33. CHAPTER XXXIII.
PROMOTION.
Bim never lost sight of the flying Italian until the latter
plunged into the river and dived beneath the surface. The
Sergeant sprang into a light skiff and awaited the rising of
his victim.
“By George!” said he, after sitting some time in silence,
“I believe he's drowned himself. No mortal man could
hold his breath this long, unless he was first cousin to a
maremaid. And this fellow may be a pollywog—or at
most a man muskrat. Hello! what's that!” said he, leaping
up and rubbing his back. Popoli had risen softly under
the stern of the boat, with the design of despatching the
Sergeant with the same dagger used against the President.
But he proved too weak to execute his purpose. “You
infernal water-mosquito!” cried Bim, seizing the wrist of
Popoli as he attempted to strike a second blow, “or gally-nipper,
or craw-fish! You're done biting now! I don't
believe you brought blood, but you are a double murderer,
although you've killed nobody, and—”
“Sergeant,” said Popoli, “is President Randolph not
dead?”
“Can a flea-bite kill? If not, how could such a contemptible
toad as you kill such an exalted and glorious
genius as President Randolph? Why, the point of your
dagger didn't go through the gold case of his watch!”
“I thought so,” said the Italian, with a low malediction.
“But it broke the point off, and that's the reason I
could not—”
“Stick me, I suppose you meant to say,” added Bim;
and at the same time lifting Popoli, like a fish, into the
boat, and forcing him to lie down on his back. “Popoli,”
he continued, “if you had killed the President, or even bled
him pretty freely, do you suppose I'd be merciful enough to
be indulging you in this way? No, indeed! I could not
have restrained my hand. Now, listen to me and bear witness
all the stars: I do hereby solemnly swear that I will
not kill this Mr. Signor Popoli, this night, unless he attempts
again to kill me, tries to escape, or I am ordered to
do so by a superior officer.”
“Then what do you intend to do with me, Sergeant?”
asked the culprit.
“I intend to introduce you to the society of your loving
friend, Cardini.”
“Cardini? Oh, Sergeant, he's the one I wish to see!
Take me to him, and you'll bind me to you for life! Give
me the name and location of any enemy, and he will cease
to live!”
“Thank you, Popoli,—but I'd prefer to do my own
killing.”
“But where is he?”
“He's—I don't know that I'm under obligations to
tell you—thought I should have done so, no doubt, if you
hadn't been so eager to find it out.”
“But, Sergeant, is he alive?”
“Oh, yes, I suppose so—at least he was quite well when I
saw him last, and I haven't heard of his being taken ill
since.”
“Sergeant! if you'll only take me to him, I'll give
you—”
“Silence, fool! or I'll forget my oath, perhaps. I'm out
of money again, it is true; but I know where more is to be
had. I prefer glory to the filthy lucre; and now I'm in a
fair way of being promoted. By to-morrow, if President
Randolph and I both live, I think I'll be a live captain in
the Blue Caps, the most magnificent body of men in these
United States—or, perhaps, just about this hour, I should
say, disunited States.”
Bim, hearing his name called, rowed to the shore, where
he was met by General Carleton, who announced that the
President had promoted him to the rank of Captain, in consideration
of his gallant conduct on divers recent occasions,
but especially for his meritorious service in the capture of
Lord Slysir. The General further stated that the President
desired Captain Bim to proceed with four rowers, having
his Lordship in custody, to the flag-ship of Commodore
Stout.
“General,” said Bim, “is there to be no more fighting?”
“Quite enough, I apprehend, Captain,” said Carleton.
“But the probability is that the most desperate conflict will
be between the fleets.”
“Then I'm in, that is, General, if I may be allowed to
fight in a ship!”
“You may fight anywhere for your country and your
President.”
Captain Bim, having first conducted Lord Slysir into the
boat which was to convey him to the ship, next ordered the
men, for he now appreciated the importance attached to a
commissioned officer, to transfer Popoli to the same boat.
This accomplished, the crew rowed briskly away from the
shore, whilst Bim voluntarily performed the lighter duty
of helmsman.
“Bim!” said his Lordship, as they glided out into the
current.
“Captain Bim, at your Lordship's service, sir,” said the
Captain.
“You have served me a cruel turn—you have done my
business, sir, I fear. I shall not recover from my bruises
for a month, if I get over them at all!”
“My Lord, I was doing a little business of my own, at
the same time, and you answered the purpose exactly. It
was that feat which brought promotion.”
“Well, I suppose I ought to congratulate you; but I do
so in great agony of body. However, you have done a good
service for your employers. In this game they are playing,
they have obtained by your blundering luck a very high
trump card.”
“Sir—your Lordship—that reminds me of the game I
had last night. I had two bullets and a bragger, when a
bomb scattered the cards and the money, and all the men
but myself, to the d—l. Wasn't that an unlucky
blnnder?”
“I desire none of your familiarity, sir,” said his Lordship.
“Then don't speak to me, sir!” said Bim, assuming an
erect posture.
“I hope your Lordship,” said Popoli, lying in the bottom
of the boat, “will report my conduct to the General.”
“Who are you?” demanded his lordship.
“I am Popoli.”
“As — a rascal as ever went unhung!” said Bim.
“Ah, the assassin!” said Slysir. “Yes, I will report
your conduct, and if I have any influence, you shall swing
on the nearest tree. To attack the President in such a
ruffianly manner, and in my presence!”
“Oh, he has no manners, sir,” said Bim.
“Captain Bim,” resumed his Lordship, “I agree with you
in abhorrence of the dastardly crime of assassination, and
particularly when perpetrated on persons of rank and distinction.”
“The rascal tried his hand on me,” said Bim.
“You! Nonsense. But here we are under the ship. I
hope they can contrive some means of hoisting me, for I
cannot climb up the ladder. Ah, Commodore,” he continued,
seeing that officer above, “I'm not a guest this
time.”
“No, sir,” said Bim; “he's a prisoner of war.”
“Commodore,” continued Slysir, “is there not some way
of getting up besides ascending these steep steps?”
“Yes, my Lord,” said the Commodore. “I will have
a rope thrown over, which you can pass under your arms,
and be lifted up.” This was done.
