University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

Henry VIII.

The assembling of the passengers of the large packet-ship
is necessarily an affair of coldness and distrust, especially
with those who know the world, and more particularly

still when the passage is from Europe to America.
The greater sophistication of the old than of the new hemisphere,
with its consequent shifts and vices, the knowledge
that the tide of emigration sets westward, and that few
abandon the home of their youth unless impelled by misfortune
at least, with other obvious causes, unite to produce
this distinction. Then come the fastidiousness of habits, the
sentiments of social castes, the refinements of breeding, and
the reserves of dignity of character, to be put in close collision
with bustling egotism, ignorance of usages, an absence
of training, and downright vulgarity of thought and
practices. Although necessity soon brings these chaotic
elements into something like order, the first week commonly
passes in reconnoitring, cool civilities, and cautious concessions,
to yield at length to the never-dying charities; unless,
indeed, the latter may happen to be kept in abeyance
by a downright quarrel, about midnight carousals, a squeaking
fiddle, or some incorrigible snorer.

Happily, the party collected in the Montauk had the good
fortune to abridge the usual probation in courtesies, by the
stirring events of the night on which they sailed. Two
hours had scarcely elapsed since the last passenger crossed
the gangway, and yet the respective circles of the quarter-deck
and steerage felt more sympathy with each other than
the boasted human charities ordinarily quicken in days of
common-place intercourse. They had already found out
each other's names, thanks to the assiduity of Captain
Truck, who had stolen time, in the midst of all his activity,
to make half-a-dozen more introductions, and the Americans
of the less trained class were already using them as
freely as if they were old acquaintances. We say Americans,
for the cabins of these ships usually contain a congress
of nations, though the people of England, and of her
ci-devant colonies, of course predominate in those of the
London lines. On the present occasion, the last two were
nearly balanced in numbers, so far as national character
could be made out; opinion (which, as might be expected,
had been busy the while,) being suspended in reference to
Mr. Blunt, and one or two others whom the captain called
“foreigners,” to distinguish them from the Anglo-Saxon
stock.

This equal distribution of forces might, under other circumstances,
have led to a division in feeling; for the conflicts
between American and British opinions, coupled with
a difference in habits, are a prolific source of discontent in
the cabins of packets. The American is apt to fancy himself
at home, under the flag of his country; while his
Transatlantic kinsman is strongly addicted to fancying that
when he has fairly paid his money, he has a right to embark
all his prejudices with his other luggage.

The affair of the attorney and the newly-married couple,
however, was kept quite distinct from all feelings of nationality;
the English apparently entertaining quite as
lively a wish that the latter might escape from the fangs
of the law, as any other portion of the passengers. The
parties themselves were British, and although the authority
evaded was of the same origin, right or wrong, all on board
had taken up the impression that it was improperly exercised.
Sir George Templemore, the Englishman of highest
rank, was decidedly of this way of thinking,—an opinion
he was rather warm in expressing,—and the example of a
baronet had its weight, not only with most of his own
countrymen, but with not a few of the Americans also.
The Effingham party, together with Mr. Sharp and Mr.
Blunt, were, indeed, all who seemed to be entirely indifferent
to Sir George's sentiments; and, as men are intuitively
quick in discovering who do and who do not defer
to their suggestions, their accidental independence might
have been favoured by this fact, for the discourse of this
gentleman was addressed in the main to those who lent the
most willing ears. Mr. Dodge, in particular, was his constant
and respectful listener, and profound admirer:—But
then he was his room-mate, and a democrat of a water so
pure, that he was disposed to maintain no man had a right
to any one of his senses, unless by popular sufferance.

In the mean while, the night advanced, and the soft light
of the moon was playing on the waters, adding a semi-mysterious
obscurity to the excitement of the scene. The
two-oared boat had evidently been overtaken by that carrying
six oars, and, after a short conference, the first had
returned reluctantly towards the land, while the latter,
profiting by its position, had set two lug-sails, and was

standing out into the offing, on a course that would compel
the Montauk to come under its lee, when the shoals, as
would soon be the case, should force the ship to tack.

“England is most inconveniently placed,” Captain Truck
dryly remarked as he witnessed this manœuvre. “Were
this island only out of the way, now, we might stand on as
we head, and leave those man-of-war's men to amuse themselves
all night with backing and filling in the roads of
Portsmouth.”

“I hope there is no danger of that little boat's overtaking
this large ship!” exclaimed Sir George, with a vivacity
that did great credit to his philanthropy, according to the
opinion of Mr. Dodge at least; the latter having imbibed a
singular bias in favour of persons of condition, from having
travelled in an eilwagen with a German baron, from whom he
had taken a model of the pipe he carried but never smoked,
and from having been thrown for two days and nights into
the society of a “Polish countess,” as he uniformly termed
her, in the gondole of a diligence, between Lyons and Marseilles.
In addition, Mr. Dodge, as has just been hinted,
was an ultra-freeman at home—a circumstance that seems
always to react, when the subject of the feeling gets into
foreign countries.

“A feather running before a lady's sigh would outsail
either of us in this air, which breathes on us in some such
fashion as a whale snores, Sir George, by sudden puffs. I
would give the price of a steerage passage, if Great Britain
lay off the Cape of Good Hope for a week or ten days.”

“Or Cape Hatteras!” rejoined the mate.

“Not I; I wish the old island no harm, nor a worse climate
than it has got already; though it lies as much in
our way just at this moment, as the moon in an eclipse of
the sun. I bear the old creature a great-grandson's love—
or a step or two farther off, if you will,—and come and go
too often to forget the relationship. But, much as I love
her, the affection is not strong enough to go ashore on her
shoals, and so we will go about, Mr. Leach; at the same
time, I wish from my heart that two-lugged rascal would
go about his business.”

The ship tacked slowly but gracefully, for she was in
what her master termed “racing trim;” and as her bows

fell off to the eastward, it became pretty evident to all who
understood the subject, that the two little lug-sails that
were “eating into the wind,” as the sailors express it,
would weather upon her track ere she could stretch over to
the other shoal. Even the landsmen had some feverish
suspicions of the truth, and the steerage passengers were
already holding a secret conference on the possibility of
hiding the pursued in some of the recesses of the ship.
“Such things were often done,” one whispered to another,
“and it was as easy to perform it now as at any other time.”

But Captain Truck viewed the matter differently: his
vocation called him three times a year into the roads at
Portsmouth, and he felt little disposition to embarrass his
future intercourse with the place by setting its authorities
at a too open defiance. He deliberated a good deal on the
propriety of throwing his ship up into the wind, as she
slowly advanced towards the boat, and of inviting those in
the latter to board him. Opposed to this was the pride of
profession, and Jack Truck was not a man to overlook or
to forget the “yarns” that were spun among his fellows at
the New England Coffee-house, or among those farming
hamlets on the banks of the Connecticut, whence all the
packet-men are derived, and whither they repair for a shelter
when their careers are run, as regularly as the fruit decays
where it falleth, or the grass that has not been harvested
or cropped withers on its native stalk.

“There is no question, Sir George, that this fellow is a
man-of-war's man,” said the master to the baronet, who
stuck close to his side. “Take a peep at the creeping
rogue through this night-glass, and you will see his crew
seated at their thwarts with their arms folded, like men who
eat the king's beef. None but your regular public servant
ever gets that impudent air of idleness about him, either in
England or America. In this respect, human nature is the
same in both hemispheres, a man never falling in with luck,
but he fancies it is no more than his deserts.”

“There seems to be a great many of them! Can it be
their intention to carry the vessel by boarding?”

“If it is, they must take the will for the deed,” returned
Mr. Truck a little coldly. “I very much question if the
Montauk, with three cabin officers, as many stewards, two

cooks, and eighteen foremast-men, would exactly like the
notion of being `carried,' as you style it, Sir George, by a
six-oared cutter's crew. We are not as heavy as the planet
Jupiter, but have somewhat too much gravity to be `carried'
as lightly as all that, too.”

“You intend, then, to resist?” asked Sir George, whose
generous zeal in behalf of the pursued apparently led him
to take a stronger interest in their escape than any other
person on board.

Captain Truck, who had never an objection to sport,
pondered with himself a little, smiled, and then loudly expressed
a wish that he had a member of congress or a
member of parliament on board.

“Your desire is a little extraordinary for the circumstances,”
observed Mr. Sharp; will you have the goodness
to explain why?”

“This matter touches on international law, gentlemen,”
continued the master, rubbing his hands; for, in addition
to having caught the art of introduction, the honest mariner
had taken it into his head he had become an adept in the
principles of Vattel, of whom he possessed a well-thumbed
copy, and for whose dogmas he entertained the deference
that they who begin to learn late usually feel for the particular
master into whose hands they have accidentally
fallen. “Under what circumstances, or in what category,
can a public armed ship compel a neutral to submit to
being boarded—not `carried,' Sir George, you will please
to remark; for d—me, if any man `carries' the Montauk
that is not strong enough to `carry' her crew and
cargo along with her!—but in what category, now, is a
packet like this I have the honour to command obliged, in
comity, to heave-to and to submit to an examination at all?
The ship is a-weigh, and has handsomely tacked under her
canvas; and, gentlemen, I should be pleased to have your
sentiments on the occasion. Just have the condescension
to point out the category.”

Mr. Dodge came from a part of the country in which
men were accustomed to think, act, almost to eat and drink
and sleep, in common; or, in other words, from one of
those regions in America, in which there was so much
community, that few had the moral courage, even when

they possessed the knowledge, and all the other necessary
means, to cause their individuality to be respected. When
the usual process of conventions, sub-conventions, caucusses,
and public meetings did not supply the means of
“concentrated action,” he and his neighbours had long been
in the habit of having recourse to societies, by way of obtaining
“energetic means,” as it was termed; and from
his tenth year up to his twenty-fifth, this gentleman had
been either a president, vice-president, manager, or committee-man,
of some philosophical, political, or religious expedient
to fortify human wisdom, make men better, and resist
error and despotism. His experience had rendered
him expert in what may well enough be termed the language
of association. No man of his years, in the twenty-six
states, could more readily apply the terms of “taking up”
—“excitement”—“unqualified hostility”—“public opinion”—“spreading
before the public,” or any other of
those generic phrases that imply the privileges of all, and
the rights of none. Unfortunately, the pronunciation of
this person was not as pure as his motives, and he misunderstood
the captain when he spoke of comity, as meaning
a “committee;” and although it was not quite obvious
what the worthy mariner could intend by “obliged in committee
(comity) to heave-to,” yet, as he had known these
bodies to do so many “energetic things,” he did not see
why they might not perform this evolution as well as another.

“It really does appear, Captain Truck,” he remarked
accordingly, “that our situation approaches a crisis, and
the suggestion of a comity (committee) strikes me as being
peculiarly proper and suitable to the circumstances, and in
strict conformity with republican usages. In order to save
time, and that the gentlemen who shall be appointed to
serve may have opportunity to report, therefore, I will at
once nominate Sir George Templemore as chairman, leaving
it for any other gentleman present to suggest the name
of any candidate he may deem proper. I will only add,
that in my poor judgment this comity (committee) ought to
consist of at least three, and that it have power to send for
persons and papers.”

“I would propose five, Captain Truck, by way of amendment,”

added another passenger of the same kidney as the
last speaker, gentlemen of their school making it a point to
differ a little from every proposition by way of showing
their independence.

It was fortunate for both the mover of the original motion,
and for the proposer of the amendment, that the master
was acquainted with the character of Mr. Dodge, or a
proposition that his ship was to be worked by a committee,
(or indeed by comity,) would have been very likely to meet
with but an indifferent reception; but, catching a glimpse
of the laughing eyes of Eve, as well as of the amused faces
of Mr. Sharp and Mr. Blunt, by the light of the moon, he
very gravely signified his entire approbation of the chairman
named, and his perfect readiness to listen to the report
of the aforesaid committee as soon as it might be prepared
to make it.

“And if your committee, or comity, gentlemen,” he
added, “can tell me what Vattel would say about the obligation
to heave-to in a time of profound peace, and when
the ship, or boat, in chase, can have no belligerent rights,
I shall be grateful to my dying day; for I have looked him
through as closely as old women usually examine almanacks
to tell which way the wind is about to blow, and I
fear he has overlooked the subject altogether.”

Mr. Dodge, and three or four more of the same community-propensity
as himself, soon settled the names of the
rest of the committee, when the nominees retired to another
part of the deck to consult together; Sir George Templemore,
to the surprise of all the Effingham party, consenting
to serve with a willingness that rather disregarded forms.

“It might be convenient to refer other matters to this
committee, captain,” said Mr. Sharp, who had tact enough
to see that nothing but her habitual retenue of deportment
kept Eve, whose bright eyes were dancing with humour,
from downright laughter: “these are the important points
of reefing and furling, the courses to be steered, the sail to
be carried, the times and seasons of calling all hands together,
with sundry other customary duties, that no doubt
would be well treated on in this forthcoming report.”

“No doubt, sir; I perceive you have been at sea before,
and I am sorry you were overlooked in naming the members

of the comity: take my word for it, all that you have
mentioned can be done on board the Montauk by a comity,
as well as settling the question of heaving-to, or not, for
yonder boat.—By the way, Mr. Leach, the fellows have
tacked, and are standing in this direction, thinking to cross
our bows and speak us.—Mr. Attorney, the tide is setting
us off the land, and you may make it morning before you
get into your nests, if you hold on much longer. I fear
Mrs. Seal and Mrs. Grab will be unhappy women.”

The bloodhounds of the law heard this warning with
indifference, for they expected succour of some sort, though
they hardly knew of what sort, from the man-of-war's boat,
which, it was now plain enough, must weather on the ship.
After putting their heads together, Mr. Seal offered his companion
a pinch of snuff, helping himself afterwards, like a
man indifferent to the result, and one patient in time of
duty. The sun-burnt face of the captain, whose standing
colour was that which cooks get when the fire burns the
brightest, but whose hues no fire or cold ever varied, was
turned fully on the two, and it is probable they would have
received some decided manifestation of his will, had not
Sir George Templemore, with the four other committeemen,
approached to give in the result of their conference.

“We are of opinion, Captain Truck,” said the baronet,
“that as the ship is under way, and your voyage may be
fairly said to have commenced, it is quite inexpedient and
altogether unnecessary for you to anchor again; but that
it is your duty—”

“I have no occasion for advice as to my duty, gentlemen.
If you can let me know what Vattel says, or ought to have
said, on the subject, or touching the category of the right
of search, except as a belligerent right, I will thank you;
if not, we must e'en guess at it. I have not sailed a ship
in this trade these ten years to need any jogging of the
memory about port-jurisdiction either, for these are matters
in which one gets to be expert by dint of use, as my old
master used to say when he called us from table with half
a dinner. Now, there was the case of the blacks in
Charleston, in which our government showed clearly it had
not studied Vattel, or it never would have given the answer
it did. Perhaps you never heard that case, Sir George, and

as it touches a delicate principle, I will just run over the
category lightly; for it has its points, as well as a coast.”

“Does not this matter press,—may not the boat—”

“The boat will do nothing, gentlemen, without the permission
of Jack Truck. You must know, the Carolinians
have a law that all niggers brought into their state by ships,
must be caged until the vessel sails again. This is to prevent
emancipation, as they call it, or abolition, I know not
which. An Englishman comes in from the islands with a
crew of blacks, and, according to law, the authorities of
Charleston house them all before night. John Bull complains
to his minister, and his minister sends a note to our
secretary, and our secretary writes to the Governor of
Carolina, calling on him to respect the treaty, and so on.
Gentlemen, I need not tell you what a treaty is—it is a
thing in itself to be obeyed; but it is all important to know
what it commands. Well, what was this said treaty? That
John should come in and out of the ports, on the footing of
the most favoured nation; on the statu quo ante bellum
principle, as Vattel has it. Now, the Carolinians treated
John just as they treated Jonathan, and there was no more
to be said. All parties were bound to enter the port, subject
to the municipals, as is set forth in Vattel. That was
a case soon settled, you perceive, though depending on a
nicety.”

Sir George had listened with extreme impatience, but,
fearful of offending, he listened to the end; then, seizing
the first pause in the captain's discourse, he resumed his
remonstrances with an interest that did infinite credit to his
humanity, at the same time that he overlooked none of the
obligations of politeness.

“An exceedingly clear case, I protest,” he answered,
“and capitally put—I question if Lord Stowell could do it
better—and exceedingly apt, that about the ante bellum;
but I confess my feelings have not been so much roused for
a long time as they have been on account of these poor people.
There is something inexpressibly painful in being disappointed
as one is setting out in the morning of life, as it
were, in this cruel manner; and rather than see this state
of things protracted, I would prefer paying a trifle out of
my own pocket. If this wretched attorney will consent,

now, to take a hundred pounds and quit us, and carry back
with him that annoying cutter with the lug-sails, I will give
him the money most cheerfully,—most cheerfully, I protest.”

There is something so essentially respectable in practical
generosity, that, though Eve and all the curious auditors of
what was passing felt an inclination to laugh at the whole
procedure up to this declaration, eye met eye in commendation
of the liberality of the baronet. He had shown he
had a heart, in the opinion of most of those who heard him,
though his previous conversation had led several of the observers
to distrust his having the usual quantum of head.

“Give yourself no trouble about the attorney, Sir
George,” returned the captain, shaking the other cordially
by the hand: “he shall not touch a pound of your money,
nor do I think he is likely to touch Robert Davis. We have
caught the tide on our lee bow, and the current is wheeling
us up to windward, like an opposition coach flying over
Blackheath. In a few minutes we shall be in blue water;
and then I'll give the rascal a touch of Vattel that will
throw him all aback, if it don't throw him overboard.”

“But the cutter?”

“Why, if we drive the attorney and Grab out of the
ship, there will be no process in the hands of the others,
by which they can carry off the man, even admitting the
jurisdiction. I know the scoundrels, and not a shilling
shall either of the knaves take from this vessel with my
consent. Harkee, Sir George, a word in your ear: two
of as d—d cockroaches as ever rummaged a ship's bread-room;
I'll see that they soon heave about, or I'll heave
them both into their boat, with my own fair hands.”

The captain was about to turn away to examine the position
of the cutter, when Mr. Dodge asked permission to
make a short report in behalf of the minority of the comity
(committee), the amount of which was, that they agreed in
all things with the majority, except on the point that, as it
might become expedient for the ship to anchor again in
some of the ports lower down the Channel, it would be wise
to keep that material circumstance in view, in making up a
final decision in the affair. This report, on the part of the
minority, which, Mr. Dodge explained to the baronet, partook

rather of the character of a caution than of a protest,
had quite as little influence on Captain Truck as the opinion
of the majority, for he was just one of those persons who
seldom took advice that did not conform with his own previous
decision; but he coolly continued to examine the
cutter, which by this time was standing on the same course
as the ship, a short distance to windward of her, and edging
a little off the wind, so as to bring the two nearer to each
other, every yard they advanced.

The wind had freshened to a little breeze, and the captain
nodded his head with satisfaction when he heard,
even where he stood on the quarter-deck, the slapping of
the sluggish swell, as the huge bows of the ship parted the
water. At this moment those in the cutter saw the bubbles
glide swiftly past them, while to those in the Montauk the
motion was still slow and heavy; and yet, of the two, the
actual velocity was rather in favour of the latter, both having
about what is technically termed “four-knot way” on
them. The officer of the boat was quick to detect the
change that was acting against him, and by easing the
sheets of his lug-sails, and keeping the cutter as much off
the wind as he could, he was soon within a hundred feet of
the ship, running along on her weather-beam. The bright
soft moonlight permitted the face of a young man in a man-of-war
cap, who wore the undress uniform of a sea lieutenant,
to be distinctly seen, as he rose in the stern-sheets,
which contained also two other persons.

“I will thank you to heave-to the Montauk,” said the
lieutenant civilly, while he raised his cap, apparently in
compliment to the passengers who crowded the rail to see
and hear what passed. “I am sent on the duty of the king,
sir.”

“I know your errand, sir,” returned Captain Truck,
whose resolution to refuse to comply was a good deal shaken
by the gentleman-like manner in which the request was
made; “and I wish you to bear witness, that if I do consent
to your request, it is voluntarily; for, on the principles
laid down by Vattel and the other writers on international
law, the right of search is a belligerent right, and England
being at peace, no ship belonging to one nation can have a
right to stop a vessel belonging to another.”

“I cannot enter into these niceties, sir,” returned the
lieutenant, sharply: “I have my orders, and you will excuse
me if I say, I intend to execute them.”

“Execute them, with all my heart, sir: if you are ordered
to heave-to my ship, all you have to do is to get on
board if you can, and let us see the style in which you
handle yards. As to the people now stationed at the braces,
the trumpet that will make them stir is not to be spoken
through at the Admiralty. The fellow has spirit in him,
and I like his principles as an officer, but I cannot admit
his conclusions as a jurist. If he flatters himself with
being able to frighten us into a new category, now, that is
likely to impair national rights, the lad has just got himself
into a problem that will need all his logic, and a good deal
of his spirit, to get out of again.”

“You will scarcely think of resisting a king's officer in
British waters!” said the young man with that haughtiness
that the meekest tempers soon learn to acquire under a
pennant.

“Resisting, my dear sir! I resist nothing. The misconception
is in supposing that you sail this ship instead of
John Truck. That is my name, sir; John Truck. Do
your errand in welcome, but do not ask me to help you.
Come aboard, with all my heart; nothing would give me
more pleasure than to take wine with you; but I see no
necessity of stopping a packet, that is busy on a long road,
without an object, as we say on the other side of the big
waters.”

There was a pause, and then the lieutenant, with the sort
of hesitation that a gentleman is apt to feel when he makes
a proposal that he knows ought not to be accepted, called
out that those in the boat with him would pay for the detention
of the ship. A more unfortunate proposition could
not be made to Captain Truck, who would have hove-to his
ship in a moment had the lieutenant proposed to discuss
Vattel with him on the quarter-deck, and who was only holding
out as a sort of salvo to his rights, with that disposition to
resist aggression that the experience of the last forty years
has so deeply implanted in the bosom of every American
sailor, in cases connected with English naval officers, and
who had just made up his mind to let Robert Davis take

his chance, and to crack a bottle with the handsome young
man who was still standing up in the boat. But Mr. Truck
had been too often to London not to understand exactly the
manner in which Englishmen appreciate American character;
and, among other things, he knew it was the general
opinion in the island that money could do any thing with
Jonathan, or, as Christophe is said once to have sententiously
expressed the same sentiment, “if there were a bag
of coffee in h—, a Yankee could be found to go and bring
it out.”

The master of the Montauk had a proper relish for his
lawful gains as well as another, but he was vain-glorious
on the subject of his countrymen, principally because he
found that the packets outsailed all other merchant-ships,
and fiercely proud of any quality that others were disposed
to deny them.

At hearing this proposal, or intimation, therefore, instead
of accepting it, Captain Truck raised his hat with formal
civility, and coolly wished the other “good night.” This
was bringing the affair to a crisis at once; for the helm of
the cutter was borne up, and an attempt was made to run
the boat alongside of the ship. But the breeze had been
steadily increasing, the air had grown heavier as the night
advanced, and the dampness of evening was thickening the
canvas of the coarser sails in a way sensibly to increase
the speed of the ship. When the conversation commenced,
the boat was abreast of the fore-rigging; and by the time
it ended, it was barely up with the mizzen. The lieutenant
was quick to see the disadvantage he laboured under, and
he called out “Heave!” as he found the cutter was falling
close under the counter of the ship, and would be in her
wake in another minute. The bowman of the boat cast a
light grapnel with so much precision that it hooked in the
mizzen rigging, and the line instantly tightened so as to tow
the cutter. A seaman was passing along the outer edge of
the hurricane-house at the moment, coming from the wheel,
and with the decision of an old salt, he quietly passed his
knife across the stretched cordage, and it snapped like packthread.
The grapnel fell into the sea, and the boat was
tossing in the wake of the ship, all as it might be while
one could draw a breath. To furl the sails and ship the

oars consumed but an instant, and then the cutter was
ploughing the water under the vigorous strokes of her
crew.

“Spirited! spirited and nimble!” observed Captain
Truck, who stood coolly leaning against a shroud, in a
position where he could command a view of all that was
passing, improving the opportunity to shake the ashes from
his cigar while he spoke; “a fine young fellow, and one
who will make an admiral, or something better, I dare say,
if he live;—perhaps a cherub, in time. Now, if he pull
much longer in the back-water of our wake, I shall have to
give him up, Leach, as a little marin-ish: ah! there he
sheers out of it, like a sensible youth as he is! Well,
there is something pleasant in the conceit of a six-oared
boat's carrying a London liner by boarding, even admitting
the lad could have got alongside.”

So, it would seem, thought Mr. Leach and the crew of
the Montauk; for they were clearing the decks with as
much philosophy as men ever discover when employed in
an unthankful office. This sang-froid of seamen is always
matter of surprise to landsmen; but adventurers who have
been rocked in the tempest for years, whose utmost security
is a great hazard, and whose safety constantly depends on
the command of the faculties, come in time to experience
an apathy on the subject of all the minor terrors and excitements
of life, that none can acquire unless by habit and
similar risks. There was a low laugh among the people,
and now and then a curious glance of the eye over the
quarter to ascertain the position of the struggling boat; but
there the effect of the little incident ceased, so far as the
seamen were concerned.

Not so with the passengers. The Americans exulted at
the failure of the man-of-war's man, and the English
doubted. To them, deference to the crown was habitual,
and they were displeased at seeing a stranger play a king's
boat such a trick, in what they justly enough thought to be
British waters. Although the law may not give a man any
more right than another to the road before his own door,
he comes in time to fancy it, in a certain degree, his particular
road. Strictly speaking, the Montauk was perhaps
still under the dominion of the English laws, though she

had been a league from the land when laying at her anchor,
and by this time the tide and her own velocity had swept her
broad off into the offing quite as far again; indeed she had
now got to such a distance from the land, that Captain
Truck thought it his “duty” to bring matters to a conclusion
with the attorney.

“Well, Mr. Seal,” he said, “I am grateful for the pleasure
of your company thus far; but you will excuse me if
I decline taking you and Mr. Grab quite to America. Half
an hour hence you will hardly be able to find the island;
for as soon as we have got to a proper distance from the
cutter, I shall tack to the south-west, and you ought, moreover,
to remember the anxiety of the ladies at home.”

“This may turn out a serious matter, Captain Truck, on
your return passage! The laws of England are not to be
trifled with. Will you oblige me by ordering the steward
to hand me a glass of water? Waiting for justice is dry
duty, I find.”

“Extremely sorry I cannot comply, gentlemen. Vattel
has nothing on the subject of watering belligerents, or neutrals,
and the laws of Congress compel me to carry so many
gallons to the man. If you will take it in the way of a
nightcap, however, and drink success to our run to America,
and your own to the shore, it shall be in champagne,
if you happen to like that agreeable fluid.”

The attorney was about to express his readiness to compromise
on these terms, when a glass of the beverage for
which he had first asked was put into his hand by the wife
of Robert Davis. He took the water, drank it, and turned
from the woman with the obduracy of one who never suffered
feeling to divert him from the pursuit of gain. The
wine was brought, and the captain filled the glasses with a
seaman's heartiness.

“I drink to your safe return to Mrs. Seal, and the little
gods and goddesses of justice,—Pan or Mercury, which is
it? And as for you, Grab, look out for sharks as you pull
in. If they hear of your being afloat, the souls of persecuted
sailors will set them on you, as the devil chases male
coquettes. Well, gentlemen, you are balked this time; but
what matters it? It is but another man got safe out of a
country that has too many in it; and I trust we shall meet

good friends again this day four months. Even man and
wife must part, when the hour arrives.”

“That will depend on how my client views your conduct
on this occasion, Captain Truck; for he is not a man that
it is always safe to thwart.”

“That for your client, Mr. Seal!” returned the captain,
snapping his fingers. “I am not to be frightened with an
attorney's growl, or a bailiff's nod. You come off with a
writ or a warrant, I care not which; I offer no resistance;
you hunt for your man, like a terrier looking for a rat, and
can't find him; I see the fine fellow, at this moment, on
deck,—but I feel no obligation to tell you who or where he
is; my ship is cleared and I sail, and you have no power
to stop me; we are outside of all the head-lands, good two
leagues and a half off, and some writers say that a gun-shot
is the extent of your jurisdiction, once out of which,
your authority is not worth half as much as that of my
chief cook, who has power to make his mate clean the coppers.
Well, sir, you stay here ten minutes longer and we
shall be fully three leagues from your nearest land, and
then you are in America, according to law, and a quick
passage you will have made of it. Now, that is what I call
a category.”

As the captain made this last remark, his quick eye saw
that the wind had hauled so far round to the westward, as
to supersede the necessity of tacking, and that they were
actually going eight knots in a direct line from Portsmouth.
Casting an eye behind him, he perceived that the cutter had
given up the chase, and was returning towards the distant
roads. Under circumstances so discouraging, the attorney,
who began to be alarmed for his boat, which was flying
along on the water, towed by the ship, prepared to take his
leave; for he was fully aware that he had no power to compel
the other to heave-to his ship, to enable him to get out
of her. Luckily the water was still tolerably smooth, and
with fear and trembling, Mr. Seal succeeded in blundering
into the boat; not, however, until the watermen had warned
him of their intention to hold on no longer. Mr. Grab followed,
with a good deal of difficulty, and just as a hand
was about to let go the painter, the captain appeared at the

gangway with the man they were in quest of, and said in
his most winning manner—

“Mr. Grab, Mr. Davis; Mr. Davis, Mr. Grab; I seldom
introduce steerage passengers, but to oblige two old
friends I break the rule. That's what I call a category.
My compliments to Mrs. Grab. Let go the painter.”

The words were no sooner uttered than the boat was
tossing and whirling in the caldron left by the passing
ship.