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GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE.
VOL. XXXII. PHILADELPHIA, MARCH, 1848. No. 3.
THE CRUISE OF THE GENTILE.
BY FRANK BYRNE.
CHAPTER I.
_In which the reader is introduced to several of the dramatis personae._
On the evening of the 25th of March, in the year of our Lord one
thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine, the ship Gentile, of Boston,
lay at anchor in the harbor of Valetta.
It is quite proper, gentle reader, that, as it is with this ship and
her crew that you will chiefly have to do in the following yarn, they
should be severally and particularly introduced to your notice.
To begin, then. Imagine yourself standing on the parapet of St. Elmo,
about thirty minutes past five o'clock on the evening above mentioned;
the Gentile lies but little more than a cable's length from the shore,
so that you can almost look down upon her decks. You perceive that she
is a handsome craft of some six or seven hundred tons burthen,
standing high out of water, in ballast trim, with a black hull, bright
waist, and wales painted white. Her bows flare very much, and are
sharp and symmetrical; the cut-water stretches, with a graceful curve,
far out beyond them toward the long sweeping martingal, and is
surmounted by a gilt scroll, or, as the sailors call it, a
fiddle-head. The black stern is ornamented by a group of white figures
in bas relief, which give a lively air to the otherwise sombre and
vacant expression, and beneath the cabin-windows is painted the name
of the ship, and her port of register. The lower masts of this vessel
are short and stout, the top-masts are of great height, the extreme
points of the fore and mizzen-royal poles, are adorned with gilt
balls, and over all, at the truck of the main sky-sail pole, floats a
handsome red burgee, upon which a large G is visible. There are no
yards across but the lower and topsail-yards, which are very long and
heavy, precisely squared, and to which the sails are furled in an
exceeding neat and seaman-like manner. The rigging is universally taut
and trim; and it is easy to perceive that the officers of the Gentile
understand their business. The swinging-boom is rigged out, and
fastened thereto, by their painters, a pair of boats, a yawl and gig,
float lovingly side by side; and instead of the usual ladder at the
side, a handy flight of accommodation steps lead from the water-line
to the gangway.
Now, dear reader, leaving the battlements of St. Elmo, you alight upon
the deck of our ship, which you find to be white and clean, and, as
seamen say, sheer--that is to say, without break, poop, or
hurricane-house--forming on each side of the line of masts a smooth,
unencumbered plane the entire length of the deck, inclining with a
gentle curve from the bow and stern toward the waist. The bulwarks are
high, and are surmounted by a paneled monkey-rail; the belaying-pins
in the plank-shear are of lignum-vitae and mahogany, and upon them the
rigging is laid up in accurate and graceful coils. The balustrade
around the cabin companion-way and sky-light is made of polished
brass, the wheel is inlaid with brass, and the capstan-head, the
gangway-stanchions, and bucket-hoops are of the same glittering metal.
Forward of the main hatchway the long-boat stands in its chocks,
covered over with a roof, and a good-natured looking cow, whose stable
is thus contrived, protrudes her head from a window, chews her cud
with as much composure as if standing under the lee of a Yankee
barn-yard wall, and watches, apparently, a group of sailors, who,
seated in the forward waist around their kids and pans, are enjoying
their coarse but plentiful and wholesome evening meal. A huge
Newfoundland dog sits upon his haunches near this circle, his eyes
eagerly watching for a morsel to be thrown him, the which, when
happening, his jaws close with a sudden snap, and are instantly agape
for more. A green and gold parrot also wanders about this knot of men,
sometimes nibbling the crumbs offered it, and anon breaking forth into
expressions which, from their tone, evince no great respect for some
of the commandments in the Decalogue. Between the long-boat and the
fore-hatch is the galley, where the "Doctor" (as the cook is
universally called in the merchant service) is busily employed in
dishing up a steaming supper, prepared for the cabin mess; the
steward, a genteel-looking mulatto, dressed in a white apron, stands
waiting at the galley-door, ready to receive the aforementioned
supper, whensoever it may be ready, and to convey it to the cabin.
Turning aft, you perceive a young man pacing the quarter-deck, and
whistling, as he walks, a lively air from La Bayadere. He is dressed
neatly in a blue pilot-cloth pea-jacket, well-shaped trowsers,
neat-fitting boots, and a Mahon cap, with gilt buttons. This gentleman
is Mr. Langley. His father is a messenger in the Atlas Bank, of
Boston, and Mr. Langley, jr. invariably directs his communications to
his parent with the name of that corporation somewhere very legibly
inscribed on the back of the letter. He is an apprentice to the ship,
but being a smart, handy fellow, and a tolerable seaman, he was deemed
worthy of promotion, and as his owner could find no second mate's
berth vacant in any of his vessels, the Gentile has rejoiced for the
last twelve months in the possession of a third mate in the person of
Mr. Langley. He is about twenty years of age, and would be a sensible
fellow, were it not for a great taste for mischief, romance, theatres,
cheap jewelry, and tight boots. He quotes poetry on the weather
yard-arm, to the great dissatisfaction of Mr. Brewster, (to whom you
will shortly be introduced,) who often confidentially assures the
skipper that the third mate would have turned out a natural fool if
his parents had not providentially sent him to sea.
But while you have been making the acquaintance of Mr. Langley, the
steward has brought aft the dishes containing the cabin supper. A
savory smell issues from the open sky-light, through which also
ascends a ruddy gleam of light, the sound of cheerful voices, and the
clatter of dishes. After the lapse of a few minutes the turns of Mr.
Langley in pacing the deck grow shorter, and at last, ceasing to
whistle and beginning to mutter, he walks up to the sky-light and
looks down into the cabin below. Gentle reader, place yourself by his
side, and now attend as closely as the favored student did to
Asmodeus.
The fine-looking seaman reclining upon the cushioned transom, picking
his teeth while he scans the columns of a late number of the Liverpool
Mercury, is Captain Smith, the skipper, a regular-built, true-blue,
Yankee ship-master. Though his short black curls are thickly sprinkled
with gray, he has not yet seen forty years; but the winds and suns of
every zone have left their indelible traces upon him. He is an
intelligent, well-informed man, though self-taught, well versed in the
science of trade, and is a very energetic and efficient officer.
The tall gentleman, just folding his doily, is the mate of the ship,
Mr. Stewart. You would hardly suppose him to be a sailor at the first
glance; and yet he is a perfect specimen of what an officer in the
merchant service should be, notwithstanding his fashionably-cut
broadcloth coat, white vest, black gaiter-pants, and jeweled fingers.
He is dressed for the theatre. Mr. Stewart is a graduate of Harvard,
and at first went to sea to recover the health which had been somewhat
impaired by hard study; but becoming charmed with the profession, he
has followed it ever since, and says that it is the most manly
vocation in the world. He is a great favorite with the owner of the
ship; and when he is at Boston, always resides with him. He will
command a ship himself after this voyage. His age is twenty-eight. Mr.
Stewart is a handsome man, a polite gentleman, an accomplished
scholar, a thorough seamen, a strict but kind officer, a most
companionable shipmate, and, in one word--a fine fellow.
Next comes Mr. Brewster, the second mate. That is he devouring those
huge slices of cold beef with so much gusto, while Langley mutters,
"Will he never have done!" He with the blue jacket, bedizzened so
plentifully with small pearl buttons, the calico shirt, and
fancifully-knotted black silk cravat around his brawny neck.
Mr. Micah Brewster hails from Truro, Cape Cod, and, like all Capemen,
is a Yankee sailor, every inch of him. He commenced going to sea when
only twelve years old, by shipping for a four months' trip in a
banker; and in the space of fourteen years, which have since elapsed,
he has not been on shore as many months. He is complete in every
particular of seamanship, and is, besides, a tolerably scientific
navigator. He knows the color and taste of the water all along shore
from Cape Farewell to the Horn, and can tell the latitude and
longitude of any place on the chart without consulting it. Bowditch's
Epitome, and Blunt's Coast Pilot, seem to him the only books in the
world worth consulting, though I should, perhaps, except Marryatt's
novels and Tom Cringle's Log. But of matters connected with the shore
Mr. Brewster is as ignorant as a child unborn. He holds all landsmen
but ship-builders, owners, and riggers, in supreme contempt, and can
hardly conceive of the existence of happiness, in places so far inland
that the sea breeze does not blow. A severe and exacting officer is
he, but yet a favorite with the men--for he is always first in any
emergency or danger, his lion-like voice sounding loud above the roar
of the elements, cheering the crew to their duty, and setting the
example with his own hands. He is rather inclined to be irritable
toward those who have gained the quarter-deck by the way of the
cabin-windows, but, on the whole, I shall set him down in the list of
good fellows.
That swarthy, curl-pated youngster, in full gala dress for the
theatre, drawing on his gloves, and hurrying Mr. Stewart, is, dear
reader, your most humble, devoted, and obedient servant, Frank Byrne,
_alias_, myself, _alias_, the ship's cousin, _alias_, the son of the
ship's owner. Supposing, of course, that you believe in Mesmerism and
clairvoyance, I shall not stop to explain how I have been able to
point out the Gentile to you, while you were standing on the bastion
of St. Elmo, and I all the while in the cabin of the good ship,
dressing for the theatre, and eating my supper, but shall immediately
proceed to inform you how I came there, to welcome you on board, and
to wish you a pleasant cruise with us.
About two years ago, (I am speaking of the 25th of March, A. D. 1839,
in the present tense,) I succeeded in persuading my father to gratify
my predilection for the sea, by putting me on board of the Gentile,
under the particular care of Captain Smith, to try one voyage--so I
became the ship's cousin. Contrary to the predictions of my friends,
I returned determined to go again, and to become a sailor. Now a
ship's cousin's berth is not always an enviable one, notwithstanding
the consanguinity of its occupant to the planks beneath him, for he,
usually feeling the importance of the relationship, is hated by
officers and men, who annoy him in every possible way. But my case was
an exception to the general rule. Although at the first I was
intimately acquainted with each of the officers, I never presumed upon
it, but always did my duty cheerfully and respectfully, and tried hard
to learn to be a good seaman. As my father allowed me plenty of
spending money, I could well afford to be open-handed and generous to
my shipmates, fore and aft; and this good quality, in a seaman's
estimation, will cover a multitude of faults, and endears its
possessor to his heart. In fine, I became an immense favorite with all
hands; and even Mr. Brewster, who at first looked upon my advent on
board with an unfavorable eye, was forced to acknowledge that I no
more resembled a ship's cousin than a Methodist class-leader does a
midshipman.
Mr. Stewart and myself had always been great friends before I went to
sea. When I first came on board, Mr. Langley, who had been my
school-mate and crony, was, though one of the cabin mess, only an
apprentice, and had not yet received his brevet rank as third
mate--Mr. Stewart, of course, stood his own watch, and chose Langley
and myself as part of it. The mate generally kept us upon the
quarter-deck with him, and many were the cozy confabs we used to hold,
many the choice cigars we used to smoke upon that handy loafing-place,
the booby-hatch, many the pleasant yarns we used to spin while pacing
up and down the deck, or leaning against the rail of the companion. As
I have said, Mr. Stewart was a delightful watch-mate--and Bill Langley
and I used to love him dearly, and none the worse that he made us toe
the line of our duty. He always, however, appeared to prefer me to
Langley, and to admit me to more of his confidence. Since Bill's
promotion we had not seen so much of the mate, but still, during our
late tedious voyage from Calcutta, he had often come upon deck in our
watch, and hundreds of long miles of the Indian Ocean had been
shortened in the old way.
Gentle reader, you are as much acquainted with the Gentile, and the
quint who compose her cabin mess, as you could hope to be at one
interview.
CHAPTER II.
_News from Home._
Mr. Langley had just commenced his supper with a ravenous appetite,
stimulated by the tantalizing view of our previous gastronomic
performances, which he had had through the sky-light, the mate and
myself were on the point of going on deck to go ashore, the captain
had just lighted a second cigar, when Mr. Brewster, who had relieved
poor Langley in the charge of the deck, made his appearance at the
cabin door, bearing in his hands a large packet.
"She's in, sir!" he shouted, "she came to anchor in front of the
Lazaretto while we were at supper, and Bill here didn't see her. The
quarantine fellows brought this along. Bill, you must be a bloody
fool, to let a ship come right under our stern, and sail across the
bay, and not know nothing about it."
Langley, whose regards for the supper-table had drawn his attention
from the arrival of a ship which had been expected by us for more than
a week, and by whom we had anticipated the receipt of the packet the
skipper now held in his hands, Langley, I say, blushed, but said
nothing, and turned toward the captain, who, with trembling hands, was
cutting the twine which bound the precious bundle together.
Now our last letters from Boston had been written more than a year
before, had been read at Calcutta, since then we had sailed fifteen
thousand miles from Calcutta to Trieste, and from Trieste to Valetta,
and here we had been pulling at our anchor for three weeks, waiting
orders from my father by the ship which had just arrived; it is not
wonderful, therefore, that the group which surrounded Capt. Smith were
very pale, eager, anxious-looking men. How much we were to learn in
ten minutes time; what bitter tidings might be in store for us in that
little packet.
At last it is open, and newspapers and letters in rich profusion meet
our gaze; with a quick sleight the captain distributes them, sends a
half dozen to their owners in the forecastle by the steward, and then
ensues a silence broken only by the snapping of seals, and the
rattling of paper. Suddenly Mr. Stewart uttered an exclamation of
surprise, and looking up from my letter, I noticed the quick exchange
of significant glances between the captain and mate.
"You've found it out, then," said the skipper.
The mate nodded in reply, and gathering up his letters, retired
precipitately to his state-room.
At this juncture, Mr. Brewster, who had just finished the perusal of a
very square, stiff-looking epistle, gave vent to a prolonged whistle.
"Beats thunder, I swear!" said he, "if the old woman haint got spliced
again--and she's every month of fifty-six years old."
"That's nothing," cried Langley, "only think, father has left the
Atlas Bank, and is now Mr. Byrnes' book-keeper; and they talk of
shutting up the Tremont theatre, and Bob here says that Fanny Ellsler
is--"
"Avast there!" interrupted the skipper, "clap a stopper over all that,
and stand by to hear where we are bound to-morrow, or next day. Have
any of you found out yet?"
"No, sir," cried Langley and I in a breath, "Home, I hope."
"Not so soon," replied Captain Smith, "as soon as maybe we sail for
Matanzas de Cuba, to take aboard a sugar freight for the
Baltic--either Stockholm or Cronstadt; so that when we make
Boston-light it will be November, certain. How does that suit ye,
gentlemen?"
I was forced to muster all my stoicism to refrain from whimpering; Mr.
Langley gave utterance to a wish, which, if ever fulfilled, will
consign the cities of Cronstadt, Stockholm, and Matanzas to the same
fate which has rendered Sodom, Gomorrah, and Euphemia so celebrated.
Mr. Brewster alone seemed indifferent. That worthy gentleman snapped
his fingers, and averred that he didn't care a d--n where he went to.
"Besides," said he, "a trip up the Baltic is a beautiful summer's
work, and we shall get home in time for thanksgiving, if the governor
don't have it earlier than common."
"Matanzas!" inquired Langley; "isn't there where Mr. Stowe moved to,
captain?"
"Yes," replied the skipper, "he is Mr. Byrnes' correspondent there--"
"Egad, then, Frank, we shall see the girls, eh, old fellow!" and Mr.
Langley began to recover his serenity of mind.
"Beside all this," added the skipper, "Frank has a cousin in
Matanzas--a nun in the Ursuline Convent."
"So I have just found out," said I; "father bids me to be sure and see
her, if possible, and says that I must ask you about it. It is very
odd I never have heard of this before. By the bye, Bill, my boy, look
at this here!" and I displayed a draft on Mr. Stowe for $200.
At this moment Mr. Stewart's state-room door opened, and he appeared.
It was evident that he had heard bad news. His face was very grave,
and his manner forced.
"Frank," said he, "you must excuse my company to-night. Langley will
be glad to go with you; and as we sail so soon, I have a good deal to
do--"
"But," said I, hesitating, "may I inquire whether you have received
bad news from home?"
"On the contrary, very good--but don't ask any questions, Frank; be
off, it is very late to go now."
"Langley," said I, as we were supping at a _cafe_, after the closing
of the theatre, "isn't it odd about that new cousin of mine?"
"Ay,", replied my companion, "and it is odd about Stewart's actions
to-night; and it will be odd if I don't kiss Mary Stowe; and it will
be odd if you don't kiss Ellen; and it will be odd if I arn't made
second mate after we get home from this thundering long voyage; and,
finally, it will be most especially odd if we find all our boat's crew
sober when we get down to the quay."
Nothing so odd as that was the case; but after some little difficulty
we got on board, and Langley and myself retired to the state-room
which we held as tenants in common.
CHAPTER III.
_In which four thousand miles are gained._
We laid almost a week longer wind-bound. At last the skipper waxed
impatient, and one fine morning we got out our boats, and with the
help of the Pharsalia's boats and crew, we were slowly towed to sea.
Here we took a fine southwesterly breeze, and squared away before it.
Toward night we had the coast of Sicily close under our lee, and as
far away as the eye could reach, the snow-capped summit of AEtna,
ruddy in the light of the setting sun, rose against the clear blue of
the northern sky.
* * * * *
We had as fine a run to Gibralter as any seaman could wish; but after
passing the pillars of Hercules there was no more good weather beyond
for us until we crossed the tropic, which we did the 10th of May, in
longitude about sixty degrees, having experienced a constant
succession of strong southerly and westerly gales. But having passed
the tropic, we took a gentle breeze from the eastward, and with the
finest weather in the world, glided slowly along toward our destined
port.
I shall never forget the evening and night after the 15th of May. We
were then in the neighborhood of Turks Island, heading for the Caycos
Pass, and keeping a bright look-out for land. It was a most lovely
night, one, as Willis says, astray from Paradise; the moon was shining
down as it only does shine between the tropics, the sky clear and
cloudless, the mild breeze, just enough to fill our sails, pushing us
gently through the water, the sea as glassy as a mountain-lake, and
motionless, save the long, slight swell, scarcely perceptible to those
who for long weeks have been tossed by the tempestuous waves of the
stormy Atlantic. The sails of a distant ship were seen, far away to
the north, making the lovely scene less solitary; the only sounds
heard were the rippling at the bows, the low sough of the zephyr
through the rigging, the cheeping of blocks, as the sleepy helmsman
allowed the ship to vary in her course, the occasional splash of a
dolphin, and the flutter of a flying-fish in the air, as he winged his
short and glittering flight. The air was warm, fragrant, and
delicious, and the larboard watch of the tired crew of the Gentile,
after a boisterous passage of forty days from Gibralter, yielded to
its somnolent influence, and lay stretched about the forecastle and
waists, enjoying the voluptuous languor which overcomes men suddenly
emerging from a cold into a tropical climate.
Mr. Langley, myself, and the skipper's dog, reclined upon the
booby-hatch. The first having the responsibility of the deck contrived
to maintain a half upright position, and to keep one eye open, but the
other two, prostrate by each others' side, slumbered outright.
"What's the time, Bill?" I asked, at length, rousing myself, and
shaking off the embrace of Rover, who was loth to lose his bedfellow.
"'We take no note of time,'" spouted the third mate, drawing his watch
from his pocket. "For'ard, there! strike four bells, and relieve the
wheel. Keep your eye peeled, look-out; and mind, no caulking."
"Ay ay, sir," was the lazy response, and in a moment more the
_ting-ting_, _ting-ting_, of the ship's bell rang out on the silent
air, and proclaimed that the middle watch was half over, or, in
landsmen's lingo, that it was two o'clock, A. M.
"Lay along, Rover," I muttered, preparing for another snooze.
"Oh! avast that Frank; come, keep awake, and let's talk."
"Talk!" said I, "about what, pray?"
"Oh! I don't know," replied Bill. "I tell you what, Frank, if it
wasn't for being cock of the roost myself, I should wish that Stewart
headed this watch now. What fine times we used to have, eh?--but he
has altered as well as the times--how odd he has acted by spells ever
since we got that packet at Malta. I'm d--d if I don't believe he got
news of the loss of his sweetheart."
"He never had any that I know of," I rejoined, "but he certainly did
hear something, for he has changed in his manner, and the skipper and
he have long talks by themselves, and I heard Stewart tell him one day
that after all it would have been better to have left the ship at
Gibralter, and not gone the voyage."
"Did he, though!" cried Langley; "in that case I should have been
second mate--however, I'm glad he didn't quit."
"Thank you, Bill," said a voice behind us; and turning in some
confusion we beheld Mr. Stewart standing in the companion. "How is her
head?" he continued, asking the usual question, to allow us to recover
from our embarrassment.
"About west, sir," replied Langley.
"Well, as the wind freshens a little and is getting rather to the
nor'ard, you'd better give your larboard braces a pull or two, and
then put your course rather north of west to hit the Pass."
"Ay ay, sir," said the third mate. "For'ard, there, come aft here, and
round in on the larboard braces. Keep her up, Jack, about west
nor'west."
After the crew had complied with the orders of the officer they
retired forward, and we of the quarter-deck seated ourselves on the
booby-hatch.
"We were talking about you when you came on deck, sir," said I, after
a short silence.
"Ah! indeed," replied the mate smiling.
"Yes," said Langley, "we thought it was rather odd you hadn't been on
deck lately, to see whether we boys were not running away with the
ship in your watch. It has been deuced lonesome these dark blowy
nights along back. If you had been on deck to spin us a yarn it would
have been capital."
"Boys," said the mate, taking out his cigar-case, "I've a great mind
to spin you a yarn now."
"Oh! do, by all means," cried the third mate and the ship's cousin
together.
We lighted our cigars; the mate took a few puffs to get fairly under
way, and then began.
CHAPTER IV.
_The Mate's Yarn._
"I've told you about a great many days' works, boys, but there is one
leaf in my log-book of which you as yet know nothing. It is now about
six years since I was in this part of the world, for the first and
only time. I was then twenty-two, and was second mate, Frank, of your
father's ship, the John Cabot. Old Captain Hopkin's was master, and
our present skipper was mate. One fine July afternoon we let go our
anchor alongside of the Castle of San Severino, in Matanzas harbor. A
few days after our arrival I was in a billiard-room ashore, quietly
reading a newspaper, when one of the losing players, a Spaniard of a
most peculiarly unpleasant physiognomy, turned suddenly around with an
oath, and declared the rustling of the paper disturbed him. As several
gentlemen were reading in different parts of the room I did not
appropriate the remark to myself, though I thought he had intended it
for me. I paid no attention to him, however, until, just as I was
turning the sheet inside out, the Spaniard, irritated by another
stroke of ill luck, advanced to me, and demanded that I should either
lay the newspaper aside or quit the room. I very promptly declined to
do either, when he snatched the paper from my hands, and instantly
drew his sword. I was unarmed, with the exception of a good sized
whalebone cane, but my anger was so great that I at once sprung at the
scamp, who at the instant made a pass at me. I warded the thrust as
well as I could, but did not avoid getting nicely pricked in the left
shoulder; but, before my antagonist could recover himself, I gave him
such a wipe with my cane on his sword-arm that his wrist snapped, and
his sword dropped to the ground. Enraged at the sight of my own blood,
which now covered my clothes in front, I was not satisfied with this,
but applying my foot to his counter, two or three vigorous kicks
sufficed to send him sprawling into the street. Captain Hopkins
arrived just as the fracas was over, and instantly sent for a surgeon,
and in the meantime I received the congratulations of all present on
my victory. I learned that my man was a certain Don Carlos Alvarez, a
broken down hidalgo, who had formerly been the master of a piratical
schooner, at the time when Matanzas was the head-quarters of pirates,
before Commodore Porter in the Enterprise broke up the haunt. When the
surgeon arrived he pronounced my wound very slight, and a slip of
sticking-plaster and my arm in a sling was thought to be all that was
necessary. After Captain Hopkins and myself got on board that night,
he told me a story, the repetition of which may somewhat surprise you,
Frank. Do you remember of ever hearing that a sister of your father
married a Cubanos merchant, some thirty odd years ago?"
"I remember hearing of it when a child," I replied, "and father in his
last letter says that I have a cousin now in the nunnery at Matanzas.
I suppose she is a daughter of that sister."
"You are right," resumed the mate, sighing slightly. "Your grandfather
had only two children. When your father was but a small boy, the whole
family spent the winter in Havana, to recruit your grandmother's
health, while your grandfather collected some debts which were due
him. While there, a young Creole merchant, heavily concerned in the
slave-trade, became deeply enamored with your aunt, and solicited her
hand. The young lady herself was nothing loth, but the elders disliked
and opposed the match; the consequence was an elopement and private
marriage, at which your grandfather was so exceedingly incensed that
he disowned his daughter, and never afterward held any communication
with her. Your aunt had two children, and died some fifteen years ago.
Your father shortly after received this intelligence by means of a
letter from the son, and the correspondence thus begun was continued
in a very friendly manner. Senor Garcia, your uncle by marriage,
became concerned, in a private way, like many other Cubanos merchants,
in fitting out piratical craft, and one of his confidential captains
was this same Alvarez whom I so summarily ejected from the
billiard-room. Garcia died in 1830, leaving a large property to his
children, and consigning the guardianship of the younger, a girl, to
his friend Don Carlos Alvarez. The will provided that in case she
should marry any person, but an American, without her guardian's
consent, her fortune should revert to her guardian; and in the choice
of an American husband her brother's wishes were not to be
contravened. The reservation in favor of Americans was made at the
entreaty of the brother, who urged the memory of his mother as an
inducement. Now it so turned out that Don Carlos, though forty years
old, and as ugly as a sculpin, became enamored with the beauty and
fortune of his ward, and, hoping to win her, kept her rigidly secluded
from the society of every gentleman, but especially that of the
American residents. Pedro Garcia, the brother, whom Captain Hopkins
represented to be a fine, manly fellow, was, however, much opposed to
such a plan, and ardently desired that his sister should marry an
American, being convinced that this was the only way for her to get a
husband and save her fortune. 'If,' said Captain Hopkins, in
conclusion, 'some smart young Yankee could carry the girl off, it
would be no bad speculation. Ben, you had better try yourself, you
couldn't please Mr. Byrne better.'
"'Much obliged,' I replied, 'but Yankee girls suit my taste tolerably
well, much better than pirates' daughters, and I hope that I can
please my owner well enough by doing my duty aboard ship.'
"'Pshaw! she is not a pirate's daughter exactly; she's Mr. Byrne's
niece.'
"'For all that,' I answered, 'I should expect to find my throat cut
some fine morning.'
"'Well, well,' said the old skipper, 'I only wish that I was a young
man, for the girl is said to be as handsome as a mermaid, and as for
money, I s'pose she's worth devilish nigh upon two hundred thousand
dollars.'
"The next day but one was Sunday, so after dressing myself in my
go-ashore toggery, I went with the skipper to take another stroll in
the city. We dined at a _cafe_, and then hearing the cathedral bells
tolling for vespers, I concluded to leave the skipper to smoke and
snooze alone, and go and hear the performances. It was rather a warm
walk up the hill, and, upon arriving at the cathedral, I stopped
awhile in the cool airy porch to rest, brush the dust from my boots,
arrange my hair and neckcloth, and adjust my wounded arm in its sling
in the most interesting manner. Just as I had finished these nice
little preliminaries, a volante drove up to the door, which contained,
why, to be sure, only a woman, but yet the loveliest woman I have
ever seen in any part of the world. Yes, Bill, your little dancer at
Valetta ought not to be thought of the same day.
"Well, boys, I fell in love incontinently at first sight, and was
taken all aback, but inspired by a stiff glass of eau-de-vie which I
had taken with my pineapple after dinner, I forged alongside, before
the negro postillion, cased to his hips in jack-boots, could dismount,
and offered my hand to assist the lady to alight from the carriage.
She at first gave me a haughty stare, but finally putting one of the
two fairest hands in the world into my brown paw, she reached terra
firma safely.
"'Thank you, senor,' said she, with a low courtesy, after I had led
her into the church.
"'Entirely welcome, ma'am,' I replied, as my mother had taught me to
do upon like occasions, 'and the more welcome, as I perceive you speak
English so fluently, that you must be either an English woman or my
own countrywoman.'
"'I am a Cubanos, senor,' said the lady, with a smile, 'but my mother
was an American, and I learned the language in the nursery--but,
senor, again I thank you for your gallantry, and so _adios_.' She
dipped her finger in the holy-water vase, crossed herself, and then
looking at me from under her dark fringed eyelids with a most
bewildering glance, and a smile which displayed two dazzling rows of
pearls between her ruby lips, she glided into the church.
"'Who is your mistress?' cried I, turning to the negro postillion, but
that sable worthy could not understand my question. The most
expressive pantomimes were as unavailable as words, and so in despair
I turned again into the porch, and stood in a reverie. I was clearly a
fathom deep in love, and as my extreme height is but five feet eleven
and a half, that is equivalent to saying that I was over head and ears
in love with the strange lady. I began to talk to myself. 'By Venus!'
said I, aloud, 'but she is an angel, regular built, and if I only
could find out her name and--'
"A smothered laugh behind me reminded me that so public a place was
hardly appropriate for soliloquizing about angels. I turned in some
vexation and encountered the laughing glance of a well dressed young
man, apparently about twenty-five, who had probably been edified by my
unconscious enthusiasm.
"'You are mistaken, senor,' said he in English, and looking quizzical;
'those images in the niches are said to represent saints and not
angels, though I must own they are admirably calculated to deceive
strangers. As you said you wished to know their names, I will tell
them to you--that is San Pablo, and that is San Pedro, and that is--'
"'You are kind, sir,' said I, interrupting him angrily, 'but I've
heard of the twelve apostles before.'
"'I want to know, as your countrymen say,' retorted the stranger, with
a good-natured mocking laugh.
"I fired up on this. 'Senor,' said I, 'if my countrymen are not so
polished in their speech as the Castilians and their descendants, they
never insult strangers needlessly. I have been insulted once before
in your city within a few days, and allow me to add for your
consideration, that the rascal got well kicked--'
"'You are very kind to give me such fair warning,' replied the
stranger, bowing, 'but allow me to ask whether the name of this person
you punished is Alvarez?'
"'I have heard so, and if he is a connection of yours I am--'
"'Stay, senor, don't get into a passion; believe me, that I thank you
most heartily for the good service you performed on the occasion to
which we allude. I only wish that I can be of use to you in return.'
"'Well, then, senor,' I replied, much mollified, and intent upon
finding out my fair incognito, 'a lady just now passed through into
the church, and if you can only tell me who she is, I will promise to
flog you all the bullies in Cuba.'
"'Ah, that would be a long job, dear senor, but if you will accept my
arm into the church, and point out the angel who has attracted your
notice, I will tell you her name and the part of heaven in which she
resides. She was very beautiful I suppose?'
"'Oh! exquisitely beautiful.'
"'Come, then, I am dying to find out which of our Matanzas belles has
had the good fortune to fascinate you--this way--do you use the holy
water?'
"'In we went and found the organ piping like a northeast snow squall,
and the whole assembly on their knees. The stranger and myself
ensconced ourselves near a large pillar, and I stood by to keep a
bright look out for the lady.
"At last I discovered her among a group of other women, kneeling at
the foot of an opposite pillar.
"'There she is,' I whispered to my companion, who had knelt upon his
pocket-handkerchief.
"'Well, in a moment,' he replied. 'I'm in the middle of a crooked
Latin prayer just now, and have to tell you so in a parenthesis.'
"A turn came to the ceremonies, and all hands arose.
"'_Saecula saeculorum_,' muttered my companion, rising, 'Amen! now
where's your lady?'
"'Yonder, by the pillar,' I whispered, in a fit of ecstasy, for my
beautiful unknown in rising had recognized me, and given me another
thrilling glance from her dark eyes.
"'But there are a score of pillars all around us,' urged the stranger,
'point her out, senor.'
"'Well, then,' said I, extending my arm, 'there she is; you can't see
her face to be sure, but there can be only one such form in the world.
Isn't it splendid?'
"'There are so many ladies by the pillar that I cannot tell to a
certainty which one you mean,' whispered my would-be informant.
Stooping and glancing along my arm with the precision of a Kentucky
rifleman, I brought my finger to bear directly upon the head of the
unknown, who, as the devil would have it, at this critical juncture
turned her head and encountered the deadly aim which we were taking
at her.
"'That's she,' said I, dropping my arm, which had been sticking out
like a pump brake, 'that's she that just now turned about and blushed
so like the deuce--do you know her?'
"'Yes, but I can't tell you here,' was the laconic reply of my
companion; 'come, let's go. You are sure that is the lady,' he
continued, when we had gained the street.
"'Sure! most certainly; can there be any mistake about that face;
besides, didn't you notice how she blushed when she recognized me?'
"'Maybe,' suggested my new friend, 'she blushed to see me.'
"'Well,' said I, 'I don't know to be sure, but I think that the
emotion was on my account; but don't keep me in suspense any longer,
tell me who she is; can I get acquainted with her?'
"'Softly, softly, my friend, one question at a time. Step aboard my
volante, and as we drive down the street I'll give you the information
you so much desire. Will you get in?'
"I climbed aboard without hesitation, and was followed by my strange
friend; the postillion whipped up and we were soon under weigh.
"'Now,' resumed my companion, 'in reply to your first and oft-repeated
inquiry, I have the honor to inform you that the lady is my only
sister. As to your second question--I beg you won't get out--sit
still, my dear sir, I will drive you to the _cafe_--your second
question I cannot so well answer. It would seem that my sister herself
is nothing loth--sit easy, sir, the carriage is perfectly safe--but
unfortunately it happens that the gentleman who has the control of her
actions, her guardian, dislikes Americans extremely; and I have reason
to believe that he has taken a particularly strong antipathy to you.
Indeed, I have heard him swear that he'll cut your throat--pardon me,
Mr. Stewart, for the expression, it is not my own.'
"Surprise overcame my confusion. 'Senor,' cried I, interrupting him,
'it seems you know my name, and--'
"'Certainly I do--Mr. Benjamin Stewart, of the ship John Cabot.'
"'Senor,' I cried, half angrily, 'since you know my address so well,
will you not be so kind as to favor me with yours?'
"'Mine! oh yes, with pleasure, though I now recollect that I have
omitted to state my sister's name--hers first, if you please; it is
Donna Clara Garcia.'
"'And yours is Pedro Garcia.'
"'Exactly, with a _Don_ before it, which my poor father left me. You
perceive, Mr. Stewart, by what means I knew you after your warning
about the kicking, eh? I suspected it was yourself, when I saw an
American gentleman with his arm in a sling, and so I made bold to
accost you in the midst of your rhapsody about angels--'
"'Ah! Don Pedro,' I stammered in confusion, when I recalled the
ludicrous scene, 'how foolish I must appear to you.'
"'For what, senor--for thinking my sister handsome? You do my taste
injustice. I think so myself.'
"We rode on in silence a few minutes. I recalled all that Captain
Hopkins had told me about my new acquaintance, his sister, and her
guardian. I took heart of grace, and determined to know more of the
beautiful creature whom I had now identified; but when I turned toward
my companion, his stern expression, so different from the one his
features had hitherto borne, almost disheartened me.
"'Don Pedro,' said I, with hesitation, 'may I ask if you are angry at
the trifling manner with which I have spoken of your sister before I
knew her to be such?'
"'Is it necessary for me to assure you to the contrary?' he asked,
with a smile again lighting up his face.
"'But if,' I continued, 'I should say that the admiration I have
manifested is sincere, that even in the short time I have seen her
to-day, I have been deeply interested, and that I ardently desire her
acquaintance.'
"'Why, senor, in that case, I should reply, that my sister is very
highly honored by your favorable notice, and that I should do my
possible to make you know each other better. If,' he continued, 'the
case you have supposed be the fact, I think I can manage this matter,
her old janitor to the contrary notwithstanding.'
"'I do say, then,' I replied, with enthusiasm, 'that the sight of
Donna Clara has excited emotions in my bosom I have never felt before.
I shall be the happiest man in the world to have the privilege of
knowing her.'
"'Attend, then. Don Carlos is absent at Havana, and will probably
remain so for a few days, until his wrist gets well; in the meantime,
his sister acts as duenna over Donna Clara. She is quite a nice old
lady, however, and allows my sister far greater liberty in her
brother's absence than ordinarily, as, for instance, to-day. I will
get her to permit Clara to spend a few days at my villa down the
bay--Alvarez himself would not dare to refuse this request, if--' my
companion stopped short, and his brow clouded. 'But I forget the best
of the matter,' he continued a moment after, in a lively tone. 'Senor,
you will dine with me to-morrow, and spend a day or two with me. I
keep bachelor's hall, but I have an excellent cook, and some of the
oldest wine in Cuba. Beside, you will see my sister. Will you honor
me, Mr. Stewart?'
"I was transported, 'Senior,' I cried, 'if Capt. Hopkins--'
"'Oh! a fig for Hopkins,' shouted my volatile friend, 'he shall dine
with me too. He is an ancient of mine--he dare not refuse to let you
go. But there is the fine old sinner himself in the verandah of the
_cafe_; now we can ask him.'
"We rattled up to the door, to the infinite astonishment of my worthy
skipper, who was greatly surprised to see Don Pedro and his second
mate on such excellent terms, and all without his intervention.
"'Hillo!' he shouted, 'how came you two sailing in company?'
"The worthy old seaman was briefly informed of my afternoon's
adventures over a bowl of iced sangaree; and when Pedro made his
proposition about the morrow's dinner, and a little extra liberty for
me, the reply was very satisfactory.
"'Sartainly, sartainly,' said he, 'and I hope good will come of it.'
"'Well, then,' said Pedro, 'as this matter is settled, I must take my
leave. I shall expect you early, gentlemen. _Adieu_'--and, with a
graceful bow, my new friend entered his carriage, and was driven away.
"'Now,' said the skipper, after our boat's crew had cleared their
craft from the crowd at the stairs, 'now, Stewart, what do you think
of the pirate's daughter, my boy? D'ye see, I never happened to sight
her, though her brother and I have been fast friends these five years.
Is she so handsome, Ben.'
"'Full as good-looking as the figure-head of the Cleopatra,' replied
I.
"'Egad! you don't say so!' exclaimed the skipper, who thought that the
aforesaid graven image on the cut-water of his old ship, far excelled
the Venus de Medici in beauty of feature and form. 'She must be
almighty beautiful; and then, my son, she is as rich as the Rajah of
Rangoon, who owns a diamond as big as our viol-block. Did you fall in
love pretty bad, Ben?'
"'Considerable,' I replied, grinning at the old gentleman's
simplicity.
"'By the laws, then, if you don't cut out that sweet little craft from
under that old pirate's guns, you're no seaman, that's a fact! Egad! I
should like to do it, and wouldn't ask only one kiss for salvage, and
you'll be for having the whole concern.'
"The next morning I packed my portmanteau and dressed myself with
unusual care. About ten the skipper and myself got aboard the gig, and
pushed off for Don Pedro's villa, which lay on the eastern shore of
the bay, two miles from the city, and nearly opposite the barracks and
hospital.
"We landed at a little pier at the foot of the garden; the house,
embowered in a grove of orange and magnolia trees, was close at hand.
Don Pedro met us on the verandah.
"'Welcome! welcome!' he cried; 'how do you like the appearance of my
bachelor's hall? But come, let's go in; my sister has arrived, and
knows that I expect Captain Hopkins and Mr. Stewart, of the Cabot,
and,' he added, with a significant smile, 'nothing more, though she
has been very curious to find who the gentlemen is with whom I entered
the church yesterday.'
"We entered the drawing-room, and there, sure enough, was my angel of
the cathedral-porch. Her eye fell upon me as I passed the doorway,
and, by the half start and blush, I saw that I was plainly recognized,
and with pleasure. We were formally presented by Don Pedro, and, after
the old skipper had been flattered into an ecstasy of mingled
admiration and self-complacency, Donna Clara turned again to me.
"'I do not know that I ought to have bid you welcome, Mr. Stewart,'
she said, with an arch smile, 'you treated my poor guardian
shamefully, I am told.'
"'Yes,' cried Pedro, 'and just to let you know what a truculent person
he is, know that yesterday he more than insinuated that he would serve
me in the same way that he did Don Carlos.'"
"Land ho!" sung out the man on the look-out.
"Where away?" shouted Langley, walking forward.
"Pretty near ahead, sir; perhaps a point on our starboard bow, sir."
"Land ho!" bellowed the man at the wheel, "just abeam, sir, to
loo-ard."
"What had I better do, sir?" inquired Langley, of the mate.
"I was looking at the chart just at night, and I should reckon the
land ahead might be Mayaguana, and the Little Caycos under our lee."
"Head her about west, then; but we shall have the lead going soon."
We filled away before the wind, which had now veered again to the
eastward, and in a few moments were dashing bravely on, sailing right
up the moon's wake toward the Pass, the land lying on each side of us
like blue clouds resting on the horizon. We settled ourselves again on
the hatch, lighted fresh cigars, and the mate resumed his broken yarn.
"It is getting late, boys, almost six bells, and I must cut my story a
little short. I will pass over the dinner, the invitation to stay
longer, Captain Hopkins' consent, the undisguised pleasure and the
repressed delight of Clara at this arrangement, and I will pass over
the next two days, only saying that the memory of them haunts me yet;
and that though at the time they seemed short enough, yet when I look
back upon them, it is hard to realize they were not months instead of
days, so much of heart experience did I acquire in the time. I found
Clara to be every thing which the most exacting wife-hunter could
wish--beautiful as a dream. Believe me, boys, I do not now speak with
the enthusiasm of a lover, but such beauty is seldom seen on the
earth. Added to this, she was intellectual, refined, accomplished, and
highly educated. I went back four years in life, and with all the
enthusiasm of a college student I raved of poetry and romance. We read
German together, and we talked of love in French; and the musical
tongue of Italy, it seemed to me, befitted her mouth better than her
own sonorous native language, and when in conversation she would look
me one of those dreamy glances which had at the first set my heart in
agitation, it perfectly bewildered me. You needn't smile, Langley,
(poor Bill's face was guilty of no such distortion,) but if your
little _danseuse_ should practice for years, she couldn't attain to
the delicious glance which my handsome creole girl can give you. The
heavily-fringed eyelid is just raised, so that you can look as if for
an interminable distance into the beautiful orb beneath, and at the
end of the vista, see the fiery soul which lies so far from the
voluptuous exterior.
"But, though I was madly in love, I had not yet dared with my lips to
say so to the lady, whatever my eyes might have revealed; but Pedro
was my confident, and encouraged me to hope.
"The third day of my sojourn on shore was spent in a visit to Don
Pedro's plantation in the vale, and it was dark when we arrived home.
After the light refreshment which constitutes the evening meal of
Cuba, Don Pedro pleaded business, and left the apartment--and for the
first time that day I was alone with Clara.
"'Now,' thought I, 'now or never.'
"If upon the impulse of the moment a man proceeds to make love, he
generally does it up ship-shape; but if he, with malice aforethought,
lays deliberate plans, he finds it the most awkward traverse to work
in the world to follow them--but I did not know this. I sat by the
table, and in my embarrassment kept pushing the solitary taper farther
and farther from me, until at last over it went, and was extinguished
upon the floor.
"'I beg ten thousand pardons!' cried I apologizing.
"'_N'importe_,' replied Clara, 'there is a fine moon, which will give
us light enough.'
"She rose and drew the curtain of the large bow-window, so common in
the West Indian houses, and the rich moonlight, now unvexed by the
dull glare of the taper, flowed into the apartment, bathing every
object it touched with silvery radiance. Clara sat in the window, in
the full glow of the light, leaning forward toward the open air, and
I, with a beating heart, gazed upon her superb beauty. Shall I ever
forget it? Her head leaned upon a hand and arm which Venus herself
might envy; the jetty curls which shaded her face fell in graceful
profusion, Madonna-like, upon shoulders faultless in shape, and white
as that crest of foam on yonder sea. Her face was the Spanish oval,
with a low, broad feminine forehead, eyebrows exquisitely penciled,
and arching over eyes that I shall not attempt to describe. Her lovely
bosom, half exposed as she leaned over, reminded me, as it heaved
against the chemiset, of the bows of a beautiful ship, rising and
sinking with the swell of the sea, now high in sight, and anon buried
in a cloud of snowy spray. One hand, buried in curls, I have said,
supported her head, the other, by her side, grasped the folds of her
robe, beneath which peeped out a tiny foot in a way that was rather
dangerous to my sane state of mind to observe.
"We had sat a few moments in silence, when Clara suddenly spoke.
"'Come hither, senor,' said she, 'look out upon this beautiful
landscape, and tell me whether in your boasted land there can be found
one as lovely. Have you such a sky, such a moon, such waters, and
graceful trees, such blue mountains--and, hark! have you such music?'
"I approached to her side and looked out. The band at the barracks had
just begun their nightly serenade, and the music traveled across the
bay to strike upon our ears so softly, that it sounded like strains
from fairy land.
"'They are playing an ancient march of the days of Ferdinand and
Isabel,' whispered Clara; 'could you not guess its stately measures
were pure old Castilian? Now mark the change--that is a Moorish
serenade; is it not like the fitful breathings of an Eolian harp?'
"The music ceased, but it died in cadences so soft that I stood with
lips apart, half in doubt whether the spirit-sound I yet heard were
the effect of imagination or not. Reluctantly I was compelled to
believe myself deceived, and then turned to look upon the landscape. I
never remember of seeing a lovelier night. It was now nine o'clock,
and the sounds of business were hushed on the harbor, but boats,
filled with gay revelers, glided ever the sparkling surface of the
water, whose laugh and song added interest and life to the scene.
Nearly opposite to us, upon the other side of the bay, were the
extensive barracks, hospital, and the long line of the Marino, their
white stuccoed walls glowing in the moonlight. On our left the
beautiful city rose like an amphitheatre around the head of the bay;
the hum of the populace, and the rumbling of wheels sounding faintly
in the distance. Behind the town the blue conical peaks of the
mountains melted into the sky. On our right was the roadstead and open
sea, the moon's wake thereon glittering like a street in heaven, and
reaching far away to other lands. All around us grew a wilderness of
palm, orange, cocoa, and magnolia trees, vocal with the thousand
strange noises of a tropical night. Directly below us, but a cable
length from the overhanging palms which fringed the shore, lay a heavy
English corvette in the deep shade of the land; but the arms of the
sentry on her forecastle glinted in the moonbeams as he paced his
lonely watch, and sung out, as the bell struck twice, his accustomed
long-drawn cry of 'All's well!' Just beyond her, in saucy propinquity,
lay a slaver, bound for the coast of Africa--a beautiful, graceful
craft. Still farther out the crew of a clumsy French brig were
chanting the evening hymn to the Virgin. Ships from every civilized
country lay anchored, in picturesque groups, in all directions, and
far down, her tall white spars standing in bold and graceful relief
against the dark, gray walls of San Severino, I recognized my own
beautiful craft, sitting like a swan in the water; and still farther,
in the deep water of the roadstead, lay an American line-of-battle
ship, her lofty sides flashing brightly in the moonlight, and her
frowning batteries turned menacingly toward the old castle, telling a
plain bold tale of our country's power and glory, and making my heart
proud within me that I was an American sailor.
"'Say,' again asked Clara, in a low, hushed voice, 'saw you ever aught
so lovely in your own land?'
"To tell the truth, I had forgotten my sweet companion for a moment.
'I am sorry,' said I, taking her hand, 'very sorry, that you think the
United States so unenviable a place of residence. I hope, dear lady,
to persuade you to make it your home.'
"The small hand I clasped trembled in mine.
"'Senora,' said I, taking a long breath, and beginning a little
speech which I had composed for the occasion, while sitting at the
table pushing the candle-stick, 'Senora, I have your brother's
permission to address you. I am--a--sure, indeed, convinced, that I
love you--ahem--considerably. I have known you, to be sure, but a few
days, but, as I said before--at least--at all events--I could be quite
happy if you were my wife--you know. Senora, and if you could--a--'
"I had proceeded thus far swimmingly, except that a few of the words I
had previously selected seemed, when I came to pronounce them, as
extravagant, and so I had substituted others in their place, not so
liable to be censured for that fault; beside, a lapse of memory had
once or twice occasioned temporary delay and embarrassment; but I had
got along thus far, I say, as I presumed, exceedingly well, when, oh,
thunder! Donna Clara disengaged her hand, curtseyed deeply, bade me
good-night, and swept haughtily out of the room. Egad! I felt as if
roused out of my berth by a cold sea filling it full in the middle of
my watch below. 'Lord!' thought I, aloud, 'what can I have done? There
I was, making love according to the chart, and before I knew it, I'm
high and dry ashore. One thing is clear as a bell, she is a
regular-built coquette, and all her fine looks to me are nothing but
man-traps, decoys, and false lights. Yet how beautiful she is, how she
has deceived me, and how much I might have loved her. Shall I try
again? No, I'm d--d if I do! once is enough for me. Egad! I can take a
hint without being kicked. To-morrow I'll go aboard again, and to work
like a second mate as I am; that's decided. But--'
"Absorbed in very disagreeable reflections, I sat by the window,
insensible to the charms without, which had before been so
fascinating, when I was suddenly aroused by the opening of the door. I
looked around, and saw Don Pedro. 'Where's Donna Clara?' he asked.
"'Gone,' I replied, in an exceeding bad humor.
"'What! so early? I made sure to find her here as usual.'
"'Well,' said I, 'you perceive that you were mistaken, I presume'--I
was _very_ cross.
"'Why, senor, something has gone wrong; you appear chagrined.'
"'Oh! no, sir; never was so good-natured in my life--ha! ha! beautiful
evening, Don Pedro! remarkably fine night! How pleasant the moon
shines, don't it?'
"'Mr. Stewart,' said Don Pedro, gravely, 'I do not wish to press you,
but you will greatly oblige me by telling me what has passed between
yourself and Donna Clara this night?'
"So, rather ashamed of my petulence, I recounted my essay at
love-making.
"'Carramba!' ejaculated Don Pedro, 'how d--d foolish--in her, I mean.
She is a wayward girl, sir, but yet I think she loves you. I tell you
frankly that I ardently desire her to marry you; pardon me, then, when
I say, that if you love her, do not be discouraged, but try again.'
"'I think not,' said I, decidedly, 'I go on board to-morrow.'
"My usually lively and mercurial friend sighed heavily, and then
drawing a chair, sat down opposite me. 'Listen to me a moment, sir,'
said he. 'Cast aside your mortified pride, and answer me frankly. Do
you really love my sister? Would you wish to see her subjected to the
alternative, either to become the wife of Don Carlos Alvarez, or else
to be confined in a convent, perhaps be constrained or influenced to
take the hateful veil? You alone can save her from this dreadful
dilemma.'
"My Yankee cautiousness was awakened, but I replied, 'I do love your
sister, sir, and would do any thing but marry a woman who does not
love me to save her from such a fate as you represent; but still, sir,
I cannot perceive how that I, till lately unknown to you, can have
such an influence over you and yours. Is not your own power sufficient
to prevent such undesirable results?'
"I saw by the moonlight that my companion's eyes flashed with anger,
but he made a strong effort to control himself.
"'I do not wonder,' he said, a moment after, 'that you are angry, Mr.
Stewart, after the conduct of my madcap sister, or indeed that you
deem it strange to find yourself of so much importance suddenly,' he
added, a little maliciously, 'but I will explain the last matter to
you, relying upon your honor. About two years ago, I accompanied
Alvarez to Havana, upon some business relative to Clara's estate.
While returning late one evening to our hotel, we heard in a retired
street the cries of a woman in distress. Midnight outrages were then
very common in the city, and usually the inhabitants, if they were not
themselves interested in the issue, paid very little attention to
calls for assistance, and Alvarez, upon my suggesting to him to go
with me to the aid of the lady making the outcry, advised me to
consult my own safety by keeping clear of the _fracas_, but when a
louder cry for help reached my ears, I could restrain myself no
longer, but started for the scene of action. I soon perceived a
carriage drawn up before a house which had been broken open. Two of
the professional bravos were forcing a lady into this carriage, whom,
by the light of the lanterns, I recognized to be an actress at the San
Carlos. A gentleman in a mask stood by, apparently the commander of
the expedition. I called to the ruffians to desist, but was hindered
from attacking them by the gentleman, who drew his sword and kept me
off, while the robbers forced the lady into the carriage and drove
rapidly away. My antagonist seemed also disposed to retreat, but I was
very angry and kept him engaged, until, growing angry in his turn, he
seriously prepared himself to fight. He was a very expert swordsman,
nevertheless in a few minutes I ran him through the body, and he
instantly fell and expired. At this juncture Don Carlos stepped up,
and when we removed the mask from the face of the corpse, I found to
my consternation that I had killed the Count ----, an aid-de-camp of
the captain-general, and a son of one of the most powerful noblemen
in the mother country. Horror-struck, we fled. The next day the whole
city resounded with the fame of the so-called assassination. The
government offered immense rewards for the discovery of the murderer.
Since that time I hold my life, fortune and honor by the feeble tenure
of Don Carlo's silence. His power over me is very great. I distrust
him much. Unknown to but very few, I have a yacht lying at a little
estate in a rocky nook at Point Yerikos, in complete order to sail at
any moment. On board of her is a large amount of property in money and
jewels, but still, alas! I should, in case of flight, be forced to
leave behind the greater part of my patrimony, which is in real
estate, which I dare not sell for fear of exciting Alvarez' suspicion.
I live on red-hot coals. Clara alone detains me. It is true that she
might fly with me, but she would leave her large fortune behind in the
hands of her devil of a guardian. Now, with what knowledge you already
have of my father's will, you can easily guess the rest. You are no
stranger to me. I know your history, your family, your education, and,
under the most felicitous circumstances, would be proud and happy to
call you brother. Now, then, decide to try again. Clara shall not
refuse you; she does not wish to do so; on the contrary, she loves
you; but some of her oddness was in the ascendant to-night, and so it
happened as it did. At any rate I can no longer trifle with my own
safety, and have no authority or means to prevent Don Carlos from
exercising unlimited power over my sister's actions. Good-night,
senor, you can strike the gong when you wish for a servant and a
light. I shall have your answer in the morning.'
"Don Pedro left the room in great agitation, and soon after I retired
to bed. I lay a long time thinking over the events and revelations of
the evening; love and pride alternately held the mastery of my
determinations. I loved Clara well and truly, and sympathized with her
and her brother in their unfortunate situation, but I had been
virtually refused once, and my pride revolted from accepting the hand
thus forced into mine by the misfortunes of its owner. At last, as the
clock struck three, I fell asleep, still undecided. The sun had first
risen in the morning when I started from an uneasy slumber. I dressed
myself, passed through my window to the verandah, and down to the
water, where I bathed, and returning through the garden entered an
arbor and stretched myself on a settee, the better to collect my
thoughts.
"I had been here but a very short time when I heard voices approaching
me, and upon their drawing nearer, I perceived Don Pedro and his
sister engaged in earnest conversation. It was now too late to
retreat, for they were approaching me by the only way I could effect
it, and I was upon the point of going forth to meet them, when they
paused in front of the arbor, and I heard Clara pronounce my name so
musically, that I hope you will not think I did wrong, when told that
I drew back, determined to listen, and thereby to obtain a hint
whereupon to act. Clara leaned upon her brother's arm, who had
evidently been expostulating with her, for his voice was earnest and
reproachful, and Clara's eyes looked as if she had been crying.
"'And yet you say,' continued Pedro, 'that you can love this
gentleman.'
"'Can love him!' cried Clara passionately, 'oh! Pedro, if you only
knew how I do love him!'
"'Why, then, in the name of all that is consistent, did you act so
strangely last night? In your situation an offer from any American
gentleman deserved consideration, to say the least; but Mr. Stewart, a
friend and _protege_ of our uncle's, a refined, educated man, a man
whom you say you love. Clara, I wonder at you! What could have been
the reason?'
"'This, Pedro,' said Clara, looking at the toe of her slipper, which
was drawing figures in the gravel-walk. 'You must know that I did it
to punish him for making love so awkwardly. Now, instead of going down
on his knees, as the saints know I could have done to him, the
cold-blooded fellow went on as frigidly as if he had been buying a
negro, and that too with a moon shining over him which should have
crazed him, and talking to a girl whose heart was full of fiery love
for him. Pedro, my heart was chilled, and so, to punish him, I--'
"'Diablo!' swore Pedro, dropping his sister's arm, and striding off in
a great rage.
"'Oh! stay, brother!' sobbed poor Clara; 'indeed, I could not help it.
Oh, dear!' she continued, as Pedro vanished from her sight, 'now
_he's_ angry. What have I done?' She buried her face in her hands,
entered the arbor, threw herself on the settee, and began sobbing with
convulsive grief. Here was a situation for an unsophisticated youth
like myself. Egad! my heart bounced about in my breast like a shot
adrift in the cook's biggest copper. I approached the lady softly,
and, grown wiser by experience, knelt before I took her hand. She
started, screamed faintly, and endeavored to escape.
"'Stay, stay, dearest Clara!' cried I, detaining her, 'I should not
dare to again address you after the repulse of last night, had I not
just now been an inadvertent, but delighted listener to your own sweet
confession that you loved me. Let me say in return that I love you as
wildly, tenderly, passionately, as if I, like you, had been born under
a southern sun; that I cannot be happy without you. Forgive me for
last night. It was not that my heart was cold, but I was fearful that
unless I constrained myself I should be wild and extravagant. Dearest
Clara, will you say to me that which you just now told Pedro?'
"Her head sunk upon my shoulder. 'Senor,' she murmured, 'I do love
you, and with my whole heart.'
"'And will be my wife?' I asked.
"'Whenever you please.'"
Here the mate paused, and gave several very energetic puffs, and
lighted a new cigar.
"I clasped the dear girl to my heart," he resumed, "and kissed her
cheeks, her lips and eyes, a thousand times, and was just beginning on
the eleventh hundred, when, lo, there stood mine host in the doorway,
evidently very much amused, and, considering that it was his sister
with whom these liberties had been taken, extremely satisfied.
"I came immediately to the conclusion, in my own mind, to defer any
farther labial demonstrations, and felt rather foolish; but Clara
arranged her dress and looked defiance.
"'I beg ten thousand pardons,' said Don Pedro, entering, hat in hand,
and bowing low, 'but really the scene was so exquisitely fine, so much
to my taste, that I could not forbear looking on awhile. Clara, dear,
has Mr. Stewart discovered the way to make love _a la mode_? I
understood you to say he did it oddly and coldly; but, by Venus! I
think he does it in the most natural manner possible, and with some
warmth and vigor, or else I'm no judge of kissing--and I make some
pretensions to being a connoisseur.'
"'And an amateur also,' retorted Clara.
"'I won't deny the soft impeachment--but, my friends, breakfast is
waiting for you, if Mr. Stewart can bring his appetite to relish
coffee after sipping nectar from my sweet sister's lips.'
"We made a very happy trio that morning around the well-spread board
of my friend Pedro. Just as we were rising, however, a servant brought
in a note for his master. Don Pedro's brow darkened as he read it. 'It
is from Carlos,' said he, folding it up, 'and informs me that he will
be at home to-night, and will call for you, Clara--for it seems he has
been informed of your visit here, and is determined that it shall be
as short as possible. We must work quick then.'
"'But what is to be done?' I inquired.
"'You need do nothing at present but keep Clara company, while I go to
town to see Capt. Hopkins. We will arrange some plan.'
"Clara and I passed the morning as you may imagine; it seemed but a
few minutes from Pedro's departure for the city, till his return in
company with my skipper.
"'Ben,' shouted the latter, seizing my hand, 'may I be d--d but you're
a jewel--begging your pardon, Donna Clara, for swearing in your
presence, which I did not notice before.'
"When Clara retired to dress for dinner, Capt. Hopkins divulged to me
the plans which had been formed by him and Pedro. 'D'ye see, Ben, my
child, Don Pedro and I have arranged the matter in A No. 1 style; and
if we can only work the traverse, it'll be magnificent--and I don't
very well see why we can't. To day is Thursday, you know. Well, I
shall hoist my last box of sugar aboard to-morrow night, and, after
dark, Don Pedro is going to run a boat alongside with his plunder and
valuables. Your sweetheart must go home, it appears, but before she
goes you must make an arrangement with her to be at a certain window
of Alvarez' house, Pedro will tell her which, at twelve o'clock
Saturday night. You and her brother will be under it ready to receive
her; and when you have got the lady, you will bring her aboard the
ship, which shall be ready to cut and run, I tell you; up killock,
sheet home, and I'll defy all the cutters in Havana to overhaul us
with an hour's start! Those chaps in Stockholm are almighty
particular about your health, if your papers show that you left Havana
after the first of June, and so, to pull the wool over their eyes, and
save myself a long quarantine, I was intending to stop at Boston and
get a new clearance, so it'll be no trouble at all to set you all
ashore, for Don Pedro and his sister will not wish to go to Sweden;
and my second mate, I suppose, will want to get married and leave me.
Now, Ben, my boy, that's what I call a XX plan; no scratch brand about
that; superfine, and no mistake, and entitled to debenture.'
"'Excellent, indeed!' replied I.
"'Well, after dinner, we'll give you time to tell your girl all about
it, and to kiss her once or twice; but you must bear a hand about it,
now I tell you, because we must be out of that bloody pirate's way
when he comes, and there's a sight of work to do aboard.'
"After dinner the whole matter was again talked over and approved by
all, and then the skipper and myself took our leave and went aboard.
"As Captain Hopkins had arranged, we finished our freight on Friday
evening, and in the night Pedro came off to us with a boat-load of
baggage, pictures, heirlooms, and money. The next day we cleared at
the custom-house, and in the afternoon hove short on our anchor,
loosed our sails, and made every preparation for putting to sea in a
hurry. A lieutenant from the castle came off with our blacks after
dark, and while he was drinking a glass of wine in the cabin, Don
Pedro, most unfortunately, came on board. I heard his voice and
started to intercept him; but he met me in the companion, and seizing
me by the hand, exclaimed, 'Well, Stewart, you are all ready to cut
and run, I see; by this time to-morrow I hope we will be far beyond
reach--'
"'Hush! hush! for God's sake!' I whispered, pointing to the companion;
'there is an officer from the castle below.'
"We walked to the sky-light and looked down.
"'Diablo!' muttered Pedro, with a start, 'do you think he heard me?'
"'No, I think not; the skipper and he did not cease conversation. The
steward is so glad to get back amongst his crockery, that he was
kicking up a devil of a row in the pantry; that may have drowned your
voice.'
"'If he did hear me I'm ruined. He is Don Sebastian Alvarez, a nephew
of Carlos', and dependent on him; he has watched me closely for three
months. What is his errand?'
"'He brought off our cook and steward, who have been confined in the
castle.'
"'Well, I dare say all is right; he is a lieutenant in the castle, and
there is nothing strange in his being here on such business; but I'll
keep out of sight.'
"The officer soon came on deck, shook hands with Captain Hopkins,
wished him a pleasant voyage, and then went down into his boat,
ordering the men to pull for the castle.
"'All right, I trust,' cried Pedro, emerging from the round-house,
'if he had started for the city, it would have been suspicious.'
"The skipper called the crew, who were principally Yankees, upon the
quarter-deck, and in a brief speech stated the case in hand to them.
'Now, my men,' said he, 'which of you will volunteer to go with Don
Pedro Garcia and Mr. Stewart?'
"Every man offered his services. We chose six lusty fellows, and
supplied them with pistols and cutlasses. Don Pedro gave them a
doubloon a-piece, and to each of the rest of the crew a smaller sum.
At eleven o'clock we descended into the boat and pushed off for the
shore. The night had set in dark and rainy, with a strong breeze,
almost a gale, from the south. The men rowed in silence and with
vigor, but the wind was ahead for us, and when we landed at the end of
the mole, behind a row of molasses-hogsheads, it wanted but a few
moments of twelve. Leaving two men for boat-keepers, Don Pedro and
myself, with the other four, traversed the silent streets until we
stopped in a dark lane, in the rear of a large house, which appeared
to front upon a more frequented street, for even at that late hour a
carriage occasionally was heard.
"'Now, hist!' whispered Pedro, 'listen for footsteps.'
"We strained our ears, but heard nothing but the clang of the
deep-toned cathedral bell, striking the hour of twelve. A moment after
a window above us opened, and a female form stepped out upon the
balcony.
"'Pedro, whispered the musical voice of Clara, 'is that you?'
"'Yes, yes--hush! Mr. Stewart is here, and some of his men. Are you
all ready?'
"'Yes,' replied Clara; 'but how am I going to descend?'
"'Catch this line, which I will throw to you,' said I, making a coil.
"The fair girl caught the line as handily as--as--a monkey, I suppose
I must say.
"'Now, haul away,' I said; 'there is a ladder bent on to the other
end, which you must make fast to the balustrade.'
"'What!' cried Clara, quite aloud, 'a ladder!--a real, live
rope-ladder! how delightfully romantic!'
"'Hush! hush! you lunatic!' said Pedro, in a hoarse whisper.
"'Oh, Pedro!' continued his sister, 'just think how droll it is to run
away with one's lover, and one's brother standing by aiding and
abetting! Oh, fie! I'm ashamed of you! There, now, I've fastened this
delightful ladder--what next?'
"I ascended, and taking her in my arms, prepared to assist her to the
ground.
"'Am I not heavy?' she asked, as she put her arms about my neck.
"My God! boys, I could have lifted twenty of her as I felt then.
"'This is the second time, senor, that you have helped me to the
ground within a week; now get me on the water, and I will thank you
for all at once.'
"'In a few moments more all danger will be behind us, dearest.'
"Clara leaned upon my arm, enveloped in a boat-cloak, while we rapidly
retraced our steps to the boat, which we reached in safety, but,
behold, the men whom we had left were missing. Hardly had we made
ourselves sure of this unwelcome fact when a file of men, headed by
the same officer who had boarded us in the evening, sprang out from
behind the molasses-hogsheads. In a moment more a fierce fight had
begun. I seized Clara by the waist with one arm, and drew my cutlas
just in time to save my head from the sabre of Carlos Alvarez, who
aimed a blow at me, crying, 'Now, dog of a Yankee, it is my turn!'
"'In the name of the king! in the name of the king!' shouted the
officer--but it made no difference, we fought like seamen. Clara had
fainted, but I still kept my hold of her, when suddenly a ton weight
seemed to have fallen on my head; my eyes seemed filled with red-hot
sparks of intense brilliancy and heat; the wild scene around vanished
from their sight as I sunk down stunned and insensible.
"When I came to myself, I was lying in my own berth aboard the ship. I
felt weak, faint, and dizzy, and strove in vain to collect my thoughts
sufficiently to remember what had happened. My state-room door was
open, and I perceived that the sun's rays were shining brightly
through the sky-light upon the cabin-table, at which sat Capt.
Hopkins, overhauling the medicine-chest, which was open before him. I
knew by the sharp heel of the vessel, her uneasy pitching, and the
cool breeze which fanned my fevered cheek, that the ship was close
hauled on a wind, and probably far at sea. I looked at my arms; they
were wasted to half their usual size, and my head was bandaged and
very sore and painful. Slowly and with difficulty I recalled the
events of the few hours preceding that in which I had lost my
senses--then I remembered the _melee_ on the mole. Evidently I had
been severely wounded, and while senseless been brought off to the
ship. Then came the inquiry, what had been the fate of Clara and her
brother. Were they safe on board, or were they captured or killed in
the _fracas_? I hardly dared to ask the skipper who still sat at the
table, with a most dolorous face, arranging the vials and gallipots.
At last the suspense became intolerable.
"'Captain Hopkins,' said I, but in a voice so weak that it startled
me. Faint as it was, however, the worthy skipper started to his feet,
and was by my side in an instant.
"'Glory to God!' he shouted, snapping his fingers. 'I know by your
eyes that reason has hold of your helm again. You'll get well now!
Hurrah! D--n, though I mus'n't make so much noise.'
"'But, Captain Hopkins--'
"'Can't tell you any thing now, you're too weak to bear it; that
is--you know, Ben, good news is--ahem! dreadful apt to kill sick
people; and you've been horrid sick, that's a fact. I thought four
days ago that you had shipped on a voyage to kingdom come, and was
outward bound; but you'll do well enough now, if you only keep quiet,
and if you don't you'll slip your wind yet. Shut up your head, take a
drink of this stuff, and go to sleep.'
"Capt. Hopkins left me, and, anxious as I was, I soon fell sound
asleep. When I awoke I felt much better and stronger, and teazed the
skipper so much, that he at last ventured to tell me that after I had
been struck down by a sabre-cut over the head, Don Pedro, also badly
wounded, and Donna Clara, had been captured by the soldiers. The two
boat-keepers also were missing, and one of the others left, either
dead or badly wounded, on the mole. Our other three men, finding
themselves overpowered, succeeded barely in gaining the boat with my
insensible form, and pushed off for the ship. Capt Hopkins, upon
hearing their story, had no other alternative but to cut and run, and
favored by the strong southerly gale, he managed to make good his
escape, though fired on by the castle before he had got out of range.
In the hurry and confusion my wound was not properly attended to, and
a brain fever set in, under which I had been suffering for a week; but
the kind care of Capt. Hopkins and Mr. Smith, and the strength of my
constitution, at last prevailed over the disease. Dismal as was this
story, and the prospects it unfolded, my spirits, naturally buoyant,
supported me, and I determined that when the ship should arrive in
Boston I would leave her and return immediately to Cuba, to make an
effort for the release of my friends. Wild as was this resolve, I grew
better upon the hope of accomplishing it; and when we anchored off
Long Wharf, after a tedious passage, I was nearly well.
"Notwithstanding the advice of my friends I made arrangements for an
immediate return to Matanzas, but the day before my intended departure
the Paragon arrived from that port; and I learned from her officers
that Don Pedro was closely confined, awaiting his trial for the murder
of Count ----, the result of which would be, without doubt, against
him. Clara, believing the general report of my death, had entered the
Ursuline Convent to begin her novitiate; and I was told that if I was
to be seen in Matanzas, the _garrote_, or chain-gang, was all that I
could expect. Your father then told me that if I would consent to
accompany Captain Hopkins, he would sail in my place to Matanzas, and
do his utmost for his nephew and niece. I could not help but see the
wisdom of this arrangement, and acceded to it. We sailed from Boston
to Stockholm, from thence to Rotterdam, and from thence to Batavia. A
freight offering for Canton, we went to that port, and from thence
came home, after an absence of two years and a half. In the meantime
Don Pedro had been tried, and sentenced to death; but by the exertions
of your father, who wrought faithfully in his behalf, his sentence was
commuted, first to twenty, and then to twelve years in the gallies,
or, as it is in Cuba, the chain-gang. His efforts to see Clara, in
order to disabuse her mind of the belief of my death, was abortive;
and she, after finishing her year as a novice, took the veil--and she
is now a nun in the Ursuline Convent at Matanzas, while her noble
brother is a slave, with felons, laboring with the cursed chain-gang
in the same city to which we are bound. Now, boys, do you wonder that
when I found myself under orders to go again to the scene of all this
misery I was affected, and that a melancholy has possessed me which
has increased as the voyage has progressed? I did determine at first
that I would leave the ship at Gibralter and go home, but I dreaded to
part with my shipmates. I shall not go ashore while we lay at Matanzas
for many reasons, though I should incur no risk, I think. Everybody
who knew me in Matanzas believes me dead long since; and six years of
seafaring life in every climate, changes one strangely. But the wind
has veered again and freshened considerably since I began my yarn. It
looks some as if we might catch a norther by way of variety. Brewster
will have to shorten sail in his watch, I reckon, and maybe keep the
lead going if we make much leeway. Come, Bill, it is 4 o'clock, and a
little past."
"Eight bells, there, for'ard!" shouted the third mate. "Call the
watch! Rouse Brewster, Frank, will you?"
The sleepy, yawning starboard watch were soon on deck, half-dressed,
and snuffing the morning air very discontentedly. We of the larboard
division went below to our berths.
"Langley," said I to the third mate, while we were undressing, "I've
got a plan in my head to get my cousins clear from their bad fix. Will
you help me work it?"
"Marry, that I will," answered Langley, throwing himself into a
theatrical attitude. "Look here, Frank, this is the way I'll run that
bloody Alvarez through the gizzard!"
The last sounds I heard that night were the hurried trampling of feet
over my head on deck, and the shouts of the watch shortening sail. I
fell asleep and dreamed that I was in the _fracas_ at the end of the
mole.
[_Conclusion in our next._
WHITE CREEK.
BY ALFRED B. STREET.
[This is a picturesque little stream in Washington county, State of
New York. It flows through the broad and beautiful meadows of the Hon.
John Savage, late Chief Justice of the State.]
Over the stirless surface of the ground
The hot air trembles. In pale glittering haze
Wavers the sky. Along the horizon's rim,
Breaking its mist, are peaks of coppery clouds.
Keen darts of light are shot from every leaf,
And the whole landscape droops in sultriness.
With languid tread, I drag myself along
Across the wilting fields. Around my steps
Spring myriad grasshoppers, their cheerful notes
Loud in my ear. The ground bird whirs away,
Then drops again, and groups of butterflies
Spotting the path, upflicker as I come.
At length I catch the sparkles of the brook
In its deep thickets, whose refreshing green
Soothes my strained eyesight. The cool shadows fall
Like balm upon me from the boughs o'erhead.
My coming strikes a terror on the scene.
All the sweet sylvan sounds are hushed; I catch
Glimpses of vanishing wings. An azure shape
Quick darting down the vista of the brook,
Proclaims the scared kingfisher, and a plash
And turbid streak upon the streamlet's face,
Betray the water-rat's swift dive and path
Across the bottom to his burrow deep.
The moss is plump and soft, the tawny leaves
Are crisp beneath my tread, and scaly twigs
Startle my wandering eye like basking snakes.
Where this thick brush displays its emerald tent,
I stretch my wearied frame, for solitude
To steal within my heart. How hushed the scene
At first, and then, to the accustomed ear,
How full of sounds, so tuned to harmony
They seemed but silence; the monotonous purl
Of yon small water-break--the transient hum
Swung past me by the bee--the low meek burst
Of bubbles, as the trout leaps up to seize
The skipping spider--the light lashing sound
Of cattle, mid-leg in the shady pool,
Whisking the flies away--the ceaseless chirp
Of crickets, and the tree-frog's quavering note.
Now, from the shadow where I lie concealed,
I see the birds, late banished by my form,
Appearing once more in their usual haunts
Along the stream; the silver-breasted snipe
Twitters and seesaws on the pebbly spots
Bare in the channel--the brown swallow dips
Its wings, swift darting round on every side;
And from yon nook of clustered water-plants,
The wood-duck, slaking its rich purple neck,
Skims out, displaying through the liquid glass
Its yellow feet, as if upborne in air.
Musing upon my couch, this lovely stream
I liken to the truly good man's life,
Amid the heat of passions, and the glare
Of wordly objects, flowing pure and bright,
Shunning the gaze, yet showing where it glides
By its green blessings; cheered by happy thoughts,
Contentment, and the peace that comes from Heaven.
THE ALCHEMIST'S DAUGHTER.
A DRAMATIC SKETCH.
BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ.
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
GIACOMO, _the Alchemist_,
BERNARDO, _his son-in-law_,
ROSALIA, _his daughter, and Bernardo's wife,_
LORENZO, _his servant_.
SCENE I. FERRARA.
_The interior of Giacomo's house. Giacomo and Lorenzo discovered
together. Time, a little before daybreak._
_Gia._ Art sure of this?
_Lor._ Ay, signor, very sure.
'Tis but a moment since I saw the thing--
Bernardo, who last night was sworn thy son,
Hath made a villainous barter of thine honor.
Thou may'st rely the duke is where I said.
_Gia._ If so--no matter--give me here the light.
[_Exit Giacomo._
_Lor._ (_Alone._) Oh, what a night! It must be all a dream!
For twenty years, since that I wore a beard,
I've served my melancholy master here,
And never until now saw such a night!
A wedding in this silent house, forsooth,--
A festival! The very walls in mute
Amazement stared through the unnatural light!
And poor Rosalia, bless her tender heart,
Looked like her mother's sainted ghost! Ah me,
Her mother died long years ago, and took
One half the blessed sunshine from our house--
The other half was married off last night.
My master, solemn soul, he walked the halls
As if in search of something which was lost;
The groom, I liked not him, nor ever did,
Spoke such perpetual sweetness, till I thought
He wore some sugared villany within:--
But then he is my master's ancient friend,
And always known the favorite of the duke,
And, as I know, our lady's treacherous lord!
Oh, Holy Mother, that to villain hawks
Our dove should fall a prey! poor gentle dear!
Now if I had their throats within my grasp--
No matter--if my master be himself,
Nor time nor place shall bind up his revenge.
He's not a man to spend his wrath in noise,
But when his mind is made, with even pace
He walks up to the deed and does his will.
In fancy I can see him to the end--
The duke, perchance, already breathes his last,
And for Bernardo--he will join him soon;
And for Rosalia, she will take the veil,
To which she hath been heretofore inclined;
And for my master, he will take again
To alchemy--a pastime well enough,
For aught I know, and honest Christian work.
Still it was strange how my poor mistress died,
Found, as she was, within her husband's study.
The rumor went she died of suffocation;
Some cursed crucible which had been left,
By Giacomo, aburning, filled the room,
And when the lady entered took her breath.
He found her there, and since that day the place
Has been a home for darkness and for dust.
I hear him coming; by his hurried step
There's something done, or will be very soon.
(_Enter Giacomo. He sets the light upon the table and confronts
Lorenzo with a stern look._)
_Gia._ Lorenzo, thou hast served me twenty years,
And faithfully; now answer me, how was't
That thou wert in the street at such an hour?
_Lor._ When that the festival was o'er last night,
I went to join some comrades in their wine
To pass the time in memory of the event.
_Gia._ And doubtless thou wert blinded soon with drink?
_Lor._ Indeed, good signor, though the wine flowed free,
I could not touch it, though much urged by all--
Too great a sadness sat upon my heart--
I could do naught but sit and sigh and think
Of our Rosalia in her bridal dress.
_Gia._ And sober too! so much the more at fault.
But, as I said, thou'st served me long and well,
Perchance too long--too long by just a day.
Here, take this purse, and find another master.
_Lor._ Oh, signor, do not drive me thus away!
If I have made mistake--
_Gia._ No, sirrah, no!
Thou hast not made mistake, but something worse.
_Lor._ Oh, pray you, what is that then I have made?
_Gia._ A lie!
_Lor._ Indeed, good master, on my knees
I swear that what I said is sainted truth.
_Gia._ Pshaw, pshaw, no more of this. Did I not go
Upon the instant to my daughter's room
And find Bernardo sleeping at her side?
Some villain's gold hath bribed thee unto this.
Go, go.
_Lor._ Well, if it must be, then it must.
But I would swear that what I said is truth,
Though all the devils from the deepest pit
Should rise to contradict me!
_Gia._ Prating still?
_Lor._ No, signor--I am going--stay--see here--
(_He draws a paper from his bosom._)
Oh, blessed Virgin, grant some proof in this!
This paper as they changed their mantles dropt
Between them to the ground, and when they passed
I picked it up and placed it safely here.
_Gia._ (_Examining it._)
Who forged the lie could fabricate this too:--
But hold, it is ingeniously done.
Get to thy duties, sir, and mark me well,
Let no word pass thy lips about the matter--
[_Exit Lorenzo._
Bernardo's very hand indeed is here!
Oh, compact villainous and black! conditions,
The means, the hour, the signal--every thing
To rob my honor of its holiest pearl!
Lorenzo, shallow fool--he does not guess
The mischief was all done, and that it was
The duke he saw departing--oh, brain--brain!
How shall I hold this river of my wrath!
It must not burst--no, rather it shall sweep
A noiseless maelstrom, whirling to its center
All thoughts and plans to further my revenge
And rid me of this most accursed blot!
(_He rests his forehead on his hand a few minutes, and exclaims,_)
The past returns to me again--the lore
I gladly had forgot comes like a ghost,
And points with shadowy finger to the means
Which best shall consummate my just design.
The laboratory hath been closed too long;
The door smiles welcome to me once again,
The dusky latch invites my hand--I come!
(_He unlocks the door and stands upon the threshold._)
Oh, thou whose life was stolen from me here,
Stand not to thwart me in this great revenge;
But rather come with large propitious eyes
Smiling encouragement with ancient looks!
Ye sages whose pale, melancholy orbs
Gaze through the darkness of a thousand years,
Oh, pierce the solid blackness of to-day,
And fire anew this crucible of thought
Until my soul flames up to the result!
(_He enters and the door closes._)