The Two Admirals (23 page)

"'Tis a glorious night!" exclaimed Bluewater, as he handed Mildred, the
last, from the carriage; "and one can hardly wish to enter a cot, let it
swing ever so lazily."

"Sleep is out of the question," returned Mildred, sorrowfully. "These
are nights in which even the weary are reluctant to lose their
consciousness; but who can sleep while there is this uncertainty about
dear Sir Wycherly."

"I rejoice to hear you say this, Mildred,"—for so the admiral had
unconsciously, and unrepelled, begun to call his sweet companion—"I
rejoice to hear you say this, for I am an inveterate star-gazer and
moon-ite; and I shall hope to persuade you and Mrs. Dutton to waste yet
another hour, with me, in walking on this height. Ah! yonder is Sam
Yoke, my coxswain, waiting to report the barge; I can send Sir
Gervaise's message to the surgeons, by deputy, and there will be no
occasion for my hastening from this lovely spot, and pleasant company."

The orders were soon given to the coxswain. A dozen boats, it would
seem, were in waiting for officers ashore, notwithstanding the lateness
of the hour; and directions were sent for two of them to pull off, and
obtain the medical men. The coach was sent round to receive the latter,
and then all was tranquil, again, on the height. Mrs. Dutton entered the
house, to attend to some of her domestic concerns, while the
rear-admiral took the arm of Mildred, and they walked, together, to the
verge of the cliffs.

A fairer moonlight picture seldom offered itself to a seaman's eye, than
that which now lay before the sight of Admiral Bluewater and Mildred.
Beneath them rode the fleet; sixteen sail of different rigs, eleven of
which, however, were two-decked ships of the largest size then known in
naval warfare; and all of which were in that perfect order, that an
active and intelligent commander knows how to procure, even from the
dilatory and indifferent. If Admiral Bluewater was conspicuous in
manoeuvring a fleet, and in rendering every vessel of a line that
extended a league, efficient, and that too, in her right place, Sir
Gervaise Oakes had the reputation of being one of the best seamen, in
the ordinary sense of the word, in England. No vessel under his command,
ever had a lubberly look; and no ship that had any sailing in her,
failed to have it brought out of her. The vice-admiral was familiar with
that all-important fact—one that members equally of Congress and of
Parliament are so apt to forgot, or rather not to know at all—that the
efficiency of a whole fleet, as a fleet, is necessarily brought down to
the level of its worst ships. Of little avail is it, that four or five
vessels of a squadron sail fast, and work well, if the eight or ten that
remain, behave badly, and are dull. A separation of the vessels is the
inevitable consequence, when the properties of all are thoroughly tried;
and the division of a force, is the first step towards its defeat; as
its proper concentration, is a leading condition of victory. As the
poorer vessels cannot imitate the better, the good are compelled to
regulate their movements by the bad; which is at once essentially
bringing down the best ships of a fleet to the level of its worst; the
proposition with which we commenced.

Sir Gervaise Oakes was so great a favourite, that all he asked was
usually conceded to him. One of his conditions was, that his vessels
should sail equally well; "If you give me fast ships," he said, "I can
overtake the enemy; if dull, the enemy can overtake me; and I leave you
to say which course will be most likely to bring on an action. At any
rate, give me
consorts
; not one flyer, and one drag; but vessels that
can keep within hail of each other, without anchoring." The admiralty
professed every desire to oblige the gallant commander; and, as he was
resolved never to quit the Plantagenet until she was worn out, it was
indispensably necessary to find as many fast vessels as possible, to
keep her company. The result was literally a fleet of "horses," as
Galleygo used to call it; and it was generally said in the service, that
"Oakes had a squadron of flyers, if not a flying-squadron."

Vessels like these just mentioned, are usually symmetrical and graceful
to the eye, as well as fast. This fact was apparent to Mildred,
accustomed as she was to the sight of ships and she ventured to express
as much, after she and her companion had stood quite a minute on the
cliff, gazing at the grand spectacle beneath them.

"Your vessels look even handsomer than common, Admiral Bluewater," she
said, "though a ship, to me, is always an attractive sight."

"This is because they
are
handsomer than common, my pretty critic.
Vice-Admiral Oakes is an officer who will no more tolerate an ugly ship
in his fleet, than a peer of the realm will marry any woman but one who
is handsome; unless indeed she happen to be surpassingly rich."

"I have heard that men are accustomed to lose their hearts under such an
influence," said Mildred, laughing; "but I did not know before, that
they were ever frank enough to avow it!"

"The knowledge has been imparted by a prudent mother, I suppose,"
returned the rear-admiral, in a musing manner; "I wish I stood
sufficiently in the parental relation to you, my young friend, to
venture to give a little advice, also. Never, before, did I feel so
strong a wish to warn a human being of a great danger that I fear is
impending over her, could I presume to take the liberty."

"It is not a liberty, but a duty, to warn any one of a danger that is
known to ourselves, and not to the person who incurs the risk. At least
so it appears to the eyes of a very young girl."

"Yes, if the danger was of falling from these cliffs, or of setting fire
to a house, or of any other visible calamity. The case is different,
when young ladies, and setting fire to the heart, are concerned."

"Certainly, I can perceive the distinction," answered Mildred, after a
short pause; "and can understand that the same person who would not
scruple to give the alarm against any physical danger, would hesitate
even at hinting at one of a moral character. Nevertheless, if Admiral
Bluewater think a simple girl, like me, of sufficient importance to take
the trouble to interest himself in her welfare, I should hope he would
not shrink from pointing out this danger. It is a terrible word to sleep
on; and I confess, besides a little uneasiness, to a good deal of
curiosity to know more."

"This is said, Mildred, because you are unaccustomed to the shocks which
the tongue of rude man may give your sensitive feelings."

"Unaccustomed!" said Mildred, trembling so that the weakness was
apparent to her companion. "Unaccustomed! Alas! Admiral Bluewater, can
this be so, after what you have seen and heard!"

"Pardon me, dear child: nothing was farther from my thoughts, than to
wish to revive those unpleasant recollections. If I thought I should be
forgiven, I might venture, yet, to reveal my secret; for never
before—though I cannot tell the reason of so sudden and so
extraordinary an interest in one who is almost a stranger—"

"No—no—not a stranger, dear sir. After all that has passed to-day;
after you have been admitted, though it were by accident, to one most
sacred secret;—after all that was said in the carriage, and the
terrible scenes my beloved mother went through in your presence so many
years since, you can never be a stranger to
us
, whatever may be your
own desire to fancy yourself one."

"Girl, you do not fascinate—you do not charm me, but you
bind
me to
you in a way I did not think it in the power of any human being to
subjugate my feelings!"

This was said with so much energy, that Mildred dropped the arm she
held, and actually recoiled a step, if not in alarm, at least in
surprise. But, on looking up into the face of her companion, and
perceiving large tears actually glistening on his cheek, and seeing the
hair that exposure and mental cares had whitened more than time, all her
confidence returned, and she resumed the place she had abandoned, of her
own accord, and as naturally as a daughter would have clung to the side
of a father.

"I am sure, sir, my gratitude for this interest ought to be quite equal
to the honour it does me," Mildred said, earnestly. "And, now, Admiral
Bluewater, do not hesitate to speak to me with the frankness that a
parent might use. I will listen with the respect and deference of a
daughter."

"Then do listen to what I have to say, and make no answer, if you find
yourself wounded at the freedom I am taking. It would seem that there is
but one subject on which a man, old fellow or young fellow, can speak to
a lovely young girl, when he gets her alone, under the light of a fine
moon;—and that is love. Nay, start not again, my dear, for, if I am
about to speak on so awkward a subject, it is not in my own behalf I
hardly know whether you will think it in behalf of any one; as what I
have to say, is not an appeal to your affections, but a warning against
bestowing them."

"A warning, Admiral Bluewater! Do you really think that can be
necessary?"

"Nay, my child, that is best known to yourself. Of one thing I am
certain; the young man I have in my eye, affects to admire you, whether
he does or not; and when young women are led to believe they are loved,
it is a strong appeal to all their generous feelings to answer the
passion, if not with equal warmth, at least with something very like
it."

"Affects to admire, sir!—And why should any one be at the pains of
affecting
feelings towards me, that they do not actually entertain? I
have neither rank, nor money, to bribe any one to be guilty of an
hypocrisy so mean, and which, in my ease, would be so motiveless."

"Yes, if it
were
motiveless to win the most beautiful creature in
England! But, no matter. We will not stop to analyze motives, when
facts
are what we aim at. I should think there must be some passion in
this youth's suit, and that will only make it so much the more dangerous
to its object. At all events, I feel a deep conviction that he is
altogether unworthy of you. This is a bold expression of opinion on an
acquaintance of a day; but there are such reasons for it, that a man of
my time of life, if unprejudiced, can scarcely be deceived."

"All this is very singular, sir, and I had almost used your own word of
'alarming,'" replied Mildred, slightly agitated by curiosity, but more
amused. "I shall be as frank as yourself, and say that you judge the
gentleman harshly. Mr. Rotherham may not have all the qualities that a
clergyman ought to possess, but he is far from being a bad man. Good or
bad, however, it is not probable that he will carry his transient
partiality any farther than he has gone already."

"Mr. Rotherham!—I have neither thought nor spoken of the pious vicar at
all!"

Mildred was now sadly confused. Mr. Rotherham had made his proposals for
her, only the day before, and he had been mildly, but firmly refused.
The recent occurrence was naturally uppermost in her mind; and the
conjecture that her rejected suitor, under the influence of wine, might
have communicated the state of his wishes, or what he fancied to be the
state of his wishes, to her companion, was so very easy, that she had
fallen into the error, almost without reflection.

"I beg pardon, sir—I really imagined," the confused girl answered;
"but, it was a natural mistake for me to suppose you meant Mr.
Rotherham, as he is the only person who has ever spoken to my mother on
the subject of any thing like a preference for me."

"I should have less fear of those who spoke to your mother, Mildred,
than of those who spoke only to
you
. As I hate ambiguity, however, I
will say, at once, that my allusion was to Mr. Wychecombe."

"Mr. Wychecombe, Admiral Bluewater!"—and the veteran felt the arm that
leaned on him tremble violently, a sad confirmation of even more than he
apprehended, or he would not have been so abrupt. "Surely—surely—the
warning you mean, cannot,
ought
not to apply to a gentleman of Mr.
Wychecombe's standing and character!"

"Such is the world, Miss Dutton, and we old seamen, in particular, get
to know it, whether willingly or not. My sudden interest in you, the
recollection of former, but painful scenes, and the events of the day,
have made me watchful, and, you will add, bold—but I am resolved to
speak, even at the risk of disobliging you for ever—and, in speaking, I
must say that I never met with a young man who has made so unfavourable
an impression on me, as this same Mr. Wychecombe."

Mildred, unconsciously to herself, withdrew her arm, and she felt
astonished at her own levity, in so suddenly becoming sufficiently
intimate with a stranger to permit him thus to disparage a confirmed
friend.

"I am sorry, sir, that you entertain so indifferent an opinion of one
who is, I believe, a general favourite, in this part of the country,"
she answered, with a coldness that rendered her manner marked.

"I perceive I shall share the fate of all unwelcome counsellors, but can
only blame my own presumption. Mildred, we live in momentous times, and
God knows what is to happen to myself, in the next few months; but, so
strong is the inexplicable interest that I feel in your welfare, that I
shall venture still to offend. I like not this Mr. Wychecombe, who is so
devout an admirer of yours—real or affected—and, as to the liking of
dependants for the heir of a considerable estate, it is so much a matter
of course, that I count it nothing."

"The heir of a considerable estate!" repeated Mildred, in a voice to
which the natural sweetness returned, quietly resuming the arm, she had
so unceremoniously dropped—"Surely, dear sir, you are not speaking of
Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, Sir Wycherly's nephew."

"Of whom else should I speak?—Has he not been your shadow the whole
day?—so marked in his attentions, as scarce to deem it necessary to
conceal his suit?"