“We thought to start in the favor of the church, which rarely frowns on those who respect its privileges. Under the sanction of such authority, I will lay aside all that remains, certain it will be needed for thy use.”
“So rare a manufacture should be costly?”
La belle Barbérie spoke hesitatingly, and as she raised her eyes, they met the dark organs of her companion, fixed on her face, in a manner that seemed to express a consciousness of the ascendency he was gaining. Startled, at she knew not what, the maiden again added hastily–
“This may be fitter for a court lady, than a girl of the colonies.”
“None who have yet worn of it, so well become it;–I lay it here, as a make-weight in my bargain with the Alderman.–This is satin of Tuscany; a country where nature exhibits its extremes, and one whose merchants were princes. Your Florentine was subtle in his fabrics, and happy in his conceits of forms and colors, for which he stood indebted to the riches of his own climate. Observe–the hue of this glossy surface is scarcely so delicate as I have seen the rosy light, at even, playing on the sides of his Apennines!”
“You have then visited the regions, in whose fabrics you deal?” said Alida, suffering the articles to fall from her hand, in the stronger interest she began to feel in their owner.
“’Tis my habit. Here have we a chain from the city of the Isles. The hand of a Venetian could alone form these delicate and nearly insensible links. I refused a string of spotless pearls for that same golden web.”
“It was indiscreet, in one who trades at so much hazard.”
“I kept the bauble for my pleasure!–Whim is sometimes stronger than the thirst of gain; and this chain does not quit me, till I bestow it on the lady of my love.”
“One so actively employed can scarcely spare time to seek a fitting object for the gift.”
“Is merit and loveliness in the sex, so rare? La belle Barbérie speaks in the security of many conquests, or she would not deal thus lightly, in a matter that is so serious with most females.”
“Among other countries your vessel hath visited a land of witchcraft, or you would not pretend to a knowledge of things, that, in their very nature, must be hidden from a stranger.–Of what value may be those beautiful feathers of the ostrich?”
“They came of swarthy Africa, though so spotless themselves. The bunch was had, by secret traffic, from a Moorish man, in exchange for a few skins of Lachrymæ Christi, that he swallowed with his eyes shut. I dealt with the fellow, only in pity for his thirst, and do not pride myself on the value of the commodity. It shall go, too, to quicken love between me and thy uncle.”
Alida could not object to this liberality, though she was not without a secret opinion that the gifts were no more than delicate and well-concealed offerings to herself. The effect of this suspicion was two-fold; it caused the maiden to become more reserved in the expression of her tastes, though it in no degree lessened her confidence in, and admiration of, the wayward and remarkable trader.
“My uncle will have cause to commend thy generous spirit,” said the heiress, bending her head a little coldly, at this repeated declaration of her companion’s intentions, “though it would seem that, in trade, justice is as much to be desired as generosity; –this seemeth a curious design, wrought with the needle!”
“It is the labor of many a day, fashioned by the hand of a recluse. I bought it of a nun, in France, who passed years in toil, upon the conceit, which is of more value than the material. The meek daughter of solitude wept when she parted with the fabric, for, in her eyes, it had the tie of association and habit. A companion might be lost to one who lives in the confusion of the world, and it should not cause more real sorrow, than parting from the product of her needle, gave that mild resident of the cloisters!”
“And is it permitted for your sex to visit those places of religious retirement?” asked Alida. “I come of a race that pays little deference to monastic life, for we are refugees from the severity of Louis; but yet I never heard my father charge these females with being so regardless of their vows.”
“The fact was so repeated to me; for, surely, my sex are not admitted to traffic, directly, with the modest sisters;” (a smile, that Alida was half-disposed to think bold, played about the handsome mouth of the speaker) “but it was so reported. What is your opinion of the merit of woman, in thus seeking refuge from the cares, and haply from the sins, of the world, in institutions of this order.”
“Truly the question exceedeth my knowledge. This is not a country to immure females, and the custom causes us of America little thought.”
“The usage hath its abuses,” continued the dealer in contraband, speaking thoughtfully; “but it is not without its good. There are many of the weak and vain, that would be happier in the cloisters, than if left to the seductions and follies of life.–Ah! here is work of English hands. I scarcely know how the articles found their way into the company of the products of the foreign looms. My bales contain, in general, little that is vulgarly sanctioned by the law. Speak me, frankly, belle Alida, and say if you share in the prejudices against the character of us freetraders?”
“I pretend not to judge of regulations that exceed the knowledge and practices of my sex,” returned the maiden, with commendable reserve. “There are some who think the abuse of power a justification of its resistance, while others deem a breach of law to be a breach of morals.”
“The latter is the doctrine of your man of invested moneys and established fortune! He has entrenched his gains behind acknowledged barriers, and he preaches their sanctity, because they favor his selfishness. We skimmers of the sea–”
Alida started so suddenly, as to cause her companion to cease speaking.
“Are my words frightful, that you pale at their sound?”
“I hope they were used rather in accident, than with their dreaded meaning. I would not have it said–no! ’tis but a chance that springs from some resemblance in your callings. One, like you, can never be the man whose name has grown into a proverb!”
“One like me, beautiful Alida, is much as fortune wills. Of what man, or of what name, wouldst speak?”
“’Tis nothing,” returned la belle Barbérie, gazing unconsciously at the polished and graceful features of the stranger, longer than was wont in maiden. “Proceed with your explanation;–these are rich velvets!”
“They come of Venice, too; but commerce is like the favor which attends the rich, and the Queen of the Adriatic is already far on the decline. That which causes the increase of the husbandman, occasions the downfall of a city. The lagunes are filling with fat soil, and the keel of the trader is less frequent there than of old. Ages hence, the plow may trace furrows where the Bucentaur has floated! The outer India passage has changed the current of prosperity, which ever rushes in the widest and newest track. Nations might learn a moral, by studying the sleepy canals and instructive magnificence of that fallen town; but pride fattens on its own lazy recollections, to the last!–As I was saying, we rovers deal little in musty maxims, that are made by the great and prosperous at home, and are trumpeted abroad, in order that the weak and unhappy should be the more closely riveted in their fetters.”
“Methinks you push the principle further than is necessary, for one whose greatest offence against established usage is a little hazardous commerce. These are opinions, that might unsettle the world.”
“Rather settle it, by referring all to the rule of right. When governments shall lay their foundations in natural justice, when their object shall be to remove the temptations to err, instead of creating them, and when bodies of men shall feel and acknowledge the responsibilities of individuals–why, then the Water-Witch, herself, might become a revenue-cutter, and her owner an officer of the customs!”
The velvet fell from the hands of la bella Barbérie, and she arose from her seat with precipitation.
“Speak plainly,” said Alida, with all her natural firmness. “With whom am I about to traffic?”
“An outcast of society–a man condemned in the opinions of the world–the outlaw–the flagrant wanderer of the ocean–the lawless ‘Skimmer of the Seas!’ ” cried a voice, at the open window.
In another minute, Ludlow was in the room. Alida uttered a shriek, veiled her face in her robe, and rushed from the apartment.
CHAPTER XI.
“–Truth will come to light; Murder cannot be hid long, a man’s son may;