The Red Rover & Other Sea Adventures – 3 Novels in One Volume. Джеймс Фенимор Купер
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which were constructed on the quarters of the ship, and answered to the summons by announcing his presence.
“Has the boat returned?”
The reply was in the affirmative.
“And has she been successful?”
“The General is in his room, sir, and can give you an answer better than I.”
“Then, let the General appear, and report the result of his campaign.”
Wilder was by far too deeply interested, to break the sudden reverie into which his companion had now evidently fallen, even by breathing as loud as usual. The boy descended through the hatch like a serpent gliding into his hole, or, rather, a fox darting into his burrow, and then a profound stillness reigned in the cabin. The Commander of the ship leaned his head on his hand, appearing utterly unconscious of the presence of any stranger. The silence might have been of much longer duration, had it not been interrupted by the appearance of a third person. A straight, rigid form slowly elevated itself through the little hatchway, very much in the manner that theatrical spectres are seen to make their appearance on the stage, until about half of the person was visible, when it ceased to rise, and turned its disciplined countenance on the Captain.
“I wait for orders,” said a mumbling voice, which issued from lips that were hardly perceived to move.
Wilder started as this unexpected individual appeared; nor was the stranger wanting in an aspect sufficiently remarkable to produce surprise in any spectator. The face was that of a man of fifty, with the lineaments rather indurated than faded by time. Its colour was an uniform red, with the exception of one of those expressive little fibrous tell-tales on each cheek, which bear so striking a resemblance to the mazes of the vine, and which would seem to be the true origin of the proverb which says that “good wine needs no bush.” The head was bald on its crown; but around either ear was a mass of grizzled hair, pomatumed and combed into formal military bristles. The neck was long, and supported by a black stock; the shoulders, arms, and body were those of a man of tall stature; and the whole were enveloped in an over-coat, which, though it had something methodical in its fashion, was evidently intended as a sort of domino. The Captain raised his head as the other spoke, exclaiming,—
“Ah! General, are you at your post? Did you find the land?”
“Yes.”
“And the point?—and the man?”
“Both.”
“And what did you?”
“Obey orders.”
“That was right.—You are a jewel for an executive officer, General; and, as such, I wear you near my heart. Did the fellow complain?”
“He was gagged.”
“A summary method of closing remonstrance. It is as it should be, General; as usual, you have merited my approbation.”
“Then reward me for it.”
“In what manner? You are already as high in rank as I can elevate you. The next step must be knighthood.”
“Pshaw! my men are no better than militia. They want coats.”
“They shall have them. His Majesty’s guards shall not be half so well equipt. General, I wish you a good night.”
The figure descended, in the same rigid, spectral manner as it had risen on the sight, leaving Wilder again alone with the Captain of the ship. The latter seemed suddenly struck with the fact that this odd interview had occurred in the presence of one who was nearly a stranger, and that, in his eyes at least, it might appear to require some explanation.
“My friend,” he said, with an air something explanatory while it was at the same time not a little naughty, “commands what, in a more regular cruiser, would be called the ‘marine guard.’ He has gradually risen, by service, from the rank of a subaltern, to the high station which he now fills. You perceive he smells of the camp?”
“More than of the ship. Is it usual for slavers to be so well provided with military equipments? I find you armed at all points.”
“You would know more of us, before we proceed to drive our bargain?” the Captain answered, with a smile. He then opened a little casket that stood on the table, and drew from it a parchment, which he coolly handed to Wilder, saying, as he did so, with one of the quick, searching glances of his restless eye, “You will see, by that, we have ‘letters of marque,’ and are duly authorized to fight the battles of the King, while we are conducting our own more peaceable affairs.”
“This is the commission of a brig!”
“True, true. I have given you the wrong paper. I believe you will find this more accurate.”
“This is truly a commission for the ‘good ship Seven Sisters;’ but you surely carry more than ten guns, and, then, these in your cabin throw nine instead of four pound shot!”
“Ah! you are as precise as though you had been the barrister, and I the blundering seaman. I dare say you have heard of such a thing as stretching a commission,” continued the Captain drily, as he carelessly threw the parchment back among a pile of similar documents. Then, rising from his seat, he began to pace the cabin with quick steps, as he continued, “I need not tell you, Mr Wilder, that ours is a hazardous pursuit. Some call it lawless. But, as I am little addicted to theological disputes, we will wave the question. You have not come here without knowing your errand.”
“I am in search of a birth.”
“Doubtless you have reflected well on the matter and know your own mind as to the trade in which you would sail. In order that no time may be wasted and that our dealings may be frank, as becomes two honest seamen, I will confess to you, at once, that I have need of you. A brave and skilful man, one older, though, I dare say, not better than yourself occupied that larboard state-room, within the month; but, poor fellow, he is food for fishes ere this.”
“He was drowned?”
“Not he! He died in open battle with a King’s ship!”
“A King’s ship! Have you then stretched your commission so far as to find a warranty for giving battle to his Majesty’s cruisers?”
“Is there no King but George the Second! Perhaps she bore the white flag, perhaps a Dane. But he was truly a gallant fellow; and there lies his birth, as empty as the day he was carried from it, to be cast into the sea. He was a man fit to succeed to the command, should an evil star shine on my fate, I think I could die easier, were I to know this noble vessel was to be transmitted to one who would make such use of her as should be.”
“Doubtless your owners would provide a successor in the event of such a calamity.”
“My owners are very reasonable,” returned the other, with a meaning smile, while he cast another searching glance at his guest, which compelled Wilder to lower his own eyes to the cabin floor; “they seldom trouble me with importunities, or orders.”
“They are indulgent! I see that flags were not forgotten in your inventory: Do they also give you permission to wear any one of all those ensigns, as you may please?”
As this question was put, the expressive and understanding looks of the two seamen met. The Captain drew a flag from the half-open locker, where it had caught the attention of his visiter, and, letting the roll unfold itself on the deck, he answered,—
“This is the Lily of France, you see. No bad emblem of your stainless Frenchman. An escutcheon of pretence without spot, but, nevertheless, a little soiled by too much use. Here, you have the calculating Dutchman; plain, substantial, and cheap. It is a flag I little like. If the ship be of value, her owners are not often willing to dispose of her without a price. This is your swaggering Hamburgher. He is rich in the possession of one town, and makes his boast of it, in these towers. Of the rest of his mighty possessions he wisely says nothing in his allegory These are the Crescents of Turkey; a moon-struck nation, that believe themselves the inheritors