Afloat and Ashore, James Fenimore Cooper [romantic story to read TXT] 📗

they should ever wish to sail with you, were they again compelled to go to sea."

Now, this was viewing my relation to the Mertons in any point of view but that in which I wished it to be viewed, or indeed was just. Still it was natural; and the gentleman who spoke, a man of standing and character, no doubt fancied he was, saying that which must prove particularly acceptable to me; another proof how dangerous it is to attempt to decide on other men's feelings or affairs. I could not decline the discourse; and, while the Wallingford went slowly past the Gull, I was compelled to endure the torment of hearing the Mertons mentioned, again and again, in the hearing of Lucy and Grace; on the nerves of the latter of whom I knew it must be a severe trial. At length we got rid of this troublesome neighbour, though not until Lucy and her father were recognised and spoken to by several of the ladies in the other party. While my late guardian and his daughter were thus engaged, I stole a glance at my sister. She was pale as death, and seemed anxious to go below, whither I led her, most happily, I have every reason to think, as things turned out.

When the Wallingford had left the Gull some little distance astern, I returned to the deck, and Lucy went to take my place by the side of Grace's berth. She reappeared, however; in a very few minutes, saying that my sister felt an inclination to rest herself, and might fall asleep. Feeble, almost, as an infant, these frequent slumbers had become necessary, in a measure, to the patient's powers. Chloe coming up soon after with a report that her young mistress seemed to be in a doze, we all remained on deck, in order not to disturb her. In this manner, half an hour passed, and we had drawn quite near to another sloop that was going in the same direction with ourselves. At this moment, Mr. Hardinge was deeply immersed in his sermon, and I perceived that Lucy looked at him, from time to time, as if she expected to catch his eye. I fancied something distressed her, and yet it was not easy to imagine exactly what it could be.

"Do you not intend to go nearer the other sloop?" Lucy at length inquired, alluding to the vessel that was almost in a line with us; but to which I had ordered Neb to give a respectable berth.

"I thought the gossip of the last quite sufficient; but, if you like these interviews, certainly."

Lucy seemed embarrassed; she coloured to her temples, paused a moment, and then added, affecting to laugh--and it was so seldom Lucy affected anything, but this time she did affect to laugh--as she said--

"I do wish to go near that sloop; though it is not exactly for the reason you suppose."

I could see she was distressed, though it was not yet easy to imagine the cause. Lucy's requests were laws to me, and Neb was ordered to sheer down on the quarter of this second sloop, as we had done on that of the first. As we drew near, her stern told us that she was called the "Orpheus of Sing-Sing," a combination of names that proved some wag had been connected with the christening. Her decks had also a party of both sexes on them, though neither carriage nor horses. All this time, Lucy stood quite near me, as if reluctant to move, and when we were sufficiently near the sloop, she pressed still nearer to my side, in the way in which her sex are apt to appeal to those of the other who possess their confidence, when most feeling the necessity of support.

"Now, Miles," she said, in an under tone, " you must 'speak that sloop,' as you call it; I can never hold a loud conversation of this sort, in the presence of so many strangers."

"Very willingly, Lucy; though you will have the goodness to let me know exactly what I am to say."


"Certainly--begin then, in your sailor fashion, and when that is done, I will tell you what to add."

"Enough--Orpheus, there?" I called out, just raising my voice sufficiently to be heard.

"Ay, ay,--what's wanted?" answered the skipper, taking a pipe from his mouth, as he leaned with his back against his own tiller, in a way that was just in accordance with the sleepy character of the scene.

I looked at Lucy, as much as to say, "what next?"

"Ask him if Mrs. Drewett is on board his sloop-- Mrs. Andrew Drewett, not Mr. --The old lady, I mean," added the dear girl, blushing to the eyes.

I was so confounded--I might almost add appalled, that it was with great difficulty I suppressed an exclamation. Command myself, I did, however, and observing that the skipper was curiously awaiting my next question, I put it.

"Is Mrs . Andrew Drewett among your passengers, sir?" I inquired with a cold distinctness.

My neighbour nodded his head, and spoke to some of his passengers, most of whom were on the main-deck, seated on chairs, and concealed from us, as yet, by the Wallingford's main-sail, her boom being guyed out on the side next the Orpheus, with its end just clear of her quarter.

"She is, and wishes to know who makes the inquiry?" returned the Sing-Sing skipper, in the singsong manner in which ordinary folk repeat what is dictated.

"Say that Miss Hardinge has a message to Mrs. Drewett from Mrs. Ogilvie, who is on board that other sloop," added Lucy, in a low, and, as I thought, tremulous tone.

I was nearly choked; but made out to communicate the fact, as directed. In an instant I heard the foot of one who leaped on the Orpheus's quarter-deck, and then Andrew Drewett appeared, hat in hand, a face all smiles, eyes that told his tale as plain as any tongue could have uttered it, and such salutations as denoted the most perfect intimacy. Lucy took my arm involuntarily, and I could feel that she trembled. The two vessels were now so near, and everything around us was so tranquil, that by Lucy's advancing to the Wallingford's quarter-deck, and Drewett's coming to the taffrail of the Orpheus, it was easy to converse without any unseemly raising of the voice. All that had been said between me and the skipper, indeed, had been said on a key but little higher than common. By the change in Lucy's position, I could no longer see her face; but I knew it was suffused, and that she was far from being as composed and collected as was usual with her demeanour. All this was death to my recent happiness, though I could not abstain from watching what now passed, with the vigilance of jealousy.

"Good-morning," Lucy commenced, and the words were uttered in a tone that I thought bespoke great familiarity, if not confidence; "will you have the goodness to tell your mother that Mrs. Ogilvie begs she will not leave Albany until after her arrival. The other sloop, Mrs. Ogilvie thinks, cannot be more than an hour or two after you, and she is very desirous of making a common party to--ah! there comes Mrs. Drewett," said Lucy, hastily interrupting herself, "and I can deliver my message, myself."

Mrs. Drewett coming aft at this instant, Lucy certainly did turn to her, and communicated a message, which it seems the lady in the Gull had earnestly requested her to deliver in passing.

"And now," returned Mrs. Drewett, when Lucy had ceased, first civilly saluting me, "and now, my dear Lucy, we have something for you. So sudden was your departure, on the receipt of that naughty letter," my letter, summoning the dear girl to the bed-side of her friend, was meant, "that you left your work-box behind you, and, as I knew it contained many notes besides bank-notes, I would not allow it to be separated from me, until we met. Here it is; in what manner shall we contrive to get it into your hands?"

Lucy started, and I could see that she both felt and looked anxious. As I afterwards learned, she had been passing a day at Mrs. Drewett's villa, which joined her own, both standing on the rocks quite near to that spot which a mawkish set among us is trying to twist from plain homely, up-and-down, old fashioned Hell Gate, into the exquisite and lackadaisical corruption of Hurl Gate--Heaven save the mark! What puny piece of folly and affectation will they attempt next?--but Lucy was paying this visit when she received my letter, and it appears such was her haste to get to Grace, that she quitted the house immediately, leaving behind her a small work-box, unlocked , and in it various papers that she did not wish read. Of course, one of Lucy's sentiments and tone, could hardly suspect a lady, and Mrs. Drewett was strictly that, of rummaging her box or of reading her notes and letters; but one is never easy when such things can be supposed to be in the way of impertinent eyes. There are maids as well as mistresses, and I could see, in a moment, that she wished the box was again in her own possession. Under the circumstances, therefore, I felt it was time to interfere.

"If your sloop will round-to, Mr. Drewett," I remarked, receiving a cold salutation from the gentleman, in return for my own bow, the first sign of recognition that had passed between us, "I will round-to, myself, and send a boat for the box."

This proposal drew all eyes towards the skipper, who was still leaning against his tiller, smoking for life or death. I was not favourably received, extorting a grunt in reply, that any one could understand denoted dissent. The pipe was slowly removed, and the private opinion of this personage was pretty openly expressed, in his Dutchified dialect.

"If a body coult get a wint for der askin', dis might do very well," he said; "but nobody rounts-to mit a fair wind."

I have always remarked that they who have used a dialect different from the common forms of speech in their youth, and come afterwards to correct it, by intercourse with the world, usually fall back into their early infirmities in moments of trial, perplexity, or anger. This is easily explained. Habit has become a sort of nature, in their childhood, and it is when most tried that we are the most natural. Then, this skipper, an Albany--or Al bon ny man, as he would probably have styled himself, had got down the river as far as Sing-Sing, and had acquired a tolerable English; but, being now disturbed, he fell back upon his original mode of speaking, the certain proof that he would never give in. I saw at once the hopelessness of attempting to persuade one of his school, and had begun to devise some other scheme for getting the box on board, when to my surprise, and not a little to my concern, I saw Andrew Drewett, first taking the box from his mother, step upon the end of our main-boom, and move along the spar with the evident intention to walk as far as our deck and deliver Lucy her property with his own hands. The whole thing occurred so suddenly, that there was no time for remonstrance. Young gentlemen who are thoroughly in love, are not often discreet in matters connected with their devotion to their mistresses. I presume Drewett saw the