I owe you an
explanation of my unexpected appearance, and perhaps, also, of my
extraordinary attire."
"I can anticipate everything," cried Barnstable; "you heard that we were
on the coast, and have flown to redeem the promises you made me in
America. But I ask no more; the chaplain of the frigate—"
"May preach as usual, and to as little purpose," interrupted the
disguised female; "but no nuptial benediction shall be pronounced over
me, until I have effected the object of this hazardous experiment. You
are not usually selfish, Barnstable; would you have me forgetful of the
happiness of others?"
"Of whom do you speak?"
"My poor, my devoted cousin. I heard that two vessels answering the
description of the frigate and the Ariel were seen hovering on the
coast, and I determined at once to have a communication with you. I have
followed your movements for a week, in this dress, but have been
unsuccessful till now. To-day I observed you to approach nearer to the
shore than usual, and happily, by being adventurous, I have been
successful."
"Ay, God knows we are near enough to the land! But does Captain Munson
know of your wish to get on board his ship?"
"Certainly not—none know of it but yourself. I thought that if Griffith
and you could learn our situation, you might be tempted to hazard a
little to redeem us from our thraldom. In this paper I have prepared
such an account as will, I trust, excite all your chivalry, and by which
you may govern your movements."
"Our movements!" interrupted Barnstable. "You will pilot us in person."
"Then there's two of them!" said a hoarse voice near them.
The alarmed female shrieked as she recovered her feet, but she still
adhered, with instinctive dependence, to the side of her lover.
Barnstable, who recognized the tones of his cockswain, bent an angry
brow on the sober visage that was peering at them above the hedge, and
demanded the meaning of the interruption.
"Seeing you were hull down, sir, and not knowing but the chase might
lead you ashore, Mr. Merry thought it best to have a lookout kept. I
told him that you were overhauling the mail-bags of the messenger for
the news, but as he was an officer, sir, and I nothing but a common
hand, I did as he ordered."
"Return, sir, where I commanded you to remain," said Barnstable, "and
desire Mr. Merry to wait my pleasure."
The cockswain gave the usual reply of an obedient seaman; but before he
left the hedge, he stretched out one of his brawny arms towards the
ocean, and said, in tones of solemnity suited to his apprehensions and
character:
"I showed you how to knot a reef-point, and pass a gasket, Captain
Barnstable, nor do I believe you could even take two half-hitches when
you first came aboard of the Spalmacitty. These be things that a man is
soon expart in, but it takes the time of his nat'ral life to larn to
know the weather. There be streaked wind-galls in the offing, that speak
as plainly to all that see them, and know God's language in the clouds,
as ever you spoke through a trumpet, to shorten sail; besides, sir,
don't you hear the sea moaning as if it knew the hour was at hand when
it was to wake up from its sleep!"
"Ay, Tom," returned his officer, walking to the edge of the cliffs, and
throwing a seaman's glance at the gloomy ocean, "'tis a threatening
night indeed; but this pilot must be had—and—"
"Is that the man?" interrupted the cockswain, pointing toward a man who
was standing not far from them, an attentive observer of their
proceedings, the same time that he was narrowly watched himself by the
young midshipman. "God send that he knows his trade well, for the bottom
of a ship will need eyes to find its road out of this wild anchorage."
"That must indeed be the man!" exclaimed Barnstable, at once recalled to
his duty. He then held a short dialogue with his female companion, whom
he left concealed by the hedge, and proceeded to address the stranger.
When near enough to be heard, the commander of the schooner demanded:
"What water have you in this bay?"
The stranger, who seemed to expect this question, answered without the
least hesitation:
"Enough to take all out in safety, who have entered with confidence."
"You are the man I seek," cried Barnstable; "are you ready to go off?"
"Both ready and willing," returned the pilot, "and there is need of
haste. I would give the best hundred guineas that ever were coined for
two hours more use of that sun which has left us, or for even the time
of this fading twilight."
"Think you our situation so bad?" said the lieutenant. "Follow this
gentleman to the boat then; I will join you by the time you can descend
the cliffs. I believe I can prevail on another hand to go off with us."
"Time is more precious now than any number of hands," said the pilot,
throwing a glance of impatience from under his lowering brows, "and the
consequences of delay must be visited on those who occasion it."
"And, sir, I will meet the consequences with those who have a right to
inquire into my conduct," said Barnstable, haughtily.
With this warning and retort they separated; the young officer retracing
his steps impatiently toward his mistress, muttering his indignation in
suppressed execrations, and the pilot, drawing the leathern belt of his
pea-jacket mechanically around his body, as he followed the midshipman
and cockswain to their boat, in moody silence.
Barnstable found the disguised female who had announced herself as
Katherine Plowden, awaiting his return, with intense anxiety depicted on
every feature of her intelligent countenance. As he felt all the
responsibility of his situation, notwithstanding his cool reply to the
pilot, the young man hastily drew an arm of the apparent boy, forgetful
of her disguise, through his own, and led her forward.
"Come, Katherine," he said, "the time urges to be prompt."
"What pressing necessity is there for immediate departure?" she
inquired, checking his movements by withdrawing herself from his side.
"You heard the ominous prognostic of my cockswain on the weather, and I
am forced to add my own testimony to his opinion. 'Tis a crazy night
that threatens us, though I cannot repent of coming into the bay, since
it has led to this interview."
"God forbid that we should either of us have cause to repent of it,"
said Katherine, the paleness of anxiety chasing away the rich bloom that
had mantled the animated face of the brunette. "But you have the paper—
follow its directions, and come to our rescue; you will find us willing
captives, if Griffith and yourself are our conquerors."
"What mean you, Katherine!" exclaimed her lover; "you at least are now
in safety—'twould be madness to tempt your fate again. My vessel can
and shall protect you, until your cousin is redeemed; and then,
remember, I have a claim on you for life."
"And how would you dispose of me in the interval?" said the young
maiden, retreating slowly from his advances.
"In the Ariel—by heaven, you shall be her commander; I will bear that
rank only in name."
"I thank you, thank you, Barnstable, but distrust my abilities to fill
such a station," she said, laughing, though the color that again crossed
her youthful features was like the glow of a summer's sunset, and even
her mirthful eyes seemed to reflect their tints. "Do not mistake me,
saucy one. If I have done more than my sex will warrant, remember it was
through a holy motive, and if I have more than a woman's enterprise, it
must be—"
"To lift you above the weakness of your sex," he cried, "and to enable
you to show your noble confidence in me."
"To fit me for, and to keep me worthy of being one day your wife." As
she uttered these words she turned and disappeared, with a rapidity that
eluded his attempts to detain her, behind an angle of the hedge, that
was near them. For a moment, Barnstable remained motionless, through
surprise, and when he sprang forward in pursuit, he was able only to
catch a glimpse of her light form, in the gloom of the evening, as she
again vanished in a little thicket at some distance.
Barnstable was about to pursue, when the air lighted with a sudden
flash, and the bellowing report of a cannon rolled along the cliffs, and
was echoed among the hills far inland.
"Ay, grumble away, old dotard!" the disappointed young sailor muttered
to himself, while he reluctantly obeyed the signal; "you are in as great
a hurry to get out of your danger as you were to run into it."
The quick reports of three muskets from the barge beneath where he stood
urged him to quicken his pace, and as he threw himself carelessly down
the rugged and dangerous passes of the cliffs, his experienced eye
beheld the well-known lights displayed from the frigate, which commanded
"the recall of all her boats."
Chapter III
*
In such a time as this it is not meet
That every nice offence should bear its comment.
Shakespeare
The cliffs threw their dark shadows wide on the waters, and the gloom
of the evening had so far advanced as to conceal the discontent that
brooded over the ordinarily open brow of Barnstable as he sprang from
the rocks into the boat, and took his seat by the side of the silent
pilot. "Shove off," cried the lieutenant, in tones that his men knew
must be obeyed. "A seaman's curse light on the folly that exposes planks
and lives to such navigation; and all to burn some old timberman, or
catch a Norway trader asleep! give way, men, give way!"
Notwithstanding the heavy and dangerous surf that was beginning to
tumble in upon the rocks in an alarming manner, the startled seamen
succeeded in urging their light boat over the waves, and in a few
seconds were without the point where danger was most to be apprehended.
Barnstable had seemingly disregarded the breakers as they passed, but
sat sternly eyeing the foam that rolled by them in successive surges,
until the boat rose regularly on the long seas, when he turned his looks
around the bay in quest of the barge.
"Ay, Griffith has tired of rocking in his pillowed cradle," he muttered,
"and will give us a pull to the frigate, when we ought to be getting the
schooner out of this hard-featured landscape. This is just such a place
as one of your sighing lovers would doat on; a little land, a little
water, and a good deal of rock. Damme, long Tom, but I am more than half
of your mind, that an island now and then is all the terra firma that a
seaman needs."
"It's reason and philosophy, sir," returned the sedate cockswain; "and
what land there is, should always be a soft mud, or a sandy ooze, in
order that an anchor might hold, and to make soundings sartin.
1 comment