 | CHAPTER XXIII. The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay |  |
23. CHAPTER XXIII.
The mother of the young seaman
hastened to hide him from the pursuit
of the enemies which she supposed,
from the loud shouts which had reached
her ears, to be close upon them. She
took him by the arm and led him to a
small inner room, or closet, the door of
which she closed behind her. Then
setting the light down upon the floor,
she removed two boards in the side of
the closet, and exposed a recess about
two feet deep and six feet in breadth,
large enough to contain two persons,
or one both to sit and lie down with
ease.
“Here, Martin, you will be safe,”
she said, thrusting him in. “I will
come back to you as soon as I find all is
quiet.”
She hastened to the outer door, her
fears for his safety greatly relieved by
a sense of his security in the hiding-place
in which she had left him, and
bent her ear to listen to the cries of new
and stranger sounds that reached her
from the town.
“There is something going on more
than usual,” she exclaimed, as a sudden
and louder shout than all was
borne to her ears. “I will see what it
is. They seem to be farther off than
they sounded at first. I will go up no
the hill-side, and see if I can make out
anything. My dear boy 'll be safe
where he is.”
Satisfied, after a few moments' survery,
that the voices and shouts which
her fears had led her to refer to enemies
in pursuit of the fugitive, proceeded
from the wharves and from the
towns-people, she resolved to hasten
forward to learn the cause.
“I will not be ten minutes away, and
my boy 'll be safe the while, for I
must needs know what all this means.
It may concern him and his safety for
me to know. No one will think of
coming after him in the short time I
am absent, and if they should, they will
never find him. Had I jewels and gold
untold, I would hide them there and feel
that they was safe. I suspect that the brig
is Mr. Frankland's, and that they are
landing the cargo without duty, but I
will soon learn, and be back to my boy
in a few minutes.”
Thus speaking, and hastening forward
as she spoke, Margaret Manwaring
hurried along the path which led
along the curve of the shore towards
the town. She soon entered the first
street of the suburb, and came upon
persons hurrying towards the pier;
while in the doors and windows stood
and excitement.
“What is all this, friends?” she
asked, addressing two men who were
just coming from a ship, with difficulty
tearing themselves from their terrified
wives.
“Ah, mad Margaret, now is the time
for spells and witchcraft,” said one of
the men. “Here is Mr. Frankland's
brig come in to the wharf, and is to be
unloaded to-night, they say, in spite of
the war-ships. Old Mr. Frankland 'll
give you a pound of silver, if you'll
spirit his goods into his store-house for
him.”
“Alas!” ejaculated Margaret, “I
shall always be held as mad! I must
with my boy, fly these scenes of the
past five years, if I would live in peace.”
And thus saying, she passed on her
way without speaking or taking any notice
of the remarks which had been
made by the man.
“Mag is in one of her sullen fits tonight,”
said as overgrown boy, who
was hastening past with others, towards
the scene of excitement on the wharf.
“I know what it is, and why need I
go farther, to be thus assailed, now
that I am in my right mind?” she said
with deep emotion. “I will return and
relieve the anxieties of my dear boy.
Mad Margaret! how this name that I
once could hear with indifference or
laughter, now grates upon my ears.
I will not remain in Newport, where my
son can hear these words. They would
break his noble heart.”
Thus speaking, she turned to retrace
her steps, when a person coming from
the direction in which she still heard the
shouts of the people brushed past.—
She instantly recognised him as the negro
slave of Miss Frankland. She advanced,
and caught him by the arm.
“Where is your master?” she cried,
in a quick, earnest tone.
“He board de brig. Don't stop me,
mad Margaret. Massa Frankland sent
me tell Missy Barbara not be frightened,
and stay at home till he comes up
to de house.”
“Are they unloading the brig?”
“Guess dey be! Got him cargo
mos' half out reddy! Nebber see ship
unload quarter so soon as de Free-Trader,
dis time. But don't stop me,
ma'am, coz I got to get massa's key
and carry to him, 'sides tellin' Missy
Barbara not to come down to de wharf
wid ebbery body else, coz dere is half
de town coming.”
“But your master is mad to attempt
to unload his brig. He will lose his
vessel.”
“Massa know what he 'bout. Me
hab seen fightin' to-night down the bay!
I nebber know how loud cannon go
afore! But don't keep me, coz massa
Frankland want de key ob his desk.”
“Stay! Did you hear anything
about any English boats coming on
shore after deserters?”
“Dey not come as I know! Dey
keep off, I guess, coz de town be fairly
up, an' too strong for 'em!”
With these words the negro broke
from her, and hastened on his way.
Margaret remained standing a moment
where he had left her, as if reflecting
as to the course of conduct she should
take, and then turning, followed him
with rapid strides.
Barbara Frankland, in the meanwhile,
after her departure from the
cottage, had reached home. During
her lonely and hurried walk in the
darkness, she had hardly leisure to
dwell upon the events which had just
passed; but when she had reached her
roem and began to reflect upon them,
she felt her heart overflowing, she
knew not wherefore, with joy; and
hopes altogether new, filled her bosom.
“Bless me, Miss Barbara,” said her
faithful maid, Edith, coming in a few
minutes after her mistress; “where
have you been out so late? I have been
into all the neighbors for you; and
was just going down to mad Margaret's
hut, to see if you had not gone there,
when the ostler said he saw you come
in by the garden! Where have you
been? and all this firing of cannon
too, down the bay, as if a terrible battle
was a-fighten! I am so rejoiced to
see you safe! But where is Mr.
Frankland? And how happy you look,
and so flushed! Dear me! Where
have you been? I know you have
seen mad Margaret, and she has told
you see her, as I advised you, and tell
her all the dream? And what did she
say it was?”
“What a tongue you have, Edith!
You can put more questions into one
speech than anybody I ever heard!”
“But I have been so frightened
about you, and so dark as it is!”
“Well, I have been safe. I went to
Margaret, or rather Mrs. Manwaring;
for she has recovered her reason in a
most extraordinary manner.”
“Got her senses back again! Dear
me!” exclaimed Edith, who was a
short, fat, good-natured little body, of
eight-and-twenty, with a great deal of
good sense, combined with credulity
and harmless superstition.
“Yes; and if you must know, I have
told her my dream, and—and—”
“The bird is yourself! Didn't she
say so?”
“You are as great a witch as she is,
Edith!”
“Then I guessed right! And the
young man with the cage is to be your
husband!”
“I don't know that! But one
thing is certain, that I have seen this
very night the very young man that
held the cage in the dream!”
“Seen him! Seen the young man
alive, and sure enough!”
“Yes, Edith.”
“Where? When? Do tell me,
Miss Barbara! You know you always
tell me all your secrets!”
“Well, it is very extraordinary, altogether!
I will tell you all I can!”
“No, no! I want to know all!”
“Well you shall know most all! I
went to the hut of Mrs. Manwaring, and
took tea with her, and—”
“Did she turn up the tea-cup, or did
you, to see the grounds?”
“Neither of us! But you must not
inte rrupt me!”
“Well, I won't; Oh, I am so impatient!
Seen the very young man!
Oh, how odd! It makes me afraid!
How was it? and where is he? Why
didn't—”
—“If you are going to ask so many
questions—”
—“Well, I am silent. Not another
word from my lips!” and Edith held
firmly two of her fingers upon her
mouth, to seal it.
“After tea Mrs. Manwaring—”
“Do you mean mad Margaret?”
“Don't call her so, Edith. She is
herself now since the extraordinary occurrences
of to-night!”
“Do let me hear?”
“She offered to walk homeward
with me; and on the way, as we were
passing round the rock where the three
pines grow, we heard a person swiming
towards the shore. It was dark,
but we could ascertain he was struggling
hard for his life. We hastened
to his aid; but we had to go round
some ways on account of the steep
rocks, and when we reached the place
where we expected him to land, we
saw him lying upon the Carved-Rock,
and nearly insensible. But he soon revived,
and told us that he was a pressed
sailor, who had made his escape from
the sloop of war.”
“Poor young man! I'll warrant
Margaret felt for him, on account of
her own son, and offered to take him
home!”
“She did! And especially when
she discovered that it was her own
son!”
“Her own son! What! Martin
Manwaring?”
“Yes. It was none other than he.”
“How wonderful! Where is he?”
“At her hut, as you may suppose.
The sight of him restored her to herself
completely.”
“I am so glad for her and for him!
He was a handsome, noble boy, I remember.
How strange he should have
swam ashore and been found by his
own mother!”
“But stranger, still, when I saw his
face by the light, I recognised in him
the very young man I had seen in my
dream!”
“Oh, when will wonders end!”
“The likeness flashed upon me so
suddenly, that it was with great difficulty
I could command my self-possession,
or keep from fainting with surprise.
But I succeeded in concealing
my emotion both from him and his
mother, who was too much overjoyed
had eyes for no one else but him.”
“The very young man in the dream!
Was ever the like heard! Exactly?”
“Dress and features, and tone of
the voice! It was in fact the same,
only he had no cage in his hand,
and I was awake instead of dreaming.
Yet it seems almost like a dream.”
“And yet you don't seem to be
disappointed, Miss Barbara, that he
should turn out to be Margaret Manwaring's
son! For it stands to reason,
you know, that you will have to be his
wife!”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Barbara, with
a stare of surprise, beneath which
played a half smile.
“Yes; you can't act contrary from
dreams and be lucky! What a pity!”
“What is a pity?”
“That it should turn out to be,
Margaret's son! Only a poor seaman
it may be.”
“Was he not in the dream only a
sailor?”
“That is true? I did not think of
that! But then it might have been a
prince or nobleman in disguise. That
is what I hoped.”
`I am content as it is, Edith,” answered
Barbara, quietly.
“Content! What, to marry Martin
Manwaring! Dear bless me! What
will happen next?”
“Edith,” said Barbara, in a low,
impressive tone, as if telling a great
secret, “do you know I have seen
grown to be a handsome young man,
the lad who gave me the shells?”
“There! I am silenced now! Tell
me next that the world is coming to an
end to-morrow, and I'll believe it! Is
it true?”
“Yes! You know I have said I
could never love any one else.”
“Yes. And as you say you have
seen him, you will have to marry him.
I hope he is, at least, one of the officers
of this war-ship.',
“It is none other,” she answered
with a a smile, “than the young sailor
of my dream, Martin Manwaring.”
| CHAPTER XXIII. The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay | |