The Pilot (30 page)

"Hurrah!" shouted the unconscious Barnstable, from the edge of the
quarter-deck, where, attended by a few men, he was driving all before
him. "Revenge!—long Tom and victory!"

"We have them!" exclaimed the Englishman; "handle your pikes! we have
them between two fires."

The battle would probably have terminated very differently from what
previous circumstances had indicated, had not a wild-looking figure
appeared in the cutter's channels at that moment, issuing from the sea,
and gaining the deck at the same instant. It was long Tom, with his iron
visage rendered fierce by his previous discomfiture, and his grizzled
locks drenched with the briny element from which he had risen, looking
like Neptune with his trident. Without speaking, he poised his harpoon,
and, with a powerful effort, pinned the unfortunate Englishman to the
mast of his own vessel.

"Starn all!" cried Tom by a sort of instinct, when the blow was struck;
and catching up the musket of the fallen marine, he dealt out terrible
and fatal blows with its butt on all who approached him, utterly
disregarding the use of the bayonet on its muzzle. The unfortunate
commander of the Alacrity brandished his sword with frantic gestures,
while his eyes rolled in horrid wildness, when he writhed for an instant
in his passing agonies, and then, as his head dropped lifeless upon his
gored breast, he hung against the spar, a spectacle of dismay to his
crew, A few of the Englishmen stood chained to the spot in silent horror
at the sight, but most of them fled to their lower deck, or hastened to
conceal themselves in the secret parts of the vessel, leaving to the
Americans the undisputed possession of the Alacrity.

Two-thirds of the cutter's crew suffered either in life or limbs, by
this short struggle; nor was the victory obtained by Barnstable without
paying the price of several valuable lives. The first burst of conquest
was not, however, the moment to appreciate the sacrifice, and loud and
reiterated shouts proclaimed the exultation of the conquerors. As the
flush of victory subsided, however, recollection returned, and
Barnstable issued such orders as humanity and his duty rendered
necessary. While the vessels were separating, and the bodies of the dead
and wounded were removing, the conqueror paced the deck of his prize, as
if lost in deep reflection. He passed his hand, frequently, across his
blackened and blood-stained brow, while his eyes would rise to examine
the vast canopy of smoke that was hovering above the vessels, like a
dense fog exhaling from the ocean. The result of his deliberations was
soon announced to the crew.

"Haul down all your flags," he cried; "set the Englishman's colors
again, and show the enemy's jack above our ensign in the Ariel."

The appearance of the whole channel-fleet within half gunshot would not
have occasioned more astonishment among the victors than this
extraordinary mandate. The wondering seamen suspended their several
employments, to gaze at the singular change that was making in the
flags, those symbols that were viewed with a sort of reverence; but none
presumed to comment openly on the procedure except long Tom, who stood
on the quarter-deck of the prize, straightening the pliable iron of the
harpoon which be had recovered with as much care and diligence as if it
were necessary to the maintenance of their conquest. Like the others,
however, he suspended his employment when he heard this order, and
manifested no reluctance to express his dissatisfaction at the measure.

"If the Englishmen grumble at the fight, and think it not fair play,"
muttered the old cockswain, "let us try it over again, sir; as they are
somewhat short of hands, they can send a boat to the land, and get off a
gang of them lazy riptyles, the soldiers, who stand looking at us, like
so many red lizards crawling on a beach, and we'll give them another
chance; but damme, if I see the use of whipping them, if this is to be
the better end of the matter."

"What's that you're grumbling there, like a dead northeaster, you horse-
mackerel?" said Barnstable; "where are our friends and countrymen who
are on the land? Are we to leave them to swing on gibbets or rot in
dungeons?"

The cockswain listened with great earnestness, and when his commander
had spoken, he struck the palm of his broad hand against his brawny
thigh, with a report like a pistol, and answered:

"I see how it is, sir; you reckon the red-coats have Mr. Griffith in
tow. Just run the schooner into shoal water, Captain Barnstable, and
drop an anchor, where we can get the long gun to bear on them, and give
me the whale-boat and five or six men to back me—they must have long
legs if they get an offing before I run them aboard!"

"Fool! do you think a boat's crew could contend with fifty armed
soldiers?"

"Soldiers!" echoed Tom, whose spirits had been strongly excited by the
conflict, snapping his fingers with ineffable disdain; "that for all the
soldiers that were ever rigged: one whale could kill a thousand of them!
and here stands the man that has killed his round hundred of whales!"

"Pshaw, you grampus, do you turn braggart in your old age?"

"It's no bragging, sir, to speak a log-book truth! but if Captain
Barnstable thinks that old Tom Coffin carries a speaking-trumpet for a
figure-head, let him pass the word forrard to man the boats."

"No, no, my old master at the marlinspike," said Barnstable, kindly, "I
know thee too well, thou brother of Neptune! but shall we not throw the
bread-room dust in those Englishmen's eyes, by wearing their bunting a
while, till something may offer to help our captured countrymen."

The cockswain shook his head and cogitated a moment, as if struck with
sundry new ideas, when he answered:

"Ay, ay, sir; that's blue-water philosophy: as deep as the sea! Let the
riptyles clew up the corners of their mouths to their eyebrows, now!
when they come to hear the ra'al Yankee truth of the matter, they will
sheet them down to their leather neckcloths!"

With this reflection the cockswain was much consoled, and the business
of repairing damages and securing the prize proceeded without further
interruption on his part. The few prisoners who were unhurt were rapidly
transferred to the Ariel. While Barnstable was attending to this duty,
an unusual bustle drew his eyes to one of the hatchways, where he beheld
a couple of his marines dragging forward a gentleman, whose demeanor and
appearance indicated the most abject terror. After examining the
extraordinary appearance of this individual, for a moment, in silent
amazement, the lieutenant exclaimed:

"Who have we here? some amateur in fights! an inquisitive, wonder-
seeking non-combatant, who has volunteered to serve his king, and
perhaps draw a picture, or write a book, to serve himself! Pray, sir, in
what capacity did you serve in this vessel?"

The captive ventured a sidelong glance at his interrogator, in whom he
expected to encounter Griffith, but perceiving that it was a face he did
not know, he felt a revival of confidence that enabled him to reply:

"I came here by accident; being on board the cutter at the time her late
commander determined to engage you. It was not in his power to land me,
as I trust you will not hesitate to do; your conjecture of my being a
non-combatant—"

"Is perfectly true," interrupted Barnstable; "it requires no spyglass to
read that name written on you from stem to stern: but for certain
weighty reasons—"

He paused to turn at a signal given him by young Merry, who whispered
eagerly, in his ear:

"'Tis Mr. Dillon, kinsman of Colonel Howard; I've seen him often,
sailing in the wake of my cousin Cicely."

"Dillon!" exclaimed Barnstable, rubbing his hands with pleasure; "what,
Kit of that name! he with 'the Savannah face, eyes of black, and skin of
the same color?' he's grown a little whiter with fear; but he's a prize,
at this moment, worth twenty Alacrities!"

These exclamations were made in a low voice, and at some little distance
from the prisoner, whom he now approached and addressed:

"Policy, and consequently duty, require that I should detain you for a
short time, sir; but you shall have a sailor's welcome to whatever we
possess, to lessen the weight of captivity."

Barnstable precluded any reply, by bowing to his captive, and turning
away to superintend the management of his vessels. In a short time it
was announced that they were ready to make sail, when the Ariel and her
prize were brought close to the wind, and commenced beating slowly along
the land, as if intending to return to the bay whence the latter had
sailed that morning. As they stretched in to the shore on the first
tack, the soldiers on the cliffs rent the air with their shouts and
acclamations, to which Barnstable, pointing to the assumed symbols that
were fluttering in the breeze from his masts, directed his crew to
respond in the most cordial manner. As the distance, and the want of
boats, prevented any further communication, the soldiers, after gazing
at the receding vessels for a time, disappeared from the cliffs, and
were soon lost from the sight of the adventurous mariners. Hour after
hour was consumed in the tedious navigation, against an adverse tide,
and the short day was drawing to a close, before they approached the
mouth of their destined haven. While making one of their numerous
stretches to and from the land, the cutter, in which Barnstable
continued, passed the victim of their morning's sport, riding on the
water, the waves curling over his huge carcass as on some rounded rock,
and already surrounded by the sharks, who were preying on his
defenceless body.

"See! Master Coffin," cried the lieutenant, pointing out the object to
his cockswain as they glided by it, "the shovel-nosed gentlemen are
regaling daintily: you have neglected the Christian's duty of burying
your dead."

The old seaman cast a melancholy look at the dead whale and replied:

"If I had the creatur in Boston Bay, or on the Sandy Point of Munny-Moy,
'twould be the making of me! But riches and honor are for the great and
the larned, and there's nothing left for poor Tom Coffin to do but to
veer and haul on his own rolling-tackle, that he may ride out on the
rest of the gale of life without springing any of his old spars."

"How now, long Tom!" cried his officer, "these rocks and cliffs will
shipwreck you on the shoals of poetry yet; you grow sentimental!"

"Them rocks might wrack any vessel that struck them," said the literal
cockswain; "and as for poetry, I wants none better than the good old
song of Captain Kidd; but it's enough to raise solemn thoughts in a Cape
Poge Indian, to see an eighty-barrel whale devoured by shirks—'tis an
awful waste of property! I've seen the death of two hundred of the
creaturs, though it seems to keep the rations of poor old Tom as short
as ever."

The cockswain walked aft, while the vessel was passing the whale, and
seating himself on the taffrail, with his face resting gloomily on his
bony hand, he fastened his eyes on the object of his solicitude, and
continued to gaze at it with melancholy regret, while it was to be seen
glistening in the sunbeams, as it rolled its glittering side of white
into the air, or the rays fell unreflected on the black and rougher coat
of the back of the monster. In the mean time, the navigators diligently
pursued their way for the haven we have mentioned, into which they
steered with every appearance of the fearlessness of friends, and the
exultation of conquerors.

A few eager and gratified spectators lined the edges of the small bay,
and Barnstable concluded his arrangement for deceiving the enemy, by
admonishing his crew that they were now about to enter on a service that
would require their utmost intrepidity and sagacity.

"Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle."
King John.

As Griffith and his companions rushed from the offices of St. Ruth into
the open air, they encountered no one to intercept their flight, or
communicate the alarm. Warned by the experience of the earlier part of
the same night, they avoided the points where they knew the sentinels
were posted, though fully prepared to bear down all resistance, and were
soon beyond the probability of immediate detection. They proceeded, for
the distance of half a mile, with rapid strides, and with the stern and
sullen silence of men who expected to encounter immediate danger,
resolved to breast it with desperate resolution; but, as they plunged
into a copse that clustered around the ruin which has been already
mentioned, they lessened their exertions to a more deliberate pace, and
a short but guarded dialogue ensued "We have had a timely escape," said
Griffith; "I would much rather have endured captivity, than have been
the cause of introducing confusion and bloodshed in the peaceful
residence of Colonel Howard."

"I would, sir, that you had been of this opinion some hours earlier,"
returned the Pilot, with a severity in his tones that even conveyed more
meaning than his words.

"I may have forgotten my duty, sir, in my anxiety to enquire into the
condition of a family in whom I feel a particular interest," returned
Griffith, in a manner in which pride evidently struggled with respect;
"but this is not a time for regrets; I apprehend that we follow you on
an errand of some moment, where actions would be more acceptable than
any words of apology. What is your pleasure now?"

"I much fear that our project will be defeated," said the Pilot,
gloomily; "the alarm will spread with the morning fogs, and there will
be musterings of the yeomen, and consultations of the gentry, that will
drive all thoughts of amusement from their minds. The rumor of a descent
will, at any time, force sleep from the shores of this island, to at
least ten leagues inland."

"Ay, you have probably passed some pleasant nights, with your eyes open,
among them, yourself, Master Pilot," said Manual; "they may thank the
Frenchman, Thurot, in the old business of '56, and our own daredevil,
the bloody Scotchman, as the causes of their quarters being so often
beaten up. After all, Thurot, with his fleet, did no more than bully
them a little, and the poor fellow was finally extinguished by a few
small cruisers, like a drummer's boy under a grenadier's cap; but honest
Paul sang a different tune for his countrymen to dance to, and—"