 | CHAPTER VIII. The water-witch, or, The skimmer of the seas |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
It were done quickly—”
Macbeth.
The words of the immortal poet, with which, in
deference to an ancient usage in the literature of the
language, we have prefaced the incidents to be related
in this chapter, are in perfect conformity with
that governing maxim of a vessel, which is commonly
found embodied in its standing orders, and which
prescribes the necessity of exertion and activity in
the least of its operations. A strongly-manned ship,
like a strong-armed man, is fond of showing its physical
power, for it is one of the principal secrets of
its efficiency. In a profession in which there is an
unceasing contest with the wild and fickle winds,
and in which human efforts are to be manifested in
the control of a delicate and fearful machinery on
an inconstant element, this governing principle becomes
of the last importance. Where `delay may so
easily be death,' it soon gets to be a word that is expunged
from the language; and there is perhaps no
truth more necessary to be known to all young aspirants
for naval success, than that, while nothing
should be attempted in a hurry, nothing should be
done without the last degree of activity that is compatible
with precision.
The commander of the Coquette had early been
impressed with the truth of the foregoing rule, and
he had not neglected its application in the discipline
of his crew. When he reached the deck, therefore,
after relinquishing the cabin to his visiters, he found
those preparations which he had ordered to be commenced
when he first returned to the ship, already
far advanced towards their execution. As these
events it is our duty to explain, we shall relate them
with some particularity.
Ludlow had no sooner given his orders to the officer
in charge of the deck, than the whistle of the
boatswain was heard summoning all hands to their
duty. When the crew had been collected, tackles
were hooked to the large boats stowed in the centre
of the ship, and the whole of them were lowered
into the water. The descent of those suspended on
the quarters, was of course less difficult and much
sooner effected. So soon as all the boats, with the
exception of one at the stern, were out, the order
was given to `cross top-gallant-yards.' This duty had
been commenced while other things were in the
course of performance, and a minute had scarcely
passed before the upper masts were again in possession
of their light sails. Then was heard the usual
summons of, `all hands up anchor, ahoy!' and the
rapid orders of the young officers to `man capstan-bars,'
to `nipper,' and finally to `heave away.' The
business of getting the anchor on board a cruiser,
and on board a ship engaged in commerce, is of very
different degrees of labor, as well as of expedition.
In the latter, a dozen men apply their powers to a
slow-moving and reluctant windlass, while the untractable
cable, as it enters, is broken into coils by
the painful efforts of a grumbling cook, thwarted,
perhaps, as much as he is aided by the waywardness
of some wilful urchin who does the service of the
cabin. On the other hand, the upright and constantly-moving
capstan knows no delay. The revolving
`messenger' is ever ready to be applied, and skilful
petty officers are always in the tiers, to dispose
of the massive rope, that it may not encumber the
decks.
Ludlow appeared among his people, while they
were thus employed. Ere he had made one hasty
first-lieutenant.
“We are short, Sir,” said that agent of all work.
“Set your topsails.”
The canvas was instantly permitted to fall, and it
was no sooner stretched to the yards, than force was
applied to the halyards, and the sails were hoisted.
“Which way, Sir, do you wish the ship cast?”
demanded the attentive Luff.
“To seaward.”
The head-yards were accordingly braced aback
in the proper direction, and it was then reported to
the captain that all was ready to get the ship under
way.
“Trip the anchor at once, Sir; when it is stowed,
and the decks are cleared, report to me.”
This sententious and characteristic communication
between Ludlow and his second in command, was
sufficient for all the purposes of that moment. The
one was accustomed to issue his orders without explanation,
and the other never hesitated to obey,
and rarely presumed to inquire into their motive.
“We are aweigh and stowed, Sir; every thing
clear,” said Mr. Luff, after a few minutes had been
allowed to execute the preceding commands.
Ludlow then seemed to arouse himself from a deep
reverie. He had hitherto spoken mechanically,
rather than as one conscious of what he uttered, or
whose feelings had any connexion with his words.
But it was now necessary to mingle with his officers,
and to issue mandates that, as they were less in routine,
required both thought and discretion. The
crews of the different boats were `called away,' and
arms were placed in their hands. When nearly or
quite one-half of the ship's company were in the
boats, and the latter were all reported to be ready,
officers were assigned to each, and the particular
A master's mate in the captain's barge, with the
crew strengthened by half-a-dozen marines, was ordered
to pull directly for the Cove, into which he
was to enter with muffled oars, and where he was to
await a signal from the first-lieutenant, unless he met
the brigantine endeavoring to escape, in which case
his orders were imperative to board and carry her
at every hazard. The high-spirited youth no sooner
received this charge, than he quitted the ship and
steered to the southward, keeping inside the tongue
of land so often named.
Luff was then told to take command of the launch.
With this heavy and strongly-manned boat, he was
ordered to proceed to the inlet, where he was to
give the signal to the barge, and whence he was to
go to the assistance of the latter, so soon as he was
assured the Water-Witch could not again escape by
the secret passage.
The two cutters were intrusted to the command
of the second-lieutenant, with orders to pull into the
broad passage between the end of the cape, or the
`Hook,' and that long narrow island which stretches
from the harbor of New-York for more than forty
leagues to the eastward, sheltering the whole coast
of Connecticut from the tempests of the ocean. Ludlow
knew, though ships of a heavy draught were
obliged to pass close to the cape, in order to gain the
open sea, that a light brigantine, like the Water-Witch,
could find a sufficient depth of water for her
purposes further north. The cutters were, therefore,
sent in that direction, with orders to cover as much
of the channel as possible, and to carry the smuggler
should an occasion offer. Finally, the yawl was to
occupy the space between the two channels, with
orders to repeat signals, and to be vigilant in reconnoitring.
While the different officers intrusted with these
duties were receiving their instructions, the ship,
under the charge of Trysail, began to move towards
the cape. When off the point of the Hook, the two
cutters and the yawl `cast off,' and took to their
oars, and when fairly without the buoys, the launch
did the same, each boat taking its prescribed direction.
If the reader retains a distinct recollection of the
scene described in one of the earlier pages of this
work, he will understand the grounds on which Ludlow
based his hopes of success. By sending the launch
into the inlet, he believed he should inclose the brigantine
on every side; since her escape through either
of the ordinary channels would become impossible,
while he kept the Coquette in the offing. The service
he expected from the three boats sent to the
northward, was to trace the movement of the smuggler,
and, should a suitable opportunity offer, to attempt
to carry him by surprise.
When the launch parted from the ship, the Coquette
came slowly up to the wind, and with her fore-topsail
thrown to the mast, she lay, waiting to allow
her boats the time necessary to reach their several
stations. The different expeditions had reduced the
force of the crew quite one-half, and as both the lieutenants
were otherwise employed, there now remained
on board no officer of a rank between those
of the captain and Trysail. Some time after the vessel
had been stationary, and the men had been ordered
to keep close, or, in other words, to dispose of
their persons as they pleased, with a view to permit
them to catch `cat's naps,' as some compensation for
the loss of their regular sleep, the latter approached
his superior, who stood gazing over the hammock-cloths
in the direction of the Cove, and spoke.
“A dark night, smooth water, and fresh hands,
make boating agreeable duty!” he said. “The gentlemen
hopes; but he who lays that brigantine aboard, will,
in my poor judgment, have more work to do than
merely getting up her side. I was in the foremost
boat that boarded a Spaniard in the Mona, last war;
and though we went into her with light heels, some
of us were brought out with broken heads.—I think
the fore-top-gallant-mast has a better set, Captain
Ludlow, since we gave the last pull at the rigging?”
“It stands well;” returned his half-attentive commander.
“Give it the other drag, if you think best.”
“Just as you please, Sir; 'tis all one to me. I
care not if the mast is hove all of one side, like the
hat on the head of a country buck; but when a thing
is as it ought to be, reason would tell us to let it
alone. Mr. Luff was of opinion, that by altering the
slings of the main-yard, we should give a better set
to the topsail sheets; but it was little that could be
done with the stick aloft, and I am ready to pay Her
Majesty the difference between the wear of the
sheets as they stand now, and as Mr. Luff would
have them, out of my own pocket, though it is often
as empty as a parish church in which a fox-hunting
parson preaches. I was present, once, when a real
tally-ho was reading the service, and one of your godless
squires got in the wake of a fox, with his hounds,
within hail of the church-windows! The cries had
some such effect on my roarer, as a puff of wind would
have on this ship; that is to say, he sprung his luff,
and though he kept on muttering something I never
knew what, his eyes were in the fields the whole
time the pack was in view. But this wasn't the
worst of it; for when he got fairly back to his work
again, the wind had been blowing the leaves of his
book about, and he plumped us into the middle of
the marriage ceremony. I am no great lawyer, but
there were those who said it was a god-send that half
own grandmothers!”
“I hope the match was agreeable to the family;”
said Ludlow, relieving one elbow by resting the
weight of his head on the other.
“Why, as to that, I will not take upon me to say,
since the clerk corrected the parson's reckoning before
the mischief was entirely done. There has been
a little dispute between me and the first-lieutenant,
Captain Ludlow, concerning the trim of the ship.
He maintains that we have got too much in forward
of what he calls the centre of gravity; and he is of
opinion that had we been less by the head, the smuggler
would never have had the heels of us, in the
chase; whereas I invite any man to lay a craft on
her water-line—”
“Show our light!” interrupted Ludlow. “Yonder
goes the signal of the launch!”
Trysail ceased speaking, and, stepping on a gun,
he also began to gaze in the direction of the Cove.
A lantern, or some other bright object, was leisurely
raised three times, and as often hid from view. The
signal came from under the land, and in a quarter
that left no doubt of its object.
“So far, well;” cried the Captain, quitting his
stand, and turning, for the first time, with consciousness,
to his officer. “ 'Tis a sign that they are at
the inlet, and that the offing is clear. I think, Master
Trysail, we are now sure of our prize. Sweep the
horizon thoroughly with the night-glass, and then
we will close upon this boasted brigantine.”
Both took glasses, and devoted several minutes to
this duty. A careful examination of the margin of
the sea, from the coast of New-Jersey to that of
Long-Island, gave them reason to believe that nothing
of any size was lying without the cape. The
sky was more free from clouds to the eastward than
under the land, and it was not difficult to make certain
that the Water-Witch had not escaped by the
secret passage, during the time lost in their own
preparations.
“This is still well;” continued Ludlow. “Now,
he cannot avoid us—show the triangle.”
Three lights, disposed in the form just named,
were then hoisted at the gaff-end of the Coquette.
It was an order for the boats in the Cove to proceed.
The signal was quickly answered from the launch,
and then a small rocket was seen sailing over the
trees and shrubbery of the shore. All on board the
Coquette listened intently, to catch some sound that
should denote the tumult of an assault. Once Ludlow
and Trysail thought the cheers of seamen came on
the thick air of the night; and once, again, either
fancy or their senses told them they heard the menacing
hail which commanded the outlaws to submit.
Many minutes of intense anxiety succeeded. The
whole of the hammock-cloths on the side of the ship
nearest to the land were lined with curious faces,
though respect left Ludlow to the sole occupation of
the short and light deck which covered the accommodations;
whither he had ascended, to command a
more perfect view of the horizon.
“'Tis time to hear their musketry, or to see the
signal of success!” said the young man to himself, so
intently occupied by his interest in the undertaking,
as to be unconscious of having spoken.
“Have you forgotten to provide a signal for failure?”
said one at his elbow.
“Ha! Master Seadrift;—I would have spared
you this spectacle.”
“'Tis one too often witnessed, to be singular. A
life passed on the ocean has not left me ignorant of
the effect of night, with a view seaward, a dark
coast, and a back-ground of mountain!”
“You have confidence in him left in charge of
lady, myself, if he escape my boats, this time.”
“See!—there is a token of her fortune;” returned
the other, pointing towards three lanterns that
were shown at the inlet's mouth, and over which
many lights were burnt in rapid succession.
“'Tis of failure! Let the ship fall-of, and square
away the yards! Round in, men, round in. We will
run down to the entrance of the bay, Mr. Trysail.
The knaves have been aided by their lucky star!”
Ludlow spoke with deep vexation in his tones, but
always with the authority of a superior and the
promptitude of a seaman. The motionless being,
near him, maintained a profound silence. No exclamation
of triumph escaped him, nor did he open his
lips either in pleasure or in surprise. It appeared as
if confidence in his vessel rendered him as much superior
to exultation as to apprehension.
“You look upon this exploit of your brigantine,
Master Seadrift, as a thing of course;” Ludlow observed,
when his own ship was steering towards the
extremity of the cape, again. “Fortune has not
deserted you, yet; but with the land on three sides,
and this ship and her boats on the fourth, I do not
despair yet of prevailing over your bronzed goddess!”
“Our mistress never sleeps;” returned the dealer
in contraband, drawing a long breath, like one who
had struggled long to repress his interest.
“Terms are still in your power. I shall not conceal
that the Commissioners of Her Majesty's customs
set so high a price on the possession of the Water-Witch,
as to embolden me to assume a responsibility
from which I might, on any other occasion, shrink.
Deliver the vessel, and I pledge you the honor of an
officer that the crew shall land without question.—
Leave her to us, with empty decks and a swept
hold, if you will,—but, leave the swift boat in our
hands.”
“The lady of the brigantine thinks otherwise.
She wears her mantle of the deep waters, and, trust
me, spite of all your nets, she will lead her followers
beyond the offices of the lead, and far from soundings;—ay!
spite of all the navy of Queen Anne!”
“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
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 stern-sheets
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,
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
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!”
“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
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,
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
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 VIII. The water-witch, or, The skimmer of the seas | |