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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.
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Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis
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