“I ought not to take your distrust, as other than excusable,” returned the smuggler, evidently suppressing a feeling of haughty and wounded pride. “The word of a free-trader should have little weight in the ears of a queen’s officer. We have been trained in different schools, and the same objects are seen in different colors. Your proposal has been heard, and, with some thanks for its fair intentions, it is refused without a hope of acceptation. Our brigantine is, as you rightly think, a remarkable vessel! Her equal, Sir, for beauty or speed, floats not the ocean. By heaven! I would sooner slight the smiles of the fairest woman that walks the earth, than entertain a thought which should betray the interest I feel in that jewel of naval skill! You have seen her, at many times, Captain Ludlow–in squalls and calms; with her wings abroad, and her pinions shut; by day and night; near and far; fair and foul;–and I ask you, with a seaman’s frankness, is she not a toy to fill a seaman’s heart?”
“I deny not the vessel’s merits, nor her beauty– ’tis a pity she bears no better reputation.”
“I knew you could not withhold this praise! But I grow childish when there is question of that brigantine! Well Sir, each has been heard, and now comes the conclusion. I part with the apple of my eye, ere a stick of that lovely fabric is willingly deserted. Shall we make other ransom for the youth? –What think you of a pledge in gold, to be forfeited should we forget our word.”
“You ask impossibilities. In treating thus at all, I quit the path of proud authority, because, as has been said, there is that about the ‘Skimmer of the Seas’ that raises him above the coarse herd who in common traffic against the law. The brigantine, or nothing!”
“My life, before that brigantine! Sir, you forget our fortunes are protected by one who laughs at the efforts of your fleet. You think that we are inclosed, and that, when light shall return, there will remain merely the easy task to place your iron-mounted cruiser on our beam, and drive us to seek mercy. Here are honest mariners, who could tell you of the hopelessness of the expedient. The Water-Witch has run the gauntlet of all your navies, and shot has never yet defaced her beauty.”
“And yet her limbs have been known to fall before a messenger from my ship!”
“The stick wanted the commission of our mistress,” interrupted the other, glancing his eye at the credulous and attentive crew of the boat. “In a thoughtless moment, ’t was taken up at sea, and fashioned to our purpose without counsel from the book. Nothing that touches our decks, under fitting advice, comes to harm.–You look incredulous, and ’tis in character to seem so. If you refuse to listen to the lady of the brigantine, at least lend an ear to your own laws. Of what offence can you charge Master Seadrift, that you hold him captive?”
“His redoubted name of ‘Skimmer of the Seas’ were warranty to force him from a sanctuary,” returned Ludlow, smiling. “Though proof should fail of any immediate crime, there is impunity for the arrest, since the law refuses to protect him.”
“This is your boasted justice! Regues in authority combine to condemn an absent and a silent man. But if you think to do your violence with impunity, know there are those who take deep interest in the welfare of that youth.”
“This is foolish bandying of menaces,” said the captain, warmly. “If you accept my offers, speak; and if you reject them, abide the consequences.”
“I abide the consequences. But since we cannot come to terms, as victor and the submitting party, we may part in amity. Touch my hand, Captain Ludlow, as one brave man should salute another, though the next minute they are to grapple at the throat.”
Ludlow hesitated. The proposal was made with so frank and manly a mien, and the air of the free-trader, as he leaned beyond the gunwale of his boat, was so superior to his pursuit, that, unwilling to seem churlish, or to be outdone in courtesy, he reluctantly consented, and laid his palm within that the other offered. The smuggler profited by the junction to draw the boats nearer, and, to the amazement of all who witnessed the action, he stepped boldly into the yawl, and was seated, face to face, with its officer, in a moment.
“These are matters that are not fit for every ear,” said the decided and confident mariner, in an under tone, when he had made this sudden change in the position of the parties. “Deal with me frankly, Captain Ludlow:–is your prisoner left to brood on his melancholy, or does he feel the consolation of knowing that others take an interest in his welfare?”
“He does not want for sympathy, Master Tiller –since he has the pity of the finest woman in America.”
“Ha! la belle Barbérie owns her esteem!–is the conjecture right?”
“Unhappily, you are too near the truth. The infatuated girl seems but to live in his presence. She has so far forgotten the opinions of others, as to follow him to my ship!”
Tiller listened intently, and, from that instant, all concern disappeared from his countenance.
“He who is thus favored may, for a moment, even forget the brigantine!” he exclaimed, with all his natural recklessness of air. “And the Alderman–?”
“Has more discretion than his niece, since he did not permit her to come alone.”
“Enough.–Captain Ludlow, let what will follow, we part as friends. Fear not, Sir, to touch the hand of a proscribed man, again; it is honest after its own fashion, and many is the peer and prince who keeps not so clean a palm. Deal tenderly with that gay and rash young sailor; he wants the discretion of an older head, but the heart is kindness itself–I would hazard life, to shelter his–but at every hazard the brigantine must be saved.–Adieu!”
There was strong emotion in the voice of the mariner of the shawl, notwithstanding his high bearing. Squeezing the hand of Ludlow, he passed back into his own barge, with the ease and steadiness of one who made the ocean his home.
“Adieu!” he repeated, signing to his men to pull in the direction of the shoals, where it was certain the ship could not follow. “We may meet again; until then, adieu.”
“We are sure to meet, with the return of light.”
“Believe it not, brave gentleman. Our lady will thrust the spars under her girdle, and pass a fleet unseen.–A sailor’s blessing on you–fair winds and a plenty; a safe landfall, and a cheerful home! Deal kindly by the boy, and, in all but evil wishes to my vessel, success light on your ensign!”
The seamen of both boats dashed their oars into the water at the same instant, and the two parties were quickly without the hearing of the voice.
CHAPTER IX.
“–Did I tell this, Who would believe me?”
Measure for Measure
The time of the interview related in the close of the preceding chapter, was in the early watches of the night. It now becomes our duty to transport the reader to another, that had place several hours later, and after day had dawned on the industrious burghers of Manhattan.
There stood, near one of the wooden wharves which lined the arm of the sea on which the city is so happily placed, a dwelling around which there was every sign that its owner was engaged in a retail commerce, that was active and thriving, for that age and country. Notwithstanding the earliness of the hour, the windows of this house were open; and an individual, of a busy-looking face, thrust his head so often from one of the casements, as to show that he already expected the appearance of a second party, in the affair that had probably called him from his bed, even sooner than common. A tremendous rap at the door relieved his visible uneasiness; and, hastening to open it, he received his visiter, with much parade of ceremony, and many protestations of respect, in person.
“This is an honor, my lord, that does not often befall men of my humble condition,” said the master of the house, in the flippant utterance of a vulgar cockney; “but I thought it would be more agreeable to your lordship, to receive the a–a–here, than in the place where your lordship, just at this moment, resides. Will your lordship please to rest yourself, after your lordship’s walk?”
“I thank you, Carnaby,” returned the other, taking the offered seat, with an air of easy superiority. “You judge with your usual discretion, as respects the place, though I doubt the prudence of seeing him at all. Has the man come?”
“Doubtless, my lord; he would hardly presume to keep your lordship waiting, and much less would I countenance him in so gross a disrespect. He will be most happy to wait on you, my lord, whenever your lordship shall please.”