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

pause, “are you there?”

      “I am here,” returned a low, and seemingly a mournful voice.

      “Ah! you gave him the regulations?”

      “I did.”

      “And he reads?”

      “He reads.”

      “It is well. I would speak to the General. Roderick, you must have need of rest; good night; let the General be summoned to a council, and—Good night, Roderick.”

      The boy made an assenting reply; but, instead of springing, with his former alacrity, to execute the order he lingered a moment nigh his master’s chair. Failing, however, in his wish to catch his eye, he slowly and reluctantly descended the stairs which led into the lower cabins, and was seen no more.

      It is needless to describe the manner in which the General made his second appearance. It differed in no particular from his former entrée, except that, on this occasion, the whole of his person was developed. He appeared a tall, upright form, that was far from being destitute of natural grace and proportions, but which had been so exquisitely drilled into simultaneous movement, that the several members had so far lost the power of volition, as to render it impossible for one to stir, without producing some thing like a correspondent demonstration in all its fellows. This rigid and well-regulated personage, after making a formal military bow to his superior, helped himself to a chair, in which, after some little time lost in preparation, he seated himself in silence. The Rover seemed conscious of his presence; for he acknowledged his salute by a gentle inclination of his own head; though he did not appear to think it necessary to suspend his ruminations the more on that account. At length, however, he turned short upon his companion, and said abruptly,—

      “General, the campaign is not finished.”

      “What remains? the field is won, and the enemy is a prisoner.”

      “Ay, your part of the adventure is well achieved, but much of mine remains to be done. You saw the youth in the lower cabin?”

      “I did.”

      “And how find you his appearance?”

      “Maritime.”

      “That is as much as to say, you like him not.”

      “I like discipline.”

      “I am much mistaken if you do not find him to your taste on the quarter-deck. Let that be as it may, I have still a favour to ask of you!”

      “A favour!—it is getting late.”

      “Did I say ‘a favour?’ there is duty to be yet done.”

      “I wait your orders.”

      “It is necessary that we use great precaution for, as you know”——

      “I wait your orders,” laconically repeated the other.

      The Rover compressed his mouth, and a scornful smile struggled about the nether lip; but it changed into a look half bland, half authoritative, as he continued,—

      “You will find two seamen, in a skiff, alongside the ship; the one is white, and the other is black. These men you will have conducted into the vessel—into one of the forward state-rooms—and you will have them both thoroughly intoxicated.”

      “It shall be done,” returned he who was called the General, rising, and marching with long strides towards the door of the cabin.

      “Pause a moment,” exclaimed the Rover; “what agent will you use?”

      “Nightingale has the strongest head but one in the ship.”

      “He is too far gone already. I sent him ashore, to look about for any straggling seamen who might like our service; and I found him in a tavern, with all the fastenings off his tongue, declaiming like a lawyer who had taken a fee from both parties Besides, he had a quarrel with one of these very men, and it is probable they would get to blows in their cups.”

      “I will do it myself. My night-cap is waiting for me; and it is only to lace it a little tighter than common.”

      The Rover seemed content with this assurance; for he expressed his satisfaction with a familiar nod of the head. The soldier was now about to depart, when he was again interrupted.

      “One thing more, General; there is your captive.”—

      “Shall I make him drunk too?”

      “By no means. Let him be conducted hither.”

      The General made an ejaculation of assent, and left the cabin. “It were weak,” thought the Rover as he resumed his walk up and down the apartment, “to trust too much to an ingenuous face and youthful enthusiasm. I am deceived if the boy has not had reason to think himself disgusted with the world, and ready to embark in any romantic enterprise but, still, to be deceived might be fatal therefore will I be prudent, even to excess of caution. He is tied in an extraordinary manner to these two seamen I would I knew his history. But all that will come in proper time. The men must remain as hostages for his own return, and for his faith. If he prove false, why, they are seamen;—and many men are expended in this wild service of ours! It is well arranged; and no suspicion of any plot on our part will wound the sensitive pride of the boy, if he be, as I would gladly think, a true man.”

      Such was, in a great manner, the train of thought in which the Rover indulged, for many minutes, after his military companion had left him. His lips moved; smiles, and dark shades of thought, in turn, chased each other from his speaking countenance, which betrayed all the sudden and violent changes that denote the workings of a busy spirit within. While thus engrossed in mind, his step became more rapid, and, at times, he gesticulated a little extravagantly when he found himself, in a sudden turn, unexpectedly confronted by a form that seemed to rise on his sight like a vision.

      While most engaged in his own humours, two powerful seamen had, unheeded, entered the cabin; and, after silently depositing a human figure in a seat, they withdrew without speaking. It was before this personage that the Rover now found himself. The gaze was mutual, long, and uninterrupted by a syllable from either party. Surprise and indecision held the Rover mute, while wonder and alarm appeared to have literally frozen the faculties of the other. At length the former, suffering a quaint and peculiar smile to gleam for a moment across his countenance, said abruptly,—

      “I welcome sir Hector Homespun!”

      The eyes of the confounded tailor—for it was no other than that garrulous acquaintance of the reader who had fallen into the toils of the Rover—the eyes of the good-man rolled from right to left, embracing, in their wanderings, the medley of elegance and warlike preparation that they every where met never failing to return, from each greedy look, to devour the figure that stood before him.

      “I say, Welcome, sir Hector Homespun!” repeated the Rover.

      “The Lord will be lenient to the sins of a miserable father of seven small children!” ejaculated the tailor. “It is but little, valiant Pirate, that can be gotten from a hard-working, upright tradesman, who sits from the rising to the setting sun, bent over his labour.”

      “These are debasing terms for chivalry, sir Hector,” interrupted the Rover, laying his hand on the little riding whip, which had been thrown carelessly on the cabin table, and, tapping the shoulder of the tailor with the same, as though he were a sorcerer, and would disenchant the other with the touch: “Cheer up, honest and loyal subject: Fortune has at length ceased to frown: it is but a few hours since you complained that no custom came to your shop from this vessel, and now are you in a fair way to do the business of the whole ship.”

      “Ah! honourable and magnanimous Rover,” rejoined Homespun, whose fluency returned with his senses, “I am an impoverished and undone man. My life has been one of weary and probationary hardships. Five bloody and cruel wars”——

      “Enough. I have said that Fortune was just beginning to smile. Clothes are as necessary to gentlemen of our profession as to the parish priest.