The Red Rover & Other Sea Adventures – 3 Novels in One Volume. Джеймс Фенимор Купер

of each endeavouring to read the expression of his neighbour’s countenance.

      “I am ready to make an affidavit before my Lord High Chancellor,” suddenly exclaimed the barrister, “that this has never been a mill!”

      “Your opinion has undergone a sudden change!”

      “I am open to conviction, as I hope to be a judge. The case has been argued by a powerful advocate, and I have lived to see my error.”

      “And yet there are rats in the place.”

      “Land rats, or water rats?” quickly demanded the other, giving his companion one of those startling and searching glances, which his keen eye had so freely at command.

      “Both, I believe,” was the dry and caustic reply; “certainly the former, or the gentlemen of the long robe are much injured by report.”

      The barrister laughed; nor did his temper appear in the slightest degree ruffled at so free an allusion at his learned and honourable profession.

      “You gentlemen of the Ocean have such an honest and amusing frankness about you,” he said, “that I vow to God you are overwhelming. I am a downright admirer of your noble calling, and something skilled in its terms. What spectacle, for instance, can be finer than a noble ship ‘stemming the waves with her taffrail,’ and chasing her wake, like a racer on the course!”

      “Leaving the ‘bone in her mouth’ under her stern, as a light-house for all that come after!”

      Then, as if they found singular satisfaction in dwelling on these images of the worthy relict of the gallant Admiral, they broke out simultaneously into a fit of clamorous merriment, that caused the old ruin to ring, as in its best days of windy power. The barrister was the first to regain his self-command, for the mirth of the young mariner was joyous, and without the least restraint.

      “But this is dangerous ground for any but a seaman’s widow to touch,” the former observed, as suddenly causing his laughter to cease as he had admitted of its indulgence. “The younger, she who is no lover of a mill, is a rare and lovely creature! it would seem that she is the niece of the nautical critic.”

      The young manner ceased laughing in his turn, as though he were suddenly convinced of the glaring impropriety of making so near a relative of the fair vision he had seen the subject of his merriment. Whatever might have been his secret thoughts, he was content with replying,—

      “She so declared herself.”

      “Tell me,” said the barrister, walking close to the other, like one who communicated an important secret in the question, “was there not something remarkable searching, extraordinary, heart-touching, in the voice of her they called Wyllys?”

      “Did you note it?”

      “It sounded to me like the tones of an oracle—the whisperings of fancy—the very words of truth! It was a strange and persuasive voice!”

      “I confess I felt its influence, and in a way for which I cannot account!”

      “It amounts to infatuation!” returned the barrister pacing up and down the little apartment, every trace of humour and irony having disappeared in a look of settled and abstracted care. His companion appeared little disposed to interrupt his meditations, but stood leaning against the naked walls, himself the subject of deep and sorrowful reflection. At length the former shook off his air of thought, with that startling quickness which seemed common to his manner; he approached a window, and, directing the attention of Wilder to the ship in the outer harbour, abruptly demanded,—

      “Has all your interest in yon vessel ceased?”

      “Far from it; it is just such a boat as a seaman’s eye most loves to study!”

      “Will you venture to board her?”

      “At this hour? alone? I know not her commander, or her people.”

      “There are other hours beside this, and a sailor is certain of a frank reception from his messmates.”

      “These slavers are not always willing to be boarded; they carry arms, and know how to keep strangers at a distance.”

      “Are there no watch-words, in the masonry of your trade, by which a brother is known? Such terms as ‘stemming the waves with the taffrail,’ for instance, or some of those knowing phrases we have lately heard?”

      Wilder kept his own keen look on the countenance of the other, as he thus questioned him, and seemed to ponder long before he ventured on a reply.

      “Why do you demand all this of me?” he coldly asked.

      “Because, as I believe that ‘faint heart never won fair lady,’ so do I believe that indecision never won a ship. You wish a situation, you say; and, if I were an Admiral, I would make you my flag-captain. At the assizes, when we wish a brief, we have our manner of letting the thing be known. But perhaps I am talking too much at random for an utter stranger. You will however remember, that, though it is the advice of a lawyer, it is given gratuitously.”

      “And is it the more to be relied on for such extraordinary liberality?”

      “Of that you must judge for yourself,” said the stranger in green, very deliberately putting his foot on the ladder, and descending, until no part of his person but his head was seen. “Here I go, literally cutting the waves with my taffrail,” he added, as he descended backwards, and seeming to take great pleasure in laying particular emphasis on the words. “Adieu, my friend; if we do not meet again, I enjoin you never to forget the rats in the Newport ruin.”

      He disappeared as he concluded, and in another instant his light form was on the ground. Turning with the most admirable coolness, he gave the bottom of the ladder a trip with one of his feet, and laid the only means of descent prostrate on the earth. Then, looking up at the wondering Wilder, he nodded his head familiarly, repeated his adieu, and passed with a swift step from beneath the arches.

      “This is extraordinary conduct,” muttered Wilder who was by the process left a prisoner in the ruin. After ascertaining that a fall from the trap might endanger his legs, the young sailor ran to one of the windows of the place, in order to reproach his treacherous comrade, or indeed to assure himself that he was serious in thus deserting him. The barrister was already out of hailing distance, and, before Wilder had time to decide on what course to take, his active footsteps had led him into the skirts of the town, among the buildings of which his person became immediately lost to the eye.

      During all the time occupied by the foregoing scenes and dialogue, Fid and the negro had been diligently discussing the contents of the bag, under the fence where they were last seen. As the appetite of the former became appeased, his didactic disposition returned, and, at the precise moment when Wilder was left alone in the tower, he was intently engaged in admonishing the black on the delicate subject, of behaviour in mixed society.

      “And so you see, Guinea,” he concluded, “in or der to keep a weather-helm in company, you are never to throw all aback, and go stern foremost out of a dispute, as you have this day seen fit to do According to my l’arning, that Master Nightingale is better in a bar-room than in a squall; and if you had just luffed-up on his quarter, when you saw me laying myself athwart his hawse in the argument, you see we should have given him a regular jam in the discourse, and then the fellow would have been shamed in the eyes of all the by-standers. Who hails? what cook is sticking his neighbour’s pig now?”

      “Lor’! Misser Fid,” cried the black, “here masser Harry, wid a head out of port-hole, up dereaway in a light-house, singing-out like a marine in a boat wid a plug out!”

      “Ay, ay, let him alone for hailing a top-gallant yard, or a flying-jib-boom! The lad has a voice like a French horn, when he has a mind to tune it! And what the devil is he manning the guns of that weather-beaten wreck for? At all events, if he has to fight his craft alone, there is no one to blame but himself, since he has gone to quarters without beat of drum, or without, in any other manner, seeing fit to muster his people.”

      As