University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

The scenes described in the two foregoing chapters, formed the
subject of Carleton's painful and self-convicting meditation, as
he stood by the couch, and silently gazed upon the marble-like
form of the stricken and faithful Eve. At length, alarmed, for he
did not wish her dead—and to die thus; he proceded to restore
her to consciousness. But she had lain there so long in the image
of death, that it was sometime before she showed signs of returning
animation. Slowly, and at intervals so long, that it seemed
she would never again breathe, her bosom heaved with life. He
knelt by her and pressed his lip to hers, and breathed upon her
mouth as if he would give her life. He felt anxious and deeply
solicitous; for though be loved her not, his better nature was interested
in her; and as she lay there, he internally made the resolution,
that henceforward, so she came not between him and his
hopes of Blanche Hillary, he would treat her with gentleness, and
gratify her with the form of affection. These kindlier feelings at
once took possession of his breast, doubtless awakened by the ret
rospect of the youthful and boyish past, when together they
sailed, and fished, and rambled, sang, sketched, and rode together;
like brother and sister never severed, but in all pastime ever
united. And these purer memories, with the reflection of what a
vast sacrifice she was daily making for her love's sake, gave a
tenderness to his manner and voice, as he bent over her and softly
whispered her name.

The change was instant and surprising. Her heart felt the thrill
to its centre, and bounding with new life, sent the blood like lightning
into the pale cheek. Her eyes opened, and met his beaming
upon her with seeming love and tender interest, and smiling with
unutterable love and gratitude, she caught his hand from her throbing
heart and pressed it passionately to her lips. One word, spoken
in tenderness, had restored her to life. She lay still unable to
rise, with her eyes elevated to his face: and eyes more beautiful
and full of affection, nay, and bright tears too; were never the
messengers of a heart. Carleton read in them the deathless love
of her being. He was touched, and bending over her, he lifted
her from the couch and pressed her to his heart. What a happy
moment was this for the wife. Jealousy, suspicion, pride, all were
forgotten. Edward loved her; and in the sweet consciousness of
this knowledge, she knew nothing beyond it.

“Forgive me, Edward,” she said when able to speak; “I have
deeply wronged you.”

“Care not for it, dear Eve. It was thy strong love, and can I
be hurt at any proof of thy devotion.”

“Yet—'tis like a dream: would to God it were!—yet you have
told me you loved me not. But this is false, and thou didst deceive
thy own heart. I know thou didst, Edward.”

“Yes, Eve!” he said with a degree of hesitation.

“I know thou lovest me, and besides me no one Edward. In
this sweet assurance I am happy. Go now; Morris Græme has
twice called you from the deck. One look, and smile to re-assure my
heart. Thanks, dear Edward; Nay I ask not a kiss! Now am I
happy.”

Carleton left her, strangely and painfully oppressed with the
sense of the wrong he was doing her, and returned to the deck
from which he had been so long absent. The moon still reigned
with silvery sceptre over shore and sea, and the sparkling waves
danced in her light on every side. The schooner was slipping
along through the water, at the rate of seven and a half knots,
with every drawing sail set alow and aloft. Carleton on putting
his foot on deck, glanced aloft at the clouds of snowy-canvass, and
then his eye fell on the brigantine, which was sailing not two
hundred fathoms from the schooner square abeam.

“Is that the brig that was ahead, when I went below, Morris?”
he asked, after a moment's survey.

“Yes; and for this I called you. I have been examining her
closely with the glass, and find enough on deck as well as in her
hull and spars, to make me suspicious of her. When she found,
about an hour ago, that we were creeping up to her, and were
likely to overhaul and pass her, she set her studden-sail and would
have run away from us, but for our increase of canvass. You
see I have got the schooner under all she can handle with this
stern breeze, and yet the brig is abeam, and has held her position
the last twenty minutes.”

“The glass, if you please. There is but one vessel that can sail
with the Dancing Feather,” said Carleton, putting the spy-glass
to his eye. After looking at her a moment, he added in a low, impressive
tone of voice, peculiar to him when much moved, “and
that is the craft. She run away from me when I was in my Spanish
schooner in the West Indies, though that little Sea-Slipper, as
I called her, sailed nearly as well as the Dancing Feather. By
the by, Morris, I have decided to re-christen the schooner. The
Dancing Feather for good reasons known to both of us, must give
place to another. And as I am bound to the West Indies (when I
can get guns aboard) I shall give her the name of my pretty Spanish
craft, which that John Bull cruiser captured; leaving me and
my men, barely time to escape in our boats through the Lagoons.”

“Success to the Sea-Slipper then,” said Morris Græme; it will
be a fine daring of your old cruising enemy John Bull, to re-appear
again on his cruising ground, with the Sea-Slipper revived.”

“And if we meet a second time, it will be his last cruise,” said
Carleton fiercely. “This brigantine is a pleasure yacht, hailing
from Baltimore I cant be mistaken in her. She was once a
square-rigged, and perhaps has been dismasted and altered aft to a
schooner rig.”

“I would be sworn to her Captain,” said Red Fred, who having
just struck four bells and been relieved at the wheel, was passing
forward; “was'nt she in the Havanna two years ago last month,
and made a sort of city show for the Spanish?”

“She is the same, Fred,” said Carleton, with the glass still at
his eye, evidently taking a very close scrutiny of the stranger. “I
was on board of her, Morris, then and made up my mind to have
her. I had the Sea-Slipper lying there in a creek, on the south
side of the island, and ascertaining the day in which the vessel —

“Did'nt they call her “The Lancet,” said Fred, who still lingered
in the waist.

“The Lance, you mean, Fred. It is the same craft, without
question. Learning when she was to put to sea, I was off Havanna,
waiting for and giving her a good offing, I gave chase,
expecting to come up with her in my own way, and my own time;
but I reckoned without my host. Soon as her skipper found what
I was after, he just walked away from me, as if I had been a fruitdroger.
I then put the Sea-Slipper to her best paces, and gained
what I had lost. We had been running hitherto with the wind
aft. It was a stern chase. But he, finding my studden-sails did
me so much better service than his own, and doubtless well aware
of his best sailing points, suddenly took in his starboard studden-sails
and hauled on the wind, set his stay-sails fore and aft, and
his three jibs (which you see he has now,) and with the wind four
points free, she went off on the wind with as light a pair of heels
as the devil would put upon a thief. By sun-down she was hull
down and I gave up the chase.”

“The Sea-Slipper was not a fast sailor, Carleton, or the chase
would not have run away from you in that style,” said Græme
“See we hold with her now, and, by Heaven, are slipping a half
point ahead. She could'nt compare with this schooner.”

“She was in bad trim at the time, and not well manned. Besides
her best point of sailing was with the wind nearly dead aft.
If the brig had not discovered this, and kept on before the wind,
I should have overhauled her. But this Sea-Slipper, Græme, shall
atone for the fault of her name-sake. She, like the brig, sails best
on a wind. That fellow must know me. But, infernal devils! we
are without a gun.”

“He carries two,” said Morris significantly. “But if he would
only wait a week for us, we could show him a little sport.”

“What do you mean?” asked Carleton earnestly.

“There is an old fort near the mouth of the Kennebec river in
Maine, (not thirty hours run from here,) which is nearly dismantled.
It is not far from my place of nativity, and in boyhood I
often visited it. It was then occupied by a few soldiers, the war
having just ended. I was at the place again three months since,
having secretly re-visited my native village, hearing my father
was ill. It was then quite deserted, but there were in the embrasures
four excellent guns, the carriages in tolerable repair; for I
examined them with the probability of being some day in want of
them. The fort stands elevated, but a vessel can anchor in deep
water under it, and the guns can be removed without difficulty.
They will answer our purpose until we can capture more suitable
ones.”

“This is well conceived, Morris, for I confess I had come to no
definite purpose. But the amunition?”

“There are two pyramids of balls in the fort; and two leagues
further up the river, is the town of Bath near which in a retired
spot stands a powder-house. From this we can remove what we
require.”

“Well planned, Morris,” exclaimed Carleton with animation.
It shall at once be put into execution, and as you have been so
clever as to conceive it, you shall carry it into execution. The active
command of the schooner, I resign into your hands till this
enterprise is carried through. We are slipping past the brig as
you said, Morris. At the wheel, there. Let her fall of a point;
steady! With the wind a point more on our quarter, we will improve
our advantage.”

“The brig has fallen of as we have,” said Morris. “She evidently
is governing her motion by our own.”

The two vessels now sailed along very near each other with all
sails set, and presenting a beautiful sight. Symmetry and motion
combined, are ever beautiful to the eye; and two more graceful
vessels never danced over a moonlit sea. Carleton and Græme
stood a few moments silently admiring the freedom and grace of
the brigantine as she cleaved the snowytrack with her spray-glittering
bows; her tall masts clothed with shining canvass from
the water to the truck, towering into the deep blue sky: and her
flashing wake streaming like a meteor far astern. And to the
eyes of those on the deck of the brigantine, the schooner presented
an equally beautiful appearance.

“I will know something more of this craft, and see what her
business is up the Sound. It is the Lance, for this insignia is
now glittering in the beams of the moon, at her foremast head,”
he said, directing his glance aloft, where the moon-light suddenly
revealed a long glittering lance of silvery appearance affixed to
the royal-mast-head.”

“Her Captain, then, if Red Fred be right, is the owner; and is
a naval officer on leave,” said Morris.

“I will make his acquaintance. I saw him once in a cafe in
Havanna—a handsome, gallant looking, sailor-like person; and I
have reason to know him to be a good seaman. I will breakfast
with him.”

“He may compel you to dine, then,” said Morris laughing, but
with a meaning in his words that his commander understood
“We have no guns.”

“He cannot suspect us. Our having no guns will be in my favor,
as I intend to pass ourselves upon him for a yacht. We are
no more nor less now Morris, God knows to our sorrow;” he said
smiling.

“We shall be something more ere three days, if we run at one
for the Kennebec.”

“That we shall do—but I would like to learn something of the
probable whereabouts of this sporting craft, three days hence. I
have no wish to capture her save for her guns and small arms. I
would not give the schooner for two of her. She is too large for
our sport, Græme. But I should like to capture her in a fair
chase, to wipe off the old failure. I would then be willing to present
her back to her Captain, if he proves a fine fellow, with my
best wishes for a pleasant cruise. Morris, call the men aft to the
sheets and braces. I am going to put her away two points more,
and see if I can't shoot ahead and go across his fore-foot.”

The young Lieutenant of the Sea-Slipper at once gave the necessary
orders and the schooner was steered in a course which
gradually drew her nigher the brig, which she would soon have
fallen astern of and crossed her wake, if her own speed proved
not to be increased by this alteration. But the advantage of
this slight change in her course was soon apparent. While she
approached the brigantine she worked perceptibly ahead of her,
and sailed clearly a knot faster on a free bow-line than with both
the sheets aft. Carleton stood leaning over the bulwarks looking
at the brig with a proud expression of triumph in his dark
eyes, while Morris watched closely the sails and helmsman, that
no advantage might be lost. The brig still kept on her course, the
two lines of direction forming an angle, the brig sailing along the
line parallell with the horizon and the schooner approaching obliquily.
As they heard each other, Caleton closed his glass and
handed it to the boy who had volunteered to act as steward, and
jumping into the main rigging, he stood upon the bulwarks with
one foot upon a rattling watching her decks.

“How steadily we work ahead on her course said Morris,” glancing
over the side of the brig which they were fast approaching.
“She is resolved not to alter her steerage half-a-point.”

“Then we shall make acquaintance with her pencil-like, flying-jib-boom
end,” said Carleton. “My trumpet here, boy!”

The trumpet was promptly placed in his hand by the lad and
Carleton took an attitude for hailing the stranger who was now on
his starboard bow not fifty fathoms distance. The two vessels
were rapidly nearing each other at the bows and it was a nice question
which should shoot ahead of the other; as they sailed they
promised to come in collision, the bow-sprit of the Sea-Slipper
pointing directly at the figure-head of the brig. But the schooner
was moving fastest through the water and might shoot ahead and
clear of the brig. But it was doubtful; Carleton and Græme both
saw their true position but were confidant of passing safely ahead
of her.

It was evident that their manœuvre was watched with no little
interest from the brig. Two persons were on her quarter-deck,
one with a glass in his hand the other with a silver trumpet that
gleamed at every motion of his hand in the bright moonshine. It
was the sight of his trumpet that led Carleton to call for his own.

Swiftly and gracefully like two fair knights prancing towards
each other with snowy plumes nodding in the breeze, the two vessels
came dancing on, neither deviating from its original course.
The dark tall pyramid of sails on the brig's fore-mast already rose
between Carleton and the moon, casting their shadow upon his
quarter-deck; and the ripple and gurgling of the water agitated by
the brig's motion through it mingled with the sound of the spray-dash
about the schooner's bows.

“We are in no condition to lose a spar, Carleton, or suffer damage
in the hull,” said Morris. “Shall I bring her to the wind a couple
of points? We are sure to be foul of her or have her bowsprit run
between our masts!”

Carleton made no reply, save a dark proud smile, and seemed to
watch intently the deck of the other, Morris turned on his hee
muttering,

“This is fool-hardy! If we get damaged I can never carry out
my plan of getting the guns from the old Kennebec Fort.” His
further thoughts were interrupted by a loud, stern hail from the
brig. While his weather-bow port flew open and a gun was run
out.

“Schooner ahoy!”

“Aye, aye!” answered Carleton in a clear manly tone not making
use of his trumpet.

“What the devil do you mean by coming athwart my vessel in
this buccaneer style Luff, or by G—d I'll fire into you!”

“Steady as you are;” cried Carleton coolly turning to the helmsman:
then answering the other he said, with a provoking indifference,

“When I give my helmsman my orders I never interfere with
him. He is steering his proper course. I should be sorry to run
nto you, and equally regret to have you fire into me. But
I never change the course of my vessel at the dictation of any man.
The sea is free for all who rove it.”

There was just a probability that the schooner would forge
ahead clear; but the chances were more probable for a collision.
If she fell off from her course the breath of a bowline, contact was
inevitable. Still they were approaching each other with a merry
rippling and dashing of the water and hastening the crisis.

“He will put up his helm you may rest assured,” said Carleton.

“There is too much firmness in his tones for that,” said Morris.
“But we shall soon see.”

The vessels now were not two lengths apart, and both had way
nearly seven knots.

“Luff, I say;” again thundered the Captain of The Lance.

“Steady;” cried Carleton to the man at the helm. “I have
told you that I never change my vessel's course;” he answered to
the fiery hail of the other. He saw that collision was inevitable unless
one them deviated. But reekless as he was brave, he loved
the excitement and the danger; and there was besides, a pride
his preseverance for that very vessel had once humbled
his pride. In his heart he resolved to risk the safety of his vessel
rather than yield an inch to that craft. The captain of the other
could have had no such motives, but kept his vessel undeviatingly
on her course due east. Silently they approached the point of collision,
when all at once, a bright flame issued from the bow port of
the brig; bang thundered the gun, and the ball buried itself with
a shock that made the schooner lurch and reel, deep into the main-mast,
just above the rack of capstain bars. The next instant amid
the rolling smoke there was heard a loud crashing and shivering
of splinters, mingled with the curses of men, and the schooner shot
ahead out of the confusion, dragging with her the flying jib and
jib-boom of the brig, carrying away her top-mast studden-sail
dangling at the end of her top-sail yard, and losing her own stern-boat
and half the mainsail, through which the brig in heaving
ahead as the schooner crossed her bow, run the splintered head
of her bow-sprit. All this mischief was done in a moment, and
the two vessels separated and passed on without, at first, scarcely
any check to their way.

“I have a mind to give you my other gun,” shouted the Captain
of the brig as the schooner passed clear of the confusion; “but I
see you have not escaped any better than we have Who re
you?”

“The Sea-Slipper,” answered Carleton in a tone that sounded
like proud defiance; while he smiled at anticipating the other's astonishment.
The mention of this name had the effect he looked for.
They heard an exclamation of surprise and then came the voice of
the commander.

I know your colours now, my lad! I thought you had been
sunk or is there a pair of Slippers. We have met before. I will
not let you go then since such is your quality without another
card.”

The starbord port in the waist was thrown open and the next moment
the gun was discharged. The brig, however, steered awk
wardly in her crippled state, and the shot fell wide, dashing a huge
feather of spray into the moonlight far to leward.

“I owe you two,” said Carleton quietly, and leaping on deck
turned his attention to the state of the schooner. She already began
to steer wildly, for she was much clogged forward by the
brig's studden-sail and spars that hung from her bow-sprit, and
felt the want of her mainsail. Morris, though vexed at what he
termed the fool-hardiness of Carleton and the equal obstinacy of
the young naval officer commanding the brig, as if they had been
two rivals meeting, gave himself with alacrity to repairing damages.
The wreck was cut adrift, the sail being saved, and the injury
done was ere day-light nearly repaired. The stern-beat which
had been torn from one of the davits and left hanging by the other
was much stove; but being hoisted to its place it was left for another
time; the schooner having two light wha le boats slung a
either quarter-bulwark.

Day had began to dawn when the schooner was got again under
her former accurate steerage way. By the time the pearly hues
of the east deepened into the blushing glory of the morning—ere
yet the sun emerges from beneath the horizon—the two vessels
lately in such mischeivous proximity were three leagues asunder;
the brigantine, her damages unrepaired being seen far to windward,
near the Connecticut shore, standing back towards New-York,
while the schooner was sailing easily along on a bowline, a mile from
the land, off Oyster bay. The latter vessel from her rakish appearance
in connection with the firing that had been heard on the sound
a few hours before, was evidently an object of suspicion to the small
trading vessels, which one and all bore up as they came near, and
gave her a wide birth. But the Sea-Slipper kept on her course
indifferent to their demonstrations of fear, and at sundown passed,
with an eight knot breeze from the north-west, between Fisher's
Island and the eastern extremity of Long Island, and before midnight
she left Montauk Point on the starboard quarter, and then
stretched away like a sea-bird into the open ocean.