TALES OF THE SEA: 12 Maritime Adventure Novels in One Volume (Illustrated)
whom? by your know-nothings and bold talkers. But I, a man who has seen the four quarters of the earth, and no small part of the water besides, give the lie to such empty boasters. We are colonies, friend, we are colonies; and it is as bold in a colony to tell the mother that it has the advantage, in this or that particular, as it would be in a foremast Jack to tell his officer he was wrong, though he knew it to be true. I am but a poor man, Mr—By what name may I call your Honour?”
“Me! my name?—Harris.”
“I am but a poor man, Mr Harris; but I have had charge of a watch in my time, old and rusty as I seem, nor have I spent so many long nights on deck without keeping thoughts at work, though I may not have overhaul’d as much philosophy, in so doing, as a paid parish priest, or a fee’d lawyer. Let me tell you, it is a disheartening thing to be nothing but a dweller in a colony. It keeps down the pride and spirit of a man, and lends a hand in making him what his masters would be glad to have him. I shall say nothing of fruits, and meats, and other eatables, that come from the land of which both you and I have heard and know too much, unless it be to point to yonder sun, and then to ask the question, whether you think King George has the power to make it shine on the bit of an island where he lives, as it shines here in his broad provinces of America?”
“Certainly not: and yet you know that every one allows that the productions of England are so much superior”—
“Ay, ay; a colony always sails under the lee of its mother. Talk does it all, friend Harris. Talk, talk, talk; a man can talk himself into a fever, or set a ship’s company by the ears. He can talk a cherry into a peach, or a flounder into a whale. Now here is the whole of this long coast of America, and all her rivers, and lakes, and brooks, swarming with such treasures as any man might fatten on, and yet his Majesty’s servants, who come among us, talk of their turbots, and their sole, and their carp, as if the Lord had only made such fish, and the devil had let the others slip through his fingers, without asking leave.”
Wilder turned, and fastened a look of surprise on the old man, who continued to eat, however, as if he had uttered nothing but what might be considered as a matter of course opinion.
“You are more attached to your birth-place than loyal, friend,” said the young mariner, a little austerely.
“I am not fish-loyal at least. What the Lord made, one may speak of, I hope, without offence. As to the Government, that is a rope twisted by the hands of man, and”—
“And what?” demanded Wilder, perceiving that the other hesitated.
“Hum! Why, I fancy man will undo his own work, when he can find nothing better to busy himself in. No harm in saying that either, I hope?”
“So much, that I must call your attention to the business that has brought us together. You have not go soon forgotten the earnest-money you received?”
The old sailor shoved the dish from before him, and, folding his arms, he looked his companion full in the eye, as he calmly answered,—
“When I am fairly enlisted in a service, I am a man to be counted on. I hope you sail under the same colors, friend Harris?”
“It would be dishonest to be otherwise. There is one thing you will excuse, before I proceed to detail my plans and wishes: I must take occasion to examine this closet, in order to be sure that we are actually alone.”
“You will find little there except the toggery of some of honest Joe’s female gender. As the door is not fastened with any extraordinary care, you have only to look for yourself, since seeing is believing.”
Wilder did not seem disposed to wait for this permission; he opened the door, even while the other was speaking, and, finding that the closet actually contained little else than the articles named by his companion, he turned away, like a man who was disappointed.
“Were you alone when I entered?” he demanded, after a thoughtful pause of a moment.
“Honest Joram, and yourself.”
“But no one else?”
“None that I saw,” returned the other, with a manner that betrayed a slight uneasiness; “if you think otherwise, let us overhaul the room. Should my hand fall on a listener, the salute will not be light.”
“Hold—answer me one question; who bade me enter?”
Tarry Bob, who had arisen with a good deal of alacrity, now reflected in his turn for an instant, and then he closed his musing, by indulging in a low laugh.
“Ah! I see that you have got your ideas a little jammed. A man cannot talk the same, with a small portion of ox in his mouth, as though his tongue had as much sea-room as a ship four-and-twenty hours out.”
“Then, you spoke?”
“I’ll swear to that much,” returned Bob, resuming his seat like one who had settled the whole affair to his entire satisfaction; “and now, friend Harris, if you are ready to lay bare your mind, I’m just as ready to look at it.”
Wilder did not appear to be quite as well content with the explanation as his companion, but he drew a chair, and prepared to open his subject.
“I am not to tell you, friend, after what you have heard and seen, that I have no very strong desire that the lady with whom we have both spoken this morning, and her companion, should, sail in the ‘Royal Caroline.’ I suppose it is enough for our purposes that you should know the fact; the reason why I prefer they should remain where they are, can be of no moment as to the duty you are to undertake.”
“You need not tell an old seaman how to gather in the slack of a running idea!” cried Bob, chuckling and winking at his companion in a way that displeased the latter by its familiarity; “I have not lived fifty years on blue water, to mistake it for the skies.”
“You then fancy, sir, that my motive is no secret to you?”
“It needs no spy-glass to see, that, while the old people say, ‘Go,’ the young people would like to stay where they are.”
“You do both of the young people much injustice then; for, until yesterday, I never laid eyes on the person you mean.”
“Ah! I see how it is; the owners of the ‘Caroline’ have not been so civil as they ought, and you are paying them a small debt of thanks!”
“That is possibly a means of retaliation that might suit your taste,” said Wilder, gravely; “but which is not much in accordance with mine. The whole of the parties are utter strangers to me.”
“Hum! Then I suppose you belong to the vessel in the outer harbour; and, though you don’t hate your enemies, you love your friends. We must contrive the means to coax the ladies to take passage in the slaver.”
“God forbid!”
“God forbid! Now I think, friend Harris, you set up the backstays of your conscience a little too taught. Though I cannot, and do not, agree with you in all you have said concerning the ‘Royal Caroline,’ I see no reason to doubt but we shall have but one mind about the other vessel. I call her a wholesome looking and well proportioned craft, and one that a King might sail in with comfort.”
“I deny it not; still I like her not.”
“Well, I am glad of that; and, since the matter is fairly before us, master Harris, I have a word or two to say concerning that very ship. I am an old sea-dog, and one not easily blinded in matters of the trade. Do you not find something, that is not in character for an honest trader, in the manner in which they have laid that vessel at her anchors, without the fort, and the sleepy look she bears, at the same time that any one may see she is not built to catch oysters, or to carry cattle to the islands?”
“As you have said, I think her a wholesome and a tight-built ship. Of what evil practice, however, do you suspect her?—perhaps she robs the revenue?”
“Hum! I am not sure it would be pleasant to smuggle in such a vessel, though your contraband is a merry trade, after all. She has