The man in the bows of the vessel bade them come along side, and then the conversation ceased. Wilder had now an opportunity to discover, that, as the hail had been intended for another boat, which was still at a distance, he had answered prematurely. But, perceiving that it was too late to retreat with safety, or perhaps only acting in conformity to his original determination, he directed his companions to obey.
“‘Cutting the waves with the taffrail,’ is not the civillest answer a man can give to a hail,” muttered Fid, as he dropped the blade of his oar into the water; “nor is it a matter to be logged in a man’s memory, that they have taken offence at the same. Howsomever, master Harry, if they are so minded as to make a quarrel about the thing, give them as good as they send, and count on manly backers.”
No reply was made to this encouraging assurance for, by this time, the skiff was within a few feet of the ship. Wilder ascended the side of the vessel amid a deep, and, as he felt it to be, an ominous silence. The night was dark, though enough light fell from the stars, that were here and there visible, to render objects sufficiently distinct to the practised eyes of a seaman. When our young adventurer touched the deck, he cast a hurried and scrutinizing look about him, as if doubts and impressions, which had long been harboured, were all to be resolved by that first view.
An ignorant landsman would have been struck with the order and symmetry with which the tall spars rose towards the heavens, from the black mass of the hull, and with the rigging that hung in the air, one dark line crossing another, until all design seemed confounded in the confusion and intricacy of the studied maze. But to Wilder these familiar objects furnished no immediate attraction. His first rapid glance had, like that of all seamen, it is true, been thrown upward, but it was instantly succeeded by the brief, though keen, examination to which we have just alluded. With the exception of one who, though his form was muffled in a large sea-cloak, seemed to be an officer, not a living creature was to be seen on the decks. On either side there was a dark, frowning battery, arranged in the beautiful and imposing order of marine architecture; but nowhere could he find a trace of the crowd of human beings which usually throng the deck of an armed ship, or that was necessary to render the engines effective. It might be that her people were in their hammocks, as usual at that hour, but still it was customary to leave a sufficient number on the watch, to look to the safety of the vessel. Finding himself so unexpectedly confronted with a single individual, our adventurer began to be sensible of the awkwardness of his situation, and of the necessity of some explanation.
“You are no doubt surprised, sir,” he said, “at the lateness of the hour that I have chosen for my visit.”
“You were certainly expected earlier,” was the laconic answer.
“Expected!”
“Ay, expected. Have I not seen you, and your two companions who are in the boat, reconnoitring us half the day, from the wharfs of the town, and even from the old tower on the hill? What did all this curiosity foretel, but an intention to come on board?”
“This is odd, I will acknowledge!” exclaimed Wilder, in some secret alarm. “And, then, you had notice of my intentions?”
“Hark ye, friend,” interrupted the other, indulging in a short, low laugh; “from your outfit and appearance I think I am right in calling you a seaman: Do you imagine that glasses were forgotten in the inventory of this ship? or, do you fancy that we don’t know how to use them?”
“You must have strong reasons for looking so deeply into the movements of strangers on the land.”
“Hum! Perhaps we expect our cargo from the country. But I suppose you have not come so far in the dark to look at our manifest. You would see the Captain?”
“Do I not see him?”
“Where?” demanded the other, with a start that manifested he stood in a salutary awe of his superior.
“In yourself.”
“I! I have not got so high in the books, though my time may come yet, some fair day. Hark ye, friend; you passed under the stern of yonder ship, which has been hauling into the stream, in coming out to us?”
“Certainly; she lies, as you see, directly in my course.”
“A wholesome-looking craft that! and one well found, I warrant you. She is quite ready to be off they tell me.”
“It would so seem: her sails are bent, and she floats like a ship that is full.”
“Of what?” abruptly demanded the other.
“Of articles mentioned in her manifest, no doubt. But you seem light yourself: if you are to load at this port, it will be some days before you put to sea.”
“Hum! I don’t think we shall be long after our neighbour,” the other remarked, a little drily. Then, as if he might have said too much, he added hastily, “We slavers carry little else, you know, than our shackles and a few extra tierces of rice; the rest of our ballast is made up of these guns, and the stuff to put into them.”
“And is it usual for ships in the trade to carry so heavy an armament?”
“Perhaps it is, perhaps not. To own the truth, there is not much law on the coast, and the strong arm often does as much as the right. Our owners, therefore, I believe, think it quite as well there should be no lack of guns and ammunition on board.”
“They should also give you people to work them.”
“They have forgotten that part of their wisdom, certainly.”
His words were nearly drowned by the same gruff voice that had brought-to the skiff of Wilder, which sent another hoarse summons across the water, rolling out sounds that were intended to say,—
“Boat, ahoy!”
The answer was quick, short, and nautical; but it was rendered in a low and cautious tone. The individual, with whom Wilder had been holding such equivocating parlance, seemed embarrassed by the sudden interruption, and a little at a loss to know how to conduct himself. He had already made a motion towards leading his visiter to the cabin, when the sounds of oars were heard clattering in a boat along side of the ship, announcing that he was too late. Bidding the other remain where he was, he sprang to the gangway, in order to receive those who had just arrived.
By this sudden desertion, Wilder found himself in entire possession of that part of the vessel where he stood. It gave him a better opportunity to renew his examination, and to cast a scrutinizing eye also over the new comers.
Some five or six athletic-looking seamen ascended from the boat, in profound silence. A short and whispered conference took place between them and their officer, who appeared both to receive a report, and to communicate an order. When these preliminary matters were ended, a line was lowered, from a whip on the main-yard, the end evidently dropping into the newly-arrived boat. In a moment, the burthen it was intended to transfer to the ship was seen swinging in the air, midway between the water and the spar. It then slowly descended, inclining inboard until it was safely, and somewhat carefully, landed on the decks of the vessel.
During the whole of this process, which in itself had nothing extraordinary or out of the daily practice of large vessels in port, Wilder had strained his eyes, until they appeared nearly ready to start from their sockets. The black mass, which had been lifted from the boat, seemed, while it lay against the background of sky, to possess the proportions of the human form. The seamen gathered about this object After much bustle, and a good deal of low conversation, the burthen or body, whichever it might be called, was raised by the men, and the whole disappeared together, behind the masts, boats, and guns which crowded the forward part of the vessel.
The whole event was of a character to attract the attention of Wilder. His eye was not, however, so intently riveted on the groupe in the gangway, as to prevent his detecting a dozen black objects, that were suddenly thrust forward, from behind the spars and other dark masses of the vessel. They might be blocks swinging in the air, but they bore also a wonderful resemblance