The Pilot (31 page)

"I believe you will shortly dance yourself, Manual," interrupted
Griffith, quickly, "and in very pleasure that you have escaped an
English prison."

"Say, rather, an English gibbet," continued the elated marine; "for had
a court-martial or a court-civil discussed the manner of our entrance
into this island, I doubt whether we should have fared better than the
daredevil himself, honest—"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the impatient Griffith; "enough of this nonsense,
Captain Manual: we have other matters to discuss now. What course have
you determined to pursue, Mr. Gray?"

The Pilot started, like a man aroused from a deep musing, at this
question, and after a pause of a moment he spoke in a low tone of voice,
as if still under the influence of deep and melancholy feeling:

"The night has already run into the morning watch, but the sun is
backward to show himself in this latitude in the heart of winter.—I
must depart, my friends, to rejoin you some ten hours hence: it will be
necessary to look deeper into our scheme before we hazard anything, and
no one can do the service but myself: where shall we meet again?"

"I have reason to think that there is an unfrequented ruin at no great
distance from us," said Griffith; "perhaps we might find both shelter
and privacy among its deserted walls."

"The thought is good," returned the Pilot, "and 'twill answer a double
purpose. Could you find the place where you put the marines in ambush,
Captain Manual?"

"Has a dog a nose? and can he follow a clean scent?" exclaimed the
marine; "do you think, Signor Pilota, that a general ever puts his
forces in an ambuscade where he can't find them himself? 'Fore God! I
knew well enough where the rascals lay snoring on their knapsacks, some
half an hour ago, and I would have given the oldest majority in
Washington's army to have had them where a small intimation from myself
could have brought them in line ready dressed for a charge. I know not
how you fared, gentlemen, but, with me, the sight of twenty such
vagabonds would have been a joyous spectacle; we would have tossed that
Captain Borroughcliffe and his recruits on the point of our bayonets, as
the devil would pitch—"

"Come, come, Manual," said Griffith, a little angrily, "you constantly
forget our situation and our errand; can you lead your men hither
without discovery, before the day dawns?"

"I want but the shortest half-hour that a bad watch ever traveled over
to do it in."

"Then follow, and I will appoint a place of secret rendezvous," rejoined
Griffith; "Mr. Gray can learn our situation at the same time."

The Pilot was seen to beckon, through the gloom of the night, for his
companions to come forward; when they proceeded, with cautious steps, in
quest of the desired shelter. A short search brought them in contact
with a part of the ruinous walls, which spread over a large surface, and
which, in places, reared their black fragments against the sky, casting
a deeper obscurity across the secret recesses of the wood.

"This will do," said Griffith, when they had skirted for some distance
the outline of the crumbling fabric; "bring up your men to this point,
where I will meet you, and conduct them to some more secret place, for
which I shall search during your absence."

"A perfect paradise, after the cable-tiers of the Ariel!" exclaimed
Manual; "I doubt not but a good spot might be selected among these trees
for a steady drill,—a thing my soul has pined after for six long
months."

"Away, away!" cried Griffith; "here is no place for idle parades; if we
find shelter from discovery and capture until you shall be needed in a
deadly struggle, 'twill be well."

Manual was slowly retracing his steps to the skirts of the wood, when he
suddenly turned, and asked:

"Shall I post a small picket, a mere corporal's guard, in the open
ground in front, and make a chain of sentinels to our works?"

"We have no works—we want no sentinels," returned his impatient
commander; "our security is only to be found in secrecy. Lead up your
men under the cover of the trees, and let those three bright stars be
your landmarks—bring them in a range with the northern corner of the
wood—"

"Enough, Mr. Griffith," interrupted Manual; "a column of troops is not
to be steered like a ship, by compass, and bearings and distances;—trust
me, sir, the march shall be conducted with proper discretion, though in
a military manner."

Any reply or expostulation was prevented by the sudden disappearance of
the marine, whose retreating footsteps were heard for several moments,
as he moved at a deliberate pace through the underwood. During this
short interval, the Pilot stood reclining against the corner of the
ruins in profound silence; but when the sounds of Manual's march were no
longer audible, he advanced from under the deeper shadows of the wall,
and approached his youthful companion.

"We are indebted to the marine for our escape," he said; "I hope we are
not to suffer by his folly."

"He is what Barnstable calls a rectangular man," returned Griffith, "and
will have his way in matters of his profession, though a daring
companion in a hazardous expedition. If we can keep him from exposing us
by his silly parade, we shall find him a man who will do his work like a
soldier, sir, when need happens."

"'Tis all I ask; until the last moment, he and his command must be
torpid; for if we are discovered, any attempt of ours, with some twenty
bayonets and a half-pike or two, would be useless against the force that
would be brought to crush us."

"The truth of your opinion is too obvious," returned Griffith; "these
fellows will sleep a week at a time in a gale at sea, but the smell of
the land wakes them up, and I fear 'twill be hard to keep them close
during the day."

"It must be done, sir, by the strong hand of force," said the Pilot
sternly, "if it cannot be done by admonition; if we had no more than the
recruits of that drunken martinet to cope with, it would be no hard task
to drive them into the sea; but I learned in my prison that horse are
expected on the shore with the dawn; there is one they call Dillon, who
is on the alert to do us mischief."

"The miscreant!" muttered Griffith; "then you also have had communion,
sir, with some of the inmates of St. Ruth?"

"It behooves a man who is embarked in a perilous enterprise to seize all
opportunities to learn his hazard," said the Pilot, evasively: "if the
report be true, I fear we have but little hopes of succeeding in our
plans."

"Nay, then, let us take the advantage of the darkness to regain the
schooner; the coasts of England swarm with hostile cruisers, and a rich
trade is flowing into the bosom of this island from the four quarters of
the world; we shall not seek long for a foe worthy to contend with, nor
for the opportunities to cut up the Englishman in his sinews of war—his
wealth."

"Griffith," returned the Pilot, in his still, low tones, that seemed to
belong to a man who never knew ambition, nor felt human passion, "I grow
sick of this struggle between merit and privileged rank. It is in vain
that I scour the waters which the King of England boastingly calls his
own, and capture his vessels in the very mouths of his harbors, if my
reward is to consist only of isolated promises, and hollow professions:
but your proposition is useless to me; I have at length obtained a ship
of a size sufficient to convey my person to the shores of honest, plain-
dealing America; and I would enter the hall of Congress, on my return,
attended by a few of the legislators of this learned isle, who think
they possess the exclusive privilege to be wise, and virtuous, and
great."

"Such a retinue might doubtless be grateful both to your own feelings
and those who would receive you," said Griffith, modestly; "but would it
effect the great purposes of our struggle? or is it an exploit, when
achieved, worth the hazard you incur?"

Griffith felt the hand of the Pilot on his own, pressing it with a
convulsive grasp, as he replied, in a voice, if possible, even more
desperately calm than his former tones:

"There is a glory in it, young man; if it be purchased with danger, it
shall be rewarded by fame! It is true, I wear your republican livery,
and call the Americans my brothers; but it is because you combat in
behalf of human nature. Were your cause less holy, I would not shed the
meanest drop that flows in English veins to serve it; but now, it
hallows every exploit that is undertaken in its favor, and the names of
all who contend for it shall belong to posterity. Is there no merit in
teaching these proud islanders that the arm of liberty can pluck them
from the very empire of their corruption and oppression?"

"Then let me go and ascertain what we most wish to know; you have been
seen there, and might attract—"

"You little know me," interrupted the Pilot; "the deed is my own. If I
succeed, I shall claim the honor, and it is proper that I incur the
hazard; if I fail, it will be buried in oblivion, like fifty others of
my schemes, which, had I power to back me, would have thrown this
kingdom in consternation, from the lookouts on the boldest of its
headlands, to those on the turrets of Windsor Castle. But I was born
without nobility of twenty generations to corrupt my blood and deaden my
soul, and am not trusted by the degenerate wretches who rule the French
marine."

"'Tis said that ships of two decks are building from our own oak," said
Griffith, "and you have only to present yourself in America, to be
employed most honorably."

"Ay! the republics cannot doubt the man who has supported their flag,
without lowering it an inch, in so many bloody conflicts! I do go there,
Griffith, but my way lies on this path; my pretended friends have bound
my hands often, but my enemies, never—neither shall they now. Ten hours
will determine all I wish to know, and with you I trust the safety of
the party till my return: be vigilant, but be prudent"

"If you should not appear at the appointed hour," exclaimed Griffith, as
he beheld the Pilot turning to depart, "where am I to seek, and how
serve you?"

"Seek me not, but return to your vessel; my earliest years were passed
on this coast,—and I can leave the island, should it be necessary, as I
entered it, aided by this disguise and my own knowledge: in such an
event, look to your charge, and forget me entirely."

Griffith could distinguish the silent wave of his hand when the Pilot
concluded, and the next instant he was left alone. For several minutes
the young man continued where he had been standing, musing on the
singular endowments and restless enterprise of the being with whom
chance had thus unexpectedly brought him in contact, and with whose fate
and fortune his own prospects had, by the intervention of unlooked-for
circumstances, become intimately connected. When the reflections excited
by recent occurrences had passed away, he entered within the sweeping
circle of the ruinous walls, and, after a very cursory survey of the
state of the dilapidated building, he was satisfied that it contained
enough secret places to conceal his men, until the return of the Pilot
should warn them that the hour had come when they must attempt the
seizure of the devoted sportsmen, or darkness should again facilitate
their return to the Ariel. It was now about the commencement of that
period of deep night which seamen distinguish as the morning watch, and
Griffith ventured to the edge of the little wood, to listen if any
sounds or tumult indicated that they were pursued. On reaching a point
where his eye could faintly distinguish distant objects, the young man
paused, and bestowed a close and wary investigation on the surrounding
scene.

The fury of the gale had sensibly abated, but a steady current of sea
air was rushing through the naked branches of the oaks, lending a dreary
and mournful sound to the gloom of the dim prospect. At the distance of
a short half mile, the confused outline of the pile of St. Ruth rose
proudly against the streak of light which was gradually increasing above
the ocean, and there were moments when the young seaman even fancied he
could discern the bright caps that topped the waves of his own disturbed
element. The long, dull roar of the surf, as it tumbled heavily on the
beach or dashed with unbroken violence against the hard boundary of
rocks, was borne along by the blasts distinctly to his ears. It was a
time and a situation to cause the young seaman to ponder deeply on the
changes and chances of his hazardous profession. Only a few short hours
had passed since he was striving with his utmost skill, and with all his
collected energy, to guide the enormous fabric, in which so many of his
comrades were now quietly sleeping on the broad ocean, from that very
shore on which he now stood in cool indifference to the danger. The
recollection of home, America, his youthful and enduring passion, and
the character and charms of his mistress, blended in a sort of wild and
feverish confusion, which was not, however, without its pleasures, in
the ardent fancy of the young man; and he was slowly approaching, step
by step, toward the Abbey, when the sound of footsteps, proceeding
evidently from the measured tread of disciplined men, reached his ears.
He was instantly recalled to his recollection by this noise, which
increased as the party deliberately approached; and in a few moments he
was able to distinguish a line of men, marching in order towards the
edge of the wood, from which he had himself so recently issued. Retiring
rapidly under the deeper shadow of the trees, he waited until it was
apparent the party intended to enter under its cover also, when he
ventured to speak.

"Who comes? and on what errand?" he cried, "A skulker, and to burrow
like a rabbit, or jump from hole to hole, like a wharf-rat!" said
Manual, sulkily; "here have I been marching, within half musket shot of
the enemy, without daring to pull a trigger even on their outposts,
because our muzzles are plugged with that universal extinguisher of
gunpowder, called prudence. 'Fore God! Mr. Griffith, I hope you may
never feel the temptation to do an evil deed, which I felt just now, to
throw a volley of small shot into that dog-kennel of a place, if it were
only to break its windows and let in the night air upon the sleeping
sot, who is dozing away the fumes of some as good, old south-side—hark
ye, Mr. Griffith, one word in your ear."