Woven with the Ship: A Novel of 1865

  CHAPTER VIII

  "OLD IRONSIDES"

  The continuity of his thought was suddenly broken. A beautiful hand,of exquisite touch, sunburned, but shapely, delicate, but strong, waslaid lightly on his shoulder. He glanced down at it, thrilled!

  "Captain Barry," exclaimed a fresh, clear young voice, which inperfection matched the hand, "have you looked to the comfort of ourguest? Oh, sir, I beg your pardon. I thought----" she cried in dismay,as Revere rose to his feet and bowed low before her.

  "May I answer your question? He has, as these clothes, which accountfor your mistake, will witness."

  "And are you well, sir? Are you none the worse for----?"

  "Much the better, I should say," answered the young man, "since myadventure has gained me the privilege of your acquaintance."

  "You might have had that without risking your life, sir," sheresponded, smiling.

  "Not without risking my heart, I am sure," he replied, gallantly.

  "What a strange way you have of addressing people!" she continued,looking at him so frankly and so innocently that he felt ashamed ofhimself. "Do you always talk in that way?"

  "Well, not always," he replied, laughing; "but I jest----"

  "Oh, it was only a jest, then," she interrupted, her heart sinkingfaintly.

  "But I jest when I should be thanking you for giving me my life," hecontinued, disregarding her interruption. "You saved my life, Miss--Ido not know your name."

  "I am Emily Sanford, the admiral's granddaughter."

  "You saved my life, Miss Sanford."

  "I don't believe I've ever been called 'Miss Sanford' in my life. Howstrange it sounds!" she exclaimed, naively. "Everybody here calls me'Miss Emily.'"

  "You will not find me unwilling, I am sure, to adopt the commonpractice," he exclaimed, lightly. "But, seriously, death never seemednearer to me than it did last night, and I have been near it before,too. Had it not been for you----"

  "And Captain Barry," she interrupted, quickly.

  "Of course, for him, too, I'd not be here thanking you now."

  "But it was nothing, after all; anybody could have done it."

  "There I disagree with you. I am sailor enough to know that it was amost desperate undertaking. You put your own life in hazard to savemine. If that old man had relaxed his efforts, if you had made amistake with those yoke-lines,--well, there would have been three ofus to go instead of one."

  "Oh, hardly that."

  "But I know, Miss Emily, and I cannot allow you to disparage youraction so. 'Twas a most heroic thing, and I'm not worthy the risk andthe effort."

  "But you have been with Farragut; you were at Mobile Bay in the_Hartford_; you----"

  "You did not know it then, surely?" in great surprise.

  "I did not then; but since I did--as you persist in saying--save you,I am glad to know it now. But you have not told me your name."

  "My name is Richard Revere. I am a lieutenant in the United Statesnavy."

  "How did you happen to come here?" curiously.

  "I came about the ship."

  "The ship?" she cried in alarm. "What of it?"

  "I came to inspect it," he answered, evasively, something promptinghim that he was getting in dangerous waters.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed, greatly relieved; "I thought you might have cometo destroy it, or to dispose of it. You see, it would be the death ofgrandfather if anything should happen to the old ship, and it wouldkill the old sailor, too; and then what would become of me?"

  Her frankness delighted him. An answer trembled on the tip of histongue, but by a great effort he restrained his inclination andquestioned her.

  "Have you no relatives, no friends?"

  "No relatives at all except grandfather," she answered, freely andfrankly. "I have lived here since I was a baby with the admiral andCaptain Barry. My mother died when I was an infant, and she was theonly child of her mother. I haven't a connection in the world that Iknow of. Friends? Yes, everybody in the village is a friend of mine;but they are different, you know. I wonder sometimes what will happenwhen--they can't last much longer, you know, but God will take care ofme," she continued, simply.

  "And I, too," he murmured softly, in spite of himself.

  "You!" she cried, surprised, turning her clear, splendid eyes towardhim and confronting him in one unabashed glance. "What do you mean?I----"

  "Never mind, Miss Emily," he answered, recovering himself again; "youare right. God will find some way, I doubt not. I only mean to saythat if you ever need a friend, a real friend, you may count upon meand upon my mother. She owes you a son, you know, and I am sure shewould gladly pay her debt in kindness to you."

  Dangerous promises, Richard, so far as you are concerned, in spite ofPlato; and few men there be who dare assume to speak for a woman, amother, to a possible daughter-in-law!

  His words were simple enough, but there was such intensity in theglance that accompanied them that the girl, innocent though she was,shrank from it,--not with fear, but from the old, old instinct ofwoman that suggests flight when fain to be pursued.

  "More of the ship went with the gale last night," she murmured,pointing; "see yonder. I think every gale that comes will be the lastof her. Your boat is gone to pieces, too."

  "I count it well lost," he replied, softly, "for it has brought me toyou."

  "You must not say that," she answered, gravely; "and I am forgettingmy duty. Breakfast is nearly ready. I came to tell you. Will you comeinto the house?"

  It was not the first time that a maiden forgot her duty--even intrifles like this--in the presence of a man she was beginning to love,nor would it be the last.

  "Did you, then, do me the honor to seek me? I am delighted."

  "At the prospect of breakfast?" she asked, smiling at him merrily.

  "Of course. Did you ever see a sailor-man who wasn't?"

  "The only sailor-men I know are my grandfather and Captain Barry.Grandfather cares nothing about it, but I must say that CaptainBarry----"

  "Does full justice to his rations, I doubt not. He looks like it.Well, I am only a lieutenant. I will follow the captain. May I helpyou up the hill?"

  She laughed lightly at him.

  "Why, Mr. Revere, I run up and down that hill a dozen times a day, andI should think, after your battering of last night, you would ratherdepend upon me. Come, let us go."

  They had gone but a few steps when an idea struck the lieutenant. Hestopped, pressed his hand against his side, and gazed beseechingly athis companion.

  "Oh, what is it?" she cried; "your wound? You ought not to have comeout. What shall we do?"

  "I am afraid," answered this mendacious deceiver; "I am sorry totrouble you, but I will have to be helped up the hill, after all. Yousee----"

  "Of course, of course. How thoughtless of me! I'll call Captain Barryat once."

  "Oh, no; that will be unnecessary. If you will give me your hand Ithink I can manage."

  She extended her hand to him instantly with all the freedom of hercharacter, and her ready offer shamed him again. His repentance of hissubterfuge did not rise to the renunciation point, for it must beconfessed that he seized the beautiful, sunburnt little hand withavidity, and clung to it as if he really craved assistance. She helpedhim religiously up the hill, and, as he showed no desire to relinquishher hand when they reached the top, she asked him if he did not feelable to walk alone now; and when he was forced to reply in theaffirmative, she drew it gently away.

  "You see," he said, "it was so delightful, I quite forgot."

  "What was delightful?"

  "To have reached the top of the hill; you know it was so pleasant,I--I--forgot--I was holding your hand."

  If Emily had been a modern young woman she might have asked him how hecould ever have forgotten for a moment that he was holding her hand;but as his glance carried his meaning home to her she flushed deeply.The admiral's voice calling to them from the door-way put an end to ascene which was delightful to both of them.

  On
seeing the old man, the young man took off his cap and bowedrespectfully.

  "Sir," he said, "my name is Richard Revere."

  "Are you related to Commodore Dick Revere of the old navy?"

  "He was my grandfather, sir."

  "I knew him well; I sailed on many a cruise with him. A gallantfellow, a loyal friend. I'm glad to meet you, sir. You are welcome."

  "I have to thank you for your hospitality, sir, even as I thank yourgranddaughter for her heroic rescue of me last night."

  "It was, indeed, nobly done, young sir, and I am glad that my childshould have been of service to a grandson of Dick Revere, or to afriend of Dave Farragut. You were at Mobile, were you?"

  "Yes, sir, and on the _Hartford_."

  "I've seen many a battle in my day, young sir," said the old admiral,simply. "It was old-fashioned fighting then, yard-arm to yard-arm, butwe went at it good and hard, and our hearts were in it, I doubt not,just as yours were."

  "May I know your name, sir?"

  "I am called Charles Stewart," responded the other.

  "What?" cried the lieutenant. "Charles Stewart of the _Constitution_?The man who took the _Cyane_ and the _Levant_?"

  "The same, sir."

  "Him they call 'Old Ironsides'?"

  "I believe my countrymen do apply that name to me sometimes," repliedthe old man, smiling with pleasure at the hearty admiration of theyounger.

  "I am proud to know you, sir, and proud to see you. We of the new navyonly hope that we may live up to the record you of the old made in thepast, sir."

  "You have more than done that," said the old man, heartily; "we had nobetter men than Farragut and young Porter. I sailed with old Porter,his father, many a time. I knew him well."

  "But come, grandfather," said Emily, "breakfast is ready."

  "A moment, child," said the old man, forgetting for the moment,apparently, his environment. "I must look at the ship. Good-morning,Barry," he continued, as the sailor approached him; "is it well withthe ship?"

  "A good piece of it went down last night, your honor, I'm sorry tosay. It lies off on the port side, yonder, under the lee, but nothin'vital yet, sir."

  "I did not think to see it this morning. Bit by bit it wears away.Well, please God, there will be an end some day."