“Come, brother,” he said, in friendly, confidential tones, and shaking his head, like one who wished to show to his companion that he was aware of the deception he had attempted to practise; “come, brother, you have stood far enough on this tack, and it is time to try another. Ay, I’ve been young myself in my time, and I know what a hard matter it is to give the devil a wide birth, when there is fun to be found in sailing in his company: But old age brings us to our reckonings; and, when the life is getting on short allowance with a poor fellow, he begins to think of being sparing of his tricks, just as water is saved in a ship, when the calms set in, after it has been spilt about decks like rain, for weeks and months on end. Thought comes with gray hairs, and no one is the worse for providing a little of it among his other small stores.”
“I had hoped, when I gave you the bottom of the hill, and took the top myself,” returned Wilder, without even deigning to look at his disagreeable companion, “that we had parted company for ever. As you seem, however, to prefer the high ground, I leave you to enjoy it at your leisure; I shall descend into the town.”
The old man shuffled after him, with a gait that rendered it difficult for Wilder, who was by this time in a fast walk, to outstrip him, without resorting to the undignified expedient of an actual flight. Vexed alike with himself and his tormentor, he was tempted to offer some violence to the latter; and then, recalled to his reccollection by the dangerous impulse he moderated his pace, and continued his route with a calm determination to be superior to any emotions that such a pitiful object could excite.
“You were going under such a press of sail, young Master,” said the stubborn old mariner, who still kept a pace or two in his rear, “that I had to set every thing to hold way with you; but you now seem to be getting reasonable, and we may as well lighten the passage by a little profitable talk. You had nearly made the oldish lady believe the good ship ‘Royal Caroline’ was the flying Dutchman!”
“And why did you see fit to undeceive her?” bluntly demanded Wilder.
“Would you have a man, who has followed blue water fifty years, scandalize wood and iron after so wild a manner? The character of a ship is as dear to an old sea-dog, as the character of his wife or his sweetheart.”
“Hark ye, friend; you live, I suppose, like other people, by eating and drinking?”
“A little of the first, and a good deal of the last,” returned the other, with a chuckle.
“And you get both, like most seaman, by hard work, great risk, and the severest exposure?”
“Hum! ‘Making our money like horses, and spending it like asses!’—that is said to be the way with us all.”
“Now, then, have you an opportunity of making some with less labour; you may spend it to suit your own fancy. Will you engage in my service for a few hours, with this for your bounty, and as much more for wages, provided you deal honestly?”
The old man stretched out a hand, and took the guinea which Wilder had showed over his shoulder, without appearing to deem it at all necessary to face his recruit.
“It’s no sham!” said the latter, stopping to ring the metal on a stone.
“‘Tis gold, as pure as ever came from the Mint.”
The other very coolly pocketed the coin; and then, with a certain hardened and decided way, as if he were now ready for any thing, he demanded,—
“What hen-roost am I to rob for this?”
“You are to do no such pitiful act; you have only to perform a little of that which, I fancy, you are no stranger to: Can you keep a false log?”
“Ay; and swear to it, on occasion. I understand you. You are tired of twisting the truth like a new laid rope, and you wish to turn the job over to me.”
“Something so. You must unsay all you have said concerning yonder ship; and, as you have had running enough to get on the weather-side of Mrs de Lacey, you must improve your advantage, by making matters a little worse than I have represented them to be. Tell me, that I may judge of your qualifications, did you in truth, ever sail with the worthy Rear-Admiral?”
“As I am an honest and religious Christian, I never heard of the honest old man before yesterday. Oh! you may trust me in these matters! I am no likely to spoil a history for want of facts.”
“I think you will do. Now listen to my plan.”—
“Stop, worthy messmate,” interrupted the other: “‘Stones can hear,’ they say on shore: we sailors know that the pumps have ears on board a ship; have you ever seen such a place as the ‘Foul Anchor’ tavern, in this town?”
“I have been there.”
“I hope you like it well enough to go again. Here we will part. You shall haul on the wind, being the lightest sailer, and make a stretch or two among these houses, until you are well to windward of yonder church. You will then have plain sailing down upon hearty Joe Joram’s, where is to be found as snug an anchorage, for an honest trader, as at any inn in the Colonies. I will keep away down this hill, and, considering the difference in our rate of sailing, we shall not be long after one another in port.”
“And what is to be gained by so much manoeuvring? Can you listen to nothing which is not steeped in rum?”
“You offend me by the word. You shall see what it is to send a sober messenger on your errands, when the time comes. But, suppose we are seen speaking to each other on the highway—why, as you are in such low repute just now, I shall lose my character with the ladies altogether.”
“There may be reason in that. Hasten, then to meet me; for, as they spoke of embarking soon, there is not a minute to lose.”
“No fear of their breaking ground so suddenly,” returned the old man, holding the palm of his hand above his head to catch the wind. “There is not yet air enough to cool the burning cheeks of that young beauty; and, depend on it, the signal will not be given to them until the sea breeze is fairly come in.”
Wilder waved his hand, and stepped lightly along the road the other had indicated to him, ruminating on the figure which the fresh and youthful charms of Gertrude had extorted from one even as old and as coarse as his new ally. His companion followed his person for a moment, with an amused look, and an ironical cast of the eye; and then he also quickened his pace, in order to reach the place of rendezvous in sufficient season.
Chapter X
“Forewarn him, that he use no scurrilous words.”
—Winter’s Tale
As Wilder approached the “Foul Anchor,” he beheld every symptom of some powerful excitement existing within the bosom of the hitherto peaceful town. More than half the women, and perhaps one fourth of all the men, within a reasonable proximity to that well known inn, were assembled before its door, listening to one of the former sex, who declaimed in tones so shrill and penetrating as not to leave the proprietors of the curious and attentive countenances, in the outer circle of the crowd, the smallest rational ground of complaint on the score of impartiality. Our adventurer hesitated, with the sudden consciousness of one but newly embarked in such enterprises as that in which he had so recently enlisted, when he first saw these signs of commotion; nor did he determine to proceed until he caught a glimpse of his aged confederate, elbowing his way through the mass of bodies, with a perseverance and energy that promised to bring him right speedily into the very presence of her who uttered such loud and piercing plaints. Encouraged by this example, the young man advanced, but was content to take his position, for a moment, in a situation that left him entire command of his limbs and, consequently, in a condition