Afloat and Ashore (76 page)

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;
[7]
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."

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.