CHAPTER IV.
“Leander dived for love, Leucadia’s cliff The Lesbian Sappho leap’d from in a miff, To punish Phaon; Icarus went dead, Because the wax did not continue stiff; And, had he minded what his father said, He had not given a name unto his watery bed.”
Sands.
We must now advance the time several days, and change the scene to adistant part of the ocean; within the tropics indeed. The females hadsuffered slight attacks of sea-sickness, and recovered from them, andthe brig was safe from all her pursuers. The manner of Spike’s escapewas simple enough, and without any necromancy. While the steamer, on theone hand, was standing away to the northward and eastward, in order tohead him off, and the schooner was edging in with the island, in orderto prevent his beating up to windward of it, within its shadows, thebrig had run close round the northern margin of the land, and hauled upto leeward of the island, passing between it and the steamer. All thistime, her movements were concealed from the schooner by the islanditself, and from the steamer, by its shadow and dark back-ground,aided by the distance. By making short tacks, this expedient answeredperfectly well; and, at the very moment when the two revenue vesselsmet, at midnight, about three leagues to leeward of Blok Island, thebrigantine, Molly Swash, was just clearing its most weatherly point, onthe larboard tack, and coming out exactly at the spot where the steamerwas when first seen that afternoon. Spike stood to the westward, untilhe was certain of having the island fairly between him and his pursuers,when he went about, and filled away on his course, running out to seaagain on an easy bowline. At sunrise the next day he was fifty miles tothe southward and eastward of Montauk; the schooner was going into NewLondon, her officers and people quite chop-fallen; and the steamerwas paddling up the Sound, her captain being fully persuaded that therunaways had returned in the direction from which they had come, andmight yet be picked up in that quarter.
The weather was light, just a week after the events related in the closeof the last chapter. By this time the brig had got within the influenceof the trades; and, it being the intention of Spike to pass to thesouthward of Cuba, he had so far profited by the westerly winds, as toget well to the eastward of the Mona Passage, the strait through whichhe intended to shape his course on making the islands. Early on thatmorning Mrs. Budd had taken her seat on the trunk of the cabin, witha complacent air, and arranged her netting, some slight passages ofgallantry, on the part of the captain, having induced her to proposenetting him a purse. Biddy was going to and fro, in quest of silks andneedles, her mistress having become slightly capricious in her tastes oflate, and giving her, on all such occasions, at least a double allowanceof occupation. As for Rose, she sat reading beneath the shade of thecoach-house deck, while the handsome young mate was within three feetof her, working up his logarithms, but within the sanctuary of his ownstate-room; the open door and window of which, however, gave him everyfacility he could desire to relieve his mathematics, by gazing at thesweet countenance of his charming neighbor. Jack Tier and Josh were bothpassing to and fro, as is the wont of stewards, between the cambooseand the cabin, the breakfast table being just then in the course ofpreparation. In all other respects, always excepting the man at thewheel, who stood within a fathom of Rose, Spike had the quarter-deckto himself, and did not fail to pace its weather-side with an air thatdenoted the master and owner. After exhibiting his sturdy, but short,person in this manner, to the admiring eyes of all beholders, for sometime, the captain suddenly took a seat at the side of the relict, anddropped into the following discourse.
“The weather is moderate, Madam Budd; quite moderate,” observed Spike,a sentimental turn coming over him at the moment. “What I call moderateand agreeable.”
“So much the better for us; the ladies are fond of moderation, sir.”
“Not in admiration, Madam Budd--ha! ha! ha! no, not in admiration.Immoderation is what they like when it comes to that. I’m a single man,but I know that the ladies like admiration--mind where you’re sheeringto,” the captain said, interrupting himself a little fiercely,considering the nature of the subject, in consequence of Jack Tier’shaving trodden on his toe in passing--“or I’ll teach you the navigationof the quarter-deck, Mr. Burgoo!”
“Moderation--moderation, my good captain,” said the simpering relict.“As to admiration, I confess that it is agreeable to us ladies; moreespecially when it comes from gentlemen of sense, and intelligence, andexperience.”
Rose fidgeted, having heard every word that was said, and her faceflushed; for she doubted not that Harry’s ears were as good as her own.As for the man at the wheel, he turned the tobacco over in his mouth,hitched up his trousers, and appeared interested, though somewhatmystified--the conversation was what he would have termed “talkingdictionary,” and he had some curiosity to learn how the captain wouldwork his way out of it. It is probable that Spike himself had somesimilar gleamings of the difficulties of his position, for he lookeda little troubled, though still resolute. It was the first time hehad ever lain yard-arm and yard-arm with a widow, and he had longentertained a fancy that such a situation was trying to the best of men.
“Yes, Madam Budd, yes,” he said, “exper’ence and sense carry weight with‘em, wherever they go. I’m glad to find that you entertain these justnotions of us gentlemen, and make a difference between boys and themthat’s seen and known exper’ence. For my part, I count youngsters underforty as so much lumber about decks, as to any comfort and calculationsin keepin’ a family, as a family ought to be kept.”
Mrs. Budd looked interested, but she remained silent on hearing thisremark, as became her sex.
“Every man ought to settle in life, some time or other, Madam Budd,accordin’ to my notion, though no man ought to be in a boyish hasteabout it,” continued the captain. “Now, in my own case, I’ve been sobusy all my youth--not that I’m very old now, but I’m no boy--but all myyounger days have been passed in trying to make things meet, in a way toput any lady who might take a fancy to me--”
“Oh! captain--that is too strong! The ladies do not take fancies forgentlemen, but the gentlemen take fancies for ladies!”
“Well, well, you know what I mean, Madam Budd; and so long as theparties understand each other, a word dropped, or a word put into acharter-party, makes it neither stronger nor weaker. There’s a time,howsomever, in every man’s life, when he begins to think of settlingdown, and of considerin’ himself as a sort of mooring-chain, forchildren and the likes of them to make fast to. Such is my natur’, Iwill own; and ever since I’ve got to be intimate in your family, MadamBudd, that sentiment has grown stronger and stronger in me, till it hasgot to be uppermost in all my idees. Bone of my bone, and flesh of myflesh, as a body might say.”
Mrs. Budd now looked more than interested, for she looked a littleconfused, and Rose began to tremble for her aunt. It was evident thatthe parties most conspicuous in this scene were not at all consciousthat they were overheard, the intensity of their attention being toomuch concentrated on what was passing to allow of any observationwithout their own narrow circle. What may be thought still moreextraordinary, but what in truth was the most natural of all, each ofthe parties was so intently bent on his, or her, own train of thought,that neither in the least suspected any mistake.
“Grown with your growth, and strengthened with your strength,” rejoinedthe relict, smiling kindly enough on the captain to have encouraged amuch more modest man than he happened to be.
“Yes, Madam Budd--very just that remark; grown with my strength, andstrengthened with my growth, as one might say; though I’ve not done muchat growing for a good many years. Your late husband, Captain Budd,often remarked how very early I got my growth; and rated me as an‘able-bodied’ hand, when most lads think it an honour to be placed amongthe ‘or’naries.’”
The relict looked grave; and she wondered at any man’s being so singularas to allude to a first husband, at the very moment he was thinking ofoffering himself for a second. As for herself, she had not utteredas m
any words in the last four years, as she had uttered in that veryconversation, without making some allusion to her “poor dear Mr. Budd.” The reader is not to do injustice to the captain’s widow, however, bysupposing for a moment that she was actually so weak as to feel anytenderness for a man like Spike, which would be doing a great wrongto both her taste and her judgment, as Rose well knew, even whilemost annoyed by the conversation she could not but overhear. All thatinfluenced the good relict was that besetting weakness of her sex, whichrenders admiration so universally acceptable; and predisposes a female,as it might be, to listen to a suitor with indulgence, and some littleshow of kindness, even when resolute to reject him. As for Rose, to ownthe truth, her aunt did not give her a thought, as yet, notwithstandingSpike was getting to be so sentimental.
“Yes, your late excellent and honourable consort always said that I gotmy growth sooner than any youngster he ever fell in with,” resumed thecaptain, after a short pause; exciting fresh wonder in his companion,that he would persist in lugging in the “dear departed” so veryunseasonably. “I am a great admirer of all the Budd family, my goodlady, and only wish my connection with it had never tarminated; iftarminated it can be called.”
“It need not be terminated, Captain Spike, so long as friendship existsin the human heart.”
“Ay, so it is always with you ladies; when a man is bent on suthin’closer and more interestin’ like, you’re for putting it off onfriendship. Now friendship is good enough in its way, Madam Budd, butfriendship is n’t love.”
“Love!” echoed the widow, fairly starting, though she looked down at hernetting, and looked as confused as she knew how. “That is a very decidedword, Captain Spike, and should never be mentioned to a woman’s earlightly.”
So the captain now appeared to think, too, for no sooner had hedelivered himself of the important monosyllable, than he left thewidow’s side, and began to pace the deck, as it might be to moderatehis own ardour. As for Rose, she blushed, if her more practised aunt didnot; while Harry Mulford laughed heartily, taking good care, however,not to be heard. The man at the wheel turned the tobacco again, gave histrousers another hitch, and wondered anew whither the skipper was bound.But the drollest manifestation of surprise came from Josh, the steward,who was passing along the lee-side of the quarter-deck, with a tea-potin his hand, when the energetic manner of the captain sent the words“friendship is n’t love” to his ears. This induced him to stop for asingle instant, and to cast a wondering glance behind him; after whichhe moved on toward the galley, mumbling as he went--“Lub! what he wantof lub, or what lub want of him! Well, I do t’ink Captain Spike bowsehis jib out pretty ‘arly dis mornin’.”
Captain Spike soon got over the effects of his effort, and the confusionof the relict did not last any material length of time. As the formerhad gone so far, however, he thought the present an occasion as good asanother to bring matters to a crisis.
“Our sentiments sometimes get to be so strong, Madam Budd,” resumed thelover, as he took his seat again on the trunk, “that they run away withus. Men is liable to be run away with as well as ladies. I once had aship run away with me, and a pretty time we had of it. Did you ever hearof a ship’s running away with her people, Madam Budd, just as your horseran away with your buggy?”
“I suppose I must have heard of such things, sir, my education havingbeen so maritime, though just at this moment I cannot recall aninstance. When my horse ran away, the buggy was cap-asided. Did yourvessel cap-aside on the occasion you mention?”
“No, Madam Budd, no. The ship was off the wind at the time I mean, andvessels do not capsize when off the wind. I’ll tell you how it happened.We was a scuddin’ under a goose-wing foresail--”
“Yes, yes,” interrupted the relict, eagerly. “I’ve often heard of thatsail, which is small, and used only in tempests.”
“Heavy weather, Madam Budd--only in heavy weather.”
“It is amazing to me, captain, how you seamen manage to weigh theweather. I have often heard of light weather and heavy weather, butnever fairly understood the manner of weighing it.”
“Why we do make out to ascertain the difference,” replied the captain, alittle puzzled for an answer; “and I suppose it must be by means of thebarometer, which goes up and down like a pair of scales. But the time Imean, we was a scuddin’ under a goose-wing foresail--”
“A sail made of goose’s wings, and a beautiful object it must be; likesome of the caps and cloaks that come from the islands, which are allof feathers, and charming objects are they. I beg pardon--you had yourgoose’s wings spread--”
“Yes, Madam Budd, yes; we was steering for a Mediterranean port,intending to clear a mole-head, when a sea took us under thelarboard-quarter, gave us such a sheer to-port as sent our cat-headag’in a spile, and raked away the chain-plates of the top-mastback-stays, bringing down all the forrard hamper about our ears.”
This description produced such a confusion in the mind of the widow,that she was glad when it came to an end. As for the captain, fearfulthat the “goose’s wings” might be touched upon again, he thought itwisest to attempt another flight on those of Cupid.
“As I was sayin’, Madam Budd, friendship is n’t love; no, not a bit ofit! Friendship is a common sort of feelin’: but love, as you must knowby exper’ence, Madam Budd, is an uncommon sort of feelin’.”
“Fie, Captain Spike, gentlemen should never allude to ladies knowingany thing about love. Ladies respect, and admire, and esteem, and havea regard for gentlemen; but it is almost too strong to talk about theirlove.”
“Yes, Madam Budd, yes; I dare say it is so, and ought to be so; and Iask pardon for having said as much as I did. But my love for your nieceis of so animated and lastin’ a natur’, that I scarce know what I didsay.”
“Captain Spike, you amaze me! I declare I can hardly breathe forastonishment. My niece! Surely you do not mean Rosy!”
“Who else should I mean? My love for Miss Rose is so very decidedand animated, I tell you, Madam Budd, that I will not answer for theconsequences, should you not consent to her marryin’ me.”
“I can scarce believe my ears! You, Stephen Spike, and an old friend ofher uncle’s, wishing to marry his niece!”
“Just so, Madam Budd; that’s it, to a shavin’. The regard I have for thewhole family is so great, that nothin’ less than the hand of Miss Rosein marriage can, what I call, mitigate my feelin’s.”
Now the relict had not one spark of tenderness herself in behalf ofSpike; while she did love Rose better than any human being, her own selfexcepted. But she had viewed all the sentiment of that morning, and allthe fine speeches of the captain, very differently from what the presentstate of things told her she ought to have viewed them; and she felt themortification natural to her situation. The captain was so much bent onthe attainment of his own object, that he saw nothing else, and was evenunconscious that his extraordinary and somewhat loud discourse had beenoverheard. Least of all did he suspect that his admiration had beenmistaken; and that in what he called “courtin’” the niece, he had beenall the while “courtin’” the aunt. But little apt as she was to discoverany thing, Mrs. Budd had enough of her sex’s discernment in a matter ofthis sort, to perceive that she had fallen into an awkward mistake, andenough of her sex’s pride to resent it. Taking her work in her hand, sheleft her seat, and descended to the cabin, with quite as much dignityin her manner as it was in the power of one of her height and “build” to express. What is the most extraordinary, neither she nor Spikeever ascertained that their whole dialogue had been overheard. Spikecontinued to pace the quarter-deck for several minutes, scarce knowingwhat to think of the relict’s manner, when his attention was suddenlydrawn to other matters by the familiar cry of “sail-ho!”
This was positively the first vessel with which the Molly Swash hadfallen in since she lost sight of two or three craft that had passedher in the distance, as she left the American coast. As usual, this crybrought all hands on deck, and Mulford out of his
state-room.
It has been stated already that the brig was just beginning to feelthe trades, and it might have been added, to see the mountains of SanDomingo. The winds had been variable for the last day or two, andthey still continued light, and disposed to be unsteady, ranging fromnorth-east to south-east, with a preponderance in favour of the firstpoint. At the cry of “sail-ho!” everybody looked in the indicateddirection, which was west, a little northerly, but for a long timewithout success. The cry had come from aloft, and Mulford went up ashigh as the fore-top before he got any glimpse of the stranger at all.He had slung a glass, and Spike was unusually anxious to know the resultof his examination.
“Well, Mr. Mulford, what do you make of her?” he called out as soon asthe mate announced that he saw the strange vessel.
“Wait a moment, sir, till I get a look,--she’s a long way off, andhardly visible.”
“Well, sir, well?”
“I can only see the heads of her top-gallant sails. She seems a shipsteering to the southward, with as many kites flying as an Indiaman inthe trades. She looks as if she were carrying royal stun’-sails, sir.”
“The devil she does! Such a chap must not only be in a hurry, but hemust be strong-handed to give himself all this trouble in such light andvar’able winds. Are his yards square?--Is he man-of-war-ish?”
“There’s no telling, sir, at this distance; though I rather think itsstun’-sails that I see. Go down and get your breakfast, and in half anhour I’ll give a better account of him.”
This was done, Mrs. Budd appearing at the table with great dignityin her manner. Although she had so naturally supposed that Spike’sattentions had been intended for herself, she was rather mortified thanhurt on discovering her mistake. Her appetite, consequently, was notimpaired, though her stomach might have been said to be very full.The meal passed off without any scene, notwithstanding, and Spike soonre-appeared on deck, still masticating the last mouthful like a man ina hurry, and a good deal, l’Amricaine. Mulford saw his arrival, andimmediately levelled his glass again.
“Well, what news now, sir?” called out the captain. “You must have abetter chance at him by this time, for I can see the chap from off thecoach-house here.”
“Ay, ay, sir; he’s a bit nearer, certainly. I should say that craft is aship under stun’-sails, looking to the eastward of south, and that thereare caps with gold bands on her quarter-deck.”
“How low down can you see her?” demanded Spike, in a voice of thunder.
So emphatic and remarkable was the captain’s manner in putting thisquestion, that the mate cast a look of surprise beneath him ere heanswered it. A look with the glass succeeded, when the reply was given.
“Ay, ay, sir; there can be no mistake--it’s a cruiser, you may depend onit. I can see the heads of her topsails now, and they are so square andsymmetrical, that gold bands are below beyond all doubt.”
“Perhaps he’s a Frenchman--Johnny Crapaud keeps cruisers in these seasas well as the rest on’em.”
“Johnny Crapaud’s craft don’t spread such arms, sir. The ship is eitherEnglish or American; and he’s heading for the Mona Passage as well asourselves.”
“Come down, sir, come down--there’s work to be done as soon as you havebreakfasted.”
Mulford did come down, and he was soon seated at the table, with bothJosh and Jack Tier for attendants. The aunt and the niece were in theirown cabin, a few yards distant, with the door open.
“What a fuss’e cap’in make ‘bout dat sail,” grumbled Josh, who had beenin the brig so long that he sometimes took liberties with even Spikehimself. “What good he t’ink t’will do to measure him inch by inch?Bye’m by he get alongside, and den ‘e ladies even can tell all abouthim.”
“He nat’rally wishes to know who gets alongside,” put in Tier, somewhatapologetically.
“What matter dat. All sort of folk get alongside of Molly Swash; andwhat good it do ‘em? Yoh! yoh! yoh! I do remem’er sich times vid’e olehussy!”
“What old hussy do you mean?” demanded Jack Tier a little fiercely, andin a way to draw Mulford’s eyes from the profile of Rose’s face to thevisages of his two attendants.
“Come, come, gentlemen, if you please; recollect where you are,” interrupted the mate authoritatively. “You are not now squabbling inyour galley, but are in the cabin. What is it to you, Tier, if Josh doescall the brig an old hussy; she is old, as we all know, and yearsare respectable; and as for her being a ‘hussy,’ that is a term ofendearment sometimes. I’ve heard the captain himself call the Molly a‘hussy,’ fifty times, and he loves her as he does the apple of his eye.”
This interference put an end to the gathering storm as a matter ofcourse, and the two disputants shortly after passed on deck. No soonerwas the coast clear than Rose stood in the door of her own cabin.
“Do you think the strange vessel is an American?” she asked eagerly.
“It is impossible to say--English or American I make no doubt. But whydo you inquire?”
“But my aunt and myself desire to quit the brig, and if the strangershould prove to be an American vessel of war, might not the occasion befavourable?”
“And what reason can you give for desiring to do so?”
“What signifies a reason,” answered Rose with spirit. “Spike is not ourmaster, and we can come and go as we may see fit.”
“But a reason must be given to satisfy the commander of the vessel ofwar. Craft of that character are very particular about the passengersthey receive; nor would it be altogether wise in two unprotectedfemales to go on board a cruiser, unless in a case of the most obviousnecessity.”
“Will not what has passed this morning be thought a sufficient reason,” added Rose, drawing nearer to the mate, and dropping her voice so as notto be heard by her aunt.
Mulford smiled as he gazed at the earnest but attractive countenance ofhis charming companion.
“And who could tell it, or how could it be told? Would the commander ofa vessel of war incur the risk of receiving such a person as yourself onboard his vessel, for the reason that the master of the craft she was inwhen he fell in with her desired to marry her?”
Rose appeared vexed, but she was at once made sensible that it was notquite as easy to change her vessel at sea, as to step into a strangedoor in a town. She drew slowly back into her own cabin silent andthoughtful; her aunt pursuing her netting the whole time with an air ofdignified industry.
“Well, Mr. Mulford, well,” called out Spike at the head of the cabinstairs, “what news from the coffee?”
“All ready, sir,” answered the mate, exchanging significant glances withRose. “I shall be up in a moment.”
That moment soon came, and Mulford was ready for duty. While below,Spike had caused certain purchases to be got aloft, and the main-hatchwas open and the men collected around it, in readiness to proceed withthe work. Harry asked no questions, for the preparations told him whatwas about to be done, but passing below, he took charge of the dutythere, while the captain superintended the part that was conducted ondeck. In the course of the next hour eight twelve-pound carronades weresent up out of the hold, and mounted in as many of the ports which linedthe bulwarks of the brigantine. The men seemed to be accustomed to thesort of work in which they were now engaged, and soon had their lightbatteries in order, and ready for service. In the mean time the twovessels kept on their respective courses, and by the time the guns weremounted, there was a sensible difference in their relative positions.The stranger had drawn so near the brigantine as to be very obvious fromthe latter’s deck, while the brigantine had drawn so much nearer to theislands of San Domingo and Porto Rico, as to render the opening betweenthem, the well-known Mona Passage, distinctly visible.
Of all this Spike appeared to be fully aware, for he quitted the workseveral times before it was finished, in order to take a look at thestranger, and at the land. When the batteries were arranged, he andMulford, each provided with a glass, gave a few minutes to a moredeliberate exami
nation of the first.
“That’s the Mona ahead of us,” said the captain; “of that there can beno question, and a very pretty land-fall you’ve made of it, Harry. I’llallow you to be as good a navigator as floats.”
“Nevertheless, sir, you have not seen fit to let me know whither thebrig is really bound this voyage.”
“No matter for that, young man--no matter, as yet. All in good time.When I tell you to lay your course for the Mona, you can lay your coursefor the Mona; and, as soon as we are through the passage, I’ll let youknow what is wanted next--if that bloody chap, who is nearing us, willlet me.”
“And why should any vessel wish to molest us on our passage, CaptainSpike?”
“Why, sure enough! It’s war-times, you know, and war-times always bringtrouble to the trader--though it sometimes brings profit, too.”
As Spike concluded, he gave his mate a knowing wink, which the otherunderstood to mean that he expected himself some of the unusual profitto which he alluded. Mulford did not relish this secret communication,for the past had induced him to suspect the character of the trade inwhich his commander was accustomed to engage. Without making any sortof reply, or encouraging the confidence by even a smile, he levelled hisglass at the stranger, as did Spike, the instant he ceased to grin.
“That’s one of Uncle Sam’s fellows!” exclaimed the captain, dropping theglass. “I’d swear to the chap in any admiralty court on ‘arth.”
“‘T is a vessel of war, out of all doubt,” returned the mate, “and undera cloud of canvas. I can make out the heads of her courses now, and seethat she is carrying hard, for a craft that is almost close-hauled.”
“Ay, ay; no merchantmen keeps his light stun’-sails set, as near thewind as that fellow’s going. He’s a big chap, too--a frigate, at least,by his canvas.”
“I do not know, sir--they build such heavy corvettes now-a-days, that Ishould rather take her for one of them. They tell me ships are now sentto sea which mount only two-and-twenty guns, but which measure quite athousand tons.”
“With thunderin’ batteries, of course.”
“With short thirty-twos and a few rapping sixty-eight Paixhans--orColumbiads, as they ought in justice to be called.”
“And you think this chap likely to be a craft of that sort?”
“Nothing is more probable, sir. Government has several, and, since thiswar has commenced, it has been sending off cruiser after cruiser intothe Gulf. The Mexicans dare not send a vessel of war to sea, which wouldbe sending them to Norfolk, or New York, at once; but no one can saywhen they may begin to make a prey of our commerce.”
“They have taken nothing as yet, Mr. Mulford, and, to tell you thetruth, I’d much rather fall in with one of Don Montezuma’s craft thanone of Uncle Sam’s.”
“That is a singular taste, for an American, Captain Spike, unless youthink, now our guns are mounted, we can handle a Mexican,” returnedMulford coldly. “At all events, it is some answer to those who ask ‘Whatis the navy about?’ that months of war have gone by, and not an Americanhas been captured. Take away that navy, and the insurance offices inWall-street would tumble like a New York party-wall in a fire.”
“Nevertheless, I’d rather take my chance, just now, with Don Montezumathan with Uncle Sam.”
Mulford did not reply, though the earnest manner in which Spikeexpressed himself, helped to increase his distrust touching the natureof the voyage. With him the captain had no further conference, but itwas different as respects the boatswain. That worthy was called aft, andfor half an hour he and Spike were conversing apart, keeping their eyesfastened on the strange vessel most of the time.
It was noon before all uncertainly touching the character of thestranger ceased. By that time, however, both vessels were entering theMona Passage; the brig well to windward, on the Porto Rico side; whilethe ship was so far to leeward as to be compelled to keep everythingclose-hauled, in order to weather the island. The hull of the last couldnow be seen, and no doubt was entertained about her being a cruiser,and one of some size, too. Spike thought she was a frigate; but Mulfordstill inclined to the opinion that she was one of the new ships; perhapsa real corvette, or with a light spar-deck over her batteries. Two orthree of the new vessels were known to be thus fitted, and this might beone. At length all doubt on the subject ceased, the stranger setting anAmerican ensign, and getting so near as to make it apparent that she hadbut a single line of guns. Still she was a large ship, and the mannerthat she ploughed through the brine, close-hauled as she was, extortedadmiration even from Spike.
“We had better begin to shorten sail, Mr. Mulford,” the captain atlength most reluctantly remarked. “We might give the chap the slip,perhaps, by keeping close in under Porto Rico, but he would give us along chase, and might drive us away to windward, when I wish to keep offbetween Cuba and Jamaica. He’s a traveller; look, how he stands up to itunder that could of canvas!”
Mulford was slow to commence on the studding-sails, and the cruiser wasgetting nearer and nearer. At length a gun was fired, and a heavy shotfell about two hundred yards short of the brig, and a little out of linewith her. On this hint, Spike turned the hands up, and began to shortensail. In ten minutes the Swash was under her topsail, mainsail and jib,with her light sails hanging in the gear, and all the steering canvasin. In ten minutes more the cruiser was so near as to admit of the facesof the three or four men whose heads were above the hammock-clothsbeing visible, when she too began to fold her wings. In went her royals,topgallant-sails, and various kites, as it might be by some commonmuscular agency; and up went her courses. Everything was done at once.By this time she was crossing the brig’s wake, looking exceedinglybeautiful, with her topsails lifting, her light sails blowing out, andeven her heavy courses fluttering in the breeze. There flew the gloriousstars and stripes also; of brief existence, but full of recollections!The moment she had room, her helm went up, her bows fell off, and downshe came, on the weather quarter of the Swash, so near as to render atrumpet nearly useless.
On board the brig everybody was on deck; even the relict havingforgotten her mortification in curiosity. On board the cruiser no onewas visible, with the exception of a few men in each top, and a group ofgold-banded caps on the poop. Among these officers stood the captain, ared-faced, middle-aged man, with the usual signs of his rank about him;and at his side was his lynx-eyed first lieutenant. The surgeon andpurser were also there, though they stood a little apart from the morenautical dignitaries. The hail that followed came out of a trumpet thatwas thrust through the mizzen-rigging; the officer who used it takinghis cue from the poop.
“What brig is that?” commenced the discourse.
“The Molly Swash, of New York, Stephen Spike, master.”
“Where from, and whither bound?”
“From New York, and bound to Key West and a market.”
A pause succeeded this answer, during which the officers on the poopof the cruiser held some discourse with him of the trumpet. During theinterval the cruiser ranged fairly up abeam.
“You are well to windward of your port, sir,” observed he of the trumpetsignificantly.
“I know it; but it’s war times, and I didn’t know but there might bepiccaroons hovering about the Havanna.”
“The coast is clear, and our cruisers will keep it so. I see you have abattery, sir!”
“Ay, ay; some old guns that I’ve had aboard these ten years: they’reuseful, sometimes, in these seas.”
“Very true. I’ll range ahead of you, and as soon as you’ve room, I’llthank you to heave-to. I wish to send a boat on board you.”
Spike was sullen enough on receiving this order, but there was no helpfor it. He was now in the jaws of the lion, and his wisest course wasto submit to the penalties of his position with the best grace he could.The necessary orders were consequently given, and the brig no sooner gotroom than she came by the wind and backed her topsail. The cruiser wentabout, and passing to windward, backed her main-topsail just forward ofthe Swash
’s beam. Then the latter lowered a boat, and sent it, witha lieutenant and a midshipman in its stern-sheets, on board thebrigantine. As the cutter approached, Spike went to the gangway toreceive the strangers.
Although there will be frequent occasion to mention this cruiser, thecircumstances are of so recent occurrence, that we do not choose togive either her name, or that of any one belonging to her. We shall,consequently, tell the curious, who may be disposed to turn to theirnavy-lists and blue-books, that the search will be of no use, as all thenames we shall use, in reference to this cruiser, will be fictitious.As much of the rest of our story as the reader please may be taken forgospel; but we tell him frankly, that we have thought it most expedientto adopt assumed names, in connection with this vessel and all herofficers. There are good reasons for so doing; and, among others, isthat of abstaining from arming a clique to calumniate her commander,(who, by the way, like another commander in the Gulf that might benamed, and who has actually been exposed to the sort of tracasserie towhich there is allusion, is one of the very ablest men in the service,)in order to put another in his place.
The officer who now came over the side of the Swash we shall callWallace; he was the second lieutenant of the vessel of war. He was aboutthirty, and the midshipman who followed him was a well-grown lad ofnineteen. Both had a decided man-of-war look, and both looked a littlecuriously at the vessel they had boarded.
“Your servant, sir,” said Wallace, touching his cap in reply to Spike’ssomewhat awkward bow. “Your brig is the Molly Swash, Stephen Spike,bound from New York to Key West and a market.”
“You’ve got it all as straight, lieutenant, as if you was a readin’ itfrom the log.”
“The next thing, sir, is to know of what your cargo is composed?”
“Flour; eight hundred barrels of flour.”
“Flour! Would you not do better to carry that to Liverpool? TheMississippi must be almost turned into paste by the quantity of flour itfloats to market.”
“Notwithstanding that, lieutenant, I know Uncle Sam’s economy sowell, as to believe I shall part with every barrel of my flour to hiscontractors, at a handsome profit.”
“You read Whig newspapers principally, I rather think, Mr. Spike,” answered Wallace, in his cool, deliberate way, smiling, however, as hespoke.
We may just as well say here, that nature intended this gentleman fora second lieutenant, the very place he filled. He was a capital secondlieutenant, while he would not have earned his rations as first. So wellwas he assured of this peculiarity in his moral composition, that he didnot wish to be the first lieutenant of anything in which he sailed.A respectable seaman, a well-read and intelligent man, a capital deckofficer, or watch officer, he was too indolent to desire to be anythingmore, and was as happy as the day was long, in the easy berth he filled.The first lieutenant had been his messmate as a midshipman, and rankedhim but two on the list in his present commission; but he did not envyhim in the least. On the contrary, one of his greatest pleasures was toget. “Working Willy,” as he called his senior, over a glass of wine, ora tumbler of “hot stuff,” and make him recount the labours of the day.On such occasions, Wallace never failed to compare the situation of“Working Willy” with his own gentlemanlike ease and independence. Assecond lieutenant, his rank raised him above most of the unpleasant dutyof the ship, while it did not raise him high enough to plunge him intothe never-ending labours of his senior. He delighted to call himself the“ship’s gentleman,” a sobriquet he well deserved, on more accounts thanone.
“You read Whig newspapers principally, I rather think, Mr. Spike,” answered the lieutenant, as has been just mentioned, “while we on boardthe Poughkeepsie indulge in looking over the columns of the Union, aswell as over those of the Intelligencer, when by good luck we can layour hands on a stray number.”
“That ship, then, is called the Poughkeepsie, is she, sir?” inquiredSpike.
“Such is her name, thanks to a most beneficent and sage provision ofCongress, which has extended its parental care over the navy so far asto imagine that a man chosen by the people to exercise so many of thefunctions of a sovereign, is not fit to name a ship. All our two andthree deckers are to be called after states; the frigates after rivers;and the sloops after towns. Thus it is that our craft has the honourto be called the United States ship the ‘Poughkeepsie,’ instead ofthe ‘Arrow,’ or the ‘Wasp,’ or the ‘Curlew,’ or the ‘Petrel,’ as mightotherwise have been the case. But the wisdom of Congress is manifest,for the plan teaches us sailors geography.”
“Yes, sir, yes, one can pick up a bit of l’arnin’ in that way cheap. ThePoughkeepsie, Captain--?”
“The United States’ ship Poughkeepsie, 20, Captain Adam Mull, at yourservice. But, Mr. Spike, you will allow me to look at your papers. It isa duty I like, for it can be performed quietly, and without any fuss.”
Spike looked distrustfully at his new acquaintance, but went for hisvessel’s papers without any very apparent hesitation. Every thing wasen regle, and Wallace soon got through with the clearance, manifest,&c. Indeed the cargo, on paper at least, was of the simplest and leastcomplicated character, being composed of nothing but eight hundredbarrels of flour.
“It all looks very well on paper, Mr. Spike,” added the boardingofficer. “With your permission, we will next see how it looks in soberreality. I perceive your main hatch is open, and I suppose it will be nodifficult matter just to take a glance at your hold.”
“Here is a ladder, sir, that will take us at once to the half-deck, forI have no proper ‘twixt decks in this craft; she’s too small for thatsort of outfit.”
“No matter, she has a hold, I suppose, and that can contain cargo. Takeme to it by the shortest road, Mr. Spike, for I am no great admirer oftrouble.”
Spike now led the way below, Wallace following, leaving the midshipmanon deck, who had fallen into conversation with the relict and herpretty niece. The half-deck of the brigantine contained spare sails,provisions, and water, as usual, while quantities of old canvas layscattered over the cargo; more especially in the wake of the hatches, ofwhich there were two besides that which led from the quarter-deck.
“Flour to the number of eight hundred barrels,” said Wallace, strikinghis foot against a barrel that lay within his reach. “The cargo issomewhat singular to come from New York, going to Key West, my dearSpike?”
“I suppose you know what sort of a place Key West is, sir; a bit of anisland in which there is scarce so much as a potatoe grows.”
“Ay, ay, sir; I know Key West very well, having been in and out a dozentimes. All eatables are imported, turtle excepted. But flour can bebrought down the Mississippi so much cheaper than it can be brought fromNew York.”
“Have you any idee, lieutenant, what Uncle Sam’s men are paying forit at New Orleens, just to keep soul and bodies together among theso’gers?”
“That may be true, sir--quite true, I dare say, Mr. Spike. Have n’t youa bit of a chair that a fellow can sit down on--this half-deck ofyour’s is none of the most comfortable places to stand in. Thank you,sir--thank you with all my heart. What lots of old sails you havescattered about the hold, especially in the wake of the hatches!”
“Why, the craft being little more than in good ballast trim, I keep thehatches off to air her; and the spray might spit down upon the flour atodd times but for them ‘ere sails.”
“Ay, a prudent caution. So you think Uncle Sam’s people will be afterthis flour as soon as they learn you have got it snug in at Key West?”
“What more likely, sir? You know how it is with our government--alwayswrong, whatever it does! and I can show you paragraphs in letterswritten from New Orleens, which tell us that Uncle Sam is payingseventy-five and eighty per cent. more for flour than anybody else.”
“He must be a flush old chap to be able to do that, Spike.”
“Flush! I rather think he is. Do you know that he is spendin’, accordin’to approved accounts, at this blessed moment, as much as half a milliona day? I
own a wish to be pickin’ up some of the coppers while they arescattered about so plentifully.”
“Half a million a day! why that is only at the rate of $187,000,000 perannum; a mere trifle, Spike, that is scarce worth mentioning among usmariners.”
“It’s so in the newspapers, I can swear, lieutenant.”
“Ay, ay, and the newspapers will swear to it, too, and they that gavethe newspapers their cue. But no matter, our business is with thisflour. Will you sell us a barrel or two for our mess? I heard thecaterer say we should want flour in the course of a week or so.”
Spike seemed embarrassed, though not to a degree to awaken suspicion inhis companion.
“I never sold cargo at sea, long as I’ve sailed and owned a craft,” heanswered, as if uncertain what to do. “If you’ll pay the price I expectto get in the Gulf, and will take ten barrels, I do n’t know but we maymake a trade on’t. I shall only ask expected prices.”
“Which will be--?”
“Ten dollars a barrel. For one hundred silver dollars I will put intoyour boat ten barrels of the very best brand known in the westerncountry.”
“This is dealing rather more extensively than I anticipated, but we willreflect on it.”
Wallance now indolently arose and ascended to the quarter-deck, followedby Spike, who continued to press the flour on him, as if anxious to makemoney. But the lieutenant hesitated about paying a price as high as tendollars, or to take a quantity as large as ten barrels.
“Our mess is no great matter after all,” he said carelessly. “Fourlieutenants, the purser, two doctors, the master, and a marine officer,and you get us all. Nine men could never eat ten barrels of flour, mydear Spike, you will see for yourself, with the quantity of excellentbread we carry. You forget the bread.”
“Not a bit of it, Mr. Wallace, since that is your name. But such flouras this of mine has not been seen in the Gulf this many a day. I oughtin reason to ask twelve dollars for it, and insist on such a ship asyour’n’s taking twenty instead of the ten barrels.”
“I thank you, sir, the ten will more than suffice; unless, indeed, thecaptain wants some for the cabin. How is it with your steerage messes,Mr. Archer--do you want any flour?”
“We draw a little from the ship, according to rule, sir, but we can’tgo as many puddings latterly as we could before we touched last at theHavanna,” answered the laughing midshipman. “There is n’t a fellow amongus, sir, that could pay a shore-boat for landing him, should we go inagain before the end of another month. I never knew such a place asHavanna. They say midshipmen’s money melts there twice as soon aslieutenants’ money.”
“It’s clear, then, you’ll not take any of the ten. I am afraid afterall, Mr. Spike, we cannot trade, unless you will consent to let me havetwo barrels. I’ll venture on two at ten dollars, high as the price is.”
“I should n’t forgive myself in six months for making so had a bargain,lieutenant, so we’ll say no more about it if you please.”
“Here is a lady that wishes to say a word to you, Mr. Wallace, beforewe go back to the ship, if you are at leisure to hear her, or them--forthere are two of them,” put in Archer.
At this moment Mrs. Budd was approaching with a dignified step, whileRose followed timidly a little in the rear. Wallace was a good dealsurprised at this application, and Spike was quite as much provoked. Asfor Mulford, he watched the interview from a distance, a great deal moreinterested in its result than he cared to have known, more especially tohis commanding officer. Its object was to get a passage in the vessel ofwar.
“You are an officer of that Uncle Sam vessel,” commenced Mrs. Budd,who thought that she would so much the more command the respect andattention of her listener, by showing him early how familiar she waswith even the slang dialect of the seas.
“I have the honour, ma’am, to belong to that Uncle Sam craft,” answeredWallace gravely, though he bowed politely at the same time, lookingintently at the beautiful girl in the back-ground as he so did.
“So I’ve been told, sir. She’s a beautiful vessel, lieutenant, and isfull jiggered, I perceive.”
For the first time in his life, or at least for the first time since hisfirst cruise, Wallace wore a mystified look, being absolutely at a lossto imagine what “full jiggered” could mean. He only looked, therefore,for he did not answer.
“Mrs. Budd means that you’ve a full rigged craft,” put in Spike, anxiousto have a voice in the conference, “this vessel being only a half-riggedbrig.”
“Oh! ay; yes, yes--the lady is quite right. We are full jiggered fromour dead-eyes to our eye-bolts.”
“I thought as much, sir, from your ground hamper and top-tackles,” addedthe relict smiling. “For my part there is nothing in nature that Iso much admire as a full jiggered ship, with her canvas out of thebolt-ropes, and her clew-lines and clew-garnets braced sharp, and heryards all abroad.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is just as you say, a very charming spectacle. Our babywas born full grown, and with all her hamper aloft just as you see her.Some persons refer vessels to art, but I think you are quite right inreferring them to nature.”
“Nothing can be more natural to me, lieutenant, than a fine shipstanding on her canvas. It’s an object to improve the heart and tosoften the understanding.”
“So I should think, ma’am,” returned Wallace, a little quizzically,“judging from the effect on yourself.”
This speech, unfortunately timed as it was, wrought a complete change inRose’s feelings, and she no longer wished to exchange the Swash for thePoughkeepsie. She saw that her aunt was laughed at in secret, and thatwas a circumstance that never failed to grate on every nerve in hersystem. She had been prepared to second and sustain the intendedapplication--she was now determined to oppose it.
“Yes, sir,” resumed the unconscious relict, “and to soften theunderstanding. Lieutenant, did you ever cross the Capricorn?”
“No less than six times; three going and three returning, you know.”
“And did Neptune come on board you, and were you shaved?”
“Everything was done secundem artem, ma’am. The razor was quite anexample of what are called in poetry ‘thoughts too deep for tears.’ ”
“That must have been delightful. As for me, I’m quite a devotee ofNeptune’s; but I’m losing time, for no doubt your ship is all ready topull away and carry on sail--”
“Aunt, may I say a word to you before you go any further,” put in Rosein her quiet but very controlling way.
The aunt complied, and Wallace, as soon as left alone, felt like a manwho was released from a quick-sand, into which every effort to extricatehimself only plunged him so much the deeper. At this moment the shiphailed, and the lieutenant took a hasty leave of Spike, motioned to themidshipman to precede him, and followed the latter into his boat.Spike saw his visiter off in person, tending the side and offering theman-ropes with his own hands. For this civility Wallace thanked him,calling out as his boat pulled him from the brig’s side--“If we ‘pullaway,’” accenting the “pull” in secret derision of the relict’s mistake,“you can pull away; our filling the topsail being a sign for you to dothe same.”
“There you go, and joy go with you,” muttered Spike, as he descendedfrom the gangway. “A pretty kettle of fish would there have been cookedhad I let him have his two barrels of flour.”
The man-of-war’s cutter was soon under the lee of the ship, where itdischarged its freight, when it was immediately run up. During the wholetime Wallace had been absent, Captain Mull and his officers remained onthe poop, principally occupied in examining and discussing the merits ofthe Swash. No sooner had their officer returned, however, than an orderwas given to fill away, it being supposed that the Poughkeepsie had nofurther concern with the brigantine. As for Wallace, he ascended to thepoop and made the customary report.
“It’s a queer cargo to be carrying to Key West from the Atlanticcoast,” observed the captain in a deliberating sort of manner, as if thecircumstance excited s
uspicion; “Yet the Mexicans can hardly be in wantof any such supplies.”
“Did you see the flour, Wallace?” inquired the first lieutenant, who waswell aware of his messmate’s indolence.
“Yes, sir, and felt it too. The lower hold of the brig is full of flour,and of nothing else.”
“Ware round, sir--ware round and pass athwart the brig’s wake,” interrupted the captain. “There’s plenty of room now, and I wish to passas near that craft as we can.”
This manoeuvre was executed. The sloop-of-war no sooner filled hermaintop-sail than she drew ahead, leaving plenty of room for thebrigantine to make sail on her course. Spike did not profit by thisopening, however, but he sent several men aloft forward, where theyappeared to be getting ready to send down the upper yards and thetopgallant-mast. No sooner was the sloop-of-war’s helm put up than thatvessel passed close along the brigantine’s weather side, and keptoff across her stern on her course. As she did this the canvas wasfluttering aboard her, in the process of making sail, and Mull held ashort discourse with Spike.
“Is anything the matter aloft?” demanded the man-of-war’s man.
“Ay, ay; I’ve sprung my topgallant-mast, and think this a good occasionto get another up in its place.”
“Shall I lend you a carpenter or two, Mr. Spike?”
“Thank’ee, sir, thank’ee with all my heart; but we can do without them.It’s an old stick, and it’s high time a better stood where it does. Whoknows but I may be chased and feel the want of reliable spars.”
Captain Mull smiled and raised his cap in the way of an adieu, when theconversation ended; the Poughkeepsie sliding off rapidly with a freewind, leaving the Swash nearly stationary. In ten minutes the twovessels were more than a mile apart; in twenty, beyond the reach ofshot.
Notwithstanding the natural and common-place manner in which thisseparation took place, there was much distrust on board each vessel, anda good deal of consummate management on the part of Spike. The latterknew that every foot the sloop-of-war went on her course, carriedher just so far to leeward, placing his own brig, in-so-much, deadto windward of her. As the Swash’s best point of sailing, relativelyconsidered, was close-hauled, this was giving to Spike a great securityagainst any change of purpose on the part of the vessel of war. Althoughhis people were aloft and actually sent down the topgallant-mast, it wasonly to send it up again, the spar being of admirable toughness, and assound as the day it was cut.
“I don’t think, Mr. Mulford,” said the captain sarcastically, “thatUncle Sam’s glasses are good enough to tell the difference in wood attwo leagues’ distance, so we’ll trust to the old stick a little longer.Ay, ay, let ‘em run off before it, we’ll find another road by which toreach our port.”
“The sloop-of-war is going round the south side of Cuba, Captain Spike,” answered the mate, “and I have understood you to say that you intendedto go by the same passage.”
“A body may change his mind, and no murder. Only consider, Harry, howcommon it is for folks to change their minds. I did intend to passbetween Cuba and Jamaica, but I intend it no longer. Our run fromMontauk has been oncommon short, and I’ve time enough to spare to go tothe southward of Jamaica too, if the notion takes me.”
“That would greatly prolong the passage, Captain Spike,--a week atleast.”
“What if it does--I’ve a week to spare; we’re nine days afore our time.”
“Our time for what, sir? Is there any particular time set for a vessel’sgoing into Key West?”
“Don’t be womanish and over-cur’ous, Mulford. I sail with sealed orders,and when we get well to windward of Jamaica, ‘t will be time enough toopen them.”
Spike was as good as his word. As soon as he thought the sloop-of-warwas far enough to leeward, or when she was hull down, he filled away andmade sail on the wind to get nearer to Porto Rico. Long ere it was darkhe had lost sight of the sloop-of-war, when he altered his course tosouth-westerly, which was carrying him in the direction he named, or towindward of Jamaica.
While this artifice was being practised on board the Molly Swash, theofficers of the Poughkeepsie were not quite satisfied with their ownmode of proceeding with the brigantine. The more they reasoned on thematter, the more unlikely it seemed to them that Spike could be reallycarrying a cargo of flour from New York to Key West, in the expectationof disposing of it to the United States’ contractors, and the more outof the way did he seem to be in running through the Mona Passage.
“His true course should have been by the Hole in the Wall, and so downalong the north side of Cuba, before the wind,” observed the firstlieutenant. “I wonder that never struck you, Wallace; you, who so littlelike trouble.”
“Certainly I knew it, but we lazy people like running off before thewind, and I did not know but such were Mr. Spike’s tastes,” answered the“ship’s gentleman.” “In my judgment, the reluctance he showed to lettingus have any of his flour, is much the most suspicious circumstance inthe whole affair.”
These two speeches were made on the poop, in the presence of thecaptain, but in a sort of an aside that admitted of some of theward-room familiarity exhibited. Captain Mull was not supposed to hearwhat passed, though hear it he in fact did, as was seen by his ownremarks, which immediately succeeded.
“I understood you to say, Mr. Wallace,” observed the captain, a littledrily, “that you saw the flour yourself?”
“I saw the flour-barrels, sir; and as regularly built were they as anybarrels that ever were branded. But a flour-barrel may have containedsomething beside flour.”
“Flour usually makes itself visible in the handling; were these barrelsquite clean?”
“Far from it, sir. They showed flour on their staves, like any othercargo. After all, the man may have more sense than we give him creditfor, and find a high market for his cargo.”
Captain Mull seemed to muse, which was a hint for his juniors not tocontinue the conversation, but rather to seem to muse, too. After ashort pause, the captain quietly remarked--“Well, gentlemen, he willbe coming down after us, I suppose, as soon as he gets his newtopgallant-mast on-end, and then we can keep a bright look-out for him.We shall cruise off Cape St. Antonio for a day or two, and no doubtshall get another look at him. I should like to have one baking from hisflour.”
But Spike had no intention to give the Poughkeepsie the desiredopportunity. As has been stated, he stood off to the southward on awind, and completely doubled the eastern end of Jamaica, when he put hishelm up, and went, with favouring wind and current, toward the northwardand westward. The consequence was, that he did not fall in with thePoughkeepsie at all, which vessel was keeping a sharp look-out for himin the neighbourhood of Cape St. Antonio and the Isle of Pines, at thevery moment he was running down the coast of Yucatan. Of all the largemaritime countries of the world, Mexico, on the Atlantic, is that whichis the most easily blockaded, by a superior naval power. By maintaininga proper force between Key West and the Havanna, and another squadronbetween Cape St. Antonio and Loggerhead Key, the whole country, the Bayof Honduras excepted, is shut up, as it might be in a band-box. It istrue the Gulf would be left open to the Mexicans, were not squadronskept nearer in; but, as for anything getting out into the broadAtlantic, it would be next to hopeless. The distance to be watchedbetween the Havanna and Key West is only about sixty miles, while thatin the other direction is not much greater.
While the Swash was making the circuit of Jamaica, as described,her captain had little communication with his passengers. Themisunderstanding with the relict embarrassed him as much as itembarrassed her; and he was quite willing to let time mitigate herresentment. Rose would be just as much in his power a fortnight henceas she was today. This cessation in the captain’s attentions gave thefemales greater liberty, and they improved it, singularly enough as itseemed to Mulford, by cultivating a strange sort of intimacy with JackTier. The very day that succeeded the delicate conversation with Mrs.Budd, to a part of which Jack had been an auditor, the uncouth-lookingsteward??
?s assistant was seen in close conference with the prettyRose; the subject of their conversation being, apparently, of a mostengrossing nature. From that hour, Jack got to be not only a confidant,but a favourite, to Mulford’s great surprise. A less inviting subjectfor tête-à-tête and confidential dialogues, thought the young man,could not well exist; but so it was; woman’s caprices are inexplicable;and not only Rose and her aunt, but even the captious and somewhatdistrustful Biddy, manifested on all occasions not only friendship, butkindness and consideration for Jack.
“You quite put my nose out o’ joint, you Jack Tier, with ‘e lady,” grumbled Josh, the steward de jure, if not now de facto, of the craft,“and I neber see nuttin’ like it! I s’pose you expect ten dollar, atleast, from dem passenger, when we gets in. But I’d have you to know,Misser Jack, if you please, dat a steward be a steward, and he do n’tlike to hab trick played wid him, afore he own face.”
“Poh! poh! Joshua,” answered Jack good-naturedly, “do n’t distressyourself on a consail. In the first place, you’ve got no nose to beput out of joint; or, if you have really a nose, it has no joint. It’snat’ral for folks to like their own colour, and the ladies prefar me,because I’m white.”
“No so werry white as all dat, nudder,” grumbled Josh. “I see greatmany whiter dan you. But, if dem lady like you so much as to gib you tendollar, as I expects, when we gets in, I presumes you’ll hand over half,or six dollar, of dat money to your superior officer, as is law in decase.”
“Do you call six the half of ten, Joshua, my scholar, eh?”
“Well, den, seven, if you like dat better. I wants just half, and justhalf I means to git.”
“And half you shall have, maty. I only wish you would just tell me wherewe shall be, when we gets in.”
“How I know, white man? Dat belong to skipper, and better ask him. If hedo n’t gib you lick in de chop, p’rhaps he tell you.”
As Jack Tier had no taste for “licks in the chops,” he did not followJosh’s advice. But his agreeing to give half of the ten dollars to thesteward kept peace in the cabins. He was even so scrupulous of his word,as to hand to Josh a half-eagle that very day; money he had receivedfrom Rose; saying he would trust to Providence for his own half of theexpected douceur. This concession placed Jack Tier on high grounds withhis “superior officer,” and from that time the former was left to do thewhole of the customary service of the ladies’ cabin.
As respects the vessel, nothing worthy of notice occurred until she hadpassed Loggerhead Key, and was fairly launched in the Gulf of Mexico.Then, indeed, Spike took a step that greatly surprised his mate. Thelatter was directed to bring all his instruments, charts, &c., and placethem in the captain’s state-room, where it was understood they wereto remain until the brig got into port. Spike was but an indifferentnavigator, while Mulford was one of a higher order than common. So muchhad the former been accustomed to rely on the latter, indeed, as theyapproached a strange coast, that he could not possibly have taken anystep, that was not positively criminal, which would have given his matemore uneasiness than this.
At first, Mulford naturally enough suspected that Spike intended to pushfor some Mexican port, by thus blinding his eyes as to the position ofthe vessel. The direction steered, however, soon relieved the mate fromthis apprehension. From the eastern extremity of Yucatan, the Mexicancoast trends to the westward, and even to the south of west, for a longdistance, whereas the course steered by Spike was north, easterly. Thiswas diverging from the enemy’s coast instead of approaching it, and thecircumstance greatly relieved the apprehensions of Mulford.
Nor was the sequestration of the mate’s instruments the only suspiciousact of Spike. He caused the brig’s paint to be entirely altered, andeven went so far toward disguising her, as to make some changes aloft.All this was done as the vessel passed swiftly on her course, andeverything had been effected, apparently to the captain’s satisfaction,when the cry of “land-ho!” was once more heard. The land proved to bea cluster of low, small islands, part coral, part sand, that might havebeen eight or ten in number, and the largest of which did not possessa surface of more than a very few acres. Many were the merest isletsimaginable, and on one of the largest of the cluster rose a tall, gauntlight-house, having the customary dwelling of its keeper at its base.Nothing else was visible; the broad expanse of the blue waters of theGulf excepted. All the land in sight would not probably have made onefield of twenty acres in extent, and that seemed cut off from therest of the world, by a broad barrier of water. It was a spot of suchsingular situation and accessories, that Mulford gazed at it with aburning desire to know where he was, as the brig steered through achannel between two of the islets, into a capacious and perfectly safebasin, formed by the group, and dropped her anchor in its centre.