“I hope that others may not repent this obstinacy! But this is no time to bandy words; the duty of the ship requires my presence.”
Seadrift took the hint, and reluctantly retired to the cabin. As he left the poop, the moon rose above the line of water in the eastern board, and shed its light along the whole horizon. The crew of the Coquette were now enabled to see, with sufficient distinctness, from the sands of the Hook to the distance of many leagues to seaward. There no longer remained a doubt that the brigantine was still within the bay. Encouraged by this certainty, Ludlow endeavored to forget all motives of personal feeling, in the discharge of a duty that was getting to be more and more interesting, as the prospect of its successful accomplishment grew brighter.
It was not long before the Coquette reached the channel which forms the available mouth of the estuary. Here the ship was again brought to the wind, and men were sent upon the yards and all her more lofty spars, in order to overlook, by the dim and deceitful light, as much of the inner water as the eye could reach; while Ludlow, assisted by the master, was engaged in the same employment on the deck. Two or three midshipmen were included, among the common herd, aloft.
“There is nothing visible within,” said the captain, after a long and anxious search, with a glass. “The shadow of the Jersey mountains prevents the sight in that direction, while the spars of a frigate might be confounded with the trees of Staten Island, here, in the northern board.–Cross-jack-yard, there!”
The shrill voice of a midshipman answered to the hail.
“What do you make within the Hook, Sir?”
“Nothing visible. Our barge is pulling along the land, and the launch appears to be lying off the inlet; ay–here is the yawl, resting on its oars without the Romar; but we can find nothing which looks like the cutter, in the range of Coney.”
“Take another sweep of the glass more westward, and look well into the mouth of the Raritan,–mark you any thing in that quarter?”
“Ha!–here is a speck on our lee quarter!”
“What do you make of it?”
“Unless sight deceives me greatly, Sir, there is a light boat pulling in for the ship, about three cables’length distant.”
Ludlow raised his own glass, and swept the water in the direction named. After one or two unsuccessful trials, his eye caught the object; and as the moon had now some power, he was at no loss to distinguish its character. There was evidently a boat, and one that, by its movements, had a design of holding communication with the cruiser.
The eye of a seaman is acute on his element, and his mind is quick in forming opinions on all things that properly appertain to his profession. Ludlow saw instantly, by the construction, that the boat was not one of those sent from the ship; that it approached in a direction which enabled it to avoid the Coquette, by keeping in a part of the bay where the water was not sufficiently deep to admit of her passage; and that its movements were so guarded as to denote great caution, while there was an evident wish to draw as near to the cruiser as prudence might render advisable. Taking a trumpet, he hailed in the well-known and customary manner.
The answer came up faintly against the air, but it was uttered with much practice in the implement, and with an exceeding compass of voice.
“Ay, ay!” and, “a parley from the brigantine!” were the only words that were distinctly audible.
For a minute or two, the young man paced the deck in silence. Then he suddenly commanded the only boat which the cruiser now possessed, to be lowered and manned.
“Throw an ensign into the stern-sheets,” he said, when these orders were executed; “and let there be arms beneath it. We will keep faith while faith is observed, but there are reasons for caution in this interview.”
Trysail was directed to keep the ship stationary, and after giving to his subordinate private instructions of importance in the event of treachery, Ludlow went into the boat in person. A very few minutes sufficed to bring the jolly-boat and the stranger so near each other, that the means of communication were both easy and sure. The men of the former were then commanded to cease rowing, and, raising his glass, the commander of the cruiser took a more certain and minute survey of those who awaited his coming. The strange boat was dancing on the waves, like a light shell that floated so buoyantly as scarce to touch the element which sustained it, while four athletic seamen leaned on the oars which lay ready to urge it ahead. In the sternsheets stood a form, whose attitude and mien could not readily be mistaken. In the admirable steadiness of the figure, the folded arms, the fine and manly proportions, and the attire, Ludlow recognized the mariner of the India-shawl. A wave of the hand induced him to venture nearer.
“What is asked of the royal cruiser?” demanded the captain of the vessel named, when the two boats were as near each other as seemed expedient.
“Confidence!” was the calm reply.–“Come nearer, Captain Ludlow; I am here with naked hands! Our conference need not be maintained with trumpets.”
Ashamed that a boat belonging to a ship of war should betray doubts, the people of the yawl were ordered to go within reach of the oars.
“Well, Sir, you have your wish. I have quitted my ship, and come to the parley, with the smallest of my boats.”
“It is unnecessary to say what has been done with the others!” returned Tiller, across the firm muscles of whose face there passed a smile that was scarcely perceptible. “You hunt us hard, Sir, and give but little rest to the brigantine. But again are you foiled!”
“We have a harbinger of better fortune, in a lucky blow that has been struck to-night.”
“You are understood, Sir; Master Seadrift has fallen into the hands of the Queen’s servants–but take good heed! if injury, in word or deed, befall that youth, there live those who well know how to resent the wrong!”
“These are lofty expressions, to come from a proscribed man; but we will overlook them, in the motive. Your brigantine, Master Tiller, lost its master-spirit in the ‘Skimmer of the Seas,’ and it may be wise to listen to the suggestions of moderation. If you are disposed to treat, I am here with no disposition to extort.”
“We meet in a suitable spirit, then; for I come prepared to offer terms of ransom, that Queen Anne, if she love her revenue, need not despise;–but, as in duty to Her Majesty, I will first listen to her royal pleasure.”
“First, then, as a seaman, and one who is not ignorant of what a vessel can perform, let me direct your attention to the situation of the parties. I am certain that the Water-Witch, though for the moment concealed by the shadows of the hills, or favored perhaps by distance and the feebleness of this light, is in the waters of the bay. A force, against which she has no power of resistance, watches the inlet; you see the cruiser in readiness to meet her off the Hook. My boats are so stationed as to preclude the possibility of escape, without sufficient notice, by the northern channel; and, in short, the outlets are all closed to your passage. With the morning light, we shall know your position, and act accordingly.”
“No chart can show the dangers of rocks and shoals more clearly!–and to avoid these dangers–?”
“Yield the brigantine, and depart. Though outlawed, we shall content ourselves with the possession of the remarkable vessel in which you do your mischief, and hope that, deprived of the means to err, you will return to better courses.”
“With the prayers of the church for our amendment! Now listen, Captain Ludlow, to what I offer. You have the person of one much loved by all who follow the lady of the sea-green mantle, in your power; and we have a brigantine that does much injury to Queen Anne’s supremacy in the waters of this hemisphere;–yield you the captive, and we promise to quit this coast, never to return.”
“This were a worthy treaty, truly, for one whose habitation is not a mad-house! Relinquish my right over the principal doer of the evil, and receive the unsupported pledge of a subordinate’s word! Your happy fortune, Master Tiller, has troubled your reason. What I offer, was offered because I would not drive an unfortunate and remarkable man, like him we have, to extremities, and–there may be other motives, but do not mistake my lenity. Should force become necessary to put your vessel into our hands, the law may view your offences with a still harsher eye. Deeds which the lenity of our system now considers as venial, may easily turn to crime!”