The Red Rover & Other Sea Adventures – 3 Novels in One Volume. Джеймс Фенимор Купер
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yes, we are all very happy here.”
“It is well. A discontented ship is no paradise. And you are often in port, Roderick, to taste the sweets of the land?”
“I care but little for the land, Madam, could I only have friends in the ship that love me.”
“And have you not? Is not Mr Wilder your friend?”
“I know but little of him; I never saw him before”—
“When, Roderick?”
“Before we met in Newport.”
“In Newport?”
“Surely you know we both came from Newport, last.”
“Ah! I comprehend you. Then, your acquaintance with Mr Wilder commenced at Newport? It was while your ship was lying off the fort?”
“It was. I carried him the order to take command of the Bristol trader. He had only joined us the night before.”
“So lately! It was a young acquaintance indeed. But I suppose your Commander knew his merits?”
“It is so hoped among the people. But”—
“You were speaking, Roderick.”
“None here dare question the Captain for his reasons. Even I am obliged to be mute.”
“Even you!” exclaimed Mrs Wyllys, in a surprise that for the moment overcame her self-restraint. But the thought in which the boy was lost appeared to prevent his observing the sudden change in her manner. Indeed, so little did he know what was passing, that the governess touched the hand of Gertrude, and silently pointed out the insensible figure of the lad, without the slightest apprehension that the movement would be observed.
“What think you, Roderick,” continued his interrogator “would he refuse to answer us also?”
The boy started; and, as consciousness shot into his glance, it fell upon the soft and speaking countenance of Gertrude.
“Though her beauty be so rare,” he answered with vehemence, “let her not prize it too highly. Woman cannot tame his temper!”
“Is he then so hard of heart? Think you that a question from this fair one would be denied?”
“Hear me, Lady,” he said, with an earnestness that was no less remarkable than the plaintive softness of the tones in which he spoke; “I have seen more, in the last two crowded years of my life, than many youths would witness between childhood and the age of man. This is no place for innocence and beauty. Oh! quit the ship, if you leave it as you came, without a deck to lay your head under!”
“It may be too late to follow such advice,” Mrs Wyllys gravely replied, glancing her eye at the silent Gertrude as she spoke. “But tell me more of this extraordinary vessel. Roderick, you were not born to fill the station in which I find you?”
The boy shook his head, but remained with downcast eyes, apparently not disposed to answer further on such a subject.
“How is it that I find the ‘Dolphin’ bearing different hues to-day from what she did yesterday? and why is it that neither then, nor now, does she resemble in her paint, the slaver of Newport harbour?”
“And why is it,” returned the boy, with a smile in which melancholy struggled powerfully with bitterness “that none can look into the secret heart of him who makes those changes at will? If all remained the same, but the paint of the ship, one might still be happy in her!”
“Then, Roderick, you are not happy: Shall I intercede with Captain Heidegger for your discharge?”
“I could never wish to serve another.”
“How! Do you complain, and yet embrace your fetters?”
“I complain not.”
The governess eyed him closely; and, after a moment’s pause, she continued,—
“Is it usual to see such riotous conduct among the crew as we have this day witnessed?”
“It is not. You have little to fear from the people; he who brought them under knows how to keep them down.”
“They are enlisted by order of the King?”
“The King! Yes, he is surely a King who has no equal.”
“But they dared to threaten the life of Mr Wilder. Is a seaman, in a King’s ship, usually so bold?”
The boy glanced a look at Mrs Wyllys; as if he would say, he understood her affected ignorance of the character of the vessel, but again he chose to continue silent.
“Think you, Roderick,” continued the governess, who no longer deemed it necessary to pursue her covert inquiries on that particular subject; “think you, Roderick, that the Rov—that is, that Captain Heidegger will suffer us to land at the first port which offers?”
“Many have been passed since you reached the ship.”
“Ay, many that are inconvenient; but, when one shall be gained where his pursuits will allow his ship to enter?”
“Such places are not common.”
“But, should it occur, do you not think he will permit us to land? We have gold to pay him for his trouble.”
“He cares not for gold. I never ask him for it; that he does not fill my hand.”
“You must be happy, then. Plenty of gold will compensate for a cold look at times.”
“Never!” returned the boy, with quickness and energy. “Had I the ship filled with the dross, I would give it all to bring a look of kindness into his eye.”
Mrs Wyllys started, no less at the fervid manner of the lad than at the language. Rising from her seat, she approached nigher to him, and in a situation where the light of the lamp fell full upon his lineaments. She saw the large drop that broke out from beneath a long and silken lash, to roll down a cheek which, though embrowned by the sun, was deepening with a flush that gradually stole into it, as her own gaze became more settled; and then her eyes fell slowly and keenly along the person of the lad, until they reached even the delicate feet, that seemed barely able to uphold him. The usually pensive and mild countenance of the governess changed to a look of cold regard, and her whole form appeared to elevate itself, in chaste matronly dignity, as she sternly asked,—
“Boy, have you a mother?”
“I know not,” was the answer that came from lips that scarcely severed to permit the smothered sounds to escape.
“It is enough; another time I will speak further to you. Cassandra will in future do the service of this cabin; when I have need of you, the gong shall be touched.”
The head of Roderick fell nearly to his bosom He shrunk from before that cold and searching eye which followed his form, until it had disappeared through the hatch, and whose look was then bent rapidly, and not without a shade of alarm, on the face of the wondering but silent Gertrude.
A gentle tap at the door broke in upon the flood of reflection which was crowding on the mind of the governess. She gave the customary answer; and, before time was allowed for any interchange of ideas between her and her pupil, the Rover entered.
Chapter XXIII
“I melt, and am not of stronger earth than others.”
—Coriolanus
The females received their visiter with a restraint which will be easily understood when the subject of their recent conversation is recollected. The sinking of Gertrude’s form was deep and hurried, but her governess maintained the coldness of her air with greater