The Red Rover & Other Sea Adventures – 3 Novels in One Volume. Джеймс Фенимор Купер
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impression; nor, to confess the truth, had our adventurer any doubt that curiosity had drawn so many inquiring countenances from their respective places of concealment. He had not much leisure, however, to reflect on all these little accompaniments of his situation, before he was rejoined by his former companion, who, to all appearance, was again left, with himself, to the entire possession of the deck.
“You know the trouble of getting off the people from the shore,” the officer observed, “when a ship is ready to sail.”
“You seem to have a summary method of hoisting them in,” returned Wilder.
“Ah! you speak of the fellow on the whip? Your eyes are good, friend, to tell a jack-knife from a marling-spike, at this distance. But the lad was mutinous; that is, not absolutely mutinous—but, drunk. As mutinous as a man can well be, who can neither speak, sit, nor stand.”
Then, as if as well content with his humour as with this simple explanation, the other laughed and chuckled, in a manner that showed he was in perfect good humour with himself.
“But all this time you are left on deck,” he quickly added, “and the Captain is waiting your appearance in the cabin: Follow; I will be your pilot.”
“Hold,” said Wilder; “will it not be as well to announce my visit?”
“He knows it already: Little takes place aboard, here, that does not reach his ears before it gets into the log-book.”
Wilder made no further objection, but indicated his readiness to proceed. The other led the way to the bulkhead which separated the principal cabin from the quarter-deck of the ship; and, pointing to a door, he rather whispered than said aloud,—
“Tap twice; if he answer, go in.”
Wilder did as he was directed. His first summons was either unheard or disregarded. On repeating it, he was bid to enter. The young seaman opened the door, with a crowd of sensations, that will find their solution in the succeeding parts of our narrative and instantly stood, under the light of a powerful lamp, in the presence of the stranger in green.
Chapter VI
“The good old plan,
That they should get, who have the power,
And they should keep, who can.”
—Wordsworth
The apartment, in which our adventurer now found himself, afforded no bad illustration of the character of its occupant. In its form, and proportions it was a cabin of the usual size and arrangements; but, in its furniture and equipments, it exhibited a singular admixture of luxury and martial preparation. The lamp, which swung from the upper deck, was of solid silver; and, though adapted to its present situation by mechanical ingenuity, there was that, in its shape and ornaments, which betrayed it had once been used before some shrine of a far more sacred character. Massive candlesticks of the same precious metal, and which partook of the same ecclesiastical formation, were on a venerable table, whose mahogany was glittering with the polish of half a century, and whose gilded claws, and carved supporters, bespoke an original destination very different from the ordinary service of a ship. A couch, covered with cut velvet, stood along the transom; while a divan, of blue silk, lay against the bulkhead opposite, manifesting, by its fashion, its materials, and its piles of pillows, that even Asia had been made to contribute to the ease of its luxurious owner. In addition to these prominent articles, there were cut glass, mirrors, plate, and even hangings; each of which, by something peculiar in its fashion or materials, bespoke an origin different from that of its neighbour. In short, splendour and elegance seemed to have been much more consulted than propriety, or conformity in taste, in the selection of most of those articles, which had been, oddly enough, made to contribute to the caprice or to the comfort of their singular possessor.
In the midst of this medley of wealth and luxury, appeared the frowning appendages of war. The cabin included four of those dark cannon whose weight and number had been first to catch the attention of Wilder. Notwithstanding they were placed in such close proximity to the articles of ease just enumerated, it only needed a seaman’s eye to perceive that they stood ready for instant service, and that five minutes of preparation would strip the place of all its tinsel, and leave it a warm and well protected battery. Pistols, sabres, half-pikes, boarding-axes and all the minor implements of marine warfare, were arranged about the cabin in such a manner as to aid in giving it an appearance of wild embellishment, while, at the same time, each was convenient to the hand.
Around the mast was placed a stand of muskets, and strong wooden bars, that were evidently made to fit in brackets on either side of the door, sufficiently showed that the bulkhead might easily be converted into a barrier. The entire arrangement proclaimed that the cabin was considered the citadel of the ship. In support of this latter opinion, appeared a hatch, which evidently communicated with the apartments of the inferior officers, and which also opened a direct passage into the magazine. These dispositions, a little different from what he had been accustomed to see, instantly struck the eye of Wilder, though leisure was not then given to reflect on their uses and objects.
There was a latent expression of satisfaction, something modified, perhaps, by irony, on the countenance of the stranger in green, (for he was still clad as when first introduced to the reader,) as he arose, on the entrance of his visiter. The two stood several moments without speaking, when the pretended barrister saw fit to break the awkward silence.
“To what happy circumstance is this ship indebted for the honour of such a visit?” he demanded.
“I believe I may answer, To the invitation of her Captain,” Wilder answered, with a steadiness and calmness equal to that displayed by the other.
“Did he show you his commission, in assuming that office? They say, at sea, I believe, that no cruiser should be found without a commission.”
“And what say they at the universities on this material point?”
“I see I may as well lay aside my gown, and own the marling-spike!” returned the other, smiling, “There is something about the trade—profession, though, I believe, is your favourite word—there is something about the profession, which betrays us to each other. Yes, Mr Wilder,” he added with dignity motioning to his guest to imitate his example, and take a seat, “I am, like yourself, a seaman bred and happy am I to add, the Commander of this gallant vessel.”
“Then, must you admit that I have not intruded without a sufficient warrant.”
“I confess the same. My ship has filled your eye agreeably; nor shall I be slow to acknowledge, that I have seen enough about your air, and person, to make me wish to be an older acquaintance. You want service?”
“One should be ashamed of idleness in these stirring times.”
“It is well. This is an oddly-constructed world in which we live, Mr Wilder! Some think themselves in danger, with a foundation beneath them no less solid than terra firma, while others are content to trust their fortunes on the sea. So, again, some there are who believe praying is the business of man; and then come others who are sparing of their breath, and take those favours for themselves which they have not always the leisure or the inclination to ask for. No doubt you thought it prudent to inquire into the nature of our trade, before you came hither in quest of employment?”
“You are said to be a slaver, among the townsmen of Newport.”
“They are never wrong, your village gossips! If witchcraft ever truly existed on earth, the first of the cunning tribe has been a village innkeeper; the second, its doctor; and the third, its priest. The right to the fourth honour may be disputed between the barber and the tailor.—Roderick!”
The Captain accompanied the word by which he so unceremoniously interrupted himself, by striking a light blow on a Chinese gong, which, among other curiosities, was suspended from one of the beams of the upper deck, within reach of his hand.