 | CHAPTER XI. The pilot |  |
11. CHAPTER XI.
Welcome, Signior: you are almost come to part, almost a fray.
Much ado about nothing.
“Down with your arms, you Englishmen!” said
the daring intruder; “and you, who fight in the
cause of sacred liberty, stay your hands, that no
unnecessary blood may flow. Yield yourself, proud
Britons, to the power of the Thirteen Republics!”
“Ha!” exclaimed Borroughcliffe, grasping a
pistol, with an air of great resolution, “the work
thickens—I had not included this man in my estimate
of their numbers. Is he a Sampson, that
his single arm can change the face of things so
suddenly! Down with your own weapon, you
masquerader, or, at the report of this pistol, your
body shall become a target for twenty bullets.”
“And thine for a hundred!” returned the pilot
—“without there! wind your call, fellow, and
bring in our numbers. We will let this confident
gentleman feel his weakness.”
He had not done speaking, before the shrill whistle
of a boatswain rose gradually on the ears of the
listeners, until the sense of hearing became painfully
oppressed, by the piercing sounds that rung
under the arched roof of the hall, and penetrated
tremendous rush of men followed, who drove in
before them the terrified fragment of Borroughcliffe's
command, that had held the vestibule; and
the outer room became filled with a dark mass of
human bodies.
“Let them hear ye, lads!” cried their leader;
“the Abbey is your own!”
The roaring of a tempest was not louder than
the shout that burst from his followers, who continued
their cheers, peal on peal, until the very
roof of the edifice appeared to tremble with their
vibrations. Numerous dark and shaggy heads
were seen moving around the passage; some cased
in the iron-bound caps of the frigate's boarders,
and others glittering with the brazen ornaments of
her marine guard. The sight of the latter did not
fail to attract the eye of Manual, who rushed
among the throng, and soon re-appeared, followed
by a trusty band of his own men, who took possession
of the posts held by the soldiers of Borroughcliffe,
while the dialogue was continued between
the leaders of the adverse parties.
Thus far Col. Howard had yielded to his guest,
with a deep reverence for the principles of military
subordination, the functions of a commander, but,
now that affairs appeared to change so materially,
he took on himself the right to question these intruders
into his dwelling.
“By what authority, sir,” the colonel demanded,
“is it that you dare thus to invade the castle
of a subject of this realm? Do you come backed
by the commission of the lord lieutenant of the
county, or has your warrant the signature of His
Majesty's Secretary for the Home Department?”
“I bear no commission from any quarter,” returned
the pilot; “I rank only a humble follower
these gentlemen into danger, I have thought it my
duty to see them extricated. They are now safe;
and the right to command all that hear me, rests
with Mr. Griffith, who is commissioned by the
Continental Congress for such service.”
When he had spoken he fell back from the position
he occupied, in the centre of the room, to
one of its sides, where, leaning his body against
the wainscot, he stood a silent observer of what
followed—
“It appears, then, that it is to you, degenerate
son of a most worthy father, that I must repeat my
demand,” continued the veteran. “By what right
is my dwelling thus rudely assailed? and why is
my quiet, and the peace of those I protect, so daringly
violated?”
“I might answer you, Col. Howard, by saying
that it is according to the laws of arms, or rather
in retaliation for the thousand evils that your English
troops have inflicted, between Maine and
Georgia; but I wish not to increase the unpleasant
character of this scene, and will tell you, that
our advantage shall be used with moderation.
The instant that our men can be collected, and
our prisoners properly secured, your dwelling shall
be restored to your authority. We are no freebooters,
sir, and you will find it so after our departure.
Capt. Manual, draw off your guard into
the grounds, and make your dispositions for a return
march to our boats—let the boarders fall
back, there! out with ye! out with ye—tumble
out, you boarders!”
The amicable order of the young lieutenant,
which was delivered after the stern, quick fashion
of his profession, operated on the cluster of dark
a charm; and as the men whom Barnstable had
led, followed their shipmates into the court-yard,
the room was now left to such only, as might be
termed the gentlemen of the invading party, and
the family of Col. Howard.
Barnstable had continued silent since his senior
officer had assumed the command, listening most
attentively to each syllable that fell from either
side; but now that so few remained, and the time
pressed, he spoke again—
“If we are to take boat so soon, Mr. Griffith,
it would be seemly that due preparations should
be made to receive the ladies, who are to honour
us with their presence; shall I take that duty on
myself?”
The abrupt proposal produced a universal surprise
in his hearers; though the abashed and conscious
expression of Katherine Plowden's features,
sufficiently indicated, that to her, at least, it
was not altogether unexpected. The long silence
that succeeded the question, was interrupted by
Col. Howard.
“Ye are masters, gentlemen; help yourselves
to whatever best suits your inclinations. My
dwelling, my goods, and my wards, are alike at
your disposal—or, perhaps Miss Alice, here, good
and kind Miss Alice Dunscomb, may suit the taste
of some among ye! Ah! Edward Griffith! Edward
Griffith! little did I ever—”
“Breathe not that name in levity again, thou
scoffer, or even your years may prove a feeble protection!”
said a stern, startling voice from behind.
All eyes turned involuntarily at the unexpected
sounds, and the muscular form of the Pilot was seen
resuming its attitude of repose against the wall,
suppressed passion.
When the astonished looks of Griffith ceased to
dwell on this extraordinary exhibition of interest
in his companion, they were turned imploringly
towards the fair cousins, who still occupied the
distant corner, whither fear had impelled them.
“I have said, that we are not midnight marauders,
Col. Howard,” he replied; “but if any there
be here, who will deign to commit themselves to
our keeping, I trust it will not be necessary to say,
at this hour, what will be their reception.”
“We have not time for unnecessary compliments,”
cried the impatient Barnstable; “here is
Merry, who, by years and blood, is a suitable assistant
for them, in arranging their little baggage—
what say you, urchin, can you play the ladies'
maid on emergency?”
“Ay, sir, and better than I acted the pedler-boy,”
cried the gay youngster; “to have my merry
cousin Kate, and my good cousin Cicely for
shipmates, I could play our common grandmother!
Come, coz, let us be moving; you will
have to allow a little lee-way in time, for my awkwardness.”
“Stand back, young man,” said Miss Howard,
repulsing his familiar attempt to take her arm;
and then advancing, with a maidenly dignity,
nigher to her guardian, she continued, “I cannot
know what stipulations have been made by my
cousin Plowden, in the secret treaty she has made
this night with Mr. Barnstable; this for myself, Col.
Howard, I would have you credit your brother's
child when she says, that, to her, the events of the
hour have not been more unexpected than to yourself.”
The veteran gazed at her, for a moment, with an
expression of his eye that denoted reviving tenderness;
but gloomy doubts appeared to cross his
mind again, and he shook his head, as he walked
proudly away.
“Nay, then,” added Cecilia, her head dropping
meekly on her bosom, “I may be discredited by
my uncle, but I cannot be disgraced without some
act of my own.”
She slowly raised her mild countenance again,
and bending her eyes on her lover, she continued,
while a rich rush of blood passed over her fine
features—
“Edward Griffith, I will not, I cannot say
how humiliating it is to think that you can, for
an instant, believe I would again forget myself
so much as to wish to desert him whom God
has given me for a protector, for one chosen
by my own erring passions. And you, Andrew
Merry! learn to respect the child of your mother's
sister, if not for her own sake, at least for that of
her who watched your cradle!”
“Here appears to be some mistake,” said Barnstable,
who participated, however, in no trifling
degree, in the embarrassment of the abashed boy;
“but, like all other mistakes on such subjects, it
can be explained away, I suppose. Mr. Griffith,
it remains for you to speak:—damn it, man,” he
whispered, “you are as dumb as a cod-fish—I am
sure so fine a woman is worth a little fair weather
talk:—you are muter than a four-footed beast—
even an ass can bray!”
“We will hasten our departure, Mr. Barnstable,”
said Griffith, sighing heavily, and rousing, as
if from a trance. “These rude sights cannot but
be appalling to the ladies. You will please, sir,
to direct the order of our march to the shore.
must all be secured, to answer for an equal number
of our own countrymen.”
“And our countrywomen!” said Barnstable,
“are they to be forgotten, in the selfish recollection
of our own security!”
“With them we have no right to interfere, unless
at their request.”
“By Heaven! Mr. Griffith, this may smack of
learning,” cried the other, “and it may plead bookish
authority as its precedent; but, let me tell
you, sir, it savours but a little of sailor's love.”
“Is it unworthy of a seaman, and a gentleman,
to permit the woman he calls his mistress to be
so, other than in name?”
“Well, then, Griff, I pity you, from my soul.
I would rather have had a sharp struggle for the
happiness that I shall now obtain so easily, than
that you should be thus cruelly disappointed. But
you cannot blame me, my friend, that I avail myself
of fortune's favour. Miss Plowden, your fair
hand. Colonel Howard, I return you a thousand
thanks for the care you have taken, hitherto, of
this precious charge, and believe me, sir, that I
speak frankly, when I say, that next to myself, I
should choose to intrust her with you in preference
to any man on earth.”
The Colonel turned to the speaker, and bowed
low, while he answered with grave courtesy—
“Sir, you repay my slight services with too
much gratitude. If Miss Katherine Plowden has
not become under my guardianship, all that her
good father, Capt. John Plowden, of the Royal
Navy, could have wished a daughter of his to be,
the fault, unquestionably, is to be attributed to my
inability to instruct, and to no inherent quality in
the young lady herself. I will not say, take her,
and it would be out of my power to alter the arrangement;
I, therefore, can only wish that you
may find her as dutiful as a wife, as she has been,
hitherto, as a ward and a subject.”
Katherine had yielded her hand, passively, to
her lover, and suffered him to lead her more into
the circle than she had before been; but now she
threw off his arm, and shaking aside the dark curls
which she had rather invited to fall in disorder
around her brow, she raised her face and looked
proudly up, with an eye that sparkled with the spirit
of its mistress, and a face that grew pale with
emotion at each moment, as she proceeded—
“Gentlemen, the one may be as ready to receive
as the other is to reject; but has the daughter
of John Plowden no voice in this cool disposal of
her person! If her guardian tires of her presence,
other habitations may be found, without inflicting
so severe a penalty on this gentleman, as to compel
him to provide for her accommodation in a
vessel which must be already straitened for room!”
She turned, and rejoined her cousin with such
an air of maidenly resentment, as a young woman
would be apt to discover, who found herself the
subject of matrimonial arrangement, without her
own feelings being at all consulted. Barnstable,
who knew but little of the windings of the female
heart, or how necessary to his mistress, notwithstanding
her previous declarations, the countenance
of Cecilia was, to any decided and open act in
his favour, stood in stupid wonder at her declaration.
He could not conceive that a woman who
had already ventured so much in secret in his behalf,
and who had so often avowed her weakness,
should shrink to declare it again, at such a crisis,
looked from one of the party to the other, and met
in every face an expression of delicate reserve,
except in those of the guardian of his mistress, and
of Borroughcliffe.
The colonel had given a glance of returning
favour at her, whom, he now conceived, to be his
repentant ward, while the countenance of the entrapped
captain exhibited a look of droll surprise,
blended with the expression of bitter ferocity
it had manifested since the discovery of his own
mishap.
“Perhaps, sir,” said Barnstable, addressing the
latter, fiercely, “you see something amusing
about the person of this lady, to divert you thus
unseasonably. We tolerate no such treatment
of our women in America!
“Nor do we quarrel before ours in England,”
returned the soldier, throwing back the fierce
glance of the sailor, with interest; “but I was
thinking of the revolutions that time can produce!
nothing more I do assure you. It is not half an
hour since I thought myself a most happy fellow;
secure in my plans for overreaching the scheme you
had laid to surprise me; and now I am as miserable
a dog as wears a single epaulette, and has no hope
of seeing its fellow!”
“And in what manner, sir, can this sudden
change apply to me?” asked Katherine, with all
her spirit.
“Certainly not to your perseverance in the project
to assist my enemies, madam,” returned the
soldier with affected humility; “nor to your zeal
for their success, or your consummate coolness at
the supper table! But I find it is time that I
should be superannuated—I can no longer serve
my king with credit, and should take to serving
My hearing is surely defective, or a paddock
wall has a most magical effect in determining
sounds!”
Katherine waited not to hear the close of this
sentence, but walked to a distant part of the
room, to conceal the burning blushes that covered
her countenance. The manner in which the plans
of Borroughcliffe had become known to his foe, was
no longer a mystery, and her conscience reproached
her a little also, with some unnecessary coquetry;
for she remembered, that quite one half of the dialogue
between her lover and herself, under the
shadow of that very wall to which Borroughcliffe
alluded, had been on a subject altogether foreign
to contention and tumults. As the feelings of
Barnstable were by no means so sensitive as those
of his mistress, and his thoughts much occupied
with the means of attaining his object, he did not
so readily comprehend the indirect allusion of the
soldier, but turned abruptly away to Griffith, and
observed, with a serious air—
“I feel it my duty, Mr. Griffith, to suggest,
that we have standing instructions to secure all the
enemies of America, wherever they may be found,
and to remind you, that the States have not hesitated
to make prisoners of females, in many instances.”
“Bravo!” cried Borroughcliffe; “if the ladies
will not go as your mistresses, take them as your
captives!”
“'Tis well for you, sir, that you are a captive
yourself, or you should be made to answer for this
speech,” retorted the irritated Barnstable. “It is
a responsible command, Mr. Griffith, and must not
be disregarded.”
“To your duty, Mr. Barnstable,” said Griffith,
have your orders, sir; let them be executed
promptly.”
“I have also the orders of our common superior,
Capt. Munson, Mr. Griffith; and I do assure
you, sir, that in making out my instructions for
the Ariel—poor thing! there are no two of her timbers
hanging together!—but my instructions were
decidedly particular on that head.”
“And my orders now supersede them.”
“But am I justifiable in obeying a verbal order
from an inferior, in direct opposition to a written
instruction?”
Griffith had hitherto manifested in his deportment
nothing more than a cold determination
to act, but the blood now flew to every vessel in
his cheeks and forehead, and his dark eyes flashed
fire, as he cried authoritatively—
“How, sir! do you hesitate to obey?”
“By heaven, sir, I would dispute the command
of the Continental Congress itself, should they bid
me so far to forget my duty to—to—”
“Add yourself, sir!—Mr. Barnstable, let this be
the last of it. To your duty, sir.”
“My duty calls me here, Mr. Griffith.”
“I must act, then, or be bearded by my own
officers. Mr. Merry, direct Capt. Manual to send
in a serjeant, and a file of marines.”
“Bid him come on himself!” cried Barnstable,
maddened to desperation by his disappointment;
“ 'tis not his whole corps that can disarm me—let
them come on! Hear, there, you Ariels! rally
around your captain.”
“The man among them, who dares to cross that
threshold without my order, dies,” cried Griffith,
menacing, with a naked sabre, the seamen, who had
promptly advanced at the call of their old commander.
spare yourself the disgrace of having it forced
from you by a common soldier.”
“Let me see the dog who dare attempt it!”
exclaimed Barnstable, flourishing his weapon in
fierce anger. Griffith had extended his own arm,
in the earnestness of his feelings, and their sabres
crossed each other. The clashing of the steel
operated on both like the sound of the clarion on a
war-horse, and there were sudden and rapid blows,
and as rapid parries, exchanged between the flashing
weapons.
“Barnstable! Barnstable!” cried Katherine,
rushing into his arms, “I will go with you to the
ends of the earth!”
Cecilia Howard did not speak; but when
Griffith recovered his coolness, he beheld her
beautiful form kneeling at his feet, with her pale
face bent imploringly on his own disturbed countenance.
The cry of Miss Plowden had separated
the combatants, before an opportunity for
shedding blood had been afforded, but the young
men exchanged looks of keen resentment, notwithstanding
the interference of their mistresses. At
this moment Col. Howard advanced, and raising
his niece from her humble posture, said—
“This is not a situation for a child of Harry
Howard, though she knelt in the presence, and
before the throne of her Sovereign. Behold, my
dear Cecilia, the natural consequences of this rebellion!
It scatters discord in their ranks; and,
by its damnable levelling principles, destroys all
distinction of rank among themselves; even these
rash boys know not where obedience is due!”
“It is due to me,” said the Pilot, who now
stepped forward among the agitated group, “and
it is time that I enforce it. Mr. Griffith, sheath
authority of your senior officer, and have forgotten
the obligation of your oath, submit, and return
to your duty.”
Griffith started at the sounds of his calm voice,
as if with sudden recollection; and then bowing
low, he returned the weapon to its scabbard. But
Barnstable still encircled the waist of his mistress
with one arm, while, with the other, he brandished
his sabre, and laughed with scorn at this extraordinary
assumption of authority.
“And who is this!” he cried, “who dare give
such an order to me!”
The eyes of the Pilot flashed with a terrible fire,
while a fierce glow seemed to be creeping over his
whole frame, which actually quivered with passion.
But, suppressing this exhibition of his feelings,
by a sudden and powerful effort, he answered,
in an emphatic manner—
“One who has a right to order, and who will
be obeyed!”
The extraordinary manner of the speaker, contributed
as much as his singular assertion, to induce
Barnstable, in his surprise, to lower the point
of his weapon, with an air that might easily have
been mistaken for submission. The Pilot fastened
his glowing eyes on him, for an instant, and
then turning to the rest of the listeners, he continued,
more mildly—
“It is true that we came not here as marauders,
and that our wish is, to do no unnecessary acts of
severity to the aged and the helpless. But this
officer of the Crown, and this truant American,
in particular, are fairly our prisoners; as such,
they must be conducted on board our ship.”
“But the main object of our expedition?”—said
Griffith.
“'Tis lost,” returned the Pilot, hastily—“ 'tis
sacrificed to more private feelings; 'tis like a hundred
others, ended in disappointment, and is forgotten,
sir, for ever. But the interests of the Republics
must not be neglected, Mr. Griffith.—
Though we are not madly to endanger the lives of
those gallant fellows, to gain a love-smile from
one young beauty, neither are we to forget the advantages
they may have obtained for us, in order
to procure one of approbation from another. This,
Col. Howard, will answer well, in a bargain with
the minions of the Crown, and may purchase the
freedom of some worthy patriot, who is deserving
of his liberty. Nay, nay, suppress that haughty
look, and turn that proud eye on any, rather than
me! he goes to the frigate, sir, and that immediately.”
“Then,” said Cecilia Howard, timidly approaching
the spot where her uncle stood, a
disdainful witness of the dissensions amongst his
captors; “then, will I go with him! He shall
never be a resident among his enemies alone!”
“It would be more ingenuous, and more worthy
of my brother's daughter,” said her uncle,
coldly, “if she ascribed her willingness to depart
to its proper motive.” Disregarding the look of
deep distress with which Cecilia received this
mortifying rejection of her tender attention, the
old man walked towards Borroughcliffe, who
was gnawing the hilt of his sword, in very
vexation at the downfall of his high-raised hopes,
and placing himself by his side, with an air of infinitely
dignified submission, he continued, “act
your pleasure on us, gentlemen: you are the conquerors,
and we must even submit. A brave man
knows as well how to yield, with decorum, as to
defend himself stoutly, when he is not surprised,
ever offer!—Act your pleasures, gentlemen; no
two lambs were ever half so meek as Capt. Borroughcliffe
and myself.”
The smile of affected, but bitter resignation,
that the colonel bestowed on his fellow prisoner,
was returned by that officer, with an attempt at
risibility that abundantly betokened the disturbed
state of his feelings. The two, however, succeeded
in so far maintaining appearances, as to
contemplate the succeeding movements of the conquerors,
with a sufficient degree of composure.
The colonel steadily, and coldly, rejected the
advances of his niece, who bowed meekly to his
will, and relinquished, for the present, the hope of
bringing him to a sense of his injustice. She however,
employed herself in earnest, to give such directions
as were necessary to enforce the resolution
she had avowed, and in this unexpected employment
she found both a ready and a willing assistant
in her cousin. The latter, unknown to Miss
Howard, had, in anticipation of some such event
as the present, long since made, in secret, all those
preparations which might become necessary to a
sudden flight from the Abbey. In conjunction
with her lover then, who, perceiving that the plan
of the Pilot was furthering his own views, deemed
it most wise to forget his quarrel with that mysterious
individual, she flew to point out the means,
of securing those articles which were already in
preparation. Barnstable and Merry accompanied
her light steps among the narrow, dark passages
of the Abbey, with the utmost delight; the former
repeatedly apostrophizing her wit and beauty, and,
indeed, all of her various merits, and the latter,
laughing, and indulging those buoyant spirits,
be supposed to feel, in such a scene, and under
such circumstances. It was fortunate for her cousin,
that Katherine had possessed so much forethought,
for the attention of Cecilia Howard was
directed much more to the comforts of her uncle,
than to those which were necessary for herself. Attended
by Alice Dunscombe, the young mistress
of St. Ruth moved through the solitary apartments
of the building, listening to the mild, religious consolation
of her companion, in silence, at times
yielding to those bursts of mortified feeling, that
she could not repress, or again as calmly giving her
orders to her maids, as if the intended movement
was one of but ordinary interest. All this time, the
party in the dining hall remained stationary. The
Pilot, as if satisfied with what he had already done,
sunk back to his reclining attitude against the
wall, though his eyes keenly watched every movement
of the preparations, in a manner which denoted
that his was the master spirit that directed
the whole. Griffith had, however, resumed, in
appearance, the command, and the busy seamen
addressed themselves for orders to him alone. In
this manner an hour was consumed, when Cecilia
and Katherine, appearing in succession, attired in a
suitable manner for their departure, and the baggage
of the whole party having been already entrusted
to a petty officer, and a party of his men,
Griffith gave forth the customary order to put the
whole in motion. The shrill, piercing whistle of
the boatswain once more rung among the galleries
and ceilings of the Abbey, and was followed by
the deep, hoarse cry of—
“Away, there! you shore-draft! away, there,
you boarders! ahead, heave ahead, sea-dogs!”
This extraordinary summons was succeeded by
without, when the whole party moved from the
building in the order that had been previously prescribed
by Capt. Manual, who acted as the marshal
of the forces on the occasion.
The Pilot had conducted his surprise with so
much skill and secrecy as to have secured every
individual about the Abbey, whether male or female,
soldier or civilian; and as it might be
dangerous to leave any behind who could convey
intelligence into the country, Griffith had ordered
that every human being, found in the building,
should be conducted to the cliffs; to be held in
durance, at least, until the departure of the last
boat to the cutter, which he was informed, lay
close in to the land, awaiting their re-embarkation.
The hurry of the departure had caused many
lights to be kindled in the Abbey, and the contrast
between the glare within, and the gloom
without, was most striking to the females, as they
issued into the paddock. One of those indefinable,
and unaccountable feelings, which so often
cross the human mind, induced Cecilia to pause at
the great gate of the grounds, and look back at
the Abbey, with a presentiment that she was to
behold it for the last time. The dark and ragged
outline of the edifice was clearly delineated against
the northern sky, while the open windows, and
neglected doors, permitted a view of the solitude
within. Twenty tapers were shedding their useless
light in the empty apartments, as if in
mockery of the deserted walls, and Cecilia turned,
shuddering, from the sight, to press nigher to
the person of her indignant uncle, with a secret impression,
that her presence would soon be more
necessary than ever to his happiness.
The low hum of voices in front, with the occasional
strains of the fife, and the stern mandates of
the sea-officers, soon recalled her, however, from
these visionary thoughts to the surrounding realities,
while the whole party pursued their way with
diligence to the margin of the ocean.
| CHAPTER XI. The pilot | |