_ CHAPTER XXIII. WHICH TREATS OF A PARTY OF YACHTERS MET ON THE SOUND, AND WHAT PAINS THEY TOOK TO COMFORT THE MAJOR, ON BEING MADE ACQUAINTED WITH HIS VARIOUS EXPLOITS
THE major had been unusually serious during the day, and toward evening approached me with his right hand extended. "I cannot too forcibly express to you the deep obligation I owe you for the many kindnesses you have shown me. Thankful am I to escape the clutches of that doctor, though, perhaps, it would have been well to have enlisted his generosity, and got him to apply his plasters to my horse, for his legs stand much in need of them. As to the misfortune that befel me, pray think no more of it; for though I confess to being found naked to my shirt, a bishop could not be more innocent of wrong intention, even though he were an Onderdonk, who had been persecuted for his virtues. And now, let us change this matter, for I have been considering the profoundness of my purpose all day; and as our reception in New York will be an affair of much magnitude, I want to consult you on the most proper measures to be adopted in the present state of affairs. My reputation being already established, it will no doubt be agreeable to you that I receive and acknowledge the honors, you paying that deference to me which an adjutant general pays to his superior. We must master fortune by the quickest process; and as it matters nothing to the politicians of New York which of us they honor, so long as the ovation affords them excitement, your ends will be best served by keeping me well backed up. And as there is no knowing what sort of a turn the grand reception may take, I have been much concerned lest those who get it up discover in me (as they have done in worse men) an excellent candidate for President, in which case I must give great care to the wording of my speech, for that must be made to square with coming events." Holding it, as I always have, and shall still continue to do, more generous to forgive the vagaries of men who are given to imagining themselves great, as they, rightly viewed, can do no harm, and, indeed, afford much of that amusement so necessary to good digestion, I replied, that I had always considered his claims to public favor as superior to my own. And this so pleased him, that he declared it the first time, notwithstanding his great experience in life, that he had found a politician willing to sacrifice himself for the benefit of another, which he swore to remember until the day of his death. We now sat down together, and continued consulting upon various matters appertaining to our journey, and in which the major took great delight, especially as I acquiesced in all his opinions.
Night had now overtaken us, and the "Two Marys" was proceeding slowly on her course, close in shore. It was impossible the mind could conceive a finer night, for not a cloud was visible in the heavens, which formed over us a gorgeous arch of azure blue, hung with what poets call liquid pearls, now casting shadows like frolicking fairies over the broad sea plane below; and then, after flitting and coquetting, passed away into the mysterious distance. In truth, so seductive was the scene, that it excited in my breast a few of those fancies of heaven that give so much employment to the brains of young lovers. Yonder, tall light houses ranged along the shore, like stately giants in their night robes, filling the horizon to the right with a halo of pale light. Then a noise as of the rilling of distant brooks came floating in sweet cadences through the air, which seemed laden with the perfumes of new made hay; and the hollow echo of the watch dog's bark mingled in the soul inspiring chorus. And as I turned thinking of Hervey and his Meditations, my eye caught the ripe moon rising to invest all with that reposing softness poets and painters have so long in vain attempted to describe.
A streak of bright light trailed along the heavens in the west, and beneath it were steamboats so gigantic in proportions that they resembled illuminated palaces vaulting over the sea; while close off our starboard bow, there appeared advancing toward us a fairy like fleet, with low, rakish hulls, taut rig, and sails made whiter by the moonbeams playing upon them. The whole fleet seemed to skim over the sea, though the "Two Marys" scarce moved. One, more tiny than the rest, and which appeared to have made an offing, bore down for us, and seemed intent upon crossing our bows. The major, whose attention had been directed to them for some minutes, and who seemed always to have a pirate haunting his mind, rose quickly to his feet, swearing that he could not this time be mistaken in the character of the craft advancing upon us, since pirates always stole upon the objects of their plunder, and were, as he had read in various novels, just the sort of craft there seen. So disturbed was he in his feelings, that he demanded of Captain Luke Snider that he make a signal of warning-first notifying the fellow to keep off, and then through the trumpet telling him of what a thrashing he would get if he dared to come on board a vessel with so terrible a major for passenger. Had not old Battle been lying down, and the time required to get him up been fatal to such a great undertaking, he would have had him saddled and got ready for the contest, which he felt in his heart would be bloody enough to furnish material for three popular novels. Twice he started for the cabin, vowing to get his sword and be ready; twice he halted, and with much concern inquired of the captain, what he thought of the saucy looking craft. But the captain shook his head, looked aloft, and shrugged his shoulders, which increased the major's fears, and afforded Luke no little diversion, though he maintained his silence with becoming gravity. He had no fear of the fellow, "but a good soldier ought always to be ready for an emergency," the major said. "Faith, and I can swear it by St. Dennis, (who was as good a saint as any of them, for what I know,) he means us no harm, and may bring us good news. I have sailed the Sound these thirty years without meeting a craft that would harm me in hull or rigging. A wharf thief now and then carries off my ropes; but then he belongs to a tribe of scurvy vagabonds who never venture out of New York harbor, for there they have the law on their side, which is well enough for them."
The major's thoughts were now for several minutes, hung between his fears and this comforting reply. But not being quite satisfied, he turned to me, as I leaned over the rail contemplating the beauty of the scene before me, and inquired what I thought of pirates and their pranks. If the approaching craft was not a pirate, he said, her movements at least bespoke her bent on no good. The little craft was now seen to sheer, which caused the major's perturbation to become irresistible; and suddenly putting his hands to his lips, he shouted at the top of his voice: "Ho, strange ship! Whence come you? and what want you, that you steer right in our way? Bear away, there, or may the devil take me but you'll get the worst of it, for this is the Two Marys, of Barnstable." All on board were much amused at this freak, and stood silent, as if waiting for a reply. In a few moments the music of a harp was heard, and such was the skill and delicacy with which it was played, that the very air seemed filled with mysterious spirits, who, having carried off the lutes of some companion lovers, were chanting dulcet requiems. And the soft, sweet notes floated over the sea in seductive cadences. Then two female voices sang sweetly to the accompaniment of the harp; and so exquisite was the effect that I fancied rejoicing angels whispering their songs to the winds that played so gently around us. One of the voices was a soprano of much sweetness and flexibility, for it ascended the scale with great ease, and its higher notes were flutelike. The other was a contralto of no mean order. And there joined in chorus with these, two male voices, evidently well trained, and of much compass.
The singing threw an air of mystery over the little craft, which served to make the major more impatient to know her character. Had the place of meeting been in the Caribbean Sea, he said, why, there could be no mistaking her character, for the pirates who infested it, as he had read in one of Sims's novels, made their captive females sing to them at night, whereas on the Sound, there was no record of what pirates and oystermen really did with their female captives, unless it was that they banished them to Blackwell's Island. But he was still more surprised and confounded when he heard the words of the song the party in the little craft were singing, and which ran thus:
"Beneath the stars, so pure and bright,
Come let us be merry on the sea to-night!
On the sea to-night! on the sea to-night!
"Let lovers to groves where moonbeams enchant;
But we have hearts that are free,
And we'll woo on the sea to-night!
On the sea to-night! on the sea to-night!"
This song, so curious in sentiment and rhyme, was also written by the very learned Dr. Easley, who, in consideration of its being a prize song, had it copyrighted. I have, therefore been extremely scrupulous only to purloin this small portion of it, (knowing, as I do, the high value he places upon all his literary productions,) lest he hold me amenable to the laws of the country, made and provided for the protection of poor authors.
The little craft had now approached so near, that her low, black hull, with the figures upon deck, was distinctly seen. It was evident that she espied us, for the singing suddenly ceased as she hauled her wind, which at that moment increased a little, and came dashing down upon us in fine style. And as those on board were heard keeping up a conversation in French, the major's fears again returned, and after an ineffectual attempt to get old Battle upon his legs, he ran aft in a state of alarm, and thus addressed Captain Snider, who had taken the helm of the "Two Marys":
"I verily believe, sir, these are no friends, for they speak in an unknown tongue, which is that used by pirates when devising infernal plots!"
The Captain, after casting a careless glance upward, as if to count the mast hoops upon his great mainsail, replied, "That as he was not gifted in tongues, and knew but little of his own, he could not be a judge; but this he would say, that they were only a party of yachters, who instead of intending us harm, would pay us the compliment of coming on board to regale us with their 'good cheer,' of which they usually had an abundant stock."
The major's fears now entirely deserted him, and his thoughts were directed to how he could best appear before such distinguished pleasure seekers. It has before been described how the major was not a little vain of his military position; and lest the humble character of the craft on which he voyaged might not be regarded in its proper light by the strangers, he thought of mounting his uniform, in which they would not fail to recognize him as a person of distinction. While, however, he paused in a state of uncertainty, the little craft came within a fathom of us, and a voice cried out, "What sloop is that? and from whence came you?"
"The Two Marys, of Barnstable! six days out. You will be welcome on board, and such fare as we have shall be at your service!" replied the captain, in the manliness of his nature, as he at the same time ordered one of his sons to get "fasts" ready. The yacht (which was none other than the "Saucy Kate," of the Harlem Yacht Club) now dropped her fenders, and rounded to, like a thing of life, under the stern of the "Two Marys," while Captain Luke put his helm down, and luffed into the wind. Another minute and she was fast alongside, when there came rollicking on board two ladies accompanied by two gentlemen, whose demeanor, though they were dressed in garbs peculiar to the occasion, at once bespoke them persons of ease circumstance. One of the men was peculiarly tall and and erect of person, had a long, brown mustache, and hair that is called Saxon, which he had evidently taken some pains to keep well ordered. As to his face, though there was nothing particularly striking in it, (if a resemblance to the great General Webb be excepted,) I very much doubt if Brady could have selected a better subject to fill a vacant niche among those handsome men whose photographs adorn the entrance to his gallery on Broadway. The other was a frisky little man, with a promising red beard and mustache, and a dull blue eye, and a little freckled face, and a puggish nose. His dress was trowsers of white canvas, and a Norseman's jacket, with rows of large horn buttons down the sides, and a corpulent cigar pouch in the breast pocket.
"Upon my life, now, but you can't have much comfort aboard here," spoke the frisky little man, in a voice of singular effeminacy, as he tipped the narrow brimmed glazed hat that had covered his narrower head. "As for ourselves," he continued, fingering the great blood stone studs in his brown cambric shirt bosom, "we are navigating merely for the love of the thing. Want to get the thing right, and don't care a straw for the expense, not we!" This he concluded by saying, in a manner so finical that one might have mistaken him for a Bond Street milliner in the garb of a sailor, that his name was Nat Bradshaw, a recently elected member of the Union Club. The little, finicking man addressed no one in particular, but seemed much concerned lest we should not fully comprehend his respectability, though in truth he might have passed easily enough for a fool. The man of the tall figure, and whose frank and manly manner was enough to banish the sorrow excited by the effeminacy of the other, pressed forward with his hand extended, and inquired for the captain.
"It's me, Luke Snider, who's skipper," spoke the honest-hearted old salt, as the other grasped him by the hand, and gave him such a warm greeting as made him think he had met an old friend. And while these civilities were being interchanged, one of the damsels, a blonde so beautiful that earth had not, as I thought, another to compare with her, tripped gayly about the deck, singing as unconcernedly as a lark at sunrise:
"But give me the sea,
And from the old folks free,
And we'll wait for the tide to-night!
For the tide to-night-for the tide to-night."
"He whose thoughts are not given to evil needs no censuring eyes," thought I, as she turned, and tripping lightly towards me, flung her left arm round the waist of her companion who was a girl of slender form and features, and had a countenance in which pensiveness was deeply written; then, with her right hand resting gently upon her shoulder, she looked roguishly up in her face, for her eyes were of crystal blue, and beamed with mischief, and said, in a voice of much solicitude, "Rose, dear Rose! let me snatch away your troubles, for Nat Bradshaw, you know, always was a fool. It's a habit he's got of kissing everybody who will let him. And what's worse, you can't get it out of his head, little as it is, but that he is a great beauty-that everybody admires his white hand, and the big diamond I know he has'nt paid Tiffany for yet. And because we girls, just to tease him, and have a bit of fun, invite him to polk with us, he's got to fancying it's all in admiration of his graceful bearing. Oh! he is such a fool; and I don't believe he's got any money! I don't! Just snap your fingers at Master Nat, and tell him not to try it again! that's the way I do with such jokers." She spoke with so much simplicity, and in so sweet a voice, that the girl of the slender figure seemed at once to regain her spirits, while the major, who had given particular attention to this little episode, now stood in admiration at the beauty of the speaker's face. Then he approached me, and placing his lips close to my ear, whispered, "Pray say to them who I am, and leave me to take care of the rest." These words being overheard by the gay hearted belle, she turned on her heel coquettishly, and vaulting to where he of the tall figure stood, making certain inquiries of the captain concerning his voyage, locked her hands in his arm, and there leaned gracefully for a few moments.
Flora, for such was this damsel's name, had her home in Madison Square, New York; and there was about her something so artless and yet so tantalizing, that her power over the affections was irresistible. In fine, she was one of those dashing, merry hearted creatures, who make chaos of the affections to-day, and have a balm to heal them to-morrow. _