University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.
THE EAST-INDIAN'S DAUGHTER.

To account for this new manœuvre of the merchantman we will once more
return on board of her. After Freemantle had set and got answers to his telegraphic
signals, the East Indian merchant, Mr. Forrest, came up to him and
taking him by the hand said,

`Now my brave youth, for youth I may call you, though you have achieved
what few with gray heads and three score years experience could have succeeded
in accomplishing, come with me and let me present you to one who
would also thank you as well as see the gallant seaman to whom she owes her
liberty, and that of her father.'

`Your daughter, sir?' asked the young man with a heightened color.

`Yes.'

`I trust she has received no injury amid all this firing.'

`No. I sent her below, albeit, she would have insisted on remaining on
deck and seeing the matter out. She is a brave girl and did not like to hide
from shot. Come, sir, will you accompany me below?'

`Not just this moment, if you please, Mr. Forrest, answered the youth; `I
am not in a fit condition to appear before a lady; for you see I am grim with
powder and not quite in toilet.'

`That is the way with all you handsome young fellows; you are not content,
with the superabundance of good looks nature heaps upon you, but these you
must improve if you can. Now a brave man don't want pomatum nor curling
irons!'

`He may want water and a napkin, sir,' answered Freemantle laughing at
his manner. `But I would rather remain on deck to see how the ship gets
ahead and watch the corvette.'

`The corvette don't need any watching. She is putting her best foot foremost
to get away from your sharp eyes, and I dare say regrets she had not kept
away in the first place. What could have led you to undertake to protect us
from so large a vessel. The very idea was madness.'

`I knew that I had any sloop of war at vantage with her usual weight of
metal; that with my sixty-four pounder she could not come within reach of

me, while I could do her immense mischief by cannonading her from a distance.'

`And this you did most skillfully. I never was so much surprised at any
thing in my life as when I saw you bear down, signalize us, and then open
your fire upon the corvette. We already considered ourselves prisoners; but
I must confess your intrepidity and the well directed fire you kept up gave us
new courage. But when we at last came under the guns of the Englishman
all we had to do was to thank the brave privateersman in our hearts for his
good intentions in our behalf and strike our colors. But there it flies again,
and the ship and all on board is more rightfully yours, Captain Freematle, than
it would have been the Englishman's, if we were now lashed along side of
him.'

`All on board, sir?' asked the young seaman archly.

`Yes—no! Oh, you rogue! You are thinking of my daughter, eh! But
you have not seen her yet or you might covet her! But she is an exception.
All but Clara!' added the merchant playfully; for his joy at recovering his
ship and the safety of himself and daughter gave him high spirits.

Freemantle looked slightly grave, or rather sad at this reply. It was, however,
but a shadow of feeling, whatever might have produced it, and immediately
passed away from his fine face, leaving his features with that quiet, resolute
expression stamped upon them which so singularly characterized them.

`I will go down then and bring up the lady and let her thank you in person,
and if she says all why, perhaps I may; but we must know first if you like
her looks well enough to take her even as a prisoner of war,' added the proud
father, who confident in the peerless beauty of his child thus spoke to him of
her whom he was about to present to him.

Freemantle turned and walked rapidly aft as the merchant descended into
the cabin. Upon his face was a singular expression of perplexity and gratification.

`The merchant is in high spirits, sir,' said the captain of the ship to Hebert,
who at Freemantle's request had been from the instant he came on board aiding
the officers of the merchantman in getting necessary repairs completed,
and making more sail so that she could reach her port before night, it being
now within an hour of sunset. He had now completed his services and was
going aft to speak with Freemantle when the captain detained him.

`What is his name, sir?' asked Hebert. `Is he an American?'

`A Boston man born and bred; but went to India twenty years ago; married
there a beautiful English girl, and has a daughter more beautiful than her
mother, who died three years ago. His name is Foster Forrest, of the house
of Forrest & Co., Canton.'

`My uncle's friend,' exclaimed Hebert. `He has been long expecting him
and his daughter and feared he might be in this ship. That is feared when he
saw that you were likely to be captured.'

`There is no fear now, thanks to that confoundedly brave little fellow! If he

has'nt put a silver feather in his cap to day its because there ain't no honor in
being a brave man and a good sailor. I should'nt wonder if —'

But Hebert did not want to hear the end of his speech; for hastening to
Freemantle, who stood with his back towards him looking in the direction of
his schooner, but with an excited expression upon his face that showed plainly
his thoughts were not with his eyes, he said,

`Did you know, my brave captain, we have a fair East Indian on board! You
must play the hero and she the heroine. Besides she is a millionaire and rumor
says is a beauty. It is Miss Clara Forrest, the daughter of the dark looking
man I saw you talking with while I was showing those sailors how to set
the top-gailant yard that was shot out of the slings.'

Freemantle made no reply. He slightly smiled and then nibbled his under
lip as if annoyed. Hebert looked at him a moment and then with a mortified
look turned away, muttering,

`If he is as brave as a lion he is as cross as a tiger. But let him have his
humor. We shall be friends after we have sailed together awhile. If not we
can be enemies, that's one comfort! I should like to know who he is? Nobody
seems to know among his men. When I boarded him he frankly gave me his
hand, and as if he had known me all his life and at the same moment bluntly
asked me my name! When I told him what it was, and how I had come on
board to offer my aid in annoying the corvette, he received me warmly; but
when I told him afterwards in the cabin that I had been in the navy and courtmartialed,
he gave me the cold shoulder all at once, as if a broken midshipman
was'nt a better man than the skipper of a privateering raker, confound him!
But he is a brave fellow, though he carries his head quite too princely for my
taste! Mr. Hebert, he calls me, as if he could not remember the whole of a
man's name! He does'nt answer me unless he chooses, and presumes as much
on his captaincy as a reefer promoted to the command of the launch. Well, I
will try him and if we don't agree as he says it, we can part company. I am
tired of shore-life: and there is no chance of running away with my pretty
cousin yet awhile; for she has put her little foot down on that score very
resolutely. So I will try privateering for the love of adventure. If I humor
my hero, I can get along well enough, and by and by, for I have my eye ahead
of the present, I may be in command myself. He is so daring some lucky
ball may knock his head off ere long, and give me his birth.'

Such were the thoughts that passed through the mind, rather than emanated
from the lips, of Hebert Vincent, as he slowly walked away from the young
seaman who was both an object of his admiration and dislike, and also of his
fear; nevertheless he resolved on accepting the birth he offered him, hoping,
perhaps, meaning, that some occasion should befal which would place him in
the command to which his adventurous and loose ambition suddenly aspired.

His attention was now drawn to the East Indian Merchant who came on
deck leading his daughter. On beholding her, Hebert involuntarily raised his

hat and bowed to her, while the admiring gaze of his eyes did homage to her
charms.

Seeing him to be a stranger—a young man—and wearing the navy button
Clara Forrest at once supposed it to be the youthful captain of the privateer
of whom her father had been speaking to her in the warmest terms; and under
this impression she smiled, and was about to advance towards him with
generous warmth, her hand frankly extended when her father arrested her.

`Nay, Clara! That is one of his officers! There is the captain to whom
the first expressions of your gratitude are due.'

As he spoke he pointed aft to Freemantle, who stood with his face turned
perseveringly away, although he could not have been otherwise, than aware
that the merchant had returned to the deck with his daughter.

Clara Forrest was a brilliant girl of eighteen, matured by the glowing sun of
India into the full bloom of beauty. Her soft chesnut hair, shaded a complexion
of the purest olive, if a tint, a thought darker than a blonde can be termed
an olive. Her eyes were a pair of those large, open hazel orbs, fretted
with long curved lashes that are such a beautiful feature in the wild roe; yet
though the expression was as gentle, and deep as that of the roe, there was
no want in them of that sparkling light which is the radiation from a cheerful
spirit. Her form was slight, yet buoyant with health, and of the most be witching
symmetry. As she stepped across the deck towards the young captain,
after returning Hebert's bow, leaning upon her father's arm, she moved with
that grace of mien and faultless precision of step which marks the high bred
maiden of whatever land, and more especially of `the land of the sun and flowers.'

Before they got to him she eyed him earnestly, and with that startled look
with which one unexpectedly recogaizes an acquaintance, when expecting only
to behold a stranger. She pressed her father's arm—arrested her step—her
dark eyes expressed surprise, doubt, hope, pleasure, all in one earnest gaze
upon him. Still his back was towards her.

`Clara are you ill?' asked Mr. Forrest, observing her changing cheek, and
feeling her hand tremble as it grasped his arm.

`No—no sir!' she faltered.

At this crisis, the young privateersman turned suddenly round, fixed his eye
full upon hers with a glance of mingled love and warning, but so quick and
rapid was it that it was unobserved by all,save Herbert, who had noticed her
embarrassment, and was closely watching both her and him.

`They have met before;' he said, emphatically, as this peculiar glance from
him to her was detected by him. `Here is a mystery for me to unravel at my
leisure! My captain is likely to prove a hero indeed, and for what I see this
fine Indian girl a heroine. Is it possible that he can have seen her in India?
But let me watch the play.'

`This is my daughter,' captain. She desires to thank you for your gallant
rescue of the ship, and for her own escape from becoming a prisoner to the en
emy.'

The privateersman lifted his cap and bowed low before the beautiful girl
is face was glowing with a rich color, but hers was very pale. He did not
speak, nor could she. She made an effort twice to say something, and then
turning to her father, she said faintly,

`I am not well! Please to conduct me to my cabin!'

Alarmed and anxious he hastened to obey. The young sailor hesitated an
instant, then sprung forward and took her hand to aid him. At the entrance
of the cabin he left her to her father, but Hebert did not fail to detect a deep
glance—a soul—meeting-soul gaze that passed between them, as he turned
from her away, and a warm pressure of the clasped hands ere they were unlocked.

`Yes, they have not only met ere now,' he repeated still more emphatically
than before; `but they are lovers!'