CHAPTER III.
In such a time as this it is not meet That every nice offence should bear its comment. _Shakespeare_
The cliffs threw their dark shadows wide on the waters, and the gloomof the evening had so far advanced as to conceal the discontent thatbrooded over the ordinarily open brow of Barnstable as he sprang fromthe rocks into the boat, and took his seat by the side of the silentpilot. "Shove off," cried the lieutenant, in tones that his men knewmust be obeyed. "A seaman's curse light on the folly that exposes planksand lives to such navigation; and all to burn some old timberman, orcatch a Norway trader asleep! give way, men, give way!"
Notwithstanding the heavy and dangerous surf that was beginning totumble in upon the rocks in an alarming manner, the startled seamensucceeded in urging their light boat over the waves, and in a fewseconds were without the point where danger was most to be apprehended.Barnstable had seemingly disregarded the breakers as they passed, butsat sternly eyeing the foam that rolled by them in successive surges,until the boat rose regularly on the long seas, when he turned his looksaround the bay in quest of the barge.
"Ay, Griffith has tired of rocking in his pillowed cradle," he muttered,"and will give us a pull to the frigate, when we ought to be getting theschooner out of this hard-featured landscape. This is just such a placeas one of your sighing lovers would doat on; a little land, a littlewater, and a good deal of rock. Damme, long Tom, but I am more than halfof your mind, that an island now and then is all the terra firma that aseaman needs."
"It's reason and philosophy, sir," returned the sedate cockswain; "andwhat land there is, should always be a soft mud, or a sandy ooze, inorder that an anchor might hold, and to make soundings sartin. I havelost many a deep-sea, besides hand leads by the dozen, on rocky bottoms;but give me the roadstead where a lead comes up light and an anchorheavy. There's a boat pulling athwart our forefoot, Captain Barnstable;shall I run her aboard or give her a berth, sir?"
"'Tis the barge!" cried the officer; "Ned has not deserted me, afterall!"
A loud hail from the approaching boat confirmed this opinion, and in afew seconds the barge and whale-boat were again rolling by each other'sside. Griffith was no longer reclining on the cushions of his seats, butspoke earnestly, and with a slight tone of reproach in his manner.
"Why have you wasted so many precious moments, when every minutethreatens us with new dangers? I was obeying the signal, but I heardyour oars, and pulled back to take out the pilot. Have you beensuccessful?"
"There he is; and if he finds his way out, through the shoals, he willearn a right to his name. This bids fair to be a night when a man willneed a spy-glass to find the moon. But when you hear what I have seenon those rascally cliffs, you will be more ready to excuse my delay, Mr.Griffith."
"You have seen the true man, I trust, or we incur this hazard to an evilpurpose."
"Ay, I have seen him that is a true man, and him that is not," repliedBarnstable, bitterly; "you have the boy with you, Griffith--ask him whathis young eyes have seen."
"Shall I!" cried the young midshipman, laughing; "then I have seen alittle clipper, in disguise, out sail an old man-of-war's man in a hardchase, and I have seen a straggling rover in long-togs as much like mycousin----"
"Peace, gabbler!" exclaimed Barnstable in a voice of thunder; "would youdetain the boats with your silly nonsense at a time like this? Away intothe barge, sir, and if you find him willing to hear, tell Mr. Griffithwhat your foolish conjectures amount to, at your leisure."
The boy stepped lightly from the whale-boat to the barge, whither thepilot had already preceded him, and, as he sunk, with a mortified air,by the side of Griffith, he said, in a low voice:
"And that won't be long, I know, if Mr. Griffith thinks and feels on thecoast of England as he thought and felt at home."
A silent pressure of his hand was the only reply that the younglieutenant made, before he paid the parting compliments to Barnstable,and directed his men to pull for their ship.
The boats were separating, and the plash of the oars was already heard,when the voice of the pilot was for the first time raised in earnest.
"Hold!" he cried; "hold water, I bid ye!"
The men ceased their efforts at the commanding tones of his voice, andturning toward the whale-boat, he continued:
"You will get your schooner under way immediately, Captain Barnstable,and sweep into the offing with as little delay as possible. Keep theship well open from the northern headland, and as you pass us, comewithin hail."
"This is a clean chart and plain sailing, Mr. Pilot," returnedBarnstable; "but who is to justify my moving without orders, to CaptainMunson? I have it in black and white, to run the Ariel into thisfeather-bed sort of a place, and I must at least have it by signal orword of mouth from my betters, before my cutwater curls another wave.The road may be as hard to find going out as it was coming in--and thenI had daylight as well as your written directions to steer by."
"Would you lie there to perish on such a night?" said the pilot,sternly. "Two hours hence, this heavy swell will break where your vesselnow rides so quietly."
"There we think exactly alike; but if I get drowned now, I am drownedaccording to orders; whereas, if I knock a plank out of the schooner'sbottom, by following your directions, 'twill be a hole to let in mutiny,as well as sea-water. How do I know but the old man wants another pilotor two."
"That's philosophy," muttered the cockswain of the whale-boat, in avoice that was audible: "but it's a hard strain on a man's conscience tohold on in such an anchorage!"
"Then keep your anchor down, and follow it to the bottom," said thepilot to himself; "it's worse to contend with a fool than a gale ofwind; but if----"
"No, no, sir--no fool neither," interrupted Griffith. "Barnstable doesnot deserve that epithet, though he certainly carries the point of dutyto the extreme. Heave up at once, Mr. Barnstable, and get out of thisbay as fast as possible."
"Ah! you don't give the order with half the pleasure with which I shallexecute it; pull away, boys--the Ariel shall never lay her bones in sucha hard bed, if I can help it."
As the commander of the schooner uttered these words with a cheeringvoice, his men spontaneously shouted, and the whale-boat darted awayfrom her companion, and was soon lost in the gloomy shadows cast fromthe cliffs.
In the mean time, the oarsmen of the barge were not idle, but bystrenuous efforts they forced the heavy boat rapidly through the water,and in a few minutes she ran alongside of the frigate. During thisperiod the pilot, in a voice which had lost all the startling fiercenessand authority it had manifested in his short dialogue with Barnstable,requested Griffith to repeat to him, slowly, the names of the officersthat belonged to his ship. When the young lieutenant had complied withthis request, he observed to his companion:
"All good men and true, Mr. Pilot; and though this business in which youare just now engaged may be hazardous to an Englishman, there are nonewith us who will betray you. We need your services, and as we expectgood faith from you, so shall we offer it to you in exchange."
"And how know you that I need its exercise?" asked the pilot, in amanner that denoted a cold indifference to the subject.
"Why, though you talk pretty good English, for a native," returnedGriffith, "yet you have a small bur-r-r in your mouth that would prickthe tongue of a man who was born on the other side of the Atlantic."
"It is but of little moment where a man is born, or how he speaks,"returned the pilot, coldly, "so that he does his duty bravely and ingood faith."
It was perhaps fortunate for the harmony of this dialogue, thatthe gloom, which had now increased to positive darkness, completelyconcealed the look of scornful irony that crossed the handsome featuresof the young sailor, as he replied: "True, true, so that he does hisduty, as you say, in good faith. But, as Barnstable observed, you mustknow your road well to travel among these shoals on such a night asthis. Know you what water we draw?"
"'Tis a frigate's draught, and I shall ende
avor to keep you in fourfathoms; less than that would be dangerous."
"She's a sweet boat!" said Griffith, "and minds her helm as a marinewatches the eye of his sergeant at a drill; but you must give her roomin stays, for she fore-reaches, as if she would put out the wind's eye."
The pilot attended, with a practised ear, to this description of thequalities of the ship that he was about to attempt extricating from anextremely dangerous situation. Not a syllable was lost on him; andwhen Griffith had ended, he remarked, with the singular coldness thatpervaded his manner:
"That is both a good and a bad quality in a narrow channel. I fear itwill be the latter to-night, when we shall require to have the ship inleading-strings."
"I suppose we must feel our way with the lead?" said Griffith.
"We shall need both eyes and leads," returned the pilot, recurringinsensibly to his soliloquizing tone of voice. "I have been both in andout in darker nights than this, though never with a heavier draught thana half-two."
"Then, by heaven, you are not fit to handle that ship among these rocksand breakers!" exclaimed Griffith; "your men of a light draught neverknow their water; 'tis the deep keel only that finds a channel;--pilot!pilot! beware how you trifle with us ignorantly; for 'tis a dangerousexperiment to play at hazards with an enemy."
"Young man, you know not what you threaten, nor whom," said the pilotsternly, though his quiet manner still remained undisturbed; "you forgetthat you have a superior here, and that I have none."
"That shall be as you discharge your duty," said Griffith; "for if----"
"Peace!" interrupted the pilot; "we approach the ship, let us enter inharmony."
He threw himself back on the cushions when he had said this; andGriffith, though filled with the apprehensions of suffering, either bygreat ignorance or treachery on the part of his companion, smotheredhis feelings so far as to be silent, and they ascended the side of thevessel in apparent cordiality.
The frigate was already riding on lengthened seas, that rolled in fromthe ocean at each successive moment with increasing violence, though hertopsails still hung supinely from her yards; the air, which continuedto breathe occasionally from the land, being unable to shake the heavycanvas of which they were composed.
The only sounds that were audible, when Griffith and the pilot hadascended to the gangway of the frigate, were produced by the sullendashing of the sea against the massive bows of the ship, and the shrillwhistle of the boatswain's mate as he recalled the side-boys, who wereplaced on either side of the gangway to do honor to the entrance of thefirst lieutenant and his companion.
But though such a profound silence reigned among the hundredswho inhabited the huge fabric, the light produced by a dozenbattle-lanterns, that were arranged in different parts of the decks,served not only to exhibit faintly the persons of the crew, but themingled feeling of curiosity and care that dwelt on most of theircountenances.
Large groups of men were collected in the gangways, around the mainmast,and on the booms of the vessel, whose faces were distinctly visible,while numerous figures, lying along the lower yards or bending out ofthe tops, might be dimly traced in the background, all of whom expressedby their attitudes the interest they took in the arrival of the boat.
Though such crowds were collected in other parts of the vessel, thequarter-deck was occupied only by the officers, who were disposedaccording to their several ranks, and were equally silent and attentiveas the remainder of the crew. In front stood a small collection of youngmen, who, by their similarity of dress, were the equals and companionsof Griffith, though his juniors in rank. On the opposite side of thevessel was a larger assemblage of youths, who claimed Mr. Merry as theirfellow. Around the capstan three or four figures were standing, one ofwhom wore a coat of blue, with the scarlet facings of a soldier, andanother the black vestments of the ship's chaplain. Behind these, andnearer the passage to the cabin from which he had just ascended, stoodthe tall, erect form of the commander of the vessel.
After a brief salutation between Griffith and the junior officers, theformer advanced, followed slowly by the pilot, to the place where hewas expected by his veteran commander. The young man removed his hatentirely, as he bowed with a little more than his usual ceremony, andsaid:
"We have succeeded, sir, though not without more difficulty and delaythan were anticipated."
"But you have not brought off the pilot," said the captain, "and withouthim, all our risk and trouble have been in vain."
"He is here," said Griffith, stepping aside, and extending his armtowards the man that stood behind him, wrapped to the chin in his coarsepea-jacket, and his face shadowed by the falling rims of a large hat,that had seen much and hard service.
"This!" exclaimed the captain; "then there is a sad mistake--this is notthe man I would have, seen, nor can another supply his place."
"I know not whom you expected, Captain Munson," said the stranger, ina low, quiet voice; "but if you have not forgotten the day when a verydifferent flag from that emblem of tyranny that now hangs over yontaffrail was first spread to the wind, you may remember the hand thatraised it."
"Bring here the light!" exclaimed the commander, hastily.
When the lantern was extended towards the pilot, and the glare fellstrong on his features, Captain Munson started, as he beheld the calmblue eye that met his gaze, and the composed but pallid countenance ofthe other. Involuntarily raising his hat, and baring his silver locks,the veteran cried:
"It is he! though so changed----"
"That his enemies did not know him," interrupted the pilot, quickly;then touching the other by the arm as he led him aside, he continued,in a lower tone, "neither must his friends, until the proper hour shallarrive."
Griffith had fallen back to answer the eager questions of his messmates,and no part of this short dialogue was overheard by the officers, thoughit was soon perceived that their commander had discovered his error, andwas satisfied that the proper man had been brought on board his vessel.For many minutes the two continued to pace a part of the quarter-deck,by themselves, engaged in deep and earnest discourse.
As Griffith had but little to communicate, the curiosity of hislisteners was soon appeased, and all eyes were directed toward thatmysterious guide, who was to conduct them from a situation alreadysurrounded by perils, which each moment not only magnified inappearance, but increased in reality.