The master smiled, like one who knew more than he expressed, and gravely shook his head.
“We may have many pulls on our bowlines, and some squaring of yards, too, before the Coquette (the figure-head of the sloop-of-war was also a female) gets near enough to the dark-faced woman, under the bowsprit of the brigantine, to whisper her mind. You and I have been nigh enough to see the white of her eyes, and to count the teeth she shows, in that cunning grin of hers,–and what good has come of our visit? I am but a subordinate, Captain Ludlow, and I know my duty too well not to be silent in a squall, and I hope too well not to know how to speak when my commander wishes the opinions of his officers at a council; and therefore mine, just now, is perhaps different from that of some others in this ship, that I will not name, who are good men, too, though none of the oldest.”
“And what is thy opinion, Trysail?–the ship is doing well, and she carries her canvas bravely.”
“The ship behaves like a well-bred young woman in the presence of the Queen; modest, but stately– but, of what use is canvas, in a chase where witch-craft breeds squalls, and shortens sail in one vessel, while it gives flying kites to another! If Her Majesty, God bless her! should be ever persuaded to do so silly a thing as to give old Tom Trysail a ship, and the said ship lay, just here-a-way, where the Coquette is now getting along so cleverly, why then, as in duty bound, I know very well what her commander would do–”
“Which would be–?”
“To, in all studding-sails, and bring the vessel on the wind.”
“That would be to carry you to the southward, while the chase lies here in the eastern board!”
“Who can say, how long she will lie there? They told us, in York, that there was a Frenchman, of our burthen and metal, rummaging about among the fishermen, lower down on the coast. Now, Sir, no man knows that the war is half over better than myself, for not a ha’penny of prize-money has warmed my pocket, these three years;–but, as I was saying, if a Frenchman will come off his ground, and will run his ship into troubled water, why–whose fault is it but his own? A pretty affair might be made out of such a mistake, Captain Ludlow; whereas running after yonder brigantine, is flapping out the Queen’s canvas for nothing. The vessel’s bottom will want new sheathing, in my poor opinion, before you catch him.”
“I know not, Trysail,” returned his captain, glancing an eye aloft; “every thing draws, and the ship never went along with less trouble to herself. We shall not know which has the longest legs, till the trial is made.”
“You may judge of the rogue’s speed by his impudence. There he lies, waiting for us, like a line-of-battle ship lying-to for an enemy to come down. Though a man of some experience in my way, I have never seen a lord’s son more sure of promotion, than that same brigantine seems to be of his heels! If this old Frenchman goes on with his faces much longer, he will turn himself inside-out, and then we shall get an honest look at him, for these fellows never carry their true characters above-board, like a fair-dealing Englishman. Well, Sir, as I was remarking, yon rover, if rover he be, has more faith in his canvas than in the church. I make no doubt, Captain Ludlow, that the brigantine went through the inlet, while we were handing our topsails yesterday; for I am none of those who are in a hurry to give credit to any will-o’-the-wisp tale; besides which, I sounded the passage with my own hands, and know the thing to be possible, with the wind blowing heavy over the taffrail; still, Sir, human nature is human nature, and what is the oldest seaman, after all, but a man?–And so to conclude, I would rather any day chase a Frenchman, whose disposition is known to me, than have the credit of making traverses, for eight-and-forty hours, in the wake of one of these flyers, with little hope of getting him within hail.”
“You forget, Master Trysail, that I have been aboard the chase, and know something of his build and character.”
“They say as much aboard, here,” returned the old tar, drawing nearer to the person of his captain, under an impulse of strong curiosity; “though none presume to be acquainted with the particulars. I am not one of those who ask impertinent questions, more especially under Her Majesty’s pennant; for the worst enemy I have will not say I am very womanish. One would think, however, that there was neat work on board a craft that is so prettily moulded about her water-lines?”
“She is perfect as to construction, and admirable in gear.”
“I thought as much, by instinct! Her commander need not, however, be any the more sure of keeping her off the rocks, on that account. The prettiest young woman in our parish was wrecked, as one might say, on the shoals of her own good looks, having cruised once too often in the company of the squire’s son. A comely wench she was, though she luffed athwart all her old companions, when the young lord of the manor fell into her wake. Well, she did bravely enough, Sir, as long as she could carry her flying kites, and make a fair wind of it; but when the squall of which I spoke, overtook her, what could she do but keep away before it?–and as others, who are snugger in their morals hove-to as it were, under the storm-sails of religion and such matters as they had picked up in the catechism, she drifted to leeward of all honest society! A neatly-built and clean-heeled hussy was that girl; and I am not certain, by any means, that Mrs. Trysail would this day call herself the lady of a Queen’s officer, had the other known how to carry sail in the company of her betters.”
The worthy master drew a long breath, which possibly was a nautical sigh, but which certainly had more of the north wind than of the zephyr in its breathing; and he had recourse to the little box of iron, whence he usually drew consolation.
“I have heard of this accident before;” returned Ludlow, who had sailed as a midshipman in the same vessel with, and indeed as a subordinate to, his present inferior. “But, from all accounts, you have little reason to regret the change, as I hear the best character of your present worthy partner.”
“No doubt, Sir, no doubt.–I defy any man in the ship to say that I am a backbiter, even against my wife, with whom I have a sort of lawful right to deal candidly. I make no complaints, and am a happy man at sea, and I piously hope Mrs. Trysail knows how to submit to her duty at home.–I suppose you see, Sir, that the chase has hauled his yards, and is getting his fore-tack aboard?” Ludlow, whose eye did not often turn from the brigantine, nodded assent; and the master, having satisfied himself, by actual inspection, that every sail in the Coquette did its duty, continued –“The night is coming on thick, and we shall have occasion for all our eyes to keep the rogue in view, when he begins to change his bearings–but, as I was saying, if the commander of yonder half-rig is too vain of her good looks, he may yet wreck her, in his pride! The rogue has a desperate character as a smuggler, though, for my own part, I cannot say that I look on such men with as unfavorable an eye as some others. This business of trade seems to be a sort of chase between one man’s wits and another man’s wits, and the dullest goer must be content to fall to leeward. When it comes to be a question of revenue, why, he who goes free is lucky, and he who is caught, a prize. I have known a flag-officer look the other way, Captain Ludlow, when his own effects were passing duty-free; and as to your admiral’s lady, she is a great patroness of the contraband. I do not deny, Sir, that a smuggler must be caught, and when caught, condemned, after which there must be a fair distribution among the captors; but all that I mean to say is, that there are worse men in the world than your British smuggler–such, for instance, as your Frenchman, your Dutchman, or your Don.”
“These are heretodox opinions for a Queen’s servant;” said Ludlow, as much inclined to smile as to frown.
“I hope I know my duty too well to preach them to the ship’s company, but a man may say that, in a philosophical way, before his captain, that he would not let run into a midshipman’s ear. Though no lawyer, I know what is meant by swearing a witness to the truth and nothing but the truth. I wish the Queen got the last, God bless her! several wornout ships would then be broken up, and better vessels sent to sea in their places. But, Sir, speaking in a religious point of view, what is the difference between passing in a trunk of finery, with a duchess’s name on the brass plate, or in passing in gin enough to fill a cutter’s hold?”