TALES OF THE SEA: 12 Maritime Adventure Novels in One Volume (Illustrated)
you the very side from which the precious fluid comes! That looks more in favor of the wine. But, after all, woman, dear capricious woman, who one moment fancies she sees a hero in regimentals, and the next a saint in a cassock; and who always sees something admirable in a suitor, whether he be clad in tow or velvet—woman is at the bottom of this mysterious masquerading. Am I right, comrade!”
By this time Manual had discovered that he was safe, and he returned to the conversation with a revival of all his ready wits, which had been strangely paralyzed by his previous disorder in the region of the throat. First bestowing a wicked wink on his companion, and a look that would have outdone the wisest aspect of Solomon, he replied;
“Ah! woman has much to answer for!”
“I knew it,” exclaimed Borroughcliffe; “and this confession only confirms me in the good opinion I have always entertained of myself. If his majesty has any particular wish to close this American business, let him have a certain convention burnt, and a nameless person promoted, and we shall see! But, answer as you love truth; is it a business of holy matrimony, or a mere dalliance with the sweets of Cupid?”
“Of honest wedlock,” said Manual, with an air as serious as if Hymen already held him in his fetters.
“‘Tis honest! Is there money?”
“Is there money?” repeated Manual, with a sort of contemptuous echo. “Would a soldier part with his liberty, but with his life, unless the chains were made of gold?”
“That’s the true military doctrine!” cried the other; “faith, you have some discretion in your amphibious corps, I find! But why this disguise? are the ‘seniors grave,’ as well as ‘potent and reverend?’ Why this disguise, I again ask?”
“Why this disguise!” repeated Manual, coolly: “Is there any such thing as love in your regiment without disguise? With us, it is a regular symptom of the disease.”
“A most just and discreet description of the passion, my amphibious comrade!” said the English officer; “and yet the symptoms in your case are attended by some very malignant tokens. Does your mistress love tar?”
“No; but she loveth me; and, of course, whatever attire I choose to appear in.”
“Still discreet and sagacious! and yet only a most palpable feint to avoid my direct attack. You have heard of such a place as Gretna Green, a little to the north of this, I dare say, my aquatic comrade. Am I right?”
“Gretna Green!” said Manual, a little embarrassed by his ignorance; “some parade-ground, I suppose?”
“Ay, for those who suffer under the fire of Master Cupid. A parade-ground! well, there is some artful simplicity in that! But all will not do with an old campaigner. It is a difficult thing to impose on an old soldier, my water-battery. Now listen and answer; and you shall see what it is to possess a discernment—therefore deny nothing. You are in love?”
“I deny nothing,” said Manual, comprehending at once that this was his safest course.
“Your mistress is willing, and the money is ready, but the old people say, halt!”
“I am still mute!”
“Tis prudent. You say march—Gretna Green is the object; and your flight is to be by water!”
“Unless I can make my escape by water, I shall never make it,” said Manual, with another sympathetic movement with his hand to his throat.
“Keep mute; you need tell me nothing. I can see into a mystery that is as deep as a well, to-night. Your companions are hirelings; perhaps your shipmates; or men to pilot you on this expedition!”
“One is my shipmate, and the other is our pilot,” said Manual, with more truth than usual.
“You are well provided. One thing more, and I shall become mute in my turn. Does she whom you seek lie in this house?”
“She does not; she lies but a short distance from this place; and I should be a happy fellow could I but once more put foot——”
“Eyes on her. Now listen, and you shall have your wish. You possess the ability to march yet, which, considering the lateness of the hour, is no trifling privilege; open that window—is it possible to descend from it?”
Manual eagerly complied, but he turned from the place in disappointment.
“It would be certain death to attempt the leap. The devil only could escape from it.”
“So I should think,” returned Borroughcliffe, dryly. “You must be content to pass for that respectable gentleman for the rest of your days, in St. Ruth’s Abbey. For through that identical hole must you wing your flight on the pinions of love.”
“But how! The thing is impossible.”
“In imagination only. There is some stir, a good deal of foolish apprehension, and a great excess of idle curiosity, among certain of the tenants of this house, on your account. They fear the rebels, who, we all know, have not soldiers enough to do their work neatly at home, and who, of course, would never think of sending any here. You wish to be snug—I wish to serve a brother in distress. Through that window you must be supposed to fly—no matter how; while by following me you can pass the sentinel, and retire peaceably, like any other mortal, on your own two stout legs.”
This was a result that exceeded all that Manual had anticipated from their amicable but droll dialogue; and the hint was hardly given, before he threw on the garments that agitation had before rendered such encumbrances; and in less time than we have taken to relate it, the marine was completely equipped for his departure. In the mean time, Captain Borroughcliffe raised himself to an extremely erect posture, which he maintained with the inflexibility of a rigid martinet. When he found himself established on his feet, the soldier intimated to his prisoner that he was ready to proceed. The door was instantly opened by Manual, and together they entered the gallery.
“Who comes there?” cried the sentinel, with a vigilance and vigor that he intended should compensate for his previous neglect of duty.
“Walk straight, that he may see you,” said Borroughcliffe, with much philosophy.
“Who goes there?” repeated the sentinel, throwing his musket to a poise, with a rattling sound that echoed along the naked walls.
“Walk crooked,” added Borroughcliffe, “that if he fire he may miss.”
“We shall be shot at, with this folly,” muttered Manual.
“We are friends, and your officer is one of us.”
“Stand, friends—advance, officer, and give the counter-sign,” cried the sentinel.
“That is much easier said than done,” returned his captain; “forward, Mr. Amphibious, you can walk like a postman—move to the front, and proclaim the magical word, ‘loyalty;’ ‘tis a standing countersign, ready furnished to my hands by mine hosts the colonel; your road is then clear before you—but hark——”
Manual made an eager step forward, when, recollecting himself, he turned, and added: “My assistants, the seamen! I can do nothing without them.”
“Lo! the keys are in the doors, ready for my admission,” said the Englishman; “turn them, and bring out your forces.”
Quick as thought, Manual was in the room of Griffith, to whom he briefly communicated the situation of things, when he reappeared in the passage, and then proceeded on a similar errand to the room of the Pilot.
“Follow, and behave as usual,” he whispered; “say not a word, but trust all to me.”
The Pilot arose, and obeyed these instructions without asking a question, with the most admirable coolness.
“I am now ready to proceed,” said Manual, when they had joined Borroughcliffe.