The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea, James Fenimore Cooper [ereader for comics .txt] 📗

face and looked proudly up, with an eye that sparkled with the spirit of its mistress, and a face that grew pale with emotion at each moment, as she proceeded:

“Gentlemen, the one may be as ready to receive as the other is to reject; but has the daughter of John Plowden no voice in this cool disposal of her person? If her guardian tires of her presence, other habitations may be found, without inflicting so severe a penalty on this gentleman as to compel him to provide for her accommodation in a vessel which must be already straitened for room!”

She turned, and rejoined her cousin with such an air of maidenly resentment as a young woman would be apt to discover, who found herself the subject of matrimonial arrangement without her own feelings being at all consulted. Barnstable, who knew but little of the windings of the female heart, or how necessary to his mistress, notwithstanding her previous declarations, the countenance of Cecilia, was to any decided and open act in his favor, stood in stupid wonder at her declaration. He could not conceive that a woman who had already ventured so much in secret in his behalf, and who had so often avowed her weakness, should shrink to declare it again at such a crisis, though the eyes of a universe were on her! He looked from one of the party to the other, and met in every face an expression of delicate reserve, except in those of the guardian of his mistress, and of Borroughcliffe.

The colonel had given a glance of returning favor at her whom he now conceived to be his repentant ward, while the countenance of the entrapped captain exhibited a look of droll surprise, blended with the expression of bitter ferocity it had manifested since the discovery of his own mishap.

“Perhaps, sir,” said Barnstable, addressing the latter, fiercely, “you see something amusing about the person of this lady, to divert you thus unseasonably. We tolerate no such treatment of our women in America!”

“Nor do we quarrel before ours in England,” returned the soldier, throwing back the fierce glance of the sailor with interest; “but I was thinking of the revolutions that time can produce; nothing more, I do assure you. It is not half an hour since I thought myself a most happy fellow; secure in my plans for overreaching the scheme you had laid to surprise me; and now I am as miserable a dog as wears a single epaulette, and has no hope of seeing its fellow!”

“And in what manner, sir, can this sudden change apply to me?” asked Katherine, with all her spirit.

“Certainly not to your perseverance in the project to assist my enemies, madam,” returned the soldier, with affected humility; “nor to your zeal for their success, or your consummate coolness at the supper-table! But I find it is time that I should be superannuated—I can no longer serve my king with credit, and should take to serving my God, like all other worn-out men of the world! My hearing is surely defective, or a paddock-wall has a most magical effect in determining sounds!”

Katherine waited not to hear the close of this sentence, but walked to a distant part of the room to conceal the burning blushes that covered her countenance. The manner in which the plans of Barnstable had become known to his foe was no longer a mystery. Her conscience also reproached her a little with some unnecessary coquetry, as she remembered that quite one-half of the dialogue between her lover and herself, under the shadow of that very wall to which Borroughcliffe alluded, had been on a subject altogether foreign to contention and tumults. As the feelings of Barnstable were by no means so sensitive as those of his mistress, and his thoughts much occupied with the means of attaining his object, he did not so readily comprehend the indirect allusion of the soldier, but turned abruptly away to Griffith, and observed with a serious air:

“I feel it my duty, Mr. Griffith, to suggest that we have standing instructions to secure all the enemies of America, wherever they may be found, and to remind you that the States have not hesitated to make prisoners of females in many instances.”

“Bravo!” cried Borroughcliffe; “if the ladies will not go as your mistresses, take them as your captives!”

“'Tis well for you, sir, that you are a captive yourself, or you should be made to answer for this speech,” retorted the irritated Barnstable. “It is a responsible command, Mr. Griffith, and must not be disregarded.”

“To your duty, Mr. Barnstable,” said Griffith, again rousing from deep abstraction; “you have your orders, sir; let them be executed promptly.”

“I have also the orders of our common superior, Captain Munson, Mr. Griffith; and I do assure you, sir, that in making out my instructions for the Ariel—poor thing! there are no two of her timbers hanging together—but my instructions were decidedly particular on that head.”

“And my orders now supersede them.”

“But am I justifiable in obeying a verbal order from an inferior, in direct opposition to a written instruction?”

Griffith had hitherto manifested in his deportment nothing more than a cold determination to act, but the blood now flew to every vessel in his cheeks and forehead, and his dark eyes flashed fire, as he cried authoritatively:

“How, sir! do you hesitate to obey?”

“By heaven, sir, I would dispute the command of the Continental Congress itself, should they bid me so far to forget my duty to—to—”

“Add yourself, sir!—Mr. Barnstable, let this be the last of it. To your duty, sir.”

“My duty calls me here, Mr. Griffith.”

“I must act, then, or be bearded by my own officers. Mr. Merry, direct Captain Manual to send in a sergeant and a file of marines.”

“Bid him come on himself!” cried Barnstable, maddened to desperation by his disappointment; “'tis not his whole corps that can disarm me—let them come on! Hear, there, you Ariels! rally around your captain.”

“The man among them who dares to cross that threshold without my order, dies,” cried Griffith, menacing with a naked hanger the seamen who had promptly advanced at the call of their old commander. “Yield your sword, Mr. Barnstable, and spare yourself the disgrace of having it forced from you by a common soldier.”

“Let me see the dog who dare attempt it!” exclaimed Barnstable, flourishing his weapon in fierce anger. Griffith had extended his own arm in the earnestness of his feelings, and their hangers crossed each other. The clashing of the steel operated on both like the sound of the clarion on a war-horse, and there were sudden and rapid blows, and as rapid parries, exchanged between the flashing weapons.

“Barnstable! Barnstable!” cried Katherine, rushing into his arms, “I will go with you to the ends of the earth!”

Cecilia Howard did not speak; but when Griffith recovered his coolness, he beheld her beautiful form kneeling at his feet, with her pale face bent imploringly on his own disturbed countenance. The cry of Miss Plowden had separated the combatants, before an opportunity for shedding blood had been afforded; but the young men exchanged looks of keen resentment, notwithstanding the interference of their mistresses. At