*Othario*. Remove the prisoner; the foe is near.
_The Sea Witch_.
He manned himself with dauntless air,
Returned the chief his haughty stare.
* * * * *
Come one, come all!
* * * * *
Fear nought--nay, that I need not say--
But doubt not aught from mine array.
Thou art my guest.
_Lady of the Lake_.
More than a week passed, and still John Coe was a prisoner at the old
manor house. No chance of escape presented itself; and neither offers
of money nor threats affected his guards. Yet, but for the name of
captivity, and the thought of what might be in store for him in the
future, his time would have passed pleasantly. Miss Ada Revere--as the
lady chose to call herself--exerted all her talents and accomplishments
to cause his time to pass agreeably. Games at chess and cards, books of
poetry and romance, music of the guitar, and songs sung with charming
taste, and accompanied by that fascinating instrument, varied her day
and evening entertainments for the prisoner.
As great as was the interest which he felt in her who made his captivity
pleasant, and as much aroused, therefore, as was his curiosity to know
what was meant by her declaration that he and she had known each other
in earlier days, he could not induce her to tell him to what she
referred; he could only obtain from her the promise that she would at
some future time make him acquainted with her history.
Miss Ada Revere had been commissioned by those who held John in
captivity, not only to make his imprisonment more bearable, but also to
endeavour to persuade him to join Captain Vance's band. In the former
task the reader has seen that she was successful; but the latter seemed
to her to be so hopeless, that she did not even attempt it; she
contented herself by persuading him to yield so far to circumstances as
to pretend to be inclined to join them, that he might by such means have
some chance of securing an opportunity to escape. The violent
indignation--to call the feeling by a mild name--which young Coe
entertained against his pretended friends, Marston and Dempster, he made
no secret of to the lady; but the earnest desire which he cherished to
have each of them before him at the pistol's mouth, or at the sword's
point, he kept to himself.
Some ten or twelve days after that upon which young Coe had been so
skilfully allured to imprisonment at the old manor house, the brig
_Sea-bird_ Captain Henry Marston, dropped anchor off the Eltonhead
landing. She had needed no repairs, and her unlading and relading in
Baltimore had been executed with the greatest despatch.
Without resistance John allowed himself to be taken from the manor house
on board the brig. Where opposition would have been certainly
unavailing, the attempt to make it would have been only a compromise of
his dignity.
As the moon was in its first quarter, that orb had long since set when
the long-boat and jolly-boat belonging to the brig returned from the
shore to the vessel, both heavily laden with the men who had been left
at the manor house--those in the smaller boat having young Coe among
them as prisoner. A single lantern, held by one of the seamen at the
gangway, showed but a dim outline of the deck and rigging of the brig,
as those newly arrived climbed her sides. John had but a short time to
make observations, as he was at once hurried down into the after-cabin,
and through that into a small and neat state-room forward of it. He
parted with Miss Ada Revere immediately on gaining the deck. There was
much expression of pain and uneasiness in the face of the mysterious
young girl when she shook hands, on parting with the prisoner at the
gangway, and whispered to him "Be firm and hopeful, and do not give way
to anger, however just."
When all had embarked, the boats were secured on deck, the anchor
lifted, the sails hoisted, and the brig, impelled by a fair and light
but freshening breeze from the north, sped on her course over the broad,
bold waters of the Chesapeake towards the wide Atlantic.
When a bright and cloudless morning, near the middle of June, arose in
beauty over the wide and flashing expanse of the lower Chesapeake, Old
Point Comfort lay in sight, but far away on the starboard-bow. A number
of bay-craft, and a few sea-going vessels were scattered here and there,
at points nearer or more distant, over the bright surface. The smoke of
no steamer was seen; such vessels were at that period very rare, not
only on the waters of the Chesapeake, but over the whole world.
At this time, John was confined to his state-room; he had risen and
dressed, but, on trying the door of his room, had found it locked. None
of the seamen, either, except those consisting of the watch, were
allowed to come upon deck while the brig was in such confined waters;
such a large number of hands being seen would not comport with the
_Sea-bird's_ character of a peaceful merchant vessel.
The wind continuing to blow fair, although still somewhat light, the
afternoon had advanced but two or three hours when the brig had passed
out between the capes and was at sea, and entirely out of sight of land.
All were now allowed to come upon deck, John among them, to find upon
the quarter-deck Captains Marston and Dempster. Near to them stood Mr
Bowsprit, Mr Afton, and Ada Revere--the latter wearing her sailor-boy
dress. The rest of the crew were mostly on the deck amidships; some few
were in the bows, and a group was gathered but a little forward of the
quarter-deck.
"Well, John," said Captain Marston, "I hope that you have made up your
mind to join us. I can offer you a respectable position. We have very
nearly fifty men, all told. I shall form thirty of these into a company
of marines, and offer you the post of commander of this newly-made
corps. But, before I proceed any farther, let me introduce you to some
of your new shipmates. This old friend of ours, whom you know now, I
suppose, as my first-mate, Mr Dempster, becomes my first lieutenant,
Mr Seacome, when we enter the tropics; at the same time your humble
servant takes the more convenient name of Captain Vance, and this good
brig, the _Sea-bird_, becomes the _Falcon_--the free rover. This is my
second mate, Mr Afton, who prefers to change, under such circumstances,
his title only, and to be called Second-lieutenant Afton."
This burly and savage-looking individual growled an oath or two about
not being afraid of his own name.
"This joyous individual," continued the captain, motioning his hand
towards another of the party, "is my third-mate, or lieutenant, and
selects his _sobriquet_ for his roving name--that is, Third-mate Brown
becomes Third-lieutenant Bowsprit. You have already met this jolly
person. You are also, I presume, well acquainted by this time, with
this young gentleman, Master Revere, my clerk."
At mentioning this last name, Captain Marston, with a slightly sarcastic
expression of countenance, waved his hand towards Ada Revere. She cast
her eyes to the deck, and a vivid blush spread over her beautiful face.
Even in the midst of his own trouble, John could not help feeling pity
for the poor girl. Often had the questions recurred to him: "What is
her real position on board of this vessel? What is her history?"
Sympathy with her lonely condition and the wrongs which he felt that she
must have received from one leading member, at least, of the brig's
company, strengthened the indignation which he experienced on account of
his own injuries, and probably caused him to forget all prudence in
answering Captain Marston's addresses to him.
"You, Captain Marston," he said, in a firm and perfectly collected
manner, and with a certain intensity of voice which intimated that he
felt more than he spoke, "address me in calm tones and familiarly, as if
you had done me no wrong to destroy the intimacy and kind feelings which
existed between us in past years. In speaking thus, you add insult to
injury; your words, manner, and voice suggesting that I am so simple, so
very weak in intellect, as not to be able to appreciate the
inexpressibly gross outrage which has been committed against me."
"You do me wrong," said Captain Marston, "in supposing for a moment that
I doubt that you possess a very unusual degree of intellect. I have
always considered you one of the most remarkably endowed men, both in
mind and body, with whom I ever met. In what other manner could I have
spoken? and what was the use of my speaking with excitement? That you
must remain with us is a fixed fact. You have learned things the public
knowledge of which would ruin Mr Ashleigh, implicate--if an
investigation should take place--the character of some gentlemen of the
highest standing in Baltimore, or even endanger their safety--to say
nothing of the security and interests of those among whom you are now
standing. Self-preservation is the first law of nature; and you obliged
us to make and hold you a prisoner, by informing yourself wilfully of
secrets important to us, and of not the least concern to you. You have
yourself alone to blame for the situation in which you are placed."
"Every citizen," replied the spirited young man, "has not only a right,
but it is his duty, if an opportunity occurs, to investigate whatsoever
appears to him to be a breach of the laws of his country."
"That remark does not affect us at all," answered Marston, "although it
may have justified, to yourself and others, your curiosity and
interference. Our duty is to defend ourselves against the laws."
"With the view which you take of the matter," retorted John, feeling
offended and irritated by Marston's application to him of the words
"curiosity and interference," and determined to retort at all hazards to
language which appeared to him personally insulting, "I should not have
so much cause to complain had I been captured by open force; but my kind
feelings towards yourself were played upon in a treacherous and cowardly
manner to work out my own injury."
A dark and lowering scowl came upon the face of Captain Marston, and he
placed his right hand in his bosom as if to draw a weapon.
At the same instant Afton drew a pistol from one of his pockets and
raised it.
"Do you dare," he cried, "to call our captain a coward?"
Captain Marston, however, who seemed not yet to have overcome his rage
sufficiently to speak, suddenly grasped Afton's weapon, and drew it from
his hand.
"This is courage, truly!" said young Coe, with bitter irony expressed in
his voice, and addressing Afton. "You are _very_ brave in assaulting an
unarmed man. You would feel and act very differently if you and I were
alone, and equally armed."
"Captain," exclaimed Afton, "what is the use of bandying words with this
fool? Let us settle the matter at once by shooting him, and throwing
him overboard. We needn't fear his betraying us then. `Dead men tell
no tales.'"
"Leave him to me," said Captain Marston, moving his hand towards Afton.
Then, addressing John, he continued--"You take advantage, John Coe, of
our relative positions; you know that I, as a brave man, cannot, while
surrounded by my band, resent an insult from an unarmed prisoner. If I
am a smuggler--and, perhaps, even what you would call a pirate--you know
that I cannot so sacrifice my manhood as to take advantage of the means
at my command to punish the gross insult which you have offered me."
"If you boast so much of your manhood, which word also implies your
honour, such as it is," said John, "and feel so wounded at what I have
said, the same power which you possess over your band to bring them
against me, should also be strong enough to prevent them from
interfering while I render you the satisfaction for which you seem to
long. Here, in the sight of your men, with no friend to see what is
called fair play, I am willing to fight you with sword, pistol, or gun.
Yes, I will do so, even though they may kill me, should I defeat you,
the moment after; for I had as lief die as be debarred my liberty, or be
obliged to yield my actions to the expediency which is merely suggested
by opposing force."
"I thank you for your proposition," said Captain Vance, "and accept of
it. You shall have a fairer contest, too, than you seem to expect.
Here, Dempster, Afton, Brown."
The officers addressed drew around their captain.
"Promise me," said Marston, "by all the pledges that bind our
association together, that if Mr Coe should succeed in killing me, he
shall receive no injury for doing so; and further, that, upon his mere
pledge of honour to keep secret what he has learned about us, you will
land him at any port, near to our course, at which he may wish to
disembark. Promise, moreover, under the same pledges, that you will not
interfere in the combat about to take place between Mr Coe and myself,
by deed, word, or look."
The officers addressed, even the brutal Afton, gave the pledges required
unhesitatingly, being perfectly assured that their captain would gain
the victory.
"What weapons do you choose, Mr Coe?" asked Marston.
"It is for you to choose," said John; "you have the right as the
challenged party."
"I select swords, then," said Captain Marston; "the conqueror with that
weapon is not obliged to injure his adversary."
"You seem to consider it as granted, by that remark," observed our hero,
"that you will be successful?"
"By no means," answered Marston.
John turned upon his adversary an inquiring and rather threatening look;
but he said nothing more on the subject.
Lieutenant Dempster, or Seacome, was sent into the captain's cabin for a
pair of small-swords.
Ada Revere had looked imploringly upon Marston and Coe alternately,
while the quarrel had been growing to its present condition. Anxiety
and terror were both plainly expressed in her face; she had seemed,
hitherto, desirous of interfering, but fearful of doing so; no doubt she
had learned from much experience the danger of attempting to check
Captain Marston in any of his acts. Now the prospect of an immediate
conflict seemed to rouse her to action. She threw herself upon her
knees between the two foes.
"Oh! I beseech you," she cried, "let this quarrel go no farther. You
know, Captain Marston, why I feel an interest in you; but you do not
know that this gentleman, Mr Coe, rendered me, many years ago, one of
those services which can never be forgotten. Think, gentlemen, what
horror it would be to me to see one of you injured, or perhaps even
killed by the other, and have pity upon me."
John Coe raised her from her kneeling position with evident tenderness.
"I do not fully know what you mean, madam," he said, "and cannot,
therefore, make use of your meaning to put a stop to what is going on.
But I can feel for your evident suffering without knowing its cause."
"Master Revere," said Marston, with sadness and yet something of
sternness in his voice, "if I could, I would consult your feelings in
this matter. But what you say comes too late, even if it were fully
explained. Mr Brown, do me the favour to lead this young gentleman to
his state-room door."
Mr Bowsprit advanced, and taking the hand of Ada led her away. She
retired, still extending her disengaged hand towards the intended
combatants, with an imploring glance.