 | CHAPTER VI. The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay |  |
6. CHAPTER VI.
Notwithstanding the few moments
during which the signals to the Free-Trader
were suffered to fly, they attracted
the notice of the commissioner,
Mr. Riverton, who had accompanied the
officers on board their ship when they
returned after dinner. The signals,
themselves, would not have been observed
by the captain of the sloop but for
the commissioner, who was at the time
walking the deck with him, and speaking
upon the subject of the hostility of
the merchants to the revenue laws. As
they turned in their walk, and just as
Mr. Riverton was giving Captain Petty
a sketch of the character and influence
of Mr. Frankland, and declaring that if
there were offered any open resistance
to the levying of the tribute, this gentleman
would be at the head of it, his
eye caught sight of the signals flying on
the flag-staff.
“There is mischief there, I fear!”
he said, stopping and pointing to the
hill. “Do you see those flags?”
“Yes,” answered the captain, “I
discovered them before you did, a moment
or two since, but supposed they
were merely signals of the brig's approach
into port to her owner.”
“That flag is not the usual signal
for a brig. It is a telegraphic communication.”
“Give me the glass, sir,” said Captain
Petty to his quarter-master. “I
will look at the brig.”
“They mean more than to tell her
owner of her approach,” said the com
missioner, a good deal excited. “What
do you discover, sir?”
“The brig has lowered two black
balls at her main and hoisted them
twice. It is a telegraphic communication
with her, as you say.”
“See! The brig is putting about!
and the signals are also hauled down.
Captain, if you please, let me see who
are upon the hill? This is all very
singular!”
The spy-glass was placed in the commissioner's
hands, which were half hidden
in deep lace ruffles, and he had not
gazed upon the shore but a moment,
before, with a flushed cheek, he turned
to the captain, and said, with animation—
“Would you believe it, sir? One
of those persons is Mr. Frankland, of
whom we were just speaking. His
daughter is with him, I think. He has
had those signals set for the brig, which
is his own; for I was yesterday looking
carefully over the records of the vessels,
and noting their private signals, and I
remember that two black balls was that
of the Free-Trader, one of Mr. Frankland's
brigs.”
“What can be the object in telegraphing
her?” asked the captain, as
he kept the spy-glass to bear upon the
female figure, which had been discovered
on the height.
“Perhaps to keep away, as you see
she has done. In my opinion, sir, he
intends that she shall land her cargo on
some uninhabited part of the shore of the
bay, and have it carted up to town by
night, thus evading the duties.”
“Then I will defeat him,” answered
the captain, with a smile; “this little
eight-gun schooner has arrived in port
just in time. I will despatch her out
after the brig as soon as the sun goes
down, so that the brig may not see her
her cargo to-night, we will pounce upon
them in the very business. How would
you like to go down in the Gaspee?”
“Is it the Gaspee schooner now
coming up so gallantly? I have heard
a good deal of her exploits.”
“Yes, it is the brave little Gaspee!
I asked the admiral to let me have her
as a sort of tender, for shoal water affairs,
and running up the bay and into
the creeks. She has arrived just in
time to do good service. Yes, the brig
has fairly turned her stern towards us,
and is running close-hauled down the
bay.”
“It is, you may be assured, captain, a
plan for stealing her cargo ashore,”
said Mr. Riverton. “If the merchants
are going to be so sharp in their wits,
we must sharpen ours to keep up with
them. I will go down in the schooner,
for it is my place to be on the spot
when the brig is boarded. I shall be a
happy man to defeat Mr. Frankland in
his patriotic purposes of evading the
duties,” said the commissioner, rubbing
his palms together and chuckling at
the prospect of making a seizure of the
brig and cargo. “After he loses one
richly laden bark, he will be more willing
to submit to the crown's just laws.”
The schooner now came so near as
to commence saluting the Bexley, and
as she passed under her stern, Captain
Petty hailed her, and ordered the lieutenant
in command to run in and anchor
with a short cable, and then come
on board of him.
“Aye, aye, sir!” responded the officer,
touching his blue cap; and Mr.
Riverton admired how gracefully the
little cruiser glided onward towards the
town, like a bird on the wing.
“Bless me, captain, what a beautiful
object a vessel is, particularly a vessel
of war! In my opinion, a ship under
sail is the finest sight in the world.
This Gaspee is a saucy looking rogue
and shows her teeth as savage as a bulldog.
She will do us good service in
the bay, especially in cruising above;
for it is my opinion that more than one
foreign vessel will discharge outside
into some Providence trading sloop,
and so the sloop would run up with
a rich cargo to that town, and I might
whistle for her to stop and pay duties.”
“I swear every craft that goes up the
bay shall be boarded and strictly overhauled,”
answered the captain.
“That is right, sir. I see you resolve
to make thorough work of the
matter, sir, and we are fortunate in
having so efficient an officer in the service
sent to this station.” And the
commissioner bowed politely, and the
captain slightly acknowledged the compliment
with a nod. Mr. Riverton was
about to make some other remark, when
the ensign came floating down about
his head, and his ears were stunned by
the loud discharge of an eighteen-pounder
within ten feet of him.
“Bless me! what is that? Really,
captain, one must screw up his nerves
on ship-board.”
“It was the sunset-gun, sir,” observed
the captain, quietly, while he smiled at
the start which it had given the precise
and uninitiated commissioner.
The captain now invited his guest
below to take coffee, and wait for the
lieutenant of the Gaspee to come on
board and receive his instructions; and
while the commissioner is penning at
the table a brief note to his deputy to
be sent on shore, we will go forward to
another part of the vessel, and on the
gun-deck, where a young man is seated,
his hands and feet manacled. He
was alone—and through the open port
shores, with an expression of mingled
pleasure and pain.
“So, my lad,” said the boatswain,
coming along past him, “you thought
you would get ashore here, while we
were anchored in the harbor; but it is no
go! Ten pound of iron ain't the best
thing to swim with. You missed
stays that time, my lad. You ought to
consider yourself lucky you did n't
get my cat with thirty-nine on your
back!”
The young man merely smiled, and
looked out of the port as before. But
there was a compression of the mouth
and a fire in his eye that showed a spirit
that even chains had not cowed or
broken. The boatswain passed on,
muttering—
“He is a brave fellow, and I am glad
I had n't orders given me to tie him
up for it!”
He was again alone, for the crew
were seated in messes between the guns
at supper, heedless of him. In a few
moments, a youthful officer, in a blue
cap, with a gold band around it, and a
sword at his side, came near him, and
after regarding him a moment, said, in
tones of mingled reproach and sorrow.
“I grieve to see you in this condition,
Martin; I am sorry you did not preserve
more caution, if you intended to
escape from the ship. If you had delayed
till to-night, and dropped overboard
under cover of the darkness, you
might have got your liberty.”
“I could not delay, Mr. Althorp, in
the very sight of my mother's roof. I
even beheld her, or fancied I did. You
would have done what I did, sir, if you
had been four years and a half torn
away from your home as I have been,”
added the young man, between grief
and indignation, his fine features flushed
with deep emotion. “I see now, sir,
that it would have been wiser for me to
have waited a better season; but who
can blame me, sir? It was with difficulty
I could repress my emotions, as
we came to anchor, and I beheld before
me the dear scenes which, for nearly
five years, have been in my thoughts by
day and in my dreams by night. It is
hard, sir, that I should wear these
chains,” he said, rising and standing up
to the full height of his manly form,
and clanking his bands as he spoke of
them; “it is hard that I should wear
these for loving my country and my
home!'
“It is, indeed, Martin,” answered the
young officer, with feeling. “And if I can
help you,” he added, in a lower tone of
voice, and looking round to see that he
was not overheard, “you shall not wear
them longer than the middle watch!”
“Indeed, sir! Are you then still
my friend?” exclaimed the young seaman,
with surprise and pleasure.
“Yes, Martin; do you suppose I can
ever forget your gallantry in springing
into the water to save me from the shark;
as I was bathing at Port Praya; killing
him with your own knife in the water!
No, no: I owe my life to you, and I
will try to return you some part of the
debt of gratitude I owe you! If you
wish to escape to-night, I will aid you!”
“I wish to escape, sir, God knows!”
answered the young-man, earnestly:
“for my heart yearns once more to embrace
my mother, if, indeed, she still
lives! But, sir,” and he hesitated, and
then said, “but, sir, I do not wish to
implicate you in my escape. Rather
than you should suffer, I would prefer
to stay where I am, and trust to the
clemency of the captain to let me go
free!”
“He will not release you while the
on shore; and you are, he says, too
good a seaman for him to lose you.—
You have no hope then, Martin. You
must, therefore, let me aid you! Do
not fear any evil to me, for I trust we
shall manage the matter so secretly,
that it will be known only to you and I;
will you consent?”
“Consent, sir! who would refuse
liberty?” answered the young man,
grasping his hand. “Heaven bless
you, Mr. Althorp! I did not know I
had a friend in all this ship!”
“You have many, Martin; but they
fear to express their sympathy with you
There is not a sailor of your mess, who
would not rejoice in your escape!”
“Well, sir, I will do whatever you
say,” answered the young man. “I
only do not wish to have you censured.”
“Think not of me, my brave Martin.
Now let me tell you that I have arranged
everything before I came to you
I have succeeded in secretly obtaining
the key to your irons; and after it is
dark abroad, and just as the bells, at
the close of the dog-watch, are striking,
I will be here. Here is the key; and
take advantage of the noise made in
piping hammocks down, to unlock your
irons; but keep them on till I come to
you.”
“How can I thank you, sir!”
“You have already repaid me. I feel
that you are, like all the impressed colonists,
unjustly detained in the service;
and it is a pity, after being so long absent
and in sight of your native town,
you cannot reach it.”
“I ought not to have told so freely
among the men my joy that the Bexley
was coming here to Newport, and mentioned
to the purser's clerk, whom I
thought my well-wisher, that I should,
if I could, quit the ship here. I have no
doubt, sir, it was he who betrayed me.”
“It was, Martin. As the captain's
gig was ordered along side to take him
off to the commissioner's to dine, the
clerk asked the captain, in my hearing,
if he knew that this was your native
town? And hinted that he had understood
you would try to escape.”
“And it was this, then, that led the
captain to order another coxswain to
take my place, when I had already seated
myself in the stern-sheets?” asked
Martin, indignantly.
“Yes; and at the same time, he
hurried to give orders to the boatswain
to bring a pair of irons, when you sprang
overboard, and began to swim for the
shore!”
“I felt, sir, that I should rather be
shot in the attempt, than not make it!”
“I understand your feelings perfectly,
Martin. But here comes a light!
I must go! Now, keep quiet until
eight o'clock!”
| CHAPTER VI. The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay | |