 | CHAPTER IX. The Red Rover |  |
9. CHAPTER IX.
“He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall.”
—Shakspeare.
Wilder retired from the field like a defeated man.
Accident, or, as he was willing to term it, the sycophancy
of the old mariner, had counteracted his
own little artifice; and he was now left without the
remotest chance of being again favoured with such
another opportunity of effecting his purpose. We
shall not, at this period of the narrative, enter into
a detail of the feelings and policy which induced
our adventurer to plot against the apparent interests
of those with whom he had so recently associated
himself; it is enough, for our present object, that
the facts themselves should be distinctly set before
the reader.
The return of the disappointed young sailor, towards
the town, was moody and slow. More than
once he stopped short in the descent, and fastened
his eyes, for minutes together, on the different vessels
in the harbour. But, in these frequent halts, no
evidence of the particular interest he took in any
one of the ships escaped him. Perhaps his gaze at
the Southern trader was longer, and more earnest,
than at any other; though his eye, at times, wandered
curiously, and even anxiously, over every craft
that lay within the shelter of the haven.
The customary hour for exertion had now arrived,
and the sounds of labour were beginning to be heard,
issuing from every quarter of the place. The songs
of the mariners were rising on the calm of the morning,
with their peculiar, long-drawn intonations.
The ship in the inner harbour was among the first to
furnish this proof of the industry of her people, and
of her approaching departure. It was only as these
thoroughly awakened from his abstraction, and to
pursue his observations with an undivided mind.
He saw the seamen ascend the rigging, in that lazy
manner which is so strongly contrasted by their activity
in moments of need; and here and there a
human form was showing itself on the black and
ponderous yards. In a few moments, the fore-top-sail
fell, from its compact compass on the yard, into
graceful and careless festoons. This, the attentive
Wilder well knew, was, among all trading vessels,
the signal of sailing. In a few more minutes, the
lower angles of this important sail were drawn to
the extremities of the corresponding spar beneath;
and then the heavy yard was seen slowly ascending
the mast, dragging after it the opening folds of the
sail, until the latter was tightened at all its edges,
and displayed itself in one broad, snow-white sheet
of canvas. Against this wide surface the light currents
of air fell, and as often receded; the sail bellying
and collapsing in a manner to show that, as
yet, they were powerless. At this point the preparations
appeared suspended, as if the mariners,
having thus invited the breeze, were awaiting to see
if their invocation was likely to be attended with
success.
It was perhaps but a natural transition for him,
who so closely observed these indications of departure,
in the ship so often named, to turn his eyes on the
vessel which lay without the fort, in order to witness
the effect so manifest a signal had produced in her,
also. But the closest and the keenest scrutiny could
have detected no sign of any bond of interest between
the two. While the former was making the
movements just described, the latter lay at her anchors,
without the smallest proof that man existed
within the mass of her black and inanimate hull. So
quiet and motionless did she seem, that one, who had
have believed her a fixture in the sea, some symmetrical
and enormous excrescence thrown up by the
waves, with its mazes of lines and pointed fingers,
or one of those fantastic monsters that are believed
to exist in the bottom of the ocean, darkened by the
fogs and tempests of ages. But, to the understanding
eye of Wilder, she exhibited a very different
spectacle. He easily saw, through all this apparently
drowsy quietude, those signs of readiness which a
seaman only might discover. The cable, instead of
stretching in a long declining line towards the water,
was “short,” or nearly “up and down,” as it
is equally termed in technical language, just “scope”
enough being allowed out-board to resist the power
of the lively tide, which acted on the deep keel of
the vessel. All her boats were in the water, and so
disposed and prepared, as to convince him they were
in a state to be employed in towing, in the shortest
possible time. Not a sail, nor a yard, was out of its
place, undergoing those repairs and examinations
which the mariner is wont to make so often, when
lying within the security of a suitable haven; nor
was there a single rope wanting, amid the hundreds
which interlaced the blue sky that formed the back-ground
of the picture, that might be necessary, in
bringing every art of facilitating motion into instant
use. In short, the vessel, while seeming least prepared,
was most in a condition to move, or, if necessary,
to resort to her means of offence and defence.
The boarding-nettings, it is true, were triced to the
rigging, as on the previous day; but a sufficient apology
was to be found for this act of extreme caution,
in the war, which exposed her to attacks from the
light French cruisers, that so often ranged, from the
islands of the West-Indies, along the whole coast of
the Continent, and in the position the ship had taken,
without the ordinary defences of the harbour. In
appeared like some beast of prey, or venomous
reptile, that lay in an assumed lethargy, to delude
the unconscious victim within the limits of its leap,
or nigh enough to receive the deadly blow of its
fangs.
Wilder shook his head, in a manner which said
plainly enough how well he understood this treacherous
tranquillity, and continued his walk towards the
town, with the same deliberate step as before. He
had whiled away many minutes unconsciously, and
would probably have lost the reckoning of as many
more, had not his attention been suddenly diverted
by a slight touch on the shoulder. Starting at this
unexpected diversion, he turned, and saw, that, in his
dilatory progress, he had been overtaken by the seaman
whom he had last seen in that very society in
which he would have given so much to have been
included himself.
“Your young limbs should carry you ahead, Master,”
said the latter, when he had succeeded in attracting
the attention of Wilder, “like a 'Mudian
going with a clean full, and yet I have fore-reached
upon you with my old legs, in such a manner as to
bring us again within hail.”
“Perhaps you enjoy the extraordinary advantage
of `cutting the waves with your taffrail,' ” returned
Wilder, with a sneer. “There can be no accounting
for the head way one makes, when sailing in that
remarkable manner.”
“I see, brother, you are offended that I followed
your motions, though, in so doing, I did no more
than obey a signal of your own setting. Did you
expect an old sea-dog like me, who has stood his
watch so long in a flag-ship, to confess ignorance in
any matter that of right belongs to blue water? How
the devil was I to know that there is not some
sort of craft, among the thousands that are getting
say a ship is modelled from a fish; and, if such be
the case, it is only to make one after the fashion of
a crab, or an oyster, to have the very thing you
named.”
“It is well, old man. You have had your reward,
I suppose, in a handsome present from the
Admiral's widow, and you may now lie-by for a
season, without caring much as to the manner in
which they build their ships in future. Pray, do
you intend to shape your course much further down
this hill?”
“Until I get to the bottom.”
“I am glad of it, friend, for it is my especial intention
to go up it again. As we say at sea, when
our conversation is ended, `A good time to you!”'
The old seaman laughed, in his chuckling manner,
when he saw the young man turn abruptly on his
heel, and begin to retrace the very ground along
which he had just before descended.
“Ah! you have never sailed with a Rear-Admiral,”
he said, as he continued his own course in the
former direction, picking his way with a care suited
to his age and infirmities. “No, there is no getting
the finish, even at sea, without a cruise or two under
a flag, and that at the mizzen, too!”
“Intolerable old hypocrite!” muttered Wilder between
his teeth. “The rascal has seen better
days, and is now perverting his knowledge to juggle
a foolish woman, to his profit. I am well quit of the
knave, who, I dare say, has adopted lying for his
trade, now labour is unproductive. I will go back.
The coast is quite clear, and who can say what may
happen next?”
Most of the foregoing paragraph was actually uttered
in the suppressed manner already described,
while the rest was merely meditated, which, considering the fact that our adventurer had no auditor,
trumpet. The expectation thus vaguely expressed,
however, was not likely to be soon realized. Wilder
sauntered up the hill, endeavouring to assume the
unconcerned air of an idler, if by chance his return
should excite attention; but, though he lingered
long in open view of the windows of Mrs de Lacey's
villa, he was not able to catch another glimpse of
its tenants. There were very evident symptoms of
the approaching journey, in the trunks and packages
that left the building for the town, and in the hurried
and busy manner of the few servants that he
occasionally saw; but it would seem that the principal
personages of the establishment had withdrawn
into the secret recesses of the building, probably for
the very natural purpose of confidential communion
and affectionate leave-taking. He was turning,
vexed and disappointed, from his anxious and fruitless
watch, when he once more heard female voices
on the inner side of the low wall agaínst which he
had been leaning. The sounds approached; nor
was it long before his quick ears again recognized
the musical voice of Gertrude.
“It is tormenting ourselves, without sufficient
reason, my dear Madam,” she said, as the speakers
drew sufficiently nigh to be distinctly overheard, “to
allow any thing that may have fallen from such a—
such an individual, to make the slightest impression.”
“I feel the justice of what you say, my love,”
returned the mournful voice of her governess, “and
yet am I so weak as to be unable entirely to shake
off a sort of superstitious feeling on this subject.
Gertrude, would you not wish to see that youth
again?”
“Me, Ma'am!” exclaimed her élève, in a sort of
alarm. “Why should you, or I, wish to see an
utter stranger again? and one so low—not low
very suitable companion for”—
“Well-born ladies, you would say. And why do
you imagine the young man to be so much our inferior?”
Wilder thought there was a melody in the intonations
of the youthful voice of the maiden, which in
some measure excused the personality, as she answered.
“I am certainly not so fastidious in my notions of
birth and station as aunt de Lacey,” she said,
laughing; “but I should forget some of your own
instructions, dear Mrs Wyllys, did I not feel that
education and manners make a sensible difference
in the opinions and characters of all us poor mortals.”
“Very true, my child. But I confess I saw or
heard nothing that induces me to believe the young
man, of whom we are speaking, either uneducated
or vulgar. On the contrary, his language and pronunciation
were those of a gentleman, and his air
was quite suited to his utterance. He had the frank
and simple manner of his profession; but you are
not now to learn that youths of the first families in
the provinces, or even in the kingdom, are often
placed in the service of the marine.”
“But they are officers, dear Madam: this—this
individual wore the dress of a common mariner.”
“Not altogether. It was finer in its quality, and
more tasteful in its fashion, than is customary. I
have known Admirals do the same in their moments
of relaxation. Sailors of condition often love to
carry about them the testimonials of their profession,
without any of the trappings of their rank.”
“You then think he was an officer—perhaps in
the King's service?”
“He might well have been so, though the fact,
that there is no cruiser in the port, would seem to
contradict it. But it was not so trifling a circumstance
that I feel. Gertrude, my love, it was my fortune
to have been much with seamen in early life. I seldom
see one of that age, and of that spirited and
manly mien, without feeling emotion. But I tire
you; let us talk of other things.”
“Not in the least, dear Madam,” Gertrude hurriedly
interrupted. “Since you think the stranger
a gentleman, there can be no harm—that is, it is not
quite so improper, I believe—to speak of him. Can
there then be the danger he would make us think in
trusting ourselves in a ship of which we have so
good a report?”
“There was a strange, I had almost said wild,
admixture of irony and concern in his manner, that
is inexplicable! He certainly uttered nonsense part
of the time; but, then, he did not appear to do it
without a serious object. Gertrude, you are not as
familiar with nautical expressions as myself; and
perhaps you are ignorant that your good aunt, in her
admiration of a profession that she has certainly a
right to love, sometimes makes”—
“I know it—I know it; at least I often think so,”
the other interrupted, in a manner which plainly
manifested that she found no pleasure in dwelling on
the disagreeable subject. “It was exceedingly presuming,
Madam, in a stranger, however, to amuse
himself, if he did it, with so amiable and so trivial a
weakness, if indeed weakness it be.”
“It was,” Mrs Wyllys steadily continued—she
having, very evidently, such other matter in her
thoughts as to be a little inattentive to the sensitive
feelings of her companion;—“and yet he did not
appear to me like one of those empty minds that find
a pleasure in exposing the follies of others. You
may remember, Gertrude, that yesterday, while at
the ruin, Mrs de Lacey made some remarks expressive
of her admiration of a ship under sail.”
“Yes, yes, I remember them,” said the niece, a
little impatiently.
“One of her terms was particularly incorrect, as
I happened to know from my own familiarity with
the language of sailors.”
“I thought as much, by the expression of your
eye,” returned Gertrude; “but”—
“Listen, my love. It certainly was not remarkable
that a lady should make a trifling error in the
use of so peculiar a language, but it is singular that
a seaman himself should commit the same fault in
precisely the same words. This did the youth of
whom we are speaking; and, what is no less surprising,
the old man assented to the same, just as if
they had been correctly uttered.”
“Perhaps,” said Gertrude, in a low tone, “they
may have heard, that attachment to this description
of conversation is a foible of Mrs de Lacey. I am
sure, after this, dear Madam, you cannot any longer
consider the stranger a gentleman!”
“I should think no more about it, love, were it
not for a feeling I can neither account for nor define.
I would I could again see him!”
A slight exclamation from her companion interrupted
her words; and, the next instant, the subject
of her thoughts leaped the wall, apparently in quest
of the rattan that had fallen at the feet of Gertrude,
and occasioned her alarm. After apologizing for his
intrusion on the private grounds of Mrs de Lacey,
and recovering his lost property, Wilder was slowly
preparing to retire, as if nothing had happened.
There was a softness and delicacy in his manner,
during the first moment of his appearance, which
was probably intended to convince the younger of
the ladies that he was not entirely without some
claims to the title she had so recently denied him,
and which was certainly not without its effect. The
countenance of Mrs Wyllvs was pale, and her lip
it was not with alarm, as she hastily said,—
“Remain a moment, sir, if need does not require
your presence elsewhere. There is something so
remarkable in this meeting, that I could wish to
improve it.”
Wilder bowed, and again faced the ladies, whom
he had just been about to quit, like one who felt
he had no right to intrude a moment longer than had
been necessary to recover that which had been lost
by his pretended awkwardness. When Mrs Wyllys
found that her wish was so unexpectedly realized,
she hesitated as to the manner in which she should
next proceed.
“I have been thus bold, sir,” she said, in some
embarrassment, “on account of the opinion you so
lately expressed concerning the vessel which now
lies ready to put to sea, the instant she is favoured
with a wind.”
“`The Royal Caroline?”' Wilder carelessly
replied.
“That is her name, I believe.”
“I hope, Madam, that nothing which I have said,”
he hastily continued, “will have an effect to prejudice
you against the ship. I will pledge myself that
she is made of excellent materials, and then I have
not the least doubt but she is very ably commanded.”
“And yet have you not hesitated to say, that you
consider a passage in this very vessel more dangerous
than one in any other ship that will probably
leave a port of the Provinces in many months to
come.”
“I did,” answered Wilder, with a manner not to
be mistaken.
“Will you explain your reasons for this opinion?”
“If I remember rightly, I gave them to the lady
whom I had the honour to see an hour ago.”
“That individual, sir, is no longer here,” was the
person in the vessel. This young lady and myself,
with our attendants, will be the only passengers.”
“I understood it so,” returned Wilder, keeping
his thoughtful gaze riveted on the speaking countenance
of the deeply interested Gertrude.
“And, now that there is no apprehension of any
mistake, may I ask you to repeat the reasons why
you think there will be danger in embarking in the
`Royal Caroline?”'
Wilder started, and even had the grace to colour,
as he met the calm and attentive look of Mrs Wyllys's
searching, but placid eye.
“You would not have me repeat, Madam,” he
stammered, “what I have already said on the subject?”
“I would not, sir; once will suffice for such an
explanation; still am I persuaded you have other
reasons for your words.”
“It is exceedingly difficult for a seaman to speak
of ships in any other than technical language, which
must be the next thing to being unintelligible to one
of your sex and condition. You have never been at
sea, Madam?”
“Very often, sir.”
“Then may I hope, possibly, to make myself
understood. You must be conscious, Madam, that
no small part of the safety of a ship depends on the
very material point of keeping her right side upper-most:
sailors call it `making her stand up.' Now,
I need not say, I am quite sure, to a lady of your
intelligence, that, if the `Caroline' fall on her beam,
there will be imminent hazard to all on board.”
“Nothing can be clearer; but would not the
same risk be incurred in any other vessel?”
“Without doubt, if any other vessel should trip
But I have pursued my profession for many years,
without meeting with such a misfortune, but once.
Then, the fastenings of the bowsprit”—
“Are good as ever came from the hand of rigger,”
said a voice behind them.
The whole party turned; and beheld, at a little
distance, the old seaman already introduced,
mounted on some object on the other side of the
wall, against which he was very coolly leaning, and
whence he overlooked the whole of the interior of
the grounds.
“I have been at the water side to look at the boat,
at the wish of Madam de Lacey, the widow of my
late noble Commander and Admiral; and, let other
men think as they may, I am ready to swear that
the `Royal Caroline' has as well secured a bowsprit
as any ship that carries the British flag! Ay, nor is
that all I will say in her favour; she is throughout
neatly and lightly sparred, and has no more of a
wall-side than the walls of yonder church tumble-home.
I am an old man, and my reckoning has got
to the last leaf of the log-book; therefore it is little
interest that I have, or can have, in this brig or that
schooner, but this much will I say, which is, that it
is just as wicked, and as little likely to be forgiven,
to speak scandal of a wholesome and stout ship, as
it is to talk amiss of mortal Christian.”
The old man spoke with energy, and a great show
of honest indignation, which did not fail to make an
impression on the ladies, at the same time that it
brought certain ungrateful admonitions to the conscience
of the understanding Wilder.
“You perceive, sir,” said Mrs Wyllys, after waiting
in vain for the reply of the young seaman, “that
it is very possible for two men, of equal advantages,
to disagree on a professional point. Which am I to
believe?”
“Whichever your own excellent sense should tell
you is most likely to be correct. I repeat, and in a
sincerity to whose truth I call Heaven to witness, that
embark in the `Caroline.”'
“This is incomprehensible!” said Mrs Wyllys,
turning to Gertrude, and speaking only for her ear.
“My reason tells me we have been trifled with by
this young man; and yet are his protestations so
earnest, and apparently so sincere, that I cannot shake
off the impression they have made. To which of the
two, my love, do you feel most inclined to yield your
credence?”
“You know how very ignorant I am, dear Madam,
of all these things,” said Gertrude, dropping her eyes
to the faded sprig she was plucking; “but, to me,
that old wretch has a very presuming and vicious
look.”
“You then think the younger most entitled to our
belief?”
“Why not; since you, also, think he is a gentleman?”
“I know not that his superior situation in life entitles
him to greater credit. Men often obtain such
advantages only to abuse them.—I am afraid, sir,”
continued Mrs Wyllys, turning to the expecting
Wilder, “that unless you see fit to be more frank,
we shall be compelled to refuse you our faith, and
still persevere in our intention to profit, by the opportunity
of the `Royal Caroline,' to get to the
Carolinas.”
“From the bottom of my heart, Madam, do I regret
the determination.”
“It may still be in your power to change it, by
being explicit.”
Wilder appeared to muse, and once or twice his
lips moved, as if he were about to speak. Mrs
Wyllys and Gertrude awaited his intentions with
intense interest; but, after a long and seemingly
hesitating pause, he disappointed both, by saying,—
“I am sorry that I have not the ability to make
myself better understood. It can only be the fault
of my dullness; for I again affirm that the danger is
as apparent to my eyes as the sun at noon day.”
“Then we must continue blind, sir,” returned
Mrs Wyllys, with a cold salute. “I thank you for
your good and kind intentions, but you cannot blame
us for not consenting to follow advice which is buried
in so much obscurity. Although in our own
grounds, we shall be pardoned the rudeness of leaving
you. The hour appointed for our departure has
now arrived.”
Wilder returned the grave bow of Mrs Wyllys
with one quite as formal as her own; though he
bent with greater grace, and with more cordiality,
to the deep but hurried curtesy of Gertrude Grayson.
He remained in the precise spot, however, in
which they left him, until he saw them enter the
villa; and he even fancied he could catch the anxious
expression of another timid glance which the latter
threw in his direction, as her light form appeared to
float from before his sight. Placing one hand on the
wall, the young sailor then leaped into the highway.
As his feet struck the ground, the slight shock seemed
to awake him from his abstraction, and he became
conscious that he stood within six feet of the old
mariner, who had now twice stepped so rudely between
him and the object he had so much at heart.
The latter did not allow him time to give utterance
to his disappointment; for he was the first himself
to speak.
“Come, brother,” he said, in friendly, confidential
tones, and shaking his head, like one who wished to
show to his companion that he was aware of the
deception he had attempted to practise; “come,
brother, you have stood far enough on this tack, and
it is time to try another. Ay, I've been young myself
in my time, and I know what a hard matter it
to be found in sailing in his company: But old age
brings us to our reckonings; and, when the life is
getting on short allowance with a poor fellow, he
begins to think of being sparing of his tricks, just
as water is saved in a ship, when the calms set in,
after it has been spilt about decks like rain, for weeks
and months on end. Thought comes with gray hairs,
and no one is the worse for providing a little of it
among his other small stores.”
“I had hoped, when I gave you the bottom of the
hill, and took the top myself,” returned Wilder,
without even deigning to look at his disagreeable
companion, “that we had parted company for ever.
As you seem, however, to prefer the high ground, I
leave you to enjoy it at your leisure; I shall descend
into the town.”
The old man shuffled after him, with a gait that
rendered it difficult for Wilder, who was by this time
in a fast walk, to outstrip him, without resorting to
the undignified expedient of an actual flight. Vexed
alike with himself and his tormentor, he was tempted
to offer some violence to the latter; and then,
recalled to his reccollection by the dangerous impulse,
he moderated his pace, and continued his
route, with a calm determination to be superior to
any emotions that such a pitiful object could excite.
“You were going under such a press of sail,
young Master,” said the stubborn old mariner, who
still kept a pace or two in his rear, “that I had to set
every thing to hold way with you; but you now seem
to be getting reasonable, and we may as well lighten
the passage by a little profitable talk. You had nearly
made the oldish lady believe the good ship `Royal
Caroline' was the flying Dutchman!”
“And why did you see fit to undeceive her?”
bluntly demanded Wilder.
“Would you have a man, who has followed blue
wild a manner? The character of a ship is as dear
to an old sea-dog, as the character of his wife or his
sweetheart.”
“Hark ye, friend; you live, I suppose, like other
people, by eating and drinking?”
“A little of the first, and a good deal of the last,”
returned the other, with a chuckle.
“And you get both, like most seaman, by hard
work, great risk, and the severest exposure?”
“Hum! `Making our money like horses, and
spending it like asses!'—that is said to be the way
with us all.”
“Now, then, have you an opportunity of making
some with less labour; you may spend it to suit your
own fancy. Will you engage in my service for a few
hours, with this for your bounty, and as much more
for wages, provided you deal honestly?”
The old man stretched out a hand, and took the
guinea which Wilder had showed over his shoulder,
without appearing to deem it at all necessary to face
his recruit.
“It's no sham!” said the latter, stopping to ring
the metal on a stone.
“'Tis gold, as pure as ever came from the Mint.”
The other very coolly pocketed the coin; and
then, with a certain hardened and decided way, as
if he were now ready for any thing, he demanded,—
“What hen-roost am I to rob for this?”
“You are to do no such pitiful act; you have only
to perform a little of that which, I fancy, you are no
stranger to: Can you keep a false log?”
“Ay; and swear to it, on occasion. I understand
you. You are tired of twisting the truth like a new
laid rope, and you wish to turn the job over to me.”
“Something so. You must unsay all you have
said concerning yonder ship; and, as you have had
cunning enough to get on the weather-side of Mrs
making matters a little worse than I have represented
them to be. Tell me, that I may judge of your
qualifications, did you, in truth, ever sail with the
worthy Rear-Admiral?”
“As I am an honest and religious Christian, I
never heard of the honest old man before yesterday.
Oh! you may trust me in these matters! I am not
likely to spoil a history for want of facts.”
“I think you will do. Now listen to my plan.”—
“Stop, worthy messmate,” interrupted the other:
“`Stones can hear,' they say on shore: we sailors
know that the pumps have ears on board a ship:
have you ever seen such a place as the `Foul Anchor'
tavern, in this town?”
“I have been there.”
“I hope you like it well enough to go again. Here
we will part. You shall haul on the wind, being the
lightest sailer, and make a stretch or two among
these houses, until you are well to windward of yonder
church. You will then have plain sailing down
upon hearty Joe Joram's, where is to be found as
snug an anchorage, for an honest trader, as at any
inn in the Colonies. I will keep away down this
hill, and, considering the difference in our rate of
sailing, we shall not be long after one another in
port.”
“And what is to be gained by so much manœuvering?
Can you listen to nothing which is not steeped
in rum?”
“You offend me by the word. You shall see what
it is to send a sober messenger on your errands, when
the time comes. But, suppose we are seen speaking
to each other on the highway—why, as you are in
such low repute just now, I shall lose my character
with the ladies altogether.”
“There may be reason in that. Hasten, then, to
there is not a minute to lose.”
“No fear of their breaking ground so suddenly,”
returned the old man, holding the palm of his hand
above his head to catch the wind. “There is not
yet air enough to cool the burning cheeks of that
young beauty; and, depend on it, the signal will not
be given to them until the sea breeze is fairly come
in.”
Wilder waved his hand, and stepped lightly along
the road the other had indicated to him, ruminating
on the figure which the fresh and youthful charms
of Gertrude had extorted from one even as old and
as coarse as his new ally. His companion followed
his person for a moment, with an amused look, and
an ironical cast of the eye; and then he also quickened
his pace, in order to reach the place of rendezvous
in sufficient season.
| CHAPTER IX. The Red Rover | |