The Pilot by J. Fenimore CooperA Tale of the Sea (page 4)

_Twelfth Night._

The countenance of Captain Borroughcliffe, when the sentinel admitted him to the apartment he had selected, was in that state of doubtful illumination, when looks of peculiar cunning blend so nicely with the stare of vacancy, that the human face is rendered not unlike an April day, now smiling and inviting, and at the next moment clouded and dreary. It was quite apparent that the soldier had an object for his unexpected visit, by the importance of his air and the solemnity of the manner with which he entered on the business. He waved his hand for the sentinel to retire, with lofty dignity, and continued balancing his body, during the closing of the door, and while a sound continued audible to his confused faculties, with his eyes fixed in the direction of the noise, with that certain sort of wise look that in many men supplies the place of something better. When the captain felt himself secure from interruption, he moved round with quick military precision, in order to face the man of whom he was in quest. Griffith had been sleeping, though uneasily and with watchfulness; and the Pilot had been calmly awaiting the visit which it seemed he had anticipated; but their associate, who was no other than Captain Manual, of the marines, was discovered in a very different condition from either. Though the weather was cool and the night tempestuous, he had thrown aside his pea-jacket, with most of his disguise, and was sitting ruefully on his blanket, wiping, with one hand, the large drops of sweat from his forehead, and occasionally grasping his throat with the other, with a kind of convulsed mechanical movement. He stared wildly at his visitor, though his entrance produced no other alteration in these pursuits than a more diligent application of his handkerchief and a more frequent grasping of his naked neck, as if he were willing to ascertain, by actual experiment, what degree of pressure the part was able to sustain, without exceeding a given quantity of inconvenience.

“Comrade, I greet ye!” said Borroughcliffe, staggering to the side of his prisoner, where he seated himself with an entire absence of ceremony: “Comrade, I greet ye! Is the kingdom in danger, that gentlemen traverse the island in the uniform of the regiment of incognitus, incognitii, ‘torum–damme, how I forget my Latin! Say, my fine fellow, are you one of these ‘torums?”

Manual breathed a little hard, which, considering the manner he had been using his throat, was a thing to be expected; but, swallowing his apprehensions, he answered with more spirit than his situation rendered prudent or the occasion demanded.

“Say what you will of me, and treat me as you please, I defy any man to call me Tory with truth.”

“You are no ‘torum! Well, then, the war-office has got up a new dress! Your regiment must have earned their facings in storming some water battery, or perhaps it has done duty as marines. Am I right?”

“I’ll not deny it,” said Manual, more stoutly; “I have served as a marine for two years, though taken from the line of—-“

“The army,” said Borroughcliffe, interrupting a most damning confession of which “state line” the other had belonged to. “I kept a dog-watch, myself, once, on board the fleet of my Lord Howe; but it is a service that I do not envy any man. Our afternoon parades were dreadfully unsteady, for it’s a time, you know, when a man wants solid ground to stand on. However, I purchased my company with some prize-money that fell in my way, and I always remember the marine service with gratitude. But this is dry work. I have put a bottle of sparkling Madeira in my pocket, with a couple of glasses, which we will discuss while we talk over more important matters. Thrust your hand into my right pocket; I have been used to dress to the front so long, that it comes mighty awkward to me to make this backward motion, as if it were into a cartridge-box.”

Manual, who had been at a loss how to construe the manner of the other, perceived at once a good deal of plain English in this request, and he dislodged one of Colonel Howard’s dusty bottles, with a dexterity that denoted the earnestness of his purpose. Borroughcliffe had made a suitable provision of glasses; and extracting the cork in a certain scientific manner, he tendered to his companion a bumper of the liquor, before another syllable was uttered by either of the expectants. The gentlemen concluded their draughts with a couple of smacks, that sounded not unlike the pistols of two practised duellists, though certainly a much less alarming noise, when the entertainer renewed the discourse.

“I like one of your musty-looking bottles, that is covered with dust and cobwebs, with a good southern tan on it,” he said. “Such liquor does not abide in the stomach, but it gets into the heart at once, and becomes blood in the beating of a pulse. But how soon I knew you! That sort of knowledge is the freemasonry of our craft. I knew you to be the man you are, the moment I laid eyes on you in what we call our guard-room; but I thought I would humor the old soldier who lives here, by letting him have the formula of an examination, as a sort of deference to his age and former rank. But I knew you the instant I saw you. I have seen you before!”

The theory of Borroughcliffe, in relation to the incorporation of wine with the blood, might have been true in the case of the marine, whose whole frame appeared to undergo a kind of magical change by the experiment of drinking, which, the reader will understand, was diligently persevered in while a drop remained in the bottle. The perspiration no longer rolled from his brow, neither did his throat manifest that uneasiness which had rendered such constant external applications necessary; but he settled down into an air of cool but curious interest, which, in some measure, was the necessary concomitant of his situation.

“We may have met before, as I have been much in service, and yet I know not where you could have seen me,” said Manual. “Were you ever a prisoner of war?”

“Hum! not exactly such an unfortunate devil; but a sort of conventional non-combatant. I shared the hardships, the glory, the equivocal victories (where we killed and drove countless numbers of rebels–who were not), and, woe is me! the capitulation of Burgoyne. But let that pass-which was more than the Yankees would allow us to do. You know not where I could have seen you? I have seen you on parade, in the field, in battle and out of battle, in camp, in barracks; in short, everywhere but in a drawing-room. No, no; I have never seen you before this night in a drawing-room!”

Manual stared in a good deal of wonder and some uneasiness at these confident assertions, which promised to put his life in no little jeopardy; and it is to be supposed that the peculiar sensation about the throat was revived, as he made a heavy draught, before he said:

“You will swear to this–Can you call me by name?”

“I will swear to it in any court in Christendom,” said the dogmatical soldier; “and your name is–is–Fugleman!”

“If it is, I’ll be damn’d!” exclaimed the other, with exulting precipitation.

“Swear not!” said Borroughcliffe, with a solemn air; “for what mattereth an empty name! Call thyself by what appellation thou wilt, I know thee. Soldier is written on thy martial front; thy knee bendeth not; nay, I even doubt if the rebellious member bow in prayer—-“

“Come, sir,” interrupted Manual, a little sternly; “no more of this trifling, but declare your will at once. Rebellious member, indeed! These fellows will call the skies of America rebellious heavens shortly!”

“I like thy spirit, lad,” returned the undisturbed Borroughcliffe; “it sits as gracefully on a soldier as his sash and gorget; but it is lost on an old campaigner. I marvel, however, that thou takest such umbrage at my slight attack on thy orthodoxy. I fear the fortress must be weak, where the outworks are defended with such a waste of unnecessary courage!”

“I know not why or wherefore you have paid me this visit, Captain Borroughcliffe,” said Manual, with a laudable discretion, which prompted him to reconnoitre the other’s views a little, before he laid himself more open; “if captain be your rank, and Borroughcliffe be your name. But this I do know, that if it be only to mock me in my present situation, it is neither soldier like nor manly; and it is what, in other circumstances, might be attended by some hazard.”

“Hum!” said the other, with his immovable coolness; “I see you set the wine down as nothing, though the king drinks not as good; for the plain reason that the sun of England cannot find its way through the walls of Windsor Castle as easily as the sun of Carolina can warm a garret covered with cedar shingles. But I like your spirit more and more. So draw yourself up in battle array, and let us have another charge at this black bottle, when I shall lay before your military eyes a plan of the whole campaign.”

Manual first bestowed an inquiring glance on his companion; when, discovering no other expression than foolish cunning, which was fast yielding before the encroaching footsteps of stupid inebriety, he quietly placed himself in the desired position. The wine was drunk, when Borroughcliffe proceeded to open his communications more unreservedly.

“You are a soldier, and I am a soldier. That you are a soldier, my orderly could tell; for the dog has both seen a campaign, and smelt villanous saltpetre, when compounded according to a wicked invention; but it required the officer to detect the officer. Privates do not wear such linen as this, which seemeth to me an unreasonably cool attire for the season; nor velvet stocks, with silver buckles; nor is there often the odorous flavor of sweet-scented pomatum to be discovered around their greasy locks. In short, thou art both soldier and officer.”

“I confess it,” said Manual; “I hold the rank of captain, and shall expect the treatment of one.”

“I think I have furnished you with wine fit for a general,” returned Borroughcliffe; “but have your own way. Now, it would be apparent to men, whose faculties had not been rendered clear by such cordials as this dwelling aboundeth with, that when you officers journey through the island, clad in the uniform incognitorum, which in your case means the marine corps, that something is in the wind of more than usual moment. Soldiers owe their allegiance to their prince, and next to him to war, women, and wine. Of war, there is none in the realm; of women, plenty; but wine, I regret to say, that is, good wine, grows both scarce and dear. Do I speak to the purpose, comrade?”

“Proceed,” said Manual, whose eyes were not less attentive than his ears, in a hope to discover whether his true character were understood.

“En avant! in plain English, forward march! Well, then, the difficulty lies between women and wine; which, when the former are pretty, and the latter rich, is a very agreeable sort of an alternative. That it is not wine of which you are in quest, I must believe, my comrade captain, or you would not go on the adventure in such shabby attire. You will excuse me, but who would think of putting anything better than their Port before a man in a pair of tarred trousers? No! no! Hollands, green-and- yellow Hollands, is a potation good enough to set before one of the present bearing.”

“And yet I have met with him who has treated me to the choicest of the south-side Madeira!”

“Know you the very side from which the precious fluid comes! That looks more in favor of the wine. But, after all, woman, dear capricious woman, who one moment fancies she sees a hero in regimentals, and the next a saint in a cassock; and who always sees something admirable in a suitor, whether he be clad in tow or velvet–woman is at the bottom of this mysterious masquerading. Am I right, comrade!”

By this time Manual had discovered that he was safe, and he returned to the conversation with a revival of all his ready wits, which had been strangely paralyzed by his previous disorder in the region of the throat. First bestowing a wicked wink on his companion, and a look that would have outdone the wisest aspect of Solomon, he replied;

“Ah! woman has much to answer for!”

“I knew it,” exclaimed Borroughcliffe; “and this confession only confirms me in the good opinion I have always entertained of myself. If his majesty has any particular wish to close this American business, let him have a certain convention burnt, and a nameless person promoted, and we shall see! But, answer as you love truth; is it a business of holy matrimony, or a mere dalliance with the sweets of Cupid?”

“Of honest wedlock,” said Manual, with an air as serious as if Hymen already held him in his fetters.

“‘Tis honest! Is there money?”

“Is there money?” repeated Manual, with a sort of contemptuous echo. “Would a soldier part with his liberty, but with his life, unless the chains were made of gold?”

“That’s the true military doctrine!” cried the other; “faith, you have some discretion in your amphibious corps, I find! But why this disguise? are the ‘seniors grave,’ as well as ‘potent and reverend?’ Why this disguise, I again ask?”

“Why this disguise!” repeated Manual, coolly: “Is there any such thing as love in your regiment without disguise? With us, it is a regular symptom of the disease.”

“A most just and discreet description of the passion, my amphibious comrade!” said the English officer; “and yet the symptoms in your case are attended by some very malignant tokens. Does your mistress love tar?”

“No; but she loveth me; and, of course, whatever attire I choose to appear in.”

“Still discreet and sagacious! and yet only a most palpable feint to avoid my direct attack. You have heard of such a place as Gretna Green, a little to the north of this, I dare say, my aquatic comrade. Am I right?”

“Gretna Green!” said Manual, a little embarrassed by his ignorance; “some parade-ground, I suppose?”

“Ay, for those who suffer under the fire of Master Cupid. A parade- ground! well, there is some artful simplicity in that! But all will not do with an old campaigner. It is a difficult thing to impose on an old soldier, my water-battery. Now listen and answer; and you shall see what it is to possess a discernment–therefore deny nothing. You are in love?”

“I deny nothing,” said Manual, comprehending at once that this was his safest course.

“Your mistress is willing, and the money is ready, but the old people say, halt!”

“I am still mute!”

“Tis prudent. You say march–Gretna Green is the object; and your flight is to be by water!”

“Unless I can make my escape by water, I shall never make it,” said Manual, with another sympathetic movement with his hand to his throat.

“Keep mute; you need tell me nothing. I can see into a mystery that is as deep as a well, to-night. Your companions are hirelings; perhaps your shipmates; or men to pilot you on this expedition!”

“One is my shipmate, and the other is our pilot,” said Manual, with more truth than usual.

“You are well provided. One thing more, and I shall become mute in my turn. Does she whom you seek lie in this house?”

“She does not; she lies but a short distance from this place; and I should be a happy fellow could I but once more put foot—-“

“Eyes on her. Now listen, and you shall have your wish. You possess the ability to march yet, which, considering the lateness of the hour, is no trifling privilege; open that window–is it possible to descend from it?”

Manual eagerly complied, but he turned from the place in disappointment.

“It would be certain death to attempt the leap. The devil only could escape from it.”

“So I should think,” returned Borroughcliffe, dryly. “You must be content to pass for that respectable gentleman for the rest of your days, in St. Ruth’s Abbey. For through that identical hole must you wing your flight on the pinions of love.”

“But how! The thing is impossible.”

“In imagination only. There is some stir, a good deal of foolish apprehension, and a great excess of idle curiosity, among certain of the tenants of this house, on your account. They fear the rebels, who, we all know, have not soldiers enough to do their work neatly at home, and who, of course, would never think of sending any here. You wish to be snug–I wish to serve a brother in distress. Through that window you must be supposed to fly–no matter how; while by following me you can pass the sentinel, and retire peaceably, like any other mortal, on your own two stout legs.”

This was a result that exceeded all that Manual had anticipated from their amicable but droll dialogue; and the hint was hardly given, before he threw on the garments that agitation had before rendered such encumbrances; and in less time than we have taken to relate it, the marine was completely equipped for his departure. In the mean time, Captain Borroughcliffe raised himself to an extremely erect posture, which he maintained with the inflexibility of a rigid martinet. When he found himself established on his feet, the soldier intimated to his prisoner that he was ready to proceed. The door was instantly opened by Manual, and together they entered the gallery.

“Who comes there?” cried the sentinel, with a vigilance and vigor that he intended should compensate for his previous neglect of duty.

“Walk straight, that he may see you,” said Borroughcliffe, with much philosophy.

“Who goes there?” repeated the sentinel, throwing his musket to a poise, with a rattling sound that echoed along the naked walls.

“Walk crooked,” added Borroughcliffe, “that if he fire he may miss.”

“We shall be shot at, with this folly,” muttered Manual.

“We are friends, and your officer is one of us.”

“Stand, friends–advance, officer, and give the counter-sign,” cried the sentinel.

“That is much easier said than done,” returned his captain; “forward, Mr. Amphibious, you can walk like a postman–move to the front, and proclaim the magical word, ‘loyalty;’ ’tis a standing countersign, ready furnished to my hands by mine hosts the colonel; your road is then clear before you–but hark—-“

Manual made an eager step forward, when, recollecting himself, he turned, and added: “My assistants, the seamen! I can do nothing without them.”

“Lo! the keys are in the doors, ready for my admission,” said the Englishman; “turn them, and bring out your forces.”

Quick as thought, Manual was in the room of Griffith, to whom he briefly communicated the situation of things, when he reappeared in the passage, and then proceeded on a similar errand to the room of the Pilot.

“Follow, and behave as usual,” he whispered; “say not a word, but trust all to me.”

The Pilot arose, and obeyed these instructions without asking a question, with the most admirable coolness.

“I am now ready to proceed,” said Manual, when they had joined Borroughcliffe.

During the short time occupied in these arrangements, the sentinel and his captain had stood looking at each other with great military exactitude, the former ambitious of manifesting his watchfulness, the latter awaiting the return of the marine. The captain now beckoned to Manual to advance and give the countersign.

“Loyalty,” whispered Manual, when he approached the sentinel. But the soldier had been allowed time to reflect; and as he well understood the situation of his officer, he hesitated to allow the prisoner to pass, After a moment’s pause, he said:

“Advance, friends.” At this summons the whole party moved to the point of his bayonet; when the man continued: “The prisoners have the countersign, Captain Borroughcliffe, but I dare not let them pass.”

“Why not?” asked the captain; “am I not here, sirrah? do you not know me?”

“Yes, sir, I know your honor, and respect your honor; but I was posted here by my sergeant, and ordered not to let these men pass out on any account.”

“That’s what I call good discipline,” said Borroughcliffe, with an exulting laugh; “I knew the lad would not mind me any more than that he would obey the orders of that lamp. Here are no slaves of the lamp, my amphibious comrade; drill ye your marines in this consummate style to niceties?”

“What means this trifling?” said the Pilot, sternly.

“Ah! I thought I should turn the laugh on you,” cried Manual, affecting to join in the mirth; “we know all these things well, and we practise them in our corps; but though the sentinel cannot know you, the sergeant will; so let him be called and orders be given through him to the man on post, that we may pass out.”

“Your throat grows uneasy, I see,” said Borroughcliffe; “you crave, another bottle of the generous fluid. Well, it shall be done. Sentinel, you can throw up yon window, and give a call to the sergeant.”

“The outcry will ruin us,” said the Pilot, in a whisper to Griffith.

“Follow me,” said the young sailor. The sentinel was turning to execute the orders of his captain as Griffith spoke, when springing forward, in an instant he wrenched the musket from his hands; a heavy blow with its butt felled the astonished soldier to the floor; then, poising his weapon, Griffith exclaimed:

“Forward! we can clear our own way now!”

“On!” said the Pilot, leaping lightly over the prostrate soldier, a dagger gleaming in one hand and a pistol presented in the other.

Manual was by his side in an instant, armed in a similar manner; and the three rushed together from the building, without meeting any one to oppose their flight.

Borroughcliffe was utterly unable to follow; and so astounded was he by this sudden violence, that several minutes passed before he was restored to the use of his speech, a faculty which seldom deserted him. The man had recovered his senses and his feet, however; and the two stood gazing at each other in mute condolence. At length the sentinel broke the silence:

“Shall I give the alarm, your honor?”

“I rather think not, Peters. I wonder if there be any such thing as gratitude or good-breeding in the marine corps!”

“I hope your honor will remember that I did my duty, and that I was disarmed while executing your orders.”

“I can remember nothing about it, Peters, except that it is rascally treatment, and such as I shall yet make this amphibious aquatic gentleman answer for. But lock the door-look as if nothing had happened, and—-“

“Ah! your honor, that is not so easily done as your honor may please to think. I have not any doubt but there is the print of the breech of a musket stamped on my back and shoulders, as plainly to be seen as that light.”

“Then look as you please; but hold your peace, sirrah. Here is a crown to buy a plaster. I heard the dog throw away your musket on the stairs– go seek it, and return to your post; and when you are relieved, act as if nothing had happened. I take the responsibility on myself.”

The man obeyed; and when he was once more armed, Borroughcliffe, a good deal sobered by the surprise, made the best of his way to his own apartment, muttering threats and execrations against the “corps of marines and the whole race,” as he called them, “of aquatic amphibii.”

CHAPTER XVI.

“Away! away! the covey’s fled the cover; Put forth the dogs, and let the falcon fly– I’ll spend some leisure in the keen pursuit, Nor longer waste my hours in sluggish quiet.”

The soldier passed the remainder of the night in the heavy sleep of a bacchanalian, and awoke late on the following morning, only when aroused by the entrance of his servant. When the customary summons had induced the captain to unclose his eyelids, he arose in his bed, and after performing the usual operation of a diligent friction on his organs of vision, he turned sternly to his man, and remarked with an ill-humor that seemed to implicate the innocent servant in the fault which his master condemned:

“I thought, sirrah, that I ordered Sergeant Drill not to let a drumstick touch a sheepskin while we quartered in the dwelling of this hospitable old colonel! Does the fellow despise my commands? or does he think the roll of a drum, echoing through the crooked passages of St. Ruth, a melody that is fit to disturb the slumbers of its inmates?”

“I believe, sir,” returned the man, “it was the wish of Colonel Howard himself, that on this occasion the sergeant should turn out the guard by the roll of the drum.”

“The devil it was!–I see the old fellow loves to tickle the drum of his own ear now and then with familiar sounds; but have you had a muster of the cattle from the farmyard too, as well as a parade of the guard? I hear the trampling of feet, as if the old abbey were a second ark, and all the beasts of the field were coming aboard of us!”

“‘Tis nothing but the party of dragoons from—-, who are wheeling into the courtyard, sir, where the colonel has gone out to receive them.”

“Courtyard! light dragoons!” repeated Borroughcliffe, in amazement; “and has it come to this, that twenty stout fellows of the —-th are not enough to guard such a rookery as this old abbey, against the ghosts and northeast storms, but we must have horse to reinforce us? Hum! I suppose some of these booted gentlemen have heard of this South Carolina Madeira.”

“Oh, no, sir!” cried his man; “it is only the party that Mr. Dillon went to seek last evening, after you saw fit, sir, to put the three pirates in irons.”

“Pirates in irons,” said Borroughcliffe, again passing his hands over his eyes, though in a more reflecting manner than before: “ha! oh! I remember to have put three suspicious looking rascals in the black-hole, or some such place; but what can Mr. Dillon, or the light dragoons, have to do with these fellows?”

“That we do not know, sir; but it is said below, sir, as some suspicions had fallen on their being conspirators and rebels from the colonies, and that they were great officers and Tories in disguise; some said that one was General Washington, and others that it was only three members of the Yankee parliament, come over to get our good old English fashions to set themselves up with.”

“Washington! Members of Congress! Go–go, simpleton, and learn how many these troopers muster, and what halt they make; but stay, place my clothes near me. Now, do as I bid you, and if the dragoon officer enquire for me, make my respects, and tell him I shall be with him soon. Go, fellow; go.”

When the man left the room, the captain, while he proceeded with the business of the toilet, occasionally gave utterance to the thoughts that crowded on his recollection, after the manner of a soliloquy.

“Ay! my commission to a half-pay ensigncy, that some of these lazy fellows, who must have a four-legged beast to carry them to the wars, have heard of the ‘south side.’ South side! I believe I must put an advertisement in the London Gazette, calling that amphibious soldier to an account If he be a true man, he will not hide himself under his incognito, but will give me a meeting. If that should fail, damme, I’ll ride across to Yarmouth, and call out the first of the mongrel breed that I fall in with. ‘Sdeath! Was ever such an insult practised on a gentleman and a soldier before? Would that I only knew his name! Why, if the tale should get abroad, I shall be the standing joke of the mess- table, until some greater fool than myself can be found. It would cost me at least six duels to get rid of it. No, no; not a trigger will I pull in my own regiment about the silly affair: but I’ll have a crack at some marine in very revenge; for that is no more than reasonable. That Peters! if the scoundrel should dare whisper anything of the manner in which he was stamped with the breech of the musket! I can’t flog him for it; but if I don’t make it up to him the first time he gives me a chance, I am ignorant of the true art of balancing regimental accounts.”

By the time the recruiting officer had concluded this soliloquy, which affords a very fair exposition of the current of his thoughts, he was prepared to meet the new comers, and he accordingly descended to the courtyard, as in duty bound, to receive them in his proper person. Boroughcliffe encountered his host, in earnest conversation with a young man in a cavalry uniform, in the principal entrance of the abbey, and was greeted by the former with:

“A good morning to you, my worthy guard and protector! here is rare news for your loyal ears. It seems that our prisoners are enemies to the king in disguise; and, Cornet Fitzgerald–Captain Borroughcliffe, of the –th, permit me to make you acquainted with Mr. Fitzgerald of the –th light dragoons.” While the soldiers exchanged their salutations, the old man continued: “The cornet has been kind enough to lead down a detachment of his troop to escort the rogues up to London, or some other place, where they will find enough good and loyal officers to form a court-martial, that can authorize their execution as spies. Christopher Dillon, my worthy kinsman, Kit, saw into their real characters at a glance; while you and I, like two unsuspecting boys, thought the rascals would have made fit men to serve the king. But Kit has an eye and a head that few enjoy like him, and I would that he might receive his dues at the English bar.”

“It is to be desired, sir,” said Borroughcliffe, with a grave aspect, that was produced chiefly by his effort to give effect to his sarcasm, but a little, also, by the recollection of the occurrences that were yet to be explained; “but what reason has Mr. Christopher Dillon to believe that the three seamen are more or less than they seem?”

“I know not what; but a good and sufficient reason, I will venture my life,” cried the colonel; “Kit is a lad for reasons, which you know is the foundation of his profession, and knows how to deliver them manfully in the proper place; but you know, gentlemen, that the members of the bar cannot assume the open and bold front that becomes a soldier, without often endangering the cause in which they are concerned. No, no; trust me, Kit has his reasons, and in good time will he deliver them.”

“I hope, then,” said the captain carelessly, “that it may be found that we have had a proper watch on our charge, Colonel Howard; I think you told me the windows were too high for an escape in that direction, for I had no sentinel outside of the building.”

“Fear nothing, my worthy friend,” cried his host; “unless your men have slept, instead of watching, we have them safe; but, as it will be necessary to convey them away before any of the civil authority can lay hands on them, let us proceed to the rear, and unkennel the dogs. A party of the horse might proceed at once with them to—-, while we are breaking our fasts. It would be no very wise thing to allow the civilians to deal with them, for they seldom have a true idea of the nature of the crime.”

“Pardon me, sir,” said the young officer of horse; “I was led to believe, by Mr. Dillon, that we might meet with a party of the enemy in some little force, and that I should find a pleasanter duty than that of a constable; besides, sir, the laws of the realm guarantee to the subject a trial by his peers, and it is more than I dare do to carry the men to the barracks, without first taking them before a magistrate.”

“Ay! you speak of loyal and dutiful subjects,” said the colonel; “and, as respects them, doubtless, you are right; but such privileges are withheld from enemies and traitors.”

“It must be first proved that they are such, before they can receive the treatment or the punishment that they merit,” returned the young man, a little positively, who felt the more confidence, because he had only left the Temple the year before. “If I take charge of the men at all, it will be only to transfer them safely to the civil authority.”

“Let us go and see the prisoners,” cried Borroughcliffe, with a view to terminate a discussion that was likely to wax warm, and which he knew to be useless; “perhaps they may quietly enroll themselves under the banners of our sovereign, when all other interference, save that of wholesome discipline, will become unnecessary.”

“Nay, if they are of a rank in life to render such a step probable,” returned the cornet, “I am well content that the matter should be thus settled. I trust, however, that Captain Borroughcliffe will consider that the –th light dragoons has some merit in this affair, and that we are far short of our numbers in the second squadron.”

“We shall not be difficult at a compromise,” returned the captain; “there is one apiece for us, and a toss of a guinea shall determine who has the third man. Sergeant! follow, to deliver over your prisoners, and relieve your sentry.”

As they proceeded in compliance with this arrangement, to the building in the rear, Colonel Howard, who made one of the party, observed:

“I dispute not the penetration of Captain Borroughcliffe, but I understand Mr. Christopher Dillon that there is reason to believe one of these men, at least, to be of a class altogether above that of a common soldier; in which case, your plans may fall to the ground.”

“And who does he deem the gentleman to be?” asked Borroughcliffe–“a Bourbon in disguise, or a secret representative of the rebel congress?”

“Nay, nay: he said nothing more; my kinsman Kit keeps a close mouth whenever Dame Justice is about to balance her scales. There are men who may be said to have been born to be soldiers; of which number I should call the Earl Cornwallis, who makes such head against the rebels in the two Carolinas; others seem to be intended by nature for divines, and saints on earth, such as their graces of York and Canterbury; while another class appears as if it were impossible for them to behold things unless with discriminating, impartial, and disinterested eyes; to which I should say, belong my Lord Chief Justice Mansfield, and my kinsman, Mr. Christopher Dillon. I trust, gentlemen, that when the royal arms have crushed this rebellion, his majesty’s ministers will see the propriety of extending the dignity of the peerage to the colonies, as a means of reward to the loyal, and a measure of policy to prevent further disaffection; in which case I hope to see my kinsman decorated with the ermine of justice bordering the mantle of a peer.”

“Your expectations, my excellent sir, are right reasonable; as I doubt not your kinsman will become, at some future day, that which he is not at present, unhappily for his deserts, right honorable,” said Borroughcliffe. “But be of good heart, sir; from what I have seen of his merits, I doubt not that the law will yet have its revenge in due season, and that we shall be properly edified and instructed how to attain elevation in life, by the future exaltation of Mr. Christopher Dillon; though by what title he is to be then known, I am at a loss to say.”

Colonel Howard was too much occupied with his own ex-parte views of the war and things in general, to observe the shrewd looks that were exchanged between the soldiers; but he answered with perfect simplicity:

“I have reflected much on that point, and have come to the opinion, that as he has a small estate on that river, he should, cause his first barony to be known by the title of ‘Pedee.'”

“Barony!” echoed Borroughcliffe; “I trust the new nobles of a new world will disdain the old worn-out distinctions of a hackneyed universe– eschew all baronies, mine host, and cast earldoms and dukedoms to the shades. The immortal Locke has unlocked his fertile mind to furnish you with appellations suited to the originality of your condition and the nature of your country. Ah! here comes the Cacique of Pedee, in his proper person!”

As Borroughcliffe spoke, they were ascending the flight of stone steps which led to the upper apartments, where the prisoners were still supposed to be confined; and, at the same moment, the sullen, gloomy features of Dillon were seen as he advanced along the lower passage, with an expression of malicious exultation hovering above his dark brow, that denoted his secret satisfaction. As the hours passed away the period had come round when the man who had been present at the escape of Griffith and his friends was again posted to perform the duty of sentinel. As this soldier well knew the situation of his trust, he was very coolly adjusted, with his back against the wall, endeavoring to compensate himself for his disturbed slumbers during the night, when the sounds of the approaching footsteps warned him to assume the appearance of watchfulness.

“How, now, fellow!” cried Borroughcliffe; “what have you to say to your charge!”

“I believe the men sleep, your honor; for I have heard no noises from the rooms since I relieved the last sentinel.”

“The lads are weary, and are right to catch what sleep they can in their comfortable quarters,” returned the captain. “Stand to your arms, sirrah! and throw back your shoulders; and do not move like a crab, or a train-band corporal; do you not see an officer of horse coming up? Would you disgrace your regiment?”

“Ah! your honor, Heaven only knows whether I shall ever get my shoulders even again.”

“Buy another plaster,” said Borroughcliffe, slipping a shilling into his hand; “observe, you know nothing but your duty.”

“Which is, your honor—-“

“To mind me, and be silent. But here comes the sergeant with his guard: he will relieve you.”

The rest of the party stopped at the other end of the gallery, to allow the few files of soldiers who were led by the orderly to pass them, when they all moved towards the prison in a body. The sentinel was relieved in due military style; when Dillon placed his hand on one of the doors, and said, with a malicious sneer:

“Open here first, Mr. Sergeant; this cage holds the man we most want.”

“Softly, softly, my Lord Chief Justice, and most puissant Cacique,” said the captain; “the hour has not yet come to empanel a jury of fat yeomen, and no man must interfere with my boys but myself.”

“The rebuke is harsh, I must observe, Captain Borroughcliffe,” said the colonel, “but I pardon it because it is military. No, no, Kit these nice points must be left to martial usages. Be not impatient, my cousin; I doubt not the hour will come, when you shall hold the scales of justice and satisfy your loyal longings on many a traitor. Zounds! I could almost turn executioner myself in such a cause!”

“I can curb my impatience, sir,” returned Dillon, with hypocritical meekness, and great self-command, though his eyes were gleaming with savage exultation. “I beg pardon of Captain Borroughcliffe, if, in my desire to render the civil authority superior to the military, I have trespassed on your customs.”

“You see, Borroughcliffe!” exclaimed the colonel, exultingly, “the lad is ruled by an instinct in all matters of law and justice. I hold it to be impossible that a man thus endowed can ever become a disloyal subject. But our breakfast waits, and Mr. Fitzgerald has breathed his horse this cool morning; let us proceed at once to the examination.”

Borroughcliffe motioned to the sergeant to open the door, when the whole party entered the vacant room.

“Your prisoner has escaped!” cried the cornet, after a single moment employed in making sure of the fact.

“Never! it must not, shall not be!” cried Dillon, quivering with rage, as he glanced his eyes furiously around the apartment; “here has been treachery! and foul treason to the king!”

“By whom committed, Mr. Christopher Dillon?” said Borroughcliffe, knitting his brow, and speaking in a suppressed tone: “dare you, or any man living, charge treason to the –th!”

A very different feeling from rage appeared now to increase the shivering propensities of the future judge, who at once perceived it was necessary to moderate his passion; and he returned, as it were by magic, to his former plausible and insinuating manner, as he replied:

“Colonel Howard will understand the cause of my warm feelings, when I tell him that this very room contained, last night, that disgrace to his name and country, as well as traitor to his king, Edward Griffith, of the rebel navy.”

“What!” exclaimed the colonel, starting, “has that recreant youth dared to pollute the threshold of St. Ruth with his footstep? but you dream, Kit; there would be too much hardihood in the act.”

“It appears not, sir,” returned the other; “for though in this very apartment he most certainly was, he is here no longer. And yet from this window, though open, escape would seem to be impossible, even with much assistance.”

“If I thought that the contumelious boy had dared to be guilty of such an act of gross impudence,” cried the colonel, “I should be tempted to resume my arms, in my old age, to punish his effrontery. What! is it not enough that he entered my dwelling in the colony, availing himself of the distraction of the times, with an intent to rob me of my choicest jewel–ay! gentlemen, even of my brother Harry’s daughter–but that he must also invade this hallowed island with a like purpose, thus thrusting his treason, as it were, into the presence of his abused prince! No, no, Kit, thy loyalty misleads thee; he has never dared to do the deed!”

“Listen, sir, and you shall be convinced,” returned the pliant Christopher, “I do not wonder at your unbelief; but as a good testimony is the soul of justice, I cannot resist its influence. You know, that two vessels, corresponding in appearance to the two rebel cruisers that annoyed us so much in the Carolinas, have been seen on the coast for several days, which induced us to beg the protection of Captain Borroughcliffe. Three men are found, the day succeeding that on which we hear that these vessels came within the shoals, stealing through the grounds of St. Ruth, in sailors’ attire. They are arrested, and in the voice of one of them, sir, I immediately detected that of the traitor Griffith. He was disguised, it is true, and cunningly so; but when a man has devoted his whole life to the business of investigating truth,” he added, with an air of much modesty, “it is difficult to palm any disguise on his senses,”

Colonel Howard was strongly impressed with the probability of these conjectures, and the closing appeal confirmed him immediately in his kinsman’s opinion, while Borroughcliffe listened with deep interest to the speakers, and more than once bit his lip with vexation. When Dillon concluded, the soldier exclaimed:

“I’ll swear there was a man among them who has been used to the drill.”

“Nothing more probable, my worthy friend,” said Dillon; “for as the landing was never made without some evil purpose, rely on it, he came not unguarded or unprotected. I dare say, the three were all officers, and one of them might have been of the marines. That they had assistance is certain, and it was because I felt assured they had a force secreted at hand, that I went in quest of the reinforcement.”

There was so much plausibility, and, in fact, so much truth in all this, that conviction was unwillingly admitted by Borroughcliffe, who walked aside a moment to conceal the confusion which, in spite of his ordinary inflexibility of countenance, he felt was manifesting itself in his rubric visage, while he muttered:

“The amphibious dog! he was a soldier, but a traitor and an enemy. No doubt he will have a marvelous satisfaction in delighting the rebellious ears of his messmates, by rehearsing the manner in which he poured cold water down the back of one Borroughcliffe, of the –th, who was amusing him, at the same time, by pouring good, rich, south-side Madeira down his own rebellious throat. I have a good mind to exchange my scarlet coat for a blue jacket, on purpose to meet the sly rascal on the other element, where we can discuss the matter over again. Well, sergeant, do you find the other two?”

“They are gone together, your honor,” returned the orderly, who just then re-entered from an examination of the other apartments; “and unless the evil one helped them off, it’s a mysterious business to me.”

“Colonel Howard,” said Borroughcliffe, gravely, “your precious south- side cordial must be banished from the board, regularly with the cloth, until I have my revenge; for satisfaction of this insult is mine to claim, and I seek it this instant Go, Drill; detail a guard for the protection of the house, and feed the rest of your command, then beat the general, and we will take the field. Ay! my worthy veteran host, for the first time since the days of the unlucky Charles Stuart, there shall be a campaign in the heart of England.”

“Ah! rebellion, rebellion! accursed, unnatural, unholy rebellion, caused the calamity then and now!” exclaimed the colonel.

“Had I not better take a hasty refreshment for my men and their horses?” asked the cornet; “and then make a sweep for a few miles along the coast?” It may be my luck to encounter the fugitives, or some part of their force.”

“You have anticipated my very thoughts,” returned Borroughcliffe. “The Cacique of Pedee may close the gates of St. Ruth, and, by barring the windows, and arming the servants, he can make a very good defence against an attack, should they think proper to assail our fortress; after he has repulsed them, leave it to me to cut off their retreat.”

Dillon but little relished this proposal; for he thought an attempt to storm the abbey would be the most probable course adopted by Griffith, in order to rescue his mistress; and the jurist had none of the spirit of a soldier in his composition. In truth, it was this deficiency that had induced him to depart in person, the preceding night, in quest of the reinforcement, instead of sending an express on the errand, But the necessity of devising an excuse for a change in this dangerous arrangement was obviated by Colonel Howard, who exclaimed, as soon as Borroughcliffe concluded his plan:

“To me, Captain Borroughcliffe, belongs, of right, the duty of defending St. Ruth, and it shall be no boy’s play to force my works; but Kit would rather try his chance in the open field, I know, Come, let us to our breakfast, and then he shall mount, and act as a guide to the horse, along the difficult passes of the seashore.”

“To breakfast then let it be,” cried the captain; “I distrust not my new commander of the fortress; and in the field the Cacique forever! We follow you, my worthy host.”

This arrangement was hastily executed in all its parts. The gentlemen swallowed their meal in the manner of men who ate only to sustain nature, and as a duty; after which the whole house became a scene of bustling activity. The troops were mustered and paraded; Borroughcliffe, setting apart a guard for the building, placed himself at the head of the remainder of his little party, and they moved out of the courtyard in open order, and at quick time. Dillon joyfully beheld himself mounted on one of the best of Colonel Howard’s hunters, where he knew that he had the control, in a great measure, of his own destiny; his bosom throbbing with a powerful desire to destroy Griffith, while he entertained a lively wish to effect his object without incurring any personal risk. At his side was the young cornet, seated with practised grace in his saddle, who, after giving time for the party of foot- soldiers to clear the premises, glanced his eye along the few files he led, and then gave the word to move. The little division of horse wheeled briskly into open column, and the officer touching his cap to Colonel Howard, they dashed through the gateway together, and pursued their route towards the seaside at a hand-gallop.

The veteran lingered a few minutes, while the clattering of hoofs was to be heard, or the gleam of arms was visible, to hear and gaze at sounds and sights that he still loved; after which, he proceeded, in person, and not without a secret enjoyment of the excitement, to barricade the doors and windows, with an undaunted determination of making, in case of need, a stout defence.

St. Ruth lay but a short two miles from the ocean; to which numerous roads led, through the grounds of the abbey, which extended to the shore. Along one of these paths Dillon conducted his party, until, after a few minutes of hard riding, they approached the cliffs, when, posting his troopers under cover of a little copse, the cornet rode in advance with his guide, to the verge of the perpendicular rocks, whose bases were washed by the foam that still whitened the waters from the surges of the subsiding sea.

The gale had broken before the escape of the prisoners; and as the power of the eastern tempest had gradually diminished, a light current from the south, that blew directly along the land, prevailed; and, though the ocean still rolled in fearful billows, their surfaces were smooth, and they were becoming, at each moment, less precipitous and more regular. The eyes of the horsemen were cast in vain over the immense expanse of water that was glistening brightly under the rays of the sun, which had just risen from its bosom, in quest of some object or distant sail that might confirm their suspicions, or relieve their doubts. But everything of that description appeared to have avoided the dangerous navigation during the violence of the late tempest, and Dillon, was withdrawing his eyes in disappointment from the vacant view, when, as they fell towards the shore, he beheld that which caused him to exclaim:

“There they go! and, by heaven, they will escape!”

The cornet looked in the direction of the other’s finger, when he beheld, at a short distance from the land, and apparently immediately under his feet, a little boat that looked like a dark shell upon the water, rising and sinking amid the waves, as if the men it obviously contained were resting on their oars in idle expectation.

“‘Tis they!” continued Dillon; “or, what is more probable, it is their boat waiting to convey them to their vessel; no common business would induce seamen to lie in this careless manner, within such a narrow distance of the surf.”

“And what is to be done? They cannot be made to feel horse where they are; nor would the muskets of the foot be of any use. A light three- pounder would do its work handsomely on them!”

The strong desire which Dillon entertained to intercept, or rather to destroy, the party, rendered him prompt at expedients. After a moment of musing, he replied:

“The runaways must yet be on the land; and by scouring the coast, and posting men at proper intervals, their retreat can easily be prevented; in the mean time I will ride under the spur to—-bay, where one of his majesty’s cutters now lies at anchor. It is but half an hour of hard riding, and I can be on board of her. The wind blows directly in her favor; and if we can once bring her down behind that headland, we shall infallibly cut off or sink these midnight depredators.”

“Off, then!” cried the cornet, whose young blood was boiling for a skirmish; “you will at least drive them to the shore, where I can deal with them.”

The words were hardly uttered, before Dillon, after galloping furiously along the cliffs, and turning short into a thick wood that lay in his route, was out of sight. The loyalty of this gentleman was altogether of a calculating nature, and was intimately connected with what he considered his fealty to himself. He believed that the possession of Miss Howard’s person and fortune were advantages that would much more than counterbalance any elevation that he was likely to obtain by the revolution of affairs in his native colony. He considered Griffith as the only natural obstacle to his success; and he urged his horse forward with a desperate determination to work the ruin of the young sailor before another sun had set. When a man labors in an evil cause, with such feelings, and with such incentives, he seldom slights or neglects his work; and Mr. Dillon, accordingly, was on board the Alacrity several minutes short of the time in which he had promised to perform the distance.

The plain old seaman, who commanded the cutter, listened to his tale with cautious ears; and examined into the state of the weather, and other matters connected with his duty, with the slow and deliberate decision of one who had never done much to acquire a confidence in himself, and who had been but niggardly rewarded for the little he had actually performed.

As Dillon was urgent, however, and the day seemed propitious, he at length decided to act as he was desired, and the cutter was accordingly gotten under way.

A crew of something less than fifty men moved with no little of their commander’s deliberation; but as the little vessel rounded the point behind which she had been anchored, her guns were cleared, and the usual preparations were completed for immediate and actual service.

Dillon, sorely against his will, was compelled to continue on board, in order to point out the place where the suspecting boatmen were expected, to be entrapped. Everything being ready, when they had gained a safe distance from the land, the Alacrity was kept away before the wind, and glided along the shore with a swift and easy progress that promised a speedy execution of the business in which her commander had embarked.

CHAPTER XVII.

“_Pol_. Very like a whale.”
_Shakespeare._

Notwithstanding the object of their expedition was of a public nature, the feelings which had induced both Griffith and Barnstable to accompany the Pilot with so much willingness, it will easily be seen, were entirely personal. The short intercourse that he had maintained with his associates enabled the mysterious leader of their party to understand the characters of his two principal officers so thoroughly, as to induce him, when he landed, with the purpose of reconnoitering to ascertain whether the objects of his pursuit still held their determination to assemble at the appointed hour, to choose Griffith and Manual as his only associates, leaving Barnstable in command of his own vessel, to await their return, and to cover their retreat. A good deal of argument, and some little of the authority of his superior officer, was necessary to make Barnstable quietly acquiesce in this arrangement; but as his good sense told him that nothing should be unnecessarily hazarded, until the moment to strike the final blow had arrived, he became gradually more resigned; taking care, however, to caution Griffith to reconnoiter the abbey while his companion was reconnoitering —- house. It was the strong desire of Griffith to comply with this injunction, which carried them a little out of their proper path, and led to the consequences that we have partly related. The evening of that day was the time when the Pilot intended to complete his enterprise, thinking to entrap his game while enjoying the festivities that usually succeed their sports; and an early hour in the morning was appointed, when Barnstable should appear at the nearest point to the abbey, to take off his countrymen, in order that they might be as little as possible subjected to the gaze of their enemies by daylight. If they failed to arrive at the appointed time, his instructions were to return to his schooner, which lay snugly embayed in a secret and retired haven, that but few ever approached, either by land or water.

While the young cornet still continued gazing at the whale-boat (for it was the party from the schooner that he saw), the hour expired for the appearance of Griffith and his companions; and Barnstable reluctantly determined to comply with the letter of his instructions, and leave them to their own sagacity and skill to regain the Ariel. The boat had been suffered to ride in the edge of the surf, since the appearance of the sun; and the eyes of her crew were kept anxiously fixed on the cliffs, though in vain, to discover the signal that was to call them to the place of landing. After looking at his watch for the twentieth time, and as often casting glances of uneasy dissatisfaction towards the shore, the lieutenant exclaimed:

“A charming prospect, this, Master Coffin, but rather too much poetry in it for your taste; I believe you relish no land that is of a harder consistency than mud!”

“I was born on the waters, sir,” returned the cockswain, from his snug abode, where he was bestowed with his usual economy of room, “and it’s according to all things for a man to love his native soil. I’ll not deny, Captain Barnstable, but I would rather drop my anchor on a bottom that won’t broom a keel, though, at the same time, I harbor no great malice against dry land.”

“I shall never forgive it, myself, if any accident has befallen Griffith in this excursion,” rejoined the lieutenant; “his Pilot may be a better man on the water than on terra firma, long Tom.”

The cockswain turned his solemn visage, with an extraordinary meaning, towards his commander, before he replied:

“For as long a time as I have followed the waters, sir, and that has been ever since I’ve drawn my rations, seeing that I was born while the boat was crossing Nantucket shoals, I’ve never known a pilot come off in greater need, than the one we fell in with, when we made that stretch of two on the land, in the dog-watch of yesterday.”

“Ay! the fellow has played his part like a man; the occasion was great, and it seems that he was quite equal to his work.”

“The frigate’s people tell me, sir, that he handled the ship like a top,” continued the cockswain; “but she is a ship that is a nateral inimy of the bottom!”

“Can you say as much for this boat, Master Coffin?” cried Barnstable: “keep her out of the surf, or you’ll have us rolling in upon the beach, presently, like an empty water-cask; you must remember that we cannot all wade, like yourself in two-fathom water.”

The cockswain cast a cool glance at the crests of foam that were breaking over the tops of the billows, within a few yards of where their boat was riding, and called aloud to his men:

“Pull a stroke or two; away with her into dark water.”

The drop of the oars resembled the movements of a nice machine, and the light boat skimmed along the water like a duck that approaches to the very brink of some imminent danger, and then avoids it, at the most critical moment, apparently without an effort. While this necessary movement was making, Barnstable arose, and surveyed the cliffs with keen eyes, and then turning once more in disappointment from his search, he said:

“Pull more from the land, and let her run down at an easy stroke to the schooner. Keep a lookout at the cliffs, boys; it is possible that they are stowed in some of the holes in the rocks, for it’s no daylight business they are on.”

The order was promptly obeyed, and they had glided along for nearly a mile in this manner, in the most profound silence, when suddenly the stillness was broken by a heavy rush of air, and a dash of the water, seemingly at no great distance from them.

“By heaven, Tom,” cried Barnstable, starting, “there is the blow of a whale!”

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the cockswain with undisturbed composure; “here is his spout not half a mile to seaward; the easterly gale has driven the creatur to leeward, and he begins to find himself in shoal water. He’s been sleeping, while he should have been working to windward!”

“The fellow takes it coolly, too! he’s in no hurry to get an offing!”

“I rather conclude, sir,” said the cockswain, rolling over his tobacco in his mouth very composedly, while his little sunken eyes began to twinkle with pleasure at the sight, “the gentleman has lost his reckoning, and don’t know which way to head to take himself back into blue water.”

“Tis a finback!” exclaimed the lieutenant; “he will soon make headway, and be off.”

“No, sir, ’tis a right-whale,” answered Tom; “I saw his spout; he threw up a pair of as pretty rainbows as a Christian would wish to look at. He’s a raal oil-butt, that fellow!”

Barnstable laughed, turned himself away from the tempting sight, and tried to look at the cliffs; and then unconsciously bent his longing eyes again on the sluggish animal, who was throwing his huge carcass, at times, for many feet from the water, in idle gambols. The temptation for sport, and the recollection of his early habits, at length prevailed over his anxiety in behalf of his friends, and the young officer inquired of his cockswain:

“Is there any whale-line in the boat, to make fast to that harpoon which you bear about with you in fair weather or foul?”

“I never trust the boat from the schooner without part of a shot, sir,” returned the cockswain; “there if something nateral in the sight of a tub to my old eyes.”

Barnstable looked at his watch, and again at the cliffs, when he exclaimed, in joyous tones:

“Give strong way, my hearties! There seems nothing better to be done; let us have a stroke of a harpoon at that impudent rascal.”

The men shouted spontaneously, and the old cockswain suffered his solemn visage to relax into a small laugh, while the whale-boat sprang forward like a courser for the goal. During the few minutes they were pulling towards their game, long Tom arose from his crouching attitude in the stern-sheets, and transferred his huge form to the bows of the boat, where he made such preparations to strike the whale as the occasion required. The tub, containing about half of a whale-line, was placed at the feet of Barnstabie, who had been preparing an oar to steer with in place of the rudder, which was unshipped, in order that, if necessary, the boat might be whirled round when not advancing.

Their approach was utterly unnoticed by the monster of the deep, who continued to amuse himself with throwing the water in two circular spouts high into the air, occasionally flourishing the broad flukes of his tail with a graceful but terrific force, until the hardy seamen were within a few hundred feet of him, when he suddenly cast his head downward and, without an apparent effort, reared his immense body for many feet above the water, waving his tail violently, and producing a whizzing noise, that sounded like the rushing of winds.

The cockswain stood erect, poising his harpoon, ready for the blow; but when he beheld the creature assume this formidable attitude, he waved his hand to his commander, who instantly signed to his men to cease rowing. In this situation the sportsmen rested a few moments, while the whale, struck several blows on the water in rapid succession, the noise of which re-echoed along the cliffs, like the hollow reports of so many cannon. After this wanton exhibition of his terrible strength, the monster sank again into his native element, and slowly disappeared from the eyes of his pursuers.

“Which way did he head, Tom?” cried Barnstable, the moment the whale was out of sight.

“Pretty much up and down, sir,” returned the cockswain, whose eye was gradually brightened with the excitement of the sport; “he’ll soon run his nose against the bottom if he stands long on that course, and will be glad to get another snuff of pure air; send her a few fathoms to starboard, sir, and I promise we shall not be out of his track.”

The conjecture of the experienced old seaman proved true; for in a few moments the water broke near them, and another spout was cast into the air, when the huge animal rushed for half his length in the same direction, and fell on the sea with a turbulence and foam equal to that which is produced by the launching of a vessel, for the first time, into its proper element. After this evolution the whale rolled heavily, and seemed to rest for further efforts.

His slightest movements were closely watched by Barnstable and his cockswain, and when he was in a state of comparative rest, the former gave a signal to his crew to ply their oars once more. A few long and vigorous strokes sent the boat directly up to the broadside of the whale, with its bows pointing towards one of the fins, which was, at times, as the animal yielded sluggishly to the action of the waves, exposed to view. The cockswain poised his harpoon with much precision, and then darted it from him with a violence that buried the iron in the blubber of their foe. The instant the blow was made, long Tom shouted, with singular earnestness:

“Starn all!”

“Stern all!” echoed Barnstable; when the obedient seamen, by united efforts, forced the boat in a backward direction beyond the reach of any blow from their formidable antagonist. The alarmed animal, however, meditated no such resistance; ignorant of his own power, and of the insignificance of his enemies, he sought refuge in flight. One moment of stupid surprise succeeded the entrance of the iron, when he cast his huge tail into the air, with a violence that threw the sea around him into increased commotion, and then disappeared with the quickness of lightning, amid a cloud of foam.

“Snub him!” shouted Barnstable; “hold on, Tom; he rises already.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the composed cockswain, seizing the line, which was running out of the boat with a velocity that rendered such a manoeuvre rather hazardous, and causing it to yield more gradually round the large loggerhead that was placed in the bows of the boat for that purpose. Presently the line stretched forward, and rising to the surface with tremulous vibrations, it indicated the direction in which the animal might be expected to reappear. Barnstable had cast the bows of the boat towards that point, before the terrified and wounded victim rose once more to the surface, whose time was, however, no longer wasted in his sports, but who cast the waters aside as he forced his way, with prodigious velocity, along the surface. The boat was dragged violently in his wake, and cut through the billows with a terrific rapidity, that at moments appeared to bury the slight fabric in the ocean. When long Tom beheld his victim throwing his spouts on high again, he pointed with exultation to the jetting fluid, which was streaked with the deep red of blood, and cried:

“Ay! I’ve touched the fellow’s life! it must be more than two foot of blubber that stops my iron from reaching the life of any whale that ever sculled the ocean!”

“I believe you have saved yourself the trouble of using the bayonet you have rigged for a lance,” said his commander, who entered into the sport with all the ardor of one whose youth had been chiefly passed in such pursuits: “feel your line, Master Coffin; can we haul alongside of our enemy? I like not the course he is steering, as he tows us from the schooner.”

“‘Tis the creatur’s way, sir,” said the cockswain; “you know they need the air in their nostrils, when they run, the same as a man; but lay hold, boys, and let’s haul up to him.”

The seamen now seized the whale-line, and slowly drew their boat to within a few feet of the tail of the fish, whose progress became sensibly less rapid, as he grew weak with the loss of blood. In a few minutes he stopped running, and appeared to roll uneasily on the water, as if suffering the agony of death.

“Shall we pull in, and finish him, Tom?” cried Barnstable; “a few sets from your bayonet would do it.”

The cockswain stood examining his game with cool discretion, and replied to this interrogatory:

“No, sir, no–he’s going into his flurry; there’s no occasion for disgracing ourselves by using a soldier’s weapon in taking a whale. Starn off, sir, starn off! the creater’s in his flurry!”

The warning of the prudent cockswain was promptly obeyed, and the boat cautiously drew off to a distance, leaving to the animal a clear space, while under its dying agonies. From a state of perfect rest, the terrible monster threw its tail on high, as when in sport, but its blows were trebled in rapidity and violence, till all was hid from view by a pyramid of foam, that was deeply dyed with blood. The roarings of the fish were like the bellowing of a herd of bulls; and to one who was ignorant of the fact, it would have appeared as if a thousand monsters were engaged in deadly combat behind the bloody mist that obscured the view. Gradually, these effects subsided, and when the discolored water again settled down to the long and regular swell of the ocean, the fish was seen, exhausted, and yielding passively to its fate. As life departed, the enormous black mass rolled to one side; and when the white and glistening skin of the belly became apparent, the seamen well knew that their victory was achieved.

“What’s to be done now?” said Barnstable, as he stood and gazed with a diminished excitement at their victim; “he will yield no food, and his carcass will probably drift to land, and furnish our enemies with the oil.”

“If I had but that creatur in Boston Bay,” said the cockswain, “it would prove the making of me; but such is my luck forever! Pull up, at any rate, and let me get my harpoon and line–the English shall never get them while old Tom Coffin can blow.”

“Don’t speak too fast,” said the strokesman of the boat; “whether he get your iron or not, here he comes in chase!”

“What mean you, fellow?” cried Barnstable.

“Captain Barnstable can look for himself,” returned the seaman, “and tell whether I speak truth.”

The young sailor turned, and saw the Alacrity bearing down before the wind, with all her sails set, as she rounded a headland, but a short half-league to windward of the place where the boat lay.

“Pass that glass to me,” said the captain, with steady composure. “This promises us work in one of two ways: if she be armed, it has become our turn to run; if not, we are strong enough to carry her.”

A very brief survey made the experienced officer acquainted with the true character of the vessel in sight; and, replacing the glass with much coolness, he said:

“That fellow shows long arms, and ten teeth, besides King George’s pennant from his topmast-head. Now, my lads, you are to pull for your lives; for whatever may be the notions of Master Coffin on the subject of his harpoon, I have no inclination to have my arms pinioned by John Bull, though his majesty himself put on the irons.”

The men well understood the manner and meaning of their commander; and, throwing aside their coats, they applied themselves in earnest to their task. For half an hour a profound silence reigned in the boat, which made an amazing progress. But many circumstances conspired to aid the cutter; she had a fine breeze, with smooth water, and a strong tide in her favor; and, at the expiration of the time we have mentioned, it was but too apparent that the distance between the pursued and the pursuers was lessened nearly by half. Barnstable preserved his steady countenance, but there was an expression of care gathering around his dark brow, which indicated that he saw the increasing danger of their situation.

“That fellow has long legs, Master Coffin,” he said, in a cheerful tone; “your whale-line must go overboard, and the fifth oar must be handled by your delicate hands.”

Tom arose from his seat, and proceeding forward, he cast the tub and its contents together into the sea, when he seated himself at the bow oar, and, bent his athletic frame with amazing vigor to the task.

“Ah! there is much of your philosophy in that stroke, long Tom,” cried his commander; “keep it up, boys; and if we gain nothing else, we shall at least gain time for deliberation. Come, Master Coffin, what think you! We have three resources before us, let us hear which is jour choice; first, we can turn and fight and be sunk; secondly, we can pull to the land, and endeavor to make good our retreat to the schooner in that manner; and thirdly, we can head to the shore, and possibly, by running under the guns of that fellow, get the wind of him, and keep the air in our nostrils, after the manner of the whale. Damn the whale! but for the tow the black rascal gave us, we should have been out of sight of this rover!”

“If we fight,” said Tom, with quite as much composure as his commander manifested, “we shall be taken or sunk; if we land, sir, I shall be taken for one man, as I never could make any headway on dry ground; and if we try to get the wind of him by pulling under the cliffs, we shall be cut off by a parcel of lubbers that I can see running along their edges, hoping, I dare say, that they shall be able to get a skulking shot at a boat’s crew of honest seafaring men.”

“You speak with as much truth as philosophy, Tom,” said Barnstable, who saw his slender hopes of success curtailed by the open appearance of the horse and foot on the cliffs. “These Englishmen have not slept the last night, and I fear Griffith and Manual will fare but badly. That fellow brings a capful of wind down with him–’tis just his play, and he walks like a race-horse. Ha! he begins to be in earnest!”

While Barnstable was speaking, a column of white smoke was seen issuing from the bows of the cutter; and as the report of a cannon was wafted to their ears, the shot was seen skipping from wave to wave, tossing the water in spray, and flying to a considerable distance beyond them. The seamen cast cursory glances in the direction of the passing ball, but it produced no manifest effect in either their conduct or appearance. The cockswain, who scanned its range with an eye of more practice than the rest, observed, “That’s a lively piece for its metal, and it speaks with a good clear voice; but if they hear it aboard the Ariel, the man who fired it will be sorry it wasn’t born dumb.”

“You are the prince of philosophers, Master Coffin!” cried Barnstable; “there is some hope in that; let the Englishmen talk away, and, my life on it, the Ariels don’t believe it is thunder; hand me a musket–I’ll draw another shot.”

The piece was given to Barnstable, who discharged it several times, as if to taunt their enemies; and the scheme was completely successful. Goaded by the insults, the cutter discharged gun after gun at the little boat, throwing the shot frequently so near as to wet her crew with the spray, but without injuring them in the least. The failure of these attempts of the enemy excited the mirth of the reckless seamen, instead of creating any alarm; and whenever a shot came nearer than common, the cockswain would utter some such expression as:

“A ground swell, a long shot, and a small object, make a clean target;” or, “A man must squint straight to hit a boat.”

As, notwithstanding their unsuccessful gunnery, the cutter was constantly gaining on the whale-boat, there was a prospect of a speedy termination of the chase, when the report of a cannon was thrown back like an echo from one of the Englishman’s discharges, and Barnstable and his companions had the pleasure of seeing the Ariel stretching slowly out of the little bay where she had passed the night, with the smoke of the gun of defiance curling above her taper masts.

A loud and simultaneous shout of rapture was given by the lieutenant and all his boat’s crew, at this cheering sight, while the cutter took in all her light sails, and, as she hauled up on a wind, she fired a whole broadside at the successful fugitives. Many stands of grape, with several round shot, flew by the boat and fell upon the water near them, raising a cloud of foam, but without doing any injury.

“She dies in a flurry,” said Tom, casting his eyes at the little vortex into which the boat was then entering.

“If her commander be a true man,” cried Barnstable, “he’ll not leave us on so short an acquaintance. Give way, my souls! give way! I would see more of this loquacious cruiser.”

The temptation for exertion was great, and it was not disregarded by the men; in a few minutes the whale-boat reached the schooner, when the crew of the latter received their commander and his companions with shouts and cheers that rang across the waters, and reached the ears of the disappointed spectators on the verge of the cliffs.

CHAPTER XVIII.

“Thus guided on their course they bore, Until they near’d the mainland shore;
When frequent on the hollow blast, Wild shouts of merriment were cast.”
_Lord of the Isles_.

The joyful shouts and hearty cheers of the Ariel’s crew continued for some time after her commander had reached her deck. Barnstable answered the congratulations of his officers by cordial shakes of the hand; and after waiting for the ebullition of delight among the seamen to subside a little, he beckoned with an air of authority for silence.

“I thank you, my lads, for your good-will,” he said, when all were gathered around him in deep attention; “they have given us a tough chase, and if you had left us another mile to go, we had been lost. That fellow is a king’s cutter; and though his disposition to run to leeward is a good deal mollified, yet he shows signs of fight. At any rate, he is stripping off some of his clothes, which looks as if he were game. Luckily for us, Captain Manual has taken all the marines ashore with him, (though what he has done with them, or himself, is a mystery,) or we should have had our decks lumbered with live cattle; but, as it is, we have a good working breeze, tolerably smooth water, and a dead match! There is a sort of national obligation on us to whip that fellow; and therefore, without more words about the matter, let us turn to and do it, that we may get our breakfasts.”

To this specimen of marine eloquence the crew cheered as usual, the young men burning for the combat, and the few old sailors who belonged to the schooner shaking their heads with infinite satisfaction, and swearing by sundry strange oaths that their captain “could talk, when there was need of such thing, like the best dictionary that ever was launched.”

During this short harangue and the subsequent comments, the Ariel had been kept, under a cloud of canvas, as near to the wind as she could lie; and as this was her best sailing, she had stretched swiftly out from the land, to a distance whence the cliffs and the soldiers, who were spread along their summits, became plainly visible. Barnstable turned his glass repeatedly from the cutter to the shore, as different feelings predominated in his breast, before he again spoke.

“If Mr. Griffith is stowed away among those rocks,” he at length said, “he shall see as pretty an argument discussed, in as few words, as he ever listened to, provided the gentlemen in yonder cutter have not changed their minds as to the road they intend to journey–what think you, Mr. Merry?”

“I wish with all my heart and soul, sir,” returned the fearless boy, “that Mr. Griffith was safe aboard us; it seems the country is alarmed, and God knows what will happen if he is taken! As to the fellow to windward, he’ll find it easier to deal with the Ariel’s boat than with her mother; but he carries a broad sail; I question if he means to show play.”

“Never doubt him, boy,” said Barnstable, “he is working off the shore, like a man of sense, and besides, he has his spectacles on, trying to make out what tribe of Yankee Indians we belong to. You’ll see him come to the wind presently, and send a few pieces of iron down this way, by way of letting us know where to find him. Much as I like your first lieutenant, Mr. Merry, I would rather leave him on the land this day, than see him on my decks. I want no fighting captain to work this boat for me! But tell the drummer, sir, to beat to quarters.”

The boy, who was staggering under the weight of his melodious instrument, had been expecting this command, and, without waiting for the midshipman to communicate the order, he commenced that short rub-a- dub air, that will at any time rouse a thousand men from the deepest sleep, and cause them to fly to their means of offence with a common soul. The crew of the Ariel had been collected in groups studying the appearance of the enemy, cracking their jokes, and waiting only for this usual order to repair to the guns; and at the first tap of the drum, they spread with steadiness to the different parts of the little vessel, where their various duties called them. The cannon were surrounded by small parties of vigorous and athletic young men; the few marines were drawn up in array with muskets; the officers appeared in their boarding- caps, with pistols stuck in their belts, and naked sabres in their hands. Barnstable paced his little quarter-deck with a firm tread, dangling a speaking-trumpet by its lanyard on his forefinger, or occasionally applying the glass to his eye, which, when not in use, was placed under one arm, while his sword was resting against the foot of the mainmast; a pair of heavy ship’s pistols were thrust into his belt also; and piles of muskets, boarding-pikes, and naked sabres were placed on different parts of the deck. The laugh of the seamen was heard no longer, and those who spoke uttered their thoughts only in low and indistinct whispers.

The English cutter held her way from the land, until she got an offing of more than two miles, when she reduced her sails to a yet smaller number; and, heaving into the wind, she fired a gun in a direction opposite to that which pointed to the Ariel.

“Now I would wager a quintal of codfish, Master Coffin,” said Barnstable, “against the best cask of porter that was ever brewed in England, that fellow believes a Yankee schooner can fly in the wind’s eye! If he wishes to speak to us, why don’t he give his cutter a little sheet, and come down?”

The cockswain had made his arrangements for the combat, with much more method and philosophy than any other man in the vessel. When the drum beat to quarters, he threw aside his jacket, vest, and shirt, with as little hesitation as if he stood under an American sun, and with all the discretion of a man who had engaged in an undertaking that required the free use of his utmost powers. As he was known to be a privileged individual in the Ariel, and one whose opinions, in all matters of seamanship, were regarded as oracles by the crew, and were listened to by his commander with no little demonstration of respect, the question excited no surprise. He was standing at the breech of his long gun, with his brawny arms folded on a breast that had been turned to the color of blood by long exposure, his grizzled locks fluttering in the breeze, and his tall form towering far above the heads of all near him.

“He hugs the wind, sir, as if it was his sweetheart,” was his answer; “but he’ll let go his hold soon; and if he don’t, we can find a way to make him fall to leeward.”

“Keep a good full!” cried the commander, in a stern voice; “and let the vessel go through the water. That fellow walks well, long Tom; but we are too much for him on a bowline; though, if he continue to draw ahead in this manner, it will be night before we can get alongside him.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the cockswain; “them cutters carries a press of canvas when they seem to have but little; their gafts are all the same as young booms, and spread a broad head to their mainsails. But it’s no hard matter to knock a few cloths out of their bolt-ropes, when she will both drop astarn and to leeward.”

“I believe there is good sense in your scheme, this time,” said Barnstable; “for I am anxious about the frigate’s people–though I hate a noisy chase; speak to him, Tom, and let us see if he will answer.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” cried the cockswain, sinking his body in such a manner as to let his head fall to a level with the cannon that he controlled, when, after divers orders and sundry movements to govern the direction of the piece, he applied a match, with a rapid motion, to the priming. An immense body of white smoke rushed from the muzzle of the cannon, followed by a sheet of vivid fire, until, losing its power, it yielded to the wind, and, as it rose from the water, spread like a cloud, and, passing through the masts of the schooner, was driven far to leeward, and soon blended in the mists which were swiftly scudding before the fresh breezes of the ocean.

Although many curious eyes were watching this beautiful sight from the cliffs, there was too little of novelty in the exhibition to attract a single look of the crew of the schooner from the more important examination of the effect of the shot on their enemy. Barnstable sprang lightly on a gun, and watched the instant when the ball would strike, with keen interest, while long Tom threw himself aside from the line of the smoke with a similar intention; holding one of his long arms extended toward his namesake, with a finger on the vent, and supporting his frame by placing the hand of the other on the deck, as his eyes glanced through an opposite port-hole, in an attitude that most men might have despaired of imitating with success.

“There go the chips!” cried Barnstable. “Bravo! Master Coffin, you never planted iron in the ribs of an English man with more judgment. Let him have another piece of it; and if he like the sport, we’ll play a game of long bowls with him!”

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the cockswain, who, the instant he witnessed the effects of his shot, had returned to superintend the reloading of his gun; “if he holds on half an hour longer, I’ll dub him down to our own size, when we can close, and make an even fight of it.”

The drum of the Englishman was now, for the first time, heard rattling across the waters, and echoing the call to quarters, that had already proceeded from the Ariel.

“Ay! you have sent him to his guns!” said Barnstable; “we shall now hear more of it; wake him up, Tom–wake him up.”

“We shall start him on end, or put him to sleep altogether, shortly,” said the deliberate cockswain, who never allowed himself to be at all hurried, even by his commander. My shot are pretty much like a shoal of porpoises, and commonly sail in each other’s wake. Stand by–heave her breech forward–so; get out of that, you damned young reprobate, and let my harpoon alone!”

“What are you at, there, Master Coffin?” cried Barnstable; “are you tongue-tied?”

“Here’s one of the boys skylarking with my harpoon in the lee-scuppers, and by and by, when I shall want it most, there’ll be a no-man’s land to hunt for it in.”

“Never mind the boy, Tom; send him aft here to me, and I’ll polish his behavior; give the Englishman some more iron.”

“I want the little villain to pass up my cartridges,” returned the angry old seaman; “but if you’ll be so good, sir, as to hit him a crack or two, now and then, as he goes by you to the magazine, the monkey will learn his manners, and the schooner’s work will be all the better done for it. A young herring-faced monkey! to meddle with a tool ye don’t know the use of. If your parents had spent more of their money on your edication, and less on your outfit, you’d ha’ been a gentleman to what ye are now.”

“Hurrah! Tom, hurrah!” cried Barnstable, a little impatiently; “is your namesake never to open his throat again!”

“Ay, ay, sir; all ready,” grumbled the cockswain; “depress a little; so –so; a damned young baboon-behaved curmudgeon; overhaul that forward fall more; stand by with your match–but I’ll pay him!–fire!” This was the actual commencement of the fight; for as the shot of Tom Coffin traveled, as he had intimated, very much in the same direction, their enemy found the sport becoming too hot to be endured in silence, and the report of the second gun from the Ariel was instantly followed by that of the whole broadside of the Alacrity. The shot of the cutter flew in a very good direction, but her guns were too light to give them efficiency at that distance; and as one or two were heard to strike against the bends of the schooner, and fall back, innocuously, into the water, the cockswain, whose good-humor became gradually restored as the combat thickened, remarked with his customary apathy:

“Them count for no more than love-taps–does the Englishman think that we are firing salutes!”

“Stir him up, Tom! every blow you give him will help to open his eyes,” cried Barnstable, rubbing his hands with glee, as he witnessed the success of his efforts to close.

Thus far the cockswain and his crew had the fight, on the part of the Ariel, altogether to themselves, the men who were stationed at the smaller and shorter guns standing in perfect idleness by their sides; but in ten or fifteen minutes the commander of the Alacrity, who had been staggered by the weight of the shot that had struck him, found that it was no longer in his power to retreat, if he wished it; when he decided on the only course that was left for a brave man to pursue, and steered boldly in such a direction as would soonest bring him in contact with his enemy, without exposing his vessel to be raked by his fire. Barnstable watched each movement of his foe with eagle eyes, and when the vessel had got within a lessened distance, he gave the order for a general fire to be opened. The action now grew warm and spirited on both sides. The power of the wind was counteracted by the constant explosion of the cannon; and, instead of driving rapidly to leeward, a white canopy of curling smoke hung above the Ariel, or rested on the water, lingering in her wake, so as to mark the path by which she was approaching to a closer and still deadlier struggle. The shouts of the young sailors, as they handled their instruments of death, became more animated and fierce, while the cockswain pursued his occupation with the silence and skill of one who labored in a regular vocation. Barnstable was unusually composed and quiet, maintaining the grave deportment of a commander on whom rested the fortunes of the contest, at the same time that his dark eyes were dancing with the fire of suppressed animation.

“Give it them!” he occasionally cried, in a voice that might be heard amid the bellowing of the cannon; “never mind their cordage, my lads; drive home their bolts, and make your marks below their ridge-ropes.”

In the mean time the Englishman played a manful game.

He had suffered a heavy loss by the distant cannonade, which no metal he possessed could retort upon his enemy; but he struggled nobly to repair the error in judgment with which he had begun the contest. The two vessels gradually drew nigher to each other, until they both entered into the common cloud created by their fire, which thickened and spread around them in such a manner as to conceal their dark hulls from the gaze of the curious and interested spectators on the cliffs. The heavy reports of the cannon were now mingled with the rattling of muskets and pistols, and streaks of fire might be seen glancing like flashes of lightning through the white cloud which enshrouded the combatants; and many minutes of painful uncertainty followed, before the deeply interested soldiers, who were gazing at the scene, discovered on whose banners victory had alighted.

We shall follow the combatants into their misty wreath, and display to the reader the events as they occurred.

The fire of the Ariel was much the most quick and deadly, both because she had suffered less, and her men were less exhausted; and the cutter stood desperately on to decide the combat, after grappling, hand to hand. Barnstable anticipated her intention and well understood her commander’s reason for adopting this course; but he was not a man to calculate coolly his advantages, when pride and daring invited him to a more severe trial. Accordingly, he met the enemy half-way, and, as the vessels rushed together, the stern of the schooner was secured to the bows of the cutter, by the joint efforts of both parties. The voice of the English commander was now plainly to be heard, in the uproar, calling to his men to follow him.

“Away there, boarders! repel boarders on the starboard quarter!” shouted Barnstable, through his trumpet.

This was the last order that the gallant young sailor gave with this instrument; for, as he spoke, he cast it from him, and, seizing his sabre, flew to the spot where the enemy was about to make his most desperate effort. The shouts, execrations, and tauntings of the combatants, now succeeded to the roar of the cannon, which could be used no longer with effect, though the fight was still maintained with spirited discharges of the small-arms.

“Sweep him from his decks!” cried the English commander, as he appeared on his own bulwarks, surrounded by a dozen of his bravest men; “drive the rebellious dogs into the sea!”

“Away there, marines!” retorted Barnstable, firing his pistol at the advancing enemy; “leave not a man of them to sup his grog again.”

The tremendous and close volley that succeeded this order nearly accomplished the command of Barnstable to the letter, and the commander of the Alacrity, perceiving that he stood alone, reluctantly fell back on the deck of his own vessel, in order to bring on his men once more.

“Board her! graybeards and boys, idlers and all!” shouted Barnstable, springing in advance of his crew–a powerful arm arrested the movement of the dauntless seaman, and before he had time to recover himself, he was drawn violently back to his own vessel by the irresistible grasp of his cockswain.

“The fellow’s in his flurry,” said Tom, “and it wouldn’t be wise to go within reach of his flukes; but I’ll just step ahead and give him a set with my harpoon.”

Without waiting for a reply, the cockswain reared his tall frame on the bulwarks, and was in the attitude of stepping on board of his enemy, when a sea separated the vessels, and he fell with a heavy dash of the waters into the ocean. As twenty muskets and pistols were discharged at the instant he appeared, the crew of the Ariel supposed his fall to be occasioned by his wounds, and were rendered doubly fierce by the sight, and the cry of their commander to:

“Revenge long Tom! board her! long Tom or death!”

They threw themselves forward in irresistible numbers, and forced a passage, with much bloodshed, to the forecastle of the Alacrity. The Englishman was overpowered, but still remained undaunted–he rallied his crew, and bore up most gallantly to the fray. Thrusts of pikes and blows of sabres were becoming close and deadly, while muskets and pistols were constantly discharged by those who were kept at a distance by the pressure of the throng of closer combatants.

Barnstable led his men in advance, and became a mark of peculiar vengeance to his enemies, as they slowly yielded before his vigorous assaults. Chance had placed the two commanders on opposite sides of the cutter’s deck, and the victory seemed to incline towards either party, whenever these daring officers directed the struggle in person. But the Englishman, perceiving that the ground he maintained in person was lost elsewhere, made an effort to restore the battle, by changing his position, followed by one or two of his best men. A marine, who preceded him, leveled his musket within a few feet of the head of the American commander, and was about to fire, when Merry glided among the combatants, and passed his dirk into the body of the man, who fell at the blow; shaking his piece, with horrid imprecations, the wounded soldier prepared to deal his vengeance on his youthful assailant, when the fearless boy leaped within its muzzle, and buried his own keen weapon in his heart.

“Hurrah!” shouted the unconscious Barnstable, from the edge of the quarter-deck, where, attended by a few men, he was driving all before him. “Revenge!–long Tom and victory!”

“We have them!” exclaimed the Englishman; “handle your pikes! we have them between two fires.”

The battle would probably have terminated very differently from what previous circumstances had indicated, had not a wild-looking figure appeared in the cutter’s channels at that moment, issuing from the sea, and gaining the deck at the same instant. It was long Tom, with his iron visage rendered fierce by his previous discomfiture, and his grizzled locks drenched with the briny element from which he had risen, looking like Neptune with his trident. Without speaking, he poised his harpoon, and, with a powerful effort, pinned the unfortunate Englishman to the mast of his own vessel.

“Starn all!” cried Tom by a sort of instinct, when the blow was struck; and catching up the musket of the fallen marine, he dealt out terrible and fatal blows with its butt on all who approached him, utterly disregarding the use of the bayonet on its muzzle. The unfortunate commander of the Alacrity brandished his sword with frantic gestures, while his eyes rolled in horrid wildness, when he writhed for an instant in his passing agonies, and then, as his head dropped lifeless upon his gored breast, he hung against the spar, a spectacle of dismay to his crew, A few of the Englishmen stood chained to the spot in silent horror at the sight, but most of them fled to their lower deck, or hastened to conceal themselves in the secret parts of the vessel, leaving to the Americans the undisputed possession of the Alacrity.

Two-thirds of the cutter’s crew suffered either in life or limbs, by this short struggle; nor was the victory obtained by Barnstable without paying the price of several valuable lives. The first burst of conquest was not, however, the moment to appreciate the sacrifice, and loud and reiterated shouts proclaimed the exultation of the conquerors. As the flush of victory subsided, however, recollection returned, and Barnstable issued such orders as humanity and his duty rendered necessary. While the vessels were separating, and the bodies of the dead and wounded were removing, the conqueror paced the deck of his prize, as if lost in deep reflection. He passed his hand, frequently, across his blackened and blood-stained brow, while his eyes would rise to examine the vast canopy of smoke that was hovering above the vessels, like a dense fog exhaling from the ocean. The result of his deliberations was soon announced to the crew.

“Haul down all your flags,” he cried; “set the Englishman’s colors again, and show the enemy’s jack above our ensign in the Ariel.”

The appearance of the whole channel-fleet within half gunshot would not have occasioned more astonishment among the victors than this extraordinary mandate. The wondering seamen suspended their several employments, to gaze at the singular change that was making in the flags, those symbols that were viewed with a sort of reverence; but none presumed to comment openly on the procedure except long Tom, who stood on the quarter-deck of the prize, straightening the pliable iron of the harpoon which be had recovered with as much care and diligence as if it were necessary to the maintenance of their conquest. Like the others, however, he suspended his employment when he heard this order, and manifested no reluctance to express his dissatisfaction at the measure.

“If the Englishmen grumble at the fight, and think it not fair play,” muttered the old cockswain, “let us try it over again, sir; as they are somewhat short of hands, they can send a boat to the land, and get off a gang of them lazy riptyles, the soldiers, who stand looking at us, like so many red lizards crawling on a beach, and we’ll give them another chance; but damme, if I see the use of whipping them, if this is to be the better end of the matter.”

“What’s that you’re grumbling there, like a dead northeaster, you horse- mackerel?” said Barnstable; “where are our friends and countrymen who are on the land? Are we to leave them to swing on gibbets or rot in dungeons?”

The cockswain listened with great earnestness, and when his commander had spoken, he struck the palm of his broad hand against his brawny thigh, with a report like a pistol, and answered:

“I see how it is, sir; you reckon the red-coats have Mr. Griffith in tow. Just run the schooner into shoal water, Captain Barnstable, and drop an anchor, where we can get the long gun to bear on them, and give me the whale-boat and five or six men to back me–they must have long legs if they get an offing before I run them aboard!”

“Fool! do you think a boat’s crew could contend with fifty armed soldiers?”

“Soldiers!” echoed Tom, whose spirits had been strongly excited by the conflict, snapping his fingers with ineffable disdain; “that for all the soldiers that were ever rigged: one whale could kill a thousand of them! and here stands the man that has killed his round hundred of whales!”

“Pshaw, you grampus, do you turn braggart in your old age?”

“It’s no bragging, sir, to speak a log-book truth! but if Captain Barnstable thinks that old Tom Coffin carries a speaking-trumpet for a figure-head, let him pass the word forrard to man the boats.”

“No, no, my old master at the marlinspike,” said Barnstable, kindly, “I know thee too well, thou brother of Neptune! but shall we not throw the bread-room dust in those Englishmen’s eyes, by wearing their bunting a while, till something may offer to help our captured countrymen.”

The cockswain shook his head and cogitated a moment, as if struck with sundry new ideas, when he answered:

“Ay, ay, sir; that’s blue-water philosophy: as deep as the sea! Let the riptyles clew up the corners of their mouths to their eyebrows, now! when they come to hear the ra’al Yankee truth of the matter, they will sheet them down to their leather neckcloths!”

With this reflection the cockswain was much consoled, and the business of repairing damages and securing the prize proceeded without further interruption on his part. The few prisoners who were unhurt were rapidly transferred to the Ariel. While Barnstable was attending to this duty, an unusual bustle drew his eyes to one of the hatchways, where he beheld a couple of his marines dragging forward a gentleman, whose demeanor and appearance indicated the most abject terror. After examining the extraordinary appearance of this individual, for a moment, in silent amazement, the lieutenant exclaimed:

“Who have we here? some amateur in fights! an inquisitive, wonder- seeking non-combatant, who has volunteered to serve his king, and perhaps draw a picture, or write a book, to serve himself! Pray, sir, in what capacity did you serve in this vessel?”

The captive ventured a sidelong glance at his interrogator, in whom he expected to encounter Griffith, but perceiving that it was a face he did not know, he felt a revival of confidence that enabled him to reply:

“I came here by accident; being on board the cutter at the time her late commander determined to engage you. It was not in his power to land me, as I trust you will not hesitate to do; your conjecture of my being a non-combatant–“

“Is perfectly true,” interrupted Barnstable; “it requires no spyglass to read that name written on you from stem to stern: but for certain weighty reasons–“

He paused to turn at a signal given him by young Merry, who whispered eagerly, in his ear:

“‘Tis Mr. Dillon, kinsman of Colonel Howard; I’ve seen him often, sailing in the wake of my cousin Cicely.”

“Dillon!” exclaimed Barnstable, rubbing his hands with pleasure; “what, Kit of that name! he with ‘the Savannah face, eyes of black, and skin of the same color?’ he’s grown a little whiter with fear; but he’s a prize, at this moment, worth twenty Alacrities!”

These exclamations were made in a low voice, and at some little distance from the prisoner, whom he now approached and addressed:

“Policy, and consequently duty, require that I should detain you for a short time, sir; but you shall have a sailor’s welcome to whatever we possess, to lessen the weight of captivity.”

Barnstable precluded any reply, by bowing to his captive, and turning away to superintend the management of his vessels. In a short time it was announced that they were ready to make sail, when the Ariel and her prize were brought close to the wind, and commenced beating slowly along the land, as if intending to return to the bay whence the latter had sailed that morning. As they stretched in to the shore on the first tack, the soldiers on the cliffs rent the air with their shouts and acclamations, to which Barnstable, pointing to the assumed symbols that were fluttering in the breeze from his masts, directed his crew to respond in the most cordial manner. As the distance, and the want of boats, prevented any further communication, the soldiers, after gazing at the receding vessels for a time, disappeared from the cliffs, and were soon lost from the sight of the adventurous mariners. Hour after hour was consumed in the tedious navigation, against an adverse tide, and the short day was drawing to a close, before they approached the mouth of their destined haven. While making one of their numerous stretches to and from the land, the cutter, in which Barnstable continued, passed the victim of their morning’s sport, riding on the water, the waves curling over his huge carcass as on some rounded rock, and already surrounded by the sharks, who were preying on his defenceless body.

“See! Master Coffin,” cried the lieutenant, pointing out the object to his cockswain as they glided by it, “the shovel-nosed gentlemen are regaling daintily: you have neglected the Christian’s duty of burying your dead.”

The old seaman cast a melancholy look at the dead whale and replied:

“If I had the creatur in Boston Bay, or on the Sandy Point of Munny-Moy, ‘twould be the making of me! But riches and honor are for the great and the larned, and there’s nothing left for poor Tom Coffin to do but to veer and haul on his own rolling-tackle, that he may ride out on the rest of the gale of life without springing any of his old spars.”