“I like not treason. In this particular, I confess myself like the boor who loses his resolution in the dark. While the enemy is in view, I hope you will find me true as other men; but sleeping over a mine is not an amusement to my taste.”
“So much for want of practice! Hazard is hazard come in what shape it may; and the human mind can as readily be taught to be indifferent to secret machinations as to open risk. Hush! Struck the bell six, or seven?”
“Seven. You see the men slumber, as before. Instinct would wake them, were their hour at hand.”
“‘Tis well. I feared the time had passed. Yes, Wilder, I love suspense; it keeps the faculties from dying, and throws a man upon the better principles of his nature. Perhaps I owe it to a wayward spirit, but, to me, there is enjoyment in an adverse wind.’”
“And, in a calm?”
“Calms may have their charms for your quiet spirits; but in them there is nothing to be overcome. One cannot stir the elements, though one may counteract their workings.”
“You have not entered on this trade of yours “—
“Yours!”
“I might, now, have said ‘of ours,’ since I too have become a Rover.”
“You are still in your noviciate,” resumed the other, whose quick mind had already passed the point at which the conversation had arrived; “and high enjoyment had I in being the one who shrived you in your wishes. You manifested a skill in playing round your subject, without touching it, which gives me hopes of an apt scholar.”
“But no penitent, I trust.”
“That as it may be; we are all liable to our moments of weakness, when we look on life as book men paint it, and think of being probationers where we are put to enjoy. Yes, I angled for you as the fisherman plays with the trout. Nor did I overlook the danger of deception. You were faithful on the whole; though I protest against your ever again acting so much against my interests as to intrigue to keep the game from coming to my net.”
“When, and how, have I done this? You have yourself admitted”——
“That the ‘Royal Caroline’ was prettily handled, and wrecked by the will of Heaven. I speak of nobler quarries, now, than such as any hawk may fly at. Are you a woman-hater, that you would fain have frightened the noble-minded woman, and the sweet girl, who are beneath our feet at this minute, from enjoying the high privilege of your company?”
“Was it treacherous, to wish to save a woman from a fate like that, for instance, which hung over them both this very day? For, while your authority exists in this ship, I do not think there can be danger, even to her who is so lovely.”
“By heavens, Wilder, you do me no more than justice. Before harm should come to that fair innocent with this hand would I put the match into the magazine, and send her, all spotless as she is, to the place from which she seems to have fallen.”
Our adventurer listened greedily to these words, though he little liked the strong language of admiration with which the Rover was pleased to clothe his generous sentiment.
“How knew you of my wish to serve them?” he demanded, after a pause, which neither seemed in any hurry to break.
“Could I mistake your language? I thought it enough when spoken.”
“Spoken!” exclaimed Wilder, in surprise. “Perhaps part of my confession was then made when I least believed it.”
The Rover did not answer; but his companion saw, by the meaning smile which played about his lip, that he had been the dupe of an audacious and completely successful masquerade. Startled, perhaps at discovering how intricate were the toils into which he had rushed, and possibly vexed at being so thoroughly over-reached, he made several turns across the deck before he again spoke.
“I confess myself deceived,” he at length said, “and henceforth I shall submit to you as a master from whom one may learn, but who can never be surpassed. The landlord of the ‘Foul Anchor,’ at least, acted in his proper person, whoever might have been the aged seaman?”
“Honest Joe Joram! An useful man to a distressed mariner, you must allow. How liked you the Newport pilot?”
“Was he an agent too?”
“For the job merely. I trust such knaves no further than their own eyes can see. But, hist! Heard you nothing?”
“I thought a rope had fallen in the water.”
“Ay, it is so. Now you shall find how thoroughly I overlook these turbulent gentlemen.”
The Rover then cut short the dialogue, which was growing deeply interesting to his companion, and moved, with a light step, to the stern, over which he hung, for a few moments, by himself, like a man who found a pleasure in gazing at the dark surface of the sea. But a slight noise, like that produced by agitated ropes, caught the ear of his companion, who instantly placed himself at the side of his Commander, where he did not wait long without gaining another proof of the manner in which he, as well as all the rest of the crew, were circumvented by the devices of their leader.
A man was guardedly, and, from his situation, with some difficulty, moving round the quarter of the ship by the aid of the ropes and mouldings, which afforded him sufficient means to effect his object. He, however, soon reached a stern ladder, where he stood suspended, and evidently endeavouring to discern which of the two forms, that were overlooking his proceedings, was that of the individual he sought.
“Are you there, Davis?” said the Rover, in a voice but little above a whisper, first laying his hand lightly on Wilder, as though he would tell him to attend. “I fear you have been seen or heard.”
“No fear of that, your Honour. I got out at the port by the cabin bulkhead; and the after-guard are all as sound asleep as if they had the watch below.”
“It is well. What news bring you from the people?”
“Lord! your Honour may tell them to go to church, and the stoutest sea-dog of them all wouldn’t dare to say he had forgotten his prayers.”
“You think them in a better temper than they were?”
“I know it, sir: Not but what the will to work mischief is to be found in two or three of the men, but they dare not trust each other. Your Honour has such winning ways with you, that one never knows when he is on safe grounds in setting up to be master.”
“Ay, this is ever the way with your disorganizers,” muttered the Rover, just loud enough to be heard by Wilder. “A little more honesty, than they possess, is just wanted, in order that each may enjoy the faith of his neighbour. And how did the fellows receive the lenity? Did I well? or must the morning bring its punishment?”
“It is better as it stands, sir. The people know whose memory is good, and they talk already of the danger of adding another reckoning to this they feel certain you have not forgotten. There is the captain of the forecastle, who is a little bitter, as usual, and the more so just now, on account of the knock-down he got from the list of the black.”
“Ay, he is ever troublesome; a settling day must come at last with the rogue.”
“It will be a small matter to expend him in boat-service sir; and the ship’s company will be all the better for his absence.”
“Well, well; no more of him,” interrupted the Rover, a little impatiently, as if he liked not that his companion should look too deeply into the policy of his government, so early in his initiation. “I will see to him. If I mistake not, fellow, you over-acted your own part to-day, and were a little too forward in leading on the trouble.”
“I hope your Honour will remember that the crew had been piped to mischief; besides, there could be no great harm in washing the powder