Chapter III.

I charge you by the law,

Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,

Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear

There is no power in the tongue of man

To alter me: I stay here on my bond.

Shylock.

It is not easy to describe the immediate effect of this discovery on

either of the parties most concerned. Not a doubt remained on the mind of

either, after the facts were explained, of the reality of the

relationship; for that was so simply proved, as to place the circumstance

beyond all dispute. Mrs. Wetmore thought of her lost son as of an innocent

smiling babe; and here she found him a red-faced, hard-featured,

weather-beaten tar, already verging towards age, and a man of manners that

were rough, if not rude. She could not at first possess any knowledge of

the better points in his character, and was compelled to receive this boon

from Providence as it was offered. Nevertheless, a mother's love is not

easily dissatisfied, or smothered; and, ere I left the house, I could see

the old woman's eyes fixed on Marble with an expression of interest and

tenderness they had not manifested previously to the revelations.

As for the mate himself, now that the fondest wish of his life was so

unexpectedly gratified, he was taken so much by surprise that he appeared

to think something was wanting. He found his mother the reputable widow of

a reputable man, of a class in life quite equal to his own, living on a

property that was small, certainly, and involved, but property that had

been long in her family. The truth was, Marble felt so much at this

unlooked-for appeal to his gentler feelings, that one of his stern nature

did not know how to answer it on the emergency; and the obstinacy of his

temperament rather induced him to resist, than to yield to such unwonted

sentiments, I could see he was satisfied with his mother, while he was

scarcely satisfied with himself; and, with a view to place both parties in

truer positions, I desired Moses to walk down and look at the boat, while

I remained alone with his new-found parent. This was not done, however,

until all the explanations had been made, and the mother had both blessed

and wept over her child. It was done, indeed, principally to relieve

Marble from the oppression of feeling created by this very scene.

As soon as alone with Mrs. Wetmore, I explained to her my own connection

with Marble, and gave her a sort of apologetic account of his life and

character, keeping down the weak points, and dwelling on the strong. I set

her mind at ease, at once, on the subject of the farm; for, should the

worst happen, her son had double the amount of money that would be

necessary to discharge the mortgage.

"The debt was incurred, my dear Mrs. Wetmore, in his behalf; and he will

be happy to discharge it on the spot. I would advise you to pay the money

at once. Should the receipt ever be found, this Van Tassel will be obliged

to refund; for, though the law winks at many wrongs, it will not wink at

one so atrocious as this, provided you can satisfy it with proof. I shall

leave Moses----"

"His name is Oloff, or Oliver," interrupted the old woman easerly "I named

him after my own father, and had him duly christened, before he was

entrusted to the nurse, in the hope it might soften his grandfather's

heart, when he came to know of my marriage. Oloff Van Duzer Wetmore is his

real name."

I smiled to think of Marble's sailing under such an appellation, and was

about to suggest a compromise, when the subject of our discourse returned.

The mate had regained his composure during the half-hour he had been

absent; and I saw by the kind glance he threw on his mother, whose look

answered his own more naturally than I could have hoped, that things were

getting right; and, by way of removing the awkwardness of excessive

sensibility, I pursued the discourse.

"We were talking of your true name, Moses, as you came in," I said. "It

will never do for you to hail by one name, while your mother hails by

another. You'll have to cut adrift from Moses Marble altogether."

"If I do, may I be----"

"Hush, hush--you forget where you are, and in whose presence you stand."

"I hope my son will soon learn that he is always in the presence of his

God," observed the mother, plaintively.

"Ay, ay--that's all right, mother, and you shall do with me just what you

please in any of them matters; but as for not being Moses Marble, you

might as well ask me not to be myself. I should be another man, to change

my name. A fellow might as well go without clothes, as go without a name;

and mine came so hard, I don't like to part with it. No, no--had it come

to pass, now, that my parents had been a king and a queen, and that I was

to succeed 'em on the throne, I should reign as King Moses Marble, or not

reign at all."

"You'll think better of this, and take out a new register under your

lawful designation."

"I'll tell you what I'll do, mother, and that will satisfy all parties.

I'll bend on the old name to the new one, and sail under both."

"I care not how you are called, my son, so long as no one has need to

blush for the name you bear. This gentleman tells me you are an honest and

true-hearted man; and those are blessings for which I shall never cease

to thank God."

"Miles has been singing my praises, has he! I can tell you, mother, you

had need look out for Miles's tongue Natur' intended him for a lawyer, and

it's mere accident his being a sailor, though a capital one he is. But

what may be my name, according to law?"

"Oloff Van Duser Wetmore Moses Marble, according to your own expedient of

sailing under all your titles. You can ring the changes, however, and call

yourself Moses Oloff Marble Van Duser Wetmore, if you like that better."

Moses laughed, and as I saw that both he and his new-found mother were in

a fit state to be left together, and that the sun now wanted but an hour

or two of setting, I rose to take my leave.

"You will remain with your mother to-night, Marble," I observed. "I will

keep the sloop at an anchor until I can see you in the morning, when we

will settle the future a little more deliberately."

"I should not like to lose my son so soon after finding him," the old

woman anxiously remarked.

"No fear of me, mother--I berth under your roof to-night, and so many more

in the bargain, that you'll be glad enough to be rid of me in the end."

I then left the house, followed by Marble, towards the boat. As we reached

the little piece of bottom-land, I heard a sort of suppressed sob from the

mate, and, turning round, was surprised to see the tears running down his

sun-burned cheeks. His wrought-up feelings had at last obtained the

mastery; and this rude, but honest creature, had fairly given in, under

the excitement of this strange admixture of joy, wonder, shame, and

natural emotion. I took his hand, gave it a hearty squeeze, but said

nothing; though I stopped, unwilling to go nearer to Neb until my

companion had regained his composure. This he did, sufficiently to speak,

in the course of a minute or two.

"It's all like a dream-to me, Miles," Moses at length muttered--"more out

of natur' like, than setting up for a hermit."

"You'll soon get accustomed to the change, Marble; then everything will

seem in the ordinary way, and natural."

"To think of my being a son, and having a real, living mother!"

"You must have known that you had parents once, though you are fortunate

in finding one of them alive at your time of life."

"And she an honest woman! A mother the President of the United States, or

the first commodore in the navy, needn't be ashamed of!"

"All that is fortunate, certainly; especially the first."

"She's a bloody good-looking old woman in the bargain. I'll have her

dressed up and carry her down to town, the first opportunity."

"What would you give an old woman that trouble for? You'll think better of

these matters, in the long run."

"Better! Yes, I'll take her to Philadelphia, and perhaps to Baltimore.

There's the gardens, and the theatres, and the museums, and lots of things

that I dare say the dear old soul never laid eyes on."

"I'm mistaken in your mother, if she would not prefer a church to all of

them put together."

"Well, there's churches in all of them towns. Put it on a religious

footing, if you will, and I ought to take my mother as soon as possible

down to York. She's old, you see, and cannot live for ever, just to oblige

me; and here has she been tied down to one church all her days, giving her

no ch'ice nor opportunity. I dare say, now, variety is just as agreeable

in religion, as in anything else."

"You are nearer right there, Moses, than you think yourself, possibly. But

we can talk of all these things to-morrow. A good night's rest will give

us cooler heads in the morning."

"I shall not sleep a wink for thinking of it. No, no--I'll make the old

lady pack up before breakfast, and we'll sail in the sloop. I'll take her

aboard the Dawn with me in town, and a comfortable time we'll have of it

in her cabins. She has as good state-rooms as a yacht."

There were no liners in those days; but a ship with two cabins was a

miracle of convenience.

"Your mother will hardly suit a ship, Moses; and a ship will hardly suit

your mother."

"How can any of us know that till we try? If I'm a chip of the old block,

they'll take to each other like rum and water. If I'm to go out in the

ship, I'm far from certain I'll not take the old woman to sea with me."

"You'll probably remain at home, now that you _have_ a home, and a mother,

and other duties to attend to. I and my concerns will be but secondary

objects with you hereafter, Mr. Wetmore."

"Wetmore be d----d! D'ye mean, Miles, that I'm to give up my calling,

give up the sea, give up _you_?"

"You wished to be a hermit once, and found it a little too solitary; had

you a companion or two, you would have been satisfied, you said. Well,

here is everything you can wish; a mother, a niece, a house, a farm,

barns, out-houses, garden and orchard; and, seated on that porch, you can

smoke segars, take your grog, look at the craft going up and down the

Hudson----"

"Nothing but so many bloody sloops," growled the mate. "Such in-and-in

fore-and-afters that their booms won't stay guyed-out, even after you've

been at the pains to use a hawser."

"Well, a sloop is a pleasant object to a sailor, when he can set nothing

better. Then there is this Mr. Van Tassel to settle with--you may have a

ten years' law-suit on your hands, to amuse you."

"I'll make short work with that scamp, when I fall in with him. You're

right enough, Miles; that affair must be settled before I can lift an

anchor. My mother tells me he lives hard by, and can be seen, at any

moment, in a quarter of an hour. I'll pay him a visit this very night."

This declaration caused me to pause. I knew Marble too well, not to

foresee trouble if he were left to himself in a matter of this nature, and

thought it might be well to inquire further into the affair. Sailors do

everything off-hand. Mrs. Wetmore telling me that her son's statement was

true, on my going back to the house to question her in the matter, and

offering us the use of an old-fashioned one-horse chaise, that the only

farm-labourer she employed was just then getting ready to go in, in quest

of Kitty, I availed myself of the opportunity, took the printed

advertisement of the sale to read as we went along, obtained our

directions, and off Marble and I went in quest of the usurer.

There would be sufficient time for all our purposes. It is true that the

horse, like the house, its owner, the labourer, the chaise, and all we had

yet seen about Willow Cove, as we had learned the place was called, was

old; but he was the more safe and sure. The road led up the ascent by a

ravine, through which it wound its way very prettily; the labourer walking

by our side to point out the route, after we should reach the elevation of

the country that stretched inland.

The view from the height, as it might be termed in reference to the river,

though it was merely on the level of the whole region in that portion of

the State, was both extensive and pretty. Willow Grove, as Marble called

his mother's place three or four times, while our horse was working his

way up the ascent, looked more invitingly than ever, with its verdant

declivities, rich orchards, neat cottage, all ensconced behind the

sheltering cover of the river heights. Inland, we saw a hundred farms,

groves without number, divers roads, a hamlet within a mile of us, an

old-fashioned extinguisher-looking church-spire, and various houses of

wood painted white, with here and there a piece of rustic antiquity in

bricks, or stone, washed with lime; or some livelier paint; for the Dutch

of New York had brought the habits of Holland with them, delighting in

colours. This relief may be desirable in a part of the world where the

eternal green of the meadows in a manner fatigues the eye; but certainly

the grey of nature has no just competitor in the tints of the more

artificial portions of the ordinary landscape. White may make a scene look

gay; but it can never lend it dignity, or the solemn hues that so often

render the loveliness of a view impressive, as well as sweet. When this

glaring colour reaches the fences, it gives the prettiest landscape the

air of a bleaching-yard, or of a great laundry, with the clothes hung

out to dry!

The guide pointed out to us the house of Van Tassel, and another at which

we should find Kitty, who was to be brought home by us on our return.

Understanding the course and distance, we put to sea without any

misgivings. The horse was no flyer, and Marble and I had plenty of leisure

to arrange preliminaries before reaching the door to which we were bound.

After some consultation, and a good of discussion, I succeeded in

persuading my companion it would not be wisest to break ground by flogging

the attorney--a procedure to which he was strongly inclined. It was

settled, however, he was at once to declare himself to be Mrs. Wetmore's

son, and to demand his explanations in that character; one that would

clearly give him every claim to be heard.

"I know what these usurers, as you call 'em, Miles, must be," said the

mate. "They are a sort of in-shore pawn-brokers; and the Lord have mercy

on them, for I'll have none. I've had occasion to pawn a watch, or a

quadrant, in my time; and bloody poor prices does a fellow get for his

goods and chattels. Yes, yes; I'll let the old gentleman know, at once,

I'm Van Duzer Oloff Marble Wetmore Moses, or whatever's my name; and will

stand up for the right in a fashion that will surprise him: but what are

you to do in the mean time?"

It struck me, if I could get Marble to attempt practising a sort of

_ruse_, it would have the effect to prevent his resorting to club-law,

towards which I knew he had a strong natural disposition, and of which I

was still a little afraid. With this object, then, I conceived the

following scheme.

"You shall simply introduce me as Mr. Miles Wallingford," I said, "but in

a formal manner, that may induce this Mr. Van Tassel to-imagine I'm a sort

of lawyer; and this may have the effect to awe him, and bring him to terms

the easier. Do not _say_ I am a lawyer, for that will not be true, and it

will also be awkward falling back when the truth comes to be known."

Marble took the idea, and seemed pleased with it, though he affirmed that

there could be no such thing as acting lawyer without lying a little, and

that "the truth was too good for one of your bloody usurers." I got him

trained, however, by the time we reached the door; and we alighted as well

prepared for our task as could be expected.

There was nothing about the residence of 'Squire Van Tassel to denote the

grasping money-dealer, unless a certain negligence of the exterior might

be supposed to betray the abode of such a man. His friends wished to

ascribe this to an indifference to appearances; but the multitude, more

accurately imputed it to parsimony. When the very soul gets to be

absorbed in the process of rolling gold over and over, in order to make it

accumulate, the spirit grudges the withdrawal of the smallest fraction

from the gainful pursuit; and here lies the secret of the disdain of

appearances that is so generally to be met with in this description of

persons. Beyond this air of negligence, however, the dwelling of Van

Tassel was not to be distinguished from those of most of the better houses

of that part of the country. Our application for admission was favourably

received, and, in a minute, we were shown into the attorney's office.

'Squire Van Tassel, as this man was universally termed, eyed us keenly as

we entered, no doubt with a view to ascertain if we were borrowers. I

might possibly have passed for one of that character, for I aimed at

looking serious and thoughtful; but I would defy any man to mistake Moses

for one who came on such an errand. He looked more like a messenger sent

by the Father of Sin, to demand the payment of a certain bond that had

been signed in blood, and of which the fatal pay-day had at length

arrived. I had to give the skirt of his coat a pull, in order to recall

him to our agreement, else I do think the first salutation received by the

attorney, would have been a broadside in anything but words. The hint

succeeded, and Marble permitted our host to open the communications.

Squire Van Tassel had a very miserly exterior. He even looked ill fed;

though doubtless this appearance was more a consequence of habit of body,

than of short-feeding. He wore spectacles with black rims, and had the

common practice of looking over them at objects at a distance, which gave

him an air still more watchful than that which he imbibed from character.

His stature was small, and his years about sixty, an age when the

accumulation of money begins to bring as much pain as pleasure; for it is

a period of life when men cannot fail to see the termination of their

earthly schemes. Of all the passions, however, avarice is notoriously that

which the latest loosens its hold on the human heart.

"Your servant, gentlemen," commenced the attorney, in a manner that was

civil enough; "your servant; I beg you to help yourselves to chairs." We

all three took seats, at this invitation. "A pleasant evening," eyeing us

still more keenly over his glasses, "and weather that is good for the

crops. If the wars continue much longer in Europe," another look over the

glasses, "we shall sell all the substance out of our lands, in order to

send the belligerents wheat. I begin to look on real estate security as

considerably less valuable than it was, when hostilities commenced in

1793, and as daily growing less and less so."

"Ay, you may say that," Marble bluntly answered; "particularly the farms

of widows and orphans."

The "'Squire" was a little startled at this unexpected reply. He looked

intently at each of us again, over the spectacles; and then asked, in a

manner divided between courtesy and authority--

"May I inquire your names, and the object of this visit?"

"Sartain," said Marble. "That's reasonable and your right. We are not

ashamed of our names, nor of our errand. As for the last, Mr. Van Tassell,

you'll know it sooner than you will wish to know it; but, to begin at the

right end, this gentleman with me, is Mr. Miles Wallingford, a partic'lar

friend of old Mrs. Wetmore, who lives a bit down the road yonder, at a

farm called Willow Grove; 'Squire Wallingford, sir, is _her_ friend, and

_my_ friend, and I've great pleasure in making you acquainted with him."

"I am happy to see the gentleman," answered Van Tassel, taking another

look, while at the same time he glanced his eye at an alphabetical list of

the attorneys and counsellors, to see what place I occupied among them.

"Very happy to see the gentleman, who has quite lately commenced practice,

I should think by his age, and my not remembering the name."

"There must be a beginning to all things, Mr. Van Tassel," I replied, with

a calmness that I could see the old usurer did not like.

"Very true, sir, and I hope your future success will be in proportion to

the lateness of your appearance at the bar. Your companion has much more

the air of a sailor than of a lawyer."--This was true enough, there being

no mistaking Marble's character, though I had put on a body-coat to come

ashore in;--"I presume _he_ is not in the practice."

"That remains to be seen, sir." answered Marble. "Having told you my

friend's name, Mr. Van Tassel, I will now tell you my own. I am called

Moses Marble Wetmore Van Duser Oloff, sir, or some such bloody thing; and

you're welcome to take your pick out of the whole list. I'll answer to

either of them aliases."

"This is so extraordinary and unusual, gentlemen, I scarce know what to

make of it. Has this visit any connection with Mrs. Wetmore, or her farm,

or the mortgage I have been foreclosing on the last?"

"It has, sir; and I am that Mrs. Wetmore's son--yes sir, the only child of

that dear, good, old soul."

"The son of Mrs. Wetmore!" exclaimed Van Tassel, both surprised and

uneasy. "I knew there _was_ a son; but I have been always told it was

impossible to find him. I see no resemblance, sir, in you to either George

Wetmore, or Kitty Van Duser."

Now this was not altogether true. As for George Wetmore, they who had

known him in middle age, afterwards declared that Moses did resemble him

greatly; while I, myself, could trace in the mouth and milder expression

of the mate's features, a strong likeness to the subdued character of his

aged mother's face. This resemblance would not have been observed, in all

probability, without a knowledge of the affinity that existed between the

parties; but, with that knowledge, it was not easy to overlook.

"Resemblance!" repeated Marble, much in the tone of one who is ready to

quarrel on the slightest provocation; "how should there be any

resemblance, after the life I've led. In the first place, I was carried

out of my mother's sight in less than ten days after I was born. Then I

was placed on a tombstone, by way of encouragement; after which, they sent

me to live among paupers. I ran away at ten years old, and went to sea,

where I've played the part of man-of-war's-man, privateer's-man, smuggler,

mate, master, and all hands; everything, in short, but a pirate and

mutineer. I've been a bloody hermit, Mr. Van Tassel, and if that won't

take the resemblance to anything human out of a fellow, his face is as

unchangeable as that on a gold coin."

"All this, Mr. Wallingford, is so unintelligible to me, that I shall have

to ask you to explain it."

I can only add to it, sir, my belief that every word you hear is true. I

am satisfied that this is, in a legal sense, Oloff Van Duser Wetmore, the

only surviving child of George Wetmore and Catharine Van Duser. He has

come to see you in relation to a claim you are said to hold against the

farm his mother inherited from her parents."

"_Said_ to hold!--I certainly do hold George Wetmore's bond, secured by a

mortgage signed by his wife, balance due, including interest and costs,

$963.42; and I am proceeding to sell, under the statute. One sale has been

postponed, to oblige the widow; for a merciful man would not wish to press

a single and aged woman, though I've lain out of my money a very long

time. You are aware, sir, that I lose all my interest on interest, and

must take up with just what the law will give; hardship enough in active

times like these, when not a day passes that something good does not offer

in the way of purchasing the best of securities, at liberal discounts.

Trade is so lively, now, Mr. Wallingford, that men will almost sell their

souls for money."

"I rather think, sir, that some men will do this at all times; nay, do it

hourly, daily. But, I am instructed"--I could not help acting the counsel

a little, on the occasion--"I am instructed that the bond of George

Wetmore is paid in full."

"How can that be, sir, while I still hold bond and mortgage? As a business

man, you must understand the value to be attached to the idle tales of

women, and can see the danger of taking _their_ gossip for authority.

George Wetmore had some knowledge of business, and would not be likely to

pay his bond without taking it up, or at least of obtaining a receipt;

much less leave the mortgage on record."

"I am informed he did take your receipt, though he presumes he must have

lost it with a missing pocket-book, which his widow supposes to have been

dropped from his coat, the very day he returned from the court where he

met you, and where he says he paid you the money, being anxious to stop

interest as soon as possible."

"A very idle story, and one you do not suppose the chancellor will

believe, confirmed by the _hearsay_ of the party interested in preserving

the property. You are aware, sir, that the sale can be stopped only by an

injunction from the Court of Chancery."

Now, I was certainly no lawyer; but, like almost every American, I knew

something of that branch of the jurisprudence of the country, which

touched my own interests. As a land-holder, I had a little knowledge of the

law of real estate, and was not absolutely ignorant of the manner in which

matters were managed in that most searching of all tribunals, the Court of

Chancery. A lucky thought suggested itself to my mind on the instant, and

I made use of it on the spur of the moment.

"It is quite true, sir," I answered, "that any prudent judge might

hesitate about entering a decree on authority no better than the oath of

Mrs. Wetmore that she had heard her husband say he had paid the money; but

you will remember that the party replying has to swear to his answer. All

of us might be better satisfied in this affair, were you to make oath that

the money was never paid."

This hit told; and from that moment I did not entertain a doubt that

Wetmore had paid the money, and that Van Tassel retained a perfect

recollection of the whole affair. This much I could read in the man's

altered countenance and averted eye, though my impressions certainly were

not proof. If not proof, however, for a court of justice, they served to

enlist me earnestly in the pursuit of the affair, into which I entered

warmly from that moment. In the meantime, I waited for Van Tassel's

answer, watching his countenance the whole time, with a vigilance that I

could easily see caused him great embarrassment.

"Kitty Wetmore and I were born neighbours' children," he said; "and this

mortgage has given me more trouble than all the rest of my little

possessions. That I have been in no hurry to foreclose is plain by the

length of time I've suffered to go by, without claiming my dues. I could

wait no longer, without endangering my rights, as there would be a

presumption of payment after twenty years, and a presumption that would

tell harder against me than old Kitty's oath. We are neighbours' children,

as I've said, nevertheless, and rather than push matters to extremities I

will consent to some sort of a compromise."

"And what sort of a compromise will be agreeable to your notions of

justice, Mr. Van Tassel?"

"Why, sir, as Kitty is old, it would be a sad thing to drive her from the

roof under which she was born. This I've said and thought from the first,

and say, _now_. Still, I cannot part with my property without a

compensation; though I'm willing to wait. I told Mrs. Wetmore, before

advertising, that if she would give a new bond, making all clear, and

giving me interest on the whole sum now due, I should be willing to grant

her time. I now propose, however, as the simplest way of settling the

affair, to accept from her a release of the equity of redemption, and to

grant her a lease, for her own life, on a nominal rent."

Even Marble knew enough to see the rank injustice of such an offer. In

addition to conceding the non-payment of the debt, it was securing to Van

Tassel, at no distant day, the quiet possession of the farm, for somewhat

less than one-third its value. I detected symptoms of an outbreak in the

mate, and was obliged to repress it by a sign, while I kept the discussion

in my own hands.

"Under such an arrangement, sir," I answered, "my friend here would be

literally selling his birthright for a mess of porridge."

"You will remember, Mr. Wallingford, that a mortgage sale, legally made,

is a ticklish thing, and the courts do not like to disturb one. This sale

will take place, this day week; and the title once passed, it will not be

so easy a matter to get it repassed. Mr. Wetmore, here, does not look like

a man ready to pay down a thousand dollars."

"We shall not run the risk of letting the title pass. I will buy the

property, myself, if necessary; and should it afterwards appear that the

money has been actually paid, we believe you are sufficiently secure for

principal, interest, and costs."

"You are young in the profession, Mr. Wallingford, and will come to learn

the folly of advancing money for your clients."

"I am not in the profession at all, sir, as you have erroneously supposed,

but am a ship-master; and Mr. Wetmore, or Marble, as he has hitherto been

called, is my mate. Still, we are none the worse provided with the means

of paying a thousand dollars--or twenty of them, should it be necessary."

"No lawyer!" cried Van Tassel, smiling grimly. "A couple of sailors about

to dispute the foreclosure of a mortgage! Famous justice we should get at

your hands, gentlemen! Well, well; I now see how it is, and that this has

only been an attempt to work on my sympathies for an old woman who has

been living on my money these twenty years. I rather think your $963.42,

will prove to be of the same quality as your law."

"And, yet, it struck me, Mr. Van Tassel, that you rather disliked the idea

of swearing to the truth of an answer to a certain bill in Chancery,

which, if I cannot draw, one Abraham Van Vechten, of Albany, can!"

"Abraham Van Vechten is skilful counsel, and an honest man, and is riot

likely to be employed in a cause that rests only on an old woman's

_hearsays_--and all to save her own farm!"

Marble could keep silence no longer. He told me afterwards, that, during

the dialogue, he had been taking the measure of the old usurer's foot, and

felt it would be a disgrace to strike so feeble a creature; but, to sit

and hear his newly-found mother sneered at, and her just rights derided,

was more than his patience could endure. Rising abruptly, therefore, he

broke out at once in one of the plainest philippics of the sea. I shall

not repeat all he said; for, to render it justly, might be to render it

offensive; but, in addition to calling old Van Tassel by a great many

names that were as unusual as they were quaint, he called him by several

that would be familiar to the ears of most of my readers, besides being

perfectly well merited. I allowed his humour to find vent; and, giving the

attorney to understand he should hear further from us, I succeeded in

getting my companion to the wagon, without coming to blows. I could see

that Van Tassel was very far from being at his ease, and that he would

still gladly keep us, if he could, in the hope of bringing about some sort

of a compromise, if possible; but I thought it wisest to let matters rest

awhile, after the decided demonstration we had already made.

It was not an easy matter to get Marble into the vehicle; but this was no

sooner effected, than I trotted him off, down the road, taking the

direction of the house where we had been told to seek Kitty Huguenin, old

Mrs. Wetmore's grand-daughter, who would be waiting the appearance of the

chaise, in order to return home.

"You must put on a more amicable look," said I to the mate, as we went on

our way, "or you'll frighten your niece; with whom, you will remember, you

are about to make an acquaintance."

"The cheating vagabond, to take advantage of a poor, lonely, old woman,

whose only husband was in the grave, and only son at sea!" the mate

continued to mutter. "Talk about the commandments! I should like to know

what commandment this was breaking. The whole six, in a batch."

"The tenth, I am inclined to think, my friend; and that is a commandment

broken all day, and every day."

The denunciations of the mate continued for some time longer, and then

went off like the rumbling of distant thunder in the heavens after the

passage of the gust.

Miles Wallingford Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore" · 第 3 / 30 章