hat, and bowing to his fair interrogator, as he uttered the latter word with much emphasis, “I would hesitate to let her embark in that ship. On my honour Ladies, I do assure you, that I think this very vessel in more danger than any ship which has left, or probably will leave, a port in the Provinces this autumn.”
“This is extraordinary!” observed Mrs Wyllys. “It is not the character we have received of the vessel, which has been greatly exaggerated, or she is entitled to be considered as uncommonly convenient and safe. May I ask, sir, on what circumstances you have founded this opinion?”
“They are sufficiently plain. She is too lean in the harping, and too full in the counter, to steer. Then, she in as wall-sided as a church, and stows too much above the water-line. Besides this, she carries no head-sail, but all the press upon her will be aft, which will jam her into the wind, and, more than likely, throw her aback. The day will come when that ship will go down stern foremost.”
His auditors listened to this opinion, which Wilder delivered in an oracular and very decided manner, with that sort of secret faith, and humble dependence, which the uninstructed are so apt to lend to the initiated in the mysteries of any imposing profession. Neither of them had certainly a very clear perception of his meaning; but there were, apparently, danger and death in his very words Mrs de Lacey felt it incumbent on her peculiar advantages, however, to manifest how well she comprehended the subject.
“These are certainly very serious evils!” she exclaimed. “It is quite unaccountable that my agent should have neglected to mention them. Is there any other particular quality, sir, that strikes your eye at this distance, and which you deem alarming?”
“Too many. You observe that her top-gallant masts are fidded abaft; none of her lofty sails set flying; and then, Madam, she has depended on bobstays and gammonings for the security of that very important part of a vessel, the bowsprit.”
“Too true! too true!” said Mrs de Lacey, in a sort of professional horror. “These things had escaped me; but I see them all, now they are mentioned. Such neglect is highly culpable; more especially to rely on bobstays and gammonings for the security of a bowsprit! Really, Mrs Wyllys, I can never consent that my niece should embark in such a vessel.”
The calm, penetrating eye of Wyllys had been riveted on the countenance of Wilder while he was speaking, and she now turned it, with undisturbed serenity, on the Admiral’s widow, to reply.
“Perhaps the danger has been a little magnified,” she observed. “Let us inquire of this other seaman what he thinks on these several points.—And do you see all these serious dangers to be apprehended, friend, in trusting ourselves, at this season of the year, in a passage to the Carolinas, aboard of yonder ship?”
“Lord, Madam!” said the gray-headed mariner, with a chuckling laugh, “these are new-fashioned faults and difficulties, if they be faults and difficulties at all! In my time, such matters were never heard of; and I confess I am so stupid as not to understand the half the young gentleman has been saying.”
“It is some time, I fancy, old man, since you were last at sea,” Wilder coolly observed.
“Some five or six years since the last time, and fifty since the first,” was the answer.
“Then you do not see the same causes for apprehension?” Mrs Wyllys once more demanded.
“Old and worn out as I am, Lady, if her Captain will give me a birth aboard her, I will thank him for the same as a favour.”
“Misery seeks any relief,” said Mrs de Lacey, in an under tone, and bestowing on her companions a significant glance. “I incline to the opinion of the younger seaman; for he supports it with substantial, professional reasons.”
Mrs Wyllys suspended her questions, just as long as complaisance to the last speaker seemed to require and then she resumed them as follows, addressing her next inquiry to Wilder.
“And how do you explain this difference in judgment, between two men who ought both to be so well qualified to decide right?”
“I believe there is a well-known proverb which will answer that question,” returned the young man, smiling: “But some allowance must be made for the improvements in ships; and, perhaps, some little deference to the stations we have respectively filled on board them.”
“Both very true. Still, one would think the changes of half a dozen years cannot be so very considerable, in a profession that is so exceedingly ancient.”
“Your pardon, Madam. They require constant practice to know them. Now, I dare say that yonder worthy old tar is ignorant of the manner in which a ship, when pressed by her canvas, is made to ‘cut the waves with her taffrail.’”
“Impossible!” cried the Admiral’s widow; “the youngest and the meanest mariner must have been struck with the beauty of such a spectacle.”
“Yes, yes,” returned the old tar, who wore the air of an offended man, and who, probably, had he been ignorant of any part of his art, was not just then in the temper to confess it; “many is the proud ship that I have seen doing the very same; and, as the lady says, a grand and comely sight it is!”
Wilder appeared confounded. He bit his lip, like one who was over-reached either by excessive ignorance or exceeding cunning; but the self-complacency of Mrs de Lacey spared him the necessity of an immediate reply.
“It would have been an extraordinary circumstance truly,” she said, “that a man should have grown white-headed on the seas, and never have been struck with so noble a spectacle. But then, my honest tar, you appear to be wrong in overlooking the striking faults in yonder ship, which this, a—a—this gentleman has just, and so properly, named.”
“I do not call them faults, your Ladyship. Such is the way my late brave and excellent Commander always had his own ship rigged; and I am bold to say that a better seaman, or a more honest man, never served in his Majesty’s fleet.”
“And you have served the King! How was your beloved Commander named?”
“How should he be! By us, who knew him well, he was called Fair-weather: for it was always smooth water, and prosperous times, under his orders; though, on shore, he was known as the gallant and victorious Rear-Admiral de Lacey.”
“And did my late revered and skilful husband cause his ships to be rigged in this manner?” said the widow, with a tremour in her voice, that bespoke how much, and how truly, she was overcome by surprise and gratified pride.
The aged tar lifted his bending frame from the stone, and bowed low, as he answered,—“If I have the honour of seeing my Admiral’s Lady, it will prove a joyful sight to my old eyes. Sixteen years did I serve in his own ship, and five more in the same squadron. I dare say your Ladyship may have heard him speak of the captain of his main-top, Bob Bunt.”
“I dare say—I dare say—He loved to talk of those who served him faithfully.”
“Ay, God bless him, and make his memory glorious! He was a kind officer, and one that never forgot a friend, let it be that his duty kept him on a yard or in the cabin. He was the sailor’s friend, that very same Admiral!”
“This is a grateful man,” said Mrs de Lacey, wiping her eyes, “and I dare say a competent judge of a vessel. And are you quite sure, worthy friend, that my late revered husband had all his ships arranged like the one of which we have been talking?”
“Very sure, Madam; for, with my own hands, did I assist to rig them.”
“Even to the bobstays?”
“And the gammonings, my Lady. Were the Admiral alive, and here, he would call yon ‘a safe and well-fitted ship,’ as I am ready to swear.”
Mrs de Lacey turned, with an air of great dignity and entire decision, to Wilder, as she continued,—“I have, then, made a small mistake in memory which is not surprising, when one recollects, that he who taught me so much of the profession is no longer here to continue his lessons. We are much obliged to you, sir, for your