The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea. Джеймс Фенимор КуперЧитать онлайн книгу.
know more of you and your jokes, if I take you into my own mess, and am giggled out of my sleep for the rest of the cruise.”
As the commander of the schooner concluded, he approached the stranger, with an air of offering some violence, but the other shrank back from his extended arm, and exclaimed, with a voice in which real terror had gotten the better of mirth:
“Barnstable! dear Barnstable! would you harm me?”
The sailor recoiled several feet, at this unexpected appeal, and rubbing his eyes, he threw the cap from his head, before he cried:
“What do I hear! and what do I see! There lies the Ariel – and yonder is the frigate. Can this be Katherine Plowden!”
His doubts, if any doubts remained, were soon removed, for the stranger sank on the bank at her side, in an attitude in which female bashfulness was beautifully contrasted with her attire, and gave vent to her mirth in an uncontrollable burst of merriment.
From that moment, all thoughts of his duty, and the pilot, or even of the Ariel, appeared to be banished from the mind of the seaman, who sprang to her side, and joined in her mirth, though he hardly knew why or wherefore.
When the diverted girl had in some degree recovered her composure, she turned to her companion, who had sat goodnaturedly by her side, content to be laughed at, and said:
“But this is not only silly, but cruel to others. I owe you an explanation of my unexpected appearance, and perhaps, also, of my extraordinary attire.”
“I can anticipate everything,” cried Barnstable; “you heard that we were on the coast, and have flown to redeem the promises you made me in America. But I ask no more; the chaplain of the frigate —”
“May preach as usual, and to as little purpose,” interrupted the disguised female; “but no nuptial benediction shall be pronounced over me, until I have effected the object of this hazardous experiment. You are not usually selfish, Barnstable; would you have me forgetful of the happiness of others?”
“Of whom do you speak?”
“My poor, my devoted cousin. I heard that two vessels answering the description of the frigate and the Ariel were seen hovering on the coast, and I determined at once to have a communication with you. I have followed your movements for a week, in this dress, but have been unsuccessful till now. Today I observed you to approach nearer to the shore than usual, and happily, by being adventurous, I have been successful.”
“Ay, God knows we are near enough to the land! But does Captain Munson know of your wish to get on board his ship?”
“Certainly not – none know of it but yourself. I thought that if Griffith and you could learn our situation, you might be tempted to hazard a little to redeem us from our thraldom. In this paper I have prepared such an account as will, I trust, excite all your chivalry, and by which you may govern your movements.”
“Our movements!” interrupted Barnstable. “You will pilot us in person.”
“Then there’s two of them!” said a hoarse voice near them.
The alarmed female shrieked as she recovered her feet, but she still adhered, with instinctive dependence, to the side of her lover. Barnstable, who recognized the tones of his cockswain, bent an angry brow on the sober visage that was peering at them above the hedge, and demanded the meaning of the interruption.
“Seeing you were hull down, sir, and not knowing but the chase might lead you ashore, Mr. Merry thought it best to have a lookout kept. I told him that you were overhauling the mailbags of the messenger for the news, but as he was an officer, sir, and I nothing but a common hand, I did as he ordered.”
“Return, sir, where I commanded you to remain,” said Barnstable, “and desire Mr. Merry to wait my pleasure.”
The cockswain gave the usual reply of an obedient seaman; but before he left the hedge, he stretched out one of his brawny arms towards the ocean, and said, in tones of solemnity suited to his apprehensions and character:
“I showed you how to knot a reef-point, and pass a gasket, Captain Barnstable, nor do I believe you could even take two half-hitches when you first came aboard of the Spalmacitty. These be things that a man is soon expart in, but it takes the time of his nat’ral life to larn to know the weather. There be streaked wind-galls in the offing, that speak as plainly to all that see them, and know God’s language in the clouds, as ever you spoke through a trumpet, to shorten sail; besides, sir, don’t you hear the sea moaning as if it knew the hour was at hand when it was to wake up from its sleep!”
“Ay, Tom,” returned his officer, walking to the edge of the cliffs, and throwing a seaman’s glance at the gloomy ocean, “’tis a threatening night indeed; but this pilot must be had – and —”
“Is that the man?” interrupted the cockswain, pointing toward a man who was standing not far from them, an attentive observer of their proceedings, the same time that he was narrowly watched himself by the young midshipman. “God send that he knows his trade well, for the bottom of a ship will need eyes to find its road out of this wild anchorage.”
“That must indeed be the man!” exclaimed Barnstable, at once recalled to his duty. He then held a short dialogue with his female companion, whom he left concealed by the hedge, and proceeded to address the stranger. When near enough to be heard, the commander of the schooner demanded:
“What water have you in this bay?”
The stranger, who seemed to expect this question, answered without the least hesitation:
“Enough to take all out in safety, who have entered with confidence.”
“You are the man I seek,” cried Barnstable; “are you ready to go off?”
“Both ready and willing,” returned the pilot, “and there is need of haste. I would give the best hundred guineas that ever were coined for two hours more use of that sun which has left us, or for even the time of this fading twilight.”
“Think you our situation so bad?” said the lieutenant. “Follow this gentleman to the boat then; I will join you by the time you can descend the cliffs. I believe I can prevail on another hand to go off with us.”
“Time is more precious now than any number of hands,” said the pilot, throwing a glance of impatience from under his lowering brows, “and the consequences of delay must be visited on those who occasion it.”
“And, sir, I will meet the consequences with those who have a right to inquire into my conduct,” said Barnstable, haughtily.
With this warning and retort they separated; the young officer retracing his steps impatiently toward his mistress, muttering his indignation in suppressed execrations, and the pilot, drawing the leathern belt of his pea-jacket mechanically around his body, as he followed the midshipman and cockswain to their boat, in moody silence.
Barnstable found the disguised female who had announced herself as Katherine Plowden, awaiting his return, with intense anxiety depicted on every feature of her intelligent countenance. As he felt all the responsibility of his situation, notwithstanding his cool reply to the pilot, the young man hastily drew an arm of the apparent boy, forgetful of her disguise, through his own, and led her forward.
“Come, Katherine,” he said, “the time urges to be prompt.”
“What pressing necessity is there for immediate departure?” she inquired, checking his movements by withdrawing herself from his side.
“You heard the ominous prognostic of my cockswain on the weather, and I am forced to add my own testimony to his opinion. Tis a crazy night that threatens us, though I cannot repent of coming into the bay, since it has led to this interview.”
“God forbid that we should either of us have cause to repent of it,” said Katherine, the paleness of anxiety chasing away the rich bloom that had mantled the animated face of the brunette. “But you have the paper – follow its directions, and come to our rescue; you will find us willing captives, if Griffith and yourself are our conquerors.”
“What mean you, Katherine!”