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

last winter, Lucy, had more or less of this manner."

"I dare say it would seem so to us ; notwithstanding, it may be very agreeable to those who are used to it--a thing to miss, when one gets much accustomed to it."

As Lucy made this remark, I detected a furtive and timid glance at myself. I was mystified at the time, and was actually so silly as to think the dear girl was talking at me, and to feel a little resentment. I fancied she wished to say, "There, Master Miles, you have been in London, and on a desert island in the South Seas--the very extremes of human habits--and have got to be so sophisticated, so very un-Clawbonnyish, as to feel the necessity of a manner , in the young ladies with whom you associate." The notion nettled me to a degree that induced me to pretend duty, and to hurry down to the ship. Whom should I meet, in Rector Street, but Mr. Hardinge, who had been across to the Hudson in search of me.

"Come hither, Miles," said the excellent old man, "I wish to converse with you seriously."

As Lucy was uppermost in my thoughts at the moment, I said to myself--"What can the dear old gentleman have to say, now?"

"I hear from all quarters the best accounts of you, my dear boy," Mr. Hardinge continued, "and I am told you make a very superior seaman. It is a feather in your cap, indeed, to have commanded an Indiaman a twelve-month before you are of age. I have been conversing with my old friend John Murray, of the house of John Murray and Sons, one of the very best merchants in America, and he says 'push the boy ahead, when you find the right stuff in him. Get him a ship of his own, and that will put him on the true track. Teach him early to have an eye to his own interests, and it will make a man of him, at once.' I have thought the matter over, have had a vessel in my eye, for the last month, and will purchase her at once, if you like the plan."

"But, have I money enough for such a thing, my dear sir--after having sailed in the John, and the Tigris, and the Crisis, I should not like to take up with any of your B's, No. 2."

"You have forgotten to mention the 'Pretty Poll,' Miles," said the divine, smiling. "Be under no fear, however, for your dignity; the vessel I have in treaty, is all you could wish, they tell me, having made but one voyage, and is sold on account of the death of her owner. As for money, you will remember I have thirteen thousand dollars of your income invested in stocks, and stocks that cost but ten. The peace has brought everything up, and you are making money, right and left. How have your own pay and private venture turned out?"

"Perfectly well, sir. I am near three thousand dollars in pocket, and shall have no need to call on you, for my personal wants. Then I have my prize-money to touch. Even Neb, wages and prize-money, brings me nine hundred dollars. With your permission, sir, I should like to give the fellow his freedom."

"Wait till you are of age, Miles, and then you can do as you please. I hold four thousand dollars of your invested money, which has been paid in, and I have placed it in stocks. Altogether, I find we can muster, in solid cash, more than twenty thousand dollars, while the price of the ship, as she stands, almost ready for sea, is only fifteen. Now, go and look at the vessel; if you like her, I will close the bargain at once."

"But, my dear Mr. Hardinge, do you think yourself exactly qualified to judge of the value of a ship?"

"Poh! poh! don't imagine I am so conceited as to purchase on my own knowledge. I have taken some of the very best advice of the city. There is John Murray, to begin with--a great ship-holder, himself--and Archibald Gracie, and William Bayard--all capital judges, have taken an interest in the affair. Three others of my friends have walked round to look at the vessel, and all approve--not a dissenting voice."

"May I ask, sir, who have seen her, besides the gentlemen you have named? they, I admit, are, indeed, good judges."

"Why?--why--yes--do you happen to know anything of Dr. Benjamin Moore, now, Miles?"

"Never heard of him, sir, in my life; but a physician can be no great judge of a ship."

"No more of a physician than yourself, boy--Dr. Benjamin Moore, the gentleman we elected Bishop, while you were absent--"

"Oh! he you wished to toast, instead of Miss Peggy Perott--" cried I, smiling. "Well, what does the Bishop think of her--if he approve, she must be orthodox."

"He says she is the handsomest vessel he ever laid eyes on, Miles; and let me tell you, the favourable opinion of so good a man as Dr. Moore, is of value, even though it be about a ship."

I could not avoid laughing, and I dare say most of the readers will also, at this touch of simplicity; and yet, why should not a Bishop know as much of ships, as a set of ignoramuses who never read a theological book in their lives, some of them not even the Bible, should know about Bishops? The circumstance was not a tittle more absurd than many that are occurring daily before our eyes, and to which, purely from habit, we submit, very much as a matter of course.

"Well, sir," I replied, as soon as I could, "I will look at the ship, get her character, and give you an answer at once. I like the idea, for it is pleasant to be one's own master."

In that day, $15,000 would buy a very excellent ship, as ships went. The vessel I was taken to see, was coppered and copper-fastened, butt-bolted, and she measured just five hundred tons. She had a great reputation as a sailer, and what was thought a good deal of in 1802, was Philadelphia built. She had been one voyage to China, and was little more than a year old, or the best possible age for a vessel. Her name was the "Dawn," and she carried an "Aurora" for her figure-head. Whether she were, or were not inclined to Puseyism, I never could ascertain, although I can affirm she had the services of the Protestant Episcopal Catholic Church read on board her afterwards, on more than one occasion.

The result of my examination and inquiries was favourable, and, by the end of the week, the Dawn was purchased. The owners of the Crisis were pleased to express their regrets, for they had intended that I should continue in the command of their vessel, but no one could object to a man's wishing to sail in his own employment. I made this important acquisition, at what was probably the most auspicious moment of American navigation. It is a proof of this, that, the very day I was put in possession of the ship, good freights were offered to no less than four different parts of the world. I had my choice between Holland, France, England, and China. After consulting with my guardian, I accepted that to France, which not only paid the best, but I was desirous of seeing more of the world than had yet fallen to my share. I could make a voyage to Bordeaux and back in five months, and by the end of that time I should be of age, and consequently my own master. As I intended to have great doings at Clawbonny on that occasion, I thought it might be well not to go too far from home. Accordingly, after shipping Talcott and the Philadelphian, whose name was Walton, for my mates, we began to take in cargo, as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I bethought me of a visit to the paternal home. It was a season of the year, when most people, who were anybodies, left town, and the villas along the shores of the Hudson had long been occupied. Mr. Hardinge, too, pined for the country and his flock. The girls had had enough of town, which was getting to be very dull, and everybody, Rupert excepted, seemed anxious to go up the river. I had invited the Mertons to pass part of the summer at the farm, moreover, and it was time the invitation should be renewed, for the Major's physicians had advised him to choose some cooler residence than the streets of a hot close town could furnish, during the summer months. Emily had been so much engrossed with the set into which she had fallen, since her landing, and which it was easy for me to see was altogether superior to that in which she had lived at home, that I was surprised at the readiness with which she urged her father to redeem his promise.

"Mr. Hardinge tells me, sir, that Clawbonny is really a pretty spot," she said, "and the country around it is thought to be very healthy. You cannot get answers from home (she meant England) for several months, and I know Captain Wallingford will be happy to receive us. Besides, we are pledged to accept this additional favour from him."

I thought Major Merton felt some of my own surprise at Emily's earnestness and manner, but his resistance was very feeble. The old gentleman's health, indeed, was pretty thoroughly undermined, and I began to have serious doubts of his living even to return to Europe. He had some relatives in Boston, and had opened a correspondence with them, and I had thought, more than once, of the expediency of apprising them of his situation. At present however nothing better could be done than to get him into the country.

Having made all the arrangements with the others, I went to persuade Rupert to be of the party, for I thought it would make both Grace and Lucy so much the happier.

"Miles, my dear fellow," said the young student, gaping, "Clawbonny is certainly a capitalish place, but, you will admit it is somewhat stupid after New York. My good kinswoman, Mrs. Bradfort, has taken such a fancy to us all, and has made me so comfortable--would you believe it, boy, she has actually given me six hundred a year, for the last two years, besides making Lucy presents fit for a queen. A sterling woman is she, this cousin Margaret of ours!"

I heard this, truly, not without surprise; for, in settling with my owners, I found Rupert had drawn every cent to which he was entitled, under the orders I had left when I last went to sea.

As Mrs. Bradfort was more than at her ease, however, had no nearer relative than Mr. Hardinge, and was much attached to the family, I had no difficulty in believing it true, so far as the lady's liberality was concerned. I heartily wished Rupert had possessed more self-respect; but he was, as he was!

"I am sorry you cannot go with us," I answered, "for I counted on you to help amuse the Mertons--"

"The Mertons!--Why, surely, they are not going to pass the summer at Clawbonny!"

"They quit town with us, to-morrow. Why should not the Mertons pass the summer at Clawbonny?"

"Why, Miles, my dear boy, you know how it is with the world--how it is with these English, in particular. They think everything of rank, you