University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

The young man who was watching in the
storm, continued to pace up and down in the
shelter afforded him by the projecting roof of
the house in which Robert Alison and his
daughter dwelt, sometimes trying to overhear
what was spoken within, and at others bending
his eyes upon the white waves, as if he
would penetrate the gloom in search of some
object.

`It is past eleven o'clock,' he at length
said, speaking in a tone of mingled dissatisfaction
and impatience. `He will not be
here to-night. I may as well return to the
Inn. Yet, the light sky in the north looks
as if it would break away by midnight. The
rain has long since ceased, and that blast a
while ago, that made me think this old rookery
would blow over, was the last of the tempest;
for it has been lulling ever since. I
will go up to the tavern and take something,
and then, if it clears up, will come down
again.'

He lingered a moment, to take a more
thorough survey of the harbor, so far as he
could do so in the gloom of the night, and
was turning away, when he saw a human figure
standing directly in his path, and close to
him. Evidently, the person did not see him
till he had emerged from the dark shadow
under the eaves-dropper, for, upon discovering
his appearance, he uttered an exclamation
of surprise, and started, as if to run
away. But the young man sprung forward
like a bold spirit who knows no fears, and
grasped him by the arm.

`Who are you?' he sternly demanded.

`Don't skweeze nigger's arm kwite so
hard, massa!' responded the fugitive, in a
board African dialect, while he endeavored,
by various contortions of his body, to disengage
himself from the hold the young man
had upon him.

`What are you doing here?—mischief, I
will wager!'

`No, massa, I jist come down see if 'em
storm done rainin!'

`A likely story; you could tell that without
sneaking down here at the end of the
pier, and dodging me! you was watching
me, you rogue!'

`Nebber, massa, nebber!' answered the
negro, in tones of deprecation, `I only come
see if—if—'

`If what? tell the truth, and no stammering,
or I'll souse you in the dock.'

`Bress you, don't massa,—wy, I wet nuff
now,' answered the negro, as if he was speaking
half in jest. `I come down to see how
massa Cap'n Robert come on—now you hab
de gospel truf.'

`And who is massa Cap'n Robert?'

`Sh, massa! he lib in here—he an' Missy
Jenney; dey hear us!'

`And who is Miss Jenney?'

`She massa Robert's da'ter, and handsome
and good as an angel; ony dey 'mazin sorrowful
poor!'

`Poor, are they? So I should think, to
live in such a rickety old castle as this.'

`Best dey hab, massa—de berry best dey
can get, coz dey monstrous poor,—and massa
Cap'n he got a broke leg, and bed-ridd,
and Miss Jenney hab to sew, and get um libbin;
and she hab berry leetle fingers, and
can't do so much work wid 'em, and sometimes
dey 'mazin hard run for eatin.'

`They are? well, that is bad—especially
for an old captain and his lovely daughter.—
Is he a sea captain?'

`He hab been, onct, massa—but you see
five years ago, he shipwreck him brig, and
she dead loss, and he brake him leg wid a
spar fallin' on it, tryin' to save him life.'

`That was a pity. How did he save it
with a broken leg?' asked the young man,
who had gradually released his hold upon the
honest black, and listened to him with interest—for
the idea of an old seaman and his
lovely daughter suffering together in poverty,
seemed to move him.

`I take him on my back, and lash him on
um spar, and swim ashore wid him.'

`That was a noble act! So you were in
the brig then?'

`I was de steward, massa.'

`And the captain is now in want, you say,
and living here?' observed the young man,
lowering his voice, as he looked up at the
house in front of which they stood.

`Yes, inassa,' answered the negro, who
seemed pleased to find the person who had so
hastily seized him, was taking a friendly interest
in his old captain's condition; you see
de owners blamed him, coz de brig wan't insured,
and de owner ob cargo blame him, and
say he lost de brig coz as how he was careless—and
nobody'd give him 'nother vessel—
and dis broke him heart was dan him leg was
broke, and so he kept frettin and frettin',
and him leg nebber get well wid de feber he
puts it in. So him wife die, and dat make
him feel wusser, and den him money go, and
him furniture and ebbery ting; and nobody
help him, and he too proud to tell how poor
he be, and so dey libes here out ob de world,
like, and Missy Jenney sew all de time, night
and day, makin' shirts; and massa Cap'n he
worry 'coz she hab to sew, and dat make him
wus. But, massa, he nebber lose him brig
from carelessness! He see de Boston light,
and steer strait on him course; and all a
once blows up um fog, and comes 'tween him
and de light. But he tell by de compass
whar it be, and steer on in de fog—and jus
as he git fur nuff to turn in de channel, and
gib de order, de brig struck, and de masts
went by de board! It no fault ob de Cap'n,
and some merchants and Cap'ns say so—but
odders said it was; and massa nebber got
ober it.'

`And what are you coming here to see
them for at such a late hour, and in such a
storm?'

`It don't blow hard as it did, massa, and
you see when I heard de wind whistle, and
de rain beat on my shanty, I tinks ob massa
Capn'n and Miss Jenney down here in deir
old house, on de end ob de wharf, and tinks
I if de wind blow wusser dey may get blowed
down, 'coz I knowed how rickety de house
is, and I knowed if de storm damage it, massa
Cap'n couldn't save himself wid nobody
but Miss Jenney, and so I get's out o' bed
and comes down to see dat all am right.'

`You are an honest black fellow. What
is your name?'

`Cæsar, massa.'

`What are you employed about, now?'

`Noting tiklar, massa—I mean to get a
ship soon as I can.'

`Then you are your own man?'

`Independum as a post, massa. May I ax
if you be a Cap'n or Ossifer?'

`I—that is—yes, yes!' replied the seaman,
with something like hesitation. `Are
you willing to sail with me?'

`Yes, massa, if you give good wages. I
must charge high, 'coz, you see, I've made

up my mind to give three quarters of my
months' pay to de old Cap'n, and to make a
present ob de month's advance to Missy Jenney,
to buy her new dress and bonnet; for
half de nigger gals in Bosting dress finer dan
she does. Ebbery dime she get hab to go for
bread an' butter. Gorry, how it lighten, den!'

`The flash showed me your face, and I see
it is a very honest one. Now, Cæsar, come
to me at eight in the morning, at the Two
Anchors, in Snow Lane.'

`I know de place, massa.'

`I'll then ship you and pay you a month's
advance—twenty-four dollars!'

`Dat berry good wages, massa! Cæsar
sure be dere. I berry lucky nigger dis
night! I make Miss Jenney happy, to morrow,
sure!'

`Your generous heart, my man, has made
me your friend,' said the young seaman, in a
tone of voice that feeling made impressive,
while it deepened its naturally mellow cadences.
`I hope you will not say to the captain
or his daughter that you have seen and
spoken with me about him.'

`Bress you, massa, how can I tell him
when I don't know who you is?'

`You need not say you have seen any one.
Come to me at eight o'clock.'

`I won't miss it, sure, massa,' answered
the black, who seemed rejoiced that he had
a prospect of shipping,—more, that he could
give his advance to Jennette, than from any
selfish desire of gain. `All dark inside now,
and de house safe—and as de wind is gwine
down berry fast, I beliebe I won't 'sturb 'em
to-night,' added Cæsar, as he surveyed the
outside of the building, from which neither
sound nor light proceeded. `It hab been
heavy storm, massa?'

`Yes, and yet blows strong, Look! you
are a sailor and should know how to make
out objects on the water. Tell me what that
is in range of this post?'

Cæsar stooped, and took sight over the low
post, in a direction down the harbor, and,
after a moment's observation, while the sea
man was also watching the object with a
searching vision, he stood upright, and said
emphatically,

`It a shallop scuddin', massa, sure! But
she carry as much white foam on her bow,
as white sail on her mast,'

`I am not mistaken, then. It is the trady
craft I have been looking for,' murmured the
young man, `I knew that Ogilvie having
once said so, would run in storm or no
storm, so long as he could keep the nose of
his little shallop above water.'

`She comes on wid such a big bone in her
teef as I nebber see, massa!' exclaimed Cesar,
who was steadily watching her. `Debbel!
she half mile off, and I hear her bows roar here,
sure, massa!' he added with astonishment.

`I dare say. The wind before which she
flies brings the noise of her progress through
the water. It was this sound I heard before
I saw har.'

The object which attracted their joint attention,
was now plainly to be seen, even by
a ladsman's eye, to be a schooner-rigged vessel,
of small size, scudding with close reefed
fore and mainsails, extended on either side,
wing and wing, and steering strait for the
head of the pier. The South East gale before
which she flew, drove her with such
speed that she carried before her cut-water,
high in the air, a column of spray, looking
like a third sail in the indistinetness of night.
The sound of her ploughing advance reached
the pier like the constant roar of a water-fall.
The clouds had been sometime before breaking,
and the sky above was light, and stars
sparkled in the depths of space, and rendered
even vessels at anchor a mile distant, sufficiently
distinct in outline for their rig to be
made out. The wind, however, still blew
fresh; and before it, as if chased in from the
sea in terror, or as if she had come in express
with a message of war, the little shallop
flew! Each moment she came nigher
and nigher the pier, and the interest of the
young man in her approach increased with
her nearer advance.

`She hab lower her main sail and is luffin'
up, massa,' said the black. `I wonder what
kind ob pilot she hab, to run in dis a way in
de night?'

`There is a sailor at her helm, you may be
assured,' answered the seaman. `You are
right—she has luffed, and is lessening her
head-way. She will come to off the pier, unless—'

Here he interrupted himself, and taking
from beneath his sea-coat, he suddenly opened,
a lantern, and turned it in the direction
of the shallop. After holding it thus a few
seconds, he closed the slide and replaced it
beneath his coat. A light was instantly displayed
on board the shallop in answer, and,
after shining a moment, was withdrawn. The
next minute the craft kept away a little, and
steered direct for the pier.

Cæsar noticed these proceeding swith surprise,
and shaking his head, he murmured to
himself—

`I better ax dis massa what he doin' down
here to-night wid dese fixin's, dan he ax me!
I don't percisely like de looks ob dese here
goin's on.'

`Cæsar!' called the young man, as the
shallop was coming down so as to glide past
the head of tho pier nigh enough for a person
to spring on board.

`What say, massa?'

`Stand by and jump on board with me!”

`No, no, massa! I don't know de name ob
dat craft; 'sides, I nebber ships till I signs
de papers!'—and Cæsar began to retrongrade,
step by step, from the head of the wharf.

At this instant, the shallop swept past, and
the young seaman leaped upon her deck. As
she gracefully rounded the pier, and tacked
to stand off, he called to Cæsar, who was fast
running away—

`At eight o'clock—the Two Anchors!'

`Yes. massa,' answered Cæsar, but added
to himself, `if I goes, I don't ship till I
knows what kind o' sarvice I'm to sail in.—
I doesn't like dis here business I've seen tonight;
and if dis is a specimen, Cæsar'll make
himself scarce. That ar' shallop 's a smuggler,
I'm most sartain. Yet, de gemman
seem like a berry nice man, and he feel berry
great deal when I tell him 'bout massa
Can'n!'

Here Cæsar stopped to watch the shallop,
which had no sooner taken the person on
board, than it hoisted its mainsail, and stood
out again; but instead of returning the way
it came in, it laid its course close-hauled to
the wind, and went dancing over the white
caps of the waves, in the direction of the
islands. Cæsar watched it till it was out of
sight, and then turned away, soliloquizing
upon the probable object which led her to
come in one such a wild night, merely to take
on board the stranger, and then steer again
across the harbor.

`I doesn't like its look,' he said, with a
wise shake of his woolly head. `It don't look
ship-shape and above board. Mischief likes
darkness and slide lanters, and such nights as
dis. But I'll go to de Two Anchor as I
promise—but I doesn't expect to see dat
gemman dere, no how. Pr'aps he means to
come back afore mornin'; I shouldn't wonder.
Twenty-four dollars is good wages,
dese days, when dere is so many to ship, and
sich few vessels goin' to sea. I'd do any
ting for Miss Jenney but turn smuggler, as I
fraid dis gemman be! Well, de mornin'
show. I glad and tankful I find massa Cap'n
and de house safe. I sure, almost, it blow
down—but it am de truf, as massa said, dat
dey did build de old housen stronger den,
dan dey does de new ones ob dese 'generate
days!'

With this criticism upon modern architecture,
Cæsar took his way up the wharf, and
traversing the lane which led to it, he entered
a narrow cross-street, which at length
brought him to an obscure court, crowded
with ten foot tenements. At one of them he
stopped, and, after knocking twice, was let
in by the dark-complexioned landlady at
whose hostel he was, for the time being,
while on shore, taking up his abode.