"The morning air blows fresh on him:"
"The waves dance gladly in his sight;"
"The sea-birds call, and wheel, and skim--"
"O, blessed morning light!"
"He doth not hear their joyous call; he sees
No beauty in the wave, nor feels the breeze."
DANA.
Truth is, truly, often stranger than fiction. The history of the
circumstances that brought us into the hands of our enemies will fully
show this. La Pauline was a ship of six hundred tons, that carried
letters-of-marque from the French government. She sailed from France a
few weeks after we had left London, bound on a voyage somewhat similar
to our own, though neither sea-otter skins, sandal-wood, nor pearls,
formed any part of her contemplated bargains. Her first destination
was the French islands off Madagascar, where she left part of her
cargo, and took in a few valuables in return. Thence she proceeded to
the Philippine Islands, passing in the track of English and American
traders, capturing two of the former, and sinking them after taking
out such portions of cargo as suited her own views. From Manilla, la
Pauline shaped her course for the coast of South America, intending to
leave certain articles brought from France, others purchased at
Bourbon, the Isle of France, and the Philippines, and divers bales and
boxes found in the holds of her prizes, in that quarter of the world,
in exchange for the precious metals. In effecting all this, Monsieur
Le Compte, her commander, relied, firstly, on the uncommon sailing of
his ship; secondly, on his own uncommon boldness and dexterity, and
thirdly on the well-known disposition of the South Americans to
smuggle. Doubloons and dollars taking up but little room, he reserved
most of the interior of his vessel, after his traffic on the "Main,"
for such property as might be found in the six or eight prizes he
calculated, with certainty, on making, after getting to the eastward
of the Horn. All these well-grounded anticipations had been signally
realized down to a period of just three months to a day, prior to our
own arrival at this unhappy island.
On the night of the day just mentioned, la Pauline, without the
smallest notice of the vicinity of any danger, running in an easy
bowline, and without much sea, had brought up on another part of the
very reef from which we had made so narrow an escape. The rocks being
coral, there was little hope for her; and, in fact, they appeared
through her bottom within two hours after she struck. The sugars taken
in at the Isle of France, as a ground tier of ballast, were soon
rendered of doubtful value, as a matter of course, but the weather
remaining pleasant, Captain Le Compte succeeded, by means of his
boats, in getting everything else of value on the island, and
forthwith set about breaking up the wreck, in order to construct a
craft that might carry himself and his people to some civilized
land. Having plenty of tools, and something like sixty men, great
progress had been made in the work, a schooner of about ninety tons
being then so far completed, as to be nearly ready to be put in the
water. Such was the state of things, when, one fine night, we arrived
in the manner already related. The French kept constant look-outs, and
it seems we were seen, a distant speck on the ocean, just as the sun
set, while the low trees of the island eluded our vigilance. By the
aid of a good night-glass, our movements were watched, and a boat was
about to be sent out to warn us of our danger, when we passed within
the reef. Captain Le Compte knew the chances were twenty to one that
we were an enemy, and he chose to lie concealed to watch the result.
As soon as we had anchored within the basin, and silence prevailed in
the ship, he manned his own gig, and pulled with muffled oars up under
our bows, to reconnoitre. Finding everything quiet, he ventured into
the fore-chains, and thence on deck, accompanied by three of his
men. He found Harris, snoring with his back supported against a
gun-carriage, and immediately secured him. Then, it only remained to
close the forescuttle and the cabin-doors, and to fasten them, to have
us all prisoners below. The boat was sent for more men, and hours
before any of us in the berths were awake, the ship had effectually
changed masters. Harris told our story, and the captors knew our whole
history, from the day of sailing down to the present time.
Much of this I learned in subsequent conversations with the French,
but enough of it was related to me then, to let me understand the
outlines of the truth. My eyes also let me into many secrets. I found
the island, by day-light, substantially as I had supposed it to be. It
was not so large, however, as it had seemed to me by the aid of the
moon, though its general character was the same. The basin in which
the ship lay might have covered a hundred and fifty acres in extent,
the belt of land which encircled it, varying in breadth from a quarter
of a mile to three miles. Most of the island was an open grove, lying
at an elevation of from ten to thirty feet above the ocean; and we
ascertained there were several springs of the sweetest water on
it. Nature, by one of its secret processes, had covered the earth with
a beautiful short grass; and the French, with their usual attention to
the table, and their commendable activity, had already several
materials for salads, &c., in full growth. String-beans might be had
for asking, and _petits pois_ were literally a drug. I saw the
tents of the French, extending in a line beneath the shades of the
trees; and there was la Petite Pauline (the schooner) on her ways,
actually undergoing the process of receiving her first coat of
paint. As for la Pauline, herself, I could just discover her lower
mast-heads, inclining at an angle of forty-five degrees from the
perpendicular, through a vista in the trees.
There was a good-humoured common sense in all the proceedings of
Mons. Le Compte, that showed he was a philosopher in the best sense of
the word. He took things without repining himself, and wished to make
others as happy as circumstances would allow. At his suggestion, I
invited Marble on deck; and, after making my own commander acquainted
with the state of the facts, we both listened to the propositions of
our captor. Mons. Le Compte, all his officers, and not a few of his
men, had been prisoners, some time or other, in England, and there was
no difficulty in carrying on the negotiations in our mother tongue.
"_Votre bâtiment_--your _sheep_, shall become French--_bien
entendu_"--commenced our captor--"vid her _cargaison--rig,_ and _tout
cela. Bien; c'est convenu._ I shall not exact _rigueur_ in _mes
conditions._ If you shall have _possible_ to take your _sheep_ from
_nous autres Français_--_d'accord._ Every man for himself _et sa
nation._ Zere is the _pavillion Français_--and zere it shall fly, so
long as we shall not help--_mais--parole d'honneur_, ze prize come
cheep, and shall be sell very dear--_entendez vous? Bien._ Now, sair,
I shall put you and all your peepl' on ze island, vere you shall take
our place, while we take your place. Ze arm shall be in our hand,
while ze sheep stay, but we leave you _fusils, poudre et tout cela_,
behind."
This was nearly verbatim, the programme of capitulation, as laid down
by Captain Le Compte. As for Marble, it was not in his nature to
acquiesce in such an arrangement, without much cavilling and
contention. But _cui bono?_ We were in Mons. le Compte's hands;
and, though disposed to deal very handsomely by us, it was easy enough
to see he was determined to make his own conditions. I succeeded, at
last, in making Marble understand that resistance was useless; and he
submitted, though with some such grace as a man, who has not been
mesmerized, submits to an amputation--those who _have,_ are said
rather to delight in the amusement.
The terms of the capitulation--and they differed but little from
surrendering at discretion--were no sooner agreed to, than our people
were ordered into the forecastle, whence they were transferred to the
boats, in readiness to be sent ashore. All the chests, and private
effects, were moved out, in the most honourable manner, and sent into
la Pauline's boats, which lay prepared to receive them. As for us
officers, we were put in the gig, Neb and the cabin steward being
charged with the duty of looking after our private property. When
everybody, the blacks excepted, was in a boat, we shoved off, and
proceeded towards the landing, as chop-fallen and melancholy a party
as ever took possession of a newly-discovered country. Marble affected
to whistle, for he was secretly furious at the _nonchalance_
manifested by Captain Le Compte; but I detected him in getting parts
of Monny Musk and the Irish Washerwoman, into the same strain. To own
the truth, the ex-mate was morally much disturbed. As for myself, I
considered the affair as an incident of war, and cared much less.
"_Voila, messieurs_," exclaimed Monsieur Le Compte, flourishing
his arm, with an air of unsurpassed generosity; "you shall be master
here, so soon after we shall go away, and take our leetl' property wid
us!"
"He's d----d generous, Miles," growled Marble, in my ear. "He'll leave
us the island, and the reef, and the cocoa-nuts, when he has gone off
with our ship, and her cargo. I'll bet all I'm worth, he tows off his
bloody schooner, in the bargain."
"There is no use in complaining, sir; and by keeping on good terms
with the French, we may fare the better."
The truth of this was soon apparent. Captain Le Compte invited us all
to share his breakfast, and we repaired to the tent of the French
officers, with that purpose. In the mean time, the French sailors were
transferring the few articles they intended to carry away, to the
ship, with the generous object of leaving their own tents to the
immediate occupation of us prisoners. As Monsieur Le Compte's plan was
to proceed to the Spanish Main, in order to complete his contemplated
traffic in that quarter, no sooner were the tents prepared, than the
French began also to ship such articles of their own, as it had
originally been proposed to exchange for Spanish dollars. In the mean
time, we sat down to breakfast.
"_C'est la fortune de guerre!_--vat you call fortune of war,
_messieurs_," observed Captain Le Compte, whirling the stick in a
vessel of chocolate, in a very artistical manner, all the
while. "_Bon--c'est excellente--Antoin--_"
Antoin appeared in the shape of a well-smoked, copper-coloured
cabin-boy. He was told to take a small pitcher of the chocolate, with
Captain Le Compte's compliments to _mademoiselle_, and to tell
her there was now every prospect of their quitting the island in a
very few days, and of seeing _la belle France_, in the course of
the next four or five months. This was said in French, and rapidly,
with the vehemence of one who felt all he uttered, and more too but I
knew enough of the language to understand its drift.
"I suppose the fellow is generalizing on our misfortunes, in his
d----d lingo," growled Marble; "but, let him look out--he's not home
yet, by many a thousand miles!"
I endeavoured to explain it all to Marble; but it was useless; he
insisted the Frenchman was sending chocolate from his own table, to
his crew, in order to play the magnifico, on the score of his own good
luck. There was no use in "kicking against the pricks," and I let
Marble enjoy the pleasure of believing the worst of his captor; a sort
of Anglo-Saxon propensity, that has garnished many a page in English
and American history--to say nothing of the propensities and histories
of others, among the great family of nations.
When breakfast was over, Monsieur Le Compte led me aside, in a walk
under the trees, to explain his views and intentions. He gave me to
understand I had been selected for this communication, on account of
his observing the state of mind of my captain. I also comprehended a
little French, which was quite convenient in a conversation with one
who interlarded his English so much with phrases taken from his mother
tongue. I was given to understand that the French would put the
schooner into the water that very evening, and that we should find her
masts, rigging, and sails all fitted for her. With activity, she could
be ready to quit the island in a fortnight, at the farthest. A portion
of our own provisions would be landed, as better suited to our habits
than those which had been taken from la Pauline, while a portion of
the last would be transferred to the Crisis, for the same reason, as
applied to the French. As for water-casks, &c., they were all
arranged; everything, of the sort having been taken from the wreck,
with little or no difficulty, immediately after the loss of the
ship. In a word, we should have little more to do, than to step the
masts, rig our craft, stow her hold, and proceed at once to the
nearest friendly port.
"I zink you shall go to Canton," added Monsieur Le Compte. "Ze
distance shall not be much more than to Sout' America; and zere you
shall find plenty of your _compatriotes_. Of course, you can
sleep and go _chez vous_--vat you call 'home,' with _toute la
facilité_. Oui--_cet arrangement est admirable._" So the
arrangement might appear to him, though I confess to a decided
'preference to remaining in the "blind Crisis," as our men had got to
call her, after her blundering through the Straits of Magellan.
"_Allons!_" exclaimed the French captain, suddenly. "We are near
ze tent of Mademoiselle--we shall go and demand how she carry herself
_ce beau matin!_" On looking up, I saw two small tents within
fifty yards of us. They were beautifully placed, in the midst of a
thicker portion of the grove than usual, and near a spring of the most
exquisitely limpid water I ever beheld. These tents were made of new
canvass, and had been fashioned with care and skill. I could see that
the one we first approached was carpeted over, and that it had many of
the appliances of a comfortable abode. Mons. Le Compte, who was really
a good-looking fellow under forty, put on his most amiable appearance
as he got near the canvass-door; and he hemmed once or twice, as
respectfully as he could, by way of letting his presence be known. In
an instant, a maid-servant came out to receive him. The moment I laid
eyes on this woman, it struck me her face was familiar, though I could
not recall the place, or time, where, or when, we had before met. The
occurrence was so singular, that I was still ruminating on it, when I
unexpectedly found myself standing in the tent, face to face with
Emily Merton and her father! We recognised each other at a glance,
and, to Mons. Le Compte's amazement, hearty greetings passed between
us, as old acquaintances. Old acquaintances, however, we could scarce
be called; but, on an uninhabited island in the South Seas, one is
glad to meet any face that he has ever met before. Emily looked less
blooming than when we had parted, near a twelvemonth before, in
London; but she was still pretty and pleasing. Both she and her father
were in mourning, and, the mother not appearing, I at once guessed the
truth. Mrs. Merton was an invalid when I knew her, though I had not
anticipated for her so speedy a death. I thought Captain Le Compte
appeared vexed at my reception. Still, he did not forget his good
manners; and he rose, saying he would leave me with my friends to make
mutual explanations, while he proceeded to overlook the duty of the
day. On taking his leave, I was not pleased to see him approach and
kiss Emily's hand. The act was done respectfully, and not entirely
without grace; but there were a feeling and manner in it that could
not well be mistaken. Emily blushed, as she wished him good morning,
and turning to look at me, in spite of a kind of dog-in-the-manger
sensation, I could not forbear smiling.
"Never, Mr. Wallingford, never!" Emily said, with emphasis, the
instant her admirer was out of hearing. "We are at his mercy, and must
keep terms with him; but I can never marry a _foreigner_."
"That is poor encouragement for Wallingford, my dear," said her
father, laughing, "should he happen to take a fancy to you himself."
Emily looked confused, but, what, for the circumstances, was better
still, she looked concerned.
"I am sure, dear sir," she answered, with a quickness I thought
charming, "I am sure Mr. Wallingford will not suppose I meant anything
so rude. Then, he is no importunate suitor of mine, like this
disagreeable Frenchman, who always seems to me more like a Turkish
master, than like one who really respects a woman. Besides--"
"Besides what, Miss Merton?" I ventured to ask, perceiving that she
hesitated.
"Besides, Americans are hardly foreigners to _us_," added Emily,
smiling; "for we have even American relatives, you know, father."
"Quite true, my dear, and came near being Americans ourselves. Had my
father established himself where he married, as had been his first
intention, such would have been our national character. But, Mons. Le
Compte has given us a moment to tell our stories to each other, and I
think it will not be a very long moment. Let one of us commence, if we
wish the offices done without unpleasant listeners."
Emily urged me to begin, and I did not hesitate. My story was soon
told. Major Merton and his daughter understood all about the capture
of the ship in the basin, though they were ignorant of the vessel's
name. I had only to relate our voyage on the main, and the death of
Captain Williams, therefore, to have my whole story told. I made it
all the shorter, from an impatience to hear the circumstances which
had thrown my friends into their present extraordinary position.
"It seems extraordinary enough, beyond doubt," Major Merton began, the
moment I left him an opening by my closing remark, "but it is all very
simple, when you commence at the right end of the sad story, and
follow events in the order in which they occurred."
"When you left us in London, Wallingford, I supposed we were on the
point of sailing for the West Indies, but a better appointment soon
after offering in the East, my destination was changed to Bombay. It
was important that I should reach my port at as early a day as
possible; and, no regular Indiaman being ready, I took passage in a
licensed running vessel, a ship of no size, or force. Nothing occurred
until we had got within three or four days' sail of our port, when we
fell in with la Pauline, and were captured. At first, I think Captain
Le Compte would have been willing to let me go on parole, but no
opportunity offered, and we went with the ship to Manilla. While
there, the melancholy loss happened, which, no doubt, you have
comprehended from our mourning; and I was strongly in hopes of making
some arrangements that would still enable me to save my
situation. But, by this time, Monsieur Le Compte had become an open
admirer of Emily, and I suppose it is hopeless to expect any
liberation, so long as he can invent excuses to frustrate it."
"I trust he does not abuse his power, in any way, and annoy Miss
Merton with importunities that are unpleasant to her."
Emily rewarded me for the warmth with which I spoke, with a sweet
smile and a slight blush.
"Of that I cannot accuse him, in one sense at least," resumed Major
Merton. "Mons. Le Compte does all for us that his sense of delicacy
can suggest; and it was not possible for passengers to be more
comfortable, or retired, on board ship, than we were in the
Pauline. That vessel had a poop, and its cabin was given up entirely
to our use. At Manilla, I was permitted to go at large, on a mere
verbal assurance of returning; and, in all other particulars, we have
been treated as well as circumstances would very well allow.
Nevertheless, Emily is too young to admire a suitor of forty, too
English to admire a foreigner, and too well-born to accept one who is
merely a merchant sailor--I mean one who is nothing, and has nothing,
but what his ship makes him, or can give him."
I understood Major Merton's distinction; he saw a difference between
the heir of Clawbonny, pursuing his adventures for the love of the
sea, and a man who pursued the sea as an adventurer. It was not very
delicately made, but it was pretty well, as coming from an European to
an American; the latter being assumed _ex gratia_, to be a being
of an inferior order, morally, politically, physically, socially and
in every other sense, but the pecuniary. Thank Heaven! the American
dollar is admitted, pennyweight for pennyweight, to a precedency
immediately next to that of the metal dollar of Europe. It even goes
before the paper _thaler_ of Prussia.
"I can readily imagine Miss Merton would look higher than Captain Le
Compte, for various reasons," I answered, making a sort of
acknowledgment for the distinction in my favour, by bowing
involuntarily, "and I should hope that gentleman would cease to be
importunate as soon as convinced he cannot succeed."
"You do not know a Frenchman, Mr. Wallingford," rejoined Emily. "He is
the hardest creature on earth to persuade into the notion that he is
not adorable."
"I can hardly believe that this weakness extends as far as the
sailors," said I, laughing. "At all events, you will be released the
instant you reach France."
"Sooner too, I trust, Wallingford," resumed the father. "These
Frenchmen can have it their own way, out here in the solitude of the
Pacific; but, once in the Atlantic, I shall expect some British
cruiser to pick us up, long ere we can reach France."
This was a reasonable expectation, and we conversed about it for some
time. I shall not repeat all that passed; but the reader can have no
difficulty in understanding, that Major Merton and myself communicated
to each other every fact that was likely to be of interest to men in
our situation. When I thought it prudent to take my leave, he walked
some distance with me, holding his way to a point on the outer side of
the island, where I could get a view of the wreck. Here he left me,
for the moment, while I proceeded along the beach, ruminating on all
that had passed.
The process by which nature uses her materials to found islands in the
midst of oceans like the Pacific, is a curious study. The insect that
forms the coral rock, must be an industrious little creature, as there
is reason to think that some of the reefs that have become known to
navigators within the last sixty or seventy years, have since been
converted into islands bearing trees, by their labours. Should the
work go on, a part of this vast sea will yet be converted into a
continent; and, who knows but a railroad may yet run across that
portion of our globe, connecting America with the old world? I see
that Captain Beechy, in his voyage, speaks of a wreck that occurred in
1792, on a _reef_, where, in 1826, he found an island near three
leagues long, bearing tall trees. It would be a curious calculation to
ascertain, if one family of insects can make an island three leagues
long, in thirty-four years, how many families it would take to make
the grading of the railroad I have mentioned. Ten years since, I would
not have ventured a hint of this nature, for it might have set
speculation in motion, and been the instrument of robbing more widows
and orphans of their straitened means; but, Heaven be praised! we
have at length reached a period in the history of the country, when a
man may venture on a speculation in the theory of geography without
incurring the risk of giving birth to some wild--if not
unprincipled--speculation in dollars and cents.
As I drew near the outer shore of the island, opposite to the wreck, I
came unexpectedly on Marble. The poor fellow was seated on a raised
projection of coral rock, with his arms folded, and, was in so
thorough a brown study, that he did not even hear my footsteps in
approaching, though I purposely trod heavily, in order to catch his
ear. Unwilling to disturb him, I stood gazing at the wreck myself, for
some little time, the place affording a much better view of it than
any other point from which it had met my eye. The French had made far
greater inroads upon their vessel, than the elements. She had struck
to leeward of the island, and lay in a spot where, indeed, it might
take years to break her entirely up, in that placid sea. Most of her
upper works, however, were gone; and I subsequently discovered that
her own carpenters had managed to get out even a portion of her
floor-timbers, leaving the fabric bound together by those they
left. Her lower masts were standing, but even her lower yards had been
worked up, in order to make something useful for the schooner. The
beach, at no great distance, was still strewed with objects brought
from the reef, and which it had not yet been found necessary to use.
At length a movement of mine attracted Marble's attention, and he
turned his head towards me. He seemed glad I had joined him, and
expressed himself happy, also, that he saw me alone.
"I have been generalizing a little on our condition, Miles," he said,
"and look at it which end forward I may, I find it bad enough; almost
enough to overcome me. I loved that ship, Mr. Wallingford, as much as
some folks love their parents--of wife or children, I never had any--
and the thought that she has fallen into the hands of a Frenchman, is
too much for my natur'. Had it been Smudge, I could have borne up
against it; but, to haul down one's colours to a wrack, and a bloody
French wrack, too, it is superhuman!"
"You must remember all the circumstances, Captain Marble, and you will
find consolation. The ship was surprised, as we surprised the Lady of
Nantes."
"That's just it--put that on a general principle, now, and where are
you? Surprisers mustn't be surprised. Had we set a quarter-watch, sir,
it never could have happened; and nothing less than a quarter-watch
should have been set in a strange haven. What mattered it, that it was
an uninhabited island, and that the ship was land-locked and
well-moored, and the holding-ground was capital? It is all of no
account when you come to look at the affair in the way of duty. Why,
old Robbins, with his rivers in the ocean, would never have been
caught in this miserable manner."
Then Marble fairly gave in, placed his two hard hands on his face, and
I could see tears trickling from beneath them, as if water were
squeezed from a stone.
"The chances of the sea, Captain Marble," I said, greatly shocked at
such an exhibition, coming from such a quarter--"the chances of the
sea are sometimes too much for the best sailors. We should look at
this loss, as we look at the losses occasioned by a gale--then there
is some hope left, after all."
"I should like to know what--to me, there is no land ahead."
"Surprisers may not only be surprised, but they may carry on their old
trade again, and surprise once more, in their turn."
"What do you mean by that, Miles," said Marble, looking up eagerly,
and speaking as quick as lightning; "are you generalizing, or have you
any particular project in view?"
"Both, Sir. Generalizing, so far as taking the chances of war are
concerned, and particularizing, as to a certain notion that has come
into my head."
"Out with the last, Miles--out with it, boy; the Lord made you for
something uncommon."
"First, let me know, Captain Marble, whether you have had any further
conversation with Monsieur Le Compte? whether he has said any more on
the subject of our future proceedings?"
"I just left the grinning rascal--these amiable smiles of his, Miles,
are only so many grins thrown into our faces to let us feel his good
luck; but, d--n him, if I ever get home, I'll fit out a privateer and
be after him, if there's a fast-going schooner to be had in all
America for love or money. I think I'd turn pirate, to catch the
villain!"
Alas! poor Marble. Little would he, who never got higher than a mate,
unless by accident, be likely to persuade your cautious ship-owners to
intrust him with a vessel of any sort, to go tilting against
wind-mills afloat, in that fashion.
"But, why go to America for a schooner, Captain Marble, when the
French are polite enough to give us one here, exactly where we are?"
"I begin to understand you, boy. There is a little consolation in the
idee, but this Frenchman has already got my commission, and without
the document we should be no better than so many pirates."
"I doubt that, sir, even were a ship to act generally, provided she
actually sailed with a commission, and lost it by accident.
Commissions are all registered, and proof of our character could be
found at home."
"Ay, for the Crisis, but not for this 'Pretty Polly'"--for so Marble
translated Petite Pauline--"The commission is only good for the vessel
that is named in it."
"I don't know that, Captain Marble. Suppose our ship had been sunk in
an action in which we took our enemy, could we not continue our voyage
in the prize, and fight anything that came in our way, afterwards?"
"By George, that does look reasonable. Here was I just threatening to
go out as a pirate, yet hesitating about taking my own."
"Do not the crews of captured vessels often rise upon their captors,
and recapture their own vessels? and were any of them ever called
pirates? Besides, nations at war authorise almost every sort of
hostile act against their enemies."
"Miles, I have been mistaken--you _are_ a good seaman, but natur'
meant you for a lawyer! Give me your hand, boy; I see a gleam of hope
ahead, and a man can live on less hope than food."
Marble then told me the substance of the conversation he had held with
Captain Le Compte. The latter had expressed a sudden and violent
impatience to be off--I understood the cause in a moment; he wished to
separate Emily from her old acquaintance, as soon as possible--intending
to put the schooner into the water for us, that very afternoon, and to
sail himself in the morning. This was a sudden resolution, and the
French were moving heaven and earth to carry it into effect. I confess
to some little regret at hearing it, for it was pleasant to meet the
Mertons in that unexpected manner, and the influence of woman in such
a solitude is unusually great. I now told Marble of my discovery, and
when he had got through with his expressions of wonder, I carried him
to the tents, and led him into the presence of his old acquaintances.
In consequence of this visit, I enjoyed another half hour's _tête à
tête_ with Emily, Marble soon taking the Major to walk with him,
beneath the trees.
We were both recalled to a sense of our real situation, by the
reappearance of Monsieur Le Compte. I cannot say that our conqueror
behaved in the least unhandsomely towards us, notwithstanding his
evident jealousy. He had the tact to conceal most of his feelings, and
owing either to liberality or to art, he assumed an air of generous
confidence, that would be much more likely to touch the feelings of
the maid he sought, than any acts of severity. First asking permission
of Miss Merton, he even invited us, and himself, to dine with the
Major, and, on the whole, we had an agreeable entertainment. We had
turtle and champaigne, and both of a quality that was then out of the
reach of all the aldermen of London or New York; begging pardon of the
Sir Peters and Sir Johns of Guildhall, for putting them, in any sense,
on a level with the "gentleman from the Fourth Ward" or "the gentleman
from the Eleventh Ward;" though, if the truth must be told, the last
very often eat the best dinners, and drink, out of all comparison, the
best wines. Who pays, is a fact buried in the arcana of aldermanic
legerdemain. It was late before we left the table, though Monsieur Le
Compte quitted us early.
At five o'clock precisely we were summoned to witness the
launch. Champaigne and claret had brought Marble into good humour, nor
was I at all out of spirits, myself. Emily put on her hat, and took
her parasol, just as she would have done at home, and accepting my
arm, she walked to the ship-yard, like all the rest of us. Getting her
a good place for the sight, I accompanied Marble to take a look at the
"Pretty Poll," which had not as yet attracted as much of our attention
as she ought. I had suggested to him the probability of an occasion
offering to rise upon the Frenchman, while their attention was taken
up with the schooner; but Monsieur Le Compte warily kept quite half
his men in the ship, and this put the attempt out of the question,
since the guns of the Crisis would have swept any part of the island.
The French mechanics deserved great credit for the skill they had
manifested in the construction of _La Petite Pauline._ She was
not only a safe and commodious craft for her size, but, what was of
great importance to us, her lines promised that she would turn out to
be a fast sailer. I afterwards ascertained that Captain Le Compte had
been her draftsman, possessing not only much taste for, but a good
deal of practice in, the art. The ship in which the Merton's had taken
passage to Bombay, had the copper for a teak-built frigate and sloop
of war in her, and this had been transferred, among; other articles,
to la Pauline, before the prize was burned. Availing himself of this
circumstance, Monsieur Le Compte had actually coppered his schooner,
and otherwise he had made her as neat and commodious as possible. I
make no doubt he intended to surprise his friends at Marseilles, by
showing what clever mariners, wrecked on an island of the Pacific,
could do, on an emergency. Then, doubtless, he found it pleasant to
linger on this island, eating fresh cocoa-nuts, with delicious turtle,
and making love to Emily Merton. Some of the charms of "Pretty Poll"
were fairly to be attributed to the charms of the young lady.
The men began to wedge up, the moment we were all present, and this
portion of the labour was _soon_ completed. Monsieur Le Compte
then took his station in the head of the schooner. Making a profound
bow to Emily, as if to ask her permission, the signal was given; the
spur-shores were knocked away, and the little craft slid off into the
water so easily, making so little ripple as she shot a hundred fathoms
into the bay, as to give the assurance she would prove a fast
vessel. Just as she was water-borne, Le Compte dashed a bottle against
the tiller, and shouted, at the top of his voice, "_succés à la
Belle Emelie._"
I turned to Emily, and saw by the blush that she understood French,
while the manner in which she pouted her pretty plump lip betrayed the
humour in which the compliment had been received.
In a few minutes, Captain Le Compte landed, and, in a set speech, he
gave up the schooner to our possession. We were told not to consider
ourselves as prisoners, our captain handsomely admitting that he had
gained no laurels by his victory.
"We shall go away good friend," he concluded, "mais, suppose we shall
meet, and _nos dux republique_ shall not be at peace, then each
must fight for _son pavillion!_"
This was a good concluding sentiment, for such a scene. Immediately
after the Mertons and their domestics, of whom there were a man and a
woman, embarked, I took leave of them on the beach, and, either my
observation, or my vanity, induced me to think Emily got into the boat
with reluctance. Many good wishes were exchanged, and the Major
called out to us, "we shall meet again, gentlemen--there has been a
Providence in our previous intercourse. Adieu, until _then_."
The French were now in a great bustle. Most of the articles they
intended to carry away were already on board the ship; and, by the
time it was dusk, they had closed their communication with the
land. When Captain Le Compte took his leave of us, I could not but
thank him for his many civilities. He had certainly dealt generously
by us, though I still think his sudden departure, which made us fall
heirs to many things we otherwise might not have so done, was owing to
his wish to remove Emily Merton, as quickly as possible, from my
sight.
At daylight next morning, Neb came to the officers' tents to say, the
ship was getting her anchors. I was up and dressed in a moment. The
distance to the inlet was about a mile, and I reached it, just as the
Crisis was cast. In a few minutes she came sweeping into the narrow
pass, under her topsails, and I saw Emily and her father, leaning over
the hammock-cloths of the quarter-deck. The beautiful girl was so
near, that I could read the expression of her soft eyes, and I fancied
they were filled with gentle concern. The Major called out, "God
bless you, dear Wallingford"--then the ship swept past, and was soon
in the outer bay. Half an hour later, or before I left the spot, she
was at sea, under everything that would draw from her trunks down.