Jack Tier, James Fenimore Cooper [top 10 most read books in the world TXT] 📗
- Author: James Fenimore Cooper
Book online «Jack Tier, James Fenimore Cooper [top 10 most read books in the world TXT] 📗». Author James Fenimore Cooper
the right--she knew of no reason, however, why the captain should dread any other vessel, and felt sufficiently provoked to question him a little on the subject, if it were only to let him see that the niece was not as completely his dupe as the aunt. She had not been on deck five minutes, therefore, during which time several expressions had escaped the two sailors touching their apprehensions of vessels seen in the distance, ere she commenced her inquiries.
"And why should we fear meeting with other vessels?" Rose plainly demanded--"here in Long Island Sound, and within the power of the laws of the country?"
"Fear?" exclaimed Spike, a little startled, and a good deal surprised at this straight-forward question--"Fear, Miss Rose! You do not think we are afraid, though there are many reasons why we do not wish to be spoken by certain craft that are hovering about. In the first place, you know it is war time--I suppose you know, Madam Budd, that America is at war with Mexico?"
"Certainly," answered the widow, with dignity--"and that is a sufficient reason, Rose, why one vessel should chase, and another should run. If you had heard your poor uncle relate, as I have done, all his chasings and runnings away, in the war times, child, you would understand these things better. Why, I've heard your uncle say that, in some of his long voyages, he has run thousands and thousands of miles, with sails set on both sides, and all over his ship!"
"Yes, aunty, and so have I, but that was `running before the wind,' as he used to call it."
"I s'pose, however, Miss Rose," put in Spike, who saw that the niece would soon get the better of the aunt;--"I s'pose, Miss Rose, that you'll acknowledge that America is at war with Mexico?"
"I am sorry to say that such is the fact, but I remember to have heard you say, yourself, Captain Spike, when my aunt was induced to undertake this voyage, that you did not consider there was the smallest danger from any Mexicans."
"Yes, you did, Captain Spike," added the aunt--"you did say there was no danger from Mexicans."
"Nor is there a bit, Madam Budd, if Miss Rose, and your honoured self, will only hear me. There is no danger, because the brig has the heels of anything Mexico can send to sea. She has sold her steamers, and, as for anything else under her flag, I would not care a straw."
"The steamer from which we ran, last evening, and which actually fired off a cannon at us, was not Mexican, but American," said Rose, with a pointed manner that put Spike to his trumps.
"Oh! that steamer--" he stammered--"that was a race--only a race, Miss Rose, and I wouldn't let her come near me, for the world. I should never hear the last of it, in the insurance offices, and on 'change, did I let her overhaul us. You see, Miss Rose--you see, Madam Budd--" Spike ever found it most convenient to address his mystifying discourse to the aunt, in preference to addressing it to the niece--"You see, Madam Budd, the master of that craft and I are old cronies--sailed together when boys, and set great store by each other. We met only last evening, just a'ter I had left your own agreeable mansion, Madam Budd, and says he, `Spike, when do you sail?' `To-morrow's flood, Jones,' says I--his name is Jones;--Peter Jones, and as good a fellow as ever lived. `Do you go by the Hook, or by Hell-Gate--'"
"Hurl-Gate, Captain Spike, if you please--or Whirl-Gate, which some people think is the true sound; but the other way of saying it is awful."
"Well, the captain, my old master, always called it Hell-Gate, and I learned the trick from him--"
"I know he did, and so do all sailors; but genteel people, now-a-days, say nothing but Hurl-Gate, or Whirl-Gate."
Rose smiled at this; as did Mulford; but neither said anything, the subject having once before been up between them. As for ourselves, we are still so old-fashioned as to say, and write, Hell-Gate, and intend so to do, in spite of all the Yankees that have yet passed through it, or who ever shall pass through it, and that is saying a great deal. We do not like changing names to suit their uneasy spirits.
"Call the place Hurl-Gate, and go on with your story," said the widow, complacently.
"Yes, Madam Budd--`Do you go by the Hook, or by Whirl-Gate?' said Jones. `By Whirl-a-Gig-Gate,' says I. `Well,' says he, `I shall go through the Gate myself, in the course of the morning. We may meet somewhere to the eastward, and, if we do, I'll bet you a beaver,' says he, `that I show you my stern.' `Agreed,' says I, and we shook hands upon it. That's the whole history of our giving the steamer the slip, last night, and of my not wishing to let her speak me."
"But you went into a bay, and let her go past you," said Rose, coolly enough as to manner, but with great point as to substance. "Was not that a singular way of winning a race?"
"It does seem so, Miss Rose, but it's all plain enough, when understood. I found that steam was too much for sails, and I stood up into the bay to let them run past us, in hopes they would never find out the trick. I care as little for a hat as any man, but I do care a good deal about having it reported on 'change that the Molly was beat, by even a steamer."
This ended the discourse for the moment, Clench again having something to say to his captain in private.
"How much of that explanation am I to believe, and how much disbelieve?" asked Rose, the instant she was left alone with Harry. "If it be all invention, it was a ready and ingenious story."
"No part of it is true. He no more expected that the steamer would pass through Hell-Gate, than I expected it myself. There was no bet, or race, therefore; but it was our wish to avoid Uncle Sam's cruiser, that was all."
"And why should you wish any such thing?"
"On my honour, I can give you no better reason, so far as I am concerned, than the fact that, wishing to keep clear of her, I do not like to be overhauled. Nor can I tell you why Spike is so much in earnest in holding the revenue vessel at arm's length; I know he dislikes all such craft, as a matter of course, but I can see no particular reason for it just now. A more innocent cargo was never stuck into a vessel's hold."
"What is it?"
"Flour; and no great matter of that. The brig is not half full, being just in beautiful ballast trim, as if ready for a race. I can see no sufficient reason, beyond native antipathy, why Captain Spike should wish to avoid any craft, for it is humbug his dread of a Mexican, and least of all, here, in Long Island Sound. All that story about Jones is a tub for whales."
"Thank you for the allusion; my aunt and myself being the whales."
"You know I do mean--can mean nothing, Rose, that is disrespectful to either yourself or your aunt."
Rose looked up, and she looked pleased. Then she mused in silence, for some time, when she again spoke.
"Why have you remained another voyage with such a man, Harry?" she asked, earnestly.
"Because, as his first officer, I have had access to your house, when I could not have had it otherwise; and because I have apprehended that he might persuade Mrs. Budd, as he had boasted to me it was his intention to do, to make this voyage."
Rose now looked grateful; and deeply grateful did she feel, and had reason to feel. Harry had concealed no portion of his history from her. Like herself, he was a shipmaster's child, but one better educated and better connected than was customary for the class. His father had paid a good deal of attention to the youth's early years, but had made a seaman of him, out of choice. The father had lost his all, however, with his life, in a shipwreck; and Harry was thrown upon his own resources, at the early age of twenty. He had made one or two voyages as a second mate, when chance threw him in Spike's way, who, pleased with some evidences of coolness and skill, that he had shown in a foreign port, on the occasion of another loss, took him as his first officer; in which situation he had remained ever since, partly from choice and partly from necessity. On the other hand, Rose had a fortune; by no means a large one, but several thousands in possession, from her own father, and as many more in reversion from her uncle. It was this money, taken in connection with the credulous imbecility of the aunt, that had awakened the cupidity, and excited the hopes of Spike. After a life of lawless adventure, one that had been chequered by every shade of luck, he found himself growing old, with his brig growing old with him, and little left beside his vessel and the sort of half cargo that was in her hold. Want of means, indeed, was the reason that the flour-barrels were not more numerous.
Rose heard Mulford's explanation favourably, as indeed she heard most of that which came from him, but did not renew the discourse, Spike's conference with the boatswain just then terminating. The captain now came aft, and began to speak of the performances of his vessel in a way to show that he took great pride in them.
"We are travelling at the rate of ten knots, Madam Budd," he said exultingly, "and that will take us clear of the land, before night shuts in ag'in. Montauk is a good place for an offing; I ask for no better."
"Shall we then have two offings, this voyage, Captain Spike?" asked Rose, a little sarcastically. "If we are in the offing now, and are to be in the offing when we reach Montauk, there must be two such places."
"Rosy, dear, you amaze me!" put in the aunt. "There is no offing until the pilot is discharged, and when he's discharged there is nothing but offing. It's all offing. On the Sound, is the first great change that befalls a vessel as she goes to sea; then comes the offing; next the pilot is discharged--then--then--what comes next, Captain Spike?"
"Then the vessel takes her departure--an old navigator like yourself, Madam Budd, ought not to forget the departure."
"Quite true, sir. The departure is a very important portion of a seaman's life. Often and often have I heard my poor dear Mr. Budd talk about his departures. His departures, and his offings and his--"
"Land-falls," added Spike, perceiving that the shipmaster's relict was a little at fault.
"Thank you, sir; the hint is quite welcome. His landfalls, also, were often in his mouth."
"What is a land-fall, aunty?" inquired Rose--"It appears a strange term to be used by one who lives on the water."
"Oh! there is no end to the curiosities of sailors! A `land-fall,' my dear, means a shipwreck, of course. To fall on the land, and a very unpleasant fall it is, when a vessel should keep on the water. I've heard of dreadful land-falls in my day, in which hundreds of souls have been swept into eternity, in an instant."
"And why should we fear meeting with other vessels?" Rose plainly demanded--"here in Long Island Sound, and within the power of the laws of the country?"
"Fear?" exclaimed Spike, a little startled, and a good deal surprised at this straight-forward question--"Fear, Miss Rose! You do not think we are afraid, though there are many reasons why we do not wish to be spoken by certain craft that are hovering about. In the first place, you know it is war time--I suppose you know, Madam Budd, that America is at war with Mexico?"
"Certainly," answered the widow, with dignity--"and that is a sufficient reason, Rose, why one vessel should chase, and another should run. If you had heard your poor uncle relate, as I have done, all his chasings and runnings away, in the war times, child, you would understand these things better. Why, I've heard your uncle say that, in some of his long voyages, he has run thousands and thousands of miles, with sails set on both sides, and all over his ship!"
"Yes, aunty, and so have I, but that was `running before the wind,' as he used to call it."
"I s'pose, however, Miss Rose," put in Spike, who saw that the niece would soon get the better of the aunt;--"I s'pose, Miss Rose, that you'll acknowledge that America is at war with Mexico?"
"I am sorry to say that such is the fact, but I remember to have heard you say, yourself, Captain Spike, when my aunt was induced to undertake this voyage, that you did not consider there was the smallest danger from any Mexicans."
"Yes, you did, Captain Spike," added the aunt--"you did say there was no danger from Mexicans."
"Nor is there a bit, Madam Budd, if Miss Rose, and your honoured self, will only hear me. There is no danger, because the brig has the heels of anything Mexico can send to sea. She has sold her steamers, and, as for anything else under her flag, I would not care a straw."
"The steamer from which we ran, last evening, and which actually fired off a cannon at us, was not Mexican, but American," said Rose, with a pointed manner that put Spike to his trumps.
"Oh! that steamer--" he stammered--"that was a race--only a race, Miss Rose, and I wouldn't let her come near me, for the world. I should never hear the last of it, in the insurance offices, and on 'change, did I let her overhaul us. You see, Miss Rose--you see, Madam Budd--" Spike ever found it most convenient to address his mystifying discourse to the aunt, in preference to addressing it to the niece--"You see, Madam Budd, the master of that craft and I are old cronies--sailed together when boys, and set great store by each other. We met only last evening, just a'ter I had left your own agreeable mansion, Madam Budd, and says he, `Spike, when do you sail?' `To-morrow's flood, Jones,' says I--his name is Jones;--Peter Jones, and as good a fellow as ever lived. `Do you go by the Hook, or by Hell-Gate--'"
"Hurl-Gate, Captain Spike, if you please--or Whirl-Gate, which some people think is the true sound; but the other way of saying it is awful."
"Well, the captain, my old master, always called it Hell-Gate, and I learned the trick from him--"
"I know he did, and so do all sailors; but genteel people, now-a-days, say nothing but Hurl-Gate, or Whirl-Gate."
Rose smiled at this; as did Mulford; but neither said anything, the subject having once before been up between them. As for ourselves, we are still so old-fashioned as to say, and write, Hell-Gate, and intend so to do, in spite of all the Yankees that have yet passed through it, or who ever shall pass through it, and that is saying a great deal. We do not like changing names to suit their uneasy spirits.
"Call the place Hurl-Gate, and go on with your story," said the widow, complacently.
"Yes, Madam Budd--`Do you go by the Hook, or by Whirl-Gate?' said Jones. `By Whirl-a-Gig-Gate,' says I. `Well,' says he, `I shall go through the Gate myself, in the course of the morning. We may meet somewhere to the eastward, and, if we do, I'll bet you a beaver,' says he, `that I show you my stern.' `Agreed,' says I, and we shook hands upon it. That's the whole history of our giving the steamer the slip, last night, and of my not wishing to let her speak me."
"But you went into a bay, and let her go past you," said Rose, coolly enough as to manner, but with great point as to substance. "Was not that a singular way of winning a race?"
"It does seem so, Miss Rose, but it's all plain enough, when understood. I found that steam was too much for sails, and I stood up into the bay to let them run past us, in hopes they would never find out the trick. I care as little for a hat as any man, but I do care a good deal about having it reported on 'change that the Molly was beat, by even a steamer."
This ended the discourse for the moment, Clench again having something to say to his captain in private.
"How much of that explanation am I to believe, and how much disbelieve?" asked Rose, the instant she was left alone with Harry. "If it be all invention, it was a ready and ingenious story."
"No part of it is true. He no more expected that the steamer would pass through Hell-Gate, than I expected it myself. There was no bet, or race, therefore; but it was our wish to avoid Uncle Sam's cruiser, that was all."
"And why should you wish any such thing?"
"On my honour, I can give you no better reason, so far as I am concerned, than the fact that, wishing to keep clear of her, I do not like to be overhauled. Nor can I tell you why Spike is so much in earnest in holding the revenue vessel at arm's length; I know he dislikes all such craft, as a matter of course, but I can see no particular reason for it just now. A more innocent cargo was never stuck into a vessel's hold."
"What is it?"
"Flour; and no great matter of that. The brig is not half full, being just in beautiful ballast trim, as if ready for a race. I can see no sufficient reason, beyond native antipathy, why Captain Spike should wish to avoid any craft, for it is humbug his dread of a Mexican, and least of all, here, in Long Island Sound. All that story about Jones is a tub for whales."
"Thank you for the allusion; my aunt and myself being the whales."
"You know I do mean--can mean nothing, Rose, that is disrespectful to either yourself or your aunt."
Rose looked up, and she looked pleased. Then she mused in silence, for some time, when she again spoke.
"Why have you remained another voyage with such a man, Harry?" she asked, earnestly.
"Because, as his first officer, I have had access to your house, when I could not have had it otherwise; and because I have apprehended that he might persuade Mrs. Budd, as he had boasted to me it was his intention to do, to make this voyage."
Rose now looked grateful; and deeply grateful did she feel, and had reason to feel. Harry had concealed no portion of his history from her. Like herself, he was a shipmaster's child, but one better educated and better connected than was customary for the class. His father had paid a good deal of attention to the youth's early years, but had made a seaman of him, out of choice. The father had lost his all, however, with his life, in a shipwreck; and Harry was thrown upon his own resources, at the early age of twenty. He had made one or two voyages as a second mate, when chance threw him in Spike's way, who, pleased with some evidences of coolness and skill, that he had shown in a foreign port, on the occasion of another loss, took him as his first officer; in which situation he had remained ever since, partly from choice and partly from necessity. On the other hand, Rose had a fortune; by no means a large one, but several thousands in possession, from her own father, and as many more in reversion from her uncle. It was this money, taken in connection with the credulous imbecility of the aunt, that had awakened the cupidity, and excited the hopes of Spike. After a life of lawless adventure, one that had been chequered by every shade of luck, he found himself growing old, with his brig growing old with him, and little left beside his vessel and the sort of half cargo that was in her hold. Want of means, indeed, was the reason that the flour-barrels were not more numerous.
Rose heard Mulford's explanation favourably, as indeed she heard most of that which came from him, but did not renew the discourse, Spike's conference with the boatswain just then terminating. The captain now came aft, and began to speak of the performances of his vessel in a way to show that he took great pride in them.
"We are travelling at the rate of ten knots, Madam Budd," he said exultingly, "and that will take us clear of the land, before night shuts in ag'in. Montauk is a good place for an offing; I ask for no better."
"Shall we then have two offings, this voyage, Captain Spike?" asked Rose, a little sarcastically. "If we are in the offing now, and are to be in the offing when we reach Montauk, there must be two such places."
"Rosy, dear, you amaze me!" put in the aunt. "There is no offing until the pilot is discharged, and when he's discharged there is nothing but offing. It's all offing. On the Sound, is the first great change that befalls a vessel as she goes to sea; then comes the offing; next the pilot is discharged--then--then--what comes next, Captain Spike?"
"Then the vessel takes her departure--an old navigator like yourself, Madam Budd, ought not to forget the departure."
"Quite true, sir. The departure is a very important portion of a seaman's life. Often and often have I heard my poor dear Mr. Budd talk about his departures. His departures, and his offings and his--"
"Land-falls," added Spike, perceiving that the shipmaster's relict was a little at fault.
"Thank you, sir; the hint is quite welcome. His landfalls, also, were often in his mouth."
"What is a land-fall, aunty?" inquired Rose--"It appears a strange term to be used by one who lives on the water."
"Oh! there is no end to the curiosities of sailors! A `land-fall,' my dear, means a shipwreck, of course. To fall on the land, and a very unpleasant fall it is, when a vessel should keep on the water. I've heard of dreadful land-falls in my day, in which hundreds of souls have been swept into eternity, in an instant."
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