaked wind-galls in the offing, that speak
as plainly to all that see them, and know God's language in the clouds,
as ever you spoke through a trumpet, to shorten sail; besides, sir,
don't you hear the sea moaning as if it knew the hour was at hand when
it was to wake up from its sleep!”
“Ay, Tom,” returned his officer, walking to the edge of the cliffs,
and throwing a seaman's glance at the gloomy ocean, “'tis a threatening
night indeed; but this pilot must be had--and--”
“Is that the man?” interrupted the cockswain, pointing toward a man
who was standing not far from them, an attentive observer of their
proceedings, the same time that he was narrowly watched himself by the
young midshipman. “God send that he knows his trade well, for the bottom
of a ship will need eyes to find its road out of this wild anchorage.”
“That must indeed be the man!” exclaimed Barnstable, at once recalled to
his duty. He then held a short dialogue with his female companion, whom
he left concealed by the hedge, and proceeded to address the stranger.
When near enough to be heard, the commander of the schooner demanded:
“What water have you in this bay?”
The stranger, who seemed to expect this question, answered without the
least hesitation:
“Enough to take all out in safety, who have entered with confidence.”
“You are the man I seek,” cried Barnstable; “are you ready to go off?”
“Both ready and willing,” returned the pilot, “and there is need of
haste. I would give the best hundred guineas that ever were coined for
two hours more use of that sun which has left us, or for even the time
of this fading twilight.”
“Think you our situation so bad?” said the lieutenant. “Follow this
gentleman to the boat then; I will join you by the time you can descend
the cliffs. I believe I can prevail on another hand to go off with us.”
“Time is more precious now than any number of hands,” said the pilot,
throwing a glance of impatience from under his lowering brows, “and the
consequences of delay must be visited on those who occasion it.”
“And, sir, I will meet the consequences with those who have a right to
inquire into my conduct,” said Barnstable, haughtily.
With this warning and retort they separated; the young officer retracing
his steps impatiently toward his mistress, muttering his indignation in
suppressed execrations, and the pilot, drawing the leathern belt of his
pea-jacket mechanically around his body, as he followed the midshipman
and cockswain to their boat, in moody silence.
Barnstable found the disguised female who had announced herself as
Katherine Plowden, awaiting his return, with intense anxiety depicted
on every feature of her intelligent countenance. As he felt all the
responsibility of his situation, notwithstanding his cool reply to the
pilot, the young man hastily drew an arm of the apparent boy, forgetful
of her disguise, through his own, and led her forward.
“Come, Katherine,” he said, “the time urges to be prompt.”
“What pressing necessity is there for immediate departure?” she
inquired, checking his movements by withdrawing herself from his side.
“You heard the ominous prognostic of my cockswain on the weather, and
I am forced to add my own testimony to his opinion. 'Tis a crazy night
that threatens us, though I cannot repent of coming into the bay, since
it has led to this interview.”
“God forbid that we should either of us have cause to repent of it,”
said Katherine, the paleness of anxiety chasing away the rich bloom
that had mantled the animated face of the brunette. “But you have the
paper--follow its directions, and come to our rescue; you will find us
willing captives, if Griffith and yourself are our conquerors.”
“What mean you, Katherine!” exclaimed her lover; “you at least are now
in safety--'twould be madness to tempt your fate again. My vessel
can and shall protect you, until your cousin is redeemed; and then,
remember, I have a claim on you for life.”
“And how would you dispose of me in the interval?” said the young
maiden, retreating slowly from his advances.
“In the Ariel--by heaven, you shall be her commander; I will bear that
rank only in name.”
“I thank you, thank you, Barnstable, but distrust my abilities to fill
such a station,” she said, laughing, though the color that again crossed
her youthful features was like the glow of a summer's sunset, and even
her mirthful eyes seemed to reflect their tints. “Do not mistake me,
saucy one. If I have done more than my sex will warrant, remember it was
through a holy motive, and if I have more than a woman's enterprise, it
must be----”
“To lift you above the weakness of your sex,” he cried, “and to enable
you to show your noble confidence in me.”
“To fit me for, and to keep me worthy of being one day your wife.” As
she uttered these words she turned and disappeared, with a rapidity that
eluded his attempts to detain her, behind an angle of the hedge, that
was near them. For a moment, Barnstable remained motionless, through
surprise, and when he sprang forward in pursuit, he was able only to
catch a glimpse of her light form, in the gloom of the evening, as she
again vanished in a little thicket at some distance.
Barnstable was about to pursue, when the air lighted with a sudden
flash, and the bellowing report of a cannon rolled along the cliffs, and
was echoed among the hills far inland.
“Ay, grumble away, old dotard!” the disappointed young sailor muttered
to himself, while he reluctantly obeyed the signal; “you are in as great
a hurry to get out of your danger as you were to run into it.”
The quick reports of three muskets from the barge beneath where he stood
urged him to quicken his pace, and as he threw himself carelessly down
the rugged and dangerous passes of the cliffs, his experienced eye
beheld the well-known lights displayed from the frigate, which commanded
“the recall of all her boats.”