It has been seen that Alderman Van Beverout had appointed this solitary oak, as the place of rendezvous with François. Thither then he took his way on parting from the valet, and to this spot we must now transfer the scene. A rude seat had been placed around the root of the tree, and here the whole party, with the exception of the absent domestic, were soon seated. In a minute, however, they were joined by the exulting François, who immediately related the particulars of his recent interview with the stranger.
“A clear conscience, with cordial friends, and a fair balance-sheet, may keep a man warm in January, even in this climate,” said the Alderman, willing to turn the discourse; “but what with rebellious blacks, hot streets, and spoiling furs, it passeth mortal powers to keep cool in yonder overgrown and crowded town. Thou seest, Patroon, the spot of white on the opposite side of the bay.–Breezes and fanning! that is the Lust in Rust, where cordial enters the mouth at every breath, and where a man has room to cast up the sum-total of his thoughts, any hour in the twenty-four.”
“We seem quite as effectually alone on this hill, with the advantage of having a city in the view,” remarked Alida, with an emphasis that showed she meant even more than she expressed.
“We are by ourselves, niece of mine,” returned the Alderman, rubbing his hands as if he secretly felicitated himself that the fact were so. “That truth cannot be denied, and good company we are, though the opinion comes from one who is not a cipher in the party. Modesty is a poor man’s wealth. but as we grow substantial in the world, Patroon, one can afford to begin to speak truth of himself, as well as of his neighbor.”
“In which case, little, but good, will be uttered from the mouth of Alderman Van Beverout,” said Ludlow, appearing so suddenly from behind the root of the tree, as effectually to shut the mouth of the burgher. “My desire to offer the services of the ship to your party, has led to this abrupt intrusion, and I hope will obtain its pardon.”
“The power to forgive is a prerogative of the Governor, who represents the Queen,” drily returned the Alderman. “If Her Majesty has so little employment for her cruisers, that their captains can dispose of them, in behalf of old men and young maidens–why, happy is the age, and commerce should flourish!”
“If the two duties are compatible, the greater the reason why a commander should felicitate himself, that he may be of service to so many. You are bound to the Jersey Highlands, Mr. Van Beverout?”
“I am bound to a comfortable and very private abode, called the Lust in Rust, Captain Cornelius Van Cuyler Ludlow.”
The young man bit his lip, and his healthful but brown cheek flushed a deeper red than common, though he preserved his composure.
“And I am bound to sea,” he soon said. “The wind is getting fresh, and your boat, which I see, at this moment, standing in for the islands, will find it difficult to make way against its force. The Coquette’s anchor will be aweigh, in twenty minutes; and I shall find two hours of an ebbing tide, and a top-gallant breeze, but too short a time for the pleasure of entertaining such guests. I am certain that the fears of la Belle will favor my wishes, whichsoever side of the question her inclinations may happen to be.”
“And they are with her uncle;” quickly returned Alida. “I am so little of a sailor, that prudence, if not pusillanimity, teaches me to depend on the experience of older heads.”
“Older I may not pretend to be,” said Ludlow, coloring;” but Mr. Van Beverout will see no pretension in believing myself as good a judge of wind and tide, as even he himself can be.”
“You are said to command Her Majesty’s sloop with skill, Captain Ludlow, and it is creditable to the colony, that it has produced so good an officer; though I believe your grandfather came into the province, so lately as on the restoration of King Charles the Second?”
“We cannot claim descent from the United Provinces, Alderman Van Beverout, on the paternal side; but whatever may have been the political opinions of my grandfather, those of his descendant have never been questioned. Let me entreat the fair Alida to take counsel of the apprehension I am sure she feels, and to persuade her uncle that the Coquette is safer than his periagua.”
“It is said to be easier to enter than to quit your ship,” returned the laughing Alida. “By certain symptoms that attended our passage to the island, your Coquette, like others, is fond of conquest. One is not safe beneath so malign an influence.”
“This is a reputation given by our enemies. I had hoped for a different answer from la belle Barbérie.”
The close of the sentence was uttered with an emphasis that caused the blood to quicken its movement in the veins of the maiden. It was fortunate that neither of their companions was very observant, or else suspicions might have been excited, that a better intelligence existed between the young sailor and the heiress, than would have comported with their wishes and intentions.
“I had hoped for a different answer from la belle Barbérie,” repeated Ludlow, in a lower voice, but with even a still more emphatic tone than before.
There was evidently a struggle in the mind of Alida.–She overcame it, before her confusion could be noted; and, turning to the valet, she said, with the composure and grace that became a gentlewoman–
“Rends moi le livre, François.”
“Le voici–ah! ma chère Mam’selle Alide, que ce Monsieur le marin se fâchait à cause de la gloire, et des beaux vers de notre illustre M. Pierre Corneille!”
“Here is an English sailor, that I am sure will not deny the merit of an admired writer, even though he come of a nation that is commonly thought hostile, François,” returned his mistress, smiling. “Captain Ludlow, it is now a month since I am your debtor, by promise, for a volume of Corneille, and I here acquit myself of the obligation. When you have perused the contents of this book, with the attention they deserve, I may hope–”
“For a speedy opinion of their merits.”
“I was about to say, to receive the volume again, as it is a legacy from my father,” steadily rejoined Alida.
“Legacies and foreign tongues!” muttered the Alderman. “One is well enough; but for the other, English and Dutch are all that the wisest man need learn. I never could understand an account of profit and loss in any other tongue, Patroon; and even a favorable balance never appears so great as it is, unless the account be rendered in one or the other of these rational dialects. Captain Ludlow, we thank you for your politeness, but here is one of my fellows to tell us that my own periagua is arrived; and, wishing you a happy and a long cruise, as we say of lives, I bid you, adieu.”
The young seaman returned the salutations of the party, with a better grace than his previous solicitude to persuade them to enter his ship, might have given reason to expect. He even saw them descend the hill, towards the water of the outer bay, with entire composure; and it was only after they had entered a thicket which hid them from view, that he permitted his feelings to have sway.
Then indeed he drew the volume from his pocket, and opened its leaves with an eagerness he could no longer control. It seemed as if he expected to read more, in the pages, than the author had caused to be placed there; but when his eye caught sight of a sealed billet, the legacy of M. de Barbérie fell at his feet; and the paper was torn asunder, with all the anxiety of one who expected to find in its contents a decree of life or death.
Amazement was clearly the first emotion of the young seaman. He read and re-read; struck his brow with his hand; gazed about him at the land and at the water; re-perused the note; examined the superscription, which was simply to ‘Capt. Ludlow, of Her Majesty’s ship Coquette:’ smiled; muttered between his teeth; seemed vexed, and yet delighted; read the note again, word by word, and finally thrust it into his pocket, with the air of a man who had found reason for both regret and satisfaction in its contents.
CHAPTER VI.
“–What, has this thing appeared again, to-night?”
“The face of man is the log-book of his thoughts, and Captain Ludlow’s seems agreeable,” observed a voice, that came from one, who was not far from the commander of the Coquette, while the latter was still enacting the pantomime described in the close of the preceding chapter.