 | CHAPTER VI. The Red Rover |  |
6. CHAPTER VI.
—“The good old plan,
That they should get, who have the power,
And they should keep, who can.”
—Wordsworth.
The apartment, in which our adventurer now
found himself, afforded no bad illustration of the
character of its occupant. In its form, and proportions,
it was a cabin of the usual size and arrangements;
but, in its furniture and equipments, it exhibited
a singular admixture of luxury and martial
preparation. The lamp, which swung from the
upper deck, was of solid silver; and, though adapted
to its present situation by mechanical ingenuity,
there was that, in its shape and ornaments, which
betrayed it had once been used before some shrine
of a far more sacred character. Massive candle-sticks,
of the same precious metal, and which partook
of the same ecclesiastical formation, were on a
venerable table, whose mahogany was glittering with
and carved supporters, bespoke an original destination
very different from the ordinary service of a
ship. A couch, covered with cut velvet, stood
along the transom; while a divan, of blue silk, lay
against the bulkhead opposite, manifesting, by its
fashion, its materials, and its piles of pillows, that
even Asia had been made to contribute to the ease
of its luxurious owner. In addition to these prominent
articles, there were cut glass, mirrors, plate, and even
hangings; each of which, by something peculiar in
its fashion or materials, bespoke an origin different
from that of its neighbour. In short, splendour and
elegance seemed to have been much more consulted
than propriety, or conformity in taste, in the selection
of most of those articles, which had been, oddly
enough, made to contribute to the caprice or to the
comfort of their singular possessor.
In the midst of this medley of wealth and luxury,
appeared the frowning appendages of war. The
cabin included four of those dark cannon whose
weight and number had been first to catch the
attention of Wilder. Notwithstanding they were
placed in such close proximity to the articles of ease
just enumerated, it only needed a seaman's eye to
perceive that they stood ready for instant service,
and that five minutes of preparation would strip the
place of all its tinsel, and leave it a warm and well
protected battery. Pistols, sabres, half-pikes, boarding-axes,
and all the minor implements of marine
warfare, were arranged about the cabin in such a
manner as to aid in giving it an appearance of wild
embellishment, while, at the same time, each was
convenient to the hand.
Around the mast was placed a stand of muskets;
and strong wooden bars, that were evidently made
to fit in brackets on either side of the door, sufficiently
showed that the bulkhead might easily be
proclaimed that the cabin was considered the citadel
of the ship. In support of this latter opinion,
appeared a hatch, which evidently communicated
with the apartments of the inferior officers, and
which also opened a direct passage into the magazine.
These dispositions, a little different from what he had
been accustomed to see, instantly struck the eye of
Wilder, though leisure was not then given to reflect
on their uses and objects.
There was a latent expression of satisfaction,
something modified, perhaps, by irony, on the countenance
of the stranger in green, (for he was still
clad as when first introduced to the reader,) as he
arose, on the entrance of his visiter. The two stood
several moments without speaking, when the pretended
barrister saw fit to break the awkward
silence.
“To what happy circumstance is this ship indebted
for the honour of such a visit?” he demanded.
“I believe I may answer, To the invitation of her
Captain,” Wilder answered, with a steadiness and
calmness equal to that displayed by the other.
“Did he show you his commission, in assuming
that office? They say, at sea, I believe, that no
cruiser should be found without a commission.”
“And what say they at the universities on this
material point?”
“I see I may as well lay aside my gown, and own
the marling-spike!” returned the other, smiling.
“There is something about the trade—profession,
though, I believe, is your favourite word—there is
something about the profession, which betrays us to
each other. Yes, Mr Wilder,” he added with dignity
motioning to his guest to imitate his example,
and take a seat, “I am, like yourself, a seaman bred;
and happy am I to add, the Commander of this gallant
vessel.”
“Then, must you admit that I have not intruded
without a sufficient warrant.”
“I confess the same. My ship has filled your eye
agreeably; nor shall I be slow to acknowledge, that
I have seen enough about your air, and person, to
make me wish to be an older acquaintance. You
want service?”
“One should be ashamed of idleness in these stirring
times.”
“It is well. This is an oddly-constructed world
in which we live, Mr Wilder! Some think themselves
in danger, with a foundation beneath them no less
solid than terra firma, while others are content to
trust their fortunes on the sea. So, again, some there
are who believe praying is the business of man; and
then come others who are sparing of their breath,
and take those favours for themselves which they
have not always the leisure or the inclination to ask
for. No doubt you thought it prudent to inquire
into the nature of our trade, before you came hither
in quest of employment?”
“You are said to be a slaver, among the towns-men
of Newport.”
“They are never wrong, your village gossips! If
witchcraft ever truly existed on earth, the first of the
cunning tribe has been a village innkeeper; the
second, its doctor; and the third, its priest. The
right to the fourth honour may be disputed between
the barber and the tailor.—Roderick!”
The Captain accompanied the word by which he
so unceremoniously interrupted himself, by striking
a light blow on a Chinese gong, which, among other
curiosities, was suspended from one of the beams of
the upper deck, within reach of his hand.
“I say, Roderick, do you sleep?”
A light and active boy darted out of one of the
two little state-rooms which were constructed on
by announcing his presence.
“Has the boat returned?”
The reply was in the affirmative.
“And has she been successful?”
“The General is in his room, sir, and can give you
an answer better than I.”
“Then, let the General appear, and report the
result of his campaign.”
Wilder was by far too deeply interested, to break
the sudden reverie into which his companion had
now evidently fallen, even by breathing as loud as
usual. The boy descended through the hatch like a
serpent gliding into his hole, or, rather, a fox darting
into his burrow, and then a profound stillness reigned
in the cabin. The Commander of the ship leaned
his head on his hand, appearing utterly unconscious
of the presence of any stranger. The silence might
have been of much longer duration, had it not been
interrupted by the appearance of a third person. A
straight, rigid form slowly elevated itself through the
little hatchway, very much in the manner that theatrical
spectres are seen to make their appearance on
the stage, until about half of the person was visible,
when it ceased to rise, and turned its disciplined
countenance on the Captain.
“I wait for orders,” said a mumbling voice,
which issued from lips that were hardly perceived
to move.
Wilder started as this unexpected individual appeared;
nor was the stranger wanting in an aspect
sufficiently remarkable to produce surprise in any
spectator. The face was that of a man of fifty, with
the lineaments rather indurated than faded by time.
Its colour was an uniform red, with the exception of
one of those expressive little fibrous tell-tales on each
cheeck, which bear so striking a resemblance to the
true origin of the proverb which says that “good
wine needs no bush.” The head was bald on its
crown; but around either ear was a mass of grizzled
hair, pomatumed and combed into formal military
bristles. The neck was long, and supported by a
black stock; the shoulders, arms, and body were
those of a man of tall stature; and the whole were
enveloped in an over-coat, which, though it had
something methodical in its fashion, was evidently
intended as a sort of domino. The Captain raised
his head as the other spoke, exclaiming,—
“Ah! General, are you at your post? Did you
find the land?”
“Yes.”
“And the point?—and the man?”
“Both.”
“And what did you?”
“Obey orders.”
“That was right.—You are a jewel for an executive
officer, General; and, as such, I wear you near
my heart. Did the fellow complain?”
“He was gagged.”
“A summary method of closing remonstrance. It
is as it should be, General; as usual, you have merited
my approbation.”
“Then reward me for it.”
“In what manner? You are already as high in
rank as I can elevate you. The next step must be
knighthood.”
“Pshaw! my men are no better than militia.
They want coats.”
“They shall have them. His Majesty's guards
shall not be half so well equipt. General, I wish
you a good night.”
The figure descended, in the same rigid, spectral
manner as it had risen on the sight, leaving Wilder
again alone with the Captain of the ship. The lat
odd interview had occurred in the presence of one
who was nearly a stranger, and that, in his eyes at
least, it might appear to require some explanation.
“My friend,” he said, with an air something explanatory,
while it was at the same time, not a little
haughty, “commands what, in a more regular cruiser,
would be called the `marine guard.' He has gradually
risen, by service, from the rank of a subaltern,
to the high station which he now fills. You perceive
he smells of the camp?”
“More than of the ship. Is it usual for slavers to
be so well provided with military equipments? I
find you armed at all points.”
“You would know more of us, before we proceed
to drive our bargain?” the Captain answered,
with a smile. He then opened a little casket that
stood on the table, and drew from it a parchment,
which he coolly handed to Wilder, saying, as he did
so, with one of the quick, searching glances of his
restless eye, “You will see, by that, we have `letters
of marque,' and are duly authorized to fight the battles
of the King, while we are conducting our own
more peaceable affairs.”
“This is the commission of a brig!”
“True, true. I have given you the wrong paper.
I believe you will find this more accurate.”
“This is truly a commission for the `good ship
Seven Sisters;' but you surely carry more than ten
guns; and, then, these in your cabin throw nine instead
of four pound shot!”
“Ah! you are as precise as though you had been
the barrister, and I the blundering seaman. I dare
say you have heard of such a thing as stretching a
commission,” continued the Captain drily, as he
carelessly threw the parchment back among a pile
of similar documents. Then, rising from his seat,
he began to pace the cabin with quick steps, as he
ours is a hazardous pursuit. Some call it lawless.
But, as I am little addicted to theological disputes,
we will wave the question. You have not come
here without knowing your errand.”
“I am in search of a birth.”
“Doubtless you have reflected well on the matter,
and know your own mind as to the trade in which
you would sail. In order that no time may be wasted,
and that our dealings may be frank, as becomes
two honest seamen, I will confess to you, at once,
that I have need of you. A brave and skilful man,
one older, though, I dare say, not better than yourself,
occupied that larboard state-room, within the
month; but, poor fellow, he is food for fishes ere
this.”
“He was drowned?”
“Not he! He died in open battle with a King's
ship!”
“A King's ship! Have you then stretched your
commission so far as to find a warranty for giving
battle to his Majesty's cruisers?”
“Is there no King but George the Second! Perhaps
she bore the white flag, perhaps a Dane. But
he was truly a gallant fellow; and there lies his
birth, as empty as the day he was carried from it, to
be cast into the sea. He was a man fit to succeed
to the command, should an evil star shine on my
fate. I think I could die easier, were I to know
this noble vessel was to be transmitted to one who
would make such use of her as should be.”
“Doubtless your owners would provide a successor,
in the event of such a calamity.”
“My owners are very reasonable,” returned the
other, with a meaning smile, while he cast another
searching glance at his guest, which compelled Wilder
to lower his own eyes to the cabin floor; “they
seldom trouble me with importunities, or orders.”
“They are indulgent! I see that flags were not
forgotten in your inventory: Do they also give you
permission to wear any one of all those ensigns, as
you may please?”
As this question was put, the expressive and understanding
looks of the two seamen met. The
Captain drew a flag from the half-open locker, where
it had caught the attention of his visiter, and, letting
the roll unfold itself on the deck, he answered,—
“This is the Lily of France, you see. No bad
emblem of your stainless Frenchman. An escutcheon
of pretence without spot, but, nevertheless, a little
soiled by too much use. Here, you have the calculating
Dutchman; plain, substantial, and cheap. It
is a flag I little like. If the ship be of value, her
owners are not often willing to dispose of her without
a price. This is your swaggering Hamburgher.
He is rich in the possession of one town, and makes
his boast of it, in these towers. Of the rest of his
mighty possessions he wisely says nothing in his allegory.
These are the Crescents of Turkey; a moon-struck
nation, that believe themselves the inheritors
of heaven. Let them enjoy their birthright in peace;
it is seldom they are found looking for its blessings
on the high seas—and these, the little satellites that
play about the mighty moon; your Barbarians of
Africa. I hold but little communion with these
wide-trowsered gentry, for they seldom deal in gainful
traffic. And yet,” he added, glancing his eye at
the silken divan before which Wilder was seated,
“I have met the rascals; nor have we parted entirely
without communication! Ah! here comes
the man I like; your golden, gorgeous Spaniard!
This field of yellow reminds one of the riches of her
mines; and this Crown! one might fancy it of beaten
gold, and stretch forth a hand to grasp the treasure.
What a blazonry is this for a galleon! Here
is the humbler Portuguese; and yet is he not without
true Brazilian diamonds in this kingly bauble. Yonder
crucifix, which you see hanging in pious proximity
to my state-room door, is a specimen of the
sort I mean.” Wilder turned his head, to throw a
look on the valuable emblem, that was really suspended
from the bulkhead, within a few inches of
the spot the other named. After satisfying his curiosity,
he was in the act of giving his attention again
to the flags, when he detected another of those penetrating,
but stolen glances with which his companion
so often read the countenance of his associates.
It might have been that the Captain was endeavouring
to discover the effect his profuse display of
wealth had produced on the mind of his visiter.
Let that be as it would, Wilder smiled; for, at that
moment, the idea first occurred that the ornaments
of the cabin had been thus studiously arranged with
an expectation of his arrival, and with the wish that
their richness might strike his senses favourably.
The other caught the expression of his eye; and
perhaps he mistook its meaning, when he suffered
his construction of what it said to animate him to
pursue his whimsical analysis of the flags, with an
air still more cheerful and vivacious than before.
“These double-headed monsters are land birds,
and seldom risk a flight over deep waters. They
are not for me. Your hardy, valiant Dane; your
sturdy Swede; a nest of smaller fry,” he continued,
passing his hand rapidly over a dozen little rolls as
they lay, each in its own repository, “who spread
their bunting like larger states; and your luxurious
Neapolitan. Ah! here come the Keys of Heaven!
This is a flag to die under! I lay yard-arm and
yard-arm, once, under that very bit of bunting, with
a heavy corsair from Algiers”—
“What! Did you choose to fight under the banners
of the Church?”
“In mere devotion. I pictured to myself the surprise
that would overcome the barbarian, when he
should find that we did not go to prayers. We gave
him but a round or two, before he swore that Allah
had decreed he might surrender. There was a moment,
while I luffed-up on his weather-quarter, I
believe, that the Mussulman thought the whole of the
holy Conclave was afloat, and that the downfall of
Mahomet and his offspring was ordained. I provoked
the conflict, I will confess, in showing him these
peaceful Keys, which he is dull enough to think
open half the strong boxes of Christendom.”
“When he had confessed his error, you let him
go?”
“Hum!—with my blessing. There was some interchange
of commodities between us, and then we
parted. I left him smoking his pipe, in a heavy sea,
with his fore-topmast over the side, his mizzenmast
under his counter, and some six or seven holes in his
bottom, that let in the water just as fast as the pumps
discharged it. You see he was in a fair way to acquire
his portion of the inheritance. But Heaven
had ordained it all, and he was satisfied!”
“And what flags are these which you have passed?
They seem rich, and many.”
“These are England; like herself, aristocratic,
party-coloured, and a good deal touched by humour.
Here is bunting to note all ranks and conditions, as
if men were not made of the same flesh, and the
people of one kingdom might not all sail honestly
under the same emblems. Here is my Lord High
Admiral; your St. George; your field of red, and of
blue, as chance may give you a leader, or the humour
of the moment prevail; the stripes of mother India,
and the Royal Standard itself!”
“The Royal Standard!”
“Why not? a commander is termed a `monarch
in his ship.' Ay; this is the Standard of the King;
an Admiral!”
“This needs explanation!” exclaimed his listener,
who seemed to feel much that sort of horror that a
churchman would discover at the detection of sacrilege.
To wear the Royal Standard in presence of
a flag! We all know how difficult, and even dangerous,
it becomes, to sport a simple pennant, with the
eyes of a King's cruiser on us—”
“I love to flaunt the rascals!” interrupted the
other, with a smothered, but bitter laugh. “There
is pleasure in the thing!—In order to punish, they
must possess the power; an experiment often made,
but never yet successful. You understand balancing
accounts with the law, by showing a broad sheet of
canvas! I need say no more.”
“And which of all these flags do you most
use?” demanded Wilder, after a moment of intense
thought.
“As to mere sailing, I am as whimsical as a girl
in her teens in the choice of her ribbons. I will
often show you a dozen in a day. Many is the worthy
trader who has gone into port with his veritable
account of this Dutchman, or that Dane, with whom
he has spoken in the offing. As to fighting, though I
have been known to indulge a humour, too, in that
particular, still is there one which I most affect.”
“And that is?—”
The Captain kept his hand, for a moment, on the
roll he had touched, and seemed to read the very
soul of his visiter, so intent and keen was his look
the while. Then, suffering the bunting to fall, a
deep, blood-red field, without relief or ornament of
any sort, unfolded itself, as he answered, with emphasis,—
“This.”
“That is the colour of a Rover!”
“Ay, it is red! I like it better than your gloomy
scare-crows. It threatens nothing; but merely says.
`Such is the price at which I am to be bought.' Mr
Wilder,” he added, losing the mixture of irony and
pleasantry with which he had supported the previous
dialogue, in an air of authority, “We understand
each other. It is time that each should sail
under his proper colours. I need not tell you who
I am.”
“I believe it is unnecessary,” said Wilder. “If
I can comprehend these palpable signs, I stand in
presence of—of—”
“The Red Rover,” continued the other, observing
that he hesitated to pronounce the appalling name.
“It is true; and I hope this interview is the commencement
of a durable and firm friendship. I
know not the secret cause, but, from the moment of
our meeting, a strong and indefinable interest has
drawn me towards you. Perhaps I felt the void
which my situation has drawn about me;—be that
as it may, I receive you with a longing heart and
open arms.”
Though it must be very evident, from what preceded
this open avowal, that Wilder was not ignorant
of the character of the ship on board of which
he had just ventured, yet did he not receive the acknowledgment
without embarrassment. The reputation
of this renowned freebooter, his daring, his
acts of liberality and licentiousness so frequently
blended, and his desperate disregard of life on all
occasions, were probably crowding together in the
recollection of our more youthful adventurer, and
caused him to feel that species of responsible hesitation,
to which we are all more or less subject on
the occurrence of important events, be they ever so
much expected.
“You have not mistaken my purpose, or my suspicions,”
he at length answered, “for I own I have
and, from this moment, you will rate me in
whatever station you may think me best able to discharge
my duty with credit.”
“You are next to myself. In the morning, the
same shall be proclaimed on the quarter-deck; and,
in the event of my death, unless I am deceived in
my man, you will prove my successor. This may
strike you as sudden confidence. It is so, in part, I
must acknowledge; but our shipping lists cannot be
opened, like those of the King, by beat of drum in
the streets of the metropolis; and, then, am I no
judge of the human heart, if my frank reliance on
your faith does not, in itself, strengthen your good
feelings in my favour.”
“It does!” exclaimed Wilder, with sudden and
deep emphasis.
The Rover smiled calmly, as he continued,—
“Young gentlemen of your years are apt to carry
no small portion of their hearts in their hands. But,
notwithstanding this seeming sympathy, in order that
you may have sufficient respect for the discretion of
your leader, it is necessary that I should say we have
met before. I was apprised of your intention to seek
me out, and to offer to join me.”
“It is impossible!” cried Wilder, “No human
being—”
“Can ever be certain his secrets are safe,” interrupted
the other, “when he carries a face as ingenuous
as your own. It is but four-and-twenty hours
since you were in the good town of Boston.”
“I admit that much; but—”
“You will soon admit the rest. You were too
curious in your inquiries of the dolt who declares
he was robbed by us of his provisions and sails. The
false-tongued villain! It may be well for him to keep
from my path, or he may get a lesson that shall prick
his honesty. Does he think such pitiful game as he
or even to lower a boat into the sea!”
“Is not his statement, then, true?” demanded
Wilder, in a surprise he took no pains to conceal.
“True! Am I what report has made me? Look
keenly at the monster, that nothing may escape you,”
returned the Rover, with a hollow laugh, in which
scorn struggled to keep down the feelings of wounded
pride. “Where are the horns, and the cloven
foot? Snuff the air: Is it not tainted with sulphur?
But enough of this. I knew of your inquiries, and
liked your mien. In short, you were my study; and,
though my approaches were made with some caution,
they were sufficiently nigh to effect the object.
You pleased me, Wilder; and I hope the satisfaction
may be mutual.”
The newly engaged buccanier bowed to the compliment
of his superior, and appeared at some little
loss for a reply: As if to get rid of the subject at
once, he hurriedly observed,—
“As we now understand each other, I will intrude
no longer, but leave you for the night, and return to
my duty in the morning.”
“Leave me!” returned the Rover, stopping short
in his walk, and fastening his eye keenly on the
other. “It is not usual for my officers to leave me
at this hour. A sailor should love his ship, and never
sleep out of her, unless on compulsion.”
“We may as well understand each other,” said
Wilder, quickly. “If it is to be a slave, and, like
one of the bolts, a fixture in the vessel, that you need
me, our bargain is at an end.”
“Hum! I admire your spirit, sir, much more than
your discretion. You will find me an attached friend,
and one who little likes a separation, however short.
Is there not enough to content you here? I will not
speak of such low considerations as those which administer
to the ordinary appetites. But, you have
you have taste; here is elegance—you are poor;
here is wealth.”
“They amount to nothing, without liberty,” coldly
returned the other.
“And what is this liberty you ask? I hope, young
man, you would not so soon betray the confidence
you have just received! Our acquaintance is but
short, and I may have been too hasty in my faith.”
“I must return to the land,” Wilder added, firmly,
“if it be only to know that I am intrusted, and am
not a prisoner.”
“There is generous sentiment, or deep villany,
in all this,” resumed the Rover, after a minute of
deep thought. “I will believe the former. Declare
to me, that, while in the town of Newport,
you will inform no soul of the true character of this
ship.”
“I will swear it,” eagerly interrupted Wilder.
“On this cross,” rejoined the Rover, with a sarcastic
laugh; “on this diamond-mounted cross! No,
sir,” he added, with a proud curl of the lip, as he
cast the jewel contemptuously aside, “oaths are made
for men who need laws to keep them to their promises;
I need no more than the clear and unequivocal
affirmation of a gentleman.”
“Then, plainly and unequivocally do I declare,
that, while in Newport, I will discover the character
of this ship to no one, without your wish, or order,
so to do. Nay more”—
“No more. It is wise to be sparing of our pledges,
and to say no more than the occasion requires. The
time may come when you might do good to yourself,
without harming me, by being unfettered by a promise.
In an hour, you shall land; that time will be
needed to make you acquainted with the terms of
your enlistment, and to grace my rolls with your
gong, “you are wanted, boy.”
The same active lad, that had made his appearance
at the first summons, ran up the steps from the
cabin beneath, and announced his presence again by
his voice.
“Roderick,” continued the Rover, “this is my
future lieutenant, and, of course, your officer, and
my friend. Will you take refreshment, sir? there
is little, that man needs, which Roderick cannot
supply.”
“I thank you; I have need of none.”
“Then, have the goodness to follow the boy. He
will show you into the dining apartment beneath,
and give you the written regulations. In an hour,
you will have digested the code, and by that time I
shall be with you. Throw the light more upon the
ladder, boy; you can descend without a ladder though,
it would seem, or I should not, at this moment, have
the pleasure of your company.”
The intelligent smile of the Rover was unanswered
by any corresponding evidence from the subject
of his joke, that he found satisfaction in the remembrance
of the awkward situation in which he had
been left in the tower. The former caught the displeased
expression of the other's countenance, as he
gravely prepared to follow the boy, who already stood
in the hatchway with a light. Advancing a step,
with the grace and tones of sensitive breeding, he
said quickly,—
“Mr Wilder, I owe you an apology for my seeming
rudeness at parting on the hill. Though I believed
you mine, I was not sure of my acquisition. You
will readily see how necessary it might be, to one in
my situation, to throw off a companion at such a
moment.”
Wilder turned, with a countenance from which
to him to say no more.
“It was awkward enough, certainly, to find one's
self in such a prison; but I feel the justice of what
you say. I might have done the very thing myself,
if the same presence of mind were at hand to help
me.”
“The good man, who grinds in the Newport ruin,
must be in a sad way, since all the rats are leaving
his mill,” cried the Rover gaily, as his companion
descended after the boy. Wilder now freely returned
his open, cordial laugh, and then, as he descended,
the cabin was left to him who, a few minutes before,
had been found in its quiet possession.
| CHAPTER VI. The Red Rover | |