University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.
The Recognition.

Forrestal stood an instant transfixed with surprise
at this sudden movement of his young friend, and then
believing that the memory and recital of his sad history
had turned his brain, he gave aloud the startling
cry, `a man overboard!' and sprang into the water to
rescue him. The cry was taken up simultaneously by
others on deck, and the quarter-master, who was standing
near the wheel, ran aft and cut away the life-buoy,
while the officer of the deck, seeing Forrestal also
plunge in, leaped into the third cutter which was at the
quarter davits, the boats being all hoisted up, and followed
by a part of its crew was lowered into the
water.

Forrestal, however, reached Harry as he was swimming,
regardless of the cries and of his presence, towards
the lugger, with the outlay of every sinew.

`Come, my dear boy,' said his friend, with a kindly
smile as he grasped him firmly by the arm, `you must
not escape from the ship this way!'

`But it—don't detain me, good Forrestal! I
must—'

`But, Harry, you must return to the sloop! What
can have driven you overboard in this mad fashion?
Here is the cutter right upon us! You must get in

with me, and then, once on board and in your warm
hammock, you may talk. Do n't resist me, Harry.'

But the young midshipman seeing the boat almost
upon them, loosened Forrestal's hold and dove deep
out of sight.

`He is swimming shoreward under the surface,'
cried the lieutenant, standing up in the boat and watching
his course beneath the water. `Forrestal take hold
of the gunwale, and, men, give a couple of short
strokes and we shall reach him as he rises.'

The cutter glided on about twenty feet when the
head of the youth, as he ascended to the top of the
water, struck with violence under her starboard bow.
Forrestal, who was holding by one hand to one of the
heart-shaped `fenders' of the boat and swimming with
the other, immediately caught him beneath the arms
and raised him out of the water so that those in the boat
could grasp him, when he was immediately lifted in,
but insensible, from the blow he had received. Forrestal
getting in after him, took him in his arms, and
the cutter was immediately pulled back under the
sloop's quarter, the davits hooked, and she was hoisted
to her place with all in her.

Harry was conveyed by Forrestal to his own hammock,
and there, by the aid of the surgeon, every means
were used to resuscitate him; but it was three hours
before he showed any signs of returning sensibility.

`That was a severe blow, Mr. Forrestal,' said the
surgeon, who was holding his pulse, and watching returning
life.'

`Yes, doctor. If I had not caught him in my
arms as I did, he would have sunk to the bottom like
lead!'

`Can you account in any way for his throwing
himself into the water?'

`No; unless from the excess of grief at the remembrance
of his unhappy fate, and that of his lost sister;
but I will not now explain what I mean; briefly, he
was, in childhood, mysteriously separated from an
only sister, whose present fate is a source of constant
anxiety to him; and it was while he was recounting
to me some of the facts connected with her separation
from him, he suddenly made a leap into the water!'

`It is very strange. His brain, perhaps, was for the
moment a little unsettled,' said the surgeon, shaking
his head.

`I fear so,' responded Forrestal, sorrowfully. `Poor
Harry! — he opens his eyes, sir!'

`Yes, he is fast coming to. Please hand me that
lamp from the table, Mr. Forrestal.' The surgeon
placed the light before Harry's eyes, and looked closely
into them. The youth closed them slowly, and heavily
sighed.

`The expression is soft and natural,' answered the
doctor, looking at the lieutenant, who was watching
this act with intense anxiety. `I see nothing to indicate
insanity.'

`Thank God!' exclaimed the generous-hearted
officer.

`Mr. Forrestal!' murmured the lips of the youth.

`I am here, dear Harry!' answered the officer,
bending over to catch his words.

Harry opened his eyes, smiled faintly, and sought to
grasp the hand of his friend.

`You are better, Harry?'

`Yes; I feel much better! Am I not in your state-room,
Mr. Forrestal?' he asked, looking round, and
trying to recollect himself.

`Yes, Harry. I am glad to see you are reviving.
We have all been very anxious about you.'

`Thank you!' he answered, pressing his hand
warmly. `I am quite well now. You need not hold
my pulse, Doctor Fosdick. I shall soon be quite well,
Mr. Forrestal.'

`Well, Harry?'

`How long have I been here?'

`Four hours, nearly.'

Instantly the cheek of the youth became flushed.

`I wish to say a word to you. Bend down! — no,
you need not; you see I can rise and sit up. There,
you perceive how well I am, doctor. Please let me
say a word alone to Mr. Forrestal!'

He spoke with such earnestness and emotion, that
the surgeon hesitated a moment, placed his hand
upon his pulse, and then laid it upon his temple.

`Doctor, I am quite well now. If I am worse, Mr.
Forrestal shall call you,' he said, with earnestness.

The surgeon took a second keen glance into his eyes,
and then said, with a smile,

`Well, I will let you have a few words with your
friend; but I forbid you talking much. I hold you
responsible, Mr. Forrestal.'

`I will see that he does not say much, for I know
rest and quiet are most needful for him; and as he
spoke, he with a gentle hand put back the chestnut
curls from the young man's forehead, with the tender,
soothing air, which a brother would show towards a
loving and beloved sister.

Harry listened till he heard the doctor's step cross to
the farther door of the ward-room, and then with both
hands he took hold of the hand of Forrestal, which lay
in his, and said, in a deep, trembling tone,

`Mr. Forrestal, you must think I have acted very
strangely. I will explain to you.'

`Not now — to-morrow. It is near midnight. Seven
bells are now striking. You should sleep, dear Harry.
To-morrow you may tell me all.'

`I conceive that I must have sunk or fainted in the
water after I dived away from you,' he said, as if all
at once reflecting upon being where he was. `Do I
not owe you my life, sir? How was it?'

`As you came up to the surface, your head struck
under the bows of the cutter with violence, and the
shock rendered you insensible.'

`That accounts for my head — for the great pain
in it.'

`You must be quiet, my dear Harry.'

`No. Let me first thank you for my life: for I
know it must have been you who saved me, when I
was rendered insensible,' said Harry, looking up into
his face with that generous emotion, which sweet
gratitude alone can impress upon the countenance.

`Well, and this renders you more dear to me.'

`I am so happy having such a friend as you a
sir. But I must tell you what caused me to spring
overboard as I did. But first, is the lugger anchored
there?'

`I do not know. I suppose so, unless she weighed
with the tide.'

`O, see sir, see!'

`I will, Harry, but —'

`Do n't hesitate, but sit down, and I will first tell
you, for if she is not there now, all is lost! Do you
know, sir,' he continued, with the most excited manner,
his cheek flushed and his eye kindling, `do you know,
sir, that I saw that man!'

`What man?' asked Forrestal, now quite convinced
that poor Harry's brain was truly affected.
There was no doubt that his thoughts were yet a little
unsteady, from the effects of the blow he had received,
but they were faithful to the one subject he had now
upon his mind.

`The man that carried my sister and myself on board
the brig in the river, when we were children!' he answered,
with great earnestness.

`Saw him, Harry?' asked Forrestal, with an expression
upon his face, that told how sadly he was
convinced that the mind of his young friend was wandering
— wandering fitfully upon the past.

`Yes, Mr. Forrestal. It was that which made me
spring overboard; for I felt, that if I did not reach him
then, I should, perhaps, never see him again. I immediately
leaped into the water to swim to the lugger,
with the purpose of seizing him, and demanding my
sister!'

Forrestal looked a moment on the face of his young
friend, with a gaze of mingled surprise and incredulity.
There was no sign of insanity in his eyes, whatever
there might be in his words; though his manner
was deeply excited and earnest.

`Harry,' said he, seriously, and fixing a steady, observant

gaze upon him; `do you mean to say you saw
a man on board the lugger, who resembled the individual
who took your sister away?'

`I saw the very man, Mr. Forrestal,' answered Harry,
with very great positiveness.

`On the deck of the lugger?'

`Yes, sir. While I was talking with you, did you
not see a man, with bushy grey hair, reddish whiskers,
high, broad shoulders, and tall in stature, come
out of the cuddy?'

`Yes, I noticed him, and was struck with his savage
appearance!'

`That was the man, sir. The moment he appeared
in full view on the lugger's deck, I recognized him;
for his image has never been absent from my thoughts.
As soon as I recognized that it was he, without saying
a word to you, I impulsively leaped into the
water.'

`But, my dear Harry, it is eleven years since you
saw him, and then you were but six or seven years
of age. Time must have changed the man who beguiled
Isidore from her home, so that now you would
not be able to identify him.'

`This man I could recognize and identify had he
reached eighty years, sir. It is the man! O, sir,
will you believe me, and have him arrested, that I may
once more behold my sister, or know what has become
of her?'

`My dear Harry, this seems too extraordinary a
circumstance to be the truth. Yet I will believe you,
for nothing but a positive recognition of the man can

account for your extraordinary conduct in leaping from
the gangway into the water to swim to the lugger; I
thought you crazy.'

`Thanks, thanks, sir, for believing me. I am not
crazy, save with joy and hope. Haste, sir, to the deck,
and see if the lugger is still there; and if she is, let me
board her with you. He must not escape from me,
Mr. Forrestal. I must demand my sister of him.'

`He shall not escape, dear boy. Whether he be
the man or not, he shall be brought before you, and
you shall be satisfied.'

`The lugger, if she is not moved, lies in our power,
and nothing will be easier, dear Mr. Forrestal, than to
take him from her and bring him on board. Oh! let
me go on deck.'

`You are not yet sufficiently recovered, Harry. It
will endanger your health to be exposed to the night
air. In the morning, you shall be on deck. Here is
the surgeon, with his finger up.'

`Ah, Lieutenant Forrestal, you have had too long a
talk with my patient. You see his cheek is like a
peony, and I dare say his pulse is full one hundred
and ten. No, it is but ninety. This is not so bad as
I feared.'

`Please remain with him, doctor; I will soon return,'
said Forrestal; and the next instant he was on
the gun deck. He hurried to the gangway to look for
the lugger; but as the ebb tide had swung the vessel
of war round with her head in an opposite direction,
he did not think of the fact until he saw the towers
and roofs of the city in the distance, instead of the
Castle, which was now behind him. The lugger, it

will be remembered, lay in the shadow of the rock,
upon which the Moro Castle was built. He crossed
the ship's deck to the gangway, and with a quick,
searching gaze, looked for the lugger where she had
lain at sundown.

After a few moments' observation, he was satisfied
that she was no longer there. This conviction was a
deep disappointment to him, for he had come to a firm
belief that Harry was right.

`Mr. Veryl!' he said to a young reefer, who had
been walking up and down the waist smoking a finely-flavored
Havana cigar, but who had now arrested
himself in his mechanical promenade to watch the
hurried movements of Lieutenant Forrestal; `do you
know what has become of the lugger that lay at anchor
half a cable's length from us in shore at sunset?'

`She weighed at the turn of the tide, sir,' answered
the reefer, touching his cap, and removing his cigar
from his lips.

`When was that?'

`About the second bell, sir.'

`At nine o'clock; and now it is twelve! She has
been gone three hours. Did she stand out of the
harbor?'

`Yes, sir. I was leaning over the hammock-nettings
watching her movements; for at one time, as the
wind baffled, I thought she would fall aboard of us.
Yet they managed her well.'

`Did you see many men on her deck?'

`Five, sir.'

`Spaniards?'

`I could not tell in the dark, though I heard Spanish

spoken, and that too by one who had an English
tongue in his head.'

`Are you sure that it was an Englishman?' asked
Forrestal, quickly.

`Or American, sir,' responded Mr. Veryl, replacing
his cigar a moment, to keep it alive, and then removing
it.

`I know you speak the language well, Mr. Veryl;
but it requires a nice ear to detect Spanish, when
spoken by an English tongue!'

`I cannot mistake the accent, sir. The man, whoever
he was, was the skipper of the lugger; for the
orders all came from him. He did not speak loud, but
I could hear distinctly his words.'

`And the lugger stood out of the harbor?'

`Yes, sir.'

`How is the wind?'

`About south by east, and is outside five or six knot
breeze, I should think, sir, from the way the lugger
showed her paces after clearing the harbor.'

`Then you watched her?'

`For about a mile I could distinguish her; but she
rapidly went out of sight.'

`What course did she steer?'

`I should think about northeast, sir.'

`Thank you, Veryl.'

Forrestal then remained a moment in deep reflection,
while Veryl embraced the opportunity to revive his
expiring cigar, which his courtesy — for Mr. Veryl was
a very fastidiously polite reefer, of eighteen years —
would not suffer him to smoke while addressed by his
superior officer.

`Did you notice if any one left her before she weighed?'
asked Forrestal:

`No, sir, I did not. I was only induced to give the
craft my attention from hearing their noise in getting
their anchor.'

Forrestal made no further remark, but walked aft at
a quick pace, and descended into the cabin.

`What can be in the wind now?' asked another
midshipman, who had heard part of the conversation,
and the inquiries of the lieutenant.

`That I can't tell, unless the lugger has been bucaneering,'
answered Veryl, speaking with his cigar
in his mouth, and with his laced cap thrown back from
his brow with an air.

`It is n't that! Forrestal has something in his head
for her. She has been doing some mischief; or, perhaps
he wants her to help him on this cruise that is
whispered about.'

`It may be so. But the clipper-schooner is no doubt
to be ordered on that duty. This was the rumor in
the steerage at supper, you know, Rogers!'

`Steerage rumors are not bulletins. But there is
something in the wind all round; and we shall know,
before either of us are twenty-four hours older, something
more both about this pretty clipper under our
quarter, as well as this lugger that has spread her black
wings and flown seaward.'

`What do you imagine the clipper-schooner has
been ordered out from Baltimore for?' asked Veryl,
taking a Bermuda grass case from his side pocket, and
deliberately drawing forth a fresh cigar. `Take one'
Rogers.'

`Thank you, Fred, I smoke only rapellitos,' responded
the reefer, a round-faced, short young gentleman,
with a bob-tarpaulin, cocked knowingly over his larboard
eye; `and, besides, I have a fresh quid of pig in
just now. Well, I can't tell what she is here for,
unless it is, as the first luff was overheard to say, to
cruise in among the Bahama Keys, where the sloop
wont go.'

`That is my opinion, though nothing certain has
come out. Every thing is kept so close under hatches
in the big cabin.'

`We shall know soon; for the schooner was provisioned
with fresh tuck from shore this afternoon, and
that means anchor a-weigh and blue water!'

`Yes. And we are to sail too, soon, if that is a
sign, for we had at least two bullocks in beef come
aboard to-day, and vegetables and fruit enough to
freight a Yankee skipper. What a long craft that
schooner is!'

`A picture,' answered Rogers, changing his quid
from his right cheek to his left, and taking a closer
view of the little vessel, that lay quietly at anchor a
little ways off the starboard quarter. `I would like to
take command of her myself!'

`I should n't care to take a holyday cruise in her, if
I thought we should fall in with some of these bucaneering
wreckers, and especially the fellow they talk
so much about, that holds out the false lights that lately
have wrecked three of our best merchantmen.'

`That would be a spirited cruise, Fred. I would
like the capturing of that fellow, and I believe Old
Par has something of this sort in his eye.'

`Eight bells,' cried the officer of the deck.

`Eight bells,' repeated Rogers, passing the words
forward, and at the same instant the deep-toned ship's
bell tolled out, in quick double-strokes, the hour of
midnight.

`I am not sorry to turn in, Fred,' said Rogers, as he
prepared to dodge into the steerage, as the relief came
on deck.

`I shall wait up a few minutes, for I want to see
what Forrestal will have to say when he comes out of
the cabin.'

`Hark! what a ringing of eight bells there is!'

They both paused a moment, to listen to the
wild and startling sounds that broke upon the night
from every part of the harbor. From ship to ship the
hoarse midnight call resounded, followed by three
strokes of their bells in every variety of key, from that
of the small war-schooner to that of the ship-of-the-line;
while, mingling with it, came swelling solemnly
upon the breeze, the deep tones of the Cathedral clock
in the city, slowly sounding from its lofty tower; and,
far up in the sky, as it were, was heard the shrill cry
of the Spanish sentinel, upon the Castle battlement,
proclaiming `All is well.'

In a few minutes the sounds, one after another,
ceased, and the reefer was about to disappear to
throw himself into his hammock, when Veryl said,
warningly,

`Do not make a noise, Rogers, if you can help it, as
Harry is, you know, in Forrestal's cot, and only a
bulk-head separates you from him.'

`True; and what, Veryl, is the matter with Harry?
Do you suppose he was crazy when he went overboard
in that style?'

`I can't tell. It is a mystery to me.'

`The doctor says he must have been a little out.'

`I should think he was a little in,' answered Veryl,
with a slight smile at his pun.

`Good, Veryl. But it is too bad to joke upon Harry's
ducking. You would make a pun upon your
grandmother's coffin!'

`To be sure I should, if she had a bad cold!'

`There, you are at it again! Good night.' And the
reefer disappeared down into the steerage, and in two
minutes was sound asleep in his hammock, so lightly
do the cares and events of life lay upon the minds of
young sailors.

Veryl stood a moment on the spot where his friend
had left him, and then advanced a few paces aft and
remained solicitously looking at the entrance of the
cabin, as if expecting the re-appearance of Forrestal;
for he hoped he might yet hear something further from
him in reference to the interest he had taken in the
departure of the lugger. But after waiting some five
minutes, and hearing nothing further from him, he
turned and reluctantly descended to his hammock.
Before throwing himself into it, he went to see how
Harry was. He found him, with the doctor seated by
his cot.

`I thought it was Mr. Forrestal,' said Harry, in a
tone of disappointment. `Have you seen him, Veryl?'

`Yes, he came on deck, and then went into the captain's
cabin.'

`Do you — did you — that is — is the lugger —?'

`You must keep quiet, Harry,' said the doctor,
firmly. `You must not talk. Pulse up to ninety-seven,
and hard.'

`I will not remain here, doctor!' answered Harry,
very positively. `I am as well as you are! I must
know and see!' he said, earnestly.

`You shall know and see, but you must get well
first,' answered the surgeon, kindly, but firmly laying
his hand upon him to detain him, for he had sprung
to his feet.

`The lugger, — is it there still, Veryl?' he asked,
with singular earnestness.

`No. It weighed three hours ago, and put to sea,'
answered Veryl, not a little surprised at the interest
taken also by him, in this obscure craft.

`Gone! Then he is lost forever!' cried Harry, almost
with a shriek; and burying his face in his hands,
he fell back nearly insensible upon the cot.

`He is surely crazy,' said Doctor Fosdick, with
sympathy. `It is a plain case of madness, Mr. Veryl.
He must lose, at the least, sixteen ounces of blood,
without delay.'

`Poor Harry!' said Veryl, sadly. `Such a noble
fellow!'

`Poor boy! mad as a March hare!' answered the
good-hearted doctor, in a husky voice; and wiping
the rim of one of his glasses, which had caught a tear
that was stealing down his brown cheek, he replaced
them upon the bridge of his long nose, and prepared
to bleed him.