"And she sits and gazes at me,
With those deep and tender eyes,...
Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies."
LONGFELLOW;
The next morning I set about the measures necessary for carrying out
our plan. Marble was invited to be of the party, the arrangements
concerning the ship, allowing of his absence for a few days; Once
engaged, he was of infinite service, entering into the plan as my
mate. The regular skipper was glad to have a furlough; and I retained
on board no one of the proper crew but the river-pilot; a man who
could not be dispensed with; By this arrangement, we cleared the cabin
from company that was not desirable for the circumstances. Neb, and
three of the Clawbonny blacks, were delighted to go on such an
excursion, and all were more or less familiar with the little duty
that would be required of them. Indeed, Marble, Neb and myself, were
every way able to take care of the vessel. But we chose to have plenty
of physical force; and a cook was indispensable. Clawbonny supplied
the latter, in the person of old Dido of that ilk.
By noon, the whole party were ready to embark. Grace was driven to the
wharf, and she walked on board the sloop, supported by Lucy and
myself; more, however, from solicitude than from absolute
necessity. Every precaution, however, was taken by order of the
physician to prevent anything like excitement; the blacks, in
particular, who would have followed "Miss Grace" to the water's edge,
being ordered to remain at home. Chloe, to her manifest satisfaction,
was permitted to accompany her "young mistress," and great was her
delight. How often that day, did the exclamation of "de feller,"
escape her, as she witnessed Neb's exploits in different parts of the
sloop. It was some little time before I could account for the black's
superfluous activity, imputing it to zeal in my sister's service; but,
in the end, I discovered Grace had to share the glory with Chloe.
No sooner was everybody on board than we cast off. The jib was soon
up; and under this short sail, we moved slowly out of the creek, with
a pleasant southerly breeze. As we passed the point, there stood the
whole household arrayed in a line, from the tottering grey-headed and
muddy-looking negro of seventy, down to the glistening, jet-black
toddling things of two and three. The distance was so small, it was
easy to trace even the expressions of the different countenances,
which varied according to the experience, forebodings, and characters
of the different individuals. Notwithstanding the sort of reverential
attachment all felt for "Miss Grace," and the uncertainty some among
these unsophisticated creatures must have experienced on the subject
of her health, it was not in nature for such a cluster of "niggers" to
exhibit unhappiness, at a moment when there were so many grounds of
excitement. The people of this race know nothing of the _word,_
perhaps; but they delight in the _thing_, quite as much as if
they did nothing but electioneer all their lives. Most pliant
instruments would their untutored feelings make in the hands of your
demagogue; and, possibly, it may have some little influence on the
white American to understand, how strong is his resemblance to the
"nigger," when he gives himself up to the mastery of this much
approved mental power. The day was glorious; a brighter sun never
shining in Italy, or on the Grecian islands; the air balmy; the vessel
was gay to the eye, having been painted about a month before, and
every one seemed bent on a holiday; circumstances sufficient in
themselves, to make this light-hearted race smiling and happy. As the
sloop went slowly past, the whole line doffed their hats, or curtsied,
showing at the same time a row of ivory that shone like so many gay
windows in their sable faces. I could see that Grace was touched by
this manifestation of interest; such a field-day in the Clawbonny
corps not having occurred since the first time my mother went to town,
after the death of my father. Fortunately, everything else was
soothing to my sister's spirits; and, so long as she could sit on the
deck, holding Lucy's hand, and enjoy the changing landscape, with her
brother within call, it was not possible she should be altogether
without happiness.
Rounding the point, as we entered the river, the Wallingford eased-off
sheet, set a studding-sail and flying-top-sail, and began to breast
the Hudson, on her way towards its sources.
In 1803, the celebrated river we were navigating, though it had all
the natural features it possesses to-day, was by no means the same
picture of moving life. The steam-boat did not appear on its surface
until four years later; and the journeys up and down its waters, were
frequently a week in length. In that day, the passenger did not hurry
on board, just as a bell was disturbing the neighbourhood, hustling
his way through a rude throng of porters, cart-men, orange-women, and
news-boys, to save his distance by just a minute and a half, but his
luggage was often sent to the vessel the day before; he passed his
morning in saying adieu, and when he repaired to the vessel, it was
with gentleman-like leisure, often to pass hours on board previously
to sailing, and not unfrequently to hear the unwelcome tidings that
this event was deferred until the next day. How different, too, was
the passage, from one in a steam-boat! There was no jostling of each
other, no scrambling for places at table, no bolting of food, no
impertinence manifested, no swearing about missing the eastern or
southern boats, or Schenectady, or Saratoga, or Boston trains, on
account of a screw being loose, nor--any other unseemly manifestation
that anybody was in a hurry. On the contrary, wine and fruit were
provided, as if the travellers intended to enjoy themselves; and a
journey in that day was a _festa_. No more embarked than could be
accommodated; and the company being selected, the cabin was taken to
the exclusion of all unwelcome intruders. Now, the man who should
order a bottle of wine to be placed at the side of his plate, would be
stared at as a fool; and not without reason altogether, for, did it
escape the claws of his _convives_ and the waiters, he would
probably reach the end of his journey before he could drink it. In
1803, not only did the dinner pass in peace, and with gentleman-like
deliberation; not only were the cooler and the fruit taken on deck,
and the one sipped and the other eaten at leisure, in the course of an
afternoon, but in the course of many afternoons. Passages were
certainly made in twenty-four hours in the sloops; but these were the
exceptions, a week being much more likely to be the time passed in the
enjoyment of the beautiful scenery of the river. The vessel usually
got aground, once at least, and frequently several times in a trip;
and often a day, or two, were thus delightfully lost, giving the
stranger an opportunity of visiting the surrounding country. The
necessity of anchoring, with a foul wind, on every opposing tide, too,
increased these occasions, thus lending to the excursion something of
the character of an exploring expedition. No--no--a man would learn
more in one passage, up or down the Hudson, forty years since, than
can be obtained by a dozen at the present time. I have a true seaman's
dislike for a steam-boat, and sometimes wish they were struck out of
existence; though I know it is contrary to all the principles of
political economy, and opposed to what is called the march of
improvement. Of one thing, however, I feel quite certain; that these
inventions, coupled with the gregarious manner of living that has
sprung up in the large taverns, is, as one of our writers expresses
it, "doing _wonders_ for the manners of the people;" though, in
my view of the matter, the wonder is, that they have any left.
There might have been thirty sail in sight, when the Wallingford got
fairly into the river, some turning down on a young ebb, making their
fifteen or twenty miles in six hours, and others like ourselves,
stealing along against it, at about the same rate. Half a dozen of
these craft were quite near us, and the decks of most of those which
were steering north, had parties including ladies, evidently
proceeding to the "Springs." I desired Marble to sheer as close to
these different vessels as was convenient, having no other object in
view than amusement, and fancying it might aid in diverting the
thoughts of my sister from her own sorrows, to the faces and concerns
of others. The reader will have no difficulty in understanding, that
the Wallingford, constructed under the orders of an old sailor, and
for his own uses, was a fast vessel. In this particular she had but
one or two competitors on the river; packets belonging to Hudson,
Poughkeepsie and Sing-Sing. She was now only in fair ballast-trim, and
being admirably provided with sails, in the light wind we had, she
actually went four feet to most-of-the-other-vessels-in-sight's
three. My request to Marble--or, order, as he chose to call it--was
easily enough complied with, and we were soon coming up close on the
quarter of a sloop that had its decks crowded with passengers who
evidently belonged to the better class; while, on its forecastle were
several horses, and a carriage; customary accompaniments to such a
scene in that day.
I had not been so happy in a long time, as I felt at that
moment. Grace was better, as I fancied at least, and it was certain
she was more composed and less nervous than I had seen her since my
return; and this of itself was removing the weight of a mountain from
my heart. There was Lucy, too, her rounded cheek rosy with the
pleasure of the moment, full of health, and with eyes that never
turned on me that they did not beam with confidence and kindness--the
sincerest friendship, if not love--while every look, movement,
syllable or gesture that was directed towards Grace, betrayed how
strongly the hearts of these two precious creatures were still knit
together in sisterly affection. My guardian too seemed happier than he
had been since our conversation on the state of my own feelings
towards his daughter. He had made a condition, that we should all--the
doctor excepted--return to Clawbonny in time for service on the
ensuing Sunday, and he was then actually engaged in looking over an
old sermon for the occasion, though not a minute passed in which he
did not drop the manuscript to gaze about him, in deep enjoyment of
the landscape. The scene, moreover, was so full of repose, that even
the movements of the different vessels scarce changed its Sabbath-like
character. I repeat, that I had not felt so perfectly happy since I
held my last conversation with the Salem Witches, in The Duomo of
Firenze.
Marble was excessively delighted with the behaviour of the
Wallingford. The latter was a sloop somewhat smaller than common,
though her accommodations were particularly commodious, while she was
sparred on the scale of a flyer. Her greatest advantage in the way of
sailing, however, would have been no great recommendation to her on a
wind; for she was nearly start light, and might not have been able to
carry full sail in hard November weather, even on the Hudson--a river
on which serious accidents have been known to occur. There was little
danger in mid-summer, however; and we went gliding up on the quarter
of the Gull of Troy, without feeling concern of any sort.
"What sloop is that?" demanded the skipper of the Gull, as our
boom-end came within a fathom of his rail, our name being out of his
view.
"The Wallingford of Clawbonny, just out of port, bound up on a party
of pleasure."
Now, Clawbonny was not then, nor is it now, what might be called a
legal term. There was no such place known in law, beyond the right
which usage gives; and I heard a low laugh among the passengers of the
Gull, as they heard the homely appellation. This came from the
equivocal position my family occupied, midway between the gentry and
yeomanry of the State, as they both existed in 1803. Had I said the
sloop came from near Coldenham, it would have been all right; for
everybody who was then anybody in New York, knew who the Coldens were;
or Morrisania, the Morrises being people of mark; or twenty other
places on the river: but the Wallingfords were as little known as
Clawbonny, when you got fifteen or twenty miles from the spot where
they had so long lived. This is just the difference between obscurity
and notoriety. When the latter extends to an entire nation, it gives
an individual, or a family, the note that frees them entirely from the
imputation of existing under the first condition; and this note,
favourably diffused through Christendom, forms a reputation--transmitted
to posterity, it becomes fame. Unfortunately, neither we nor our place
had even reached the first simple step in this scale of renown; and
poor Clawbonny was laughed at, on account of something Dutch that was
probably supposed to exist in the sound--the Anglo-Saxon race having a
singular aptitude to turn up their nose's at everything but their own
possessions, and everybody but themselves. I looked at Lucy, with
sensitive quickness, to see how she received this sneer on my
birth-place; but, with her, it was so much a matter of course to think
well of everything connected with the spot, its name as well as its
more essential things, that I do not believe she perceived this little
sign of derision.
While the passengers of the Gull felt this disposition to smile, it
was very different with her skipper; his Dutch pilot, whose name was
Abrahamus Van Valtenberg, but who was more familiarly known as 'Brom
Folleck, for so the children of New Netherlands twisted their
cognomens in converting them into English;[*] the black cook, the
mulatto steward, and the "all hands," who were one man and a
boy. There had been generations of sloops which bore the name of
Watlingford, as Well as generations of men, at Clawbonny; and this
every river-man knew. In point of fact, we counted four generations of
men, and six of sloops. Now, none of these vessels was worthy of being
mentioned, but this which my father had caused to be built; but she
had a reputation that extended to everybody on the river. The effect
of all this was to induce the skipper of the Gull to raise his hat,
and to say--
"That, then, I suppose is Mr. Wallingford himself--you are welcome
back on the river; I remember the time well, when your respected
father would make that boat do anything but talk. Nothing but the new
paint, which is different from the last, prevented me from knowing the
sloop. Had I taken a look at her bows, this couldn't have happened."
[Footnote *: A story is told of a Scotchman of the name of
Farquharson,--who settled among the High Dutch on the Mohawk, sometime
previously to the Revolution; where, unable to pronounce his name, the
worthy formers called him Feuerstein (pronounced Firestyne). The son
lived and died under this appellation; but the grandson, removing to a
part of the country where English alone was spoken, chose to anglisise
his name; and, by giving it a free translation, became Mr. Flint!]
This speech evidently gave me and my vessel an estimation with the
passengers of the Gull that neither had enjoyed the moment
before. There was some private conversation on the quarter-deck of the
other vessel, and, then, a highly respectable and gentleman-like
looking old man, came to the rail, bowed, and commenced a discourse.
"I have the pleasure of seeing Captain Wallingford, I believe," he
remarked, "with whom my friends, the Mertons, came passengers from
China. They have often expressed their sense of your civilities," he
continued, as I bowed in acquiescence, "and declare they should ever
wish to sail with you, were they again compelled to go to sea."
Now, this was viewing my relation to the Mertons in any point of view
but that in which I wished it to be viewed, or indeed was just. Still
it was natural; and the gentleman who spoke, a man of standing and
character, no doubt fancied he was, saying that which must prove
particularly acceptable to me; another proof how dangerous it is to
attempt to decide on other men's feelings or affairs. I could not
decline the discourse; and, while the Wallingford went slowly past the
Gull, I was compelled to endure the torment of hearing the Mertons
mentioned, again and again, in the hearing of Lucy and Grace; on the
nerves of the latter of whom I knew it must be a severe trial. At
length we got rid of this troublesome neighbour, though not until Lucy
and her father were recognised and spoken to by several of the ladies
in the other party. While my late guardian and his daughter were thus
engaged, I stole a glance at my sister. She was pale as death, and
seemed anxious to go below, whither I led her, most happily, I have
every reason to think, as things turned out.
When the Wallingford had left the Gull some little distance astern, I
returned to the deck, and Lucy went to take my place by the side of
Grace's berth. She reappeared, however; in a very few minutes, saying
that my sister felt an inclination to rest herself, and might fall
asleep. Feeble, almost, as an infant, these frequent slumbers had
become necessary, in a measure, to the patient's powers. Chloe coming
up soon after with a report that her young mistress seemed to be in a
doze, we all remained on deck, in order not to disturb her. In this
manner, half an hour passed, and we had drawn quite near to another
sloop that was going in the same direction with ourselves. At this
moment, Mr. Hardinge was deeply immersed in his sermon, and I
perceived that Lucy looked at him, from time to time, as if she
expected to catch his eye. I fancied something distressed her, and yet
it was not easy to imagine exactly what it could be.
"Do you not intend to go nearer the other sloop?" Lucy at length
inquired, alluding to the vessel that was almost in a line with us;
but to which I had ordered Neb to give a respectable berth.
"I thought the gossip of the last quite sufficient; but, if you like
these interviews, certainly."
Lucy seemed embarrassed; she coloured to her temples, paused a moment,
and then added, affecting to laugh--and it was so seldom Lucy affected
anything, but this time she _did_ affect to laugh--as she said--
"I _do_ wish to go near that sloop; though it is not exactly for
the reason you suppose."
I could see she was distressed, though it was not yet easy to imagine
the cause. Lucy's requests were laws to me, and Neb was ordered to
sheer down on the quarter of this second sloop, as we had done on that
of the first. As we drew near, her stern told us that she was called
the "Orpheus of Sing-Sing," a combination of names that proved some
wag had been connected with the christening. Her decks had also a
party of both sexes on them, though neither carriage nor horses. All
this time, Lucy stood quite near me, as if reluctant to move, and when
we were sufficiently near the sloop, she pressed still nearer to my
side, in the way in which her sex are apt to appeal to those of the
other who possess their confidence, when most feeling the necessity of
support.
"Now, Miles," she said, in an under tone, "_you_ must 'speak that
sloop,' as you call it; I can never hold a loud conversation of this
sort, in the presence of so many strangers."
"Very willingly, Lucy; though you will have the goodness to let me
know exactly what I am to say."
"Certainly--begin then, in your sailor fashion, and when that is done,
I will tell you what to add."
"Enough--Orpheus, there?" I called out, just raising my voice
sufficiently to be heard.
"Ay, ay,--what's wanted?" answered the skipper, taking a pipe from his
mouth, as he leaned with his back against his own tiller, in a way
that was just in accordance with the sleepy character of the scene.
I looked at Lucy, as much as to say, "what next?"
"Ask him if Mrs. Drewett is on board his sloop--_Mrs._ Andrew
Drewett, not _Mr._--The old lady, I mean," added the dear girl,
blushing to the eyes.
I was so confounded--I might almost add appalled, that it was with
great difficulty I suppressed an exclamation. Command myself, I did,
however, and observing that the skipper was curiously awaiting my next
question, I put it.
"Is _Mrs_. Andrew Drewett among your passengers, sir?" I
inquired with a cold distinctness.
My neighbour nodded his head, and spoke to some of his passengers,
most of whom were on the main-deck, seated on chairs, and concealed
from us, as yet, by the Wallingford's main-sail, her boom being guyed
out on the side next the Orpheus, with its end just clear of her
quarter.
"She is, and wishes to know who makes the inquiry?" returned the
Sing-Sing skipper, in the singsong manner in which ordinary folk
repeat what is dictated.
"Say that Miss Hardinge has a message to Mrs. Drewett from
Mrs. Ogilvie, who is on board that other sloop," added Lucy, in a low,
and, as I thought, tremulous tone.
I was nearly choked; but made out to communicate the fact, as
directed. In an instant I heard the foot of one who leaped on the
Orpheus's quarter-deck, and then Andrew Drewett appeared, hat in hand,
a face all smiles, eyes that told his tale as plain as any tongue
could have uttered it, and such salutations as denoted the most
perfect intimacy. Lucy took my arm involuntarily, and I could feel
that she trembled. The two vessels were now so near, and everything
around us was so tranquil, that by Lucy's advancing to the
Wallingford's quarter-deck, and Drewett's coming to the taffrail of
the Orpheus, it was easy to converse without any unseemly raising of
the voice. All that had been said between me and the skipper, indeed,
had been said on a key but little higher than common. By the change in
Lucy's position, I could no longer see her face; but I knew it was
suffused, and that she was far from being as composed and collected as
was usual with her demeanour. All this was death to my recent
happiness, though I could not abstain from watching what now passed,
with the vigilance of jealousy.
"Good-morning," Lucy commenced, and the words were uttered in a tone
that I thought bespoke great familiarity, if not confidence; "will you
have the goodness to tell your mother that Mrs. Ogilvie begs she will
not leave Albany until after her arrival. The other sloop,
Mrs. Ogilvie thinks, cannot be more than an hour or two after you, and
she is very desirous of making a common party to--ah! there comes
Mrs. Drewett," said Lucy, hastily interrupting herself, "and I can
deliver my message, myself."
Mrs. Drewett coming aft at this instant, Lucy certainly did turn to
her, and communicated a message, which it seems the lady in the Gull
had earnestly requested her to deliver in passing.
"And now," returned Mrs. Drewett, when Lucy had ceased, first civilly
saluting me, "and now, my dear Lucy, we have something for you. So
sudden was your departure, on the receipt of that naughty letter," my
letter, summoning the dear girl to the bed-side of her friend, was
meant, "that you left your work-box behind you, and, as I knew it
contained many notes besides bank-notes, I would not allow it to be
separated from me, until we met. Here it is; in what manner shall we
contrive to get it into your hands?"
Lucy started, and I could see that she both felt and looked
anxious. As I afterwards learned, she had been passing a day at
Mrs. Drewett's villa, which joined her own, both standing on the rocks
quite near to that spot which a mawkish set among us is trying to
twist from plain homely, up-and-down, old fashioned Hell Gate, into
the exquisite and lackadaisical corruption of _Hurl_ Gate--Heaven
save the mark! What puny piece of folly and affectation will they
attempt next?--but Lucy was paying this visit when she received my
letter, and it appears such was her haste to get to Grace, that she
quitted the house immediately, leaving behind her a small work-box,
_unlocked_, and in it various papers that she did not wish
read. Of course, one of Lucy's sentiments and tone, could hardly
suspect a lady, and Mrs. Drewett was strictly that, of rummaging her
box or of reading her notes and letters; but one is never easy when
such things can be supposed to be in the way of impertinent
eyes. There are maids as well as mistresses, and I could see, in a
moment, that she wished the box was again in her own possession. Under
the circumstances, therefore, I felt it was time to interfere.
"If your sloop will round-to, Mr. Drewett," I remarked, receiving a
cold salutation from the gentleman, in return for my own bow, the
first sign of recognition that had passed between us, "I will
round-to, myself, and send a boat for the box."
This proposal drew all eyes towards the skipper, who was still leaning
against his tiller, smoking for life or death. I was not favourably
received, extorting a grunt in reply, that any one could understand
denoted dissent. The pipe was slowly removed, and the private opinion
of this personage was pretty openly expressed, in his Dutchified
dialect.
"If a body coult get a wint for der askin', dis might do very well,"
he said; "but nobody rounts-to mit a fair wind."
I have always remarked that they who have used a dialect different
from the common forms of speech in their youth, and come afterwards to
correct it, by intercourse with the world, usually fall back into
their early infirmities in moments of trial, perplexity, or
anger. This is easily explained. Habit has become a sort of nature, in
their childhood, and it is when most tried that we are the most
natural. Then, this skipper, an Albany--or Al_bon_ny man, as he
would probably have styled himself, had got down the river as far as
Sing-Sing, and had acquired a tolerable English; but, being now
disturbed, he fell back upon his original mode of speaking, the
certain proof that he would never give in. I saw at once the
hopelessness of attempting to persuade one of his school, and had
begun to devise some other scheme for getting the box on board, when
to my surprise, and not a little to my concern, I saw Andrew Drewett,
first taking the box from his mother, step upon the end of our
main-boom, and move along the spar with the evident intention to walk
as far as our deck and deliver Lucy her property with his own
hands. The whole thing occurred so suddenly, that there was no time
for remonstrance. Young gentlemen who are thoroughly in love, are not
often discreet in matters connected with their devotion to their
mistresses. I presume Drewett saw the boom placed so favourably as to
tempt him, and he fancied it would be a thing to mention to carry a
lady her work-box across a bridge that was of so precarious a
footing. Had the spar lain on the ground, it would certainly have been
no exploit at all to for any young man to walk its length, carrying
his arms full of work-boxes; but it was a very different matter when
the same feat had to be performed on a sloop's boom in its place,
suspended over the water, with the sail set, and the vessel in
motion. This Drewett soon discovered, for, advancing a step or two, he
grasped the topping-lift, which luckily for him happened to be taut,
for a support. All this occurred before there was time for
remonstrance, or even for thought. At the same instant Neb, in
obedience to a sign previously given by me, had put the helm down a
little, and the boom-end was already twenty feet from the quarter-deck
of the Orpheus.
Of course, all the women screamed, or exclaimed, on some key or
other. Poor Mrs. Drewett hid her face, and began to moan her son as
lost. I did not dare look at Lucy, who remained quiet as to voice,
after the first involuntary exclamation, and as immovable as a
statue. Luckily her face was from me. As Drewett was evidently
discomposed, I thought it best, however, to devise something not only
for his relief, but for that of Lucy's box, which was in quite as much
jeopardy as the young man, himself; more so, indeed, if the latter
could swim. I was on the point of calling out to Drewett to hold on,
and I would cause the boom-end to reach over the Orpheus's main-deck,
after which he might easily drop down among his friends, when Neb,
finding some one to take the helm, suddenly stood at my side.
"He drop dat box, sartain, Masser Mile," half-whispered the negro; "he
leg begin to shake already, and he won'erful skear'd!"
"I would not have that happen for a good deal--can you save it, Neb?"
"Sartain, sir. Only hab to run out on 'e boom and bring it in, and gib
it Miss Lucy; she mighty partic'lar about dat werry box, Masser Mile,
as I see a hundrer time, and more too."
"Well, lay out, boy, and bring it in,--and look to your footing, Neb."
This was all Neb wanted. The fellow had feet shaped a good deal like
any other aquatic bird, with the essential difference, however, that
no small part of his foundation had been laid abaft the perpendicular
of the tendon Achilles, and, being without shoes, he could nearly
encircle a small spar in his grasp. Often and often had I seen Neb run
out on a top-sail-yard, the ship pitching heavily, catching at the
lift; and it was a mere trifle after that, to run out on a spar as
large as the Wallingford's main-boom. A tolerably distinctive scream
from Chloe, first apprised me that the negro was in motion. Looking in
that direction, I saw him walking steadily along the boom,
notwithstanding Drewett's loud remonstrances, and declarations that he
wanted no assistance, until he reached the spot where the young
gentleman stood grasping the lift, with his legs submitting to more
tremour than was convenient. Neb now grinned, looked as amiable as
possible, held out his hand, and revealed the object of his visit.
"Masser Mile t'ink 'e gentleum better gib _me_ Miss Lucy
box"--said Neb, as politely as he knew how.
I believe in my soul that Drewett could have kissed Neb, so glad was
he to obtain this little relief. The box was yielded without the
slightest objection, Neb receiving it with a bow; after which the
negro turned round as coolly as if he were on the deck, and walked
deliberately and steadily in to the mast. He stopped an instant just
at the small of the spar, to look back at Drewett, who was saying
something to pacify his mother; and I observed that, as he stood with
his heels in a line, the toes nearly met underneath the boom, which
his feet grasped something in the manner of talons. A deep sigh
reached my ear, as Neb bounded lightly on deck, and I knew whence it
came by the exclamation of--
"De _fel_-ler!"
As for Neb, he advanced with his prize, which he offered to Lucy with
one of his best bows, but in a way to show he was not conscious of
having performed any unusual exploit. Lucy handed the box to Chloe,
without averting her eyes from Drewett, in whose situation she
manifested a good deal more concern than I liked, or fancied he
deserved.
"Thank you, Mr. Drewett," she said, affecting to think the box had
been recovered altogether by his address; "it is now safe, and there
is no longer any necessity for your coming here. Let Mr. Wallingford
do what he says"--I had mentioned in a low voice, the practicability
of my own scheme--"and return to your own sloop."
But, two things now interposed to the execution of this very simple
expedient. The first was Drewett's pride, blended with a little
obstinacy, and the other was the "Al_bon_ny" skipper's pride, blended
with a good deal of obstinacy. The first did not like to retreat,
after Neb had so clearly demonstrated it was no great matter to walk
on the boom; and the latter, soured by the manner in which we had
outsailed him, and fancying Andrew had deserted to get on board a
faster vessel, resented the whole by sheering away from us to the
distance of a hundred yards. I saw that there remained but a single
expedient, and set about adopting it without further delay.
"Take good hold of the lift, Mr. Drewett, and steady yourself with
both hands; ease away the peak halyards to tauten that lift a little
more, forward. Now, one of you stand by to ease off the guy
handsomely, and the rest come aft to the main-sheet. Look out for
yourself, Mr. Drewett; we are about to haul in the boom, when it will
be a small matter to get you in, upon the taffrail. Stand by to luff
handsomely, so as to keep the boom as steady as possible."
But Drewett clamorously protested against our doing anything of the
sort. He was getting used to his situation, and intended to come in
Neb-fashion, in a minute more. All he asked was not to be hurried.
"No--no--no--touch nothing I entreat of you, _Captain_
Wallingford"--he said, earnestly. "If that black can do it, surely I
ought to do it, too."
"But the black has claws, and you have none, sir; then he is a sailor,
and used to such things, and you are none, sir. Moreover, he was
barefooted, while you have got on stiff, and I dare say slippery
boots."
"Yes, the boots _are_ an encumbrance. If I could only throw them
off, I should do well enough. As it is, however, I hope to have the
honour of shaking you by the hand, Miss Hardinge, without the disgrace
of being helped."
Mr. Hardinge here expostulated, but all in vain; for I saw plainly
enough Drewett was highly excited, and that he was preparing for a
start. These signs were now so apparent that all of us united our
voices in remonstrances; and Lucy said imploringly to me--"_Do_
not let him move, Miles--I have heard him say he cannot swim."
It was too late. Pride, mortified vanity, obstinacy, love, or what you
will, rendered the young man deaf, and away he went, abandoning the
lift, his sole protection. I saw, the moment he quitted his grasp,
that he would never reach the mast, and made my arrangements
accordingly. I called to Marble to stand by to luff; and, just as the
words passed my lips, a souse into the water told the whole story. The
first glance at poor Drewett's frantic manner of struggling told me
that Lucy was really aware of his habits, and that he could not
swim. I was in light duck, jacket and trowsers, with seaman's pumps;
and placing a foot on the rail, I alighted alongside of the drowning
young man, just as he went under. Well assured he would reappear, I
waited for that, and presently I got a view of his hair, within reach
of my arm, and I grasped it, in a way to turn him on his back, and
bring his face uppermost. At this moment the sloop was gliding away
from us, Marble having instantly put the helm hard down, in order to
round-to. As I afterwards learned, the state of the case was no sooner
understood in the other sloop, than the Al_bon_-ny men gave in,
and imitated the Wallingford.
There was no time for reflection. As soon as Drewett's hair was in my
grasp, I raised his head from the water, by an effort that forced me
under it, to let him catch his breath; and then relaxed the power by
which it had been done, to come up myself. I had done this to give him
a moment to recover his recollection, in the hope he would act
reasonably; and I now desired him to lay his two hands on my
shoulders, permit his body to sink as low as possible and breathe, and
trust the rest to me. If the person in danger can be made to do this,
an ordinarily good swimmer could tow him a mile, without any unusual
effort. But the breathing spell afforded to Drewett had the effect
just to give him strength to struggle madly for existence, without
aiding his reason. On the land, he would have been nothing in my
hands; but, in the water, the merest boy may become formidable. God
forgive me, if I do him injustice! but I have sometimes thought,
since, that Drewett was perfectly conscious who I was, and that he
gave some vent to his jealous distrust of Lucy's feelings towards
me. This may be all imagination; but I certainly heard the words
"Lucy" "Wallingford," "Clawbonny," "hateful," muttered by the man,
even as he struggled there for life. The advantage given him, by
turning to allow him to put his hands on my shoulders, liked to have
cost me dear. Instead of doing as I directed, he grasped my neck with
both arms, and seemed to wish to mount on my head, forcing his own
shoulders quite out of water, and mine, by that much weight, beneath
it. It was while we were thus placed, his mouth within an inch or two
of my very ear, that I heard the words muttered which have been
mentioned. It is possible, however, that he was unconscious of that
which terror and despair extorted from him.
I saw no time was to be lost, and my efforts became desperate. I
first endeavoured to swim with this great encumbrance; but it was
useless. The strength of Hercules could not long have buoyed up the
under body of such a load, sufficiently to raise the nostrils for
breath; and the convulsive twitches of Drewett's arms were near
strangling me. I must throw him off, or drown. Abandoning the attempt
to swim, I seized his hands with mine, and endeavoured to loosen his
grasp of my neck. Of course we both sank while I was thus engaged; for
it was impossible to keep my head above water, by means of my feet
alone, with a man of some size riding, from his shoulders up, above
the level of my chin.
I can scarcely describe what followed. I confess I thought ho longer
of saving Drewett's life, but only of saving my own. We struggled
there in the water like the fiercest enemies, each aiming for the
mastery, as, if one were to live, the other must die. We sank, and
rose to the surface for air, solely by my efforts, no less than three
times; Drewett getting the largest benefits by the latter, thus
renewing his strength; while mine, great as it was by nature, began
gradually to fail. A struggle so terrific could not last long. We
sank a fourth time, and I felt it was not to rise again, when relief
came from an unexpected quarter. From boyhood, my father had taught me
the important lesson of keeping my eyes open under water. By means of
this practice, I not only _felt_, but _saw_ the nature of
the tremendous struggle that was going on. It also gave me a slight
advantage over Drewett, who closed his eyes, by enabling me to see how
to direct my own exertions. While sinking, as I believed, for the last
time, I saw a large object approaching me in the water, which, in the
confusion of the moment, I took for a shark, though sharks never
ascended the Hudson so high, and were even rare at New York. There it
was, however, swimming towards us, and even descending lower as if to
pass beneath, in readiness for the fatal snap. Beneath it did pass,
and I felt it pressing upward, raising Drewett and myself to the
surface. As I got a glimpse of the light, and a delicious draught of
air, Drewett was drawn from my neck by Marble, whose encouraging voice
sounded like music in my ears. At the next instant my shark emerged,
puffing like a porpoise; and then I heard--
"Hole on, Masser Mile--here he nigger close by!"
I was dragged into the boat, I scarce knew how, and lay down
completely exhausted; while my late companion seemed to me to be a
lifeless corpse. In a moment, Neb, dripping like a black river god,
and glistening like a wet bottle, placed himself in the bottom of the
boat, took my head into his lap, and began to squeeze the water from
my hair, and to dry my face with some one's handkerchief--I trust it
was not his own.
"Pull away, lads, for the sloop," said Marble, as soon as everybody
was out of the river. "This gentleman seems to have put on the hatches
for the last time--as for Miles, _he_'ll never drown in fresh
water."