Afloat and Ashore (43 page)

Our meeting partook of the character of our situation, being a mixture
of melancholy and happiness. I rejoiced in our success, while I
regretted Marble, and even our late enemies, while the Major and his
daughter could not but remember all the gloomy particulars of their
late, and, indeed, of their present position.

"We seem to be kept, like Mahomet's coffin, sir," Emily observed, as
she looked affectionately at her father, "suspended between heaven and
earth—the Indies and America—not knowing on which we are to
alight. The Pacific is our air, and we are likely to breathe it, to
our heart's content."

"True, love—your comparison is not an unhappy one. But, Wallingford,
what has become of Captain Marble in these stirring times? You have
not left him, Sancho Panza like, to govern Barritaria, while you have
come to recover his ship?"

I told my passengers of the manner in which our old friend had
disappeared, and inquired if anything had been seen of the whale-boat,
or the schooner, on the night of the tropical tempest.

"Nothing"—answered the Major. "So far from expecting to lay eyes on
the 'Beautiful Emily,' again, we supposed you would be off for Canton
by the end of the fortnight that succeeded our own departure. At
least, that was poor Le Compte's version of the matter. I am certain
however, that no sail was seen from this ship, during the whole
passage; nor, had we any storm like that you have described. More
beautiful weather, I never met at sea."

Upon this, I sent for the log-book, and ascertained, by day and date,
that the Crisis was not within fifty leagues of the spot, where we
encountered the thunder-squall. Of course the ship we saw was a
stranger; most probably a whaler. This destroyed any little hope that
was left concerning Marble's fate.

But it is time I should mention a
galanterie
of poor Le
Compte's. He was well provided with shipwrights—better, indeed, than
with seamen—as was apparent by the readiness with which he had
constructed the schooner. During the passage from Marble Land, he had
set these workmen about building a poop on the Crisis' quarter-deck,
and I found the work completed. There was a very pretty, airy cabin,
with two state-rooms communicating with light quarter-galleries, and
everything that is customary with such accommodations. Furniture had
been made, with French dexterity and taste, and the paint was just dry
to receive it. Emily and her father were to take possession of these
new accommodations the very day succeeding that in which the ship fell
again into our hands. This alteration was not such as I would have
made, as a seaman; and I wonder Mons. Le Compte, who had the gauntlet
to run through the most formidable navy in the world, should have
ventured on it, since it sensibly affected the ship's sailing on a
wind. But, now it was peace, I cared little about it, and determined
to let it remain, so long, at least, as Miss Merton continued on
board.

That very night, therefore, the Major occupied one of the state-rooms,
and his daughter the other. Imitating poor Le Compte's gallantry, I
gave them a separate table, though I took quite half my meals with
them, by invitation. Emily did not absolutely dress my wound, a flesh
injury in the shoulder, that office falling to her father's share, who
had seen a good deal of service, and was familiar with the general
treatment of hurts of this nature; but she could, and did, show many
of those gentle and seductive attentions, that the tenderness of her
sex can alone bestow, with full effect, on man. In a fortnight my hurt
was cured, though Emily had specifics to recommend, and advice to
bestow, until we were both ashamed to allude to the subject any
longer.

As for the passage, it was just such a one as might be expected to
occur, in the trades of the Pacific. The ship was under studding-sails
nearly the whole time, making, day in and day out, from a hundred and
twenty to two hundred miles in the twenty-four hours. The mates kept
the watches, and I had little to do, but to sit and chat with the
Major and his daughter, in the cool, airy cabin, that Le Compte had
provided for us; listen to Emily's piano, which had been transferred
from the prize, and subsequently saved from the wreck; or read aloud
out of some of the two or three hundred beautifully bound, and
sweetly-scented volumes that composed her library. In that day, people
read Pope, and Young, and Milton, and Shakspeare, and that sort of
writers; a little relieved by Mrs. Radcliffe, and Miss Burney, and
Monk Lewis, perhaps. As for Fielding and Smollet, they were well
enough in their place, which was not a young lady's library,
however. There were still more useful books, and I believe I read
everything in the ship, before the voyage ended. The leisure of a
sea-life, in a tranquil, well-ordered vessel, admits of much study;
and books ought to be a leading object in the fitting out that portion
of a vessel's equipment which relates chiefly to the welfare of her
officers and crew.

Time passed pleasantly enough, with a young fellow who had certainly
some reason to be satisfied with his own success thus far in life, and
who could relieve the tedium of ship's duty in such society. I cannot
say I was in love, though I often thought of Emily when she was not
before my eyes, and actually dreamt of her three times, in the first
fortnight after the re-capture of the ship. What was a little
remarkable, as I conceive, I often found myself drawing comparisons
between her and Lucy, though I hardly knew why, myself. The result was
very much after this sort;—Emily had vastly the advantage in all that
related to art, instruction, training—I am wrong, Mr. Harding had
given his daughter a store of precise, useful knowledge, that Emily
did not possess; and then I could not but see that Lucy's tact in
moral feeling, was much of the highest order of the two. But, in
purely conventional attainments, in most that relates to the world,
its usages, its finesse of feeling and manner, I could see that Emily
was the superior. Had I known more myself, I could have seen that both
were provincial—for England, in 1801, was but a province, as to mere
manners, though on a larger scale than America is even now—and that
either would have been remarked for peculiarities, in the more
sophisticated circles of the continent of Europe. I dare say, half my
own countrymen would have preferred Lucy's nature to the more
artificial manner of Emily; but, it will not do to say that even
female deportment, however delicate and feminine nature may have made
it, cannot be improved by certain general rules for the government of
that which is even purely conventional. On the whole, I wished that
Lucy had a little of Emily's art, and Emily a good deal more of Lucy's
nature. I suppose the perfection in this sort of thing is to possess
an art so admirable that it shall appear to be nature, in all things
immaterial, while it leaves the latter strictly in the ascendant, in
all that is material.

In person, I sometimes fancied Emily was the superior, and, sometimes,
when memory carried me back to certain scenes that had occurred during
my last visit to Clawbonny, that it was Lucy. In complexion, and
perhaps in eyes, the English girl beat her rival; possibly, also, in
the teeth; though Lucy's were very even and white; but, in the smile,
in the outline of the face, most especially in the mouth, and in the
hands, feet, and person generally, I think nine judges in ten would
have preferred the American. One peculiar charm was common to both;
and it is a charm, though the strongest instance I ever saw of it in
my life, was in Italy, that may be said to belong, almost exclusively,
to the Anglo-Saxon race: I mean that expression of the countenance
which so eminently betokens feminine purity and feminine tenderness
united; the look which artists love to impart to the faces of
angels. Each of the girls had much of this; and I suppose it was
principally owing to their heavenly blue eyes. I doubt if any woman
with black, or hazel eyes notwithstanding all the brilliancy of their
beauty, ever possessed this charm in the higher degree. It belonged to
Grace even more than to Lucy or Emily; though, of the two last, I
think the English girl possessed it, in a slight degree, the most, so
far as it was connected with mere shading and colour; while the
American exhibited the most of it, in moments of feeling and
emotion. Perhaps, this last advantage was owing to Lucy's submitting
most to nature, and to her impulses. It must be remembered, however,
that I had not seen Lucy, now, for near two years; and two of the most
important years of a young female's life, as respected her personal
appearance.

As relates to character, I will not now speak as plainly as I shall be
called on to do, hereafter. A youth of twenty is not the best judge of
such things, and I shall leave events to tell their own story, in this
particular.

We had been at sea a fortnight, when happening to allude to the pearl
fishery, I bethought me of my own prizes. A ship that carries a
numerous crew, is a sort of
omnium gatherum
, of human
employments. For ordinarily manned craft, seamen are necessary; but
ships of war, privateers and letters-of-marque, can afford, as poor
Marble would express it, to generalize. We had several tradesmen in
the Crisis—mechanics, who found the restraints of a ship necessary
for their own good—and, among others, we happened to have a
goldsmith. This man had offered to perforate my pearls, and to string
them; an operation to which I consented. The fellow had performed his
task as well as could be desired, and supplying from his own stores a
pair of suitable clasps, had formed the whole into a simple, but as
beautiful a necklace, as I ever laid eyes on. He had put the largest
pearl of all directly in the centre, and then arranged the remainder,
by placing several of the smaller together separated by one of the
second size, until the whole formed a row that would much more than
encircle my own neck, and which, of course, would drop gracefully
round that of a female.

When I produced this beautiful ornament, one that a woman of rank
might have coveted, Emily did not endeavour to conceal her
admiration. Unaccustomed, herself, to the higher associations of her
own country, she had never seen a necklace of the same value, and she
even fancied it fit for a queen. Doubtless, queens usually possess
much more precious pearls than those of mine, and yet it was to be
supposed they would not disdain to wear even such as they. Major
Merton examined the necklace carefully, and I could see by his
countenance, he was surprised and pleased.

On the whole, I think it may be questioned, if any other man enjoys as
many
physical
advantages with the same means, as the Americans. I
speak more of his habits, than of his opportunities; but I am of
opinion, after seeing a good deal of various parts of the world, that
the American of moderate fortune has more physical indulgences than
any other man. While this is true, however, as a whole, there are
certain points on which he signally fails. He fails
often
, when it
comes to the mere outward exhibition; and it is probable there is not
a single well-ordered household—meaning for the purposes of comfort
and representation united—in the whole country. The particular
deficiency, if deficiency it be, applies in an almost exclusive degree
to the use of precious stones, jewelry, and those of the more valuable
metals in general. The ignorance of the value of precious stones is so
great, that half the men, meaning those who possess more or less of
fortune, do not even know the names of those of the commoner sorts. I
doubt, if one educated American in twenty could, even at this moment,
tell a sapphire from an amethyst, or a turquoise from a garnet; though
the women are rather more expert as lapidaries. Now, I was a true
American in this respect; and, while I knew I possessed a very
beautiful ornament, I had not the smallest idea of its value, as an
article of commerce. With the Major it was different. He had studied
such things, and he had a taste for them. The reader will judge of my
surprise, therefore, when I heard him say:—

"That necklace, in the hands of Rundle and Bridges, would bring a
thousand pounds, in London!"

"Father!" exclaimed Emily.

"I do think it. It is not so much the size of the pearls, though these
largest are not common even in that particular, but it is their
extreme beauty; their colour and transparency—their
water
, as
it is called."

"I thought that a term applied only to diamonds"—observed Emily, with
an interest I wished she had not manifested.

"It is also applied to pearls—there are pearls of what is called the
'white water,' and they are of the sort most prized in Europe. The
'yellow water' are more esteemed among nations of darker skins; I
suppose that is the secret. Yes, I think if you send this necklace to
London, Wallingford, you will get six or eight hundred pounds for it."

"I shall never sell it, sir—at least, not as long as I can avoid it."

I saw that Emily looked at me, with an earnestness for which I could
not account.

"Not sell it!—" repealed her father—"Why, what in the name of
Neptune can
you
do with such an ornament?"

"Keep it. It is strictly my own. I brought it up, from the bottom of
the sea, with my own hands; removed the pearls from what the editors
would call their 'native homes' myself, and I feel an interest in
them, that I never could feel in any ornament that was purchased."

"Still, this will prove rather an expensive taste. Pray, What interest
do you obtain for money, in your part of the world, Wallingford?"

"Six per cent., in New York, sir, perhaps, on the better sort of
permanent securities."

"And how much is sixty pounds sterling, when turned into dollars?"

"We usually say five for one, though it is not quite that; from two
hundred and eighty to two hundred and ninety, all things
considered—though two hundred and sixty-six, nominally, or
thereabouts."