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 LIBRARY 
 
 UWIVERS!TY OF J | 
 
 CALIFORNIA M \ 
 
MlnBtvutth (dahtot Ebtttott 
 
 MILES WALLINGFORD 
 
 By 
 
 James Fenimore Cooper 
 
 Boston 
 Dana Estes & Company 
 
 PiiblUhers 
 
?S)409 
 
 iqoo 
 
 UNDER6RAD. 
 LIBRARY 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 MILES WALLINGFORD 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The recognition Frontispiece 
 
 Photogravure from Darley steel plate 
 
 I FOUND Grace reclining on the settee ... 96 
 Photogravure from a French engraving 
 
 Neb seized the hawser and hauled the launch 
 
 ABOARD 355 
 
 Photogravure from Darley steel plate 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 The conclusion of this tale requires but little preface. 
 Many persons may think that there is too much of an old 
 man's despondency in a few of the opinions of this portion 
 of the work ; but after sixty it is seldom we view the things 
 of this world en beau. There are certain political allusions, 
 very few in number, but pretty strong in language, that the 
 signs of the times fully justify in the editor's judgment; 
 though he does not profess to give his own sentiments in 
 this wo:k, so much as those of the subject of the narrative 
 himself. " The anti-rent combination," for instance, will 
 prove, according to the editor's conjectures, to be one of two 
 things in this community — the commencement of a dire revo- 
 lution or the commencement of a return to the sounder no- 
 tions and juster principles that prevailed among us thirty 
 years since, than certainly prevail to-day. There is one 
 favorable symptom discoverable in the deep-seated disease 
 that pervades the social system ; men dare and do deal more 
 honestly and frankly with the condition of society in this 
 country than was done a few years since. This right, one 
 that ought to be most dear to every freeman, has been recov- 
 ered only by painful sacrifices and a stern resolution ; but 
 recovered it has been, in some measure; and were the pens 
 of the country true to their owners' privileges, we should 
 soon come to a just view of the sacred nature of private 
 character, as well as the target-like vulnerability of public 
 follies and public vice. It is certain that, for a series of 
 dangerous years, notions ^ust the reverse of this have pre- 
 vailed among us, gradually rendering the American press 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 equally the vehicle of the most atrocious personal calumny, 
 and the most flatulent national self-adulation. It is under 
 such a state of things that the few evils alluded to in this 
 work have had their rise. Bodies of men, however ignorant 
 or small, have come to consider themselves as integral por- 
 tions of a community that never errs, and, consequently, en- 
 titled to esteem themselves infallible. When in debt, they 
 have fancied it political liberty to pay their debts by the 
 strong hand ; a very easy transition for those who believe 
 themselves able to effect all their objects. The disease has 
 already passed out of New York into Pennsylvania; it will 
 spread, like any other epidemic, throughout the country; 
 and there will soon be a severe struggle among us, between 
 the knave and the honest man. Let the class of the latter 
 look to it. It is to be hoped it is still sufficiently powerful 
 to conquer. 
 
 These few remarks are made in explanation of certain 
 opinions of Mr. Wallingford, that have been extorted from 
 him by the events of the day, as he was preparing this work 
 for the press, remarks that might seem out of place, were it 
 not a part of his original plan, which contemplated enlarg- 
 ing far more than he has, indeed, on some of the prominent 
 peculiarities of the state of society in which he has passed 
 the greater part of his days. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 But I'll not chide thee ; 
 Let shame come when it will, I do not call it ; 
 I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, 
 Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove ; 
 Mend when thou canst — 
 
 Lear. 
 
 It is almost as impossible to describe minutely what oc- 
 curred on the boat's reaching the Wallingford, as to describe 
 all the terrific incidents of the struggle between Drewett 
 and myself in the water. I had sufficient perception, how- 
 ever, to see, as I was assisted on board by Mr. Hardinge 
 and Neb, that Lucy was not on deck. She had probably 
 gone to join Grace, with a view to be in readiness for meet- 
 ing the dire intelligence that was expected. I afterward 
 learned that she was long on her knees in the after-cabin, 
 engaged in that convulsive prayer which is apt to accom- 
 pany sudden and extreme distress in those who appeal to 
 God in their agony. 
 
 During the brief moments, and they were but mere par- 
 ticles of time, if one can use such an expression, in which 
 my senses could catch anything beyond the horrid scene in 
 which I was so closely engaged, I had heard shrill screams 
 from the lungs of Chloe; but Lucy's voice had not mingled 
 in the outcry. Even now, as we were raised, or aided, to 
 the deck, the former stood, with her face gl istening with 
 tears, half convulsed with terror and half expanding with 
 delight, uncertain whether to laugh or to weep, looking first 
 
8 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 at her master and then at her own admirer, until her feel- 
 ings found a vent in the old exclamation of "de feller! " 
 
 It was fortunate for Andrew Drewett that a man of Post's 
 experience and steadiness was with us. No sooner was the 
 seemingly lifeless body on board, than Mr. Hardinge or- 
 dered the water-cask to be got out; and he and Marble 
 would have soon been rolling the poor fellow with all their 
 might, or holding him up by the heels, under the notion 
 that the water he had swallowed must be got out of him, 
 before he could again breathe; but the authority of one so 
 high in the profession soon put a stop to this. Drewett's 
 wet clothes were immediately removed, blankets were 
 warmed at the galley, and the most judicious means were 
 resorted to, in order to restore the circulation. The physi- 
 cian soon detected signs of life, and, ordering all but one or 
 two assistants to leave the spot, in ten minutes Drew6tt 
 was placed in a warm bed, and might be considered out of 
 danger. 
 
 The terrific scene enacted so directly before his eyes, 
 produced an effect on the AUonny man, who consented to 
 haul aft his main-sheet, lower his studding-sail and topsail, 
 come by the wind, stand across to the Wallingford, heave- 
 to, and lower a boat. This occurred just as Drewett was 
 taken below; and, a minute later, old Mrs. Drewett and her 
 two daughters, Helen and Caroline, were brought alongside 
 of us. The fears of these tender relatives were allayed by 
 my report; for, by this time, I could both talk and walk; 
 and Post raised no objection to their being permitted to go 
 below. I seized that opportunity to jump down into the 
 sloop's hold, where Neb brought me some dry clothes; and 
 I was soon in a warm, delightful glow, that contributed in 
 no small degree to my comfort. So desperate had been my 
 struggles, however, that it took a good night's rest com- 
 pletely to restore the tone of my nerves and all my strength. 
 My arrangements were barely completed, when I was sum- 
 moned to the cabin. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 9 
 
 Grace met me with extended arms. She wept on my 
 bosom for many minutes. She was dreadfully agitated as it 
 was; though happily she knew nothing of the cause of 
 Chloe's screams, and of the confusion on deck, until I was 
 known to be safe. Then Lucy communicated all the facts 
 to her in as considerate a manner as her own kind and 
 gentle nature could dictate. I was sent for, as just stated, 
 and caressec' like any other precious thing that its owner 
 had supposed itself about to lose. We were still in an agi- 
 tated state, when Mr. Hardinge appeared at the door of the 
 cabin, with a prayer-book in his hand. He demanded our 
 attention, all kneeling in both cabins, while the good, 
 simple-minded old man read some of the collects, the Lord's 
 Prayer, and concluded with the thanksgiving for " a safe 
 return from sea " ! He would have given us the marriage 
 ceremony itself, before he would have gone out of the 
 prayer-book for any united worship whatever. 
 
 It was impossible not to smile at this last act of pious 
 simplicity, while it was equally impossible not to be touched 
 with such an evidence of sincere devotion. The offering 
 had a soothing influence on all our feelings, and most espe- 
 cially on those of the excited females. As I came out into 
 the main cabin, after this act of devotion, the excellent 
 divine took me in his arms, kissed me just as he had been 
 used to do when a boy, and blessed me aloud. I confess I 
 was obliged to rush on deck to conceal my emotion. 
 
 In a few minutes I became sufficiently composed to order 
 sail made on our course, when we followed the Orpheus up 
 the river, soon passing her, and taking care to give her a 
 wide berth — a precaution I long regretted not having used 
 at first. As Mrs. Drewett and her two daughters refused to 
 quit Andrew, we had the whole family added to our party, 
 as it might be, perforce. I confess to having been suffi- 
 ciently selfish to complain a little, to myself only, however, 
 at always finding these people in my way, during the brief 
 intervals I now enjoyed of being near Lucy. As there was 
 
lO MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 no help, after seeing all the canvas spread, I took a seat in 
 one of the chairs that stood on the main deck, and began, 
 for the first time, coolly to ponder on all that had just 
 passed. While thus occupied, Marble drew a chair to my 
 side, gave me a cordial squeeze of the hand, and began to 
 converse. At this moment, neatly tricked out in dry clothes, 
 stood Neb on the forecastle, with his arms folded, sailor- 
 fashion, as calm as if he had never felt the wind blow ; oc- 
 casionally giving in, however, under the influence of Chloe's 
 smiles and unsophisticated admiration. In these moments 
 of weakness, the black would bow his head, give vent to a 
 short laugh, when, suddenly recovering himself, he would en- 
 deavor to appear dignified. While this pantomime was in the 
 course of exhibition forward, the discourse aft did not flag. 
 
 "Providence intends you for something remarkable, 
 Miles," my mate continued, after one or two brief expres- 
 sions of his satisfaction at my safety ; " something uncom- 
 monly remarkable, depend on it. First, you were spared in 
 the boat off the Isle of Bourbon ; then, in another boat off 
 Delaware Bay ; next, you got rid of the Frenchman so dex- 
 terously in the British Channel; after that, there was the 
 turn-up with the bloody Smudge and his companions ; next 
 comes the recapture of the Crisis; sixthly, as one might say, 
 you picked me up at sea, a runaway hermit ; and now here, 
 this very day, seventhly and lastly, are you sitting safe and 
 sound, after carrying as regular a lubber as ever fell over- 
 board, on your head and shoulders, down to the bottom of 
 the Hudson no less than three times ! I consider you to be 
 the only man living who ever sank his three times, and 
 came up to tell of it with his own tongue." 
 
 " I am not at all conscious of having said one word about 
 it, Moses," I retorted, a little dryly. 
 
 " Every motion, every glance of your eye, boy, tells the 
 story. No ; Providence intends you for something remark- 
 able, you may rely on that. One of these days you may go 
 to Congress — who knows ? " 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. II 
 
 " By the same rule, you are to be included, then ; for in 
 most of my adventures you have been a sharer, besides 
 having quantities that are exclusively your own. Remem- 
 ber, you have even been a hermit." 
 
 " Hu-s-h — not a syllable about it, or the children would 
 run after me as a sight. You must have generalized in a re- 
 markable way. Miles, after you sunk the last time, without 
 much hope ol coming up again? " 
 
 " Indeed, my friend, you are quite right in your conjec- 
 ture. So near a view of death is apt to make us all take 
 rapid and wide views of the past. I believe it even crossed 
 my mind iYi2.t you would miss me sadly." 
 
 " Ay," returned Marble, with feeling, " them are the mo- 
 ments to bring out the truth ! Not a juster idee passed your 
 brain than that^ Master Miles, I can assure you. Missed 
 you ! I would have bought a boat and started for Marble 
 Land, never again to quit it, the day after the funeral. But 
 there stands your cook, fidgeting and looking this way, as if 
 she had a word to put in on the occasion. This expl'ite of 
 Neb's will set the niggers up in the world; and it wouldn't 
 surprise me if it cost you a suit of finery all round." 
 
 " A price I will cheerfully pay for my life. It is as you 
 say — Dido certainly wishes to speak to me, and I must give 
 her an invitation to come nearer." 
 
 Dido Clawbonny was the cook of the family, and the 
 mother of Chloe. Whatever hypercriticism might object to 
 her color, which was a black out of which all the gloss had 
 fairly glistened itself over the fire, no one could deny her 
 being full blown. Her weight was exactly two hundred, and 
 her countenance a strange medley of the light-heartedness 
 of her race, and the habitual and necessary severity of a 
 cook. She often protested that she was weighed down by 
 " responsibility " ; the whole of the discredit of over-done 
 beef, or under-done fish, together with those which attach 
 themselves to heavy bresyi, lead-like buckwheat cakes, and 
 a hundred other similar cases, belonging exclusively to her 
 
12 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 office. She had been twice married, the last connection 
 having been formed only a twelvemonth before. In obedi- 
 ence to a sign, this important lady now approached. 
 
 "Welcome back, Masser Mile," Dido began with a 
 curtsey, meaning " Welcome back from being half drowned " ; 
 "ebberyboddy so grad you isn't hurt! " 
 
 "Thank you, Dido — thank you, with all my heart. If I 
 have gained nothing else by the ducking, I have gained a 
 knowledge of the manner in which my servants love me." 
 
 " Lor' bless us all ! How we help it, Masser Mile? As if 
 a body can posserbly help how lub come and go! Lub jest 
 like religion, Masser Mile — some get him, and some don't. 
 But lub for a young masser and a young missus, sar — dat 
 jest as nat'ral, as lub for ole masser and ole missus. I t'ink 
 nut'in' of neider." 
 
 Luckily, I was too well acquainted with the Clawbonny 
 dialect to need a vocabulary in order to understand the 
 meaning cf Dido. All she wished to express was the idea 
 that it was so much a matter of course for the dependents of 
 the family to love its heads, that she did not think the mere 
 circumstance, in itself, worthy of a second thought. 
 
 " Well, Dido," I said, " how does matrimony agree with 
 you, in your old age? I hear you took a second partner to 
 yourself, while I was last at sea." 
 
 Dido let her eyes fall on the deck, according to the cus- 
 tom of all brides, let their color be what it may ; manifested 
 a proper degree of confusion, then curtesied, turned her 
 full-moon face so as to resemble a half-moon, and answered, 
 with a very suspicious sort of a sigh — 
 
 "Yes, Masser Mile, dat jest so. I did t'ink to wait and 
 ask 'e young masser's consent; but Cupid say" — not the 
 god of love, but an old negro of that name, Dido's second 
 partner — " but Cupid say, * What odd he make to Masser 
 Mile? he long way off, and he won't care'; and so, sah, 
 rader than be tormented so by Cupid, one had altogedder 
 better be married at once — dat all, sah." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 3 
 
 " And that is quite enough, my good woman ; that every- 
 thing may be in rule, I give my consent now, and most 
 cheerfully." 
 
 "T'ankee, sah !" dropping a curtsey, and showing her 
 teeth. 
 
 " Of course the ceremony was performed by our excellent 
 rector, good Mr. Hardinge ? " 
 
 " Sartain, sah — no Clawbonny nigger t^nk he marry at all, 
 less Masser Hardinge bless him and say Amen. Ebbery- 
 body say 'e marriage is as good as ole masser and mis- 
 susses. Dis make two time Dido got married; and both 
 time good, lawful ceremunny, as ebber was. Oh! yes, 
 sah!" 
 
 " And I hope your change of condition has proved to your 
 mind, Dido, now the thing is done. Old Cupid is no great 
 matter in the way of beauty, certainly ; but he is an honest, 
 sober fellow enough." 
 
 " Yes, sah, he dat^ no one can deny. Ah ! Masser Mile, 
 'em 'ere step-husband, after all, nebber jest like a body own 
 husband! Cupid berry honest, and berry sober; but he 
 only step-husband; and dat I tell him twenty time already, 
 I do t'ink, if trut' was said." 
 
 "Perhaps you have now said it often enough — twenty 
 times are quite sufficient to tell a man such a fact." 
 
 " Yes, sah," dropping another curtsey, " if Masser Mile 
 please." 
 
 " I do please, and think you have told him that often 
 enough. If a man won't learn a thing in twenty lessons, he 
 is not worth the trouble of teaching. So tell him he's a 
 step-husband no more, but try something else. I hope he 
 makes Chloe a good father? " 
 
 "Lor', sah, he no Chloe's fadder, at all — her fadder dead 
 and gone, and nebber come back. I want to say a word to 
 young masser, 'bout Chloe and dat 'ere fellow, Neb — yes, 
 sah." • 
 
 "Well, what is it, Dido? I see they like each other, and 
 
14 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 suppose they wish to get married, too. Is that the object of 
 your visit? If so, I consent without waiting to be asked. 
 Neb will make no step-husband, I can promise you." 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry, Masser Mile," said Dido, with an 
 eagerness that showed this ready consent was anything but 
 what she wanted. " Dere many 'jection to Neb, when he 
 ask to marry a young gal in Chole sitiation. You know, 
 sah, Chloe now Miss Grace's own waitin'-maid. Nobody 
 else help her dress, or do anything in 'e young missus's 
 room, dan Chloe, sheself — my darter, Chloe Clawbonny!" 
 
 Here was a new turn given to the affair! It was "like 
 master, like man." Neb's love (or lub^ for that was just 
 the word, and just the idea, too) was no more fated to run 
 smooth than my own ; and the same objection lay against 
 us both, viz., want of gentility! I determined to say a good 
 word for the poor fellow, however; while it would have been 
 exceeding the usage of the family to interfere in any other 
 manner than by advice, in an affair of the heart. 
 
 "If Chloe is my sister's favorite servant. Dido," I re- 
 marked, "you are to remember that Neb is mine." 
 
 " Dat true, sah, and so Chloe say ; but dere great differ- 
 ence, Masser Mile, atween Clawbonny and a ship. Neb 
 own, himself, young masser, he doesn't even lib in cabin, 
 where you lib, sah." 
 
 " All that is true, Dido ; but there is a difference of an- 
 other sort between a ship and a house. The house-servant 
 may be more liked and trusted than the out-door servant; 
 but we think, at sea, it is more honorable to be a foremast- 
 hand than to be in the cabin, unless as an officer. I was a 
 foremast Jack some time, myself; and Neb is only in such 
 a berth as his master once filled." 
 
 " Dat a great deal — quite wonerful, sah— berry great deal, 
 and more dan Chloe can say, or I can wish her to say. But, 
 sah, dey say now Neb has save 'e young masser's life, young 
 masser must gib him free-paper; and no gal of mine shall 
 ebber be free nigger's wife. No, sah; 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 5 
 
 dat disgrace, which too much for fait'ful ole servant to 
 bear!" 
 
 " I am afraid, Dido, Neb is the same way of thinking. I 
 offered him his freedom, the other day, and he refused to 
 receive it. Times are changing in this country; and it will 
 be thought, soon, it is more creditable for a black to be 
 free, than to be any man's slave. The law means to free 
 all hands of you, one of these days." 
 
 " Nebber tell me dat, Masser Mile — dat day nebber come 
 for me or mine ; even ole Cupid know better dan dat. Now, 
 sah, Misser Van Blarcum's Brom want to have Chloe, 
 dreadful; but I nebber consent to sich a uner" — Dido 
 meant union — "nebber. Our family, sah, altogedder too 
 good to marry in among the Van Blarcums. Nebber has 
 been, and never shall be uner atween 'em." 
 
 " I was not aware. Dido, that the Clawbonny slaves were 
 so particular about their connections." 
 
 " Won'erful particular, sah, and ebber hab been, and eb- 
 ber will be. Don't t'ink, Masser Mile, I marry ole Cupid, 
 myself, if anoder prop'r connection offer in 'e family ; but I 
 prefar him, to marry into any oder family hereabout." 
 
 " Neb is Clawbonny, and my great friend ; so I hope you 
 will think better of his suit. Some day Chloe may like to 
 be free ; and Neb will always have it in his power to make 
 his wife free, as well as himself." 
 
 " Sah, I t'ink as you say, Masser Miles, sah — when I hab 
 done t'inkin', sah, hope young masser and young missus 
 hear what ole cook got to say, afore 'ey gives consent." 
 
 "Certainly; Chloe is your daughter, and she shall pay 
 you all due respect — for that, I will answer for my sister as 
 well as for myself. We will never encourage disrespect for 
 parents." 
 
 Dido renewed and redoubled her thanks, made another 
 profound curtsey, and withdrew with a dignity that, I dare 
 say, in Neb's and Chloe's eyes, boded little good. As for 
 myself, I now mused on the character of the things of this 
 
l6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 world. Here were people of the very humblest class known 
 in a nation — nay, of a class sealed by nature itself, and 
 doomed to inferiority — just as tenacious of the very distinc- 
 tions that were making me so miserable, and against which 
 certain persons, who are wiser than the rest of the world, 
 declaim without understanding them, and even go so far, 
 sometimes, as to deny their existence. My cook reasoned, 
 in her sphere, much as I knew that Rupert reasoned, as the 
 Drewetts reasoned, as the world reasoned, and, as I feared, 
 even Lucy reasoned in my own case ! The return of Mar- 
 ble, who had left my side as soon as Dido opened her bud- 
 get, prevented my dwelling long on this strange — I had al- 
 most said, uncouth — coincidence, and brought my mind 
 back to present things. 
 
 " As the old woman has spun her yarn. Miles," the mate 
 resumed, " we will go on with matters and things. I have 
 been talking with the mother of the youngster that fell over- 
 board, and giving her some advice for the benefit of her 
 son in time to come, and what do you think she gives as 
 the reason for the silly thing he did? " 
 
 " It is quite out of my power to say — that he was a silly 
 fellow naturally, perhaps." 
 
 " Love. It seems the poor boy is in love with this sweet 
 friend of yours, Rupert's sister, and it was nothing more 
 nor less than love which made him undertake to play rope- 
 dancer on our main-boom ! " 
 
 " Did Mrs. Drewett tell you this with her own mouth, 
 Marble?" 
 
 "That did she, Captain Wallingford, for while you were 
 discussing Neb and Chloe, with old Dido, we, that is, the 
 doctor, the mother, and myself, were discussing Andrew 
 and Lucy between ourselves. The good old lady gave me 
 to understand it was a settled thing, and that she looked on 
 Miss Hardinge already as a third daughter." 
 
 This was a strange subject for Mrs. Drewett to discuss 
 with a man like Marble, or even with Post, but some allow- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 7 
 
 ances were to be made for Marble's manner of viewing his 
 own connection with the dialogue, and more for the excited 
 condition of the mother's feelings. She was scarcely yet in 
 possession of all her faculties, and might very well commit 
 an indiscretion of this nature, more especially in her con- 
 versation with a man in Post's position, overlooking or dis- 
 regarding the presence of the mate. The effect of all that 
 had passed was to leave a strong impression on my mind 
 that I was too late. Lucy must be engaged, and waited 
 only to become of age, in order to make the settlements she 
 intended in favor of her brother, ere she was married. Her 
 manner to myself was merely the result of habit and sincere 
 friendship, a little increased in interest and gentleness, 
 perhaps, on account of the grievous wrong she felt we had 
 received from Rupert. What right had I to complain, ad- 
 mitting all this to be true? I had scarcely been aware of 
 my own passion for the dear girl, for years, and had cer- 
 tainly never attempted to make her acquainted with it. She 
 had made me no pledges, plighted no faith, received no as- 
 surances of attachment, was under no obligation to wait my 
 pleasure. So sincere was my affection for Lucy, that I re- 
 joiced even in my misery, when I remembered that not the 
 slightest imputation could be laid on her deportment, truth, 
 or frankness. On the whole, it was perhaps the more natu- 
 ral that she should love Andrew Drewett, one she met for 
 the first time after she became of an age to submit to such 
 impressions, than to love me, whom she had been educated 
 to treat with the familiarity and confidence of a brother. 
 Yes, I was even just enough to admit this. 
 
 The scene of the morning, and the presence of Mrs. 
 Drewett and her daughters, produced an entire change in 
 the spirits and intercourse of our party. The ladies re- 
 mained below most of the time, and as for Drewett himself, 
 he was advised by Post not to quit his berth until he found 
 his strength restored. Mr. Hardinge passed much time by 
 Andrew Drewett's side, offering such attentions as might be 
 
1 8 MJLES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 proper from a father to a son. At least it so seemed to me. 
 This left Marble and myself in possession of the quarter- 
 deck, though we had occasional visits from all below — 
 Grace, Lucy, and old Mrs. Drewett excepted. 
 
 In the meantime, the Wallingford continued to ascend 
 the river, favored until evening by a light southerly breeze. 
 She outsailed everything, and, just as the sun was sinking 
 behind the fine termination of the Catskill range of moun- 
 tains, we were some miles above the outlet of the stream 
 that has lent it its name. 
 
 A lovelier landscape can scarce be imagined than that 
 which presented itself from the deck of the sloop. It was 
 the first time I had ascended the river, or, indeed, that any 
 of the Clawbonny party had been up it so high, Mr. Har- 
 dinge excepted; and everybody was called on deck to look 
 at the beauties of the hour. The sloop was about a mile 
 above Hudson, and the view was to be gazed at towards the 
 south. This is, perhaps, the finest reach of this very beau- 
 tiful stream, though it is not the fashion to think so ; the 
 Highlands being the part usually preferred. It is easy 
 enough for me, who have since lived among the sublimity 
 of the Swiss and Italian lakes, to understand that there is 
 nothing of a very sublime character, relatively considered, 
 in any of the reaches of the Hudson; but it would be diffi- 
 cult to find a river that has so much which is exquisitely 
 beautiful ; and this, too, of a beauty which borders on the 
 grand. Lucy was the first person to create any doubts in 
 my mind concerning the perfection of the Highlands. Just 
 as the cockney declaims about Richmond Hill — the inland 
 view from Mont-Martre, of a clouded day, is worth twenty 
 of it — but just as the provincial London cockney declaims 
 about Richmond Hill, so has the provincial American been 
 in the habit of singing the praises of the Highlands of the 
 Hudson. The last are sufficiently striking, I will allow; 
 but they are surpassed in their own kind by a hundred 
 known mountain landscapes; while the softer parts of the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I9 
 
 river have scarcely a rival. Lucy, I repeat, was the first 
 person to teach me this distinction— Lucy, who then had 
 never seen either Alps or Apennines. But her eye was as 
 true as her principles, her tongue, or her character. AH 
 was truth about the dear girl — truth unadulterated and un- 
 alloyed. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear Mrs. Drewett," the dear girl said, as 
 she stood supporting the old lady, who leaned on her arm, 
 gazing at the glorious sunset, " the Highlands have nothing 
 to equal this ! To me this seems all that art could achieve ; 
 while I confess the views in the mountains have ever ap- 
 peared to want something that the mind can imagine." 
 
 Mrs. Drewett, though a respectable, was a commonplace 
 woman. She belonged to the vast class that do most of 
 their thinking by proxy; and it was a sort of heresy in her 
 eyes to fancy anything could surpass the Highlands. Poor 
 Mrs. Drewett! She was exceedingly cockney, without hav- 
 ing the slightest suspicion of it. Her best ought to be 
 everybody else's best. She combated Lucy's notion warmly, 
 therefore, protesting that the Highlands could not have a 
 superior. This is a sort of argument it is not easy to over- 
 come; and her companion was content to admire the scene 
 before her in silence, after urging one or two reasons in 
 support of her opinion, in her own quiet, unpretending 
 manner. 
 
 I overheard this little argument, and was a close observer 
 of the manner of the parties. Mrs. Drewett was extremely 
 indulgent, even while warmest, seeming to me to resist 
 Lucy's opinion as an affectionate mother would contend 
 with the mistaken notions of a very favorite child. On the 
 other hand, Lucy appeared confiding, and spoke as the 
 young of her sex are most apt to do, when they utter their 
 thoughts to ears they feel must be indulgent. 
 
 A sunset cannot last for ever; and even this, sweet as it 
 had been, soon became^ tame and tasteless to me. As the 
 ladies now disappeared, I determined to anchor, the wind 
 
20 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 failing, and the tide coming ahead. Marble and myself 
 had a sort of state-room fitted up for us in the hold ; and 
 thither I was glad to retire, standing really in need of rest, 
 after the terrible exertions of that day. What passed in the 
 cabins that evening, I had no opportunity of knowing, 
 though I heard laughing, and happy female voices, through 
 the bulkheads, hours after my own head was on its pillow. 
 When Marble came down to turn in, he told me the cabin 
 party had revived, and that there had been much pleasant 
 discourse among the young people; and this in a way to 
 cause even him to derive great satisfaction as a listener. 
 
 Neb gave us a call at daylight. The wind was fresh at 
 west-northwest, but the tide was just beginning to run on 
 the flood. I was so impatient to be rid of my guests, that 
 all hands were called immediately, and we got the sloop 
 under way. The pilot professed himself willing to beat up 
 through the narrow passages above, and the Wallingford's 
 greatest performance being on the wind, I was determined 
 to achieve my deliverance that very tide. The sloop drew 
 more water than was usual for the up-river craft, it is true; 
 but she was light, and, just at the moment, could go wher- 
 ever the loaded Albany vessels went. Those were not the 
 days of vast public works; and, as for sea-going craft, no 
 one had ever crossed the Overslaugh, so far as had come to 
 my knowledge. Times have changed greatly since ; but the 
 reader will remember I am writing of that remote period in 
 American history, the year of our Lord 1803. 
 
 The anchor was no sooner aweigh, than the deck became 
 a scene of activity. The breeze was stiff, and it enabled 
 me to show the Wallingford off to advantage among the 
 dull, flat-bottomed craft of that day. There were reaches 
 in which the wind favored us, too; and, by the time the 
 ladies reappeared, we were up among the islands, worming 
 our way through the narrow channels with rapidity and 
 skill. To me, and to Marble also, the scene was entirely 
 novel; and between the activity that our evolutions re- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2t 
 
 quired, and the constant change of scene, we had little 
 leisure to attend to those in the cabin. Just as breakfast 
 was announced, indeed, the vessel was approaching the 
 more difficult part of the river; and all we got of that 
 meal, we took on deck, at snatches, between the many tacks 
 we made. As good luck would have it, however, the wind 
 backed more to the westward about eight o'clock; and we 
 were enabled to stem the ebb that began to make at the 
 same time. This gave us the hope of reaching the end of 
 our passage without again anchoring. 
 
 At length we reached the Overslaugh, which, as was apt 
 to be the case, was well sprinkled with vessels aground. 
 The pilot carried us through them all, however; if not 
 literally with flying colors, which would have been re- 
 garded as an insult by the less fortunate, at least with com- 
 plete success. Then Albany came into view, leaning 
 against its sharp acclivity, and spreading over its extensive 
 bottom land. It was not the town it is to-day, by quite 
 three-fourths less in dwellings and people; but it was then, 
 as now, one of the most picturesque-looking places in 
 America. There is no better proof, in its way, how much 
 more influence the talking and writing part of mankind 
 have than the mere actors, than is to be found in the rela- 
 tive consideration of Albany, on the scale of appearance and 
 position, as compared with those enjoyed by a hundred 
 other towns, more especially in the Eastern States. Almost 
 without a competitor, as to beauty of situation, or at least 
 on a level with Richmond and Burlington, among the in- 
 land towns it was usually esteemed a Dutch place that every 
 pretender was at liberty to deride, in my younger days. We 
 are a people by no means addicted to placing our candle 
 under the bushel, and yet I cannot recall a single civil ex- 
 pression in any native writer touching the beauties of Al- 
 bany. It may have been owing to the circumstance that so 
 much of the town was under the hill at the beginning of the 
 century, and that strangers had few opportunities of seeing 
 
22 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 it to advantage; but I rather think its want of the Anglo- 
 Saxon origin was the principal reason it was so little in 
 favor. 
 
 Glad enough was I to reach the wharves, with their line 
 of storehouses, that then literally spouted wheat into the 
 sloops that crowded the quays, on its way to feed the con- 
 tending armies of Europe. Late as it was in the season, 
 wheat was still pouring outward through all the channels of 
 the country, enriching the farmers with prices that fre- 
 quently rose as high as two dollars and a half the bushel, 
 and sometimes as high as three. Yet no one was so poor in 
 America as to want bread ! The dearer the grain, the higher 
 the wages of the laborer, and the better he lived. 
 
 It was not at all late when the Wallingford was slowly 
 approaching the wharf where it was intended to bring up. 
 There was a sloop ahead of us, which we had been gradu- 
 ally approaching for the last two hours, but which was en- 
 abled to keep in advance in consequence of the lightness of 
 the wind. This dying away of the breeze rendered the ap- 
 proaching noontide calm and pleasant; and everybody in- 
 board, even to Grace, came on deck, as we moved slowly 
 past the dwellings on the eastern bank, in order to get a 
 view of the town. I proposed that the Clawbonny party 
 should land, contrary to our original intention, and profit by 
 the opportunity to see the political capital of the state at 
 our leisure. Both Grace and Lucy were inclined to listen 
 favorably; and the Drewetts, Andrew and his sisters, were 
 delighted at this prospect of our remaining together a little 
 longer. Just at this moment, the Wallingford, true to her 
 character, was coming up with the sloop ahead, and was 
 already doubling on her quarter. I was giving some orders, 
 when Lucy and Chloe, supporting Grace, passed me on their 
 way to the cabin. My poor sister was pale as death, and I 
 could see that she trembled so much she could hardly walk. 
 A significant glance from Lucy bade me not to interfere, 
 and I had sufficient self-command to obey. I turned to look 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 23 
 
 at the neighboring sloop, and found at once an explanation 
 of my sister's agitation. The Mertons and Rupert were on 
 her quarter-deck, and so near as to render it impossible to 
 avoid speaking, at least to the former. At this embarrassing 
 instant Lucy returned to my side, with a view, as I after- 
 ward learned, to urge me to carry the Wallingford to some 
 place so distant, as to remove the danger of any intercourse. 
 This accident rendered the precaution useless, the whole 
 party in the other vessel catching sight of my companion at 
 the same moment. 
 
 " This is an agreeable surprise ! " called out Emily, in 
 whose eyes Rupert's sister could not be an object of indif- 
 ference. " By your brother's and Mrs. Drewett's account, 
 we had supposed you at Clawbonny, by the bedside of Miss 
 Wallingford." 
 
 " Miss Wallingford is here, as are my father, and Mrs. 
 Drewett, and " 
 
 Lucy never let it be known who that other " and " was in- 
 tended to include. 
 
 "Well, this is altogether surprising!" put in Rupert, 
 with a steadiness of voice that really astounded me. " At 
 the very moment we were giving you lots of credit for your 
 constancy in friendship, and all that sort of thing, here you 
 are. Mademoiselle Lucie, trotting off to the Springs, like 
 all the rest of us, bent on pleasure." 
 
 " No, Rupert," answered Lucy, in a tone which I thought 
 could not fail to bring the heartless coxcomb to some sense 
 of the feeling he ought to manifest; "I am going to no 
 Springs. Doctor Post has advised a change of scene and air 
 for Grace; and Miles has brought us all up in his sloop, 
 that we may endeavor to contribute to the dear sufferer's 
 comfort, in one united family. We shall not land in 
 Albany." 
 
 I took my cue from these last words, and understood that 
 I was not even to bring the sloop alongside the wharf. 
 
 "Upon my word, it is just as she says, colonel! " cried 
 
24 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Rupert. " I can see my father on the forecastle, with Post, 
 and divers others of my acquaintance. Ay — and there's 
 Drewett, as I live ! Wallingford, too ! How fare you, noble 
 captain, up in this fresh-water stream? You must be 
 strangely out of your latitude." 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Hardinge ? " I coldly returned the 
 salutation ; and then I was obliged to speak to the major 
 and his daughter. But Neb was at the helm, and I had 
 given him a sign to sheer further from our companion. This 
 soon reduced the intercourse to a few wavings of handker- 
 chiefs, and kissings of the hand, in which all the Drewetts 
 came in for a share. As for Lucy, she walked aside, and I 
 seized the occasion to get a word in private. 
 
 "What am I to do with the sloop? " I asked. "It will 
 soon be necessary to come to some decision." 
 
 "By no means go to the wharf. Oh! this has been most 
 cruel. The cabin windows are open, and Grace must have 
 heard every syllable. Not even a question as to her health ! 
 I dread to go below and witness the effect." 
 
 I wished not to speak of Rupert to his sister, and avoided 
 the subject. The question, therefore, was simply repeated. 
 Lucy inquired if it were not possible to land our passengers 
 without bringing-up, and, hearing the truth on the subject, 
 she renewed her entreaties not to land. Room was taken 
 accordingly, and the sloop, as soon as high enough, was 
 rounded-to, and the boat lowered. The portmanteau of Post 
 was placed in it, and the Drewetts were told that everything 
 was ready to put them ashore. 
 
 " Surely we are not to part thus ! " exclaimed the old 
 lady. " You intend to land, Lucy, if not to accompany us 
 to Ballston? The waters might prove of service to Miss 
 Wallingford." 
 
 " Doctor Post thinks not, but advises us to return tran- 
 quilly down the river. We may yet go as far as Sandy 
 Hook, or even into the Sound. It all depends on dear Grace's 
 strength and inclinations." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2$ 
 
 Protestations of regret and disappointment followed, for 
 everybody appeared to think much of Lucy, and very little 
 of my poor sister. Some attempts were even made at per- 
 suasion; but the quiet firmness of Lucy soon convinced her 
 friends that she was not to be diverted from her purpose. 
 Mr. Hardinge, too, had a word to say in confirmation of his 
 daughter's decision ; and the travellers reluctantly prepared 
 to enter the boat. After he had assisted his mother over the 
 sloop's side, Andrew Drewett turned to me, and in fair, 
 gentleman-like, manly language, expressed his sense of the 
 service I had rendered him. After this acknowledgment, the 
 first he had made, I could do no less than shake his hand; 
 and we parted in the manner of those who have conferred 
 and received a favor. 
 
 I could perceive that Lucy's color heightened, and that 
 she looked exceedingly gratified, while this little scene was 
 in the course of being" acted, though I was unable to com- 
 prehend the precise feeling that was predominant in her 
 honest and truthful heart. Did that increased color proceed 
 from pleasure at the handsome manner in which Drewett 
 acquitted himself of one of the most embarrassing of all our 
 duties — the admission of a deep obligation? or was it in 
 any manner connected with her interest in me? I could not 
 ask, and of course did not learn. This scene, however, ter- 
 minated our intercourse with the Drewetts, for the moment, 
 the boat pulling away immediately after. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Misplaced in life, 
 I know not what I could have been, but feel 
 I am not what I should be — let it end. 
 
 Sardana^a^us. 
 
 Glad enough was I to find the quiet and domestic char- 
 acter of my vessel resto^^ed. Lucy had vanished as soon as 
 it was proper, but, agreeably to her request, I got the sloop's 
 
26 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 head down-stream, and began our return passage, without 
 even thinking of putting a foot on the then unknown land 
 of Albany. Marble was too much accustomed to submit 
 without inquiry to the movements of the vessel he was in to 
 raise any objections, and the Wallingford, her boat in tow, 
 was soon turning down with the tide, aided by a light wes- 
 terly wind, on her homeward course. This change kept all 
 on deck so busy, that it was some little time ere I saw 
 Lucy again. When we did meet, however, I found her sad, 
 and full of apprehension. Grace had evidently been deeply 
 hurt by Rupert's deportment. The effect on her frame was 
 such, that it was desirable to let her be as little disturbed 
 as possible. Lucy hoped she might fall asleep, for, like an 
 infant, her exhausted physical powers sought relief in this 
 resource, almost as often as the state of her mind would 
 permit. Her existence, although I did not then know it, 
 was like that of the flame which flickers in the air, and 
 which is endangered by the slightest increase of the current 
 to which the lamp may be exposed. 
 
 We succeeded in getting across the Overslaugh without 
 touching, and had got down among the islands below 
 Coejiman's,* when we were met by the new flood. The 
 wind dying away to a calm, we were compelled to select a 
 berth, and anchor. As soon as we were snug, I sought an 
 interview with Lucy, but the dear girl sent word by Chloe 
 that Grace was dozing, and that she could not see me just 
 at that moment, as her presence in the cabin was necessary 
 in order to maintain silence. On receiving this message, 
 I ordered the boat hauled up alongside; Marble, myself, 
 and Neb got in ; when the black sculled us ashore — Chloe 
 grinning at the latter's dexterity, as with one hand and a 
 mere play of the wrist he caused the water to foam under 
 the bows of our little bark. 
 
 The spot where we landed was a small but lovely gravelly 
 
 * Queeman''s, as pronounced. This is a Dutch, not an Indian name, and belongs 
 to a respectable New York family. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2/ 
 
 cove, that was shaded by three or four enormous weeping- 
 willows, and presented the very picture of peace and repose. 
 It was altogether a retired and rural bit, there being near it 
 no regular landing, no reels for seines, nor any of those 
 signs that denote a place of resort. A single cottage stood 
 on a small natural terrace, elevated some ten or twelve feet 
 above the rich bottom that sustained the willows. This cot- 
 tage was the very beau ideal of rustic neatness and home 
 comfort. It was of stone, one story in height, with a high- 
 pointed roof, and had a Dutch-looking gable that faced the 
 river and which contained the porch and outer door. The 
 stones were white as the driven snow, having been washed 
 a few weeks before. The windows had the charm of ir- 
 regularity, and everything about the dwelling proclaimed a 
 former century, and a rkgime different from that under which 
 we were then living. In fact, the figures 1698, let in as 
 iron braces to the wall of the gable, announced that the 
 house was quite as old as the second structure at Clawbonny. 
 
 The garden of this cottage was not large, but it was in 
 admirable order. It lay entirely in the rear of the dwelling; 
 and behind it, again, a small orchard, containing about a 
 hundred trees, on which the fruit began to show itself in 
 abundance, lay against the sort of amphitheatre that almost 
 enclosed this little nook against the intrusion and sight of 
 the rest of the world. There were also half a dozen huge 
 cherry trees, from which the fruit had not yet altogether dis- 
 appeared, near the house, to which they served the double 
 purpose of ornament and shade. The outhouses seemed to 
 be as old as the dwellng, and were in quite as good order. 
 
 As we drew near the shore, I directed Neb to cease scull- 
 ing, and sat gazing at this picture of retirement, and, ap- 
 parently, of content, while the boat drew towards the gravelly 
 beach, under the impetus already received. 
 
 "This is a hermitage I think I could stand, Miles," said 
 Marble, whose look hac^ not been off the spot since the mo- 
 ment we left the sloop's side. " This is what I should caU 
 
28 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 a human hermitage, and none of your out and out solitudes. 
 Room for pigs and poultry; a nice gravelly beach for your 
 boat; good fishing in the offing, I'll answer for it; a snug 
 shoulder-of-mutton sort of a house ; trees as big as a two- 
 decker's lower masts; and company within hail, should a 
 fellow happen to take it into his head that he was getting 
 melancholy. This is just the spot I would like to fetch-up 
 in, when it became time to go into dock. What a place to 
 smoke a cigar in is that bench up yonder, under the cherry 
 tree ; and grog must have a double flavor alongside of that 
 spring of fresh water ! " 
 
 " You could become the owner of this very place, Moses, 
 and then we should be neighbors, and might visit each other 
 by water. It cannot be much more than fifty miles from this 
 spot to Clawbonny." 
 
 " I dare say, now, that they would think of asking, for a 
 place like this, as much money as would buy a good whole- 
 some ship — a regular A No. i." 
 
 "No such thing; a thousand or twelve hundred dollars 
 would purchase the house, and all the land we can see — 
 some twelve or fifteen acres, at the most. You have more 
 than two thousand salted away, I know, Moses, between 
 prize money, wages, adventures, and other matters." 
 
 " I could hold my head up under two thousand, of a sar- 
 tainty. I wish the place was a little nearer Clawbonny, say, 
 eight or ten miles off; and then I do think I should talk to 
 the people about a trade." 
 
 " It's quite unnecessary, after all. I have quite as snug a 
 cove, near the creek bluff at Clawbonny, and will build a 
 house for you there, you shall not tell from a ship's cabin; 
 that would be more to your fancy." 
 
 " I've thought of that, too. Miles, and at one time fancied 
 it would be a prettyish sort of an idee; but it won't stand 
 logarithms, at all. You may build a room that shall have 
 its cabin look^ but you can't build one that'll have a cabin 
 natur'. You may get carl ins, and transoms, and lockers, and 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2g 
 
 bulkheads all right; but where are you to get your motion? 
 What's a cabin without motion? It would soon be like the 
 sea in the calm latitudes, offensive to the senses. No! none 
 of your bloody motionless cabins for me. If I'm afloat, let 
 me be afloat; if I'm ashore, let me be ashore." 
 
 Ashore we were by this time, the boat's keel grinding 
 gently on the pebbles of the beach. We landed and walked 
 towards the cottage, there being nothing about the place to 
 forbid our taking this liberty. I told Marble we would ask 
 for a drink of milk, two cows being in sight, cropping the 
 rich herbage of a beautiful little pasture. This expedient at 
 first seemed unnecessary, no one appearing about the place 
 to question our motives, or to oppose our progress. When 
 we had reached the door of the cottage, we found it open, 
 and could look within without violating any of the laws of 
 civilization. There was no vestibule, or entry; but the door 
 communicated directly with a room of some size, and which 
 occupied the whole front of the building. I dare say this 
 single room was twenty feet square, besides being of a height 
 a little greater than was then customary in buildings of that 
 class. This apartment was neatness itself. It had a home- 
 made, but really pretty carpet on the floor; contained a 
 dozen old-fashioned, high-back chairs, in some dark wood; 
 two or three tables, in which one might see his face; a 
 couple of mirrors of no great size, but of quaint gilded or- 
 naments; a buffet with some real china in it; and the 
 other usual articles of a country residence that was some- 
 what above the ordinary farm-houses of the region, and yet 
 as much below the more modest of the abodes of the higher 
 class. I supposed the cottage to be the residence of some 
 small family that had seen more of life than was customary 
 with the mere husbandman, and yet not enough to raise it 
 much above the level of the husbandman's homely habits. 
 
 We were looking in from the porch on this scene of rural 
 peace and faultless neatness, when an inner door opened in 
 the deliberate manner tnat betokens age, and the mistress of 
 
30 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the cottage appeared. She was a woman approaching 
 seventy, of middle size, a quiet, but firm step, and an air of 
 health. Her dress was of the fashion of the previous cen- 
 tury, plain, but as neat as everything around her — a spot- 
 less white apron seeming to bid defiance to the approach of 
 anything that could soil its purity. The countenance of this 
 old woman certainly did not betoken any of the refinement 
 which is the result of education and good company ; but it 
 denoted benevolence, a kind nature, and feeling. We were 
 saluted without surprise, and invited in, to be seated. 
 
 "It isn't often that sloops anchor here," said the old 
 woman — lady it would be a stretch of politeness to call her 
 — " their i^voryfe places being higher up, and lower down, 
 the river." 
 
 " And how do you account for that, mother ? " asked 
 Marble, who seated himself and addressed the mistress of 
 the cottage with a seaman's frankness. " To my fancy, this 
 is the best anchorage IVe seen in many a day — one alto- 
 gether to be coveted. One might be as much alone as he 
 liked in a spot like this, without absolutely turning your 
 bloody hermit." 
 
 The old woman gazed at Marble like one who scarce 
 knew what to make of such an animal ; and yet her look 
 was mild and indulgent. 
 
 " I account for the boatmen's preferring other places to 
 this," she said, "by the circumstance that there is no 
 tavern here ; while there is one two miles above, and an- 
 other two miles below us." 
 
 " Your remark that there is no tavern here, reminds me of 
 the necessity of apologizing for coming so boldly to your 
 door," I answered ; " but we sailors mean no impertinence, 
 though we are so often guilty of it in landing." 
 
 " You are heartily welcome. I am glad to see them that 
 understand how to treat an old woman kindly, and know 
 how to pity and pardon them that do not. At my time of 
 life we get to learn the value of fair words and good treat- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3 I 
 
 ment, for it's only a short time it will be in our power to 
 show either to our fellow creatures." 
 
 " Your favorable disposition to your fellows comes from 
 living all your days in a spot as sweet as this.'' 
 
 " I would much rather think that it comes from God. He 
 alone is the source of all that is good within us." 
 
 "Yet a spot like this must have its influence on a char- 
 acter. I dare say you have lived long in this very house, 
 which, old as you profess to be, seems to be much older 
 than yourself. It has probably been your abode ever since 
 your marriage?" 
 
 " And long before, sir. I was born in this house, as was 
 my father before me. You are right in saying that I have 
 dwelt in it ever since my marriage, for I dwelt in it long 
 before." 
 
 " This is not very encouraging for my friend here, who 
 took such a fancy to your cottage, as we came ashore, as to 
 wish to own it; but I scarce think he will venture to pur- 
 chase, now he knows how dear it must be to you." 
 
 " And has your friend no home — no place in which to put 
 his family?" 
 
 " Neither home nor family, my good mother," answered 
 Marble for himself; "and so much the greater reason, you 
 will think, why I ought to begin to think of getting both as 
 soon as possible. I never had father or mother, to my knowl- 
 edge; nor house, nor home of any sort, but a ship. I forgot; 
 I was a hermit once, and set myself up in that trade, with a 
 whole island to myself; but I soon gave up all to natur', 
 and got out of that scrape as fast as I could. The business 
 didn't suit me." 
 
 The old woman looked at Marble intently. I could see 
 by her countenance that the off-hand, sincere, earnest man- 
 ner of the mate had taken some unusual hold of her feelings. 
 
 "Hermit! " the good woman repeated with curiosity; "I 
 have often heard and read of such people ; but you are not 
 at all like them I have fancied to be hermits," 
 
32 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Another proof I undertook a business for which I was 
 not fit. I suppose a man before he sets up for a hermit 
 ought to know something of his ancestors, as one looks to 
 the pedigree of a horse in order to find out whether he is 
 fit for a racer. No a^, as I happen to know nothing of mine, 
 it is no wonder I fell into a mistake. It's an awkward 
 thing, old lady, for a man to be born without a name." 
 
 The eye of our hostess was still bright and full of ani- 
 mation, and I never saw a keener look than she fastened on 
 the mate, as he delivered himself in this, one of his usual 
 fits of misanthropical feeling. 
 
 "And -were yoti born without a name?" she asked, after 
 gazing intently at the other. 
 
 " Sartin. Everybody is born with only one name; but I 
 happened to be born without any name at all." 
 
 "This is so extr'or'nary, sir," added our old hostess, more 
 interested than I could have supposed for a stranger to be- 
 come in Marble's rough bitterness, " that I should like to 
 hear how such a thing could be." 
 
 "I am quite ready to tell you all about it, mother; but 
 as one good turn deserves another, I shall ask you first to 
 answer me a few questions about the ownership of this 
 house, and cove, and orchard. When you have told your 
 story, I am ready to tell mine." 
 
 " I see how it is," said the old woman, in alarm. " You 
 are sent here by Mr. Van Tassel, to inquire about the money 
 due on the mortgage, and to learn whether it is likely to be 
 paid or not." 
 
 "We are not sent here at all, my good old lady," I now 
 thought it time to interpose, for the poor woman was very 
 obviously much alarmed, and in a distress that even her 
 aged and wrinkled countenance could not entirely conceal. 
 "We are just what you see — people belonging to that sloop, 
 who have come ashore to stretch their legs, and have never 
 heard of any Mr. Van Tassel, or any money, or any mort- 
 gage." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3J 
 
 "Thank Heaven for that!" exclaimed the old woman, 
 seeming to relieve her mind, as well as body, by a heavy 
 sigh. " 'Squire Van Tassel is a hard man ; and a widow 
 woman, with no relative at hand but a grand-darter that is 
 just sixteen, is scarce able to meet him. My poor old hus- 
 band always maintained that the money had been paid ; but, 
 now he is dead and gone, 'Squire Van Tassel brings forth 
 the bond and mortgage, and says, *If you can prove that 
 these are paid, I'm willing to give them up.' " 
 
 " This is so strange an occurrence, my dear old lady," I 
 observed, " that you have only to make us acquainted with 
 the facts, to get another supporter in addition to your 
 grand-daughter. It is true, I am a stranger, and have come 
 here purely by accident ; but Providence sometimes appears 
 to work in this mysterious manner, and I have a strong 
 presentiment we may be of use to you. Relate your diffi- 
 culties, then ; and you shall have the best legal advice in 
 the state, should your case require it." 
 
 The old woman seemed embarrassed; but, at the same 
 time, she seemed touched. We were utter strangers to her, 
 it is true ; yet there is a language in sympathy which goes 
 beyond that of the tongue, and which, coming Jrom the 
 heart, goes to the heart. I was quite sincere in my offers, 
 and this sincerity appears to have produced its customary 
 fruits. I was believed; and, after wiping away a tear or 
 two that forced themselves into her eyes, our hostess an- 
 swered me as frankly as I had offered my aid. 
 
 "You do not look like 'Squire Van Tassel's men, for 
 they seem to me to think the place is theirs already. Such 
 craving, covetous creatur's I never before laid eyes on ! I 
 hope I may trust you ? " 
 
 " Depend on us, mother," cried Marble, giving the old 
 woman a cordial squeeze of the hand. " My heart is in this 
 business, for my mind was half made up, at first sight, to 
 own this spot myself — by honest purchase, you'll under- 
 stand me, and not by any <5!f your land-shark tricks — and, 
 3 
 
34 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 such being the case, you can easily think I'm not inclined 
 to let this Mr. Tassel have it." 
 
 "It would be almost as sorrowful a thing to sell this 
 place," the good woman answered, her countenance con- 
 firming all she said in words, " as to have it torn from me 
 by knaves. I have told you that even my father was born 
 in this very house. I was his only child; and when God 
 called him away, which he did about twelve years after my 
 marriage, the little farm came to me, of course. Mine it 
 would have been at this moment, without let or hindrance 
 of any sort, but for a fault committed in early youth. Ah ! 
 my friends, it is hopeless to do evil, and expect to escape 
 the consequences." 
 
 "The evil you have done, my good mother," returned 
 Marble, endeavoring to console the poor creature, down 
 whose cheeks the tears now fairly began to run ; " the evil 
 you have done, my good mother, can be no great matter. If 
 it was a question about a rough tar like myself, or even of 
 Miles there, who's a sort of sea-saint, something might be 
 made of it, I make no doubt; but your account must be 
 pretty much all credit, and no debtor." 
 
 "That is a state that befalls none of earth, my young 
 friend " — Marble was young, compared to his companion, 
 though a lump fifty. " My sin was no less than to break 
 one of God's commandments." 
 
 I could see that my mate was a good deal confounded at 
 this ingenuous admission; for, in his eyes, breaking the 
 commandments was either killing, stealing, or blaspheming. 
 The other sins of the decalogue he had come by habit to 
 regard as peccadilloes. 
 
 "I think this must be a mistake, mother," he said, in a 
 sort of consoling tone. " You may have fallen into some 
 oversights, or mistakes; but this breaking of the command- 
 ments is rather serious sort of work." 
 
 " Yet I broke the fifth ; I forgot to honor my father and 
 mother. Nevertheless, the Lord has been gracious; for my 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 35 
 
 days have already reached three-score-and-ten. But this is 
 his goodness — not any merit of my own! " 
 
 " Is it not a proof that the error has been forgiven ? '' I 
 ventured to remark. " If penitence can purchase peace, I 
 feel certain you have earned that relief." 
 
 "One never knows! I think this calamity of the mort- 
 gage, and the danger I run of dying without a roof to cover 
 my head, may be all traced up to that one act of disobedi- 
 ence. I have been a mother myself — may say I am a mother 
 now, for my grand-daughter is as dear to me as was her 
 blessed mother — and it is when we look down^ rather than 
 when we look up^ as it might be, that we get to understand 
 the true virtue of this commandment." 
 
 " If it were impertinent curiosity that instigates the ques- 
 tion, my old friend," I added, "it would not be in my 
 power to look you in the face, as I do now, while begging 
 you to let me know your difficulties. Tell them in your 
 own manner, but tell them with confidence; for, I repeat, we 
 have the power to assist you, and can command the best 
 legal advice of the country." 
 
 Again the old woman looked at me intently through her 
 spectacles ; then, as if her mind was made up to confide in 
 our honesty, she disburdened it of its secrets. 
 
 " It would be wrong to tell you a part of my story, with- 
 out telling you all," she began, "for you might think Van 
 Tassel and his set are alone to blame, while my conscience 
 tells me that little has happened that is not a just punish- 
 ment for my great sin. You'll have patience, therefore, with 
 an old woman, and hear her whole tale; for mine is not a 
 time of life to mislead any. The days of white-heads are 
 numbered; and, was it not for Kitty, the blow would not be 
 quite so hard on me. You must know, we are Dutch by 
 origin — come of the ancient Hollanders of the colony— and 
 were Van Duzers by name. It's like, friends," added the 
 good woman, hesitating, " that ^ou are Yankees by birth ? " 
 
 " I cannot say I am," I answered, " though of English 
 
/ 
 
 36 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 extraction. My family is long of New York, but it does not] 
 mount back quite as far as the time of the Hollanders." i 
 
 "And your friend? He is silent; perhaps he is of Newj 
 England.? I would not wish to hurt his feelings, for myi 
 story will bear a little hard, perhaps, on his love of home.'*] 
 
 " Never mind me, mother, but rowse it all up like entered^ 
 cargo," said Marble, in his usual bitter way when alludingt] 
 to his own birth. " There's not the man breathing that one^ 
 can speak more freely before on such matters, than Mosea^ 
 Marble." i 
 
 "Marble! — that's a kar^ name," returned the woman^j 
 slightly smiling ; " but a name is not a Aearf. My parent* 
 were Dutch ; and you may have heard how it was before thOj 
 Revolution, between the Dutch and the Yankees. Near^ 
 neighbors, they did not love each other. The Yankees said^ 
 the Dutch were fools, and the Dutch said the Yankees werd 
 knaves. Now, as you may easily suppose, I was born before^ 
 the Revolution, when King George II. was on the throne^ 
 and ruled the country; and though it was long after thei 
 English got to be our masters, it was before our people hadi 
 forgotten their language and their traditions. My fatheri 
 himself was born after the English governors came among^ 
 us, as I've heard him say; but it mattered not — he loved^ 
 Holland to the last, and the customs of his fathers." ' 
 
 "All quite right, mother," said Marble, a little impa-^ 
 tiently ; " but what of all that ? It's as nat'ral for a Dutchman^ 
 to love Holland, as it is for an Englishman to love Hollands.^ 
 I've been in the Low Countries, and must say it's a muskrat^ 
 sort of a life the people lead ; neither afloat nor ashore." ^ 
 
 The old woman regarded Marble with more respect afterij 
 this declaration ; for, in that day, a travelled man was highly^ 
 esteemed among us. In her eyes, it was a greater exploit to^ 
 have seen Amsterdam, than it would now be to visit Jerusa-^ 
 lem. Indeed, it is getting rather discreditable to a man ofii 
 the world not to have seen the Pyramids, the Red Sea, andj 
 the Jordan. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3/ 
 
 "My father loved it not the less, though he never saw the 
 land of his ancestors," resumed the old woman. " Notwith- 
 standing the jealousy of the Yankees, among us Dutch, and 
 the mutual dislike, many of the former came among us to 
 seek their fortunes. They are not a home-staying people, it 
 would seem ; and I cannot deny that cases have happened 
 in which they have been known to get away the farms of 
 some of the Netherlands stock, in a way that it would have 
 been better not to have happened." 
 
 " You speak considerately, my dear woman," I remarked, 
 " and like one that has charity for all human failing." 
 
 " I ought to do so for my own sins, and I ought to do so 
 to them of New England ; for my own husband was of that 
 race." 
 
 " Ay, now the story is coming round regularly, Miles," 
 said Marble, nodding his head in approbation. " It will 
 touch on love next, and, if trouble do not follow, set me 
 down as an ill-nat'red old bachelor. Love in a man's heart 
 is like getting heated cotton, or shifting ballast, into a 
 ship's hold." 
 
 " I must confess to it," continued our hostess, smiling in 
 spite of her real sorrows — sorrows that were revived by 
 thus recalling the events of her early life. "A young man 
 of Yankee birth came among us as a schoolmaster, when I 
 was only fifteen. Our people were anxious enough to have 
 us all taught to read English, for many had found the dis- 
 advantage of being ignorant of the language of their rulers, 
 and of the laws. I was sent to George Wetmore's school, 
 like most of the other young people of the neighborhood, 
 and remained his scholar for three years. If you were on 
 the hill above the orchard yonder, you might see the school- 
 house at this moment; for it is only a short walk from our 
 place, and a walk that I made four times a day for just 
 three years." 
 
 "One can see how the fend lies now," cried Marble, 
 lighting a cigar, for he thought no apology necessary for 
 
38 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 smoking under a Dutch roof. " The master taught his 
 scholar something more than he found in his spelling-book, 
 or the catechism. We'll take your word about the school- 
 house, seeing it is out of view." 
 
 " It was out of sight, truly, and that may have been the 
 reason my parents took it so hard when George Wetmore 
 asked their leave to marry me. This was not done until he 
 had walked home with me, or as near home as the brow of 
 yon hill, for a whole twelvemonth, and had served a servi- 
 tude almost as long and as patient as that of Jacob for 
 Rachel." 
 
 " Well, mother, how did the old people receive the ques- 
 tion ^ like good-natured parents, I hope, for George's sake." 
 
 "Rather say like the children of Holland, judging of the 
 children of New England. They would not hear of it, but 
 wished me to marry my own cousin, Petrus Storm, who was 
 not greatly beloved, even in his own family." 
 
 " Of course you down anchor, and said you never would 
 quit the moorings of home? " 
 
 " If I rightly understand you, sir, I did something very 
 different. I got privately married to George, and he kept 
 school near a twelvemonth longer, up, behind the hill, 
 though most of the young women were taken away from his 
 teaching." 
 
 " Ay, the old way ; the door was locked after the horse 
 was stolen ! Well, you were married, mother " 
 
 " After a time, it was necessary for me to visit a kins- 
 woman who lived a little down the river. There my first 
 child was born, unknown to my parents, and George gave it 
 in charge to a poor woman who had lost her own babe, for 
 we were still afraid to let our secret be known to my parents. 
 Now commences the punishment for breaking the fifth com- 
 mandment." 
 
 "How's that. Miles?" demanded Moses. "Is it ag'in 
 the commandments for a married woman to have a son ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, my friend, though it is a breach of the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 39 
 
 commandments not to honor our parents. This good woman 
 alludes to her marrying contrary to the wishes of her father 
 and mother." 
 
 " Indeed I do, sir, and dearly have I been punished for 
 it. In a few weeks I returned home, and was followed by 
 the sad news of the death of my first-born. The grief of 
 these tidings drew the secret from me, and nature spoke so 
 loud in the hearts of my poor parents, that they forgave all, 
 took George home, and ever afterward treated him as if he 
 also had been their own child. But it was too late; had it 
 happened a few weeks earlier, my own precious babe might 
 have been saved to me." 
 
 "You cannot know that, mother; we all die when our 
 time comes." 
 
 " His time had not come. The miserable wretch to whom 
 George trusted the boy, exposed him among strangers to 
 save herself trouble, and to obtain twenty dollars at as 
 cheap a rate as possible " 
 
 " Hold ! " 1 interrupted. " In the name of Heaven, my 
 good woman, in what year did this occur.? " 
 
 Marble looked at me in astonishment, though he clearly 
 had glimpses of the object of my question. 
 
 "It was in the month of June, 17 — . For thirty long, 
 long years, I supposed my child had actually died, and then 
 the mere force of conscience told me the truth. The 
 wretched woman could not carry the secret with her into the 
 grave, and she sent for me to hear the sad revelation." 
 
 " Which was to say that she left the child in a basket on 
 a tombstone in a marble-worker's yard in the town — in the 
 yard of a man whose name was Durfee? " I said, as rapidly 
 as I could speak. 
 
 "She did, indeed! though it is a marvel to me that a 
 stranger should know this. What will be God's pleasure 
 next!" 
 
 Marble groaned. Hfe hid his face in his hands, while the 
 poor woman looked from one of us to the other, in be- 
 
40 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 wildered expectation of what was to follow. I could not 
 leave her long in doubt; but, preparing her for what was to 
 follow, by little and little I gave her to understand that the 
 man she saw before her was her son. After half a century 
 of separation, the mother and child had thus been thrown 
 together by the agency of an inscrutable Providence! The 
 reader will readily anticipate the character of the explana- 
 tions that succeeded. Of the truth of the circumstances 
 there could not be a shadow of doubt, when everything was 
 related and compared. Mrs. Wetmore had ascertained from 
 her unfaithful nurse the history of her child as far as the 
 almshouse, but thirty years had left a gap in the informa- 
 tion she had received, and it was impossible for her to ob- 
 tain the name under which he had left that institution. The 
 Revolution was just over when she made her application, 
 and it was thought that some of the books had been taken 
 away by a refugee. Still, there were a plenty of persons to 
 Supply traditions and conjectures, and so anxious were she 
 and her husband to trace these groundless reports to their 
 confirmation or refutation, that much money and time were 
 thrown away in the fruitless attempts. At length one of the 
 old attendants of the children's department was discovered, 
 who professed to know the whole history of the child 
 brought from the stonecutter's yard. This woman doubtless 
 was honest, but her memory had deceived her. She said 
 that the boy had been called Stone, instead of Marble, a 
 mistake that was natural enough in itself, but which was 
 probably owing to the fact that another child of the first 
 name had really left the institution a few months before 
 Moses took his leave. This Aaron Stone had been traced, 
 first, as an apprentice to a tradesman, thence into a regi- 
 ment of foot in the British army, which regiment had ac- 
 companied the rest of the forces at the evacuation, Novem- 
 ber 25th, 1783. 
 
 The VVetmores fancied they were now on the track of 
 their child. He was traced down to a period within a 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4 1 
 
 twelvemonth of that of the search, and was probably to be 
 found in England, still wearing the livery of the king. After 
 a long consultation between the disconsolate parents, it was 
 determined that George Wetmore should sail for England 
 in the hope of recovering their son. But, by this time money 
 was scarce. These worthy people were enabled to live in 
 comfort on their little farm, but they were not rich in cash. 
 All the loose coin was gone in the previous search, and even 
 a small debt had been contracted to enable them to proceed 
 as far as they had. No alternative remained but to mort- 
 gage their home. This was done with great reluctance; but 
 what will not a parent do for his child? A country lawyer, 
 of the name of Van Tassel, was ready enough to advance 
 five hundred on a place that was worth quite three thousand 
 dollars. This man was one of the odious class of country 
 usurers, a set of cormorants that are so much worse than 
 their town counterparts, because their victims are usually 
 objects of real, and not speculative distress, and as ignorant 
 and unpractised as they are necessitous. It is wonderful 
 with what far-sighted patience one of these wretches will 
 bide his time, in order to effect a favorite acquisition. Mrs. 
 Wetmore's little farm was very desirable to this Squire Van 
 Tassel, for reasons in addition to its intrinsic value; and 
 for years nothing could be kinder and more neighborly than 
 his indulgence. Interest was allowed to accumulate, until 
 the whole debt amounted to the sum of a thousand dollars. 
 In the meantime the father went to England, found the sol- 
 dier after much trouble and expense, ascertained that Stone 
 knew his parents, one of whom had died in the almshouse, 
 and spent all his money. 
 
 Years of debt and anxiety succeeded, until the father 
 sunk under his misfortunes. An only daughter also died, 
 leaving Kitty a legacy to her widowed mother, the other 
 parent having died even before her birth. Thus was Kath- 
 arine Van Duzer, our old hostess, left to struggle on nearly 
 alone, at the decline of life, with a poverty that was daily 
 
42 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 increasing, years, and this infant grand-daughter. Just be* 
 fore his death, however, George Wetmore had succeeded in 
 selling a portion of his farm, that which was least valuable 
 to himself, and with the money he paid off Van Tassel's 
 mortgage. This was his own account of the matter, and he 
 showed to his wife Van Tassel's receipt, the money having 
 been paid at the county town, where the bond and mortgage 
 could not be then produced. This was shortly before Wet- 
 mores' last illness. A twelvemonth after his death, the 
 widow was advised to demand the bond, and to take the 
 mortgage off record. But the receipt was not to be found. 
 With a woman's ignorance of such matters, the widow let 
 this fact leak out; and her subsequent demand for the re- 
 lease was met with a counter one for evidence of payment. 
 This was the commencement of Van Tassel's hostile atti- 
 tude; and things had gone as far as a foreclosure, and an 
 advertisement for a sale, when the good woman thus oppor- 
 tunely discovered her son ! 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I charge you by the law, 
 Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, 
 Proceed to judgment ; by my soul I swear 
 There is no power in the tongue of man 
 To alter me ; I stay here on my bond. 
 
 Shylock. 
 
 It is not easy to describe the immediate effect of this dis- 
 covery on either of the parties most concerned. Not a doubt 
 remained on the mind of either, after the facts were ex- 
 plained, of the reality of the relationship; for that was so 
 simply proved, as to place the circumstance beyond all dis- 
 pute. Mrs. Wetmore thought of her lost son as of an inno- 
 cent, smiling babe; and here she found him a red-faced, 
 hard-featured, weather-beaten tar, already verging towards 
 age, and a man of manners that were rough, if not rude. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 43 
 
 She could not at first possess any knowledge of the better 
 points in his character, and was compelled to receive this 
 boon from Providence as it was offered. Nevertheless, a 
 mother's love is not easily dissatisfied or smothered ; and 
 ere I left the house, I could see the old woman's eyes fixed 
 on Marble with an expression of interest and tenderness 
 they had not manifested previously to the revelations. 
 
 As for the mate himself, now that the fondest wish of his 
 life was so unexpectedly gratified, he was taken so much by 
 surprise that he appeared to think something was wanting. 
 He found his mother the reputable widow of a reputable 
 man, of a class in life quite equal to his own, living on a 
 property that was small, certainly, and involved, but prop- 
 erty that had been long in her family. The truth was, Mar- 
 ble felt so much at this unlooked-for appeal to his gentler 
 feelings, that one of his stern nature did not know how to an- 
 swer it on the emergency ; and the obstinacy of his tempera- 
 ment rather induced him to resist, than to yield to such un- 
 wonted sentiments. I could see he was satisfied with his 
 mother, while he was scarcely satisfied with himself; and, 
 with a view to place both parties in truer positions, I desired 
 Moses to walk down and look at the boat, while I remained 
 alone with his new-found parent. This was not done, how- 
 ever, until all the explanations had been made, and the 
 mother had both blessed and wept over her child. It was 
 done, indeed, principally to relieve Marble from the oppres- 
 sion of feeling created by this very scene. 
 
 As soon as alone with Mrs. Wetmore, I explained to her 
 my own connection with Marble, and gave her a sort of 
 apologetic account of his life and character, keeping down 
 the weak points, and dwelling on the strong. I set her 
 mind at ease, at once, on the subject of the farm; for, 
 should the worst happen, her son had double the amount of 
 money that would be necessary to discharge the mortgage. 
 
 " The debt was incur»ed, my dear Mrs. Wetmore, in his 
 behalf; and he will be happy to discharge it on the spot. I 
 
44 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 would advise you to pay the money at once. Should the re- 
 ceipt ever be found, this Van Tassel will be obliged to re- 
 fund; for though the law winks at many wrongs, it will not 
 wink at one so atrocious as this, provided you can satisfy it 
 with proof. I shall leave Moses " 
 
 "His name is Oloff, or Oliver," interrupted the old wom- 
 an, eagerly; "I named him after my own father, and had 
 him duly christened, before he was entrusted to the nurse, 
 in the hope it might soften his grandfather's heart, when he 
 came to know of my marriage. Oloff Van Duzer Wetmore 
 is his real name." 
 
 I smiled to think of Marble's sailing under such an ap- 
 pellation, and was about to suggest a compromise, when the 
 subject of our discourse returned. The mate had regained 
 his composure during the half hour he had been absent; 
 and I saw by the kind glance he threw on his mother, whose 
 look answered his own more naturally than I could have 
 hoped, that things were getting right; and, by way of re- 
 moving the awkwardness of excessive sensibility, I pursued 
 the discourse. 
 
 " We were talking of your true name, Moses, as you came 
 in," I said. "It will never do for you to hail by one name, 
 while your mother hails by another. You'll have to cut 
 adrift from Moses Marble altogether." 
 
 "If I do, may I be " 
 
 " Hush, hush — you forget where you are, and in whose 
 presence you stand." 
 
 " I hope my son will soon learn that he is always in the 
 presence of his God," observed the mother, plaintively. 
 
 " Ay, ay — that's all right, mother, and you shall do with 
 me just what you please in any of them matters; but as for 
 not being Moses Marble, you might as well ask me not to 
 be myself. I should be another man, to change my name. 
 A fellow might as well go without clothes, as go without a 
 name; and mine came so hard, I don't like to part with it. 
 No, no — had it come to pass, now, that my parents had been 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 45 
 
 a king and a queen, and that I was to succeed 'em on the 
 throne, I should reign as King Moses Marble, or not reign 
 at all." 
 
 " You'll think better of this, and take out a new register 
 under your lawful designation." 
 
 " I'll tell you what I'll do, mother, and that will satisfy 
 all parties. I'll bend on the old name to the new one, and 
 sail under both." 
 
 " I care not how you are called, my son, so long as no 
 one has need to blush for the name you bear. This gentle- 
 man tells me you are an honest and true-hearted man; and 
 those are blessings for which I shall never cease to thank 
 God." 
 
 "Miles has been singing my praises, has he! I can tell 
 you, mother, you had need look out for Miles's tongue. 
 Natur' intended him for a lawyer, and it's mere accident his 
 being a sailor, though a capital one he is. But what may be 
 my name, according to law? " 
 
 " Oloff Van Duzer Wetmore Moses Marble, according to 
 your own expedient of sailing under all your titles. You 
 can ring the changes, however, and call yourself Moses 
 Oloff Marble Van Duzer Wetmore, if you like that better." 
 
 Moses laughed, and as I saw that both he and his new- 
 found mother were in a fit state to be left together, and that 
 the sun now wanted but an hour or two of setting, I rose to 
 take my leave. 
 
 "You will remain with your mother to-night. Marble," I 
 observed. " I will keep the sloop at an anchor until I can 
 see you in the morning, when we will settle the future a 
 little more deliberately." 
 
 " I should not like to lose my son so soon after finding 
 him," the old woman anxiously remarked. 
 
 " No fear of me, mother — I berth under your roof to- 
 night, and so many more in the bargain, that you'll be glad 
 enough to be rid of me«in the end." 
 
 I then left the house, followed by Marble, towards the 
 
46 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 boat. As we reached the little piece of bottom-land, I heard 
 a sort of suppressed sob from the mate, and, turning round, 
 was surprised to see the tears running down his sun-burned 
 cheeks. His wrought-up feelings had at last obtained the 
 mastery ; and this rude, but honest creature, had fairly given 
 in, under the excitement of this strange admixture of joy, 
 wonder, shame, and natural emotion. I took his hand, gave 
 it a hearty squeeze, but said nothing ; though I stopped, un- 
 willing to go nearer to Neb until my companion had re- 
 gained his composure. This he did, sufficiently to speak, in 
 the course of a minute or two. 
 
 " It's all like a dream to me, Miles," Moses at length mut- 
 tered — " more out of natur' like, than setting up for a hermit." 
 
 " You'll soon get accustomed to the change, Marble ; then 
 everything will seem in the ordinary way, and natural." 
 
 " To think of my being a son, and having a real, living 
 mother!" 
 
 " You must have known that you had parents once, though 
 you are fortunate in finding one of them alive at your time 
 of life." 
 
 " And she an honest woman ! A mother the President of 
 the United States, or the first commodore in the navy, 
 needn't be ashamed of ! " 
 
 "All that is fortunate, certainly; especially the first." 
 
 " She's a bloody good-looking old woman in the bargain. 
 I'll have her dressed up and carry her down to town, the 
 first opportunity." 
 
 "What would you give an old woman that trouble for? 
 You'll think better of these matters, in the long run." 
 
 " Better! Yes, I'll take her to Philadelphia, and perhaps 
 to Baltimore. There's the gardens, and the theatres, and 
 the museums, and lots of things that I dare say the dear old 
 soul never laid eyes on." 
 
 " I'm mistaken in your mother, if she would not prefer a 
 church to all of them put together." 
 
 " Well, there's churches in all of them towns. Put it on 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 47 
 
 a religious footing, if you will, and I ought to take my 
 mother as soon as possible down to York. She's old, you 
 see, and cannot live forever, just to oblige me; and here 
 has she been tied down to one church all her days, giving 
 her no ch'ice nor opportunity. I dare say, now, variety is 
 just as agreeable in religion, as in anything else." 
 
 "You are nearer right there, Moses, than you think your- 
 self, possibly. But we can talk of all these things to-mor- 
 row. A good night's rest will give us cooler heads in the 
 morning." 
 
 " I shall not sleep a wink for thinking of it. No, no — I'll 
 make the old lady pack up before breakfast, and we'll sail 
 in the sloop. I'll take her aboard the Dawn with me in 
 town, and a comfortable time we'll have of it in her cabins. 
 She has as good state-rooms as a yacht." 
 
 There were no liners in those days; but a ship with two 
 cabins was a miracle of convenience. 
 
 "Your mother will hardly suit a ship, Moses; and a ship 
 will hardly suit your mother." 
 
 " How can any of us know that till we try? If I'm a chip 
 of the old block, they'll take to each other like rum and 
 water. If I'm to go out in the ship, I'm far from certain 
 I'll not take the old woman to sea with me." 
 
 " You'll probably remain at home, now that you have a 
 home, and a mother, and other duties to attend to. I and 
 my concerns will be but secondary objects with you here- 
 after, Mr. Wetmore." 
 
 " Wetmore be d — d! D'ye mean. Miles, that I'm to give 
 up my calling, give up the sea, give up youV^ 
 
 " You wished to be a hermit once, and found it a little 
 too solitary; had you a companion or two, you would have 
 been satisfied, you said. Well, here is everything you can 
 wish; a mother, a niece, a house, a farm, barns, out-houses, 
 garden and orchard; and, seated on that porch, you can 
 smoke cigars, take yoitr grog, look at the craft going up and 
 down the Hudson " 
 
48 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Nothing but so many bloody sloops," growled the mate. 
 " Such in-and-in fore-and-afters that their booms won't stay 
 guyed out, even after you've been at the pains to use a 
 hawser." 
 
 " Well, a sloop is a pleasant object to a sailor, when he 
 can get nothing better. Then there is this Mr. Van Tassel 
 to settle with — you may have a ten-years' lawsuit on your 
 hands, to amuse you." 
 
 " I'll make short work with that scamp, when I fall in 
 with him. You're right enough. Miles; that affair must be 
 settled before I can lift an anchor. My mother tells me he 
 lives hard by, and can be seen, at any moment, in a quarter 
 of an hour. I'll pay him a visit this very night." 
 
 This declaration caused me to pause. I knew Marble too 
 well, not to foresee trouble if he were left to himself in a 
 matter of this nature, and thought it might be well to in- 
 quire further into the affair. Sailors do everything off-hand. 
 Mrs. Wetmore telling me that her son's statement was true, 
 on my going back to the house to question her in the mat- 
 ter, and offering us the use of an old-fashioned one-horse 
 chaise, that the only farm-laborer she employed was just 
 then getting ready to go in, in quest of Kitty, I availed my- 
 self of the opportunity, took the printed advertisement of 
 the sale to read as we went along, obtained our directions, 
 and off Marble and I went in quest of the usurer. 
 
 There would be sufficient time for all our purposes. It is 
 true that the horse, like the house, its owner, the laborer, 
 the chaise, and all we had yet seen about Willow Cove, as 
 we had learned the place was called, was old; but he was 
 more safe and sure. The road led up the ascent by a ra- 
 vine, through which it wound its way very prettily; the 
 laborer walking by our side to point out the route, after 
 we should reach the elevation of the country that stretched 
 inland. 
 
 The view from the height, as it might be termed in refer- 
 ence to the river, though it was merely on the level of the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 49 
 
 whole region in that portion of the state, was both extensive 
 and pretty. Willow Grove, as Marble called his mother's 
 place three or four times, while our horse was working his 
 way up the ascent, looked more inviting than ever, with 
 its verdant declivities, rich orchards, neat cottage, all en- 
 sconced behind the sheltering cover of the river heights. 
 Inland, we saw a hundred farms, groves without number, 
 divers roads, a hamlet within a mile of us, an old-fashioned 
 extinguisher-looking church-spire, and various houses of 
 wood painted white, with here and there a piece of rustic 
 antiquity in bricks, or stone, washed with lime, or some 
 livelier paint; for the Dutch of New York had brought the 
 habits of Holland with them, delighting in colors. This 
 relief may be desirable in a part of the world where the 
 eternal green of the meadows in a manner fatigues the eye; 
 but certainly the gray of nature has no just competitor in 
 the tints of the more artificial portions of the ordinary land- 
 scape. White may make a scene look gay; but it can never 
 lend it dignity, or the solemn hues that so often render the 
 loveliness of a vie^y impressive, as well as sweet. When 
 this glaring color reaches the fences, it gives the prettiest 
 landscape the air of a bleaching yard, or of a great laundry, 
 with the clothes hung out to dry ! 
 
 The guide pointed out to us the house of Van Tassel, and 
 another at which we should find Kitty, who was to be 
 brought home by us on our return. Understanding the 
 course and distance, we put to sea without any misgivings. 
 The horse was no flyer, and Marble and I had plenty of 
 leisure to arrange preliminaries before reaching the door to 
 which we were bound. After some consultation, and a good 
 deal of discussion, I succeeded in persuading my companion 
 it would not be wisest to break ground by flogging the attor- 
 ney — a procedure to which he was strongly inclined. It was 
 settled, however, he was at once to declare himself to be Mrs. 
 Wetmore's son, and toldemand his explanations in that charac- 
 ter; one that would clearly give him every claim to be heard. 
 4 
 
50 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "I know what these usurers, as you call 'em, Miles, must 
 be," said the mate. "They are a sort of in-shore pawn- 
 brokers ; and the Lord have mercy on them, for I'll have 
 none. I've had occasion to pawn a watch or a quadrant, in 
 my time; and bloody poor prices does a fellow get for his 
 goods and chattels. Yes, yes; I'll let the old gentleman 
 know, at once, I'm Van Duzer Oloff Marble Wetmore Moses, 
 or whatever's my name; and will stand up for the right in 
 a fashion that will surprise him; but what are you to do in 
 the meantime? '^ 
 
 It struck me, if I could get Marble to attempt practising 
 a sort of ruse^ it would have the effect to prevent his resort- 
 ing to club-law, towards which I knew he had a strong nat- 
 ural disposition, and of which I was still a little afraid. 
 With this object, then, I conceived the following scheme. 
 
 " You shall simply introduce me as Mr. Miles Walling- 
 ford," I said, " but in a formal manner, that may induce 
 this Mr. Van Tassel to imagine I'm a sort of lawyer; and 
 this may have the effect to awe him, and bring him to terms 
 the easier. Do not say I am a lawyer, for that will not be 
 true, and it will also be awkward falling back when the 
 truth comes to be known." 
 
 Marble took the idea, and seemed pleased with it, though 
 he affirmed that there could be no such thing as acting law- 
 yer without lying a little, and that "the truth was too good 
 for one of your bloody usurers." I got him trained, how- 
 ever, by the time we reached the door; and we alighted as 
 well prepared for our task as could be expected. 
 
 There was nothing about the residence of 'Squire Van 
 Tassel to denote the grasping money-dealer, unless a certain 
 negligence of the exterior might be supposed to betray the 
 abode of such a man. His friends wished to ascribe this to 
 an indifference to appearance; but the multitude more accu- 
 rately imputed it to parsimony. When the very soul gets to 
 be absorbed in the process of rolling gold over and over, in 
 order to make it accumulate, the spirit grudges the with- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 5 1 
 
 drawal of the smallest fraction from the gainful pursuit; 
 and here lies the secret of the disdain of appearances that 
 is so generally to be met with in this description of persons. 
 Beyond this air of negligence, however, the dwelling of 
 Van Tassel was not to be distinguished from those of most 
 of the better houses of that part of the country. Our appli- 
 cation for admission was favorably received, and, in a min- 
 ute, we were shown into the attorney's office. 
 
 'Squire Van Tassel, as this man was universally termed, 
 eyed us keenly as we entered, no doubt with a view to 
 ascertain if we were borrowers. I might possibly have 
 passed for one of that character, for I aimed at looking seri- 
 ous and thoughtful ; but I would defy any man to mistake 
 Moses for one who came on such an errand. He looked 
 more like a messenger sent by the Father of Sin, to demand 
 the payment of a certain bond that had been signed in 
 blood, and of which the fatal pay-day had at length arrived. 
 I had to give the skirt of his coat a pull, in order to recall 
 him to our agreement, else I do think the first saluation re- 
 ceived by the attorney, would have been a broadside in any- 
 thing but words. The hint succeeded, and Marble permitted 
 our host to open the communications. 
 
 'Squire Van Tassel had a very miserly exterior. He even 
 looked ill fed; though doubtless this appearance was more 
 a consequence of habit of body, than of short-feeding. He 
 wore spectacles with black rims, and had the common prac- 
 tice of looking over them at objects at a distance, which 
 gave him an air still more watchful than that which he im- 
 bibed from character. His stature was small, and his years 
 about sixty, an age when the accumulation of money begins 
 to bring as much pain as pleasure; for it is a period of life 
 when men cannot fail to see the termination of their earthly 
 schemes. Of all the passions, however, avarice is notoriously 
 that which the latest loosens its hold on the human heart. 
 
 " Your servant, gentlemen," commenced the attorney, in 
 a manner that was civil enough; "your servant; I beg you 
 
52 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 to help yourselves to chairs." We all three took seats, at 
 this invitation. "A pleasant evening," eying us still more 
 keenly over his glasses, " and weather that is good for the 
 crops. If the wars continue much longer in Europe," an- 
 other look over the glasses, " we shall sell all the substance 
 out of our lands, in order to send the belligerents wheat. I 
 begin to look on real estate security as considerably less 
 valuable than it was, when hostilities commenced in 1793, 
 and as daily growing less and less so." 
 
 " Ay, you may say that," Marble bluntly answered; " par- 
 ticularly the farms of widows and orphans." 
 
 The "'Squire" was a little startled at this unexpected re- 
 ply. He looked intently at each of us again, over the spec- 
 tacles; and then asked, in a manner divided between cour- 
 tesy and authority — 
 
 " May I inquire your names, and the object of this visit? " 
 
 " Sartain," said Marble. " That's reasonable and your 
 right. We are not ashamed of our names, nor of our errand. 
 As for the last, Mr. Van Tassel, you'll know it sooner than 
 you will wish to know it; but, to begin at the right end, 
 this gentleman with me is Mr. Miles Wallingford, a par- 
 tic'lar friend of old Mrs. Wetmore, who lives a bit down 
 the road yonder, at a farm called Willow Grove; 'Squire 
 Wallingford, sir, is her friend, and my friend, and I've great 
 pleasure in making you acquainted with him." 
 
 "I am happy to see the gentleman," answered Van 
 Tassel, taking another look, while at the same time he 
 glanced his eye at an alphabetical list of the attorneys and 
 counsellors to see what place I occupied among them. 
 " Very happy to see the gentleman, who has quite lately com- 
 menced practice, I should think, by his age, and my not re- 
 membering the name." 
 
 "There must be a beginning to all things, Mr. Van 
 Tassel," I replied, with a calmness that I could see the old 
 usurer did not like. 
 
 " Very true, sir, and I hope your future success will be in 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 53 
 
 proportion to the lateness of your appearance at the bar. 
 Your companion has much more the air of a sailor than of 
 a lawyer." This was true enough, there being no mistaking 
 Marble's character, though I had put on a body-coat to 
 come ashore in. " I presume he is not in the practice." 
 
 " That remains to be seen, sir," answered Marble. " Hav- 
 ing told you my friend's name, Mr. Van Tassel, I will now 
 tell you my own. I am called Moses Marble Wetmore Van 
 Duzer Oloff, sir, or some such bloody thing; and you're 
 welcome to take your pick out of the whole list. I'll answer 
 to either of them aliases." 
 
 " This is so extraordinary and unusual, gentlemen, I scarce 
 know what to make of it. Has this visit any connection 
 with Mrs. Wetmore, or her farm, or the mortgage I have 
 been foreclosing on the last? " 
 
 " It has, sir ; and I am that Mrs. Wetmore's son — yes, 
 sir, the only child of that dear, good, old soul." 
 
 "The son of Mrs. Wetmore!" exclaimed Van Tassel, 
 both surprised and uneasy. " I knew there was a son ; but I 
 have been always told it was impossible to find him. I see 
 no resemblance, sir, in you, to either George Wetmore or 
 Kitty Van Duzer." 
 
 Now this was not altogether true. As for George Wet- 
 more, they who had known him in middle age, afterward 
 declared that Moses did resemble him greatly; while I, 
 myself, could trace in the mouth and milder expression of 
 the mate's features, a strong likeness to the subdued char- 
 acter of his aged mother's face. This resemblance would 
 not have been observed, in all probability, without a knowl- 
 edge of the affinity that existed between the parties; but, 
 with that knowledge, it was not easy to overlook. 
 
 " Resemblance ! " repeated Marble, much in the tone of 
 one who is ready to quarrel on the slightest provocation; 
 " how should there be any resemblance after the life I've 
 led? In the first jplace I was carried out of my mother's 
 sight in less than ten days after I was born. Then I was 
 
54 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 placed on a tombstone, by way of encouragement; after 
 which they sent me to live among paupers. I ran away at 
 ten years old, and went to sea, where I've played the part of 
 a man-of-war's-man, privateer's-man, smuggler, mate, master, 
 and all hands; everything, in short, but a pirate and muti- 
 neer. I've been a bloody hermit, Mr. Van Tassel, and if 
 that won't take the resemblance to anything human out of a 
 fellow, his face is as unchangeable as that on a gold coin." 
 
 "All this, Mr. Wallingford, is so unintelligible to me, 
 that I shall have to ask you to explain it." 
 
 " I can only add to it, sir, my belief that every word you 
 hear is true. I am satisfied that this is, in a legal sense, 
 Oloff Van Duzer Wetmore, the only surviving child of 
 George Wetmore and Katharine Van Duzer. He has come 
 to see you in relation to a claim you are said to hold against 
 the farm his mother inherited from her parents." 
 
 "Said to hold! — I certainly do hold George Wetmore's 
 bond, secured by a mortgage signed by his wife, balance 
 due, including interest and costs, $963.42 ; and am pro- 
 ceeding to sell, under the statute. One sale has been post- 
 poned to oblige the widow, for a merciful man would not 
 wish to press a single and aged woman, though I've lain 
 out of my money a very long time. You are aware, sir, that 
 I lose all my interest on interest, and must take up with 
 just what the law will give — hardship enough in active 
 times like these, when not a day passes that something good 
 does not offer in the way of purchasing the best of securi- 
 ties, at liberal discounts. Trade is so lively now, Mr. Wal- 
 lingford, that men will almost sell their souls for money." 
 
 " I rather think, sir, that some men will do this at all 
 times, nay, do it hourly, daily. But I am instructed " — I 
 could not help acting the counsel a little on the occasion — 
 " I am instructed that the bond of George Wetmore is paid 
 in full." 
 
 " How can that be, sir, while I still hold bond and mort- 
 gage? As a business man, you must understand the value 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 55 
 
 to be attached to the idle tales of women, and can see the 
 danger of taking their gossip for authority. George Wet- 
 more had some knowledge of business, and would not be 
 likely to pay his bond without taking it up, or at least of 
 obtaining a receipt, much less leave the mortgage on record." 
 
 " I am informed he did take your receipt, though he pre- 
 sumes he must have lost it with a missing pocket-book, 
 which his widow supposes to have dropped from his coat 
 the very day he returned from the court where he met you, 
 and where he says he paid you the money, being anxious to 
 stop interest as soon as possible." 
 
 "A very idle story, and one you do not suppose the 
 chancellor will believe, confirmed by the hearsay of the 
 party interested in preserving the property. You are aware, 
 sir, that the sale can be stopped only by an injunction from 
 the Court of Chancery." 
 
 Now I was certainly no lawyer, but like almost every 
 American, I knew something of that branch of the jurispru- 
 dence of the country, which touched my own interests. As a 
 landholder, I had a little knowledge of the law of real 
 estate, and was not absolutely ignorant of the manner in 
 which matters were managed in that most searching of all 
 tribunals, the Court of Chancery. A lucky thought sug- 
 gested itself to my mind on the instant, and I made use of 
 it on the spur of the moment. 
 
 "It is quite true, sir," I answered, "that any prudent 
 judge might hesitate about entering a decree on authority 
 no better than the oath of Mrs. Wetmore that she had heard 
 her husband say he had paid the money, but you will re- 
 member that the party replying has to swear to his answer. 
 All of us might be better satisfied in this affair, were you to 
 make oath that the money was never paid." 
 
 This hit told, and from that moment I did not entertain 
 a doubt that Wetmore had paid the money, and that Van 
 Tassel retained a pei^ect recollection of the whole affair. 
 This much I could read in the man's altered countenance 
 
$6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 and averted eye, though my impressions certainly were not 
 proof. If not proof, however, for a court of justice, they 
 served to enlist me earnestly in the pursuit of the affair, 
 into which I entered warmly from that moment. In the 
 meantime I waited for Van Tassel's answer, watching his 
 countenance the whole time, with a vigilance that I could 
 easily see caused him great embarrassment. 
 
 " Kitty Wetmore and I were born neighbors' children," 
 he said, "and this mortgage has given me more trouble 
 than all the rest of my little possessions. That I have been 
 in no hurry to foreclose is plain by the length of time I've 
 suffered to go by without claiming my dues. I could wait 
 no longer without endangering my rights, as there would be 
 a presumption of payment after twenty years, and a pre- 
 sumption that would tell harder against me than old Kitty's 
 oath. We are neighbors' children, as I've said, nevertheless, 
 and rather than push matters to extremities I will consent 
 to some sort of a compromise." 
 
 "And what sort of a compromise will be agreeable to 
 your notions of justice, Mr. Van Tassel? " 
 
 " Why, sir, as Kitty is old, it would be a sad thing to 
 drive her from the roof under which she was born. This 
 I've said and thought from the first, and say, now. Still, I 
 cannot part with my property without a compensation; 
 though I'm willing to wait. I told Mrs. Wetmore, before 
 advertising, that if she would give a new bond, making all 
 clear, and giving me interest on the whole sum now due, I 
 should be willing to grant her time. I now propose, how- 
 ever, as the simplest way of settling the affair, to accept 
 from her a release of the equity of redemption, and to grant 
 her a lease, for her own life, on a nominal rent." 
 
 Even Marble knew enough to see the rank injustice of 
 such an offer. In addition to conceding the non-payment of 
 the debt, it was securing to Van Tassel, at no distant day, 
 the quiet possession of the farm, for somewhat less than 
 one-third its value. I detected symptoms of an outbreak in 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 57 
 
 the mate, and was obliged to repress it by a sign, while I 
 kept the discussion in my own hands. 
 
 "Under such an arrangement, sir," I answered, " my 
 friend here would be literally selling his birthright for a 
 mess of porridge." 
 
 " You will remember, Mr. Wallingford, that a mortgage 
 sale, legally made, is a ticklish thing, and the courts do 
 not like to disturb one. This sale will take place this day 
 week; and the title once pasesd, it will not be so easy a 
 matter to get it repassed. Mr. Wetmore, here, does not look 
 like a man ready to pay down a thousand dollars." 
 
 " We shall not run the risk of letting the title pass. I will 
 buy the property, myself, if necessary; and should it after- 
 ward appear that the money has been actually paid, we believe 
 you are sufficiently secure for principal, interest, and costs." 
 
 "You are young in the profession, Mr. Wallingford, and 
 will come to learn the folly of advancing money for your 
 clients." 
 
 " I am not in the profession at all, sir, as you have er- 
 roneously supposed, but am a shipmaster; and Mr. Wet- 
 more, or Marble, as he has hitherto been called, is my mate. 
 Still, we are none the worse provided with the means of 
 paying a thousand dollars — or twenty of them, should it be 
 necessary." 
 
 "No lawyer!" cried Van Tassel, smiling grimly. "A 
 couple of sailors about to dispute the foreclosure of a mort- 
 gage ! Famous justice we should get at your hands, gentle- 
 men! Well, well; I now see how it is, and that this has 
 only been an attempt to work on my sympathies for an old 
 woman who has been living on my money these twenty 
 years. I rather think your $963.42 will prove to be of the 
 same quality as your law." 
 
 " And, yet, it struck me, Mr. Van Tassel, that you rather 
 disliked the idea of swearing to the truth of an answer to a 
 certain bill in chancety, which, if I cannot draw, one Abra- 
 ham Van Vechten, of Albany, can ! " 
 
58 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Abraham Van Vechten is skilful counsel, and an honest 
 man, and is not likely to be employed in a cause that rests 
 only on an old woman's hearsays — and all to save her own 
 farm!" 
 
 Marble could keep silence no longer. He told me after- 
 ward, that, during the dialogue, he had been taking the 
 measure of the old usurer's foot, and felt it would be a dis- 
 grace to strike so feeble a creature; but, to sit and hear his 
 newly found mother sneered at, and her just rights derided, 
 was more than his patience could endure. Rising abruptly, 
 therefore, he broke out at once in one of the plainest philip- 
 pics of the sea. I shall not repeat all he said; for, to ren- 
 der it justly, might be to render it offensive ; but, in addi- 
 tion to calling old Van Tassel by a great many names that 
 were as unusual as they were quaint, he called him by sev- 
 eral that would be familiar to the ears of most of my read- 
 ers, besides being perfectly well merited. I allowed his 
 humor to find vent; and, giving the attorney to understand 
 he should hear further from us, I succeeded in getting my 
 companion to the wagon, without coming to blows. I could 
 see that Van Tassel was very far from being at his ease, and 
 that he would still gladly keep us, if he could, in the hope 
 of bringing about some sort of a compromise, if possible; 
 but I thought it wisest to let matters rest a while, after the 
 decided demonstration we had already made. 
 
 It was not an easy matter to get Marble into the vehicle; 
 but this was no sooner effected, than I trotted him off, 
 down the road, taking the direction of the house where we 
 had been told to seek Kitty Huguenin, old Mrs. Wetmore's 
 grand-daughter, who would be waiting the appearance of the 
 chaise, in order to return home. 
 
 " You must put on a more amicable look,'' said I to the 
 mate, as we went on our way, "or you'll frighten your niece; 
 with whom, you will remember, you are about to make an 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " The cheating vagabond, to take advantage of a poor, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 59 
 
 lonely old woman, whose only husband was in the grave, 
 and only son at sea ! " the mate continued to mutter. " Talk 
 about the commandments! I should like to know what com- 
 mandment this waF breaking. The whole six, in a batch." 
 
 "The tenth, I am inclined to think, my friend; and that 
 is a commandment broken all day, and every day." 
 
 The denunciations of the mate continued for some time 
 longer, and then went off like the rumbling of distant thun- 
 der in the heavens after the passage of the gust. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 No Moorish maid might hope to vie 
 With Laila's cheek, or Laila's eye ; 
 No maiden loved with purer truth, 
 Or ever loved a lovelier youth. 
 
 SOUTHBY. 
 
 "Miles," said Moses, suddenly, after riding a short dis- 
 tance in silence, " I must quit the old lady, this very night, 
 and go down with you to town. We must have that money 
 up at the place of sale, in readiness for the vagabond; for, 
 as to letting him have the smallest chance at Willow Grove, 
 that is out of the question." 
 
 " As you please. Marble ; but, now, get yourself in trim 
 to meet another relation ; the second you have laid eyes on, 
 in this world." 
 
 "Think of that. Miles! Think of my having two rela- 
 tions! A mother and a niece! Well, it is a true saying, 
 that it never rains but it pours." 
 
 "You probably have many more, uncles, aunts, and 
 cousins in scores. The Dutch are famous for counting 
 cousins; and no doubt you'll have calls on you from half 
 the county." 
 
 I saw that Marble was perplexed, and did not know, at 
 first, but he was getting to be embarrassed by this affluence 
 of kindred. The mate, however, was not the man long to 
 
60 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 conceal his thoughts from me; and in the strength of his 
 feelings he soon let his trouble be known. 
 
 " I say, Miles," he rejoined, " a fellow may be bothered 
 with felicity, I find. Now, here, in ten minutes perhaps, I 
 shall have to meet my sister's dartar — my own, born, blood 
 niece; a full-grown, and I dare say, a comely young woman ; 
 and hang me if I know exactly what a man ought to say in 
 such a state of the facts. Generalizing won't do with these 
 near relations; and I suppose a sister's dartar is pretty 
 much the same to a chap as his own dartar would be, pro- 
 vided he had one." 
 
 " Exactly ; had you reasoned a month, you could not have 
 hit upon a better solution of the difficulty than this. Treat 
 this Kitty Huguenin just as you would treat Kitty Marble." 
 
 "Ay, ay: all this is easy enough aforehand, and to such 
 scholars as you; but it comes hard on a fellow like myself 
 to heave his idees out of him, as it might be, with a wind- 
 lass. I managed the old woman right well, and could get 
 along with a dozen mothers, better than with one sister's 
 dartar. Suppose she should turn out a girl with black eyes, 
 and red cheeks, and all that sort of thing; I dare say she 
 would expect me to kiss her? " 
 
 "Certainly; she will expect that, should her eyes even be 
 white, and her cheeks black. Natural affection expects this 
 much even among the least enlightened of the human race." 
 
 " I am disposed to do everything according to usage," re- 
 turned Marble, quite innocently, and more discomposed by 
 the situation in which he so unexpectedly found himself, 
 than he might have been willing to own; "while, at the 
 same time, I do not wish to do anything that is not expected 
 from a son and an uncle. If these relations had only come 
 one at a time." 
 
 " Poh, poh, Moses— do not be quarrelling with your good 
 luck, just as it's at its height. Here is the house, and I'll 
 engage one of those four girls is your niece — that with the 
 bonnet, for a dollar; she being ready to go home, and the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 6l 
 
 whole having come to the door, in consequence of seeing 
 the chaise driving down the road. They are puzzled at find- 
 ing us in it, however, instead of the usual driver." 
 
 Marble hemmed, attempted to clear his Ihroat, pulled 
 down both sleeves of his jacket, settled his black handker- 
 chief to his mind, slyly got rid of his quid, and otherwise 
 "cleared ship for action," as he would have been very apt 
 to describe his own preparations. After all, his heart failed 
 him at the pinch; and just as I was pulling up the horse, 
 he said to me, in a voice so small and delicate that it 
 sounded odd to one who had heard the man's thunder, as he 
 hailed yards and tops in gales of wind : 
 
 "Miles, my dear boy, I do not half like this business; 
 suppose you get out, and open the matter to the ladies. 
 There's four of them, you see, and that's three too many. 
 Go, now, Miles, that's a good fellow, and I'll do the same 
 for you another time. I can't have Jour nieces here, you'll 
 own yourself." 
 
 " And while I am telling your story to your niece, your 
 own sister's daughter, what will you be doing here, pray? " 
 
 " Doing? Why anything, my dear Miles, that can be use- 
 ful. I say, boy, do you think she looks anything like me? 
 When you get nearer, if you should think so, just hold up a 
 hand as a signal, that I may not be taken by surprise. Yes, 
 yes; you go first, and I'll follow; and, as for *doing,' why, 
 you know, I can hold this bloody horse." 
 
 I laughed, threw the reins to Marble, who seized them 
 with both hands, as if the beast required holding, while I 
 alighted, and walked to the cluster of girls, who awaited my 
 movements in surprise and silence. Since that day, I have 
 seen more of the world than might have been expected in 
 one of my early career; and often have I had occasion to 
 remark the tendency there exists to extremes in most things; 
 in manners, as well as in every other matter connected with 
 human feelings. bA-s we become sophisticated, acting takes 
 the place of nature, and men and women often affect the 
 
62 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 greatest indiflference in cases in which they feel the liveliest 
 interest. This is the source of the ultra sangfroid of what 
 is termed high breeding, which would have caused the four 
 young women, who then stood in the dooryard of the re- 
 spectable farm-house at which I had alighted, to assume an 
 air as cold, and as marble-like, at the sudden appearance of 
 Mrs. Wetmore's chaise, containing two strange faces, as if 
 they had been long expecting our arrival, and were a little 
 displeased it had not occurred an hour sooner. Such, how- 
 ever, was not my reception. Though the four girls were all 
 youthful, blooming, pretty, delicate in appearance, accord- 
 ing to the fashion of American women, and tolerably well 
 attired, they had none of the calm exterior of conventional 
 manner. One would speak quick to another; looks of sur- 
 prise were often exchanged ; there were not a few downright 
 giggles, and then each put on as dignified an air to meet 
 the stranger as, under the circumstances, she could assume. 
 
 "I presume Miss Kitty Huguenin is among you, young 
 ladies," I commenced, bowing as civilly as was necessary; 
 "for this appears to be the house to which we were 
 directed." 
 
 A girl of about sixteen, of decidedly pleasing appearance, 
 and one who bore a sufficient resemblance to old Mrs. Wet- 
 more to be recognized, advanced a step out of the group, a 
 little eagerly, and then as suddenly checked herself, with the 
 timidity of her years and sex, as if afraid of going too far. 
 
 " I am Kitty," she said, changing color once or twice ; 
 now flushing, and now growing pale. "Is anything the mat- 
 ter, sir? has grandmother sent for me? " 
 
 "Nothing is the matter, unless you can call good news 
 something the matter. We have just left your grandmother's 
 on business, having been up to 'Squire Van Tassel's on her 
 affairs ; rather than let us go on foot, she lent us her chaise, 
 on condition that we should stop on our return and bring 
 you home with us. The chaise is the evidence that we act 
 under orders," 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 63 
 
 In most countries, such a proposition would have excited 
 distrust; in America, and in that day, more especially 
 among girls of the class of Kitty Huguenin, it produced 
 none. Then, I flatter myself, I was not a very frightful ob- 
 ject to a girl of that age, and that my countenance was not 
 of such a cast as absolutely to alarm her. Kitty, accordingly, 
 wished her companions hasty adieus, and in a minute she 
 was placed between Marble and myself, the old vehicle be- 
 ing sufficiently spacious to accommodate three. I made my 
 bows, and away we trotted, or ambled would be a better 
 word. For a brief space there was silence in the chaise, 
 though I could detect Marble stealing sidelong glances at 
 his pretty little niece. His eyes were moist, and he hemmed 
 violently once, and actually blew his nose, taking occasion, 
 at the same time, to pass his handkerchief over his forehead 
 no less than three times in as many minutes. The furtive 
 manner in which he indulged in these feelings, provoked 
 me to say — 
 
 "You appear to have a bad cold this evening, Mr. Wet- 
 more," for I thought the opportunity might also be im- 
 proved, in the way of breaking ground with our secret. 
 
 " Ay, you know how it is in these matters. Miles — some- 
 how, I scarce know why myself, but somehow I feel bloody 
 womanish this evening." 
 
 I felt little Kitty pressing closer to my side, as if she had 
 certain misgivings touching her other neighbor. 
 
 " I suppose you are surprised, Miss Kitty," I resumed, 
 " at finding two strangers in your grandmother's chaise ? " 
 
 " I did not expect it — but — you said you had been to Mr. 
 Van TasseFs, and that there was good news for me — does 
 'Squire Van Tassel allow that grandfather paid him the 
 money ? " 
 
 " Not that exactly, but you have friends who will see that 
 no wrong shall be done you. I suppose you have been afraid 
 your grandmother and yourself might be turned away from 
 the old place?" 
 
64 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " 'Squire Van Tassel's daughters have boasted as much," 
 answered Kitty, in a very subdued tone — a voice, indeed, 
 that grew lower and more tremulous as she proceeded — "but 
 I don't much mind them^ for they think their father is to 
 own the whole country one of these days." This was uttered 
 with spirit. " But the old house was built by grandmother's 
 grandfather, they say, and grandmother was born in it, and 
 mother was born in it, and so was I. It is hard to leave a 
 place like that, sir, and for a debt, too, that grandmother 
 says she is sure has once been paid." 
 
 " Ay, bloody hard ! " growled Marble. 
 
 Kitty again pressed nearer to me, or, to speak more 
 properly, farther from the mate, whose countenance was par- 
 ticularly grim just at that moment. 
 
 "All that you say is very true, Kitty," I replied; "but 
 Providence has sent you friends to take care that no wrong 
 shall be done your grandmother, or yourself." 
 
 " You're right enough in that, Miles," put in the mate. 
 " God bless the old lady; she shall never sleep out of the 
 house, with my consent, unless it is when she sails down the 
 river to go to the theatre, and the museum, the ten or fifteen 
 Dutch churches there are in town, and all them 'ere sort o' 
 thingumerees." 
 
 Kitty gazed at her left-hand neighbor with surprise, but I 
 could feel that maiden bashfulness induced her to press less 
 closely to my side than she had done the minute before. 
 
 " I don't understand you," Kitty answered, after a short 
 pause, during which she was doubtless endeavoring to com- 
 prehend what she had heard. " Grandmother has no wish to 
 go to town; she only wants to pass the rest of her days, 
 quietly, at the old place, and one church is enough for 
 anybody." 
 
 Had the little girl lived a few years later, she would have 
 ascertained that some persons required half a dozen. 
 
 " And you, Kitty, do you suppose your grandmother has 
 no thought for you, when she shall be called away herself.? " 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 6$ 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I know she thinks a good deal of M<2/, but I 
 try to set her heart at ease, poor, dear old grandmother, for 
 it's of no use to be distressing herself about me / 1 can take 
 care of myself well enough, and have plenty of friends who 
 will never see me want. Father's sisters say they'll take 
 care of w^." 
 
 " You have one friend, Kitty, of whom you little think, 
 just now, and he will provide for you." 
 
 " I don't know whom you mean, sir — unless — and yet — ■ 
 you can't suppose I never think of God, sir ? " 
 
 " I mean a friend on earth — have you no friend on earth 
 whom you have not mentioned yet? " 
 
 "I am not sure — perhaps — you do not mean Horace 
 Bright, do you, sir ? " 
 
 This was said with a bright blush, and a look in which 
 the dawning consciousness of maiden shame was so singu- 
 larly blended with almost childish innocence, as both to de- 
 light me, and yet cause me to smile. 
 
 "And who is Horace Bright?" I asked, assuming as 
 grave an air as possible. 
 
 "Oh! Horace is nobody — only the son of one of our 
 neighbors. There, don't you see the old stone house that 
 stands among the the apple and cherry trees, on the bank of 
 the river, just here in a line with this barn ? " 
 
 " Quite plainly, and a very pretty place it is. We were 
 admiring it as we drove up the road." 
 
 " Well, that is Horace Bright's father's, and one of the 
 best farms in the neighborhood. But you musn't mind what 
 he says, grandmother always tells me ; boys love to talk 
 grandly, and all the folks about here feel for us, though 
 most of them are afraid of 'Squire Van Tassel too." 
 
 " I place no reliance at all on Horace's talk, not I. It is 
 just as your grandmother tells you; boys are fond of mak- 
 ing a parade, and often utter things they don't mean." 
 
 " Well, I don't think that is Horace's way in the least, 
 though I wouldn't have you suppose I ever think the least 
 5 
 
66 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 in the world about what Horace says concerning my never 
 being left to want. My own aunts will take care of /^«/." 
 
 " And should they fail you, my dear," cried Marble, with 
 strong feeling, " your own unde would step into their places, 
 without waiting to have his memory jogged." 
 
 Again Kitty looked surprised, a very little startled, and 
 again she pressed to my side. 
 
 " I have no uncle," she answered, timidly. " Father never 
 had a brother, and grandmother^s son is dead." 
 
 " No, Kitty," I said, giving a look at Marble to keep him 
 quiet; "in the last you are mistaken. This is the good 
 news of which we spoke. Your grandmother's son is not 
 dead, but living, and in good health. He is found, acknowl- 
 edged, has passed the afternoon with your grandmother, has 
 money more than enough to satisfy even the unjust demand 
 of the miserly Van Tassel, and will be a father to you.^^ 
 
 "Oh! dear me, can this be true?" exclaimed Kitty, 
 pressing still closer than ever to my side. " And are you 
 uncle, after all, and will it all come out as you say? Poor, 
 poor grandmother, and I not at home to hear it all, and to 
 help her under such a great trial! " 
 
 "Your grandmother was a little distressed of course, at 
 first, but she bore it all remarkably well, and is as happy at 
 this moment as you yourself could wish her to be. You are 
 under a mistake, however, in supposing I am your uncle. 
 Do I look old enough to be your mother's brother? " 
 
 " Dear me, no — I might have seen that, hadn't I been so 
 silly — can it be this other gentleman? " 
 
 Here Marble took his hint from nature, and clasping the 
 pretty young creature in his arms, he kissed her with an 
 affection and warmth that were truly paternal. Poor Kitty 
 was frightened at first, and I dare say, like her grand- 
 mother, in a slight degree disappointed, but there was so 
 much heartiness in the mate's manner, that it reassured her 
 in a degree. 
 
 " I'm a bloody poor uncle, I know, Kitty, for a young 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 6/ 
 
 woman like you to own," Marble got out, though sorely 
 tempted to blubber; "but there's worse in the world, as 
 you'll discover, no doubt, in time. Such as I am, you must 
 take me, and from this time henceforth, do not care a straw 
 for old Van Tassel, or any other griping vagabond like him, 
 in York state." 
 
 "Uncle is a sailor!" Kitty answered, after being fairly 
 released from the mate's rough embrace. "Grandmother 
 heard once that he was a soldier." 
 
 "Ay, that comes of lying. I don't think they could have 
 made a soldier of me, had two wicked nurses run away with 
 me, and had they placed me on fifty tombstones, by way of 
 commencing life. My natur' would revolt at carrying a 
 musket, for sartin, while the seas have always been a sort of 
 home to me." 
 
 Kitty made no answer to this, being a little in doubt, I 
 believe, as to the manner in which she was to regard this 
 new acquisition of an uncle. 
 
 " Your grandparents did suppose your uncle a soldier," I 
 remarked, "but, after the man was seen the mistake was 
 discovered, and now the truth has come out in a way that 
 will admit of no dispute." 
 
 "How is uncle named?" demanded the niece, in a low 
 voice, and a hesitating manner. "Mother's brother was 
 christened Oloff, I have heard grandmother say." 
 
 "Very true, dear; we've been all over that, the old lady 
 and I. They tell me, too, I was christened by the name of 
 Moses — I suppose you know who Moses was, child? " 
 
 "To be sure, uncle! " said Kitty, with a little laugh of 
 surprise. " He was the great lawmaker of the Jews." 
 
 "Ha, Miles, is that so?" 
 
 I nodded assent. 
 
 " And do you know about his being found in the bul- 
 rushes, and the story of the king of Ethiopia's daughter? " 
 
 "The king of Egypt, yofl mean, do you not, uncle Oloff ? " 
 cried Kitty, with another little laugh. 
 
68 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "Well, Ethiopia or Egypt; it's all pretty much the same 
 — this girl has been wonderfully edicated, Miles, and will 
 turn out famous company for me, in the long winter even- 
 ings, some twenty years hence, or when I've worked my way 
 up into the latitude of the dear, good old soul under the 
 hill yonder." 
 
 A slight exclamation from Kitty was followed by a blush, 
 and a change of expression, that showed she was thinking, 
 just at that moment, of anything but uncle Oloff. I asked 
 an explanation. 
 
 " It's only Horace Bright, out yonder in the orchard, look- 
 ing at us. He will be puzzled to know who is with me^ 
 here, in the old chaise. Horace thinks he can drive a horse 
 better than any one about here, so you must be careful how 
 you hold the reins, or use the whip. Horace! " 
 
 This boded no good to Marble's plans for passing the 
 evenings of his old age with Kitty to amuse him; but, as 
 we were now on the brow of the hill, with the cottage in 
 sight, Horace Bright was soon lost to view. To do the girl 
 justice, she appeared now to think only of her grandmother, 
 and of the effects the recent discovery of her son would be 
 likely to produce on one of her years and infirmities. As 
 for myself, I was surprised to see Mr. Hardinge in earnest 
 conversation with old Mrs. Wetmore, both seated on the 
 stoop of the cottage, in the mild summer's evening, and 
 Lucy walking, to and fro, on the short grass of the willow 
 bottom, with an impatience and restlessness of manner it 
 was very unusual for her to exhibit. No sooner was Kitty 
 alighted, than she ran to her grandmother. Marble follow- 
 ing, while I hastened to the point where was to be found the 
 great object of my interest. Lucy's face was full of feeling 
 and concern, and she received me with an extended hand, 
 that gracious as was the act itself, and most grateful as it 
 would have proved to me under other circumstances, I now 
 feared boded no good. 
 
 " Miles, you have been absent an age 1 " Lucy commenced. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 69 
 
 "I should be disposed to reproach yoif, had not the extraor- 
 dinary story of this good old woman explained it all. I feel 
 the want of air and exercise; give me your arm, and we will 
 walk a short distance up the road. My dear father will not 
 be inclined to quit that happy family, so long as any light 
 is left." 
 
 I gave Lucy my arm, and we did walk up the road to- 
 gether, actually ascending the hill I had just descended; 
 but all this did not induce me to overlook the fact that 
 Lucy's manner was hurried and excited. The whole seemed 
 so inexplicable, that I thought I would wait her own pleas- 
 ure in the matter. 
 
 " Your friend. Marble," she continued — " I do not know 
 why I ought not to say our friend, Marble, must be a very 
 happy man at having, at length, discovered who his parents 
 are, and to have discovered them to be so respectable and 
 worthy of his affection." 
 
 " As yet, he seems to be more bewildered than happy, as, 
 indeed, does the whole family. The thing has come on them 
 so unexpectedly, that there has not been time to bring their 
 feelings in harmony with the facts." 
 
 " Family affection is a blessed thing. Miles," Lucy re- 
 sumed, after a short pause, speaking in her thoughtful man- 
 ner; "there is little in this world that can compensate for 
 its loss. It must have been sad, sad, to the poor fellow to 
 have lived so long without father, mother, sister, brother, or 
 any other known relative." 
 
 " I believe Marble found it so ; yet, I think, he felt the 
 supposed disgrace of his birth more than his solitary con- 
 dition. The man has warm affections at the bottom, though 
 he has a most uncouth manner of making it known." 
 
 " I am surprised one so circumstanced never thought of 
 marrying; he might, at least, have lived in the bosom of 
 his own family, though he never knew that of a father." 
 
 "These are the suggestions of a tender and devoted fe- 
 male heart, dear Lucy; but what has a sailor to do with a 
 
70 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 wife? I have heard it said Sir John Jervis — the present 
 Lord St. Vincent — always declared a married seaman, a sea- 
 man spoiled; and I believe Marble loves a ship so well he 
 would hardly know how to love a woman." 
 
 Lucy made no answer to this indiscreet and foolish 
 speech. Why it was made, I scarce knew myself ; but the 
 heart has its bitter moods, when it prompts sentiments and 
 declarations that are very little in accordance with its real 
 impulses. I was so much ashamed of what I had just said, 
 and, in truth, so much frightened, that, instead of attempt- 
 ing to laugh it off, as a silly, unmeaning opinion, or en- 
 deavoring to explain that this was not my own way of think- 
 ing, I walked on some distance in silence, myself, and suf- 
 fered my companion to imitate me in this particular. I 
 have since had reason to think that Lucy was not pleased 
 at my manner of treating the subject, though, blessed crea- 
 ture! she had another matter to communicate, that lay too 
 heavy on her heart to allow one of her generous, disinter- 
 ested nature, to think much of anything else. 
 
 "Miles," Lucy at length broke the silence by saying, 
 " I wish, I do wish we had not met that other sloop this 
 morning." 
 
 I stopped short in the highway, dropped my beautiful 
 companion's arm, and stood gazing intently in her face, as 
 if I would read her most inmost thoughts through those 
 windows of the soul, her serene, mild, tender, blue eyes. I 
 saw that the face was colorless, and that the beautiful lips, 
 out of which the words that had alarmed me more by their 
 accents than their direct signification, had proceeded, were 
 quivering in a way that their lovely mistress could not con- 
 trol. Tears, as large as heavy drops of rain, too, were trem- 
 bling on the long silken eyelashes, while the very attitude 
 of the precious girl denoted hopelessness and grief! 
 
 "This relates to Grace! " I exclaimed, though my throat 
 was so parched, as almost to choke my utterance. 
 
 " Whom, or what else, can now occupy our minds. Miles.? 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. /I 
 
 I can scarce think of anything but Grace ; when I do, it is 
 to remember that my own brother has killed her! " 
 
 What answer could I have made to such a speech, had my 
 mind been sufficiently at ease as respects my sister to think 
 of anything else? As it was, I did not even attempt the 
 vain office of saying anything in the way of alleviating my 
 companion's keen sense of the misconduct of Rupert. 
 
 "Grace is then worse in consequence of this unhappy 
 rencontre ? " I observed, rather than asked. 
 
 "Oh! Miles; what a conversation I have had with her, 
 this afternoon ! She speaks, already, more like a being that 
 belongs to the regions of the blessed, than like one of earth ! 
 There is no longer any secret between us. She would gladly 
 have avoided telling me her precise situation with Rupert, 
 but we had already gone so far, I would know more. I 
 thought it might relieve her mind; and there was the 
 chance, however slight, of its enabling us to suggest some 
 expedient to produce still further good. I think it has had 
 some of the first effect, for she is now sleeping." 
 
 "Did Grace say anything of your communicating the 
 miserable tale to me ? " 
 
 "It is, indeed, a miserable tale! Miles, they were en- 
 gaged from the time Grace was fifteen ! Engaged distinctly, 
 and in terms, I mean ; not by any of the implied under- 
 standings, by which those who were so intimate, generally, 
 might believe themselves bound to each other." 
 
 " And in what manner did so early and long-continued an 
 engagement cease ? " 
 
 " It came from Rupert, who should have died first, before 
 he was so untrue to himself, to my poor father, to me, to all 
 of us. Miles, as well as to his own manhood. It has been 
 as we supposed; he has been deluded by the kclat that at- 
 taches to these Mertons in our provincial society; and 
 Emily is rather a showy girl, you know — at least for those 
 who are accustomed oiily to our simple habits." 
 
 Alas ! little did Lucy then know — she has learned better 
 
72 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 since — that " showy " girls belong much more to our " sim- 
 ple " state of society, than to the state of those which are 
 commonly conceived to be more advanced. But Emily Mer- 
 ton was, in a slight degree, more artificial in manner than 
 it was usual for a Manhattanese female of that day, to be, 
 and this was what Lucy meant; Lucy, who always thought 
 so humbly of herself, and was ever so ready to concede to 
 her rivals all that could plausibly be asked in their behalf. 
 
 " I am well aware how much importance the leading set 
 among ourselves attaches to English connection, and Eng- 
 lish rank," I answered; "but it does not strike me Emily 
 Merton is of a class so elevated, that Rupert Hardinge need 
 break his faith in order to reap the advantage of belonging 
 to her or her family." 
 
 " It cannot be altogether that. Miles," Lucy added, in an 
 appealing, but touchingly confidential manner; "you and I 
 have known each other from children, and, whatever may be 
 the weaknesses of one who is so dear to me, and who, I 
 hope, has not altogether lost his hold on your own affec- 
 tions, we can still rely on each other. I shall speak to you 
 with the utmost dependence on your friendship, and a re- 
 liance on your heart that is not second to that which I place 
 on my dear father's; for this is a subject on which there 
 ought to be no concealment between us. It is impossible 
 that one as manly, as upright, as honest, I will say, as 
 yourself, can have lived so long in close intimacy with 
 Rupert, and not be aware that he has marked defects of 
 character." 
 
 " I have long known that he is capricious," I answered, 
 unwilling to be severe on the faults of Lucy's brother, to 
 Lucy's own ear; "perhaps I might add, that I have known 
 he pays too much attention to fashion, and the opinions of 
 fashionable people." 
 
 " Nay, as we cannot deceive ourselves, let us not attempt 
 the ungrateful task of endeavoring to deceive each other," 
 the true-hearted girl replied, though she said this with so 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 73 
 
 great an effort, that I was compelled to listen attentively to 
 catch all she uttered. "Rupert has failings worse than 
 these. He is mercenary; nor is he always a man of truth. 
 Heaven knows how I have wept over these defects of char- 
 acter, and the pain they have given me from childhood! 
 But, my dear, dear father overlooks them all — or, rather, 
 seeing them, he hopes all things ; it is hard for a parent to 
 believe a child irreclaimable." 
 
 I was unwilling to let Lucy say any more on this subject, 
 for her voice, her countenance, I might almost say her 
 whole figure, showed how much it cost her to say even this 
 much of Rupert. I had long known that Lucy did not re- 
 spect her brother as much as she could wish ; but this was 
 never before betrayed to me in words, nor in any other man- 
 ner, indeed, that would not have eluded the observation of 
 one who knew the parties less thoroughly than myself. I 
 could perceive that she felt the awful consequences she 
 foresaw from her brother's conduct gave me a claim on her 
 sincerity, and that she was suffering martyrdom, in order to 
 do all that lay in her power to lessen the force of the blow 
 that unworthy relative had inflicted. It would have been 
 ungenerous in me to suffer such a sacrifice to continue a 
 moment longer than was necessary. 
 
 " Spare yourself and me, dearest Lucy," I eagerly said, 
 " all explanations but those which are necessary to let me 
 know the exact state of my sister's case. I confess, I could 
 wish to understand, however, the manner in which Rupert 
 has contrived to explain away an engagement that has lasted 
 four years, and which must have been the source of so much 
 innocent confidence between Grace and himself." 
 
 "I was coming to that, Miles; and when you know it, 
 you will know all. Grace has felt his attentions to Emily 
 Merton, for a long time; but there never was a verbal ex- 
 planation between them until just before she left town. 
 Then she felt it due to herself to know the truth ; and, after 
 a conversation which was not very particul^fr, your sister 
 
74 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 offered to release Rupert from his engagement, did he in 
 the least desire it." 
 
 "And what answer did he make to a proposal that was as 
 generous as it was frank ? " 
 
 "I must do Grace the justice to say, Miles, that, in all 
 she said, she used the utmost tenderness towards my brother. 
 Still, I could not but gather the substance of what passed. 
 Rupert, at first, affected to believe that Grace, herself, 
 wished to break the engagement; but, in this, you well 
 know, her ingenuous simplicity would not permit him to 
 succeed. She did not attempt to conceal how deeply she 
 should feel the change in her situation, and how much it 
 might influence her future happiness." 
 
 " Ay, that was like both of them — like Rupert, and like 
 Grace," I muttered, huskily. 
 
 Lucy continued silent an instant, apparently to allow me 
 to regain my self-command ; then she continued — 
 
 " When Rupert found that the responsibility of the rup- 
 ture must rest on him, he spoke more sincerely. He owned 
 to Grace that his views had changed ; said they were both 
 too young to contract themselves when they did, and that he 
 had made an engagement to marry, at a time when he was 
 unfit to bind himself to so solemn a contract — said some- 
 thing about minors, and concluded by speaking of his pov- 
 erty and total inability to support a wife, now that Mrs. 
 Bradfort had left me the whole of her property," 
 
 " And this is the man who wishes to make the world be- 
 lieve that he is the true heir! — nay, who told me, that he 
 considers you as only a sort of trustee, to hold half, or two- 
 thirds of the estate until he has had leisure to sow his wild 
 oats!" 
 
 "I know he has encouraged such notions. Miles," Lucy 
 answered, in a low voice; "how gladly would I realize his 
 hopes, if things could be placed where we once thought they 
 were! Every dollar of Mrs. Bradfort's fortune would I re- 
 linquish with joy, to see Grace happy, or Rupert honest." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 75 
 
 " I am afraid we shall never see the first, Lucy, in this 
 world, at least." 
 
 " I have never wished for this engagement since I have 
 been old enough to judge of my brother's true character. 
 He would ever have been too fickle, and of principles too 
 light, to satisfy Grace's heart, or her judgment. There may 
 have been some truth in his plea that the engagement was 
 too early and inconsiderately made. Persons so young can 
 harldy know what will, or what will not be necessary to 
 their own characters a few years later. As it is, even Grace 
 would now refuse to marry Rupert. She owned to me, that 
 the heaviest part of the blow was being undeceived in rela- 
 tion to his character. I spoke to her with greater freedom 
 than a sister ought to have used, perhaps, but I wished to 
 arouse her pride, as the means of saving her. Alas ! Grace 
 is all affections, and those once withered, I fear, Miles, the 
 rest of her being will go with them." 
 
 I made no answer to this prophetic remark, Lucy's visit 
 to the shore, her manner, and all that she had said, con- 
 vincing me that she had, in a great degree, taken leave of 
 hope. We conversed some time longer, returning towards 
 the cottage; but there was nothing further to communicate 
 that it is necessary to record. Neither of us thought of self, 
 and I would as soon have attempted to desecrate a church, 
 as attempt to obtain any influence over Lucy, in my own 
 behalf, at such a moment. All my feelings reverted to my 
 poor sister again, and I was dying with impatience to return 
 to the sloop, whither, indeed, it was time to repair, the sun 
 having some time before disappeared, while even the twi- 
 light was drawing to a close. 
 
76 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The serpent of^the field, by art 
 And spells, is won from harming, 
 But that which coils around the heart, 
 Oh ! who hath power of charming. 
 
 Hebrew Melodies. 
 
 It was not easy to make Mr. Hardinge a sharer in my im- 
 patience. He had taken a fancy to Marble, and was as 
 much rejoiced at this accidental discovery of the mate's par- 
 entage, as if he had been one of the family himself. With 
 such feelings, therefore, I had a good deal of difficulty in 
 getting him away. I asked Marble to go off with me, it 
 being understood that he was to be landed again, in order 
 to pass the first night of his recognition under his mother's 
 roof. To this scheme, however, he raised an objection, as 
 soon as told it was my intention to go down the river as far 
 as New York in quest of further medical advice, insisting on 
 accompanying me, in order to obtain the thousand dollars 
 with which to face 'Squire Van Tassel, or, at least, his 
 mortgage sale. Accordingly, there were leave-takings, and 
 about eight we were all on board the sloop. 
 
 I did not see, nor did I ask to see, my sister again, that 
 night. I had not seen her, indeed, since the moment Rupert 
 was discovered in company with the Mertons; and, to own 
 the truth, I felt afraid to see her, knowing, as I did, how 
 much her frame was apt to be affected by her mind. It ap- 
 peared to me there remained but the single duty to perform, 
 that of getting below as fast as possible, in order to obtain 
 the needed medical aid. It is true, we possessed Post's 
 written instructions, and knew his opinion that the chief 
 thing was to divert Grace's thoughts from dwelling on the 
 great cause of her malady; but, now he had left us, it 
 seemed as if I should neglect a most sacred duty, did I de- 
 lay obtaining some other competent physician. 
 
 The tide turned at nine, and we got immediately under 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 77 
 
 way, with a light southwest wind. As for Marble, igno- 
 rant as Mr. Hardinge himself of the true condition of my 
 sister, he determined to celebrate his recent discoveries by 
 a supper. I was about to object to the project, on account 
 of Grace, but Lucy begged me to let him have his way; such 
 convives as my late guardian and my own mate were not 
 likely to be very boisterous; and she fancied that the con- 
 versation, or such parts of it as should be heard through the 
 bulkhead, might serve to divert the invalid's mind from 
 dwelling too intently on the accidental rencontre of the 
 morning. The scheme was consequently carried out; and, 
 in the course of an hour, the cabins of the Wallingford 
 presented a singular spectacle. In her berth was Grace, 
 patiently and sweetly lending herself to her friend's wish 
 to seem to listen to her own account of the reason of the 
 mate's /<?i"/(3;, and to be amused by his sallies; Lucy, all care 
 and attention for her patient, as I could discover through 
 the open door of the after-cabin, while she endeavored to 
 appear to enter into the business that was going on at the 
 table, actually taking wine with the mate, and drinking to 
 the happiness of his newly found relatives; Mr. Hardinge, 
 overflowing with philanthropy, and so much engrossed with 
 his companion's good fortune as not to think of aught else 
 at the moment; Marble, himself, becoming gradually more 
 under the influence of his new situation, as his feelings had 
 time to gather force and take their natural direction; while 
 I was compelled to wear the semblance of joining in his 
 festivities, at an instant when my whole soul was engrossed 
 with anxiety on behalf of Grace. 
 
 " This milk is just the richest and best that ever came on 
 board a vessel ! '^ exclaimed the mate, as he was about to 
 wind up his own share of the repast with a cup of coffee — ■ 
 " and as for butter, I can say I never tasted the article be- 
 fore. Little Kitty brought both down to the boat with her 
 own hands, and that tnakes them so much the sweeter, too, 
 for if anything can add to the excellence of eatables, it is to 
 
78 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 have them pass through the hands of one's own relations. 
 I dare say, Mr. Hardinge, now, you have verified this, time 
 and again, in your own experience? " 
 
 "In feeling, my friend; in feeling, often, though little in 
 practice, in the sense that you mean. My family has been 
 my congregation, unless, indeed, Miles here, and his be- 
 loved sister, can be added to my own children in fact, as 
 they certainly are in affection. But, I can understand how 
 butter made by the hands of one's own mother, or by those 
 of such a pretty niece as your Kitty, would taste all the 
 sweeter." 
 
 "It's such a providential thing, as you call it, to find such 
 a mother in the bargain ! Now I might have discovered a 
 slattern, or a scold, or a woman of bad character; or one 
 that never went to church; or even one that swore and 
 drank; for, begging your pardon. Miss Lucy, just such crea- 
 tur's are to be met with ; whereas, instead of any of these 
 disagreeable recommendations, I've fallen in with an A No. 
 I mother; ay, and such an old lady as the King of England, 
 himself, need not be ashamed to own.* I felt a strong de- 
 sire, Mr. Hardinge, to get down on my knees, and to ask 
 the dear, good old soul, just to say, * God bless you, my dear 
 son, Moses, Van Duzer, or Oloff, whatever your name may 
 be.' " 
 
 " And if you had, Mr. Marble, you would not have been 
 any the worse for it. Such feelings do you honor, and no 
 man need be ashamed of desiring to receive a parent's 
 blessing." 
 
 " I suppose now, my dear sir," added Marble, innocently, 
 "that is what is called having a religious turn? I've often 
 foreseen that religion would fetch me up, in the long run ; 
 and now that I am altogether relieved from bitterness of 
 heart on the subject of belonging to none, and no one's 
 
 ♦ In that day, all allusions to royalty were confined to the majesty of Great Britain; 
 it being no uncommon thing, at the commencement of this century, to hear " The 
 Kiog" toasted at many of the best tables of the country. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 79 
 
 belonging to me, my sentiments have undergone a great 
 alteration, and I feel a wish to be at peace with the whole 
 human family — no, not with ihQwhole; I except that rascally 
 old Van Tassel." 
 
 " You must except no one — we are told to * love those that 
 hate us, to bless those that curse us, and to pray for those 
 that despitefully use us.' " 
 
 Marble stared at Mr. Hardinge ; for, to own the truth, it 
 would have been difficult, in a Christian land, to meet with 
 one of his years who had less religious instruction than him- 
 self. It is quite probable that these familiar mandates had 
 never been heard by him before ; but I could see that he 
 was a little struck with the profound morality that pervaded 
 them ; a morality to which no human heart appears to be so 
 insensible as not in secret to acknowledge its sublimity. 
 Still he doubted. 
 
 " Where are we told to do this, my dear sir? " demanded 
 Marble, after looking intently at the rector for a moment. 
 
 "Where? why, where we get all our divine precept and 
 inspired morality, the Bible. You must come to wish this 
 Mr. Van Tassel good, instead of evil ; try to love, instead 
 of hating him." 
 
 " Is that religion ? " demanded the mate, in his most dog- 
 matical and determined manner. 
 
 "It is Christianity — its spirit, its very essence; without 
 which the heart cannot be right, let the tongue proclaim 
 what delusion it may." 
 
 Marble had imbibed a sincere respect for my late guar- 
 dian, equally from what he had heard me say in his favor, 
 and what he had seen himself, of his benevolent feel- 
 ings, kind-hearted morality, and excellent sense. Never- 
 theless, it was not an easy matter to teach a being like 
 Marble the lesson that he was to do good to those who used 
 him despitefully; and just at that moment he was in a 
 frame of mind to do ajmost anything else, sooner than par- 
 don Van Tassel. All this I could see, understanding the 
 
So MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 man so well, and, in order to prevent a useless discussion 
 that might disturb my sister, I managed to change the dis- 
 course before it was too late; I say too late, because it is 
 not easy to shake off two moralists who sustain their doc- 
 trines as strongly as Mr. Hardinge and my mate. 
 
 " I am glad the name of this Mr. Van Tassel has been 
 mentioned," I observed, " as it may be well to have your 
 advice, sir, concerning our best mode of proceeding in his 
 affair." 
 
 I then related to Mr. Hardinge the history of the mort- 
 gage, and the necessity there was for promptitude, inasmuch 
 as the sale was advertised for the ensuing week. My late 
 guardian was better acquainted with the country, up the 
 river, than I was myself; and it was fortunate the subject 
 was broached, as he soon convinced me the only course to 
 be pursued was to put Marble ashore at Hudson, where, if 
 too late for the regular stage, he might obtain some other 
 conveyance, and proceed to town by land. This would 
 barely leave him time to transact all the necessary business, 
 and to be back in season to prevent the title to the Willow 
 Cove from passing into the usurer's grasp. As was usual 
 with Mr. Hardinge, he entered into this, as into every good 
 work, heart and hand, and immediately set about writing 
 directions for Marble's government when he got ashore. 
 This put an end to the banquet, and glad was I to see 
 the table removed, and the other signs of a tranquil night 
 reappear. 
 
 It was twelve before the sloop was as low as Hudson, 
 and I saw by our rate of sailing, that, indeed, there was lit- 
 tle prospect of her reaching New York in time for Marble's 
 necessities. He was landed, therefore, and Mr. Hardinge 
 and myself accompanied him to the stage-house, where we 
 ascertained that the next morning after breakfast he would 
 be enabled to get into the stage, which would reach town in 
 the evening of the succeeding day. But this was altogether 
 too slow for Marble's impatience. He insisted on procur- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. Si 
 
 ing a private conveyance, and we saw him drive out of the 
 long street that then composed most of the city of Hudson, 
 at a slapping pace, about one o'clock in the morning. This 
 important duty discharged, Mr. Hardinge and I returned 
 to the sloop in which Neb had been standing off and on, in 
 waiting for us, and again made sail down the river. When 
 I turned in, the Wallingford was getting along at the rate 
 of about five miles the hour; the wind having freshened, and 
 come out at the westward, a quarter that just enabled her to 
 lay her course. 
 
 The reader will easily imagine I did not oversleep my- 
 self the following morning. My uneasiness was so great, 
 indeed, that I dreamed of the dreadful accident which had 
 produced my father's death, and then fancied that I saw 
 him, my mother, and Grace, all interred at the same time, 
 and in the same grave. Fortunately, the wind stood at the 
 west, and the sloop was already within twenty miles of the 
 creek at Clawbonny when I got on deck. All was quiet 
 in the after-cabin, and Mr. Hardinge still continuing in his 
 berth, I went out to breathe the fresh morning air, without 
 speaking to any below. There was no one on the quarter- 
 deck but the pilot, who was at the helm, though I saw a pair 
 of legs beneath the boom, close in with the mast, that I 
 knew to be Neb's, and a neat, dark petticoat that I felt cer- 
 tain must belong to Chloe. I approached the spot, intend- 
 ing to question the former on the subject of the weather 
 during his watch, but just as about to hail him, I heard the 
 young lady say, in a more animated tone than was discreet 
 for the character of the conversation — 
 
 "No, nebber^ sah — nebber^ widout de apperbation of my 
 modder and de whole famerly. Mattermony a berry differ 
 ting, Neb, from what you surposes. Now many a young 
 i^igger gentleman imagine dat he has only to coax his gal 
 to say * yes,' and den dey goes to de clergy and stands up 
 for de blessin', and inj^gines all right for de futur', and for 
 de present time, all which is just a derlusion and a dercep- 
 6 
 
82 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 tion. No, sah, mattermony a berry differ t'ing from dat^ as 
 any old lady can tell you. De fuss t'ing in mattermony is 
 to hab a consent^ 
 
 " Well, Chloe, and hab'n't I had dis berry consent from 
 you now for most two year? " 
 
 "Ay, dat not de consent I surposes. You wouldn't t'ink, 
 Neb, ongrateful feller, to get marry, widout first askin' de 
 consent of Masser Mile, I do surpose ! You, who has been 
 his own waiter so long, and has gone to sea wid him so often, 
 and has saved his life, and has helped kill so many hateful 
 saverges, and has been on a desert conternent wid him." 
 
 " I nebber told you dat, Chloe — I said on an island." 
 
 "Well, what's the differ? You cannot tell me any t'ing 
 of edecration, Neb, for I hab hear Miss Grace and Miss 
 Lucy say deir lesson so often dat I sometimes surposes I 
 can say 'em all, one by one, almost as well as my young lady 
 'emselves. No, Neb, on dat subjeck better be silent. You 
 been much too busy ebber to be edercated, and if I do marry 
 you, remember I now tell you I shall not enter into matter- 
 mony wid you on account of any edercation you hab." 
 
 " All Clawbonny say dat we can make as good a couple, 
 Chloe, as ebber stood up togedder." 
 
 " All Clawbonny don't know much of mattermony. Neb. 
 People talks inderskrimernaterly, and doesn't know what 
 dey says, too often. In de fuss place my modder, my own 
 born modder, upposes our uner, and dat is a very great dif- 
 ferculty to begin wid. When a born modder upposes, a darter 
 ought to t'ink sebberal time." 
 
 " Let me speak to Masser Mile ; he'll fetch up her objeck- 
 shun wid a round turn." 
 
 "What dat, Neb?" 
 
 " It mean masser will order her to consent." 
 
 " Dat nebber saterfy my conscience. Neb. We be nigger, 
 dat true, but no Clawbonny master ebber tell a Clawbonny 
 slabe to get marry or not to get marry, as he choose. Dat 
 would be intollabull, and not to be supported! No, matter- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 83 
 
 mony is religion, and religion free. No color' young lady 
 hab vergin affeckshun to t'row 'em away on just whom her 
 masser say. But, Neb, dere one odder differculty to our 
 uner dat I don't know — sometime I feel awful about it ! " 
 
 As Chloe now spoke naturally, for the first time, Neb was 
 evidently startled, and I had sufficient amusement and suffi- 
 cient curiosity to remain stationary in order to hear what this 
 new obstacle might be. The voice of the negress was music 
 itself, almost as sweet as Lucy's, and I was struck with a 
 light tremor that pervaded it, as she so suddenly put an end 
 to all her own affectation of sentiment, and nipped her airs 
 and graces, as it might be, in the bud. 
 
 " Nebber talk to me of mattermony. Neb," Chloe continued, 
 almost sobbing as she spoke, " while Miss Grace be in dis 
 berry bad way ! It hard enough to see her look so pale and 
 melercholy, without t'inking of becomin' a wife." 
 
 " Miss Grace will grow better, now Masser Mile carry her 
 on de water. If he only take her to sea, she get so fat and 
 hearty, no libbin' wid her! " 
 
 Chloe did not acquiesce in this opinion; she rather in- 
 sisted that " Miss Grace " was altogether too delicate and 
 refined a person to live in a ship. But the circumstance that 
 struck me with the greatest force, in this characteristic dia- 
 logue, was the fact that Chloe betrayed to me the conscious- 
 ness of the cause of my sister's indisposition ; while, true to 
 her sex's instincts, and faithful to her duty, the girl com- 
 pletely concealed it from her lover. I was also oppressively 
 struck with the melancholy forebodings that appeared in 
 Chloe's manner, rather than in her words, and which made 
 it apparent that she doubted of her young mistress's recov- 
 ery. She concluded the conversation by saying — 
 
 " No, no. Neb, don't talk to me of mattermony while Miss 
 Grace so ill; and if anytin'g skou/d happen, you need neb- 
 ber talk to me of it at a//. I could nebber t'ink of any uner 
 (union) should anyt'ing happen to Miss Grace. Lub (love) 
 will die forebber in de family, when Miss Grace die! " 
 
84 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 I turned away at this speech, the tears starting to my 
 eyes, and saw Lucy standing in the companion-way. She 
 was waiting to speak to me, and no sooner caught my eye, 
 than, beckoning me to her side, she let me know that my 
 sister desired to see me. Erasing every sign of emotion as 
 soon as possible, I descended with Lucy, and was soon at 
 the side of my sister's berth. 
 
 Grace received me with an angelic smile; but I almost 
 gasped for breath as I noticed the prodigious change that 
 had come over her in so brief a space. She now looked 
 more like a being of another world than ever; and this, too, 
 immediately after coming from the refreshment of a night's 
 rest. I kissed her forehead, which had an unnatural chill 
 on it, I thought; and I felt the feeble pressure of an arm 
 that was thrown affectionately around my neck. I then sat 
 down on the transom, still holding my sister's hand. Grace 
 looked anxiously at me for half a minute ere she spoke, as 
 if to ascertain how far I was conscious of her situation. 
 
 " Lucy tells me, brother,'^ she at length said, " that you 
 think of carrying me down the river, as far as town, in order 
 to get further advice. I hope this is a mistake of our dear 
 Lucy's, however ? " 
 
 " It is not, Grace. If the wind stand here at the west- 
 ward, I hope to have you in Lucy's own house in Wall 
 street, by to-morrow evening. I know she will receive you 
 hospitably, and have ventured to form the plan v;ithout con- 
 sulting you on the subject." 
 
 " Better that I should be at Clawbonny — if anything can 
 now do me good, brother, it will be native air, and pure 
 country air. Hearken to my request, and stop at the creek. " 
 
 " Your serious request, Grace, will be a law to me, if 
 made on due reflection. This growing feebleness, however, 
 alarms me; and I cannot justify it to myself not to send for 
 advice." 
 
 " Remember, Miles, it is not yet twenty-four hours since 
 one of the ablest men of the country saw me. We have his 
 
MILES WALLlNGFORD. 8$ 
 
 written instructions; and, all that man can do for me, they 
 will do for me. No, brother; listen to my entreaties, and 
 go into the creek. I pine, I pine to be again at dear Claw- 
 bonny, where alone I can enjoy anything like peace of body 
 or mind. This vessel is unsuited to me; I cannot think of 
 a future or pray in it. Brother, dearest brother, carry me 
 home, if you love me ! " 
 
 There was no resisting such an appeal. I went on deck 
 with a heavy heart, and gave the necessary orders to the 
 pilot; and, in about eight-and-forty hours after we emerged 
 into the Hudson, we left that noble stream again to shoot 
 beneath the shaded, leafy banks of our own inlet. Grace 
 was so feeble as to be carried to the chaise, in which she 
 was supported by Lucy, during the short drive to the house. 
 When I reached my own dwelling, I found Mr. Hardinge 
 pacing the little portico, or piazza, waiting for my arrival, 
 with an uneasiness of manner that at once proclaimed his 
 anxiety to see me. He had driven the horse of the chaise, 
 and had imbibed a first impression of Grace's danger. 
 
 " Miles, my dear boy — my second son," the simple-hearted, 
 excellent old man commenced; "Miles, my dear boy, the 
 hand of God has been laid heavily on us — your beloved sis- 
 ter, my own precious Grace, is far more ill than I had any 
 idea of, before this morning." 
 
 " She is in the hands of her merciful Creator," I said, 
 struggling to command myself, "who, I greatly fear, is 
 about to call her from a world that is not good enough for 
 one so innocent and pure, to take her to himself. I have 
 foreseen this from the hour I first met her, after my return ; 
 though a single ray of hope dawned on me, when Post ad- 
 vised the change of scene. So far from producing good, 
 this excursion has produced evil ; and she is much worse 
 than when we left home." 
 
 " Such short-sighted mortals are we ! But what can we 
 do, my boy? I conftss my judgment, my faculties them- 
 selves, are nearly annihilated by the suddenness of this 
 
S6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 shock. I had supposed her illness some trifling complaint 
 that youth and care would certainly remove; and here we 
 stand, as it might be, at the call of the trumpet's blast, 
 almost around her grave ! " 
 
 " I am most anxious to lean on your wisdom and expe- 
 rience, my dear sir, at this critical moment; if you will ad- 
 vise, I shall be happy to follow your instructions." 
 
 "We must lean on God, Miles," answered my worthy 
 guardian, still pacing the piazza, the tears running down 
 his cheeks in streams, and speaking so huskily as barely to 
 be intelligible; "yes, we will have the prayers of the con- 
 gregation next Sunday morning; and most devout and heart- 
 felt prayers they will be; for her own sainted mother was 
 not more deservedly loved! To be called away so young 
 — to die in the first bloom of youth and loveliness, as it 
 were, —but, it is to go to her God! We must endeavor 
 to think of her gain — to rejoice over, rather than mourn 
 her loss." 
 
 " I grieve to perceive that you regard my sister's case as 
 so entirely hopeless, sir." 
 
 "Hopeless! It is full of the brightest promise; and 
 when I come to look calmly at it, my reason tells me I 
 ought not to grieve. Still, Miles, the loss of Lucy, herself, 
 would scarce be a more severe blow to me. I have loved 
 her from childhood, cared for her as for one of my own, and 
 feel the same love for her that I should feel for a second 
 daughter. Your parents were dear to me, and their children 
 have always appeared to me to belong to my own blood. 
 Had I not been your guardian, boy, and you and Grace been 
 comparatively so rich, while I and mine were so poor, it 
 would have been the first wish of my heart to have seen 
 Rupert and Grace, you and Lucy, united, which would have 
 made you all my beloved children alike. I often thought of 
 this, until I found it necessary to repress the hope, lest I 
 should prove unfaithful to my trust. Now indeed, Mrs. 
 Bradfort's bequest might have smoothed over every difficulty ; 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 8/ 
 
 but it came too late! It was not to be; Providence had 
 ordered otherwise." 
 
 " You had an ardent supporter of your scheme in one of 
 your children, at least, sir." 
 
 " So you have given me to understand. Miles, and I regret 
 that I was informed of the fact so late, or I might have con- 
 trived to keep off other young men while you were at sea, or 
 until an opportunity offered to enable you to secure my 
 daughter's affections. That done, neither time nor distance 
 could have displaced you ; the needle not being more true 
 than Lucy, or the laws of nature more certain." 
 
 " The knowledge of these sterling qualities, sir, only 
 makes me regret my having come too late, so much the 
 more." 
 
 "It was not to be; at one time, I ^/^ think Rupert and 
 Grace had a preference for each other; but I must have 
 been deceived. God had ordered it otherwise, and wisely, 
 no doubt; as his omniscience foresaw the early drooping 
 of this lovely flower. I suppose their having been educated 
 together, so much like brother and sister, has been the rea- 
 son there was so much indifference to each other's merits. 
 You have been an exception on account of your long ab- 
 sences, Miles, and you must look to those absences for the 
 consolation and relief you will doubtless require. Alas! 
 alas! that I could not now fold Grace to my heart, as a 
 daughter and a bride, instead of standing over her grave ! 
 Nothing but Rupert's diffidence of his own claims, during 
 our days of poverty, could have prevented him from sub- 
 mitting himself to so much loveliness and virtue. I acquit 
 the lad of insensibility ; for nothing but the sense of pov- 
 erty, and the pride of a poor gentleman, added perhaps to 
 the brotherly regard he has always felt for Grace, could 
 have kept him from seeking her hand. Grace, properly 
 enough, would have requited his affection." 
 
 Such is a specimen«of the delusion under which we live 
 daily. Here was my sister dying of bjighted affections 
 
SS MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 under my own roof; and the upright, conscientious father of 
 the wretch who had produced this withering evil, utterly 
 unconscious of the wrong that had been done, still regard- 
 ing his son with the partiality and indulgence of a fond 
 parent. To me, it seemed incredible at the time, that un- 
 suspecting integrity could carry its simplicity so far; but I 
 have since lived long enough to know that mistakes like 
 these are constantly occurring around us; effects being 
 hourly attributed to causes with which they have no connec- 
 tion, and causes being followed down to effects, that are as 
 imaginary as human sagacity is faulty. As for myself, I 
 can safely say, that in scarce a circumstance of my life that 
 has brought me the least under the cognizance of the public, 
 have I ever been judged justly. In various instances have 
 I been praised for acts that were either totally without any 
 merit, or, at least, the particular merit imputed to them; 
 while I have been even persecuted for deeds that deserved 
 praise. An instance or two of the latter of these cases of 
 the false judgment of the world will be laid before the 
 reader as I proceed. 
 
 Mr. Hardinge continued for some time to expatiate on the 
 loveliness of Grace's character, and to betray the weight of 
 the blow he had received in gaining this sudden knowledge 
 of her danger. He seemed to pass all at once from a state 
 of inconsiderate security to one of total hopelessness, and 
 found the shock so much harder to endure. At length he 
 sent for Lucy, with whom he continued closeted for near an 
 hour. I ascertained, afterward, that he questioned the dear 
 girl closely on the subject of my sister's malady; even de- 
 siring to know if her affections were any way connected with 
 this extraordinary sinking of the vital powers, but not in the 
 slightest degree inclining to the distrust of Rupert's being 
 in any manner implicated in the affair. Lucy, truthful and 
 frank as she was, felt the uselessness, nay, the danger, of 
 enlightening her father, and managed to evade all his more 
 delicate inquiries without involving herself in falsehoods. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 89 
 
 She well knew if he were apprised of the real state of the 
 case, that Rupert would have been sent for, and every repa- 
 ration it was in his power to make would have been insisted 
 on as an act of justice; a hopeless and distressing attempt 
 to restore the confidence of unbounded love, and the esteem 
 which, once lost, is gone forever. Perhaps the keenest of 
 all Grace's sufferings proceeded from the consciousness of 
 the total want of merit in the man she had so effectually en- 
 shrined in her heart, that he could only be ejected by break- 
 ing in pieces and utterly destroying the tenement that had 
 so long contained him. With ordinary natures, this change 
 of opinion might have sufficed for the purposes of an effect- 
 ual cure, but my poor sister was differently constituted. 
 She had ever been different from most of her sex in inten- 
 sity of feeling, and had come near dying, while still a child, 
 on the occasion of the direful catastrophe of my father's 
 loss; and the decease of even our mother, though long ex- 
 pected, had come near to extinguish the flame of life in the 
 daughter. As I have already said more than once, a being 
 so sensitive and so pure, ever seemed better fitted for the 
 regions of bliss, than for the collisions and sorrows of the 
 world. 
 
 Now we were at Clawbonny again, I scarce knew how to 
 employ myself. Grace I could not see; Lucy, who took the 
 entire management of the invalid, requiring for her rest and 
 quiet. In this she did but follow the directions of reason, 
 as well as those left by Post, and I was fain to yield, know- 
 ing that my sister could not possibly have a more judicious 
 or a more tender nurse. 
 
 The different persons belonging to the mill and the farm 
 came to me for direction^, which I was compelled to give 
 with thoughts engrossed with the state of my sister. More 
 than once I endeavored to arouse myself, and for a few 
 minutes seemed to enter, if I did not truly enter, with inter- 
 est into the affairs presented to my consideration ; but these 
 Uttle rallies were merely so many attempts at self-delusion, 
 
90 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 and I finally referred everything to the respective persons 
 entrusted with the different branches of the duty, bidding 
 them act as they had been accustomed to do in my absence. 
 
 " Why, yes, Masser Mile," answered the old negro who 
 was the head man in the field, " dis berry well, if he can do 
 it. Remember I always hab Masser Hardinge to talk tome 
 about 'e crop, and sich t'ing, and dat a won'erful help to a 
 poor nigger when he in a nonplush." 
 
 " Surely, Hiram, you are a better husbandman than Mr. 
 Hardinge and myself put together, and cannot want the ad- 
 vice of either to tell you how to raise corn, or to get in 
 hay!" 
 
 " Dat berry true, sah — so true, I won't deny him. But 
 you know how it be, Masser Mile ; a nigger do lub to talk, 
 and it help along work won'erfully, to get a good dispute, 
 afore he begin." 
 
 As respects the blacks, this was strictly true. Though as 
 respectful as slavery and habit could make them, they were 
 so opinionated and dogmatical, each in his or her sphere, 
 that nothing short of a downright assertion of authority 
 could produce submission to any notions but their own. 
 They loved to argue the different points connected with 
 their several duties, but they did not like to be convinced. 
 Mr. Hardinge would discuss with them, from a sense of 
 duty, and he would invariably yield, unless in cases that 
 involved moral principles. On all such points, and they 
 were not of unfrequent occurrence in a family of so many 
 blacks, he was as inflexible as the laws of the Medes and 
 Persians; but, as respected the wheat, the potatoes, the 
 orchards, the mill, or the sloop, he usually submitted to the 
 experience of those more familiar with the business, after 
 having discussed the matters in council. This rendered 
 him exceedingly popular at Clawbonny, the persuaded 
 usually having the same sort of success in the world as a 
 good listener. As for the rector himself, after so many long 
 discussions, he began to think he had actually influenced the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 9 1 
 
 different steps adopted, the cause of one of the illusions I 
 have already portrayed. 
 
 Old Hiram did not quit me when he came for instructions, 
 alias a " dispute," without a word of inquiry touching Grace. 
 I could see that the alarm had passed among the slaves, and 
 it was quite touching to note the effect it produced on their 
 simple minds. It would have been sufficient for them to 
 love her, that Grace was their young mistress; but such a 
 mistress as she had ever been, and one so winning, in man- 
 ner and person, they might be said almost to worship her. 
 
 "I berry sorry to hear Miss Grace be onwell, sah," said 
 old Hiram, looking at me sorrowfully. " It go hard wid us 
 all, if anyt'ing happen dere ! I always s'pose, Masser Mile, 
 dat Miss Grace and Masser Rupert come togeder, some time; 
 as we all expects you and Miss Lucy will. Dem are happy 
 days, sah, at Clawbonny, for den we all know our new masser 
 and new missus from de cradle. No, no — we can nebber 
 spare Miss Grace, sah; even I should miss her in 'e field! " 
 
 The very blacks had observed the state of things which 
 had deluded my poor sister; and the slave had penetrated 
 his master's secret. I turned away abruptly from the negro, 
 lest he should also detect the evidence of the weakness ex- 
 torted by his speech, from the eyes of manhood. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Like the lily 
 That once was mistress of the field, and flourished, 
 I'll hang my head and perish 
 
 Queen Catherine. 
 
 I SAW little of Lucy that night. She met us at evening prayers, 
 and tears were in her eyes as she arose from her knees. 
 Without speaking, she kissed her father for good night, more 
 affectionately than ever, I thought, and then turned to me. 
 Her hand was extend^ (we had seldom met or parted for 
 eighteen years without observing this little act of kindness), 
 
92 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 but she did not — nay, could not, speak. I pressed the little 
 hand fervently in my own, and relinquished it again, in the 
 same eloquent silence. She was seen no more by us until 
 next day. 
 
 The breakfast had ever been a happy meal at Clawbonny. 
 My father, though merely a shipmaster, was one of the better 
 class; and he had imbibed many notions, in the course of 
 his different voyages, that placed him much in advance of 
 the ordinary habits of his day and country. Then an Amer- 
 ican shipmaster is usually superior to those of other coun- 
 tries. This arises from some of the peculiarities of our in- 
 stitutions, as well as from the circumstance that the navy is 
 so small. Among other improvements, my father had broken 
 in upon the venerable American custom of swallowing a 
 meal as soon as out of bed. The breakfast at Clawbonny, 
 from my earliest infancy, or as long as I can remember, had 
 been eaten regularly at nine o'clock, a happy medium be- 
 tween the laziness of dissipation and the hurry of ill-formed 
 habits. At that hour the whole family used to meet, still 
 fresh from a night's repose, and yet enlivened and gay by an 
 hour or two of exercise in the open air, instead of coming to 
 the family board half asleep, with a sort of drowsy sulkiness, 
 as if the meal were a duty, and not a pleasure. We ate as 
 leisurely as keen appetites would permit; laughed, chatted, 
 related the events of the morning, conversed of our plans 
 for the day, and indulged our several tastes and humors, like 
 people who had been up and stirring, and not like so many 
 drowsy drones swallowing our food for form's sake. The 
 American breakfast has been celebrated by several modern 
 writers, and it deserves to be, though certainly not to be 
 compared to that of France. Still, it might be far better 
 than it is, did our people understand the mood in which it 
 ought to be enjoyed. 
 
 While on this subject, the reader will excuse an old man's 
 prolixity, if I say a word on the state of the science of the 
 table in general, as it is put in practice in this great repub- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 93 
 
 lie. A writer of this country, one Mr. Cooper, has some- 
 where said that the Americans are the grossest feeders in 
 the civilized world, and warns his countrymen to remember 
 that a national character may be formed in the kitchen. 
 This remark is commented on by Captain Marryatt, who 
 calls it both unjust and ill-natured. As for the ill-nature I 
 shall say nothing, unless it be to remark that I do not well 
 see how that which is undeniably true ought to be thought 
 so very ill-natured. That it is true, every American who 
 has seen much of other lands must know. Captain Mar- 
 ryatt's allegation that the tables are good in the large towns, 
 has nothing to do with the merits of this question. The 
 larger American towns are among the best eating and drink- 
 ing portions of the world. But what are they as compared 
 to the whole country? What are the public tables, or the 
 tables of the refined, as compared to the tables of the mass, 
 even in these very towns? All things are to be judged of 
 by the rules, and not by the exceptions. Because a small 
 portion of the American population understand what good 
 cookery is, it by no means follows that all do. Who would 
 think of saying that the people of England live on white 
 bait and venison, because the nobility and gentry (the 
 aldermen inclusive) can enjoy both, in the seasons, ad libi- 
 tum ? I suspect this Mr. Cooper knows quite as well what 
 he is about, when writing of America, as any European. If 
 pork fried in grease, and grease pervading half the other 
 dishes, vegetables cooked without any art, and meats done 
 to rags, make a good table, then is this Mr. Cooper wrong, 
 and Captain Marryatt right, and vice versd. As yet, while 
 nature has done so much in America, art has done but little. 
 Much compared with numbers and time, certainly, but little 
 as compared with what numbers and time have done else- 
 where. Nevertheless, I would make an exception in favor 
 of America, as respects the table of one country, though not 
 so much in connection with the coarseness of the feeding as 
 in the poverty of the food. I consider the higher parts of 
 
94 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Germany to be the portions of the Christian world where 
 eating and drinking are in the most primitive condition ; 
 and that part of this great republic, which Mr. Alison would 
 probably call the state of New England, to come next. In 
 abundance and excellence of food in the native form, Amer- 
 ica is particularly favored; Baltimore being at the very 
 nucleus of all that is exquisite in the great business of mas- 
 tication. Nevertheless, the substitution of cooks from the 
 interior of New England, for the present glistening tenants 
 of her kitchens, would turn even that paradise of the epicure 
 into a sort of oleaginous waste. Enough of cookery. 
 
 Lucy did not appear at prayers next morning ! I felt her 
 absence as one feels the certainty of some dreadful evil. 
 Breakfast was announced; still Lucy did not appear. The 
 table was smoking and hissing; and Romeo Clawbonny, 
 who acted as the every-day house-servant, or footman, had 
 several times intimated that it might be well to commence 
 operations, as a cold breakfast was very cold comfort. 
 
 " Miles, my dear boy," observed Mr. Hardinge, after 
 opening the door to look for the absentee half a dozen 
 times, " we will wait no longer. My daughter, no doubt, in- 
 tends to breakfast with Grace, to keep the poor, dear girl 
 company; for it is dull work to breakfast by one's self. 
 You and I miss Lucy sadly, at this very moment, though we 
 have each other's company to console us." 
 
 We had just taken our seats, when the door slowly opened, 
 and Lucy entered the room. 
 
 " Good morning, dearest father," said the sweet girl, pass- 
 ing an arm around Mr. Hardinge's neck, with more than her 
 usual tenderness of manner, and imprinting a long kiss on 
 his bald head. "Good morning. Miles," stretching towards 
 me a hand, but averting her face, as if afraid it might re- 
 veal too much when exposed fully to my anxious and inquir- 
 ing gaze. " Grace passed a pretty quiet night, and is, I 
 think, a little less disturbed this morning than she was 
 yesterday." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 95 
 
 Neither of us answered or questioned the dear nurse. 
 What a breakfast was that, compared to so many hundreds 
 in which I had shared at that very table, and in that same 
 room! Three of the accustomed faces were there, it is true; 
 all the appliances were familiar, some dating as far back as 
 the time of the first Miles ; Romeo, now a gray-headed and 
 wrinkled negro, was in his usual place; but Chloe, who was 
 accustomed to pass often between her young mistress and 
 a certain closet, at that meal, which never seemed to have all 
 we wanted arranged on the table at first, was absent, as was 
 that precious " young mistress " herself. " Gracious Provi- 
 dence!" I mentally ejaculated, "is it thy will it should 
 ever be thus? Am I never again to see those dove-like eyes 
 turned on me in sisterly affection from the head of my table, 
 as I have so often seen them, on hundreds and hundreds of 
 occasions?" Lucy's spirits had sometimes caused her to 
 laugh merrily; and her musical voice once used to mingle 
 with Rupert's and my own morfe manly and deeper notes, in 
 something like audible mirth; not that Lucy was ever bois- 
 terous or loud; but, in early girlhood, she had been gay and 
 animated, to a degree that often blended with the noisier 
 clamor of us boys. With Grace, this had never happened. 
 She seldom spoke, except in moments when the rest were 
 still; and her laugh was rarely audible, though so often 
 heartfelt and joyous. It may seem strange to those who 
 have never suffered the pang of feeling that such a custom- 
 ary circle was broken up forever ; but, that morning, the first 
 in which I keenly felt that my sister was lost to me, I act- 
 ually missed her graceful, eloquent silence! 
 
 "Miles," said Lucy, as she rose from the table, tears 
 trembling on her eyelids as she spoke, "half an hour hence 
 come to the family room. Grace wishes to see you there 
 this morning, and I have not been able to deny her request. 
 She is weak, but thinks the visit will do her good. Do not 
 fail to be punctual, as^ waiting might distress her. Good 
 morning, dearest papa ; when I want you^ I will send for you." 
 
96 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Lucy left us with these ominous notices, and I felt the 
 necessity of going on the lawn for air. I walked my half 
 hour out, and returned to the house in time to be punctual 
 to the appointment. Chloe met me at the door, and led the 
 way in silence towards the family room. Her hand was no 
 sooner laid on the latch than Lucy appeared, beckoning me 
 to enter. I found Grace reclining on that small settee, or 
 causeuse^ on which we had held our first interview, looking 
 pallid and uneasy, but still looking lovely and as ethereal 
 as ever. She held out a hand affectionately, and then I saw 
 her glance towards Lucy, as if asking to be left with me 
 alone. As for myself, I could not speak. Taking my old 
 place, I drew my sister's head on my bosom, and sat hold- 
 ing it in silence for many painful minutes. In that position 
 I could conceal the tears which forced themselves from my 
 eyes, it exceeding all my powers to repress these evidences 
 of human grief. As I took my place, the figure of Lucy 
 disappeared, and the door closed. 
 
 I never knew how long a time Grace and I continued in 
 that tender attitude. I was not in a state of mind to note 
 such a fact, and have since striven hard to forget most that 
 occurred in that solemn interview. After a lapse of so 
 many years, however, I find memory painfully accurate on 
 all the leading circumstances, though it was impossible to 
 recall a point of which I took no heed at the moment. Such 
 things only as made an impression is it in my power to 
 relate. 
 
 When Grace gently, and I might add faintly, raised 
 herself from my bosom, she turned on me eyes that were 
 filled with a kind anxiety on my account, rather than her 
 own. 
 
 "Brother," she said, earnestly, "the will of God must be 
 submitted to; I am very, very ill — broken in pieces— I grow 
 weaker every hour. It is not right to conceal such a truth 
 from ourselves, or from each other." 
 
 I made no reply, although she evidently paused to give 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 97 
 
 me an opportunity to speak. I could not have uttered a 
 syllable to have saved my life. The pause was impressive, 
 rather than long. 
 
 " I have sent for you, dearest Miles," my sister continued, 
 " not that I think it probable I shall be called away soon or 
 suddenly. God will spare me for a little while, I humbly 
 trust, in order to temper the blow to those I love ; but he is 
 about to call me to him, and we must all be prepared for it; 
 you, and dear, dear Lucy, and my beloved guardian, as well 
 as myself. I have not sent for you even to tell you this; 
 for Lucy gives me reason to believe you expect the sepa- 
 ration ; but I wish to speak to you on a subject that is very 
 near my heart, while I have strength and fortitude to speak 
 on it at all. Promise me, dearest, to be calm, and to listen 
 patiently." 
 
 " Your slightest wish will be a law to me, beloved, most 
 precious sister; I shall listen as if we were in our days of 
 childish confidence and happiness — though I fear those days 
 are never to return ! " 
 
 " Feel not thus, Miles, my noble-hearted, manly brother. 
 Heaven will not desert you, unless you desert your God; it 
 does not desert me, but an'gels beckon me to its bliss ! Were 
 it not for you and Lucy, and my dear, dear guardian, the 
 hour of my departure would be a moment of pure felicity. 
 But we will not talk of this now. You must prepare your- 
 self, Miles, to hear me patiently, and to be indulgent to my 
 last wishes, even should they seem unreasonable to your 
 mind at first." 
 
 " I have told you, Grace, that a request of yours will be 
 a law to me; have no hesitation, therefore in letting me 
 know any, or all your wishes." 
 
 "Let us, then, speak of worldly things; for the last time, 
 I trust, my brother. Sincerely do I hope that this will be 
 the last occasion on which I shall ever be called to allude 
 to them. This duty discharged, all that will remain to me 
 on earth will be the love I bear my friends. This Heaven 
 7 
 
98 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 itself will excuse, as I shall strive not to let it lessen that I 
 bear my God." 
 
 Grace paused, and I sat wondering what was to follow, 
 though touched to the heart by her beautiful resignation to 
 a fate that to most so young would seem hard to be borne. 
 
 " Miles, my brother," she continued, looking at me anx- 
 iously, " we have not spoken much of your success in your 
 last voyage, though I have understood that you have mate- 
 rially increased your means." 
 
 "It has quite equalled my expectations; and, rich in my 
 ship and ready money, I am content, to say nothing of Claw- 
 bonny. Do what you will with your own, therefore, my sis- 
 ter; not a wish of mine shall ever grudge a dollar; I would 
 rather not be enriched by your loss. Make your bequests 
 freely, and I shall look on each and all of them as so many 
 memorials of your affectionate heart and many virtues." 
 
 Grace's cheeks flushed, and I could see that she was ex- 
 tremely gratified, though still tremblingly anxious. 
 
 "You doubtless remember that by our father's will, Miles, 
 my property becomes yours, if I die without children before 
 I reach the age of twenty-one; while yours would have been 
 mine under the same circumstances. As I am barely 
 twenty, it is out of my power to make a legal will." 
 
 " It is in your power to make one that shall be equally 
 binding, Grace. I will go this instant for pen, ink, and 
 paper; and, as you dictate, will I write a will that shall be 
 even more binding than one that might come within the 
 rules of the law." 
 
 " Nay, brother, that is unnecessary ; all I wish I have 
 already said in a letter addressed to yourself; and which, 
 should you now approve of it, will be found among my 
 papers as a memorandum. But there should be no misap- 
 prehension between you and me, dearest Miles. I do not 
 wish you even fully to consent to my wishes now; take 
 time to consider, and let your judgment have as much in- 
 fluence on your decision as your own excellent heart." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 99 
 
 ** I am as ready to decide at this moment as I shall be a year 
 hence. It is enough for me that you wish the thing done, to 
 have it done, sister." 
 
 " Bless you, bless you, brother," said Grace, affectionately 
 pressing my hand to her heart ; '' not so much that you con- 
 sent to do as I wish, as for the spirit and manner in which 
 you comply. Still, as I ask no trifle, it is proper that I re- 
 lease you from all pledges here given, and allow you time 
 for reflection. Then, it is also proper you should know the 
 full extent of what you promise." 
 
 " It is enough for me that it will be in my power to per- 
 form what you desire; further than that I make no stipula- 
 tion." 
 
 I could see that Grace was profoundly struck with this 
 proof of my attachment, but her own sense of right was too 
 just and active to suffer the matter to rest there. 
 
 " I must explain further," she added. " Mr. Hardinge has 
 been a most faithful steward, and by means of economy dur- 
 ing my long minority, the little cost that has attended my 
 manner of living, and some fortunate investments that have 
 been made of interest-money, I find myself a good deal 
 richer than I had supposed. In relinquishing my property, 
 Miles, you will relinquish rather more than two-and-twenty 
 thousand dollars, or quite twelve hundred a year. There 
 ought to be no misapprehensions on this subject between us, 
 least of all at such a moment." 
 
 " I wish it were more, my sister, since it gives you pleas- 
 ure to bestow it. If it will render you any happier to per- 
 fect any of your plans, take ten thousand of my own, and 
 add to the sum which is now yours. I would increase, 
 rather than lessen your means of doing good." 
 
 " Miles, Miles," said Grace, dreadfully agitated, " talk not 
 thus — it almost shakes my purpose! But no, listen now to 
 my wishes, for I feel this will be the last time I shall ever 
 dare to speak on the subject* In the first place, I wish you 
 to purchase some appropriate ornament, of the value of five 
 
lOO MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 hundred dollars, and present it to Lucy as a memorial of 
 her friend. Give also one thousand dollars in money to 
 Mr. Hardinge, to be distributed in charity. A letter to him 
 on the subject, and one to Lucy, will also be found among 
 my papers. There will still remain enough to make suit- 
 able presents to the slaves, and leave the sum of twenty 
 thousand dollars entire and untouched." 
 
 "And what shall I do with these twenty thousand dollars, 
 sister.^ " I asked, Grace hesitating to proceed. 
 
 "That sum, dearest Miles, I wish to go to Rupert. You 
 know that he is totally without fortune, with the habits of 
 a man of estate. The little I can leave him will not make 
 him rich, but it may be the means of making him happy and 
 respectable. I trust Lucy will add to it when she comes of 
 age, and the future will be happier for them all than the 
 past." 
 
 My sister spoke quick, and was compelled to pause for 
 breath. As for myself, the reader can better imagine than 
 I can describe my sensations, which were of a character al- 
 most to overwhelm me. The circumstance that I felt pre- 
 cluded from making any serious objections, added to the 
 intensity of my suffering, left me in a state of grief, regret, 
 indignation, wonder, pity, and tenderness, that it is wholly 
 out of my power to delineate. Here, then, was the tender- 
 ness of the woman enduring to the last, caring for the heart- 
 less wretch who had destroyed the very springs of life in 
 her physical being, while it crushed the moral like a worm 
 beneath the foot, yet bequeathing with her dying breath, as 
 it might be, all the worldly goods in her possession, to ad- 
 minister to his selfishness and vanity! 
 
 " I know you must think this strange, brother,'' resumed 
 Grace, who doubtless saw how utterly unable I was to re- 
 ply; "but I shall not die at peace with myself without it. 
 Unless he possesses some marked assurance of my forgive- 
 ness, my death will render Rupert miserable; with such a 
 marked assurance, he will be confident of possessing my 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. TO I 
 
 pardon and my prayers. Then, both he and Emily are pen- 
 niless, I fear, and their lives may be rendered blanks for 
 the want of the little money it is in my power to bestow. 
 At the proper time, Lucy, I feel confident, will add her 
 part, and you, who remain behind me, can all look on my 
 grave, and bless its humble tenant! " 
 
 " Angel ! " I murmured — " this is too much ! Can you 
 suppose Rupert will accept this money? " 
 
 111 as I thought of Rupert Hardinge, I could not bring 
 my mind to believe he was so base as to receive money com- 
 ing from such a source, and with such a motive. Grace, 
 however, viewed the matter differently ; not that she attached 
 anything discreditable to Rupert's compliance, for her own 
 womanly tenderness, long and deeply rooted attachment, 
 made it appear to her eyes more as an act of compliance 
 with her own last behest, than as the act of degrading mean- 
 ness it would unquestionably appear to be, to all the rest of 
 the world. 
 
 " How can he refuse this to me, coming to him, as the 
 request will, from my grave?" rejoined the lovely enthu- 
 siast. " He will owe it to me; he will owe it to our former 
 affection — for he once loved me, Miles; nay, he loved me 
 even more than you ever did, or could, dearest — much as I 
 know you love me." 
 
 " By Heavens, Grace,'' I exclaimed, unable to control my- 
 self any longer, " that is a fearful mistake. Rupert Har- 
 dinge is incapable of loving anything but himself; he has 
 never been worthy of occupying the most idle moment of a 
 heart true and faithful as yours." 
 
 These words escaped me under an impulse I found en- 
 tirely impossible to control. Scarcely were they uttered, ere 
 I deeply regretted the indiscretion. Grace looked at me 
 imploringly, turned as pale as death, and trembled all over, 
 as if on the verge of dissolution. I took her in my arms, I 
 implored her pardon, I promised to command myself in 
 future, and I repeated the most solemn assurances of com- 
 
I02 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 plying with her wishes to the very letter. I am not certain 
 I could have found it in my heart not to have recalled my 
 promise, but for the advantage my sister obtained over me, 
 by means of this act of weakness. There was something 
 so exceedingly revolting to me in the whole affair, that even 
 Grace's holy weakness failed to sanctify the act in my eyes; 
 at least so far as Rupert was concerned. I owe it to my- 
 self to add that not a selfish thought mingled with my re- 
 luctance, which proceeded purely from the distaste I felt to 
 seeing Lucy's brother, and a man for whom I had once 
 entertained a boyish regard, making himself so thoroughly 
 an object of contempt. As I entertained serious doubts of 
 even Rupert's sinking so low, I felt the necessity of speak- 
 ing to my sister on the subject of such a contingency. 
 
 " One might hesitate about accepting your money, after 
 all, dearest sister," I said; "and it is proper you give me 
 directions what I am to do, in the event of Rupert's declin- 
 ing the gift." 
 
 " I think that is little probable. Miles," answered Grace, 
 who lived and died under a species of hallucination on the 
 subject of her early lover's real character. " Rupert may not 
 have been able to command his affections, but he cannot cease 
 to feel a sincere friendship for me ; to remember our ancient 
 confidence and intimacy. He will receive the bequest, as 
 you would take one from dear Xucy," added my sister, a 
 painful-looking smile illuminating that angelic expression 
 of countenance to which I have so often alluded ; " or, as 
 that of a sister. You would not refuse such a thing to 
 Lucy's dying request, and why should Rupert to mine? " 
 
 Poor Grace ! Little did she see the immense difference 
 there was in my relation to Lucy and that which Rupert 
 bore to her. I could not explain this difference, however, 
 but merely assented to her wishes, renewing, for the fourth 
 or fifth time, my pledges of performing with fidelity all she 
 asked at my hands. Grace then put into my hands an un- 
 sealed letter addressed to Rupert, which she desired me to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. IO3 
 
 read when alone, and which I was to have delivered with the 
 legacy or donation of money. 
 
 " Let me rest once more on your bosom, Miles," said 
 Grace, reclining her head in my arms, quite exhausted under 
 the reaction of the excitement she had felt while urging her 
 request. " I feel happier, at this moment, than I have been 
 for a long time, yet, my increasing weakness admonishes me 
 it cannot last long. Miles, darling, you must remember all 
 our sainted mother taught you in childhood, and you will 
 not mourn over my loss. Could I leave you united to one 
 who understood and appreciated your worth, I should die 
 contented. But you will be left alone, poor Miles; for a 
 time, at least, you will mourn for me." 
 
 " Forever — long as life lasts, beloved Grace," I murmured, 
 almost in her ear. 
 
 Exhaustion kept my sister quiet for a quarter of an hour, 
 though I felt an occasional pressure of her hands, both of 
 which held one of mine; and I could hear words asking 
 blessings and consolation for me, whispered, from time to 
 time, in heartfelt petitions to Heaven. As she gained 
 strength by repose, my sister felt the desire to continue the 
 discourse revive. I begged her not to incur the risk of 
 further fatigue, but she answered, smiling affectionately in 
 my face : 
 
 "Rest! There will be no permanent rest for me, until 
 laid by the side of my parents. Miles, do your thoughts 
 ever recur to that picture of the future that is so precious to 
 the believer, and which leads us to hope, if not absolutely 
 to confide in it as a matter of faith, that we may recognize 
 each other in the next state of being, and that in a commun- 
 ion still sweeter than any of this life, since it will be a com- 
 munion free from all sin and governed by holiness? " 
 
 "We sailors give little heed to these matters, Grace; but 
 I feel that, in future, the idea you have just mentioned will 
 be full of consolation to me." 
 
 "Remember, my best- beloved brother, it is only the 
 
I04 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 blessed that can enjoy such a recognition — to the accursed 
 it must add an additional weight to the burden of their woe." 
 
 " Felix trembled ! " The thought that even this chance 
 of again meeting my sister, and of communing with her in 
 the form in which I had ever seen and loved her might be 
 lost, came in aid of other good resolutions that the state of 
 the family had quickened in my heart. I thought, however, 
 it might be well not to let Grace lead the conversation to 
 such subjects, after all that had just passed, repose becom- 
 ing necessary to her again. I therefore proposed calling 
 Lucy, in order that she might be carried to her own room. 
 I say carried ; for, by a remark that fell from Chloe, I had 
 ascertained that this was the mode in which she had been 
 brought to the place of meeting. Grace acquiesced; but 
 while we waited for Chloe to answer the bell, she continued 
 to converse. 
 
 "I have not exacted of you. Miles," my sister continued, 
 "any promise to keep my bequest a secret from the world; 
 your own sense of delicacy would do that; but I will make 
 it a condition that you do not speak of it to either Mr. Har- 
 dinge or Lucy. They may possibly raise weak objections, 
 particularly the last, who has, and ever has had, some ex- 
 aggerated opinions about receiving money. Even in her 
 days of poverty, and poor as she was, you know, notwith- 
 standing our true love for each other, and close intimacy, I 
 never could induce Lucy to receive a cent. Nay, so scrupu- 
 lous has she been, that the little presents which friends con- 
 stantly give and receive, she would decline, because she had 
 not the means of offering them in return." 
 
 I remembered the gold the dear girl had forced on me, 
 when I first went to sea, and could have kneeled at her feet 
 and called her " blessed." 
 
 " And this did not make you love and respect Lucy the 
 less, my sister? But do not answer; so much conversing 
 must distress you." 
 
 " Not at all, Miles. I speak without suffering, nor does 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. IO5 
 
 the little talking I do enfeeble me in the least. When I 
 appear exhausted, it is from the feelings which accompany 
 our discourse. I talk much, very much, with dear Lucy, 
 who hears me with more patience than yourself, brother! " 
 
 I knew that this remark applied to Grace's wish to dwell 
 on the unknown future, and did not receive it as a reproach 
 in any other sense. As she seemed calm, however, I was 
 willing to indulge her wish to converse with me, so long 
 as she dwelt on subjects that did not agitate her. Speaking 
 of her hopes of heaven had a contrary effect, and I made no 
 further opposition. 
 
 " Lucy's hesitation to be under the obligations you men- 
 tion did not lessen her in your esteem? " I repeated. 
 
 " You know it could not. Miles. Lucy is a dear, good 
 girl; and the more intimately one knows her, the more cer- 
 tain is one to esteem her. I have every reason to bless 
 and pray for Lucy; still, I desire you not to make either 
 her or her father acquainted with my bequest." 
 
 " Rupert would hardly conceal such a thing from so near 
 and dear friends." 
 
 " Let Rupert judge of the propriety of that for himself. 
 Kiss me, brother; do not ask to see me again to-day, for I 
 have much to arrange with Lucy ; to-morrow I shall expect 
 a long visit. God bless you, my own, dear — my only 
 brother, and ever have you in his holy keeping! " 
 
 I left the room as Chloe entered; and, in threading the 
 long passage that led to the apartment which was appropri- 
 ated to my own particular purposes, as an office, cabinet, or 
 study, I met Lucy near the door of the latter. I could see 
 she had been weeping, and she followed me into the room. 
 
 " What do you think of her. Miles? " the dear girl asked, 
 uttering the words in a tone so low and plaintive as to say 
 all that she anticipated herself. 
 
 " We shall lose her, Lucy; yes, 'tis God's pleasure to call 
 her to himself." 
 
 Had worlds depended on the effort, I could not have got 
 
I06 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 out another syllable. The feelings which had been so long 
 pent up in Grace's presence broke out, and I am not ashamed 
 to say that I wept and sobbed like an infant. 
 
 How kind, how woman-like, how affectionate did Lucy 
 show herself at that bitter moment. She said but little, 
 though I think I overheard her murmuring "poor Miles!" 
 — "poor, dear Miles!" — "what a blow it must be to a 
 brother! "—"God will temper this loss to him! " and other 
 similar expressions. She took one of my hands and pressed 
 it warmly between both her own ; held it there for two or 
 three minutes ; hovered round me, as the mother keeps near 
 the slumbering infant when illness renders rest necessary; 
 and seemed more like a spirit sympathizing with my grief 
 than a mere observer of its violence. In reflecting on what 
 then passed, months afterward, it appeared to me that Lucy 
 had entirely forgotten herself, her own causes of sorrow, her 
 own feelings as respected Grace, in the single wish to solace 
 me. But this was ever her character; this was her very 
 nature ; to live out of herself as it might be, and in the ex- 
 istences of those whom she esteemed or loved. During this 
 scene, Lucy lost most of the restraints which womanhood 
 and more matured habits had placed on her deportment; 
 and she behaved towards me with the innocent familiarity 
 that marked our intercourse down to the time I sailed in 
 the Crisis. It is true, I was too dreadfully agitated at first 
 to take heed of all that passed; but, I well remember, that, 
 before leaving me in obedience to a summons from Grace, 
 she laid her head affectionately on mine, and kissed the 
 curls with which nature had so profusely covered the last. 
 I thought, at the time, notwithstanding, that the salute 
 would have been on the forehead, or cheek, three years be- 
 fore, or previously to her acquaintance with Drewett. 
 
 I was a long time in regaining entire self-command; but, 
 when I did, I opened my sister's letter to Rupert, agreeably 
 to her request, and perused it thrice without a pause, even 
 to reflect. It was conceived in these words : — 
 
miles wallingford. lo/ 
 
 "My Dearest Rupert — 
 
 "God, in his infinite and inscrutable wisdom, when you 
 read this letter, will have seen fit to call me to himself. 
 Let not this seeming loss, in any manner, afflict you, my 
 friend; for I feel the humble assurance that I shall reap the 
 full benefit of the Saviour's great sacrific. I could not have 
 been happy in this life, Rupert; and it is a mercy that I am 
 taken, thus early, to a better. It grieves me to part from 
 your excellent father, from our precious and rightfully be- 
 loved Lucy, and from dear, dear Miles. This is the last 
 tribute I pay to nature, and I hope it will be pardoned for 
 its character. There i? a strong hope within me, that my 
 death will be sanctified to the benefit of my friends. With 
 this view, and this view only, beloved Rupert, I wish you to 
 remember it. In all other respects let it be forgotten. You 
 have found it impossible to command your affections, and 
 worlds would not have tempted me to become your wife 
 without possessing all your heart. I pray daily, almost 
 hourly" — tears had evidently blotted this portion of the 
 letter — "for you and Emily. Live together, and make each 
 other happy. She is a sweet girl; has enjoyed advantages 
 that Clawbonny could not bestow, and which will contribute 
 to your gratification. In order that you may sometimes 
 think of me " — poor Grace was not aware of this contradic- 
 tion in her requests — " Miles will send you a legacy that I 
 leave you. Accept it as a little fortune with Emily. I 
 wish sincerely, it were much larger; but you will not over- 
 look the intention, and forget the insufficiency of the sum. 
 Small as it is, I trust it will enable you to marry at once, 
 and Lucy's heart may be confided in for the rest. 
 
 "Farewell, Rupert — I do not say, farewell Emily; for I 
 think this letter, as well as its object, had better remain a 
 secret between you and me, and my brother — but I wish 
 your future wife all earthly happiness, and an end as full 
 of hope, as that which attdhds the death-bed of your affec- 
 tionate "Grace Wallingford." 
 
I08 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Oh! woman, woman, what are ye not, when duly pro- 
 tected and left to the almost divine impulses of your gen- 
 erous natures ! What may ye not become, when rendered 
 mercenary and envious by too close a contact with those 
 worldly interests which are never admitted to an ascendency 
 without destroying all your moral beauty ! 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 And the beautiful, whose record 
 
 Is the verse that cannot die, 
 
 They too are gone, with their glorious bloom, 
 
 From the love of human eye. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 I CANNOT dwell minutely on the events' of the week that suc- 
 ceeded. Grace sunk daily, hourly ; and the medical advice 
 that was obtained, more as a duty than with any hope of its 
 benefiting the patient, failed of assisting her. Mr. Har- 
 dinge saw the invalid often, and I was admitted to her room 
 each day, where she would lie reclining on my bosom for 
 hours at a time, seemingly fond of this innocent indulgence 
 of her affections, on the eve of her final departure. As it 
 was out of the question that my sister should again visit the 
 family room, the causeuse was brought into her chamber, 
 where it was made to perform the office to which it had been 
 several times devoted in its proper apartment since my re- 
 turn from sea. That venerable chair still exists, and I often 
 pass thoughtful hours in it in my old age, musing on the 
 past, and recalling the different scenes and conversations of 
 which it could tell, did it possess consciousness and the 
 faculty of speech. 
 
 Mr. Hardinge officiated in his own church, agreeably to 
 his intention, on the succeeding Sunday. Lucy remained 
 with her friend, and I make no doubt their spirits devoutly 
 communed with ours the while, for I mastered sufficient 
 fortitude to be present at St. Michael's. I could observe 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. IO9 
 
 an earnest sympathy in every member of the little congre- 
 gation, and tears fell from nearly every eye when the prayer 
 for the sick was read. Mr. Hardinge remained at the rec- 
 tory for the further duties of the day, but I rode home im- 
 mediately after morning service, too uneasy to remain 
 absent from the house longer than was necessary, at such a 
 moment. As my horse trotted slowly homeward, he over- 
 took Neb, who was walking towards Clawbonny with an air 
 so different from his customary manner, I could not help 
 remarking it. Neb was a muscular, active black, and 
 usually walked as if his legs were all springs; but he 
 moved along now so heavily, that I could not but see some 
 weight upon the spirits had produced this influence on the 
 body. The change was, naturally, enough, attributed to 
 the state of affairs with Chloe ; and I felt disposed to say a 
 word to my faithful slave, who had been unavoidably over- 
 looked in the pressure of sorrow that had weighed me down 
 for the last ten days. I spoke to the poor fellow as cheer- 
 fully as I could, as I came up, and endeavored to touch on 
 such subjects as I thought might interest without troubling 
 him. 
 
 " This is a famous windfall that has crossed Mr. Marble's 
 track, Neb," I said, pulling up in order to go a short dis- 
 tance at an even pace with my brother tar. " As nice an 
 old woman for a mother, as pretty a little girl for a niece, 
 and as snug a haven to moor in at the end of the voyage, 
 as any old worn-out sea-dog could or ought to wish." 
 
 "Yes, sir, Masser Mile," Neb answered, as I fancied, in 
 the manner of one who was thinking of something different 
 from what he said; "yes, sir, Mr. Marble a reg'lar sea-dog." 
 
 " And as such not the less entitled to have a good old 
 mother, a pretty niece, and a snug home." 
 
 "No, sir; none de wuss for bin' sea-dog, all must allow. 
 Nebberdeless, Masser Mile, I sometime wish you and I 
 nebber hab see salt water. 
 
 " That is almost as much as wishing we never looked 
 
no MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 down the Hudson from the hills and banks of Clawbonny, 
 boy ; the river itself being salt not far below us. You are 
 thinking of Chloe, and fancying that had you stayed at home 
 your chance of getting into her good graces would have been 
 better." 
 
 " No, Masser Mile ; no, sir. Nobody at Clawbonny t'ink 
 just now, of anything but deat'." 
 
 I started in surprise. Mr. Hardinge kept everything like 
 exaggeration and those physical excitements which it is so 
 much the habit of certain sects to mistake for religious im- 
 pulses, even from the negroes of the Clawbonny property. 
 Neb's speech sounded more like an innovation of this na- 
 ture than I had ever heard among my people ; and I looked 
 hard at the fellow for an instant before I answered. 
 
 " I am afraid I understand you, Neb," was my reply, after 
 a meaning pause. " It is a relief to me to find that my peo- 
 ple retain all their affections for the children of their old 
 master and mistress." 
 
 " We hard-hearted, indeed, sir, if we don't. Ah ! Masser 
 Mile, you and I see many dreadful t'ing togeder, but we 
 nebber see anything like dis! " 
 
 Neb's dark cheek was glistening with tears as he spoke, 
 and I spurred my horse lest my own manhood might give 
 way there in the road, and in the presence of those who were 
 fast approaching. Why Neb had expressed sorrow for hav- 
 ing ever gone to sea, I could not account for in any other 
 manner than by supposing that he imagined Grace was, in 
 some manner, a sufferer by my absence from home. 
 
 When I reached the house, not a soul was visible. The 
 men had all gone to church, and were to be seen in the dis- 
 tance, coming along the road, singly, and in a melancholy 
 manner, not a sign of the customary thoughtless merriment 
 of a negro escaping a single individual among them ; but it 
 was usual for some of the black Venuses to be seen sunning 
 themselves at that season, exhibiting their summer finery to 
 each other and their admirers. Not one was now visible. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. Ill 
 
 All the front of the house, the lawn, the kitchens, of which 
 there were no less than three, and the kitchen yards; in 
 short, every familiar haunt of the dwelling was deserted and 
 empty. This boded evil ; and, throwing the bridle over a 
 post, I walked hurriedly towards the part of the building, or 
 buildings^ would be a better word, inhabited by Grace. 
 
 As I entered the passage which communicated with my 
 sister's own room, the departure from ordinary appearances 
 was explained. Six or seven of the negresses were kneeling 
 near the door, and I could hear the low, solemn, earnest 
 voice of Lucy, reading some of the collects and other prayers 
 suited to the sick-chamber and to the wants of a parting 
 soul. Lucy's voice was music itself, but never before had 
 it sounded so plaintively sweet. The lowest intonation was 
 distinctly audible, as if the dear, devout creature felt that 
 the Being she addressed was not to be approached in any 
 other manner, while the trembling earnestness of the tones 
 betrayed the depth of feeling with which each syllable es- 
 caped from the heart. Talk of liturgies impairing the fervor 
 of prayer! This maybe the fact with those who are im- 
 mersed in themselves while communing with God, and can- 
 not consent even to pray without placing their own thoughts 
 and language, however ill-digested and crude, uppermost in 
 the business of the moment. Do not such persons know 
 that, as respects united worship, their own prayers are, to all 
 intents and purposes, a formulary to their listeners, with the 
 disadvantage of being received without preparation or direc- 
 tion to the mind? — nay, too often substituting a critical and 
 prurient curiosity for humble and intelligent prayer? In 
 these later times, when Christianity is reassuming the char- 
 acter of the quarrels of sects, and, as an old man who has 
 lived, and hopes to die, in communion with the Anglo- 
 American church, I do not wish to exculpate my own par- 
 ticular branch of the Catholic body from blame ; but, in 
 these later times, when Christianity is returning to its truc- 
 ulency, forgetful of the chiefest of virtues, charity, I have 
 
112 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 often recalled the scene of that solemn noontide, and asked 
 myself the question, " if any man could have heard Lucy, 
 as I did, on that occasion, concluding with the petition which 
 Christ himself gave to his disciples as a comprehensive 
 rule, if not absolutely as a formulary, and imagine the heart 
 could not fully accompany words that had been previously 
 prescribed? " 
 
 No sooner had Lucy's solemn tones ceased than I passed 
 through the crowd of weeping and still kneeling blacks, and 
 entered my sister's room. Grace was reclining in an easy 
 chair; her eyes closed, her hands clasped together, but lying 
 on her knees, and her whole attitude and air proclaiming a 
 momentary, but total abstraction of the spirit. I do not 
 think she heard my footstep at all, and I stood at her side 
 an instant, uncertain whether to let her know of my pres- 
 ence, or not. At this instant I caught the eye of Lucy, who 
 seemed intent on the wish to speak to me. Grace had three 
 or four small rooms that communicated with each other in 
 her part of the dwelling ; and into one of these, which served 
 as a sort of boudoir^ though the name was then unknown in 
 America, I followed the dear girl, whose speaking but sad 
 look had bidden me to do so. 
 
 " Is my father near at hand ? " Lucy asked, with an inter- 
 est I did not understand, since she must have known he in- 
 tended to remain at his own residence, in readiness for the 
 afternoon service. 
 
 "He is not. You forget he has to attend to evening 
 prayers." 
 
 " I have sent for him. Miles," taking one of my hands in 
 both her own, with the tenderness a mother would manifest 
 to a very dear child. " Dear Miles, you must summon all 
 your fortitude." 
 
 " Is my sister worse ? " I demanded, huskily, for, prepared 
 as I was for the result, I was not expecting it by any means 
 so soon. 
 
 ** I cannot call it worse, Miles, to be about to be called 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. II3 
 
 away to God in such a frame of mind. But it is proper I 
 should tell you all. Rather less than an hour since, Grace 
 told me that the hour was at hand. She has the knowledge of 
 her approaching end, though she would not let me send for 
 you. She said you would have ample time to witness it all. 
 For my father, however, I have sent, and he must soon be here." 
 
 "Almighty Providence! Lucy, do you really think we 
 shall lose Grace so soon ? " 
 
 " As it is the will of God to take her from us, Miles, 1 
 can scarce repine that her end should be so easy, and, in all 
 respects, so tranquil." 
 
 So long as memory is granted to me, will the picture that 
 Lucy presented at that moment remain vividly impressed on 
 my mind. She loved Grace as a most dear sister; loved her 
 as an affectionate, generous-minded, devoted woman alone 
 can love; and yet, so keenly was she alive to the nature of 
 the communication it was her duty to make, that concern for 
 me alone reigned in her saddened and anxious eye. Her 
 mind had schooled itself to bear its own grief, and meek, 
 believing, and disposed to foresee all that her profound faith 
 taught her to hope, I do believe she considered my sister a 
 subject of envy rather than of regret, though her solicitude 
 on my account was so absorbing. This generous self-denial 
 touched my feelings in more ways than one, enabling me to 
 command myself to a degree that might otherwise have been 
 out of my power, during the few succeeding hours. I felt 
 ashamed to manifest all I endured in the presence of so 
 much meek but pious fortitude, and that exhibited by one 
 whose heart I so well knew to be the very seat of the best 
 human affections. The sad smile that momentarily illumi- 
 nated Lucy's countenance, as she gazed anxiously in my 
 face when speaking, was full of submissive hope and Chris- 
 tian faith. 
 
 " God's will be done," I rather whispered than uttered 
 aloud. " Heaven is a pllce more suited to such a spirit than 
 the abodes of men." 
 8 
 
114 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Lucy pressed my hand, and appeared relieved from a 
 load of intense anxiety by this seeming fortitude. She bade 
 me remain where I was, until she had herself apprised 
 Grace of my return from church. I could see through the 
 open door that the negresses had been directed to retire, 
 and presently I heard the footstep of Mr. Hardinge ap- 
 proaching the room adjoining that in which I then was, and 
 which answered the purpose of a sort of antechamber for 
 those who came to the sick-room from the more public side 
 of the house. I met my excellent old guardian in that 
 apartment, and Lucy was at my side at the next instant. 
 One word from the last sufficed to keep us in this room 
 while she returned to that of Grace. 
 
 " God have mercy on us, my dear boy," the divine ejacu- 
 lated, as much in prayer as in grief; "and I say on us^ as 
 well as on you^ for Grace has ever been dear to me as a 
 child of my own. I knew the blow must come, and have 
 prayed the Lord to prepare us all for it, and to sanctify it to 
 us, old and young, but notwithstanding, death has come *lit- 
 erally ' when no man knoweth. I must have materials for 
 writing, Miles, and you will choose an express for me out of 
 your people ; let the man be ready to mount in half an hour, 
 for I shall not require half that time to prepare my letter." 
 
 " Medical advice is useless, I am afraid, dear sir," I an- 
 swered. " We have Post's directions, and very respectable 
 attendance from our own family physician. Dr. Wurtz, who 
 gave me to understand several days since that he saw no 
 other means of averting the evil we dread than those already 
 adopted. Still, sir, I shall be easier if we can persuade Dr. 
 Bard to cross the river, and have already thought of sending 
 Neb once more on that errand." 
 
 " Do so," returned Mr. Hardinge, drawing towards him a 
 little table on which Dr. Wurtz had written a few prescrip- 
 tions, that were used more for form, I believe, than any ex- 
 pectation of the good they could do, and beginning to write 
 even while talking. " Do so," he added, " and Neb can put 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. II5 
 
 this letter in the post office on the eastern bank of the river, 
 which will be the quickest mode of causing it to reach Ru- 
 pert " 
 
 "Rupert!" I exclaimed, on a key that I instantly re- 
 gretted. 
 
 "Certainly; we can do no less than send for Rupert, 
 Miles. He has ever been like a brother to Grace, and the 
 poor fellow would feel the neglect keenly, did we overlook 
 him on an occasion like this. You seem astonished at my 
 thinking of summoning him to Clawbonny." 
 
 " Rupert is at the Springs, sir, happy in the society of 
 Miss Merton ; would it not be better to leave him where he 
 is?" 
 
 " What would you think, Miles, were Lucy on her death- 
 bed, and we should fail to let you know it? " 
 
 I gazed so wildly at the good old man, I believe, that 
 even his simplicity could not avoid seeing the immense 
 difference between the real and the supposititious case. 
 
 " Very true, poor Miles, very true," Mr. Hardinge added 
 in an apologetic manner ; " I see the weakness of my com- 
 parison, though I was beginning to hope you were already 
 regarding Lucy once more with the eyes of a brother. But 
 Rupert must not be forgotten either, and here is my letter 
 already written." 
 
 "It will be too late, sir," I got out, hoarsely; "my sister 
 cannot survive the day." 
 
 I perceived that Mr. Hardinge was not prepared for this ; 
 his cheek grew pale, and his hand trembled as he sealed the 
 epistle. Still he sent it, as I afterwards discovered. 
 
 "God's will be done!" the excellent divine murmured. 
 " If such should really be his holy will, we ought not to 
 mourn that another humble Christian spirit is called away 
 to the presence of its great Creator ! Rupert can, at least, 
 attend to do honor to all that we can honor of the saint we 
 lose." 
 
 There was no resisting or contending with so much sim- 
 
Il6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 plicity and goodness of heart; and had it been in my pow- 
 er, a summons to the room of Grace called all my thoughts 
 to her. My sister's eyes were now open. I shuddered, felt 
 a sinking of the heart like that produced by despair, as I 
 caught their unearthly or rather their supernatural expres- 
 sion. It was not that anything which indicated death in 
 its more shocking aspects met my look, but simply that I 
 could trace the illumination of a spirit that already felt it- 
 self on the eve of a new state of being, and one that must at 
 least separate all that remained behind from any further 
 communication with itself. I am not certain that I felt no 
 pang at the thought my sister could be entirely happy with- 
 out any participation on my part in her bliss. We are all 
 so selfish that it is hard to say how far even our most inno- 
 cent longings are free from the taint of this feature of our 
 nature. 
 
 But Grace herself could not entirely shake off the ties of 
 kindred and human love so long as her spirit continued in 
 its earthly tenement. So far from this, every glance she 
 cast on one or all of us denoted the fathomless tenderness 
 of her nature, and was filled with its undying affection. She 
 was weak, frightfully so, I fancied, for death appeared to 
 hasten in order to release her as swiftly and easily as possi- 
 ble, yet did her interest in me and in Lucy sustain her suffi- 
 ciently to enable her to impart much that she wished to 
 say. In obedience to a sign from her, I knelt at her side, 
 and received her head on my bosom as near as possible in 
 that attitude in which we had already passed hours since her 
 illness. Mr. Hardinge hovered over us like a ministering 
 spirit, uttering in a suppressed and yet distinct voice some 
 of the sublimest of those passages from Scripture that are 
 the most replete with consolation to the parting spirit. As 
 for Lucy, to me she seemed to be precisely in that spot 
 where she was most wanted, and often did Grace's eyes turn 
 towards her with gleamings of gratitude and love. 
 
 " The hour is near, brother," Grace whispered, as she lay 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 11/ 
 
 on my bosom. "Remember, I die asking forgiveness as 
 much for those who may have done me wrong, as for myself. 
 Forget nothing that you have promised me; do nothing to 
 cause Lucy and her father sorrow." 
 
 " I understand you, sister," was my low answer. " De- 
 pend on all I have said — all you can wish.^^ 
 
 A gentle pressure of the hand was the token of content- 
 ment with which this assurance was received. 
 
 From that moment it seemed to me that Grace was less 
 than usual attached to the things of the world. Neverthe- 
 less, her interest in those she loved, and who loved her, con- 
 tinued to the last. 
 
 " Let all the slaves that wish to see me, enter," Grace 
 said, rousing herself to perform a trying but necessary duty. 
 " I never can repay them for all they have done for me; but 
 I trust them to you. Miles, with confidence." 
 
 Lucy glided from the room, and in a few minutes the long 
 train of dark faces was seen approaching the door. The 
 grief of these untutored beings, like their mirth, is usually 
 loud and vociferous ; but Lucy, dear, considerate, energetic 
 Lucy — energetic even in the midst of a sorrow that nearly 
 crushed her to the earth — had foreseen all this, and the 
 blacks were admitted only on the condition of their preserv- 
 ing a command over themselves in the interview. 
 
 Grace spoke to every one of the females, taking leave of 
 each calmly and with some useful and impressive admoni- 
 tion, while the older men were also noticed personally. 
 
 " Go, and rejoice that I am so soon released from the 
 cares of this world," she said, when the sad ceremony was 
 over. " Pray for me, and for yourselves. My brother knows 
 my wishes in your behalf, and will see them executed. God 
 bless you, my friends, and have you in his holy keeping." 
 
 So great was the ascendency Lucy had obtained over these 
 poor simple creatures during the short time they had been 
 under her mild but consistent rule, that each and all left the 
 room as quiet as children, awe-struck by the solemnity of 
 
Il8 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the scene. Still, the oldest and most wrinkled of their 
 cheeks were wet with tears, and it was only by the most 
 extraordinary efforts that they were enabled to repress the 
 customary outbreakings of sorrow. I had gone to a window 
 to conceal my own feelings after this leave-taking, when a 
 rustling in the bushes beneath it caught my ear. Looking 
 out, there lay Neb, flat on his face, his Herculean frame 
 extended at full length, his hands actually griping the earth 
 under the mental agony he endured, and yet the faithful 
 fellow would not even utter a groan, lest it might reach his 
 young mistress's ears, and disquiet her last moments. I 
 afterwards ascertained he had taken that post in order that he 
 might learn from time to time, by means of signs from Chloe, 
 how things proceeded in the chamber above. Lucy soon 
 recalled me to my old post, Grace having expressed a wish 
 to that effect. 
 
 "It will be but an hour, and we shall all be together 
 again," Grace said, startling us all by the clearness and dis- 
 tinctness of her enunciation. " The near approach of death 
 places us on a height whence we can see the entire world 
 and its vanities at a single view." 
 
 I pressed the dying girl closer to my heart, a species of 
 involuntary declaration of the difficulty I experienced in re- 
 garding her loss with the religious philosophy she was 
 inculcating. 
 
 " Mourn not for me, Miles," she continued — " yet I know 
 you will mourn. But God will temper the blow, and in his 
 mercy may cause it to profit you forever." 
 
 I did not, could not answer. I saw Grace endeavoring to 
 get a look at my countenance, as if to observe the effect of 
 the scene. By my assistance she was so placed as to obtain 
 her wish. The sight, I believe, aroused feelings that had 
 begun to yield to the influence of the last great change; for, 
 when my sister spoke next, it was with a tenderness of ac- 
 cent that proved how hard it is for those who are deeply 
 affectionate to lose their instincts. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. II9 
 
 "Poor Miles! I almost wish we could go together! 
 You have been a dear, good brother to me." (What a 
 sweet consolation I afterwards found in these words!) "It 
 grieves me to leave you so nearly alone in the world. But 
 you will have Mr. Hardinge, and our Lucy " 
 
 The pause, and the look that succeeded, caused a slight 
 tremor to pass over my frame. Grace's eyes turned anxiously 
 from me to the form of the kneeling and weeping Lucy. I 
 fancied that she was about to express a wish, or some regret, 
 in connection with us two, that even at such a moment I 
 could not have heard without betraying the concern it would 
 give me. She did not speak, however, though her look was 
 too eloquent to be mistaken. I ascribed the forbearance to 
 the conviction that it would be too late, Lucy's affections 
 belonging to Andrew Drewett. At that instant I had a bit- 
 ter remembrance of Neb's words of " I sometime wish, Mas- 
 ser Mile, you and I nebber had see salt water." But that 
 was not the moment to permit such feelings to get the mas- 
 tery; and Grace herself felt too clearly that her minutes 
 were numbered, to allow her mind to dwell on the subject. 
 
 " An Almighty Providence will direct everything for the 
 best, in this as in other things,'^ she murmured ; though it 
 was still some little time, I thought, before her mind revert- 
 ed to her own situation. The welfare of two as much be- 
 loved as Lucy and myself, could not be a matter of indiffer- 
 ence to one of Grace's disposition, even in the hour of death. 
 
 Mr. Hardinge now knelt, and the next quarter of an hour 
 passed in prayer. When the divine rose from his knees, 
 Grace, her countenance beaming with an angelic serenity, 
 gave him her hand, and in a clear, distinct voice, she uttered 
 a prayer for blessings, connecting her petitions with the 
 gratitude due him, for his care of us orphans. I never saw 
 the old man so much touched before. This unexpected ben- 
 ediction, for it had that character, coming from youth to age 
 quite unmanned him. 'The old man sunk into a chair, 
 weeping uncontrollably. This aroused Lucy, who regarded 
 
I20 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the gray hairs of her father with awe, as she witnessed the 
 strength of his emotions. But feelings of this nature could 
 not long absorb a man like Mr. Hardinge, who soon re- 
 gained as much of the appearance of composure as it was 
 possible to maintain by such a death-bed. 
 
 "Many may think me young to die," Grace observed; 
 " but I am weary of the world. It is my wish to submit my- 
 self to the will of God; but, blessed be his holy name, that 
 he sees fit to call me to him this day. Lucy, beloved one 
 — go into the next room, and draw the curtain asunder; I 
 shall then be enabled to gaze on the fields of dear Claw- 
 bonny once more ; that will be my last look at the outer 
 world." 
 
 This leave-taking of inanimate things, objects long 
 known and loved, is of frequent occurrence with the dying. 
 It is not in our natures to quit forever this beautiful world, 
 without casting "one longing, lingering look behind." The 
 hand of its divine Creator was gloriously impressed on the 
 rural loveliness of my native fields that day, and a holy 
 tranquillity seemed to reign over the grain, the orchards, the 
 meadows, and the wooded heights. The couch of Grace was 
 purposely placed at a point in her own chamber that com- 
 manded a wide view of the farm, through the vista formed 
 by the door and windows of the adjoining room. Here she 
 had often sat, during her confinement to her rooms, contem- 
 plating scenes so familiar and so much loved. I saw her 
 lips quiver as she now gazed on them for the last time, and 
 was convinced some unusual sentiment, connected with the 
 past, pressed on her feelings at that instant. I could see 
 the same view myself, and perceived that her eyes were riv- 
 eted on the little wood where Rupert and I had met the girls 
 on our return from sea; a favorite place of resort, and one 
 that, I doubted not, had often been the witness of the early 
 confidence between Grace and her recreant lover. Death 
 was actually hovering over that sainted being at the moment ; 
 but her woman's heart was not, could not, be insensible to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 121 
 
 the impressions produced by such a sight. In vain the 
 warm light from the heavens bathed the whole landscape in a 
 flood of glory; in vain the meadows put forth their flowers, 
 the woods their variegated, bright, American verdure, and 
 the birds their innocent gayety and brilliant plumage; the 
 fancy of Grace was portraying scenes that had once been 
 connected with the engrossing sentiment of her life. I felt 
 her tremble, as she lay in my arms ; and bending my head 
 towards her in tender concern, I could just distinguish the 
 murmuring of a prayer that it was easy to understand was a 
 petition offered up in behalf of Rupert. This done, she 
 asked, herself, to have the curtain drawn again, to shut out 
 the obtrusive thought forever. 
 
 I have often thought, since the events of that sad day, 
 that Grace's dissolution was hastened by this accidental re- 
 currence of her mind to Rupert and his forgotten love. I 
 call it love, though I question if a being so thoroughly sel- 
 fish ever truly loved any one but himself; perhaps not him- 
 self, indeed, in a way to entitle the feeling to so respectable 
 an epithet. Grace certainly drooped the faster from that 
 unfortunate moment. It is true, we all expected her death, 
 thought it would occur that day even, though surprised at 
 the suddenness with which it came at last; but we did not 
 expect it within an hour. 
 
 And what an hour was that which succeeded ! Both Mr. 
 Hardinge and Lucy passed quite half of it on their knees, 
 engaged in silent prayer; for it was thought petitions uttered 
 aloud might disturb the sick. There were minutes in which 
 the stillness of the tomb already reigned among us. I am 
 not enough of a physician to say whether the change that 
 now came over my sister's mind was the consequence of any 
 shock received in that long, intense look at the wood, or 
 whether it proceeded from the sinking of the system, and 
 was connected with that mysterious link which binds the 
 immortal part of our being so closely to the material, until 
 the tie is loosened forever. It is certain, however, that 
 
122 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Grace's thoughts wandered; and, while they never lost en- 
 tirely their leaning towards faith and a bright Christian 
 hope, they became tinctured with something allied to child- 
 ish simplicity, if not absolutely to mental weakness. Nev- 
 ertheless, there was a moral beauty about Grace, that no 
 failing of the faculties could ever totally eradicate. 
 
 It was fully half an hour that the breathing quiet of 
 prayer lasted. In all that time my sister scarcely stirred, 
 her own hands being clasped together, and her eyes occa- 
 sionally lifted to heaven. At length she seemed to revive 
 a little, and to observe external objects. In the end, she 
 spoke. 
 
 "Lucy, dearest," she said, "what has become of Rupert? 
 Does he know I am dying? If so, why does he not come 
 and see me, for the last time? " 
 
 It is scarcely necessary for me to say how much Lucy and 
 myself were startled at this question. The former buried 
 her face in her hands without making any reply; but good 
 Mr. Hardinge, altogether unconscious of anything's being 
 wrong, was eager to exculpate his son. 
 
 " Rupert has been sent for, my dear child," he said, " and, 
 though he is engrossed with love and Miss Merton, he will 
 not fail to hasten hither the instant he receives my letter." 
 
 " Miss Merton ! " repeated Grace, pressing both her hands 
 on her temples — " who is she ? I do not remember anybody 
 of that name ? " 
 
 We now understood that the mind of the dear patient was 
 losing its powers; of course no efforts were made to give a 
 truer direction to her thoughts. We could only listen, and 
 weep. Presently, Grace passed an arm round the neck of 
 Lucy, and drew her towards her, with a childish earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 "Lucy, love," she continued, "we will persuade these 
 foolish boys from this notion of going to sea. What if 
 Miles's father, and Rupert's great-grandfather were sailors; 
 it is no reason they should be sailors too ! " 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 123 
 
 She paused, appeared to meditate, and turned towards me. 
 Her head was still inclining on my bosom, and she gazed 
 upward at my face; as fondly as she did in that tender meet- 
 ing we held just after my return home, in the family room. 
 There was sufficient strength to enable her to raise her pallid 
 hut not emaciated hand to my face, even while she passed 
 it over my cheeks, once more parting the curls on my tem- 
 ples, and playing with my hair, with infantile fondness. 
 
 "Miles," the dear angel whispered, utterance beginning 
 to fail her, " do you remember what mother told us about 
 always speaking the truth? You are a manly boy, brother, 
 and have too much pride to say anything but the truth ; I 
 wish Rupert were as frank." 
 
 This was the first, the last, the only intimation I had ever 
 heard from Grace, of her being conscious of any defect in 
 Rupert's character. Would to God she had seen this impor- 
 tant deficiency earlier ! though this is wishing a child to pos- 
 sess the discernment and intelligence of a woman. The 
 hand was still on my cheek, and I would not have had it re- 
 moved at that bitter moment to have been well assured of 
 Lucy's love. 
 
 " See," my sister resumed, though she now spoke merely 
 in a whisper, " how brown his cheek is, though his forehead 
 is white. I doubt if mother would know him, Lucy. Is 
 Rupert's cheek as brown as this, dear? " 
 
 "Rupert has not been as much exposed of late as Miles," 
 Lucy answered huskily, Grace's arm still clinging to her 
 neck. 
 
 The well-known voice appeared to awaken a new train of 
 thought. 
 
 " Lucy," my sister asked, " are you as fond of Miles as 
 we both used to be, when children ? " 
 
 " I have always had, and shall ever retain, a deep affec- 
 tion for Miles Wallingford," Lucy answered steadily. 
 
 Grace now turned towards me, releasing her hold of Lucy's 
 neck, from pure inability to sustain it ; and she fastened her 
 
124 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 serene blue eyes on my countenance, whence they never de- 
 viated while she breathed. My tears were uncontrollable, 
 and they seemed to perplex rather than distress her. Of a 
 sudden, we heard her voice aloud, speaking gently, but with 
 a fervor that rendered it distinct. The words she uttered 
 were full of the undying affection of a heart that never 
 turned away from me for a single instant; no, not even in 
 the petulance of childhood. "Almighty Father," she said, 
 " look down from thy mercy seat on this dear brother — keep 
 him for thyself; and, in thy good time, call him, through 
 the Saviour's love, to thy mansions of bliss." 
 
 These were the last words that Grace Wallingford ever 
 spoke. She lived ten minutes longer; and she died on my 
 bosom like the infant that breathes its last in the arms of 
 its mother. Her lips moved several times; once I fancied 
 I caught the name of " Lucy," though I have reason to think 
 she prayed for us all, Rupert included, down to the moment 
 she ceased to exist. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 There have been sweet singing voices 
 
 In your walks that now are still ; 
 There are seats left void, in your earthly homes, 
 
 Which none again may fill. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 I NEVER saw the body of my sister, after I handed it, re- 
 sembling a sleeping infant, to the arms of Lucy. There is 
 a sort of mania in some, a morbid curiosity, to gaze on the 
 features of the dead ; but with me it has ever been the re- 
 verse. I had been taken to the family room to contemplate 
 and weep over the faces of both my parents, but this was at 
 an age when it became me to be passive. I was now at a 
 time of life when I might be permitted to judge for myself; 
 and, as soon as I began to think at all on the subject, which 
 was not for some hours, however, I resolved that the last 
 look of love, the sweet countenance — sinking in death, it is 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 12$ 
 
 true, but still animate and beaming with the sentiments of 
 her pure heart — should be the abiding impression of my sis- 
 ter's form. I have cherished it ever since, and often have I 
 rejoiced that I did not permit any subsequent images of a 
 corpse to supplant it. As respects both my parents, the 
 images left on my mind, for years and years, were painful 
 rather than pleasing. 
 
 Grace's body was no sooner out of my arms, I had scarcely 
 imprinted the last long kiss on the ivory-like but still 
 warm forehead, than I left the house. Clawbonny had no 
 impertinent eyes to drive a mourner to his closet, and I felt 
 as if it were impossible to breathe unless I could obtain the 
 freedom of the open air. As I crossed the little lawn, the 
 wails from the kitchens reached me. Now that the invalid 
 could no longer be disturbed by their lamentations, the un- 
 sophisticated negroes gave vent to their feelings without re- 
 serve. I heard their outcries long after every other sound 
 from the house was lost on my ear. 
 
 I held my way along the road, with no other view but to 
 escape from the scene I had just quitted, and entered the 
 very little wood which might be said to have been the last 
 object of the external world that had attracted my sister's 
 attention. Here everything reminded me of the past; of the 
 days of childhood and youth; of the manner in which the 
 four Clawbonny children had lived together and roamed 
 these very thickets in confidence and love. I sat in that 
 wood an hour; a strange, unearthly hour it seemed to me! 
 I saw Grace's angel countenance imprinted on the leaves, 
 heard her low, but gay, laugh, as she was wont to let it be 
 heard in the hours of happiness, and the tones of her gentle 
 voice sounded in my ears almost as familiarly as in life. 
 Rupert and Lucy were there, too. I saw them, heard them, 
 and tried to enter into their innocent merriment, as 1 had 
 done of old; but fearful glimpses of the sad truth would in- 
 terpose in time to br^k the charm. When I left that little 
 wood, it was to seek a larger cover and fields further re- 
 
126 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 moved from the house. It was dark before I thought of re- 
 turning; all that time was passed in a species of mystical 
 hallucination, in which the mind was lost in scenes foreign 
 to those actually present. I saw Grace's sweet image 
 everywhere ; I heard her voice at every turn. Now she was 
 the infant I was permitted to drag in her little wagon, the 
 earliest of all my impressions of that beloved sister; then, 
 she was following me as I trundled my hoop ; next came her 
 little lessons in morals, and warnings against doing wrong, 
 or some grave but gentle reproof for errors actually commit- 
 ted ; after which I saw her in the pride of youngs womanhood, 
 lovely and fitted to be loved, the sharer of my confidence, 
 and one capable of entering into all my plans of life. How 
 often that day did the murmuring of a brook or the hum- 
 ming of a bee become blended in my imagination with the 
 song, the laugh, the call, or the prayers of that beloved sis- 
 ter whose spirit had ascended to heaven, and who was no 
 more to mingle in my concerns or those of life! 
 
 At one time I had determined to pass the night abroad 
 and commune with the stars, each of which I fancied, in 
 turn, as they began slowly to show themselves in the vault 
 above, might be the abiding-place of the departed spirit. If 
 I thought so much and so intensely of Grace, I thought also 
 of Lucy. Nor was good Mr. Hardinge entirely forgotten. 
 I felt for their uneasiness, and saw it was my duty to re- 
 turn. 
 
 Neb and two or three others of the blacks had been look- 
 ing for me in all directions but that in which I was; and I 
 felt a melancholy pleasure as I occasionally saw these sim- 
 ple-minded creatures meet and converse. Their gestures, 
 their earnestness, their tears, for I could see that they were 
 often weeping, indicated alike that they were speaking of 
 their '* young mistress " ; how they spoke, I wanted no other 
 communications to understand. 
 
 Ours had ever been a family of love. My father, manly, 
 affectionate, and strongly attached to my mother, was admi- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 12/ 
 
 rably suited to sustain that dominion of the heart which the 
 last had established from her earliest days at Clawbonny. 
 This power of the feelings had insensibly extended itself to 
 the slaves, who seldom failed to manifest how keenly alive 
 they all were to the interests and happiness of their owners. 
 Among the negroes there was but one who was considered 
 as fallen below his proper level, or who was regarded as an 
 outcast. This was an old fellow who bore the name of Vul- 
 can, and who worked as a blacksmith on the skirts of the 
 farm, having been named by my grandfather with the express 
 intention of placing him at the anvil. This fellow's trade 
 caused him to pass most of his youth in an adjacent village, 
 or hamlet, where unfortunately he had acquired habits that 
 unsuited him to live as those around him were accustomed 
 to live. He became in a measure alienated from us, drink- 
 ing, and otherwise living a life that brought great scandal 
 on his sable connections, who were gathered more closely 
 around the homestead. Nevertheless, a death, or a return 
 home, or any important event in the family, was sure to 
 bring even Vulcan back to his allegiance; and, for a month 
 afterward, he would be a reformed man. On this occasion 
 he was one of those who were out in the fields and woods in 
 quest of me, and he happened to be the very individual by 
 whom I was discovered. 
 
 The awe-struck, solemn manner in which the reckless 
 Vulcan approached, were all other proofs wanting, would 
 have proclaimed the weight of the blow that had fallen on 
 Clawbonny. The eyes of this fellow were always red, but 
 it was easy to see that even he had been shedding tears. 
 He knew he was no favorite; seldom came near me, unless 
 it were to excuse some of his neglects or faults, and lived 
 under a vsort of ban for his constantly recurring misdeeds. 
 Nevertheless, a common cause of grief now gave him confi- 
 dence, and Neb himself could hardly have approached me 
 with a manner of more egsy, but respectful, familiarity. 
 
 " Ah ! Masser Mile I Masser Mile ! " Vulcan exclaimed, 
 
128 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 certain that we felt alike on this topic, if on no other; " poor 
 young missus! when we ebber get 'noder like sheV^ 
 
 " My sister is in heaven, Vulcan, where I hope all at 
 Clawbonny, blacks as well as whites, will endeavor to meet 
 her, by living in a manner that will improve the mercy of 
 God." 
 
 "You t'ink ^-aX posserbul^ Masser Mile?" demanded the 
 old man, fixing his dull eyes on me, with an earnest intent- 
 ness that proved he had not entirely lost all sensibility to 
 his moral condition. 
 
 "All things are possible with God, Vulcan. Keeping 
 him and his commandments constantly in mind, you may 
 still hope to see your young mistress, and to share in her 
 happiness." 
 
 " Wonnerful! " exclaimed the old man; "dat would be a 
 great conserlation. Ah! Masser Mile how often she come 
 when a little lady to my shop door, and ask to see 'e spark 
 fly! Miss Grace hab a great taste for blacksmit'in', and a 
 great knowledge too. I do t'ink, dat next to some oder 
 t'ing, she lub to see iron red-hot, and 'e horse shod ! " 
 
 " You have come to look for me, Vulcan, and I thank you 
 for this care. I shall return to the house presently ; you need 
 give yourself no further trouble. Remember, old man, that 
 the only hope that remains of either of us ever seeing Miss 
 Grace again is in living as Mr. Hardinge so often tells us 
 all we ought to live." 
 
 "Wonnerful!" repeated old Vulcan, whose mind and 
 feelings were in a happy condition to receive such a lesson. 
 "Yes, sah^ Masser Mile; she come to my shop to see 'e 
 spark fly; I shall miss her like a darter." 
 
 This was a specimen of the feelings that prevailed among 
 the negroes, though the impression on most of the others 
 was more lasting than that made on the blacksmith, whom 
 I now dismissed, taking the path myself that led to the 
 house. It was quite dark when I crossed the lawn. A 
 6gure was just visible in the shadows of the piazza, and I 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 129 
 
 was on the point of turning in the direction of a side door, 
 in order to avoid the meeting, when Lucy advanced eagerly 
 to the edge of the steps to receive me. 
 
 "Oh! Miles — dear Miles, how happy I am to see you 
 again!" the precious girl said, taking my hand with the 
 warmth and frankness of a sister. ^' My father and myself 
 have been very uneasy about you; my father, indeed, has 
 walked towards the rectory, thinking you may have gone 
 thither.'* 
 
 " I have been with you, and Grace, and your father, my good 
 Lucy, ever since we parted. I am more myself now, how- 
 ever, and you need feel no further concern on my account. 
 I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that which you 
 have already felt, and will give you no further concern." 
 
 The manner in which Lucy now burst into tears betrayed 
 the intensity of the feelings that had been pent up in her 
 bosom, and the relief she found in my assurances. She did 
 not scruple, even, about leaning on my shoulder, so long as 
 the paroxysm lasted. As soon as able to command herself, 
 however, she wiped her eyes, again took my hand with con- 
 fiding affection, looked anxiously towards me as she said, 
 soothingly : 
 
 "We have met with a great loss. Miles; one that even 
 time cannot repair. Neither of us can ever find another to 
 fill the place that Grace has occupied. Our lives cannot 
 be lived over again; we cannot return to childhood; feel as 
 children; love as children; live as children; and grow up 
 together, as it might be, with one heart, with the same views, 
 the same wishes, the same opinion. I hope it is not presum- 
 ing on too great a resemblance to the departed angel, if I 
 add, the same principle." 
 
 " No, Lucy ; the past, for us, is gone forever. Clawbonny 
 will never again be the Clawbonny it was." 
 
 There was a pause, during which I fancied Lucy was 
 struggling to repress some fresh burst of emotion. 
 
 " Yet, Miles," she presently resumed, " we could not asJp 
 
 y 
 
130 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 to have her recalled from that bliss which we have so much 
 reason to believe she is even now enjoying. In a short 
 time Grace will be to you and me a lovely and grateful 
 image of goodness and virtue and affection ; and we shall 
 have a saddened, perhaps, but a deep-felt pleasure in re- 
 membering how much we enjoyed of her affection, and how 
 closely she was united to us both in life." 
 
 "That will be indeed a link between us two, Lucy, that I 
 trust may withstand all the changes and withering selfish- 
 ness of the world ! " 
 
 " I hope it may. Miles," Lucy answered in a low voice, 
 and, as I fancied at the moment, with an embarrassment 
 that I did not fail to attribute to the consciousness she felt 
 of Andrew Drewett's claims on all such intimate association 
 of feeling. " We, who have known each other from children, 
 can scarcely want causes for continuing to esteem and to 
 regard each other with affection." 
 
 Lucy now appeared to think she might leave me to my- 
 self, and she led the way into the house. I did not see her 
 again until Mr. Hardinge caused the whole household to be 
 assembled at evening prayers. The meeting of the family 
 that night was solemn and mournful. For myself, I fancied 
 that the spirit of Grace was hovering around us; more than 
 once did I fancy that I heard her sweet voice mingling in 
 the petitions, or leading the service, as was her practice on 
 those occasions when our good guardian could not attend. 
 I observed all the negroes looking at me with solicitude, 
 like those who recognized my right to feel the blow the 
 deepest. It was a touching evidence of respectful interest 
 that each man bowed to me reverently, and each woman 
 curtsied, as he or she left the room. As for Chloe, sobs 
 nearly choked her, the poor girl having refused to quit the 
 body of her mistress except for that short moment. I 
 thought Lucy would have remained with her father and my- 
 self for a few minutes, but for the necessity of removing this 
 poor heart-stricken creature, who really felt as if the death 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I3I 
 
 of her young mistress was a loss of part of her own exist- 
 ence. 
 
 I have already dwelt on the circumstances attending the 
 death of Grace longer than I intended, and shall now cease 
 to harass my own feelings, or to distress those of my read- 
 ers, by unnecessarily enlarging on more of the details. The 
 next three or four days produced the usual calm ; and though 
 it was literally years ere Lucy or myself ceased altogether 
 to weep for her loss, we both obtained the self-command 
 that was necessary for the discharge of our ordinary duties. 
 Grace, it will be remembered, died of a Sunday, about the 
 usual hour for dinner. Agreeably to the custom of the 
 country, in which there is usually a little too much of an 
 indecent haste in disposing of the dead, owing in some 
 degree to climate, however, the funeral would have taken 
 place on Wednesday, and that would have been delaying 
 twenty-four hours longer than might have been granted in 
 most cases; but Mr. Hardinge, who gave all the directions, 
 had named Thursday noon as the hour for the interment. 
 We had few relatives to expect; most of those who would 
 have been likely to attend, had circumstances admitted of it, 
 living in distant places that rendered it inconvenient, and 
 indeed scarcely possible, 
 
 I passed most of the intervening time in my study, reading 
 and indulging in such contemplations as naturally suggest 
 themselves to the mourner. Lucy, dear girl, had written me 
 two or three short notes, asking my wishes on various points — 
 among other things, when I wished to pay a last visit to the 
 body. My answer to this question brought her to my room, 
 with some little surprise of manner; for she had been so 
 much with Grace, living and dead, as to think it strange 
 one who had loved her so well while living should not de- 
 sire to take a final look at the beautiful remains. I ex- 
 plained my feelings on this head, and Lucy seemed struck 
 with them. • 
 
 ** I am not sure you will not have decided wisely. Miles," 
 
132 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 she said, "the picture being one too precious to destroy. 
 You will be gratified in knowing, however, that Grace re- 
 sembles an angel quite as much in death as she did in 
 life; all who have seen her being struck with the air of 
 peaceful tranquillity her features now present." 
 
 " Bless you, bless you, Lucy, this is all-sufficient. I did 
 wish for some such assurance, and am now content." 
 
 " Several of your family are in the house, Miles, in readi- 
 ness to attend the funeral. A stranger has just arrived who 
 seems to have some such desire, too, though his face is un- 
 known to all at the place; he has asked to see you with an 
 earnestness that my father scarce knows how to refuse." 
 
 " Let him come here, then, Lucy. I can only suppose it 
 to be some one of the many persons Grace has served; her 
 short life was all activity in that particular." 
 
 Lucy's face did not corroborate that notion; but she with- 
 drew to let my decision be known. In a few minutes a 
 large, hard-featured, but not ill-looking man approaching 
 fifty entered my room, walked up to me with tears in his 
 eyes, squeezed my hand warmly, and then seated himself 
 without ceremony. He was attired like a thriving country- 
 man, though his language, accent, and manner denoted one 
 superior to the ordinary run of those with whom he was 
 otherwise associated in externals. I had to look at him a 
 second time ere I could recognize Jack Wallingford, my 
 father's bachelor cousin, the western landholder. 
 
 " I see by your look, cousin Miles, that you only half re- 
 member me," my visitor remarked ; " I deeply regret that I 
 am obliged to renew our acquaintance on so melancholy an 
 occasion." 
 
 "There are so few of us left, Mr. Wallingford, that this 
 kindness will be doubly appreciated," I answered. " If I 
 did not give orders to have you apprised of the loss we have 
 all sustained, it is because your residence is so far from 
 Clawbonny as to render it improbable you could have re- 
 ceived the intelligence in time to attend the solemn cere- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 133 
 
 mony that remains to be performed. I did intend to write 
 to you, when a little better fitted to perform such a duty." 
 
 "I thank you, cousin. The blood and name of Walling- 
 ford are very near and dear to me, and Clawbonny has 
 always seemed a sort of home." 
 
 "The dear creature who now lies dead under its roof, 
 cousin John, so considered you; and you may be pleased to 
 know that she wished me to leave you this property in my 
 will the last time I went to sea, as of the direct line, a 
 Wallingford being the proper owner of Clawbonny. In that 
 particular, she preferred your claims to her own." 
 
 " Ay, this agrees with all I ever heard of the angel," an- 
 swered John Wallingford, dashing a tear from his eyes, a 
 circumstance that gave one a favorable opinion of his heart. 
 " Of course you refused, and left the property to herself, who 
 had a better right to it." 
 
 "I did, sir; though she threatened to transfer it to you 
 the moment it became hers." 
 
 " A threat she would have found it difficult to execute, as 
 I certainly would have refused to receive it. We are half 
 savages, no doubt, out west of the bridge ; but our lands are 
 beginning to tell in the markets, and we count already some 
 rich men among us." 
 
 This was said with a self-satisfied manner that my cousin 
 was a little too apt to assume when property became the 
 subject of conversation. I had occasion several times that 
 day, even, to remark that he attached a high value to money; 
 though, at the same time, it struck me that most of his no- 
 tions were just and honorable. He quite worked his way 
 into my favor, however, by the respect he manifested for 
 Clawbonny and all that belonged to it. So deep was this 
 veneration that I began to think of the necessity of making 
 a new will, in order to bequeath him the place in the event 
 of my dying without heirs, as I now imagined must sooner 
 or later occur. As Luc)i was not likely to be my wife, no 
 one else, I fancied, ever should be. I had nearer relations 
 
134 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 than Jack Wallingford, some of whom were then in the 
 house ; cousins-german by both father and mother ; but they 
 were not of the direct line; and I knew that Miles the First 
 would have made this disposition of the place, could he have 
 foreseen events, and had the law allowed it. Then Grace 
 had wished such an arrangement, and I had a sad happiness 
 in executing all the known wishes of my sister. 
 
 The funeral did not occur until the day after the arrival 
 of John Wallingford, who accidentally heard of the death 
 that had occurred in the family, and came uninvited to at- 
 tend the obsequies, as has been mentioned. I passed most 
 of the evening in the company of this relative, with whom 
 I became so much pleased as to request he would walk with 
 me next day as second nearest of kin. This arrangement, 
 as I had reason to know in the end, gave great offence to 
 several who stood one degree nearer in blood to the de- 
 ceased, though not of her name. Thus are we constituted ! — 
 we will quarrel over a grave, even, a moment that should lay 
 eternity to our view, with all its immense consequences and 
 accompaniments, in order to vindicate feelings and passions 
 that can only interest us, as it might be, for a day. Fortu- 
 nately I knew nothing of the offence that was taken at the 
 time, nor did I see any of my kinsmen but John Walling- 
 ford that evening; his presence in my room being owing 
 altogether to a certain self-possession and an aplomb that 
 caused him to do very much as he pleased in such matters. 
 
 I rose on the following morning at a late hour, and with a 
 heaviness at the heart that was natural to the occasion. It 
 was a lovely summer's day, but all in and around Claw- 
 bonny wore the air of a Sunday. The procession was to 
 form at ten o'clock, and as I cast my eyes from my window 
 I could see the negroes moving about on the lawns and in 
 the lanes, attired in their best but wearing no holiday faces. 
 It seemed to me to be a species of unnatural Sabbath, pos- 
 sessing all its solemnity, its holy stillness, its breathing 
 calm, but wanting in that solacing spirit of peace which is 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 135 
 
 SO apt to oe imparted to the day of rest in the country, most 
 particularly at that season of the year. Several of the 
 neighbors who did not belong to Clawbonny were beginning 
 to appear; and I felt the necessity of dressing in order to 
 be in readiness for what was to follow. 
 
 I had eaten alone in my little study or library from the 
 time my sister died, and had seen no one since my return to 
 the house, the servants excepted, besides my guardian, Lucy, 
 and John Wallingford. The last had taken a light supper 
 with me the previous night, but he was then breakfasting 
 with the rest of the guests in the family eating-room, Mr. 
 Hardinge doing the honors of the house. 
 
 As for myself, I found my own little table prepared with 
 its coffee and light meal, as I had ordered before retiring. 
 I had two cups, however, and a second plate had been laid 
 in addition to my own. I pointed to this arrangement, and 
 demanded of the old white-headed house-servant, who was in 
 waiting, what it meant. 
 
 "Miss Lucy, sah; she say she mean to breakfast wid 
 Masser Mile, dis mornin', sah." 
 
 Even the accents of this negro were solemn and sad as he 
 made this familiar explanation, like those of a man who was 
 conscious of having reached an hour and an occasion that 
 called for peculiar awe. I bade him let Miss Lucy know 
 that I was in the study. 
 
 " Ah, Masser Mile," added the old man, with tears in his 
 eyes, as he left the room, " Miss Lucy *e only young missus 
 now, sah ! " 
 
 In a few minutes Lucy joined me. She was in deep 
 black, of course, and that may have added to the appear- 
 ance of paleness, but no one could be deceived in the man- 
 ner in which the dear girl had mourned and wept since we 
 parted. The subdued expression of her face gave it a pecul- 
 iar sweetness, and in spite of the absence of color, I 
 thought, as Lucy advanced towards me, both hands extended, 
 and a smile of anxious inquiry on her lips, that she had 
 
136 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 never appeared more lovely. I did not hesitate about press- 
 ing those hands with fervor, and of kissing the warm though 
 colorless cheek. All this passed as it might have done be- 
 tween an affectionate brother and sister, neither of us think- 
 ing, I am persuaded, of aught but the confidence and friend- 
 ship of childhood. 
 
 " This is kind of you, dear Lucy," I said, as we took our 
 seats at the little table; "my cousin John Wallingford, 
 though a good man in the main, is scarcely near enough, or 
 dear enough, to be admitted at a time like this." 
 
 "I have seen him," Lucy replied, the tremor in her voice 
 showing how hard she found it to avoid melting in tears, 
 "and rather like him. I believe he was a favorite of mam- 
 ma Wallingford " — so Lucy was accustomed to call my 
 mother — " and that ought to be a high recommendation with 
 us, Miles." 
 
 " I am disposed to like him, and shall endeavor to keep 
 up more intercourse with him than I have hitherto done. 
 It is as we begin to find ourselves alone in the world, Lucy, 
 that we first feel the necessity of counting blood and kin, 
 and of looking around us for support." 
 
 " Alone you are not, Miles, and never can bewhile I and my 
 dear father live. We are certainly nearer to you than any that 
 now remain among your blood relatives! You can neither 
 suffer nor be happy without our partaking in the feelings." 
 
 This was not said without an effort — that much I could 
 detect; yet it was said firmly, and in a way that left no 
 doubt of its entire sincerity. I even wished there had been 
 less of nature and more of hesitation in the dear girl's man- 
 ner while she was endeavoring to assure me of the sympathy 
 she felt in my happiness or unhappiness. But the wayward- 
 ness of a passion as tormenting, and yet as delightful as 
 love, seldom leaves us just or reasonable. 
 
 Lucy and I then talked of the approaching ceremony. 
 Each of us was grave and sorrowful, but neither indulged in 
 any outward signs of grief. We knew the last sad offices 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 137 
 
 were to be performed, and had braced ourselves to the dis- 
 charge of this melancholy duty. It was not customary with 
 the females of purely New York families of the class of the 
 Hardinges to be present at the performance of the funeral 
 rites; but Lucy told me she intended to be in the little 
 church, and to share in as much of the religious offices as 
 were performed within the building. In a population as 
 mixed as ours has become, it is not easy to say what is and 
 what is not now a national or state usage, on such an occa- 
 sion ; but I knew this was going farther than was usual for 
 one of Lucy's habits and opinions, and I expressed a little 
 surprise at her determination. 
 
 "Were it any other funeral, I would not be present, 
 Miles,'' she said, the tremor of her voice sensibly increasing; 
 " but I cannot divest myself of the idea that the spirit of 
 Grace will be hovering near; that the presence of her more 
 than sister will be acceptable. Whatever the providence of 
 God may have ordered for the dear departed, I know it will 
 be grateful to myself to join in the prayers of the church — 
 besides, I am not altogether without the womanly feeling of 
 wishing to watch over the form of Grace while it remains 
 above ground. And now, Miles, brother, friend, Grace's 
 brother, or by whatever endearing term I may address you," 
 added Lucy, rising, coming to my side of the table, and 
 taking my hand, " I have one thing to say that I alone can 
 say, for it would never suggest itself as necessary to my 
 dear father." 
 
 I looked earnestly at Lucy's sweet countenance, and saw 
 it was full of concern — I had almost said of alarm. 
 
 " I believe I understand you, Lucy," I answered, though a 
 sensation at the throat nearly choked me ; " Rupert is here ? " 
 
 "He is, Miles; I implore you to remember what would 
 be the wishes of her who is now a saint in heaven — what 
 her entreaties, her tears would implore of you, had not God 
 placed a barrier between us." 
 
 " I understand you, Lucy," was the husky reply ; "I do 
 
138 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 remember all you wish, though that recollection is unneces- 
 sary. I would rather not see him ; but never can I forget 
 that he is your brother ! " 
 
 "You will see as little of him as possible, Miles — bless 
 you, bless you, for this forbearance ! " 
 
 I felt Lucy's hasty but warm kiss on my forehead as she 
 quitted the room. It seemed to me a seal of a compact be- 
 tween us that was far too sacred ever to allow me to dream 
 of violating it. 
 
 I pass over the details of the funeral procession. This 
 last was ordered as is usual in the country, the friends fol- 
 lowing the body in vehicles or on horseback, according to 
 circumstances. John Wallingford went with me agreeably 
 to my own arrangement, and the rest took their places in 
 the order of consanguinity and age. I did not see Rupert 
 in the procession at all, though I saw little besides the 
 hearse that bore the body of my only sister. When we 
 reached the churchyard, the blacks of the family pressed 
 forward to bear the coffin into the building. Mr. Hardinge 
 met us there, and then commenced those beautiful and 
 solemn rites which seldom fail to touch the hardest heart. 
 The rector of St. Michael's had the great excellence of read- 
 ing all the offices of the church as if he felt them ; and, on 
 this occasion, the deepest feelings of the heart seemed to be 
 thrown into his accents. I wondered how he could get on ; 
 but Mr. Hardinge felt himself a servant of the altar, stand- 
 ing in his master's house, and ready to submit to his will. 
 Under such circumstances, it was not a trifle that could 
 unman him. The spirit of the divine communicated itself 
 to me. I did not shed a tear during the whole of the cere- 
 mony, but felt myself sustained by the thoughts and holy 
 hopes that ceremony was adapted to inspire. I believe 
 Lucy, who sat in a far corner of the church, was sustained 
 in a similar manner; for I heard her low, sweet voice min- 
 gling in the responses. Lip service! Let those who would 
 substitute their own crude impulses for the sublime rites of 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 39 
 
 our liturgy, making ill-digested forms the supplanter of a 
 ritual carefully and devoutly prepared, listen to one of their 
 own semi-conversational addresses to the Almighty over 
 a grave, and then hearken to these venerable rites and 
 learn humility. Such men never approach sublimity, or the 
 sacred character that should be impressed on a funeral cere- 
 mony, except when they borrow a fragment here and there 
 from the very ritual they affect to condemn. In their eager- 
 ness to dissent, they have been guilty of the weakness of 
 dissenting, so far as forms are concerned, from some of the 
 loftiest, most comprehensive, most consolatory, and most 
 instructive passages of the inspired book! 
 
 It was a terrible moment when the first clod of the valley 
 fell on my sister's coffin. God sustained me under the 
 shock! I neither groaned nor wept. When Mr. Hardinge 
 returned the customary thanks to those who had assembled 
 to assist me " in burying my dead out of my sight," I had 
 even sufficient fortitude to bow to the little crowd, and to 
 walk steadily away. It is true that John Wallingford very 
 kindly took my arm to sustain me, but I was not conscious 
 of wanting any support. I heard the sobs of the blacks as 
 they crowded around the grave, which the men among them 
 insisted on filling with their own hands, as if " Miss Grace" 
 could only rest with their administration to her wants; and 
 I was told not one of them left the spot until the place had 
 resumed all the appearance of freshness and verdure which 
 it possessed before the spade had been applied. The same 
 roses, removed with care, were restored to their former beds; 
 and it would not have been easy for a stranger to discover 
 that a new-made grave lay by the side of those of the late 
 Captain Miles Wallingford and his much-respected widow. 
 Still it was known to all in that vicinity, and many a pil- 
 grimage was made to the spot within the next fortnight, the 
 young maidens of the adjoining farms in particular coming 
 to visit the grave of Grace Wallingford, the " Lily of Claw- 
 bonny," as she had once been styled. 
 
I40 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I knew that we must part — no power could save 
 
 Thy quiet goodness from an early grave : 
 
 Those eyes so dull, though kind each glance they CMt» 
 
 Looking a sister's fondness to the last ; 
 
 Thy lips so pale, that gently pressM my cheek ; 
 
 Thy voice— alas ! thou could'st but try to speak ;— 
 
 All told thy doom ; I felt it at my heart ; 
 
 The shaft had struck— I knew that we must part. 
 
 Spraguk. 
 
 It is not easy to describe the sensation of loss that came 
 over me after the interment of my sister. It is then we com- 
 pletely feel the privation with which we have met. The 
 body is removed from out of our sight; the places that knew 
 them shall know them no more ; there is an end to all com- 
 munion, even by the agency of sight, the last of the senses 
 to lose its hold on the departed, and a void exists in the 
 place once occupied. I felt all this very keenly for more 
 than a month, but most keenly during the short time I re- 
 mained at Clawbonny. The task before me, however, will 
 not allow me to dwell on these proofs of sorrow, nor do I 
 know that the reader could derive much advantage from 
 their exhibition. 
 
 I did not see Rupert at the funeral. That he was there 
 I knew, but either he himself, or Lucy for him, had man- 
 aged so well as not to obtrude his person on my sight. 
 John Wallingford, who well knew my external or visible 
 relation to all the Hardinges, thinking to do me a pleasure, 
 mentioned, as the little procession returned to the house, 
 that young Mr. Hardinge had, by dint of great activity, 
 succeeded in reaching Clawbonny in time for the funeral. 
 I fancy that Lucy, under the pretence of wishing his escort, 
 contrived to keep her brother at the rectory during the time 
 I was abroad. 
 
 On reaching the house, I saw all my connections, and 
 thanked them in person for this proof of their respect for the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I4I 
 
 deceased. This little duty performed, all but John Walling- 
 ford took their leave, and I was soon left in the place alone 
 with my bachelor cousin. What a house it was! and what 
 a house it continued to be as long as I remained at Claw- 
 bonny! The servants moved about it stealthily; the merry 
 laugh was no longer heard in the kitchen ; even the heavy- 
 footed seemed to tread on air, and all around me appeared 
 to be afraid of disturbing the slumbers of the dead. Never 
 before nor since have I had occasion to feel how completely 
 a negative may assume an affirmative character, and become 
 as positive as if it had a real existence. I thought I could 
 see as well as feel my sister's absence from the scene in 
 which she had once been so conspicuous an actor. 
 
 As none of the Hardinges returned to dinner, the good 
 divine writing a note to say he would see me in the evening 
 after my connections had withdrawn, John Wallingford and 
 myself took that meal tete-h-Ute. My cousin, with the ap- 
 parent motive of diverting my thoughts from dwelling on the 
 recent scene, began to converse on subjects that he was right 
 in supposing might interest me. Instead of flying off to 
 some topic so foreign to my feelings as constantly to recall 
 the reason, he judiciously connected the theme with my 
 loss. 
 
 " I suppose you will go to sea again, as soon as your ship 
 can be got ready, cousin Miles," he commenced, after we 
 were left with the fruit and wine. "These are stirring 
 times in commerce, and the idle man misses golden oppor- 
 tunities." 
 
 " Gold has no longer any charm for me, cousin John," I 
 answered, gloomily. " I am richer now than is necessary 
 for my wants, and, as I shall probably never marry, I see 
 no great use in toiling for more. Still, I shall go out in my 
 own ship, and that as soon as possible. Here I would not 
 pass the summer for the j)lace, and I love the sea. Yes, 
 yes; I must make a voyage to some part of Europe without 
 delay. It is the wisest thing I can do." 
 
142 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "That is hearty, and like a man! There is none of your 
 mopes about the Wallingfords, and I believe you to be of 
 the true stock. But why never marry, Miles? Your father 
 was a sailor, and he married, and a very good time I've 
 always understood he had of it." 
 
 " My father was happy as a husband, and did I imitate 
 his example, I should certainly marry, too. Nevertheless, 
 I feel I am to be a bachelor." 
 
 "In that case, what will become of Clawbonny?" de- 
 manded Jack Wallingford, bluntly. 
 
 I could not avoid smiling at the question, as I deemed 
 him my heir, though the law would give it to nearer rela- 
 tives, who were not of the name ; but it is probable that 
 John, knowing himself to be so much my senior, had never 
 thought of himself as one likely to outlive me. 
 
 " I shall make a new will the instant I get to town, and 
 leave Clawbonny to you," I answered steadily and truly, for 
 such a thought had come into my mind the instant I saw 
 him. " You are the person best entitled to inherit it, and 
 should you survive me, yours it shall be." 
 
 " Miles, I like that," exclaimed my cousin, with a strange 
 sincerity, stretching out a hand to receive mine, which he 
 pressed most warmly. "You are very right; I ought io be 
 the heir of this place, should you die without children, 
 even though you left a widow." 
 
 This was said so naturally, and was so much in conform- 
 ity with my own notions on the subject, that it did not so 
 much offend as surprise me. I knew John Wallingford 
 loved money, and, all men having a very respectful attach- 
 ment to the representative of value, such a character inva- 
 riably means that the party named suffers that attachment 
 to carry him too far. I wished, therefore, my kinsman had 
 not made just such a speech; though it in no manner shook 
 my intentions in his favor. 
 
 " You are more ready to advise your friends to get mar- 
 ried than to set the example," I answered, willing to divert 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I43 
 
 the discourse a little. "You, who must be turned of fifty, 
 are still a bachelor." 
 
 " And so shall I remain through life. There was a time 
 I might have married, had I been rich; and now I am rea- 
 sonably rich, I find other things to employ my affections. 
 Still that is no reason you should not leave me Clawbonny, 
 though it is not probable I shall ever live to inherit 
 it. Notwithstanding, it is family property, and ought not to 
 go out of the name. I was afraid, if you were lost at sea, 
 or should die of any of those outlandish fevers that sailors 
 sometimes take, the place would get into females, and there 
 would no longer be a Wallingford at Clawbonny. Miles, I 
 do not grudge you the possession of the property the least in 
 the world; but it would make me very unhappy to know 
 one of those Hazens, or Morgans, or Van-der-Schamps had 
 it." 
 
 Jack had mentioned the names of the children of so many 
 Miss Wallingfords, aunts or great-aunts of mine, and 
 cousins of his own. " Some of them may be nearer to you 
 by a half degree or so, but none of them are as near to 
 Clawbonny. It is Wallingford land, and Wallingford land 
 it ought to remain." 
 
 I was amused in spite of myself, and felt a disposition 
 now to push the discourse further, in order better to under- 
 stand my kinsman's character. 
 
 " Should neither of us two marry," I said, " and both die 
 bachelors, what would then be the fate of Clawbonny? " 
 
 " I have thought of all that, Miles, and here is my answer. 
 Should such a thing happen, and there be no other Walling- 
 ford left, then no Wallingford would live to have his feel- 
 ings hurt by knowing that a Vander-diinder-Schamp, or 
 whatever these Dutchmen ought to be called, is living in 
 his father's house, and no harm would be done. But there 
 are Wallingfords besides you and me." 
 
 "This is quite new; for I had supposed we two were the 
 last." 
 
144 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "Not SO. Miles the First left two sons; our ancestor, 
 the eldest, and one younger, who removed into the colony of 
 New Jersey, and whose descendants still exist. The sur- 
 vivors of us two might go there in quest of our heir in the 
 long run. But do not forget I come before these Jersey 
 Blues, let them be who or what they may." 
 
 I assured my kinsman he should come before them, and 
 changed the discourse, for, to own the truth, the manner in 
 which he spoke began to displease me. Making my apolo- 
 gies, I retired to my own room, while John Wallingford 
 went out, professedly with the intention of riding over the 
 place of his ancestors, with a view to give it a more critical 
 examination than it had hitherto been in his power to do. 
 
 It was quite dark when I heard the arrival of the Har- 
 dinges, as the carriage of Lucy drove up to the door. In a 
 few minutes Mr. Hardinge entered the study. He first in- 
 quired after my health, and manifested the kind interest 
 he had ever taken in my feelings — after which he pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " Rupert is here," he said, " and I have brought him over 
 to see you. Both he and Lucy appeared to think it might 
 be well not to disturb you to-night, but I knew you better. 
 Who should be at your side at this bitter moment, my dear 
 Miles, if it be not Rupert, your old friend and playmate; 
 your fellow-truant, as one might say, and almost your 
 brother?" 
 
 Almost my brother! Still I commanded myself. Grace 
 had received my solemn assurances, and so had Lucy, and 
 Rupert had nothing to apprehend. I even asked to see 
 him, desiring, at the same time, that it might be alone. I 
 waited several minutes for Rupert's appearance, in vain. 
 At length the door of my room opened, and Chloe brought 
 me a note. It was from Lucy, and contained only these 
 words — " Miles, for her sake, for mine, command yourself." 
 Dear creature! She had no reason to be alarmed. The 
 spirit of my sister seemed to me to be present, and I could 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 145 
 
 recall every expression of her angel countenance as it had 
 passed before my eyes in the different interviews that pre- 
 ceded her death. 
 
 At length Rupert appeared. He had been detained by 
 Lucy until certain her note was received, when she per- 
 mitted him to quit her side. His manner was full of the 
 consciousness of undeserving, and its humility aided my 
 good resolutions. Had he advanced to take my hand ; had 
 he attempted consolation ; had he, in short, behaved differ- 
 ently in the main from what he actually did, I cannot say 
 what might have been the consequences. But his deport- 
 ment, at first, was quiet, respectful, distant rather than 
 familiar, and he had the tact, or grace, or caution, not to 
 make the smallest allusion to the sad occasion which had 
 brought him to Clawbonny. When I asked him to be 
 seated he declined the chair I offered, a sign he intended 
 the visit to be short. I was not sorry, and determined, at 
 once, to make the interview as much one of business as pos- 
 sible. I had a sacred duty confided to me, and this might 
 be as fit an occasion as could offer in which to acquit my- 
 self of the trust. 
 
 " I am glad so early an opportunity has offered, Mr. Har- 
 dinge," I said, as soon as the opening civilities were over, 
 " to acquaint you with an affair that has been entrusted to 
 me by Grace, and which I am anxious to dispose of as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 "By Grace — by Miss Wallingford! " exclaimed Rupert, 
 actually recoiling a step in surprise, if not absolutely in 
 alarm — " I shall feel honored — that is, shall have a melan- 
 choly gratification in endeavoring to execute any of her 
 wishes. No person commanded more of my respect, Mr. 
 Wallingford, and I shall always consider her one of the 
 most amiable and admirable women with whom it was ever 
 my happy fortune to be acquainted." 
 
 I had no difficulty now in commanding myself, for it was 
 easy to see Rupert scarce knew what he said. With such a 
 
 lO 
 
146 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 man I saw no great necessity for using extraordinary deli- 
 cacy or much reserve. 
 
 "You are doubtless aware of two things in our family 
 history," I continued, therefore, without circumlocution; 
 "one that my sister would have been mistress of a small 
 fortune, had she reached the term of twenty-one years, and 
 the other that she died at twenty." 
 
 Rupert's surprise was now more natural, and I could see 
 that his interest — shame on our propensities for it! — was 
 very natural, too. 
 
 " I am aware of both, and deeply deplore the last," he 
 answered. 
 
 " Being a minor, she had it not in her power to make a 
 will, but her requests are legal legacies in my eyes, and I 
 stand pledged to her to see them executed. She has left 
 rather less than $22,000 in all; with $500 of this money I 
 am to present Lucy with some suitable memorial of her de- 
 parted friend; some small charitable dispositions are also 
 to be made, and the balance, or the round sum of $20,000, 
 is to be given to you." 
 
 "To me, Mr. Wallingford! — Miles! — Did you really say 
 to me?" 
 
 " To you, Mr. Hardinge — such is my sister's earnest re- 
 quest — and this letter will declare it, as from herself. I 
 was to hand you this letter, when acquainting you with 
 the bequest." I put Grace's letter into Rupert's hand, as 
 I concluded, and I sat down to write, while he was reading 
 it. Though employed at a desk for a minute or two, I could 
 not avoid glancing at Rupert, in order to ascertain the 
 effect of the last words of her he had once professed to 
 love. I would wish not to be unjust even to Rupert Har- 
 dinge. He was dreadfully agitated, and he walked the 
 room, for some little time, without speaking. I even fancied 
 I overheard a half-s(ippressed groan. I had the compassion 
 to affect to be engaged, in order to allow him to recover 
 his self-possession. This was soon done, as good impres- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 14/ 
 
 sions were not lasting in Rupert; and I knew him so well, 
 as soon to read in his countenance gleamings of satisfac- 
 tion at the prospect of being master of so large a sum. At 
 the proper moment, I arose and resumed the subject. 
 
 "My sister's wishes would be sacred with me," I said, 
 " even had she not received my promise to see them exe- 
 cuted. When a thing of this character is to be done, the 
 sooner it is done the better. I have drawn a note at ten 
 days, payable at the Bank of New York, and in your favor, 
 for $20,000; it will not inconvenience me to pay it when 
 due, and that will close the transaction." 
 
 " I am not certain, Wallingford, that I ought to receive 
 so large a sum — I do not know that my father or Lucy, or, 
 indeed, the world, would altogether approve of it." 
 
 " Neither your father, nor Lucy, nor the world will know 
 anything about it, sir, unless you see fit to acquaint them. 
 I shall not speak of the bequest; and I confess that, on 
 my sister's account, I should prefer that you would not." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Wallingford," answered Rupert, coolly put- 
 ting the note into his wallet, " I will think of this request 
 of poor Grace's, and if I can possibly comply with her 
 wishes, I will certainly do so. There is little that she 
 could ask that I would deny, and my effort will be to honor 
 her memory. As I see you are distressed, I will now retire; 
 you shall know my determination in a few days." 
 
 Rupert did retire, taking my note for $20,000 with him. 
 I made no effort to detain him, nor was I sorry to hear he 
 had returned to the rectory to pass the night, whither his 
 sister went with him. The next day he proceeded to New 
 York, without sending me any message, retaining the note, 
 however; and a day or two later I heard of him on his way 
 to the Springs to rejoin the party of the Mertons. 
 
 John Wallingford left me the morning of the day after 
 the funeral, promising to see me again in town. " Do not 
 forget the will. Miles," said that singular man, as he shook 
 my hand, " and be certain to let me see that provision in it 
 
148 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 about Clawbonny, before I go west of the bridge again. 
 Between relations of the same name there should be no re- 
 serves in such matters." 
 
 I scarce knew whether to smile or look grave at so strange 
 a request, but I did not change my determination on the 
 subject of the will itself, feeling that justice required of 
 me such a disposition of the property. I confess there 
 were moments when I distrusted the character of one who 
 could urge a claim of this nature in so plain a manner, and 
 that, too, at an instant when the contemplated contingency 
 seemed the more probable from the circumstance that death 
 had so recently been among us. Notwithstanding there 
 was so much frankness in my kinsman's manner, he ap- 
 peared to sympathize so sincerely in my loss, and his opin- 
 ions were so similar to my own, that these unpleasant 
 twinges lasted but for brief intervals. On the whole, my 
 opinion was very favorable to John Wallingford, and, as 
 will be seen in the sequel, he soon obtained my entire con- 
 fidence. 
 
 After the departure of all my kindred I felt, indeed, how 
 completely I was left alone in the world. Lucy passed the 
 night at the rectory, to keep her brother company, and good 
 Mr. Hardinge, though thinking he remained with me to offer 
 sympathy and consolation, found so many demands on his 
 time that I saw but little of him. It is possible he un- 
 derstood me sufficiently well to know thai solitude and re- 
 flection, while the appearance of the first was avoided, were 
 better for one of my temperament than any set forms of 
 condolence. At any rate, he was at hand, while he said but 
 little to me on the subject of my loss. 
 
 At last I got through the day, and a long and dreary day 
 it was to me. The evening came, bland, refreshing, bring- 
 ing with it the softer light of a young moon. I was walk- 
 ing on the lawn, when the beauty of the night brought Grace 
 and her tastes vividly to my mind, and, by a sudden impulse, 
 I was soon swiftly walking towards her now silent grave. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 49 
 
 The highways around Clawbonny were never much fre- 
 quented, but at this hour, and so soon after the solemn 
 procession it had so lately seen, no one was met on the road 
 towards the churchyard. It was months, indeed, after the 
 funeral, that any of the slaves ventured into the latter by 
 night; and even during the day they approached it with an 
 awe that nothing could have inspired but the death of a 
 Wallingford. Perhaps it was owing to my increased age and 
 greater observation, but I fancied that these simple beings 
 felt the death of their young mistress more than they had 
 felt that of my mother. 
 
 St. Michael's churchyard is beautifully ornamented with 
 flourishing cedars. These trees had been cultivated with 
 care, and formed an appropriate ornament for the place. A 
 fine cluster of them shaded the graves of my family, and a 
 rustic seat had been placed beneath their branches, by order 
 of my mother, who had been in the habit of passing hours 
 in meditation at the grave of her husband. Grace and I 
 and Lucy had often repaired to the same place at night, af- 
 ter my mother's death, and there we used to sit many an 
 hour in deep silence, or if utterance was given to a thought, 
 it was in a respectful whisper. As I now approached this 
 seat, I had a bitter satisfaction in remembering that Rupert 
 had never accompanied us in these pious little pilgrimages. 
 Even in the day of her greatest ascendency, Grace had been 
 unable to enlist her admirer in an act so repugnant to his 
 innate character. As for Lucy, her own family lay on one 
 side of that cluster of cedars, as mine lay on the other, and 
 often had I seen the dear young creature weeping, as her 
 eyes were riveted on the graves of relatives she had never 
 known. But my mother had been her mother, and for this 
 friend she felt an attachment almost as strong as that 
 which was entertained by ourselves. I am not certain I 
 ought not to say an attachment quite as strong as our own. 
 
 I was apprehensive iibme visitors might be hovering near 
 the grave of my sister at that witching hour, and I ap- 
 
150 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 proached the cedars cautiously, intending to retire unseen 
 should such prove to be the case. I saw no one, however, 
 and proceeded directly to the line of graves, placing myself 
 at the foot of the freshest and most newly made. Hardly 
 was this done when I heard the word "Miles! " uttered in 
 a low, half-stifled exclamation. It was not easy for me to 
 mistake the voice of Lucy; she was seated so near the 
 trunk of a cedar that her dark dress had been confounded 
 with the shadows of the tree. I went to the spot, and took 
 a seat at her side. 
 
 " I am not surprised to find you here," I said, taking the 
 dear girl's hand, by a sort of mechanical mode of manifest- 
 ing affection which had grown up between us from child- 
 hood, rather than from any sudden impulse — ^'' you that 
 watched over her so faithfully during the last hours of her 
 existence." 
 
 "Ah! Miles," returned a voice that was filled with sad- 
 ness, " how little did I anticipate this when you spoke of 
 Grace in the brief interview we had at the theatre! " 
 
 I understood my companion fully. Lucy had been edu- 
 cated superior to cant and false morals. Her father drew 
 accurate and manly distinctions between sin and the exac- 
 tions of a puritanical presumption that would set up its own 
 narrow notions as the law of God; and, innocent as she 
 was, no thought of error was associated with the indulgence 
 of her innocent pleasures. But Grace, suffering and in sor- 
 row, while she herself had been listening to the wonderful 
 poems of Shakespeare, did present a painful picture to her 
 mind, which, so far from being satisfied with what she had 
 done in my sister's behalf, was tenderly reproachful on ac- 
 count of fancied omissions. 
 
 " It is the will of God, Lucy," I answered. " It must be 
 our effort to be resigned." 
 
 " If you can think thus, Miles, how much easier ought it 
 to be for me, and yet " 
 
 "Yet what, Lucy? I believe you loved my sister as 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I5I 
 
 affectionately as I did myself, but I am sensitive on this 
 point ; and tender, true, warm as I know your heart to be, 
 I cannot allow that even you loved her more. " 
 
 " It is not that, Miles — it is not that. Have I no cause 
 of particular regret — no sense of shame — no feeling of deep 
 humility to add to my grief for her loss? " 
 
 " I understand you, Lucy, and at once answer, no. You 
 are not Rupert any more than Rupert is you. Let all others 
 become what they may, you will ever remain Lucy Hard- 
 inge." 
 
 "I thank you, Miles," answered my companion, gently 
 pressing the hand that still retained hers, " and thank you 
 from my heart. But your generous nature will not see this 
 matter as others might. We were aliens to your blood, 
 dwellers under your own roof, and were bound by every sa- 
 cred obligation to do you no wrong. I would not have my 
 dear, upright father know the truth for worlds." 
 
 " He never will know it, Lucy, and it is my earnest de- 
 sire that we all forget it. Henceforth Rupert and I must 
 be strangers, though the tie that exists between me and the 
 rest of your family will only be drawn the closer for this 
 sad event." 
 
 " Rupert is my brother," Lucy answered, though it was 
 in a voice so low that her words were barely audible. 
 
 "You would not leave me quite alone in the world!" I 
 said, with something like reproachful energy. 
 
 " No, Miles, no — that tie, as you have said, must and 
 should last for life. Nor do I wish you to regard Rupert as 
 of old. It is impossible — improper even — but you can con- 
 cede to us some of that same indulgence which I am so 
 willing to concede to you." 
 
 " Certainly — Rupert is your brother, as you say, and I do 
 not wish you ever to regard him otherwise. He will marry 
 Emily Merton, and I trust he may be happy. Here, over 
 my sister's grave, Lucy, I renew the pledge already made 
 to you, never to act on what has occurred." 
 
152 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 I got no answer to this declaration in words, but Lucy 
 would actually have kissed my hand in gratitude had I per- 
 mitted it. This I could not suffer, however, but raised her 
 own hand to my lips, where it was held until the dear girl 
 gently withdrew it herself. 
 
 " Miles," Lucy said, after a long and thoughtful pause, 
 " it is not good for you to remain at Clawbonny, just at this 
 time. Your kinsman, John Wallingford, has been here, and 
 I think you like him. Why not pay him a visit? He re- 
 sides near Niagara, * West of the Bridge,' as he calls it,* and 
 you might take the opportunity of seeing the * Falls.' " 
 
 " I understand you, Lucy, and am truly grateful for the 
 interest you feel in my happiness. I do not intend to re- 
 remain long at Clawbonny, which I shall leave to-mor- 
 row " 
 
 " To-morrow ! " interrupted Lucy, and I thought like one 
 that was alarmed. 
 
 " Does that appear too early ? I feel the necessity of oc- 
 cupation, as well as of a change of scene. You will remem- 
 ber I have a ship, and interests of moment to myself, to care 
 for : I must turn my face, and move towards the east, instead 
 of towards the west." 
 
 "You intend then, Miles, to pursue this profession of 
 yours?" Lucy said, as I thought, with a little like gentle 
 regret in her manner and tones. 
 
 "Certainly — what better can I do? I want not wealth, 
 I allow; am rich enough already for all my wants, but I 
 have need of occupation. The sea is to my liking, I am 
 still young, and can afford a few more years on the water. 
 I shall never marry " — Lucy started — " and having now no 
 heir nearer than John Wallingford " 
 
 * In the western part of the state of New York, there are several small lakes that He 
 nearly parallel to each other, and not far asunder, with lengths that vary from fifteen 
 to forty miles. The outlet of one of these lakes — the Cayuga— lies in the route of he 
 great thoroughfare to Buffalo, and a bridge of a mile in length was early thrown across 
 it. From this circumstance has arisen the expression of saying, "West of the 
 Bridge" ; meaning the frontier counties, which include, among other districts, that 
 which is also known as the " Genessee Country." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I 53 
 
 "John Wallingford! you have cousins much nearer than 
 he!" 
 
 "That is true; but not of the old line. It was Grace's 
 wish that I should leave our cousin John the Clawbonny 
 property at least, whatever I do with the rest. You are so 
 rich now as not to need it, Lucy ; else would I leave every 
 shilling to you." 
 
 " I believe you would, dear Miles," answered Lucy, with 
 fervent warmth of manner. " You have ever been all that 
 is good and kind to me, and I shall never forget it." 
 
 " Talk of my kindness to you, Lucy, when you parted with 
 every cent you had on earth to give me the gold you possessed 
 on ray going to sea. I am almost sorry you are now so much 
 richer than myself, else would I certainly make you my heir." 
 
 " We will not talk of money any longer in this sacred 
 place," Lucy answered tremulously. " What I did as a fool- 
 ish girl you will forget; we were but children then. Miles." 
 
 So Lucy did not wish me to remember certain passages in 
 our earlier youth I Doubtless her present relations to An- 
 drew Drewett rendered the recollection delicate, if not un- 
 pleasant. I thought this less like herself than was her 
 wont — Lucy, who was usually so simple-minded, so affec- 
 tionate, so frank, and so true. Nevertheless, love is an en- 
 grossing sentiment, as I could feel in my own case, and it 
 might be that its jealous sensitiveness took the alarm at 
 even that which was so innocent and sincere. The effect 
 of these considerations, added to that of Lucy's remark, was 
 to change the discourse, and we conversed long, in melan- 
 choly sadness, of her we had lost, for this life, altogether. 
 
 "We may live, ourselves, to grow old, Miles," Lucy ob- 
 served, " but never shall we cease to remember Grace as she 
 was, and to love her memory as we loved her dear self in 
 life. There has not been an hour since her death that I 
 have not seen her sitting at my side, and conversing in sis- 
 terly confidence, as we ^did from infancy to the day she 
 ceased to live 1 " 
 
154 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 As Lucy said this, she rose, drew her shawl around her, 
 and held out her hand to take leave, for I had spoken of an 
 intention to quit Clawbonny early in the morning. The 
 tears the dear girl shed might have been altogether owing 
 to our previous conversation, or I might have had a share 
 in producing them. Lucy used to weep at parting from me, 
 as well as Grace, and she was not a girl to change with the 
 winds. But I could not part thus; I had a sort of feeling 
 that when we parted this time, it would virtually be a final 
 separation, as the wife of Andrew Drewett never could be 
 exactly that which Lucy Hardinge had now been to me for 
 near twenty years. 
 
 "I will not say farewell now, Lucy," I observed. 
 " Should you not come to town before I sail, I will return 
 to Clawbonny to take leave of you. God only knows what 
 will become of me, or whither I shall be led, and I could 
 wish to defer the leave-takings to the last moment. You 
 and your excellent father must have my final adieus." 
 
 Lucy returned the pressure of my hand, uttered a hasty 
 good-night, and glided through the little gate of the rectory, 
 which by this time we had reached. No doubt she fancied 
 I returned immediately to my own house. So far from this, 
 however, I passed hours alone, in the churchyard, sometimes 
 musing on the dead, and then with all my thoughts bent on 
 the living. I could see the light in Lucy's window, and not 
 till that was extinguished did I retire. It was long past 
 midnight. 
 
 I passed hours teeming with strange emotions among 
 those cedars. Twice I knelt by Grace's grave, and prayed 
 devoutly to God. It seemed to me that petitions offered in 
 such a place must be blessed. I thought of my mother, of 
 my manly, spirited father, of Grace, and of all the past. 
 Then I lingered long beneath Lucy's window, and, in spite 
 of this solemn visit to the graves of the dead, the brightest 
 and most vivid image that I carried away with me was of 
 the living. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 55 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Sky. Three thousand ducats — well. 
 
 Bass. Ay, sir, for three months. 
 
 Shy. For three months — well. 
 
 Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall become bound. 
 
 Shy. Antonio shall become bound — well. 
 
 Merchant 0/ Venice. 
 
 I FOUND John Wallingford in town, awaiting my appear- 
 ance. He had taken lodgings at the City Hotel, on purpose 
 to be under the same roof with me, and we occupied adjoin- 
 ing rooms. I dined with him ; and after dinner he went with 
 me to take a look at the Dawn. The second mate told me 
 that Marble had made a flying visit to the ship, promised to 
 be back again in a few days, and disappeared. By com- 
 paring dates, I ascertained that he would be in time to 
 meet the mortgage sale, and felt no further concern in that 
 behalf. 
 
 "Miles," said John Wallingford, coolly, as we were walk- 
 ing up Pine street, on our way back towards the tavern, " did 
 you not tell me you employed Richard Harrison as a legal 
 adviser? " 
 
 " I did. Mr. Hardinge made me acquainted with him, 
 and I understand he is one of the oldest lawyers in the 
 country. That is his office, on the other side of the street 
 — here, directly opposite." 
 
 " I saw it, and that was the reason I spoke. It might be 
 well just to step in and give some directions about your 
 will. I wish to see Clawbonny put in the right line. If 
 you would give me a deed of it for one dollar, I would not 
 take it from you, the only son of an eldest son ; but it 
 would break my heart to hear of its going out of the name. 
 Mr. Harrison is also an»old adviser and friend of mine." 
 
 I was startled with this plain-dealing; yet, there was 
 
156 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 something about the manner of the man that prevented my 
 being displeased. 
 
 " Mr. Harrison would not be visible at this hour, but I 
 will cross to the office, and write him a letter on the sub- 
 ject/' I answered, doing as I said on the instant, and leav- 
 ing John Wallingford to pursue his way to the house alone. 
 The next day, however, the will was actually drawn up, ex- 
 ecuted, and placed in my cousin's hands, he being the sole 
 executor. If the reader should ask me why I did this, espe- 
 cially the last, I might be at a loss to answer. A strange 
 confidence had come over me, as respects this relative, 
 whose extraordinary frankness even a more experienced 
 man might have believed to be either the height of honesty 
 or the perfection of art. Whichever was the case, I not only 
 left my will with him, but, in the course of the next week, 
 I let him into the secret of all my pecuniary affairs; Grace's 
 bequest to Rupert, alone, excepted. John Wallingford en- 
 couraged this confidence, telling me that plunging at once, 
 heart and hand, into the midst of business, was the most 
 certain mode of forgetting my causes of sorrow. Plunge 
 into anything with my whole heart I could not, then, 
 though I endeavored to lose my cares in business. 
 
 One of my first acts, in the way of affairs, was to look 
 after the note I had given to Rupert. It had been made 
 payable at the bank where I kept my deposits, and I went 
 thither to inquire if it had been left for collection. The 
 following conversation passed between myself and the cash- 
 ier on this occasion : 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. ," I said, saluting the gentle- 
 man; "I have come to inquire if a note for $20,000, made 
 by me in favor of Rupert Hardinge, Esquire, at ten days, 
 has been left for collection. If so, I am ready to pay it now." 
 
 The cashier gave me a business smile — one that spoke 
 favorably of my standing as a moneyed man — before he an- 
 swered the question. This smile was also a sign that 
 money was plenty. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 57 
 
 "Not absolutely for collection, Captain Wallingford, as 
 nothing would give us more pleasure than to renew it, if 
 you would just go through the form of obtaining a city en- 
 dorser." 
 
 " Mr. Hardinge has then left it for collection," I observed, 
 pained, in spite of all that had passed, at Rupert's giving 
 this conclusive evidence of the inherent meanness of his 
 character. 
 
 " Not exactly for collection, sir," was the cashier's answer, 
 "for wishing to anticipate the money by a few days, and 
 being under the necessity of leaving town, we discounted it 
 for him." 
 
 "Anticipate! — you have discounted the note, sir? " 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure, knowing it to be good. Mr. 
 Hardinge remarked that you had not found it convenient to 
 draw for so large a sum on the spot, and had given this note 
 at short date; and the consideration having been received 
 in full, he was desirous of being put in cash at once. We 
 did not hesitate, of course." 
 
 " Consideration received in full ! " escaped me, spite of a 
 determination to be cool; but, luckily, the appearance of 
 another person on business prevented the words or the man- 
 ner from being noted. " Well, Mr. Cashier, I will draw a 
 check and take up the note, now." 
 
 More smiles followed. The check was given ; the note 
 was cancelled and handed to me, and I left the bank with a 
 balance in my favor of rather more than $10,000, instead of 
 the $30,000 odd which I had held previously to entering it. 
 It is true, I was heir-at-law to all Grace's assets, which Mr. 
 Hardinge had handed over to me the morning I left Claw- 
 bonny, duly assigned and transferred. These last consisted 
 of stocks, and of bonds and mortgages drawing interest, 
 being on good farms in our own county. 
 
 "Well, Miles, what do you mean to do with your ship? " 
 demanded Jack Wallingford, that evening. " I understand 
 the freight for which you bargained has been transferred to 
 
158 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 another owner, on account of your late troubles; and they 
 tell me freights, just now, are not very high." 
 
 " Really, cousin Jack, I am hardly prepared to answer the 
 question. Colonial produce commands high prices in the 
 north of Germany, they tell me; and were I in cash I would 
 buy a cargo on my own account. Some excellent sugars and 
 coffees, etc., were offered me to-day, quite reasonably, for 
 ready money." 
 
 " And how much cash would be necessary to carry out 
 that scheme, my man ? " 
 
 "Some $50,000, more or less, while I have but about 
 $10,000 on hand, though I can command $20,000 additional 
 by selling certain securities, so I must abandon the notion." 
 
 "That does not follow necessarily. Let me think a night 
 on it, and we will talk further in the morning. I like quick 
 bargains, but I like a cool head. This hot town and old 
 Madeira keep me in a fever, and I wish a night's rest before 
 I make a bargain." 
 
 The next morning John Wallingford returned to the sub- 
 ject, at breakfast, which meal we took by ourselves, in order 
 to be at liberty to converse without any auditors. 
 
 " I have thought over that sweet subject, the sugars. Miles," 
 commenced my cousin, "and approve of the plan. Can 
 you give me any further security if I will lend you the 
 money ? " 
 
 " I have some bonds and mortgages, to the amount of 
 twenty-two thousand dollars, with me, which might be as- 
 signed for such a purpose." 
 
 "But $22,000 are an insufficient security for the $30,000, 
 or $35,000, which you may need to carry out your adven- 
 ture." 
 
 " That is quite true, but I have nothing else worth men- 
 tioning — unless it be the ship or Clawbonny." 
 
 "Tut for the ship! — she is gone if you and your cargo 
 go; and as for insurances, I want none of them — I am a 
 landed man, and like landed securities. Give me your 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 159 
 
 note at three months, or six months if you will, with the 
 bonds and mortgages you mention, and a mortgage on Claw- 
 bonny, and you can have $40,000 this very day, should you 
 need them." 
 
 I was surprised at this offer, having no notion my kins- 
 man was rich enough to lend so large a sum. On a further 
 conversation, however, I learned he had near double the 
 sum he had mentioned in ready money, and that his princi- 
 pal business in town was to invest in good city securities. 
 He professed himself willing, however, to lend me half, in 
 order to help along a kinsman he liked. I did not at all 
 relish the notion of mortgaging Clawbonny, but John soon 
 laughed and reasoned me out of that. As for Grace's secu- 
 rities, I parted with them with a sort of satisfaction; the 
 idea of holding her effects being painful to me. 
 
 " Were it out of the family, or even out of the name, I 
 should think something of it myself, Miles," he said, " but 
 a mortgage from you to me is like one from me to you. You 
 have made me your heir, and to be honest with you, boy, / 
 have made you mine. If you lose my money, you lose your 
 own." 
 
 There was no resisting this. My kinsman's apparent 
 frankness and warmth of disposition overcame all my scru- 
 ples, and I consented to borrow the money on his own terms. 
 John Wallingford was familiar with the conveyancing of 
 real estate, and with his own hand he filled up the necessary 
 papers, which I signed. The money was borrowed at five 
 per cent., my cousin positively refusing to receive the legal 
 rate of interest from a Wallingford. Pay-day was put at 
 six months' distance, and all was done in due form. 
 
 " I shall not put this mortgage on record, Miles," Jack 
 Wallingford remarked, as he folded and endorsed the paper. 
 " I have too much confidence in your honesty to believe 
 it necessary. You have given one mortgage on Clawbonny 
 with too much reluctance^ to render it probable you will be 
 in a hurry to execute another. As for myself, I own to a 
 
l6o MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 secret pleasure in having even this incomplete hold on the 
 old place, which makes me feel twice as much of a Wal- 
 lingford as I ever felt before." 
 
 For my part, I wondered at my kinsman's family pride, 
 and I began to think I had been too humble in my own esti- 
 mate of our standing in the world. It is true, it was not 
 easy to deceive myself in this particular, and in point of 
 fact I was certainly right; but when I found a man who 
 was able to lend $40,000 at an hour's notice, valuing him- 
 self on coming from Miles the First, I could not avoid fan- 
 cying Miles the First a more considerable personage than 
 I had hitherto imagined. As for the money, I was gratified 
 with the confidence John Wallingford reposed in me, had 
 really a wish to embark in the adventure for which it sup- 
 plied the means, and regarded the abstaining from recording 
 the mortgage an act of delicacy and feeling that spoke well 
 for the lender's heart. 
 
 My cousin did not cast me adrift, as soon as he had filled 
 my pockets. On the contrary, he went with me, and was a 
 witness to all the purchases I made. The colonial produce 
 was duly bought, in his presence, and many a shrewd hint 
 did I get from this cool-headed and experienced man, who, 
 while he was no merchant, in the common sense of the 
 term, had sagacity enough to make a first-class dealer. As 
 I paid for everything in ready money, the cargo was ob- 
 tained on good terms, and the Dawn was soon stowed. As 
 soon as this was done, I ordered a crew shipped, and the 
 hatches battened on. 
 
 As a matter of course, the constant and important busi- 
 ness with which I was now occupied had a tendency to dull 
 the edge of my grief, though I can truly say that the image 
 of Grace was never long absent from my mind, even in the 
 midst of my greatest exertions. Nor was Lucy forgotten. 
 She was usually at my sister's side, and it never happened 
 that I remembered the latter, without seeing the beautiful 
 semblance of her living friend, watching over her faded 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. l6l 
 
 form, with sisterly solicitude. John Wallingford left me at 
 the end of a week, after seeing me fairly under way as a 
 merchant, as well as a ship-owner and ship-master. 
 
 "Farewell, Miles,'' he said, as he shook my hand with a 
 cordiality that appeared to increase the longer he knew me; 
 " farewell, my dear boy, and may God prosper you in all 
 your lawful and just undertakings. Never forget you are a 
 Wallingford, and the owner of Clawbonny. Should we 
 meet again, you will find a true friend in me; should we 
 never meet, you will have reason to remember me." 
 
 This leave-taking occurred at the inn. A few hours after 
 I was in the cabin of the Dawn, arranging some papers, 
 when I heard a well-known voice on deck, calling out to the 
 stevedores and riggers, in a tone of authority, " Come, bear 
 a hand, and lay aft; off that forecastle; to this derrick — 
 who ever saw a derrick standing before, after the hatches 
 were battened down, in a first-class ship — a regular A No. 
 I ? Bear a hand — bear a hand ; you've got an old sea-dog 
 among you, men." 
 
 There was no mistaking the person. On reaching the 
 deck, I found Marble, his coat off, but still wearing all the 
 rest of his " go-ashores," flourishing about among the labor- 
 ers, putting into them new life and activity. He heard my 
 footsteps behind him, but never turned to salute me until 
 the matter in hand was terminated. Then I received that 
 honor, and it was easy to see the cloud that passed over his 
 red visage, as he observed the deep mourning in which I 
 was clad. 
 
 "Good morning to you, Captain Wallingford," he said, 
 making a mate's bow — "good morning, sir. God's will be 
 done! we are all sinners, and so are some of the stevedores, 
 who've left this derrick standing as if the ship needed it for 
 a jury-mast. Yes, sir, God's will must be submitted to; 
 and sorry enough was I to read the obittery in the newspa- 
 pers — Grace, etc., daughter, etc., and only sister, etc. You'll 
 be glad to hear, however, sir, that Willow Cove is moored 
 II 
 
l62 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 head and starn in the family, as one might say, and that the 
 bloody mortgage is cut adrift." 
 
 " I am glad to hear this, Mr. Marble," I answered, sub- 
 mitting to a twinge, as I remembered that a mortgage had 
 just been placed on my own paternal acres; " and I trust the 
 place will long remain in your blood. How did you leave 
 your mother and niece? " 
 
 " I've not left 'em at all, sir. I brought the old lady and 
 Kitty to town with me, on what I call the mutual sight-see- 
 ing principle. They are both up at my boarding-house." 
 
 " I am not certain, Moses, that I understand this mutual 
 principle, of which you speak." 
 
 "God bless you, Miles," returned the mate, who could 
 presume to be familiar, again, now we had walked so far aft 
 as not to have any listeners; "call me Moses as often as 
 you possibly can, for it's little I hear of that pleasant sound 
 now. Mother will dub me Oloff, and little Kitty calls me 
 nothing but uncle. After all, I have a bulrush feelin' 
 about me, and Moses will always seem the most nat'ral. 
 As for the mutual principle, it is just this: I'm to show 
 mother the Dawn, one or two of the markets — for, would 
 you believe it, the dear old soul never saw a market and is 
 dying to visit one, and so I shall take her to see the Bear 
 first, and the Oswego next, and the Fly last, though she 
 cries out agin' a market that is much visited by flies. Then 
 I must introduce her to one of the Dutch churches ; after 
 that 'twill go hard with me but I get the dear soul into the 
 theatre; and they tell me there is a lion, up town, that will 
 roar as loud as a bull. That she must see, of course." 
 
 " And when your mother has seen all these sights, what 
 will she have to show you ? " 
 
 "The tombstone on which I was laid out, as a body might 
 say, at five weeks old. She tells me they traced the stone, 
 out of feelin' like, and followed it up until they fairly found 
 it, set down as the headstone of an elderly single lady, with 
 a most pious and edifying inscription on it. Mother says 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 63 
 
 it contains a whole varse from the Bible ! That stone may 
 yet stand me in hand, for anything I know to the contrary, 
 Miles." 
 
 I congratulated my mate on this important discovery, and 
 inquired the particulars of the affair with the old usurer; in 
 what manner the money was received, and by what process 
 the place had been so securely " moored, head and starn in 
 the family." 
 
 " It was all plain sailing when a fellow got on the right 
 course," Marble answered. "Do you know. Miles, that 
 they call paying off one of your heavy loads on land, * lifting 
 the mortgage'; and a lift it is, I can tell you, when a man 
 has no money to do it with. The true way to get out of 
 debt is to 'arn money ; I've found that much out since I 
 found my mother; and, the cash in hand, all you have to do 
 is to hand it over. Old Van Tassel was civil enough when 
 he saw the bag of dollars, and was full of fine speeches. He 
 didn't wish to distress the * worthy Mrs. Wetmore, not he; 
 and she was welcome to keep the money as long as she 
 pleased, provided the interest was punctually paid '; but I'd 
 have none of his soft words, and laid down the Spaniards, 
 and told him to count them. I * lifted his encumbrance,' as 
 they called it, as easily as if it had been a pillow of fresh 
 feathers, and walked off with that bit of paper in my hands, 
 with the names tore off it, and satisfaction give me, as my 
 lawyer said. This law is droll business. Miles; if money 
 is paid, they give you satisfaction, just as gentlemen call on 
 each other, you know, when a little cross. But, whatever 
 you do, never put your hand and seal to a mortgage ; for 
 land under such a curse is as likely to slide one way as the 
 other. Clawbonny is an older place than Willow Cove, 
 even ; and both are too venerable and venerated to be mort- 
 gaged." 
 
 The advice came too late. Clawbonny was mortgaged 
 already, and I confess to several new and violent twinges, 
 as I recalled the fact, while Marble was telling his story. 
 
164 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Still I could not liken my kinsman — plain-talking, warm- 
 hearted, family-loving — John Wallingford, to such a grip- 
 ing usurer as Mrs. Wetmore's persecutor. 
 
 I was glad to see my mate on every account. He relieved 
 me from a great deal of irksome duty, and took charge of the 
 ship, bringing his mother and Kitty, that very day, to live 
 in the cabin. I could perceive that the old woman was 
 greatly surprised at the neatness she found in all directions. 
 According to her notions, a ship floated nearly as much in 
 tar as in the water; and great was her pleasure in finding 
 rooms almost (conscience will not allow me to say quite) as 
 clean as her own residence. For one whole day she desired 
 to see no more than the ship, though it was easy to discover 
 that the good woman had set her heart on the Dutch church 
 and the lion. In due time her son redeemed all his pledges, 
 not forgetting the theatre. With the last, good Mrs. Wet- 
 more was astounded, and Kitty infinitely delighted. The 
 pretty little thing confessed that she should like to go every 
 night, wondered what Horace Bright would think of it, and 
 whether he would dare venture alone to a play-house, should 
 he happen to come to York. In 1803 this country was still 
 in the palmy state of unsophistication. There were few, 
 scarcely any, strolling players, and none but those who vis- 
 ited the cities^ properly so called, enjoyed opportunities of 
 witnessing the wonders of paint, patch, and candle-light, as 
 auxiliary to the other wonders of the stage. Poor little 
 Kitty ! There was a day or two during which the sock and 
 buskin wrought their usual effect on her female nature, and 
 almost eclipsed the glories of Horace Bright, in her own 
 bright eyes. 
 
 I could not refrain from accompanying Marble's party to 
 the museum. In that day, this was a somewhat insignifi- 
 cant collection of curiosities, in Greenwich street, but it was 
 a miracle to the aunt and niece. Even the worthy Manhat- 
 tanese were not altogether guiltless of esteeming it a won- 
 der, though the greater renown of the Philadelphia Museum 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 16$ 
 
 kept this of New York a little in the shade. I have often 
 had occasion to remark that, in this republic, the people in 
 the country are a little less country, and the people of the 
 towns a good deal less town, than is apt to be the case in 
 great nations. The last is easily enough accounted for: the 
 towns having shot up so rapidly, and receiving their acces- 
 sions of population from classes not accustomed to town 
 lives from childhood. Were a thousand villages to be com- 
 pressed into a single group of houses, their people would 
 long retain the notions, tastes, and habits of villagers, 
 though they would form a large town in the aggregate. 
 Such, in a measure, is still the fact with our American 
 towns; no one of them all having the air, tone, or appear- 
 ance of a capital, while most of them would be paragons in 
 the eyes of such persons as old Mrs. Wetmore and her grand- 
 daughter. Thus it was that the Greenwich street Museum 
 gave infinite satisfaction to these two unsophisticated visi- 
 tors. Kitty was most struck with certain villainous wax- 
 figures — works of art that were much on a level with certain 
 similar objects that were lately, if they are not now, exhib- 
 ited for the benefit of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster 
 Abbey, above the tombs of the Plantagenets, and almost 
 in contact with that marvel of Gothic art, Henry VII. 's 
 chapel ! It is said that " misery makes a man acquainted with 
 strange bed-fellows." So, it would seem, do shillings and 
 sixpences. To return to Kitty: after admiring divers beau- 
 ties, such as the New York Beauty, the South Carolina 
 Beauty, and the Pennsylvania Beauty, she fastened her own 
 pretty eyes on a nun, wondering who a female in such an 
 attire could be. In 1803, a nun and a nunnery would be 
 almost as great curiosities in America as a rhinoceros, 
 though the country has since undergone some changes in 
 this respect. 
 
 "Grandmother," exclaimed Kitty, "who <:an that lady be 
 — it isn't Zady Washington, is it? " 
 
 " It looks more like a clergyman's wife, Kitty," answered 
 
1 66 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the worthy Mrs. Wetmore, not a little " non-plushed^^^ her- 
 self, as she afterward admitted. " I should think Madam 
 Washington went more gayly dressed, and looked happier 
 like. I'm sure if any woman could be happy, it was she! " 
 
 " Ay," answered her son, " there is truth in that remark. 
 This woman, here, is what is called a nun in the Roman 
 Catholic quarters of the world." 
 
 "A nun! " repeated little Kitty. "Isn't that the sort of 
 woman that shuts herself up in a house, and promises never 
 to get married, uncle ? " 
 
 " You're quite right, my dear, and it's matter of surprise 
 to me how you should pick up so many useful idees, in an 
 out-of-the-way place, like Willow Cove." 
 
 " It was not out of your way, uncle," said Kitty, a little 
 reproachfully, " or you never would have found us." 
 
 " In that partic'lar it was well enough, my dear. Yes, a 
 nun is a sort of she-hermit, a breed that I detest altogether." 
 
 " I suppose, Kitty," I inquired, " you think it wicked in 
 man or woman to take a vow never to get married." 
 
 The poor girl blushed, and she turned away from the nun 
 without making any reply. No one can say what turn the 
 conversation might have taken, had not the grandmother's 
 eye fell on an indifferent copy of Leonardo's celebrated pic- 
 ture of the Last Supper, receiving at the same time a printed 
 explanation, one got up by some local antiquary, who had 
 ventured to affix names to the different personages of the 
 group, at his own suggestion. I pointed out the principal 
 figure of the painting, which is sufficiently conspicuous, by 
 the way, and then referred the good woman to the catalogue 
 for the rest of the names. 
 
 " Bless me, bless me ! " exclaimed the worthy mother, 
 " that I should live ever to see paintings of such people! 
 Kitty, my dear, this bald-headed old man is St. Peter. Did 
 you ever think that St. Peter was bald? And there is St. 
 John, with black eyes. Wonderful, wonderful, that I should 
 ever live to see likenesses of such blessed men! " 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 16/ 
 
 Kitty was as much astonished as her grandmother, and 
 even the son was a little mystified. The latter remarked 
 that "the world was making great headway in all such 
 things, and, for his part, he did not see how the painters 
 and authors found out all they drew and recorded." 
 
 The reader may easily imagine that half a day spent in 
 such company was not entirely thrown away. Still, half a 
 day sufficed; and I went to the Old Coffee-house at one, to 
 eat a sandwich and drink a glass of porter ; that being the 
 inn then most frequented for such purposes, especially by 
 the merchants. I was in my box, with the curtain drawn, 
 when a party of three entered that which adjoined it, order- 
 ing as many glasses of punch; which in that day was a bev- 
 erage much in request of a morning, and which it was per- 
 mitted even to a gentleman to drink before dining. It was 
 the sherry-cobbler of the age; although I believe every- 
 thing is now pronounced to be out of fashion before dinner. 
 
 As the boxes were separated merely by curtains, it was 
 impossible to avoid hearing any conversation that passed in 
 the one adjoining my own, especially when the parties took 
 no pains to speak low, as happened to be the case with my 
 three neighbors. Consequently, I recognized the voices of 
 Andrew Drewett and Rupert Hardinge in an instant; that 
 of the third person being unknown to me. 
 
 " Well, Norton," said Rupert, a little affectedly as to man- 
 ner, " you have got Drewett and myself down here among 
 you traders, and I hope you will do the honors of the place 
 in a way to confer on the latter some credit. A merchant is 
 nothing without credit, you know." 
 
 " Have no apprehensions for your gentility, Hardinge,'* 
 returned the person addressed. " Many of the first persons 
 in town frequent this house, at this hour, and its punch is 
 renowned. By the way, I saw in a paper, the other day, 
 Rupert, that one of your relatives is dead — Miss Grace Wal- 
 lingford, your sister's oW associate." 
 
 A short pause followed, during which I scarcely breathed. 
 
1 68 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "No, not a relation," Rupert at length answered. "Only 
 my father's ward. You know how it is in the country : the 
 clergyman being expected to take care of all the sick and 
 all the orphans." 
 
 " But these Wallingfords are people altogether above 
 standing in need of favors," Drewett hastily observed. " I 
 have been at their place, and really it is a respectable spot. 
 As for Miss Wallingford, she was a most charming girl, and 
 her death will prove a severe blow to your sister, Hardinge." 
 
 This was said with so much feeling that I could almost 
 forgive the speaker for loving Lucy, though I question if I 
 could ever truly forgive him for being beloved by her, 
 
 "Why, yes," rejoined Rupert, affecting an indifference 
 that I could detect he was far from feeling, "Grace was a 
 good creature; though, living so much with her in child- 
 hood, she had less interest in my eyes, perhaps, than she 
 might have had in those of one less accustomed to see her. 
 Notwithstanding, I had a sort of regard for Grace, I will 
 confess." 
 
 "Respect and esteem her, I should think all who knew 
 her must," added Drewett, as if determined to win my heart; 
 " and, in my opinion, she was both beautiful and lovely." 
 
 " This from a man who is confessedly an admirer, nay, 
 engaged to your own sister, as the world says, Hardinge, 
 must be taken as warm praise," said the third. " But I 
 suppose Drewett sees the dear departed with the eyes of her 
 friend — for Miss Hardinge was very intimate with her, I 
 believe." 
 
 " As intimate as sisters, and loving each other as sisters," 
 returned Drewett, with feeling. " No intimate of Miss Hard- 
 inge's can be anything but meritorious." 
 
 "Grace Wallingford had merit beyond a question," added 
 Rupert, " as has her brother, who is a good, honest fellow 
 enough. When a boy, /was rather intimate with ^/w." 
 
 "The certain proof of his excellences and virtues," put 
 in the stranger, laughing. " But, if a ward, there must be a 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 69 
 
 fortune. I think I have heard these Wallingfords were 
 richish." 
 
 " Yes, that is just it — rtchish" said Drewett. " Some 
 forty or fifty thousand dollars between them, all of which 
 the brother must now inherit; and glad am I it falls to so 
 good a fellow/' 
 
 " This is generous praise from you^ Drewett, for I have 
 heard this brother might prove your rival." 
 
 " I had some such fears myself, once, I will confess," re- 
 turned the other, "but they are all vanished. I no longer 
 fear him, and can see and acknowledge his merits. Besides, 
 I am indebted to him for my life." 
 
 " No longer fear him.^^ This was plain enough, and was 
 proof of the understanding that existed between the lovers. 
 And why should I be feared ? I, who had never dared to 
 say a word to the object nearest my heart that might induce 
 her to draw the ordinary distinction between passion and 
 esteem — love, and a brotherly regard.-* 
 
 " Ay, Drewett is pretty safe, I fancy," Rupert remarked, 
 laughing; "though it will hardly do for me to tell tales out 
 of school." 
 
 "This is a forbidden subject," rejoined the lover, "and 
 we will talk of Wallingford. He must inherit his sister's 
 fortune." 
 
 " Poor Grace ! it was little she had to leave, I fancy," 
 Rupert quietly observed. 
 
 "Ay, little in your eyes, Hardinge," added the third per- 
 son, " but a good deal in those of her brother, the shipmas- 
 ter, one might think. Ever since you have fallen heir to 
 Mrs. Bradfort's estate, a few thousands count for nothing." 
 
 " Were it a million, that brother would think it dearly 
 purchased by the loss of his sister! " exclaimed Drewett. 
 
 " It's plain enough there is no rivalry between Andrew 
 and Miles," added the laughing Rupert. " Certainly money 
 is not quite of so much account with me now as it used to 
 be when I had nothing but a clergyman's salary to glean 
 
I70 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 from. As for Mrs. Bradfort's fortune, it came from a com- 
 mon ancestor, and I do not see who has a better right to it 
 than those who now enjoy it." 
 
 "Unless it might be your father," said the third man, 
 " who stood before you, according to the laws of primogeni- 
 ture. I dare say Rupert made love to his venerable cousin, 
 if the truth were known, and induced her to overlook a gen- 
 eration with his oily tongue." 
 
 "Rupert did nothing of the sort; it is his glory to love 
 Emily Merton, and Emily Merton only. As my worthy 
 cousin could not take her fortune with her, she left it among 
 her natural heirs. How do you know I have got any of it? 
 I give you my honor, my account in bank is under $20,000." 
 
 " A pretty fair account, that, by Jove ! " exclaimed the 
 other. " It must be a rapping income that will permit a 
 fellow like you to keep up such a balance." 
 
 " Why, some persons say my sister has the whole fortune. 
 I dare say that Drewett can satisfy you on this head. The 
 affair concerns him quite as much as it does any other per- 
 son of my acquaintance." 
 
 " I can assure you I know nothing about it," answered 
 Drewett, honestly. "Nor do I desire to know. I would 
 marry Miss Hardinge to-morrow, though she had not a 
 cent." 
 
 " It's just this disinterestedness, Andrew, that makes me 
 like you," observed Rupert, magnificently. " Depend on it, 
 you'll fare none the worse, in the long run, for this admira- 
 ble trait in your character. Lucy knows it, and appreciates 
 it as she should." 
 
 I wished to hear no more, but left the box and the house, 
 taking care not to be seen. From that moment, I was all 
 impatience to get to sea. I forgot even the intention of vis- 
 iting my sister's grave; nor did I feel that I could sustain 
 another interview with Lucy herself. That afternoon I told 
 Marble the ship must be ready to sail the succeeding morn- 
 ing. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I7I 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Go, tenderness of years ; take this key. Give enlargement to the swain — ^bring him 
 festinately hither. I must employ him in a letter to my love. 
 
 Love's Labor Lost, 
 
 I WILL not attempt to analyze the feelings which now im- 
 pelled me to quit America. I had discovered, or thought I 
 had discovered, certain qualities in Andrew Drewett which 
 rendered him, in some measure at least, worthy of Lucy; 
 and I experienced how painful it is to concede such an ad- 
 vantage to a rival. Still, I must be just enough to add 
 that, in my cooler moments, when I came to consider that 
 Lucy could never be mine, I was rejoiced to find such proofs 
 of a generous disposition in her future husband. On the 
 other hand, I could not divest myself of the idea that perfect 
 confidence in his own position could alone enable him to be 
 so liberal in his opinions of myself. The reader will un- 
 derstand how extravagant was this last supposition, when he 
 remembers that I had never given Lucy herself, or the 
 world, any sufficient reason to suppose that I was a suitor 
 for the dear girl's hand. 
 
 I never saw Marble so industrious as he proved to be 
 when he received my hurried orders for sailing that after- 
 noon. He shipped his mother and niece for Willow Cove, 
 by an Albany sloop, the same evening, got the crew on 
 board, and the Dawn into the stream, before sunset, and 
 passed half the night in sending off small stores. As for 
 the ship, she had been cleared the day the hatches were 
 battened down. According to every rule of mercantile 
 thrift, I ought to have been at sea twenty-four hours, when 
 these orders were given; but a lingering reluctance to go 
 further from the grave of Grace, the wish to have one more 
 interview with Lucy, and a disposition to indulge my mate 
 in his commendable zeal to«amuse his new-found relatives, 
 kept me in port beyond my day. 
 
1/2 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 All these delays, however, were over, and I was now in a 
 feverish hurry to be off. Neb came up to the City Hotel as 
 I was breakfasting, and reported that the ship was tiding at 
 single anchor, with a short range, and that the foretopsail 
 was loose. I sent him to the post office for letters, and 
 ordered my bill. All my trunks had gone aboard before the 
 ship hauled off, and — the distances in New York then being 
 short — Neb was soon back and ready to shoulder my carpet- 
 bag. The bill was paid, three or four letters were taken in 
 my hand, and I walked towards the Battery, followed by the 
 faithful black, who had again abandoned home, Chloe, and 
 Clawbonny, to follow my fortunes. 
 
 I delayed opening the letters until I reached the Battery. 
 Dispatching Neb to the boat, with orders to wait, I took a 
 turn among the trees — still reluctant to quit the native soil 
 — while I broke the seals. Two of the letters bore the post- 
 marks of the office nearest Clawbonny ; the third was from 
 Albany; and the fourth was a packet of some size from 
 Washington, franked by the Secretary of State, and bearing 
 the seal of office. Surprised at such a circumstance, I 
 opened the last of these communications first. 
 
 The official letter proved to be an envelope containing — 
 with a civil request to myself to deliver the enclosures — 
 dispatches addressed to the Consul at Hamburg, for which 
 port my ship had been advertised some time. Of course I 
 could only determine to comply; and that communication 
 was disposed of. One of the Clawbonny letters was in Mr. 
 Hardinge's hand, and I found it to contain some excellent 
 and parental advice. He spoke of my sister, but it was 
 calmly, and with the humble hope that became his sacred 
 office. I was not sorry to find that he advised me not to 
 visit Clawbonny before I sailed. Lucy, he said, was well, 
 and a gentle sadness was gradually taking the place of the 
 livelier grief she had endured, immediately after the loss of 
 her friend. "You were not aware, Miles, how keenly she 
 suffered," my good old guardian continued, " for she strug- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1/3 
 
 gled hard to seem calm in your presence ; but from me my 
 dear child had no secrets on this subject, whatever she may 
 see fit to have on another. Hours has she passed, weeping 
 on my bosom, and I much doubt if the image of Grace has 
 been absent from her waking thoughts a single minute, at 
 any one time, since we first laid your sister's head in the 
 coffin. Of you she does not speak often, but, when she does, 
 it is ever in the kindest and most solicitous manner; call- 
 ing you *Miles,' *poor Miles,' or *dear Miles,' with all that 
 sisterly frankness and affection you have known in her from 
 childhood." The old gentleman had underscored the "j/j- 
 terly'*'* himself. 
 
 To my delight and suprise, there was a long, very long, 
 letter from Lucy, too ! How it happened that I did not rec- 
 ognize her pretty, delicate, ladylike handwriting is more 
 than I can say ; but the direction had been overlooked in 
 the confusion of receiving so many letters together. That 
 direction, too, gave me pleasure. It was to " Miles Wal- 
 iingford, Esquire"; whereas the three others were addressed 
 to "Captain Miles Wallingford, ship Dawn, New York." 
 Now a shipmaster is no more entitled, in strict usage, to be 
 called a " captain," than he is to be called an ' esquire." 
 Your man-of-war officer is the only true captain ; a " master" 
 being nothing but a " master." Then, no American is en- 
 titled to be called an "esquire," which is the correlative of 
 "knight," and is a title properly prohibited by the Constitu- 
 tion, though most people imagine that a magistrate is an 
 " esquire," ex officio. He is an " esquire " as a member of 
 Congress is an "honorable," by assumption, and not of 
 right; and I wish the country had sufficient self-respect to 
 be consistent with itself. What should we think of Mark 
 Anthony, Esquire? or of 'Squire Lucius Junius Brutus? or 
 His Excellency Julius Caesar, Esquire? Nevertheless, 
 "esquire" is an appellatioji that is now universally given to 
 
 • A few years since, the writer saw a marriage announced in a colored paper, which 
 read, " Married, by the Rev, Julius Caesar, Washington, to Miss ." 
 
1/4 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 a gentleman, who, in truth, is the only man in this country 
 that has any right to it at all, and he only by courtesy. 
 Lucy had felt this distinction, and I was grateful for the 
 delicacy and tact with which she had dropped the " captain," 
 and put in the " esquire." To me it seemed to say that she 
 recognized me as one of her own class, let Rupert and his 
 light associates think of me as they might. Lucy never de- 
 parted a hair's breadth from the strictly proper, in all mat- 
 ters of this sort, something having been obtained from edu- 
 cation, but far more from the inscrutable gifts of nature. 
 
 As for the letter itself, it is too long to copy ; yet I scarce 
 know how to describe it. Full of heart it was, of course, 
 for the dear girl was all heart; and it was replete with her 
 truth and nature. The only thing in it that did not give 
 me entire satisfaction was a request not to come again to 
 Clawbonny until my return from Europe. "Time," she 
 added, "will lessen the pain of such a visit; and, by that 
 time, you will begin to regard our beloved Grace as I 
 already regard her, a spotless spirit waiting for our union 
 with it in the mansions of bliss. It is not easy. Miles, to 
 know how to treat such a loss as this of ours. God may 
 bless it to our lasting good, and, in this light, it is useful 
 to bear it ever in mind; while a too great submission to 
 sorrow may only serve to render us unhappy. Still, I think, 
 no one who knew Grace, as we knew her, can ever recall her 
 image without feeling himself drawn nearer to the dread 
 being who created her, and who has called her to himself 
 so early. We^ alone, thoroughly understood the beloved 
 creature ! My dear, excellent father loved her as he loves 
 me, but he could not, did not know all the rare virtues of 
 her heart. These could be known only to those who knew 
 her great secret, and, God be praised ! even Rupert has little 
 true knowledge of that. 
 
 " My father has spoken to me of Grace's wish that he 
 and I should accept some memorials of the affection she 
 bore us. These were unnecessary, but are far too sacred to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I /J 
 
 be declined. I sincerely wish that their value in gold had 
 been less, for the hair I possess (some of which is reserved 
 for you) is far more precious to me than any diamonds or 
 stones could possibly become. As, however, something 
 must be purchased or procured, I have to request that my 
 memorial may be the pearls you gave Grace on your return 
 from the Pacific. Of course I do not mean the valuable 
 necklace you have reserved for one who will one day be still 
 dearer to you than any of us, but the dozen or two of pearls 
 that you bestowed on your sister, in my presence, at Claw- 
 bonny. They are sufficiently valuable in themselves to 
 answer all the purposes of Grace's bequest, and I know 
 they were very much prized by her, as your gift, dear Miles. 
 I am certain you will not believe they will be the less valu- 
 able in my eyes on that account. As I know where they 
 are, I shall go to Clawbonny and take possession of them at 
 once, so you need give yourself no further concern on account 
 of the memorial that was to be presented to me. I acknowl- 
 edge its reception, unless you object to my proposition." 
 
 I scarce knew what to think of this. I would gladly have 
 bestowed on Lucy pearls of equal value to those I had given 
 Grace, but she refused to receive them, and now she asked 
 for these very pearls, which, intrinsically, were not half the 
 value of the sum I had informed Mr. Hardinge Grace had 
 requested me to expend in purchasing a memorial. This 
 avidity to possess these pearls — for so it struck me — was 
 difficult to account for, Grace having owned divers other 
 ornaments that were more costly, and which she had much 
 oftener worn. I confess I had thought of attempting to per- 
 suade Lucy to receive my own necklace as the memorial of 
 Grace, but a little reflection satisfied me of the hopelessness 
 of success, and nothing had been said on the subject. Of 
 course I acquiesced in the wish of the dear girl to possess 
 the pearls, but at the same time I determined to make the 
 additional purchase, ritore thoroughly to carry out the wishes 
 of my sister. 
 
iy6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 On the whole, the letter of Lucy gave me a great and sooth- 
 ing pleasure. I came to a resolution to answer it, and to 
 send that answer back by the pilot. I had no owner to feel 
 any solicitude in the movements of the ship; had no longer 
 a sister to care for myself, and to whom else could my last 
 words on quitting the land be so appropriately addressed 
 as to this constant and true-hearted friend? That much, at 
 least, I could presume to call Lucy, and even to that I clung 
 as the shipwrecked mariner clings to the last plank that floats. 
 
 The fourth letter, to my astonishment, bore the signature 
 of John Wallingford, and the date of Albany. He had got 
 this far on his way home, and written me a line to let me 
 know the fact. I copy his epistle in full, viz. : — 
 
 " Dear Miles : 
 
 " Here I am, and sorry am I to see, by the papers, f^frg 
 you are still. Recollect, my dear boy, that sugars will melt. 
 It is time you were off ; this is said for your own sake, and 
 not for mine, as you well know I am amply secured. Still, 
 the markets may fall, and he who is first in them can wait 
 for a rise, while he who is last must take what offers. 
 
 "Above all, Miles, do not take it into your head to alter 
 your will. Things are now arranged between us precisely 
 as they should be, and I hate changes. I am your heir, and 
 you are mine. Your counsel, Richard Harrison, Esquire, is 
 a man of great respectability, and a perfectly safe repository 
 of such a secret. I leave many of my papers in his hands, 
 and he has now been my counsel ever since I had need of 
 one, and treads so hard on Hamilton's heels that the last 
 sometimes feels his toes. This is as counsel, however, and 
 not as an advocate. 
 
 "Adieu, my dear boy: we are both Wallingfords, and the 
 nearest of kin to each other, 0/ the name. Clawbonny will 
 be safe with either of us, and either of us will be safe with 
 Clawbonny. Your affectionate cousin, 
 
 "John Wallingford." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. \*JJ 
 
 I confess that all this anxiety about Clawbonny began to 
 give me some uneasiness, and that I often wished I had 
 been less ambitious, or less hasty would be the better word, 
 and had been content to go to sea again in my simple char- 
 acter of shipmaster and ship-owner; leaving the merchant to 
 those who better understood the vocation. 
 
 I now went to the boat, and to the ship. Marble was all 
 ready for me, and in ten minutes the anchor was clear of the 
 bottom ; in ten more it was catted and fished, and the Dawn 
 was beating down the bay, on a young flood, with a light 
 breeze at southwest. The pilot being in charge, I had 
 nothing to do but go below and write my letters. I an- 
 swered everybody, even to the Secretary of State, who, at 
 that time, was no less a man than James Madison. To him, 
 however, I had nothing to say, but to acknowledge the re- 
 ceipt of the dispatches, and to promise to deliver them. My 
 letter to Mr. Hardinge was, I hope, such as a son might 
 have written to a revered parent. In it I begged he would 
 allow me to add to his library, by a purchase of theological 
 works of value, and which, in that day, could only be pro- 
 cured in Europe. This was to be his memorial of my sister. 
 I also begged of his friendship an occasional look at Claw- 
 bonny, though I did not venture to speak of the mortgage, 
 of which I now felt a sort of conviction he would not ap- 
 prove. 
 
 The letter to John Wallingford was as pithy as his own 
 to me. I told him my will was made, on a conviction of its 
 perfect propriety, and assured him it would not be altered 
 in a hurry; I told him the sugars were safe, and let him 
 understand that they were already on their way to Hamburg, 
 whence I hoped, ere long, to send him a good account of 
 their sale. 
 
 To Lucy, I was by no means so laconic. On the subject 
 of the pearls of Grace, I begged her to do just as she 
 pleased; adding a request, however, that she would select 
 such others of my sister's ornaments as might be most agree- 
 
 12 
 
178 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 able to herself. On this point I was a little earnest, since 
 the pearls were not worth the sum Grace had mentioned to 
 me; and I felt persuaded Lucy would not wish me to re- 
 main her debtor. There was a pair of bracelets, in par- 
 ticular, that Grace had highly prized, and which were very 
 pretty in themselves. My father had purchased the stones 
 — rubies of some beauty — in one of his voyages for my 
 mother, who had fancied them too showy for her to wear. 
 I had caused them to be set for Grace, and they would make 
 a very suitable ornament for Lucy; and were to be so much 
 the more prized, from the circumstance that Grace had once 
 worn them. It is true, they contained a little, though very 
 little of my hair; for on this Grace had insisted; but this 
 hair was rather a blemish, and might easily be removed. I 
 said as much in my letter. 
 
 On the subject of my sister^s death I found it impossible 
 to write much. The little I did say, however, was in full 
 accordance with her own feelings, I felt persuaded, and I 
 had no difficulty in believing she would sympathize in all I 
 did express, and in much that I had not words to express. 
 
 On the subject of the necklace, I did find language to 
 communicate a little, though it was done in the part of the 
 letter where a woman is said to give her real thoughts — the 
 postscript. In answer to what Lucy had said on the subject 
 of my own necklace, I wrote as follows, viz.: — "You speak 
 of my reserving the more valuable pearls for one who, at 
 some future day, may become my wife. I confess this was 
 my own intention, originally; and very pleasant was it to 
 me to fancy that one so dear would wear pearls that had 
 been brought up out of the sea by my own hands. But, 
 dearest Lucy, all these agreeable and delusive anticipations 
 have vanished. Depend on it, I shall never marry. I know 
 that declarations of this sort, in young men of three-and- 
 twenty, like those of maidens of nineteen, excite a smile 
 oftener than they produce belief; but I do not say this 
 without reflection, and, I may add, without feeling. She 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1/9 
 
 whom I once did hope to persuade to marry me, although 
 much my friend, is not accustomed to view me with the eyes 
 that lead to love. We were brought together under circum- 
 stances that have probably induced her to regard me more 
 as a brother than as a suitor, and while the golden moments 
 have passed away, her affections have become the property 
 of another. I resemble, in this particular at least, our re- 
 gretted Grace, and am not likely to change. My nature 
 may be sterner and my constitution stronger than those of 
 my poor sister proved to be, but I feel I cannot love twice ; 
 not as I have, and still do love, most certainly. Why 
 should I trouble you with all this, however .> I know you 
 will not accept of the necklace — though so ready to give me 
 your own last piece of gold when I went to sea; you have 
 ever been so fastidious as to refuse everything from us that 
 had the least appearance of a pecuniary obligation — and it is 
 useless to say more about it. I have no right to trouble you 
 with my griefs, especially at a moment when I know your af- 
 fectionate heart is suffering so deeply from our recent loss." 
 I will confess that, while writing this, I fancied I was 
 making a sort of half declaration to Lucy; one that might, 
 at least, give her some faint insight into the real state of 
 my heart; and I had a melancholy satisfaction in thinking 
 that the dear girl might, by these means, learn how much I 
 had prized and still did prize her. It was only a week later, 
 while pondering over what I had written, the idea occurred 
 to me that every syllable I had said would apply just as 
 well to Emily Merton as to Lucy Hardinge. Peculiar cir- 
 cumstances had made me intimately acquainted with our 
 young English friend, and these circumstances might well 
 have produced the very results I had mentioned. We all 
 believed Emily's affections to be engaged to Rupert, who 
 must have succeeded during my absence at sea. A modest 
 and self-distrusting nature, like that of Lucy's, would be 
 very apt to turn to any other than herself in quest of the 
 original of my picture. 
 
l8o MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 These letters occupied me for hours. That to Lucy, in 
 particular, was very long, and it was not written wholly 
 without care. When all were done and sealed, and en- 
 veloped to the address of the postmaster, I went on deck. 
 The pilot and Marble had not been idle while I had been 
 below, for I found the ship just weathering the southwest 
 Spit, a position that enabled me to make a fair wind of it 
 past the Hook and out to sea. 
 
 Certainly I was in no haste to quit home. I was leaving 
 my native land, Clawbonny, the grave of my' sister, and 
 Lucy, dearest Lucy, all behind me; and, at such an instant, 
 one feels the ties that are about to be separated. Still, 
 every seaman is anxious for an offing, and glad was I to see 
 the head of the Dawn pointing in the right direction, with 
 her yards nearly square, and a foretopmast studding-sail 
 set. The pilot was all activity, and Marble, cool, clear- 
 headed in his duty, and instinctively acquainted with every- 
 thing belonging to a vessel, was just the man to carry out 
 his views to his heart's content. 
 
 The ship went, rising and falling on the swells of the 
 ocean, that now began to make themselves felt, past the 
 light and the low point of the Hook, within a few minutes 
 after we had squared away, and, once more, the open ocean 
 lay before us. I could not avoid smiling at Neb, just as we 
 opened the broad waste of waters and got an unbroken 
 view of the rolling ocean to the southward. The fellow was 
 on the maintopsail yard, having just run out, and lashed the 
 heel of a topgallant studding-sail boom, in order to set the 
 sail. Before he lay in to the mast, he raised his Herculean 
 frame, and took a look to windward. His eyes opened, his 
 nostrils dilated, and I fancied he resembled a hound that 
 scented game in the gale, as he snuffed the sea air which 
 came fanning his glistening face, filled with the salts and 
 peculiar flavors of the ocean. I question if Neb thought at 
 all of Chloe for the next hour or two! 
 
 As soon as we got over the bar, I gave the pilot my pack- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. l8l 
 
 age and he got into his boat. It was not necessary to shorten 
 sail in order to do this, for the vessel's way did not exceed 
 five knots. 
 
 "Do you see the sail, hereaway in the southeastern 
 board ? " said the pilot, as he went over the side, pointing 
 towards a white speck on the ocean ; " take care of that fel- 
 low, and give him as wide a berth as possible, or he may 
 give you a look at Halifax or Bermuda." 
 
 " Halifax or Bermuda! I have nothing to do with either, 
 and shall not go there. Why should I fear that sail.? " 
 
 " On account of your cargo, and on account of your men. 
 That is his Majesty's ship Leander; she has been off here, 
 now, more than a week. The inward-bound craft say she is 
 acting under some new orders, and they name several ves- 
 sels that have been seen heading northeast after she had 
 boarded them. This new war is likely to lead to new trou- 
 bles on the coast, and it is well for all outward-bound ships 
 to be on the lookout." 
 
 ''^ His Majesty s ship" was a singular expression for an 
 American to use, towards any sovereign, twenty years after 
 the independence of the country was acknowledged. But it 
 was common then, nor has it ceased entirely even among the 
 newspapers of the present hour; so much harder is it to 
 substitute a new language than to produce a revolution. 
 Notwithstanding this proof of bad taste in the pilot, I did 
 not disregard his caution. There had been certain un- 
 pleasant rumors up in town for more than a month, that the 
 two great belligerents would be apt to push each other into 
 the old excesses, England and France at that day having 
 such a monopoly of the ocean as to render them somewhat 
 independent of most of the old-fashioned notions of the 
 rights of neutrals. As for America, she was cursed with 
 the cant of economy— an evil that is apt to produce as many 
 bad consequences as the opposite vice, extravagance. The 
 money paid as interest on the sums expended in the war of 
 1812 might have maintained a navy that would have caused 
 
1 82 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 both belligerents to respect her rights, and thereby saved 
 the principal entirely, to say nothing of all the other im- 
 mense losses dependent on an interrupted trade; but dema- 
 gogues were at work with their raven throats, and it is not 
 reasonable to expect that the masses can draw very just dis- 
 tinctions on the subject of remote interests, when present 
 expenditure is the question immediately before them. It is 
 true, I remember a modern French logician, who laid down 
 the dogma that the tendency of democracies being to ex- 
 cesses, if you give a people the power, they would tax 
 themselves to death ; but, however true this theory may be in 
 the main, it certainly is not true quoad the good citizens of 
 the great model republic. It was bad enough to be accursed 
 with a spurious economy; but this was not the heaviest 
 grievance that then weighed upon the national interests. 
 The demon of faction, party spirit, was actively at work in 
 the country; and it was almost as rare to find a citizen who 
 was influenced purely by patriotic and just views, as it 
 would be to find an honest man in the galleys. The nation, 
 as a rule, was either English or French. Some swore by 
 the First Consul, and some by Billy Pitt. As for the com- 
 mercial towns, taken in connection with the upper classes, 
 these were little more than so many reflections of English 
 feeling, exaggerated and rendered still more factitious by 
 distance. Those who did not swallow all that the English 
 tories chose to pour down their throats took the pillules 
 Napoleons without gagging. If there were exceptions, they 
 were very few, and principally among travelled men — pil- 
 grims who, by approaching the respective idols, had dis- 
 covered they were made by human hands! 
 
 Impressment at sea, and out of neutral vessels, was re- 
 vived, as a matter of course, with the renewal of the war, 
 and all American ships felt the expediency of avoiding 
 cruisers that might deprive them of their men. Strange as 
 it may seem, a large and leading class of Americans justi- 
 fied this claim of the English, as it was practised on board 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 83 
 
 their own country's vessels 1 What will not men defend 
 when blinded and excited by faction? As this practice was 
 to put the mariner on the defensive, and to assume that 
 every man was an Englishman who could not prove, out on 
 the ocean, a thousand miles from land perhaps, that he was 
 an American, it followed that English navy officers exer- 
 cised a jurisdiction over foreigners and under a foreign flag, 
 that would not be tolerated in the Lord High Chancellor 
 himself, in one of the streets of London ; that of throwing 
 the burden of proving himself innocent on the accused 
 party ! 
 
 There was an abundance of other principles that were 
 just as obvious, and just as unanswerable as this, which 
 were violated by the daily practices of impressment, but 
 they all produced no effect on the members of Congress and 
 public writers that sustained the right of the English, who 
 as blindly espoused one side of the main question as their 
 opponents espoused the other. Men acting under the guid- 
 ance of factions are not compos mentis. 
 
 I think I may say, without boasting unreasonably of my 
 own good sense, that I have kept myself altogether aloof 
 from the vortex of parties, from boyhood to the present 
 hour. My father had been a federalist, but a federalist a 
 good deal cooled off, from having seen foreign countries, 
 and no attempts had ever been made to make me believe 
 that black was white in the interest of either faction. I 
 knew that impressment from foreign vessels, out of the 
 waters of Great Britain at least, could be defended on no 
 other ground but that of power; and as for colonial produce, 
 and all the subtleties that were dependent on its transporta- 
 tion, I fancied that a neutral had a perfect right to purchase 
 of one belligerent and sell to another, provided he found it 
 his interest so to do, and violated no positive — not paper — 
 blockade, or did not convey articles that are called contra- 
 band of war. • 
 
 With these views, then, it is not surprising that I easily 
 
184 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 came into the pilot's opinion, and determined to give the 
 Leander a sufficient berth, as sailors express it. 
 
 The Leander was a fifty, on two decks, a very silly sort 
 of a craft, though she had manfully played her part at the 
 Nile, and on one or two other rather celebrated occasions, 
 and was a good vessel of the build. Still I felt certain the 
 Dawn could get away from her under tolerably favorable cir- 
 cumstances. The Leander afterward became notorious, on 
 the American coast, in consequence of a man killed in a 
 coaster by one of her shot, within twenty miles of the spot 
 where I now saw her, an event that had its share in awaken- 
 ing the feeling that produced the war of 18 12 — a war of 
 which the effects are just beginning to be made manifest in 
 the policy of the republic; a fact, by the way, that is little 
 understood at home or abroad. The Leander was a fast 
 ship of her kind, but the Dawn was a fast ship of any kind, 
 and I had great faith in her. It is true, the fifty had the 
 advantage of the wind, but she was a long way off, well to 
 the southward, and might have something in sight that 
 could not be seen even from our topgallant yards, whither 
 Neb was sent to take a look at the horizon. 
 
 Our plan was soon laid. The south side of Long Island 
 trending a little to the north of east, I ordered the ship to 
 be steered east-by-south, which, with the wind at south- 
 southwest, gave me an opportunity to carry all our stud- 
 ding-sails. The soundings were as regular as the ascent on 
 the roof of a shed, or on that of a graded lawn, and the land 
 in sight less than two leagues distant. In this manner we 
 ran down the coast, with about six knots' way on the ship, 
 as soon as we got from under the Jersey shore. 
 
 In less than an hour, or when we were about four leagues 
 from Sandy Hook light, the Englishman wore short round, 
 and made sail to cut us off. By this time he was just for- 
 ward of our weather-beam, a position that did not enable 
 him to carry studding-sails on both sides, for had he kept 
 off enough for this he would have fallen into our wake, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 85 
 
 while, by edging away to close with us, his after-sails be- 
 calmed the forward, and this at the moment when everything 
 of ours pulled like a team of well-broken cart-horses. Not- 
 withstanding all this we had a nervous afternoon's and 
 night's work of it. These old fifties are great travellers off 
 the wind; and more than once I fancied the Leander was 
 going to lay across my bows, as she did athwart those of the 
 Frenchman at the Nile. The Dawn, however, was not idle, 
 and as the wind stood all that day, throughout the night, 
 and was fresher, though more to the southward than it had 
 hitherto been, next morning, I had the satisfaction of seeing 
 Montauk a little on my lee-bow, at sunrise, while my pur- 
 suer was still out of gunshot on my weather-beam. 
 
 Marble and I now held a consultation on the subject of 
 the best mode of proceeding. I was half disposed to let the 
 Leander come up and send a boat on board us. What had 
 we to fear? We were bound to Hamburg with a cargo, one 
 half of which came from the English, while the other half 
 came from the French islands. But what of that? Marble, 
 however, would not listen to such a project. He affirmed 
 that he was a good pilot in all the sounds, and that it would 
 be better to risk everything rather than let that fifty close 
 with us. 
 
 " Keep the ship away for Montauk, sir," exclaimed the 
 mate; "keep her away for Montauk, and let that chap fol- 
 low us if he dare! There's a reef or two inside that I'll 
 engage to lead him on, should he choose to try the game, 
 and that will cure him of his taste for chasing a Yankee." 
 
 " Will you engage, Moses, to carry the ship over the 
 shoals, if I will do as you desire, and go inside? " 
 
 " I'll carry her into any port east of Block Island, Cap- 
 tain Wallingford. Though New York born, as it now turns 
 out, I'm * down -east ' edicated, and have got a * coasting pilot ' 
 of my own in my head." 
 
 This settled the matter, and I came to the resolution to 
 stand on. 
 
1 86 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The wind blows fair, the vessel feelt 
 
 The pressure of the rising breeze, 
 And, swiftest of a thousand keels. 
 
 She leaps to the careering seas. 
 
 Willis. 
 
 Half an hour later, things drew near a crisis. We had 
 been obliged to luff a little, in order to clear a reef that even 
 Marble admitted lay off Montauk, while the Leander had 
 kept quite as much away, with a view to close. This 
 brought the fifty so near us, directly on our weather-beam, 
 as to induce her commander to try the virtue of gunpowder. 
 Her bow-gun was fired, and its shot, only a twelve-pounder, 
 ricochetted until it fairly passed our fore-foot, distant a hun- 
 dred yards, making its last leap from the water precisely in 
 a line with the stem of the Dawn. This was unequivocal 
 evidence that the game could not last much longer, unless 
 the space between the two vessels should be sensibly 
 widened. Fortunately, we now opened Montauk fort, and 
 the option was offered us of doubling that point, and enter- 
 ing the Sound, or of standing on toward Block Island, and 
 putting the result on our heels. After a short consultation 
 with Marble, I decided on the first. 
 
 One of the material advantages possessed by a man-of-war 
 in a chase with a merchant-vessel is in the greater veloci- 
 ty with which her crew can make or take in sail. I knew 
 that the moment we began to touch our braces, tacks, and 
 sheets, the Leander would do the same, and that she would 
 effect her objects in half the time in which we could effect 
 ours. Nevertheless, the thing was to be done, and we set 
 about the preparations with care and assiduity. It was a 
 small matter to round in our weather-braces, until the 
 yards were nearly square, but the rigging out of her stud- 
 ding-sail booms and the setting of the sails was a job to 
 occupy the Dawn's people several minutes. Marble sug- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 8/ 
 
 gested that, by edging gradually away, we should bring the 
 Leander so far on our quarter as to cause the after-sails to 
 conceal what we were about forward, and that we might 
 steal a march on our pursuers by adopting this precaution. 
 I thought the suggestion a good one, and the necessary 
 orders were given to carry it out. 
 
 Any one might be certain that the Englishman's glasses 
 were levelled on us the whole time. Some address was used, 
 therefore, in managing to get our yards in without showing 
 the people at the braces. This was done by keeping off 
 first, and then by leading the ropes as far forward as possible, 
 and causing the men to haul on them, seated on deck. In 
 this manner we got our yards nearly square, or as much in as 
 our new course required, when we sent hands aloft, forward, 
 to get out the lee booms. But we reckoned without our host. 
 John Bull was not to be caught in that way. The hands 
 were hardly in the lee fore-rigging, before I saw the fifty 
 falling off to our course, her yards squared, and signs aboard 
 her that she had larboard studding-sails as well as ourselves. 
 The change of course had one good effect, however; it 
 brought our pursuer so far on our quarter that, standing at 
 the capstan, I saw him through the mizzen-rigging. This 
 took the Dawn completely from under the Leander's broad- 
 side, leaving us exposed to merely four or five of her for- 
 ard guns, should she see fit to use them. Whether the Eng- 
 lish were reluctant to resort to such very decided means of 
 annoyance, so completely within the American waters as we 
 were clearly getting to be, or whether they had so much 
 confidence in their speed as to feel no necessity for firing, I 
 never knew; but they did not have any further recourse to 
 shot. 
 
 As might have been foreseen, the fifty had her extra can- 
 vas spread some time before we could open ours, and I 
 fancied she showed the advantage thus obtained in her rate 
 of sailing. She certainly closed with us, though we closed 
 much faster with the land; still, there was imminent danger 
 
1 88 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 of her overhauling us before we could round the point, un- 
 less some decided step were promptly taken to avoid it. 
 
 " On the whole, Mr. Marble," I said, after my mates and 
 myself had taken a long and thoughtful look at the actual 
 state of things — " on the whole, Mr. Marble, it may be well 
 to take in our light sails, haul our wind, and let the man-of- 
 war come up with us. We are honest folk, and there is little 
 risk in his seeing all that we have to show him." 
 
 " Never think of it!" cried the mate. "After this long 
 pull, the fellow will be as savage as a bgar with a sore head. 
 He'd not leave a hand on board us that can take his trick 
 at the wheel ; and it's ten chances to one that he would send 
 the ship to Halifax, under some pretence or other, that the 
 sugars are not sweet enough, or that the coffee was grown in 
 a French island, and tastes French. No — no — Captain 
 Wallingford — here's the wind at sou'-sou'-west, and we're 
 heading nothe-east and by nothe-half-nothe already, with 
 that fellow abaft the mizzen-riggin'; as soon as we get a 
 p'int more to the nor'ard, we'll have him fairly in our wake." 
 
 "Ay, that will do very well as a theory, but what can we 
 make of it in practice ? We are coming up toward Montauk 
 at the rate of eight knots, and you have told me yourself 
 there is a reef off that point, directly toward which we must 
 this moment be standing. At this rate, fifteen minutes 
 might break us up into splinters." 
 
 I could see that Marble was troubled, by the manner in 
 which he rolled his tobacco about, and the riveted gaze he 
 kept on the water ahead. I had the utmost confidence in 
 his seaman-like prudence and discretion, while I knew he 
 was capable of suggesting anything a ship could possibly 
 perform, in an emergency that called for such an exercise of 
 decision. At that moment, he forgot our present relations, 
 and went back, as he often did when excited, to the days of 
 our greater equality and more trying scenes. 
 
 " Harkee, Miles," he said, "the reef is dead ahead of us, 
 but there is a passage between it and the point. I went 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 89 
 
 through that passage in the revvylution war, in chase of an 
 English West Injyman, and stood by the lead the whole 
 way, myself. Keep her away, Neb — keep her away, another 
 p*int: so — steady — very well, dyce (anglice thus) — keep her 
 so, and let John Bull follow us, if he dare." 
 
 " You should be very sure of your channel, Mr. Marble," 
 I said, gravely, "to take so much responsibility on yourself. 
 Remember my all is embarked in this ship, and the insur- 
 ance will not be worth a sixpence if we are lost running 
 through such a place as this in broad daylight. Reflect a 
 moment, I beg of you, if not certain of what you do." 
 
 "And what will the insurance be worth ag'in Halifax or 
 Bermuda? I'll put my life on the channel, and would care 
 more for your ship. Miles, than my own. If you love me, 
 stand on, and let us see if that lubberly make-believe two- 
 decker dare follow." 
 
 I was fain to comply, though I ran a risk that I find it 
 impossible now to justify to myself. I had my cousin John 
 Wallingford's property in charge, as well as my own, or 
 what was quite as bad, I placed Clawbonny in imminent 
 jeopardy. Still, my feelings were aroused, and to the ex- 
 citement of a race were added the serious but vague appre- 
 hensions all American seamen felt, in that day, of the great 
 belligerents. It is a singular proof of human justice that 
 the very consequences of these apprehensions are made mat- 
 ter of reproach against them. 
 
 It is not my intention to dwell further on the policy of 
 England and France, during their great contest for superior- 
 ity, than is necessary to the narrative of events connected 
 with my own adventures; but a word in behalf of American 
 seamen in passing may not be entirely out of place or 
 season. Men are seldom wronged without being calumni- 
 ated, and the body of men of which I was then one did not 
 escape that sort of reparation for all the grievances they en- 
 dured, which is dependent on demonstrating that the injured 
 deserved their sufferings. We have been accused of mis- 
 
IQO MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 leading English cruisers by false information, of being liars 
 to an unusual degree, and of manifesting a grasping love of 
 gold beyond the ordinary cupidity of man. Now I will ask 
 our accusers if it were at all extraordinary that they who 
 felt themselves daily aggrieved should resort to the means 
 within their power to avenge themselves? As for veracity, 
 no one who has reached my present time of life can be 
 ignorant that truth is the rarest thing in the world, nor are 
 those who have been the subjects of mystifications got up in 
 the payment for wrongs, supposed or real, the most impartial 
 judges of character or facts. As for the charge of an undue 
 love of money, it is unmerited. Money will do less in 
 America than in any other country of my acquaintance, and 
 infinitely less than in either France or England. 
 
 There is truth in this accusation, as applied either to a 
 particular class or to the body of the American people, only 
 in one respect. It is undeniable that, as a new nation, with 
 a civilization that is wanting in so many of its higher qual- 
 ities, while it is already so far advanced in those which 
 form the basis of national greatness, money does not meet 
 with the usual competition among us. The institutions, 
 too, by dispensing with hereditary consideration, do away 
 with a leading and prominent source of distinction that is 
 known to other systems, thus giving to riches an exclusive 
 importance that is rather apparent, however, than real. I 
 acknowledge that little or no consideration is yet given 
 among us to any of the more intellectual pursuits, the great 
 bulk of the nation regarding literary men, artists, even pro- 
 fessional men, as so many public servants, that are to be 
 used like any other servants, respecting them and their 
 labors only as they can contribute to the great stock of na- 
 tional wealth and renown. This is owing, in part, to the 
 youth of a country in which most of the material foundation 
 was so recently to be laid, and in part to the circumstance 
 that men, being under none of the factitious restraints of 
 other systems, coarse and vulgar-minded declaimers make 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I9I 
 
 themselves heard and felt to a degree that would not be tol- 
 erated elsewhere. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these defects, which no intelligent, 
 and least of all, no travelled American should or can justly 
 deny, I will maintain that gold is not one tittle more the 
 goal of the American than it is of the native of other active 
 and energetic communities. It is true, there is little besides 
 gold, just now, to aim at in this country, but the great num- 
 ber of young men who devote themselves to letters and the 
 arts, under such unfavorable circumstances, a number greatly 
 beyond the knowledge of foreign nations, proves it is cir- 
 cumstances, and not the grovelling propensities of the people 
 themselves, that give gold a so nearly undisputed ascend- 
 ency. The great numbers who devote themselves to politics 
 among us, certainly anything but a money-making pursuit, 
 prove that it is principally the want of other avenues to 
 distinction that renders gold apparently the sole aim of 
 American existence. To return from this touch of phil- 
 osophy to our ships. 
 
 The progress of the Dawn soon left us no choice in the 
 course to be steered. We could see by the charts that the 
 reef was already outside of us, and there was now no alterna- 
 tive between going ashore, or going through Marble's chan- 
 nel. We succeeded in the last, gaining materially on the 
 Leander by so doing, the Englishman hauling his wind when 
 he thought himself as near to the danger as was prudent, 
 and giving up the chase. I ran on to the northward an hour 
 longer, when, finding our pursuer was hull down to the 
 southward and westward, I took in our larboard studding- 
 sails, and brought the ship by the wind, passing out to sea 
 again, to the eastward of Block Island. 
 
 Great was the exultation on board the Dawn at this 
 escape, for escape it proved to be. Next morning, at sun- 
 rise, we saw a sail a long distance to the westward, which 
 we supposed to be the Ltfander, but she did not give chase. 
 Marble and the people were delighted at having given John 
 
192 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Bull the slip, while I learned caution from the occurrence, 
 determining not to let another vessel-of-warget near enough 
 to trouble me again, could I possibly prevent it. 
 
 From this time, for twenty days, the passage of the Dawn 
 had nothing unusual. We crossed the Banks in forty-six, 
 and made as straight a course for the western extremity of 
 England as the winds would allow. For several days I was 
 uncertain whether to go north-about or not, believing that I 
 should fall in with fewer cruisers by doubling Scotland than 
 by running up Channel. The latter was much the nearest 
 route, though so much depends on the winds, that I deter- 
 mined to let these last govern. Until we had made two- 
 thirds of our distance across the ocean, the winds had stood 
 very much at southwest, and though we had no heavy 
 weather our progress was good; but in 20° east from Green- 
 wich we got northeasters, and our best tack being the lar- 
 board, I stood for ten days to the southward and eastward. 
 This brought us into the track of everything going to or 
 coming from the Mediterranean, and, had we stood on far 
 enough, we should have made, the land somewhere in the 
 Bay of Biscay. I knew we should find the ocean dotted with 
 English cruisers, however, as soon as we got into European 
 waters, and we tacked to the northwest when about a hun- 
 dred leagues from the land. 
 
 The thirty-third day out proved one of great importance 
 to me. The wind had shifted to southwest, and it was blow- 
 ing fresh, with very thick weather — rain mingled with a fine 
 mist — that often prevented one's seeing a quarter of a mile 
 from the ship. The change occurred at midnight, and there 
 was every prospect of the wind's standing until it shoved us 
 into the chops of the Channel, from which we were then 
 distant about four hundred miles, according to my own cal- 
 culation. Marble had the watch at four o'clock, and he sent 
 for me that I might decide on the course to be steered and 
 the sail to be carried. The course was north-north-east; but, 
 as for the sail, I determined to stand on under our topsails 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 93 
 
 and fore-course, spanker and jib, until I could get a look by 
 daylight. When the sun was fairly up, there was no change, 
 and I gave orders to get along some of the larger studding- 
 sails, and to set the main-topgallant-sail, having my doubts 
 whether the spars would bear any more canvas under the 
 stiff breeze that was blowing. 
 
 " This is no great distance from the spot where we sur- 
 prised the Lady of Nantes, Captain Wallingford," Marble 
 observed to me, as I stood overlooking the process of bend- 
 ing a foretopmast studding-sail, in which he was engaged 
 with his own hands, "nor was the weather any thicker 
 then than it is now, though that was a haze, and this is a 
 mist." 
 
 " You are out of your longitude a few hundred miles, 
 Master Moses, but the comparison is well enough otherwise. 
 We have twice the wind and sea we had then, moreover, 
 and that was dry weather, while this is, to speak more gin- 
 gerly, a little moist." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir; there is just that difference. Them were 
 pleasant days. Captain Wallingford. I say nothing ag'in 
 these; but them *ere were pleasant times, as all in the Crisis 
 must allow." 
 
 " Perhaps we shall think the same of these some five or 
 six years hence." 
 
 " Well, that's natur', I must confess. It's amazing how 
 the last v'yage hangs in a man's memory, and how little we 
 think of the present ! I suppose the Lord made us all of 
 this disposition, for it's sartin we all manifest it. Come, 
 bear a hand. Neb, on that fore-yard, and let us see the length 
 of the stu'n-sail boom." 
 
 But Neb, contrary to his habits, stood upright on the 
 yard, holding on by the lift, and looking over the weather- 
 leach of the topsail, apparently at some object that either 
 was just then visible, or which had just before been visible. 
 
 "What is it?" cried Marble, struck with the black's atti- 
 tude and manner. "What d'ye see?" 
 »3 
 
194 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "I don't see him now, sir; nuttin' now; but dere was a 
 ship." 
 
 " Where-away? " I demanded. 
 
 "Off, here, Masser Mile — larboard bow, well forrard; 
 look sharp, and soon see him, yourself, sir." 
 
 Sharp enough we did look, all hands of us on deck, and, 
 in less than a minute, we caught a pretty good view of the 
 stranger from the forecastle. He might have been visible 
 to us half a minute, in one of those momentary openings in 
 the mist that were constantly occurring, and which enabled 
 the eye to command a range around the ship of half a mile, 
 losing it again, however, almost as soon as it was obtained. 
 Notwithstanding the distance of time, I can perfectly recall 
 the appearance of that vessel, seen as she was, for a moment 
 only, and seen too so unexpectedly. It was a frigate, as 
 frigates then were; or a ship of that medium size between a 
 heavy sloop-of-war and a two-decker which, perhaps, offers 
 the greatest proportions for activity and force. We plainly 
 saw her cream-colored, or, as it is more usual to term it, her 
 yellow streak, dotted with fourteen ports, including the 
 bridle, and gleaming brightly in contrast to the dark and 
 glistening hull, over which the mist and the spray of the 
 ocean cast a species of sombre lustre. The stranger was 
 under his three topsails, spanker, and jib, each of the former 
 sails being double-reefed. His courses were in the brails. 
 As the wind did not blow hard enough to bring a vessel of 
 any size to more than one reef, even on a bowline, this 
 short canvas proved that the frigate was on her cruising 
 ground, and was roaming about in quest of anything that 
 might offer. This was just the canvas to give a cruiser a 
 wicked look, since it denoted a lazy preparation, which 
 might, in an instant, be improved into mischief. As all 
 cruising vessels, when on their stations doing nothing, reef 
 at night, and the hour was still early, it was possible we 
 had made this ship before her captain, or first lieutenant, 
 had made his appearance on deck. There she was, at all 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. I95 
 
 events, dark, lustrous, fair in her proportions, her yards 
 looming square and symmetrical, her canvas damp, but stout 
 and new, the copper bright as a tea-kettle, resembling a new 
 cent, her hammock-cloths with the undress appearance this 
 part of a vessel-of-war usually offers at night, and her quar- 
 ter-deck and forecastle guns frowning through the lanyards 
 of her lower rigging, like so many slumbering bull-dogs 
 muzzled in their kennels. 
 
 The frigate was on an easy bowline, or, to speak more 
 correctly, was standing directly across our fore-foot, with 
 her yards nearly square. In a very few minutes, each keep- 
 ing her present course, the two ships would have passed 
 within pistol-shot of each other. I scarce knew the nature 
 of the sudden impulse which induced me to call out to the 
 man at the wheel to starboard his helm. It was probably 
 from instinctive apprehension that it were better for a neu- 
 tral to have as little to do with a belligerent as possible, 
 mingled with a presentiment that I might lose some of my 
 people by impressment. Call out I certainly did, and the 
 Dawn's bows came up to the wind, looking to the westward 
 or in a direction contrary to that in which the frigate was 
 running, as her yards were square, or nearly so. As soon 
 as the weather-leaches touched, the helm was righted, and 
 away we went with the wind abeam, with about as much 
 breeze as we wanted for the sail we carried. 
 
 The Dawn might have been half a mile to windward of 
 the frigate when this manoeuvre was put in execution. We 
 were altogether ignorant whether our own ship had been 
 seen, but the view we got of the stranger satisfied us that he 
 was an Englishman. Throughout the whole of the long wars 
 that succeeded the French Revolution, the part of the ocean 
 which lay off the chops of the Channel was vigilantly watched 
 by the British, and it was seldom, indeed, a vessel could go 
 over it without meeting one or more of their cruisers. 
 
 I was not without a hope*that the two ships would pass 
 each other without our being seen. The mist became very 
 
196 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 thick just as we hauled up, and had this change of course 
 taken place after we were shut in, the chances were greatly 
 in favor of its being effected. Once distant a mile from the 
 frigate, there was little danger of her getting a glimpse of 
 us, since, throughout all that morning, I was satisfied we 
 had not got a horizon with that much of diameter. 
 
 As a matter of course the preparations with the studding- 
 sails were suspended. Neb was ordered to lay aloft, as high 
 as the cross-trees, and to keep a vigilant look-out, while all 
 eyes on deck were watching as anxiously in the mist, as we 
 had formerly watched for the shadowy outline of la Dame 
 de Nantes. Marble's long experience told him best where 
 to look, and he caught the next view of the frigate. She 
 was directly under our lee, gliding easily along under the 
 same canvas; the reefs still in, the courses in the brails, 
 and the spanker rolled up, as it had been for the night. 
 
 " By George," cried the mate, " all them Johnny Bulls are 
 still asleep, and they haven't seen us! If we can give this 
 fellow the slip, as we did the old Leander, Captain Walling- 
 ford, the Dawn will become as famous as the Flying Dutch- 
 man! See, there he jogs on as if going to mill or to church, 
 and no more stir aboard him than there is in a Quaker 
 meetin' ! How my good old soul of a mother would enjoy 
 this!" 
 
 There the frigate went, sure enough, without the smallest 
 sign of any alarm having been given on board her. The 
 vessels had actually passed each other, and the mist was 
 thickening again. Presently the veil was drawn, and the 
 form of that beautiful ship was entirely hid from sight. 
 Marble rubbed his hands with delight, and all our people 
 began to joke at the expense of the Englishman. "If a 
 merchantman could see a man-of-war," it was justly enough 
 said, " a man-of-war ought certainly to see a merchantman." 
 Her look-outs must have all been asleep, or it would not 
 have been possible for us to pass so near, under the canvas 
 we carried, and escape undiscovered. Most of the Dawn's 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. IQ/ 
 
 crew were native Americans, though there were four or five 
 Europeans among them. Of these last, one was certainly 
 an Englishman, and, as I suspected, a deserter from a public 
 ship; and the other, beyond all controversy, was a plant of 
 the Emerald Isle. These two men were particularly de- 
 lighted, though well provided with those veracious docu- 
 ments called protections — which, like beggars' certificates, 
 never told anything but truth, though, like beggars' certifi- 
 cates, they not unfrequently fitted one man as well as an- 
 other. It was the well-established laxity in the character of 
 this testimony that gave the English officers something like 
 a plausible pretext for disregarding all evidence in the 
 premises. Their mistake was in supposing they had a right 
 to make a man prove anything on board a foreign ship; 
 while that of America was in permitting her citizens to be 
 arraigned before foreign judges under any conceivable cir- 
 cumstances. If England wanted her own men, let her keep 
 them within her own jurisdiction, not attempt to follow 
 them into the jurisdiction of neutral states. 
 
 Well, the ship had passed; and I began myself to fancy 
 that we were quit of a troublesome neighbor, when Neb 
 came down the rigging, in obedience to an order from the 
 mate. 
 
 "Relieve the wheel. Master Clawbonny," said Marble, 
 who often gave the negro his patronymic; "we may want 
 some of your touches before we reach the foot of the dance. 
 Which way was John Bull travelling when you last saw 
 him?" 
 
 " He goin' eastward, sir." Neb was never half as much 
 "nigger" at sea as when he was on shore — there being 
 something in his manly calling that raised him nearer to 
 the dignity of white men. "But, sir, he was gettin' his 
 people ready to make sail." 
 
 " How do you know that? No such thing, sir; all hands 
 were asleep, taking their second naps." 
 
 " Well, you see, Misser Marble ; den you know^ sir." 
 
igS MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Neb grinned as he said this; and I felt persuaded he had 
 seen something that he understood, but which very possibly 
 he could not explain ; though it clearly indicated that John 
 Bull was not asleep. We were not left long in doubt on 
 this head. The mist opened again, and, distant from us 
 about three-quarters of a mile, bearing on our lee-quarter, 
 we got another look at the frigate, and a look that satisfied 
 everybody what she was about. The Englishman was in 
 stays, in the very act of hauling his head-yards, a certain 
 sign he was a quick and sure-working fellow, since this ma- 
 noeuvre had been performed against a smart sea, and under 
 double-reefed topsails. He must have made us, just as we 
 lost sight of him, and was about to shake out his reefs. 
 
 On this occasion, the frigate may have been visible from 
 our decks three minutes. I watched all her movements, as 
 the cat watches the mouse. In the first place her reefs were 
 shaken out, as the ship's bows fell off far enough to get the 
 sea on the right side of them, and her topsails appeared to 
 me to be mast-headed by instinct, or as the bird extends its 
 wings. The fore and main-topgallant-sails were fluttering 
 in the breeze at this very moment — it blew rather too fresh 
 for the mizzen — and then their bosoms were distended, and 
 their bowlines hauled. How the fore and main-tacks got 
 aboard I could not tell, though it was done while my eyes 
 were on the upper sails. I caught a glimpse of the fore- 
 sheet, however, as the clew was first flapping violently, and 
 then was brought under the restraint of its own proper, 
 powerful purchase. The spanker had been hauled out previ- 
 ously, to help the ship in tacking. 
 
 There was no mistaking all this. We were seen and 
 chased; everything on board the frigate being instantly 
 and accurately trimmed, " full and by." She looked up into 
 our wake, and I knew must soon overtake a heavily-laden 
 ship like the Dawn, in the style in which she was worked 
 and handled. Under the circumstances, therefore, I mo- 
 tioned Marble to follow me aft, where we consulted together 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 1 99 
 
 touching our future proceedings. I confess I was disposed 
 to shorten sail, and let the cruiser come alongside; but 
 Marble, as usual, was for holding on. 
 
 "We are bound to Hamburg,'^ said the mate, " which lies, 
 hereaway, on our lee-beam, and no man has a right to com- 
 plain of our steering our course. The mist has shut the 
 frigate in again, and, it being very certain he will overhaul 
 us on a bowline, I advise you. Miles, to lay the yards per- 
 fectly square, edge away two points more, and set the 
 weather stun'-sails. If we do not open John very soon 
 again, we may be off three or four miles to leeward before 
 he learns where we are, and then, you know, a *starn chase' 
 is always a *long chase.' " 
 
 This was good advice, and I determined to follow it. It 
 blew rather fresh at the instant, and the Dawn began to 
 plunge through the seas at a famous rate as soon as she felt 
 the drag of the studding-sails. We were now running on a 
 course that made an obtuse angle with that of the frigate, 
 and there was the possibility of so far increasing our dis- 
 tance as to get beyond the range of the openings of the mist, 
 ere our expedient was discovered. So long did the density 
 of the atmosphere continue, indeed, that my hopes were be- 
 ginning to be strong, just as one of our people called out 
 "The frigate!" This time she was seen directly astern of 
 us, and nearly two miles distant! Such had been our gain 
 that ten minutes longer would have carried us clear. As we 
 now saw her, I felt certain she would soon see us, eyes 
 being on the look-out on board her, beyond a question. 
 Nevertheless, the cruiser was still on a bowline, standing 
 on the course on which we had been last seen. 
 
 This lasted but a moment, however. Presently the Eng- 
 lishman's bow fell off, and by the time he was dead before 
 the wind we could see his studding-sails flapping in the 
 air, as they were in the act of being distended, by means of 
 halyards, tacks, and sheets all going at once. The mist shut 
 in the ship again before all this could be executed. What 
 
200 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 was to be done next? Marble said, as we were not on our 
 precise course, it might serve a good turn to bring the wind 
 on our starboard quarter, set all the studding-sails'we could 
 carry on the same side, and run off east-north-east: I in- 
 clined to this opinion, and the necessary changes were made 
 forthwith. The wind and mist increased, and away we went, 
 on a diverging line from the course of the Englishman, at 
 the rate of quite ten knots in the hour. This lasted fully 
 forty minutes, and all hands of us fancied we had at last 
 given the cruiser the slip. Jokes and chuckling flew about 
 among the men, as usual, and everybody began to feel as 
 happy as success could make us, when the dark veil lifted 
 at the southwest; the sun was seen struggling through the 
 clouds, the vapor dispersed, and gradually the whole curtain 
 which had concealed the ocean throughout that morning 
 arose, extending the view around the ship, little by little, 
 until nothing limited it but the natural horizon. 
 
 The anxiety with which we watched this slow rising of 
 the curtain need scarcely be described. Every eye was 
 turned eagerly in the direction in which its owner expected 
 to find the frigate, and great was our satisfaction as mile 
 after mile opened in the circle around us without bringing 
 her beautiful proportions within its range. But this could 
 not last forever, there not being sufficient time to carry so 
 large a vessel over the curvature of the ocean's surface. As 
 usual. Marble saw her first. She had fairly passed to lee- 
 ward of us, and was quite two leagues distant, driving ahead 
 with the speed of a racehorse. With a clear horizon, an 
 open ocean, a stiff breeze, and hours of daylight, it was 
 hopeless to attempt escape from so fast a vessel as the 
 stranger, and I now determined to put the Dawn on her true 
 course, and trust altogether to the goodness of my cause ; 
 heels being out of the question. The reader who will do 
 me the favor to peruse the succeeding chapter will learn the 
 result of this resolution. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? 
 The king hath sent hira, sure : I must dissemble. 
 
 King Henry VI. 
 
 At first, the frigate took single reefs in her topsails, top- 
 gallant-sails over them, and hauled up on taut bowlines. 
 But seeing no signs of our studding-sails coming down, she 
 shook out her reefs, squared her yards, set topmast studding- 
 sails, and kept off to a course that would be certain to inter- 
 cept us. She was up on our line of sailing some little time 
 before we got down to her, and she kept standing off and 
 on, hauling up her courses, and furling her topgallant-sails, 
 and hauling down all of her light sails, the jib excepted. 
 As for the Dawn, she kept steadily on, carrying everything 
 she could bear. We had topmast and lower studding-sails, 
 and not a tack or sheet had been touched when we got within 
 a quarter of a mile of the frigate. The Englishman now 
 showed his colors, when we let him see the Stars and Stripes. 
 Still no sail was touched on board us. As if surprised at 
 our obstinacy, John Bull let fly a chase-gun, taking good 
 care not to send the shot very near us. I thought it time, 
 now, to shorten sail and to pretend to see him. We began 
 to haul down our studding-sails merchant-fashion, and 
 were fairly alongside of the frigate before even this pre- 
 liminary step to heaving-to was effected. As we ap- 
 proached, the frigate bore up, and ran off in company with 
 us, keeping a hundred fathoms distance from us, and watch- 
 ing us closely. At this instant, I ordered the topgallant- 
 sails settled on the caps, as a sign we intended to let him 
 board us. 
 
 At length, having reduced the sail to the three topsails, 
 reefed, I hove-to the Dawn, and waited for a visit from the 
 Englishman's boat. As*soon as the frigate saw us fairly 
 motionless, she shot up on our weather-quarter, half a 
 
202 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 cable's length distant, swung her long, saucy-looking yards, 
 and lay-to herself. At the same instant her lee-quarter boat 
 dropped into the water, with the crew in it, a boy of a mid- 
 shipman scrambled down the ship's side and entered it also, 
 a lieutenant followed, when away the cockle of a thing 
 swept on the crest of a sea, and was soon pulling round 
 under our stern. I stood on the lee-quarter, examining my 
 visitors, as they struggled against the swell, in order to get 
 a boat-hook into our main-chains. The men were like any 
 other man-of-war's-men, neat, sturdy, and submissive in air. 
 The reefer was a well-dressed boy, evidently a gentleman's 
 son; but the lieutenant was one of those old weather-beaten 
 sea-dogs who are seldom employed in boats unless something 
 more than common is to be done. He was a man of forty, 
 hard-featured, pock-marked, red-faced, and scowling. I after- 
 ward ascertained he was the son of some underling about 
 the Portsmouth dock-yard, who had worked his way up to a 
 lieutenancy, and owed his advancement principally to his 
 readiness in impressing seamen. His name was Sennit. 
 
 We threw Mr. Sennit a rope, as a matter of course, and 
 Marble met him at the gangway with the usual civilities. 
 I was amused with the meeting between these men, who had 
 strictly that analogy to each other which is well described 
 as " diamond cut diamond." Each was dogmatical, positive, 
 and full of nautical conceit, in his own fashion ; and each 
 hated the other's country as heartily as man could hate, 
 while both despised Frenchmen. But Sennit knew a mate 
 from a master at a glance ; and, without noticing Marble's 
 sea -bow, a slight for which Marble did not soon forgive 
 him, he walked directly aft to me, not well pleased, as I 
 thought, that a shipmaster had neglected to be at the gang- 
 way to meet a sea lieutenant. 
 
 "Your servant, sir," commenced Mr. Sennit, condescend- 
 ing to notice my bow; "your servant, sir; I suppose we owe 
 the pleasure of your company, just now, to the circumstance 
 of the weather's clearing." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 203 
 
 This sounded hostile from the go-off; and I was deter- 
 mined to give as good as I received. 
 
 " Quite likely, sir," was my answer, uttered as coolly as I 
 could speak — " I do not think you got much the advantage, 
 as long as there was thick weather." 
 
 "Ay, you're a famous fellow at hide and go seek, and I 
 do not doubt would make a long chase in a dark night. 
 But his Majesty's ship Speedy is not to be dodged by a 
 Yankee." 
 
 " So it would seem, sir, by your present success." 
 
 " Men seldom run away without there is a cause for it. 
 It's my business to find out the reason why you have at- 
 tempted it ; so, sir, I will thank you for the name of your 
 ship, to begin with." 
 
 "The Dawn, of New York." 
 
 " Ay, full-blooded Yankee — I knew you were New Eng- 
 land, by your tricks." 
 
 "New York is not in New England; nor do we call a 
 New York ship a Yankee," put in Marble. 
 
 "Ay, ay — if one were to believe all you mates from the 
 other side, say, he would soon fancy that King George held 
 his throne by virtue of a commission from President Wash- 
 ington." 
 
 " President Washington is dead. Heaven bless him !" re- 
 torted Marble, " and if one were to believe half of what you 
 English say, he would soon fancy that President Jefferson 
 held his office as one of King George's waiting-men." 
 
 I made a sign for Marble to be silent, and intimated to 
 the lieutenant I was ready to answer any further inquiries 
 he wished to make. Sennit did not proceed, however, with- 
 out giving a significant look at the mate, which, to me, 
 seemed to say, " I have pressed a mate in my time." 
 
 " Well, sir, the Dawn, of New York," he continued, noting 
 the name in his pocket-book. " How are you called your- 
 self?" 
 
 "The Dawn, of New York, Miles Wallingford, master." 
 
204 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Miles Wallingford, master. Where from, whither bound, 
 and with what laden?" 
 
 "From New York; bound to Hamburg; cargo sugars, 
 coffee, and cochineal." 
 
 " A very valuable cargo, sir," observed Mr. Sennit, a lit- 
 tle dryly. **' I wish for your sake it had been going to any 
 other part of the world, as this last war has sent the French 
 into that part of Germany, and Hamburg is suspected of 
 being rather too much under Boney's influence." 
 
 " And were we bound to Bordeaux, sir, what power have 
 you to stop a neutral at this distance at sea? " 
 
 " If you put it on power, Mr. Wallingford, you depend on 
 a crutch that will betray you. We have power enough to eat 
 you, should that be necessary. I suppose you mean right" 
 
 " I shall not dispute with you, sir, about words." 
 
 " Well, to prove to you that I am as amicably disposed as 
 yourself, I will say no more on the subject. With your per- 
 mission, I will now examine your papers; and to show you 
 that I feel myself among friends, I will first send my own 
 boat back to the Speedy." 
 
 I was infinitely disgusted with this man's manner. It 
 had the vulgar sort of witticism about even his air, that he 
 so much affected in his speech — the whole being deformed 
 by a species of sly malignancy, that rendered him as offen- 
 sive as he seemed to me to be dangerous. I could not refuse 
 to let a belligerent look at my papers, however, and went 
 below to get them, while Sennit gave some private orders to 
 his reefer, and sent him away to his frigate. 
 
 While on this subject, the reader must excuse an old 
 man's propensity to gossip, if I say a word on the general 
 question of the right of search. As for the pretence that 
 was set up by some of the advocates of impressment out of 
 neutral ships, which laid down the position that the bellig- 
 erent being on board in the exercise of an undoubted right 
 to inquire into the character of the ship and cargo, he took 
 with him the right to lay hands on all the subjects of his 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 205 
 
 own sovereign he might happen to find there, it is not 
 worthy of a serious reply. Because a man has a right to 
 take the step preliminary to the discharge of an admitted 
 power, as an incident of that power, it does not follow that 
 he can make the incident a principle, and convert it into a 
 justification of acts unlawful in themselves. On this head, 
 therefore, I shall say nothing, holding it to be beyond dis- 
 pute among those who are competent to speak on the sub- 
 ject at all. But the abuse of that admitted power to board 
 and ascertain the character of a ship has created so lively 
 a feeling in us Americans as to induce us to forego some of 
 the wholesome principles that are necessary to the well-be- 
 ing of all civilized nations. It is thus, in my judgment, 
 that we have quite recently and erroneously laid down the 
 doctrine that foreign vessel s-of-war shall not board Ameri- 
 can ships on the coast of Africa, in a time of peace, in order 
 to ascertain their character. 
 
 On this subject I intend to speak plainly. In the first 
 place, I lay no claim to that spurious patriotism which says, 
 "Our country, right or wrong." This may do for the rabble, 
 but it will not do for God, to whom our first and highest 
 obligations are due. Neither country nor man can justify 
 that which is wrong, and I conceive it to be wrong, in a 
 political if not in a moral sense, to deny a vessel-of-war the 
 privilege which England here claims. I can see but one 
 plausible argument against it, and that is founded on the 
 abuses which may arise from the practice. But it will not 
 do to anticipate abuses in this instance more than in any 
 other. Every right, whether national or international, may 
 be abused in its exercise, and the argument, if good for any 
 thing, is as good against every other right of international 
 law as it is against this. Abuse, after it has occurred, might 
 be a justifiable reason for suspending the exercise of an ad- 
 mitted right, until som^ remedies were applied to prevent 
 their recurrence, but it can never be urged as a proper argu- 
 ment against the right itself. If abuses occur, we can get 
 
206 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 them remedied by proper representations, and if these last 
 fail, we have the usual appeal of nations. As well might it 
 be said, the law of the land shall not be administered, be- 
 cause the sheriff's officers are guilty of abuses, as to say the 
 law of nations shall cease because we apprehend that cer- 
 tain commercial rivalries may induce others to transcend 
 them. When the wrong is done it will be time enough to 
 seek the remedy. 
 
 That it is the right of a vessel-of-war to ascertain the 
 character of a ship at sea is dependent on her right to ar- 
 rest a pirate, for instance. In what manner can this be 
 done, if a pirate can obtain impunity by simply hoisting the 
 flag of some other country, which the cruiser is obliged to 
 respect? All that the latter asks is the power to ascertain 
 if that flag is not an imposition ; and this much every regu- 
 larly-commissioned public ship should be permitted to do, 
 in the interests of civilization, and in maintenance of the 
 police of the seas. 
 
 The argument on the other side goes the length of saying 
 that a public cruiser is in the situation of a sheriff's officer 
 on shore, who is compelled to arrest his prisoner on his own 
 responsibility. In the first place, it may be questioned if 
 the dogma of the common law, which asserts the privilege 
 of the citizen to conceal his name, is worthy of a truly en- 
 lightened political freedom. It must not be forgotten that 
 liberty first took the aspect of franchises, in which men 
 sought protection from the abuses of power in any manner 
 they could, and often without regarding the justness of the 
 general principles with which they were connected ; confu- 
 sion in these principles arising as a consequence. But, ad- 
 mitting the dogma of the common law to be as inherently 
 wise as it is confessedly a practice, there is no parallel in 
 the necessity of the case of an arrest on shore and of an 
 arrest at sea. In the former instance, the officer may apply 
 to witnesses; he has the man before him, and compares him 
 with the description of the criminal; and, should he make 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 20/ 
 
 an erroneous arrest, under misleading circumstances, his 
 punishment would be merely nominal — in many cases, noth- 
 ing. But the common law, while it gives the subject this 
 protection, does not deny the right of the officer to arrest. 
 It only punishes the abuse of this power, and that is precisely 
 what nations ought to do in a case of the abuse of the right 
 to examine a merchantman. 
 
 The vessel -of -war cannot apply to witnesses, and cannot 
 judge of national character by mere external appearances, 
 since an American-built ship can be sailed by Portuguese. 
 The actual necessities of the case are in favor of the present 
 English claim, as well as of that great governing princi- 
 ple which says that no great or principal right can exist, 
 in international law, without carrying with it all the sub- 
 ordinate privileges which are necessary to its discreet ex- 
 ercise. 
 
 Thus much I could not refrain from saying, not that I 
 think John Bull is very often right in his controversies with 
 ourselves, but because I think, in this case, he is; and be- 
 cause I believe it far safer, in the long run, for a nation or 
 an individual to have justice on his side than always to 
 carry his point. 
 
 I was soon on deck, carrying my writing-desk under my 
 arm, Mr. Sennit preferring to make his examination in the 
 open air to making it below. He read the clearance and 
 manifest with great attention. Afterward he asked for the 
 shipping articles. I could see that he examined the names 
 of the crew with eagerness, for the man was in his element 
 when adding a new hand to his frigate's crew. 
 
 " Let me see this Nebuchadnezzar Clawbonny, Mr. Wal- 
 lingford," he said, chuckling. "The name has an alias in 
 its very absurdity, and I doubt not I shall see a countryman 
 — perhaps a townsman." 
 
 " By turning your head, sir, you can easily see the man. 
 He is at the wheel." 
 
 "A black! — umph — yes; those fellows do sometimes sail 
 
208 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 under droll titles. I do not think the lad was born at Gos- 
 port." 
 
 " He was born in my father's house, sir, and is my slave." 
 
 "Slave! A pretty word in the mouth of a free and inde- 
 pendent son of liberty, Mr. Wallingford. It is lucky you 
 are not bound to that land of despotism, old England, or 
 you might see the fetters fall from about the chap's limbs." 
 
 I was nettled, for I felt there was some justice in this 
 sarcasm, and this, too, at the very moment I felt it was only 
 half merited; and not at all, perhaps, from an Englishman. 
 But Sennit knew as much of the history of my country as he 
 did of his own, having obtained all he had learned of either 
 out of newspapers. Nevertheless, I succeeded in keeping 
 silent. 
 
 "Nathan Hitchcock; this chap has a suspiciously Yan- 
 kee name; will you let me see him^ sir," observed the lieu- 
 tenant. 
 
 " The chap's name, then, does him no more than justice, 
 for I believe he is strictly what we call a Yankee." 
 
 Nathan came aft at the call of the second mate, and Sen- 
 nit no sooner saw him than he told him to go forward again. 
 It was easy to see that the man was perfectly able to distin- 
 guish, by means of the eye alone, between the people of the 
 two countries, though the eye would sometimes deceive even 
 the most practised judges. As the Speedy was not much in 
 want of men, he was disposed not to lay his hands on any 
 but his own countrymen. 
 
 " I shall have to ask you, sir, to muster all your people 
 in the gangway," said Sennit, rising, as he passed me the 
 ship's papers. " I am only a supernumerary of the Speedy, 
 and I expect we shall soon have the pleasure of seeing her 
 first on board, the Honorable Mr. Powlett. We are a nob 
 ship, having Lord Harry Dermond for our captain, and lots 
 of younger sons in the cockpit." 
 
 I cared little who commanded or officered the Speedy, but 
 I felt all the degradation of submitting to have my crew 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 209 
 
 mustered by a foreign officer, and this, too, with the avowed 
 object of carrying away such portions of them as he might 
 see fit to decide were British subjects. In my judgment it 
 would have been much more creditable and much wiser for 
 the young Hercules to have made an effort to use his club, 
 in resisting such an offensive and unjustifiable assumption 
 of power, than to be setting up doubtful claims to establish 
 principles of public law that will render the exercise of 
 some of the most useful of all international rights perfectly 
 nugatory. I felt a disposition to refuse compliance with 
 Sennit's request, and did the result only affect myself I 
 think I should have done so; but, conscious that my men 
 would be the sufferers, I thought it more prudent to comply. 
 Accordingly, all the Dawn's people were ordered to muster 
 near the quarter-deck. 
 
 While I endeavor to do justice to principles, I wish to do 
 no injustice to Sennit. To own the truth, this man picked 
 out the Englishman and Irishman as soon as each had an- 
 swered his iirst questions. They were ordered to get their 
 things ready to go on board the Speedy, and I was coolly 
 directed to pay them any wages that might be due. Marble 
 was standing near when this command was given ; and see- 
 ing disgust, most likely, in my countenance, he took on 
 himself the office of replying. 
 
 "You think accounts should be balanced, then, before 
 these men quit the ship? " he asked, significantly. 
 
 "I do, sir; and it's my duty to see it done. I will thank 
 you to attend to it at once," returned the lieutenant. 
 
 "Well, sir, that being the case, we shall be receivers, in- 
 stead of payers. By looking at the shipping articles, you 
 will see that each of these men receive fifty dollars, or two 
 months' advance" (seamen's wages were as high, frequently, 
 in that day, as twenty or thirty dollars), "and quite half of 
 the * dead-horse ' remains to be worked out. We will, there- 
 fore, thank his Majesty to pay us the odd twenty-five dollars 
 for each of the men." 
 14 
 
2IO MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " What countryman are you 1 " demanded the lieutenant, 
 with a menacing look. "Cornish, by your impudence: have 
 a care, sir; I have carried off mates, before now, in my day." 
 
 " I came from the land of tombstones, which is an advan- 
 tage ; as I know the road we all must travel, sooner or later. 
 My name is Marble, at your service ; and there's a hard na- 
 tur' under it, as you'll find on trial." 
 
 Just at this moment, the frigate's boat came round her 
 stern, carrying the Honorable Mr. Powlett, or the gentleman 
 whom Sennit had announced as her first lieutenant. I 
 thought the rising anger of the last, was a little subdued by 
 the appearance of his senior officer; social position and 
 private rank making even a greater difference between the 
 two than mere date of commission. Sennit suppressed his 
 wrath, therefore ; though I make no doubt the resentment he 
 felt at the contumelious manner of my mate had no little 
 influence on what subsequently occurred. As things were, 
 he waited, before he proceeded any further, for the Speedy's 
 boat to come alongside. 
 
 Mr. Powlett turned out to be a very different sort of per- 
 son from his brother lieutenant. There was no mistaking 
 him for anything but a gentleman, or for a sailor. Beyond 
 a question, he owed his rank in his ship to family influence, 
 and he was one of those scions of aristocracy (by no means 
 the rule, however, among the high-born of England) who 
 never were fit for anything but carpet-knights, though 
 trained to the seas. As I afterward learned, his father held 
 high ministerial rank; a circumstance that accounted for 
 his being the first lieutenant of a six-and-thirty at twenty, 
 with a supernumerary lieutenant under him who had been a 
 sailor some years before he was born. But the captain of 
 the Speedy, himself. Lord Harry Dermond, was only four- 
 and-twenty; though he had commanded his ship two years, 
 and fought one very creditable action in her. 
 
 After making my best bow to Mr. Powlett, and receiving 
 a very gentleman -like salutation in return, Sennit led his 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 211 
 
 brother officer aside, and they had a private conference of 
 some little length together. 
 
 " I shall not meddle with the crew, Sennit," I overheard 
 Powlett say, in a sort of complaining tone, as he walked 
 away from his companion. " Really, I cannot become the 
 master of a press-gang, though the Speedy had to be worked 
 by her officers. You are used to this business, and I leave 
 it all to you." 
 
 I understood this to be a carte blanche to Sennit to carry 
 off as many of my people as he saw fit; there being nothing 
 novel or surprising in men's tolerating in others acts they 
 would disdain to perform in person. As soon as he left his 
 junior in rank, the youthful first lieutenant approached me. 
 I call him youthful, for he appeared even younger than he 
 was, though I myself had commanded a ship when only of 
 his own age. It was easy to see that this young man felt he 
 was employed on an affair of some importance. 
 
 " It is reported to us, on board the Speedy, sir," the Hon. 
 Mr. Powlett commenced, " that you are bound to Hamburg." 
 
 " To Hamburg, sir, as my papers will show." 
 
 "Our government regards all trade with that part of the 
 Continent with great distrust, particularly since the late 
 movements of the French. I really wish, sir, you had not 
 been bound to Hamburg." 
 
 "I believe Hamburg is still a neutral port,, sir; and, if it 
 were not, I do not see why an American should not enter it, 
 until actually blockaded." 
 
 "Ah! these are some of your very peculiar American 
 ideas on such subjects! I cannot agree with you, however, 
 it being my duty to obey my orders. Lord Harry has de- 
 sired us to be very rigorous in our examination, and I trust 
 you will understand we must comply, however unpleasant it 
 may be, sir. I understand, now, sugar and coffee are exceed- 
 ingly suspicious!" • 
 
 "They are very innocent things rightly used, as I hope 
 mine will be." 
 
212 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Have you any particular interest in the cargo, Captain 
 Wallingford?" 
 
 " Only that of owner, sir. Both ship and cargo are my 
 own private property." 
 
 " And you seem to be English, or American — for, I con- 
 fess myself unable to tell the difference between the people 
 of the two countries, though I dare say there is a very great 
 difference." 
 
 " I am an American by birth, as have been my ancestors 
 for generations." 
 
 " I declare that is remarkable! Well, I can see no differ- 
 ence. But, li you are American, I do not see why the sugar 
 and coffee are not American, too. Lord Harry, however, 
 desired us to be very particular about these things, for some 
 reason. or other. Do you happen to know, now, where this 
 sugar grew?" 
 
 " The canes of which it was made grew, I believe, in St. 
 Domingo." 
 
 "St. Domingo! Is not that a French island?" 
 
 "Certainly, in part, sir; though the Spaniards and the 
 negroes dispute the possession with the French." 
 
 "I declare I must send Lord Harry word of this! I am 
 exceedingly sorry. Captain Wallingford, to detain your ship, 
 but my duty requires me to send a young gentleman on 
 board the Speedy for orders." 
 
 As I could urge no plausible objection, the young gentle- 
 man was again sent back to the frigate. In the meantime. 
 Sennit had not been idle. Among my crew were a Swede 
 and a Prussian, and both these men having acquired their 
 English in London or Liverpool, he affected to believe they 
 were natives of the old island, ordering them to get their 
 dunnage ready to go under the pennant. Neither of the men, 
 however, was disposed to obey him, and when I joined the 
 group, leaving the Hon. Mr. Powlett waiting the return of 
 his boat, on the quarter-deck, I found the three in a warm 
 discussion on the subject. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 213 
 
 "I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Wallingford," Sennit cried, 
 as I approached, "we will compromise matters. Here are 
 two fellows who are Lancashire men, if the truth were 
 known, that pretend to be Norwegians, or Fins, or to come 
 from some other outlandish country or other, and I wish to 
 place them under his Majesty's pennant, where they properly 
 belong; as they are so reluctant to receive this honor, I 
 will consent to take that fine-looking Kentish man, who is 
 worth them both put together." 
 
 As this was said, Sennit pointed to Tom Voorhees, an 
 athletic, handsome young North River man, of Dutch ex- 
 traction, a fellow who had not a drop of English blood in 
 his veins, and the ablest-bodied and the best seaman in the 
 Dawn; a fact that the lieutenant's nautical tact had not 
 been slow to detect. 
 
 " You are asking me to let you have a man who was born 
 within ten miles of myself," I answered, " and whose family 
 I know to be American, for near two centuries." 
 
 "Ay, ay; you're all of ^/^ families in America, as every- 
 body knows. The chap is English born, for a hundred 
 guineas ; and I could name a spot in Kent not ten miles 
 distant from that where he first saw the light. I do not say, 
 however, you were not his neighbor — for you have a Dover 
 look, yourself." 
 
 " You might be less disposed to pleasantry, sir, were this 
 a thirty-six, or were you and I on shore." 
 
 Sennit gave me a disdainful look, and terminated the 
 affair by ordering Voorhees to get his chest ready, and to 
 join the two other men he had pressed. Taking example, 
 however, from the Swede and the Prussian, Voorhees walked 
 away, using no measures to obey. As for myself, thor- 
 oughly disgusted with this man, a vulgar rogue, I walked 
 aft to the other lieutenant, who was only a gentleman-like 
 dunce. 
 
 Mr. Powlett now began to converse of London ; and he 
 told me how often he had been at the opera when last in 
 
214 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 town — and remarked what an exceedingly delightful pte 
 champetre was Lady Somebody's entertainment of that sort. 
 This occupied us until the boat returned, with a very civil 
 request from the captain of the Speedy that I would do him 
 the favor to pay him a visit, bringing with me the ship's 
 papers. As this was what no belligerent had a right to de- 
 mand, though privateersmen constantly did it, I could com- 
 ply or not. Fancying it might expedite matters, regarding 
 the civility of the request as a good omen, and feeling a 
 desire to deal with principals in an affair that was very 
 needlessly getting to be serious, I consented to go. Marble 
 was called, and formally told to take charge of the ship. I 
 could see a smile of contempt on Sennit's face, at this little 
 ceremony, though he made no objection in terms. I had 
 expected that the first lieutenant would go to the frigate 
 with me, but, after a short consultation with his junior, the 
 last was deputed to do me this honor. 
 
 Sennit now appeared disposed to show me every slight 
 and indignity it was in his power to manifest. Like all 
 vulgar-minded men, he could not refrain from maltreating 
 those whom he designed to injure. He made me precede 
 him into the boat, and went up the Speedy's side first, him- 
 self, on reaching that vessel. His captain's conduct was 
 very different. Lord Harry was not a very noble looking 
 personage, as your worshippers of rank imagine nobility 
 to appear, but he was decidedly well-mannered; and it was 
 easy enough to see he commanded his own ship, and was 
 admirably fitted so to do. I have had occasion to learn 
 that there is a vast deal of aristocratic and democratic cant 
 on the subject of the appearance, abilities, qualities, and 
 conduct of Europeans of birth and station. In the first 
 place, nature has made them very much as she makes other 
 people ; and the only physical difference there is proceeds 
 from habit and education. Then, as to the enervating 
 effects of aristocracy and noble effeminacy, I have seen ten 
 times as much of it among your counter-jumpers and dealers 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 21$ 
 
 in bobinet as I have seen in the sons of dukes and princes; 
 and in my latter days circumstances have brought me much 
 in contact with many of these last. Manliness of character 
 is far more likely to be the concomitant of aristocratic birth, 
 than of democratic, I am afraid; for, while those who 
 enjoy the first feel themselves above popular opinion, those 
 who possess the last bow to it, as the Asiatic slave bows to 
 his master. I wish I could think otherwise; but experience 
 has convinced me of these facts, and I have learned to feel 
 the truth of an axiom that is getting to be somewhat familiar 
 among ourselves, viz., " that it takes an aristocrat to make 
 a true democrat." Certain I am that all the real manly in- 
 dependent democrats I have ever known in America have 
 been accused of aristocracy, and this simply because they 
 were disposed to carry out their principles, and not to let 
 that imperious sovereign, "the neighborhood," play the 
 tyrant over them. As for personal merit, quite as fair a 
 proportion of talent is found among the well-born as among 
 the low ; and he is but an ad captandum vulgus sort of a 
 philosopher who holds the contrary doctrine. Talleyrand 
 was of one of the most ancient and illustrious houses of 
 Europe, as was Turenne; while Mansfield, Erskine, Grey, 
 Wellington, and a host of Englishmen of mark of our time, 
 came of noble blood. No, no, the cause of free institutions 
 has much higher and much juster distinctions to boast of 
 than this imaginary superiority of the humbly-born over 
 those who come of ancient stock. 
 
 Lord Harry Dermond received me just as one of his station 
 ought to receive one of mine, politely, without in the least 
 compromising his own dignity. There was a good-natured 
 smile on his face, of which, at first, I did not know what to 
 make. He had a private conversation with Sennit, too, but 
 the smile underwent no change. In the end, I came to the 
 conclusion that it was habitual with him, and meant 
 nothing. But, thougli so much disposed to smile, Lord 
 Harry Dermond was equally disposed to listen to every sug- 
 
2l6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 gestion of Sennit that was likely to favor the main chance. 
 Prize money is certainly a great stain on the chivalry of all 
 navies, but it is a stain with which the noble wishes to be 
 as deeply dyed as the plebeian. Human nature is singu- 
 larly homogeneous on the subject of money ; and younger- 
 son nature, in the lands of majorats and entails, enjoys a 
 liveliness of longing on the subject that is quite as con- 
 spicuous as the rapacity of the veriest plebeian who ever 
 picked a pocket. 
 
 "I am very sorry, Captain Wallingford," Captain Lord 
 Harry Dermond observed to me, when his private conference 
 with Sennit was ended, and altogether superior to the weak- 
 ness of Powlett, who would have discussed the point, " that 
 it is my duty to send your ship into Plymouth. The French 
 have got such an ascendency on the Continent that we are 
 obliged to use every act of vigilance to counteract them. 
 Then, your cargo is of enemy's growth." 
 
 "As for the ascendency, my lord, you will see we Ameri- 
 cans have nothing to do with it; and my cargo, being nec- 
 essarily of last year's crops, must have been grown and 
 manufactured in a time of general peace. If it were not, I 
 do not conceive it would legalize my capture." 
 
 "We must leave Sir William Scott to decide that, my 
 good sir," answered the captain, with his customary smile; 
 " and there is no use in our discussing the matter. An un- 
 pleasant duty" — as if he thought the chance of putting two 
 or three thousand pounds in his pocket unpleasant! — "an 
 unpleasant duty, however, need not be performed in a dis- 
 agreeable manner. If you will point out what portion of 
 your people you could wish to keep in your ship, it shall be 
 attended to. Of course, you remain by your property your- 
 self ; and I confess, whatever may be done with the cargo, I 
 think the ship will be liberated. As the day is advancing, 
 and it will require some little time to exchange the people, 
 I should be exceedingly happy if you would do me the favor 
 to lunch in my cabin." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 21/ 
 
 This was gentlemanly conduct, if it were not lawful. I 
 could foresee a plenty of evil consequences to myself in the 
 delay, though I own I had no great apprehensions of a con- 
 demnation. There was my note to John Wallingford to 
 meet, and two months' detention might keep me so long 
 from home as to put the payment at maturity quite out of 
 the question. Then came the mortgage on Clawbonny, 
 with its disquieting pictures; and I was in anything but a 
 good humor to enjoy Lord Harry Dermond's hospitality. 
 Still, I knew the uselessness of remonstrances, and the want 
 of dignity there would be in repining, and succeeded in 
 putting a good face on the matter. 
 
 I simply requested that my chief mate, the cook, and 
 Neb might be left in the Dawn, submitting it to the discre- 
 tion of my captors to take out of her as many of the re- 
 mainder of her people as they saw fit. 
 
 Lord Harry remarked it was not usual to leave a mate, 
 but to oblige me, he would comply. The frigate would go 
 in for water in the course of a fortnight, when I might de- 
 pend on having the entire crew, his Majesty's subjects ex- 
 cepted, restored to my command. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ist Gent. What is my ransom, master ? Let me know. 
 Mast. A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head. 
 Mate. And so much shall you give, or off goes yours. 
 
 King Henry VI. 
 
 I NEVER saw a man more astounded, or better disposed to 
 fly into a passion than was the case with Mr. Moses Oloff 
 Van Duzer Marble, when he was told that the Dawn was to 
 be sent into England, for adjudication. Nothing kept his 
 tongue within the bounds of moderation, and I am far from 
 certain I might not add his fists, but my assurances he 
 would be sent on board the Speedy, unless he behaved with 
 prudence. As our people were sent out of the ship, I 
 
2l8 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 thought, several times, he would break out in open hostili- 
 ties; and he did actually propose to me to knock Sennit 
 down, and throw him overboard. 
 
 With a significant look, I told him it was not time for 
 this. The mate now laid a finger on his nose, winked, and 
 from that moment he not only seemed cheerful, but he as- 
 sisted in hoisting in and out the different articles that were 
 exchanged, in shifting'the crews. 
 
 When all was ready, it appeared that Sennit was to be our 
 prize master. Although a lieutenant in commission, he had 
 only been lent to Lord Harry Dermond by the admiral, in 
 order to fill up the crew of that favored officer; the Speedy 
 having her regular complement of lieutenants without him. 
 As the cruise was so nearly up, and the ship had experi- 
 enced great success in impressing since she sailed, Sennit 
 could be spared; and, if the truth were said, I make no 
 doubt his messmates in the frigate were glad to be rid of 
 him, now they had no further occasion for his peculiar skill 
 and services. 
 
 Mr. Sennitt brought on board with him, as a prize crew, 
 ten foremast-men, besides a master's mate of the name of 
 Diggins. 
 
 Under ordinary circumstances, this last dignitary would 
 have been of sufficient skill to take the ship in; but this 
 was the first prize Lord Harry had taken; she promised to 
 be valuable if condemned ; and I suppose he and his young 
 gentleman-like luffs were desirous of getting rid of their 
 vulgar associate. At any rate, Messrs. Sennit and Diggins 
 both came on board us, bag and baggage. 
 
 The various changes, the lunch, and the chase of the 
 morning had so far worn away the day that the two vessels 
 did not make sail until four o'clock, p.m., when both ships 
 filled at the same time; the Speedy on a wind, with two 
 reefs in her topsails, as when first seen, to play about for 
 more prizes, and the Dawn under studding-sails, with the 
 wind nearly over the taffrail. When all was ready, each 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 219 
 
 ship started away from the vacant point on the ocean, where 
 they had been lying for hours, moving on diverging lines, at 
 a rate that soon put a wide expanse of water between them. 
 
 I felt the circumstance of being left under the command 
 of such a man as Sennit almost as sensibly as I felt the loss 
 of my ship. He and the mate established themselves in my 
 cabin, within the first hour, in a way that would have 
 brought about an explosion, had not policy forbade it, on 
 my part. Sennit even took possession of my stateroom, in 
 which he ordered his own cot to be swung, and from which 
 he coolly directed my mattress to be removed. 
 
 As the lockers were under locks and keys, I permitted 
 him to take possession without a remonstrance. Diggins 
 stowed his bedding in Marble's berth, leaving my mate and 
 myself to shift for ourselves. At a suggestion from Marble, 
 I affected great indignation at this treatment, directing Neb 
 to clear away a place in the steerage, in which to live, and 
 to swing hammocks there for Marble and myself. This 
 movement had some effect on Sennit, who was anxious to get 
 at the small stores; all of which were under good locks, and 
 locks that he did not dare violate, under an order from the 
 admiralty. It was, therefore, of much importance to him to 
 belong to my mess; and the necessity of doing something 
 to appease my resentment became immediately apparent to 
 him. He made some apologies for his cavalier conduct, 
 justifying what he had done on the score of his rank and 
 the usages of navies, and I thought it prudent to receive his 
 excuses in a way to avoid an open rupture. 
 
 Sennit was left in possession of the stateroom, but I re- 
 mmined in the steerage; consenting, however, to mess in the 
 cabin. This arrangement, which was altogether premedi- 
 tated on my part, gave me many opportunities of consulting 
 privately with Marble ; and of making sundry preparations 
 for profiting by the fi^^t occasion that should offer to retake 
 the ship. In that day, recaptures were of pretty frequent 
 occurrence; and I no sooner understood the Dawn was to 
 
220 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 be sent in than I began to reflect on the means of effecting 
 my purpose. Marble had been kept in the ship by me ex- 
 pressly with this object. 
 
 I suppose the reader to have a general idea of the posi- 
 tion of the vessel, as well as of the circumstances in which 
 she was placed. We were just three hundred and fifty-two 
 miles to the southward and westward of Scilly, when I ob- 
 served at meridian, and the wind blowing fresh from the 
 south-south-west, there was no time to lose, did I meditate 
 anything serious against the prize crew. The first occasion 
 that presented to speak to my mate offered while we were 
 busy together in the steerage stowing away our effects, and 
 making such dispositions as we could to be comfortable. 
 
 "What think you, Moses, of this Mr. Sennit and his 
 people?" I asked, in a low voice, leaning forward on a 
 water-cask, in order to get my head nearer to that of the mate. 
 "They do not look like first-rate man-of-war's-men ; by 
 activity and surprise could we not handle them?" 
 
 Marble laid a finger on his nose, winked, looked as saga- 
 cious as he knew how, and then went to the steerage door, 
 which communicated with the companion-way, to listen if 
 all were safe in that quarter. Assured that there was no 
 one near, he communicated his thoughts as follows: 
 
 " The same idee has been at work here," he said, tapping 
 his forehead with a forefinger, " and good may come of it. 
 This Mr. Sennit is a cunning chap, and will want good 
 looking after, but his mate drinks like a coal-heaver; I can 
 see that in his whole face ; a top-lantern is not lighter. He 
 must be handled by brandy. Then, a more awkward set of 
 long-shore fellows were never sent to manage a square-rigged 
 craft than these which have been sent from the Speedy. 
 They must have given us the very sweepings of the hold. 
 
 "You know how it is with these dashing young man-of- 
 war captains; they keep all their best materials for a fight. 
 French frigates are tolerably plenty, they tell me, and this 
 Lord Harry Dermond, much as he loves sugar and coffee. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 221 
 
 would like to fall in with a La Vigilante, or a La Diane, of 
 equal force, far better. This is the secret of his giving 
 Sennit such a set of raw ones. Besides, he supposes the 
 Dawn will be at Plymouth in eight-and-forty hours, as will 
 certainly be the case should this wind stand. 
 
 " The fellows are just so many London loafers. [I have 
 always thought Marble had the merit of bringing this word 
 into fashion.] There are but three seamen among them, 
 and they are more fit for a hospital than for a lower yard or 
 a jib-boom." 
 
 There was a good deal of truth, blended with some exag- 
 geration, mixed up with this statement of the mate. As a 
 matter of course, the captain of the Speedy had not sent 
 away his best men, though they were not quite as bad as 
 Marble, in his desire to overcome them, was disposed to 
 fancy. It is true there were but three of their number whom 
 the quick nautical instinct of the mate had recognized as 
 real seamen, though all had been on board ship long 
 enough to render them more or less useful. 
 
 "Whatever we do must be done at once," I rejoined. 
 " We are four athletic men to act against twelve. The odds 
 are heavy, but we shall have the advantage of being picked 
 men, and of attacking by surprise." 
 
 " I wish you had thought of asking to keep Voorhees in 
 the ship, Miles; that fellow would be worth three ordinary 
 men to us." 
 
 "I did think of it, but the request would never have been 
 granted. One could ask for a cook, or a mate, or a servant 
 like Neb, but to ask for an able seaman or two would have 
 been to declare our object." 
 
 ** I believe you're right, and we must be thankful for the 
 good stuff we have, as it is.. How far will the law bear us 
 out in knocking men on the head in such an undertaking? 
 It's peace for Americ^ and we must steer clear of piracy!" 
 
 " I've thought of all that, Moses, and see no great cause 
 of apprehension. A man has certainly a right to recover 
 
222 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 that by the strong hand which he lost by the strong hand. 
 Should blood be spilt, which I hope to avert, the English 
 courts might judge us harshly, while the American would 
 acquit us. The law would be the same in both cases, though 
 its administration would be very different. I am ready to 
 cast my own fortune on the issue, and I wish no man to join 
 me who will not do so, heart and hand. I see no reason 
 to suppose it will be necessary to take life, to which I have 
 as strong a reluctance as you can have yourself." 
 
 "There's my hand!" exclaimed Marble, "and as for its 
 owner's heart, you well know where that is to be found, 
 Miles. Enough has been said for a beginning. We will 
 look about us this afternoon, and talk further after supper." 
 
 "Good. Do you say a word to Billings, the cook, and I 
 will open the matter to Neb. Of the last we are certain 
 but it may be well to make some promises to your man." 
 
 " Leave that to me. Miles. I know my chap, and will 
 deal with him as I would with an owner." 
 
 Marble and myself now separated, and I went on deck to 
 observe how things promised in that quarter. By this time, 
 the Speedy's topsails were beginning to dip, and the Dawn 
 was driving forward on her course, with everything drawing 
 that she could carry. All the English were on deck, Sennit 
 included. The last gave me a sufficiently civil salute as I 
 put my foot on the quarter-deck, but I avoided falling into 
 any discourse with him. My cue was to note the men, and 
 to ascertain all I could concerning their distribution during 
 the approaching night. Diggins, I could see, was a red- 
 faced fellow, who probably had lost his promotion through 
 love of the bottle, though, as often happens with such per- 
 sons, a prime seaman and a thorough man-of-war's-man. Of 
 him, I thought I could make sure by means of brandy. 
 Sennit struck me as being a much more difficult subject to 
 get along with. There were signs of cognac about his face, 
 too, but he had more rank, more at stake, and brighter hopes 
 than the master's mate. Then he was evidently better prac- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 223 
 
 tised in the ways of the world than his companion, and had 
 constantly a sort of uneasy vigilance about his eye and 
 manner that gave me no little concern. 
 
 It was my wish to strike a blow, if possible, that very 
 night, every minute carrying us fast toward the chops of the 
 Channel, where the English had so many cruisers in gen- 
 eral as to render ultimate escape next to impossible, should 
 we even be so lucky as to regain command of our own ship. 
 I was afraid, moreover, Sennit might take it into his head 
 to have all hands all night, under the pretext of drawing in 
 with the land. Should he actually adopt this course, our 
 case was nearly hopeless. 
 
 "Your mate seems to love the cupboard, Mr. Walling- 
 ford," Sennit remarked to me, in a good-natured manner, 
 with an evident wish to establish still more amicable rela- 
 tions between us than had yet existed ; " he has been in and 
 about that alley these ten minutes, fidgeting with his tin-pot, 
 like a raw hand who misses his mother's tea!" 
 
 Sennit laughed at his own humor, and I could hardly 
 answer with a smile, for I knew my mate had adopted this 
 experiment to open communications with the cook. 
 
 " Mr. Marble is famous for his love of slops," I answered, 
 evasively. 
 
 " Well, he does not look it. I have seldom seen a more 
 thorough-looking sea-dog than your mate. Captain Walling' 
 ford" — this was the first time Sennit had dignified me with 
 this title — "and I took a fancy to him on that account, as 
 soon as I saw him. You will do me the favor to sup with 
 us in the cabin, I hope, for I see signs at the galley that it 
 will soon be ready?" 
 
 " I shall expect to join your mess, sir, now explanations 
 have passed between us. I suppose my mate is to be one of 
 my party, as well as yours?" 
 
 " Certainly. I shall ask the favor of you to let Mr. Mar- 
 ble relieve Diggins, for half an hour or so, while the poor 
 fellow gets a bite. We'll do as much for you another time." 
 
224 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 This was said in a dry, laughing sort of a way, which 
 showed that Mr. Sennit was fully aware he was making a 
 request a little out of rule, to ask a man to aid in carrying 
 his own ship into port as a prize; but I took it, as it was 
 meant, for a rough joke that had convenience at the bottom. 
 
 It was not long ere Neb came to announce that supper 
 was ready. Sennit had made but an indifferent dinner, it 
 would seem, and he appeared every way disposed to take 
 his revenge on the present occasion. Calling out to me to 
 follow, he led the way cheerfully into the cabin, professing 
 great satisfaction at finding we were to make but one mess 
 of it. Strictly speaking, a prize crew, under circumstances 
 like those in which the Dawn was now placed had no right 
 to consume any portion of the vessel's own stores, condem- 
 nation being indispensable to legalize Lord Harry Der- 
 mond's course, even according to the laws of his own coun- 
 try. But I had ordered Neb to be liberal with my means, 
 and a very respectable entertainment was spread before our 
 eyes, when we reached the cabin. Sennit was soon hard at 
 work; but, under pretence of looking for some better sugar 
 than had been placed on the table, I got three bottles of 
 brandy privately into Neb's hands, whispering him to give 
 one to the master's mate on deck, and the other two to the 
 crew. I knew there were too many motives for such a bribe, 
 connected with our treatment, the care of our private prop- 
 erty, and other things of that nature, to feel any apprehen- 
 sion that the true object of this liberality would be sus- 
 pected by those who were to reap its advantages. 
 
 Sennit, Marble, and myself sat quite an hour at table. 
 The former drank freely of wine; though he declined hav- 
 ing anything to do with the brandy. As he had taken two 
 or three glasses of the rejected liquor in my presence before 
 the two ships parted, I was convinced his present forbear- 
 ance proceeded from a consciousness of the delicate circum- 
 stances in which he was placed, and I became rather more 
 wary in my own movements. At length the lieutenant said 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 22$ 
 
 something about the " poor devil on deck," and Marble was 
 sent up to look out for the ship, while Diggins came below 
 to eat. The instant the master's mate appeared, I could see 
 the brandy had been doing its work on him, and I was fear- 
 ful his superior might notice it. He did not, however, be- 
 ing too well pleased with the Madeira I had set before him, 
 to trouble himself about a few drams, more or less, that 
 might have fallen to the share of his subordinate. 
 
 At length this memorable supper, like everything else of 
 earth, came to an end, and all of us went on deck in a body; 
 leaving Neb and the cook to clear away the fragments. It 
 was now night, though a soft starlight was diffused over the 
 surface of the rolling water. The wind had moderated a 
 little, and the darkness promised to pass without any extra 
 labor to the people, several of the studding-sails having 
 been taken in by Diggins's orders, when he first went below. 
 
 When seamen first come on deck at sea, there is usually a 
 pause in the discourse, while each notes the weather, the 
 situation of the ship, and the signs of the hour. Sennit and 
 myself did this, almost as a matter of course, separating, 
 in order that each might make his observation at leisure. 
 As for Marble, he gave up the command of the deck to Dig- 
 gins, walking forward by himself. Neb and the cook were 
 keeping up the customary clattering with plates, knives, and 
 forks. 
 
 **Have the people had their suppers yet, Mr. Diggins?" 
 demanded the lieutenant. 
 
 " Not yet, sir. W e have no cook of our own, you know, 
 sir, and so have been obliged to wait, sir." 
 
 "The king's men wait for nobody. Order that black 
 fellow to let them have their suppers at once; while that is 
 doing, we'll tell off the watches for the night." 
 
 Diggins was evidently getting more and more under the 
 
 influence of brandy, keeping the bottle hid somewhere near 
 
 him, by which means he fbok frequent draughts unperceived. 
 
 He gave the necessary orders, notwithstanding; and pre- 
 
 »5 
 
226 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 sently the men were mustered aft, to be told off into the 
 two watches that were required for the service of the ship. 
 This was soon done, Sennit choosing five, and Diggins his 
 five. 
 
 " It's past eight o'clock," said Sennit, when the selections 
 were made. " Go below the watch, and all but the man at 
 the wheel of the watch on deck can go below to the lights 
 to eat. Bear a hand with your suppers, my lads; this is 
 too big a craft to be left without lookouts forward, though I 
 dare say the Yankees will lend us a hand while you are 
 swallowing a mouthful ? " 
 
 " To be sure we will, sir," cried Marble, who had come 
 to the gangway to witness the proceedings. " Here, you 
 Neb, come out of that galley and play forecastle-man, while 
 John Bull gets his supper. He's always cross when he's 
 hungry, and we'll feed him well to make a good neighbor- 
 hood." 
 
 This caused some who heard it to laugh, and others to 
 swear and mutter. Every one, nevertheless, appeared will- 
 ing to profit by the arrangement, the Englishmen being soon 
 below, hard at work around the kids. It now struck me that 
 Marble intended to clap the forecastle-hatch down suddenly, 
 and make a rush upon the prize officers and the man at the 
 wheel. Leaving one hand to secure the scuttle, we should 
 have been just a man apiece for those on deck; and I make 
 no doubt the project would have succeeded had it been at- 
 tempted in that mode. I was, by nature, a stronger man 
 than Sennit, besides being younger and in my prime, while 
 Diggins would not have been more than a child in Marble's 
 hands. As for the man at the wheel, Neb could have thrown 
 him half way up to the mizzentop on an emergency. But it 
 seemed that my mate had a deeper project in view; nor was 
 the other absolutely certain, as I afterward learned, one of 
 the Englishmen soon coming out of the forecastle to eat on 
 deck, quite likely aware that there might be some risk in 
 letting all hands remain below. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 22/ 
 
 It was now sufficiently dark for our purposes, and I be- 
 gan to reflect seriously on the best mode of proceeding, 
 when, all at once, a heavy splash in the water was heard, 
 and Marble was heard shouting, "Man overboard!" 
 
 Sennit and I ran to the lee main-rigging, where we just 
 got a glimpse of the hat of the poor fellow, who seemed to 
 be swimming manfully, as the ship foamed past him. 
 
 " Starboard your helm ! " shouted Marble. " Starboard 
 your helm ! Come to these fore-braces, Neb ; bear a hand 
 this a-way, you cook. Captain Wallingford, please lend us 
 a pull. Look out for the boat, Mr. Sennit; we'll take care 
 of the head-yards." 
 
 Now all this had been regularly concocted in the mate's 
 mind in advance. By these means he not only managed to 
 get all our people together, but he got them away from the 
 boat. The whole was done so naturally as to prevent the 
 smallest suspicion of any design. To do Sennit justice, I 
 must acknowledge that he behaved himself particularly 
 well on this sudden appeal to his activity and decision. 
 The loss of a man was to him a matter of deep moment ; all 
 his habits and propensities inclining him to be solicitous 
 about the manning of ships. A man saved was as good as 
 a man impressed; and he was the first person in the boat. 
 By the time the ship had lost her way the boat was ready, 
 and I heard Sennit call out the order to lower. As for us 
 Americans, we had our hands full to get the head-yards 
 braced up in time, and to settle away the topgallant 
 halyards, aft, in order to save the spars. In two minutes, 
 however, the Dawn resembled a steed that had suddenly 
 thrown his rider, diverging from his course, and shooting 
 athwart the field at right angles to his former track, scenting 
 and snuffing the air. Forward all was full, but the after- 
 yards having been square from the first, their sails lay 
 aback, and the ship was slawly forging ahead, with the seas 
 slapping against her bows, as if the last were admonishing 
 her to stop. 
 
228 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 I now walked aft to the taflfrail, in order to make certain 
 of the state of things. Just as I reached the stern, Sennit 
 was encouraging the men to " give way" with the oar. I 
 saw that he had six of his people with him, and no doubt 
 six of his best men — the boldest and most active being 
 always the most forward on such occasions. There was no 
 time to be lost, and I turned to look for Marble. He was 
 at my elbow, having sought me with the same object. We 
 walked away from the man at the wheel together, to get out 
 of earshot. 
 
 *'Now's your time, Miles," the mate muttered, slipping 
 one of my own pistols into my hands as he spoke. " That 
 master's mate isasmuzzy as a tapster at midnight, and I can 
 make him do what I please. Neb has his orders, and the 
 cook is ready and willing. You have only to say the word 
 to begin." 
 
 "There seems little necessity for bloodshed," I answered. 
 "If you have the other pistol, do not use it unnecessarily; 
 we may want it for the boat." 
 
 " Boat ! " interrupted Marble. " What more have we to 
 do with the boat? No — no — Miles; let this Mr. Sennit go 
 to England where he belongs. Now, see how I'll manage 
 Diggins," he added. " I want to get a luff purchase up out 
 of the forecastle ; will you just order two or three of your 
 fellows forward, to go down and pass it up for me? " 
 
 " D'ye hear there, forward," called out Diggins, with a 
 very thick tongue. "Tumble down into that forecastle, 
 three or four of you, and pass up the tackle for Mr. Marble." 
 
 Now, there were but three of the Englishmen left in the 
 ship, exclusively of the master's mate himself, and the man 
 at the wheel. This order, consequently, sent all three im- 
 mediately into the forecastle. Marble coolly drew over the 
 hatch, secured it, ordered the cook to keep a general lookout 
 forward, and walking aft, as if nothing occurred, said in 
 his quiet way: 
 
 "The ship's yours, again, Captain Wallingford." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 229 
 
 "Mr. Diggins," I said, approaching the master's mate, 
 " as I have a necessity for this vessel, which is my property, 
 if you please, sir, I'll now take charge of her in person. 
 You had better go below, and make yourself comfortable; 
 there is good brandy to be had for the asking, and you may 
 pass an agreeable evening, and turn in whenever it suits you." 
 
 Diggins was a sot and a fool, but he did not want for 
 pluck. His first disposition was to give battle, beginning 
 to call out for his men to come to his assistance, but I put 
 an end to this, by seizing him by the collar, and dropping 
 him, a little unceremoniously, down the companion-way. 
 Half an hour later, he was dead drunk, and snoring on the 
 cabin floor. 
 
 There remained only the man at the wheel to overcome. 
 He was a seaman, of course, and one of those quiet, orderly 
 men, who usually submit to the powers that be. Approach- 
 ing him, I said: 
 
 "You see how it is, my lad; the ship has again changed 
 owners. As for you, you shall be treated as you behave. 
 Stand to the wheel, and you'll get good treatment and plenty 
 of grog, but, by becoming fractious, you'll find yourself in 
 irons before you know where you are." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir," answered the man, touching his hat, and 
 contenting himself with this brief and customary reply. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Marble," I continued, " it is time to have an 
 eye on the boat, which will soon find the man, or give him 
 up. I own that I wish we had recovered the ship without 
 tossing the poor fellow overboard." 
 
 " Fellow overboard ! " cried Marble, laughing; "I'd ha' 
 thrown all England into the sea had it been necessary and 
 in my power, but it wasn't necessary to throw overboard so 
 much as a child. The chap they're arter is nothing but one 
 of the fenders, with the deep-sea lashed to its smaller end, 
 and a tarpaulin stopped on the larger! Mr. Sennit need be 
 in no great hurry, for I'll engage his * roan overboard ' will 
 float as long as his yawl ! " 
 
230 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 The whole of Marble's expedient was thus explained, and 
 I confess I was much relieved by a knowledge of the truth. 
 Apart from the general relief that accompanied the con- 
 sciousness of not having taken human life, should we again 
 fall into English hands, a thing by no means improbable in 
 the situation in which we were placed, this circumstance 
 might be of the last importance to us. In the meantime, 
 however, I had to look to the boat and to the ship. 
 
 The first thing we did was to clew up the three topgallant 
 sails. This gave us a much easier command of the vessel, 
 short-handed as we were, and it rendered it less hazardous 
 to the spars to keep the Dawn on a wind. When this was 
 done, I ordered the after-braces manned, and the leaches 
 brought as near as possible to touching. It was time ; for 
 the oars were heard, and then I got a view of the boat as it 
 came glancing down on our weather-quarter. I instantly 
 gave the order to fill the after sails, and to keep the ship 
 full and by. The braces were manned as well as they could 
 be by Marble, Neb, and the cook, while I kept an eye 
 on the boat, with an occasional glance at the man at the 
 wheel. 
 
 " Boat ahoy! " I hailed, as soon as the lieutenant got near 
 enough for conversation. 
 
 "Ay, boat ahoy! sure enough," growled Sennit; "some 
 gentleman's back will pay for this trick. The *man over- 
 board ' is nothing but a d — d paddy made out of a fender 
 with a tarpaulin truck! I suspect your mate of this, Mr. 
 Wallingford." 
 
 "My mate owns the offence, sir; it was committed to get 
 you out of the ship, while we took charge of her again. 
 The Dawn is under my orders once more, Mr. Sennit, and 
 before I permit you to come on board her again we must 
 have an understanding on the subject." 
 
 A long, meaning whistle, with a muttered oath or two, 
 satisfied me that the lieutenant had not the slightest sus- 
 picion of the truth, until it was thus abruptly announced to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2$ I 
 
 him. By this time the boat was under our stern, where she 
 was brought in order to be hooked on, the men intending to 
 come up by the tackles. 
 
 For this I cared not, however, it being an easy matter for 
 me, standing on the taffrail, to knock any one on the head 
 who should attempt to board us in that fashion. By way of 
 additional security, however, Neb was called to the wheel. 
 Marble taking the English sailor forward to help haul the 
 bowlines and trim the yards. The ship beginning to gather 
 way, too, I threw Sennit the end of a lower studding-sail 
 halyards that was brought aft for the purpose, ordered his 
 bowman to let go his hold of the tackle, and dropped the 
 boat a safe towing-distance astern. Neb being ordered to 
 keep the weather leaches touching, just way enough was got 
 on the ship to carry out the whole of this plan without risk 
 to anybody. 
 
 " You'll not think of leaving us out here on the Atlantic, 
 Mr. Wallingford, five hundred miles from Land's End," 
 Sennit at length called out, time having been taken to chew 
 the cud of reflection. 
 
 "That's as you behave, sir. I wish you no harm person- 
 ally, Mr. Sennit, though I much wish my own ship. The 
 night promises to be good and the wind is moderating, so 
 that the boat will be perfectly safe. I will have you hauled 
 up, and we will throw you a spare sail for a covering, and 
 you will have the consolation of knowing that we shall have 
 to keep watch while you are sleeping." 
 
 " Ay, sir, I understand it all ; Job's comfort that will be. 
 As I do not suppose you are to be coaxed out of the advan- 
 tage you have obtained, we have no choice but compliance. 
 Give us some food and water in addition, and for God's 
 sake! don't cast us adrift in this boat, so far from land." 
 
 I gave Sennit an assurance that we would take care of 
 him, and orders were issued to comply with his wishes. 
 We passed the sail into the boat, and lowered a bread-bag, 
 a kid full of beef and pork, and a breaker of fresh water. I 
 
232 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 took all these precautions the more readily, as I did not 
 know but we might be compelled to cast the boat adrift, 
 and one would not wish to resort to such a step, without 
 desiring to leave its crew the best possible chance for their 
 lives. I will do Marble the justice to say he was active in 
 making these arrangements, though had the question of de- 
 stroying the entire prize crew presented itself on one side, 
 and that of losing the ship on the other, he would not have 
 hesitated about sinking Great Britain itself, were it pos- 
 sible to achieve the last. I was more human, and felt ex- 
 ceedingly relieved when I again found myself in command 
 of the Dawn, after an interregnum of less than ten hours, 
 without a drop of blood having been spilled. 
 
 As soon as everything required was passed into the boat, 
 she was dropped astern, nearly to the whole length of the 
 studding-sail halyards. This would make her tow more 
 safely to both parties : to those in her, because there was 
 less risk of the ship's dragging her under, and to ourselves, 
 because it removed all danger of the Englishmen's return- 
 ing our favor, by effecting a surprise in their turn. At 
 such a distance from the ship, there would always be time 
 for us to rally and defeat any attempt to get alongside. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Capt. And as for these whose ransom we have set. 
 It is our pleasure, one of them depart : — 
 Therefore come you with us, and let him go. 
 
 King Henry VI. 
 
 By such simple means, and without resistance, as it might 
 be, did I recover the possession of my ship, the Dawn. 
 But now that the good vessel was in my power, it was by 
 no means an easy thing to say what was to be done with 
 her. We were just on the verge of the ground occupied by 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 233 
 
 the Channel cruisers, and it was preposterous to think of 
 running the gauntlet among so many craft with the expecta- 
 tion of escaping. It is true, we might fall in with twenty 
 English man-of-war vessels before we met with another 
 Speedy to seize and order us into Plymouth, had everything 
 been in order and in the usual state, but no cruiser would 
 or could board us, and not demand the reasons why so large 
 a ship should be navigated by so small a crew. It was over 
 matters like these that Marble and I now consulted, no one 
 being on the quarter-deck but the mate, who stood at the 
 wheel, and myself. The cook was keeping a look-out on 
 the forecastle. The Englishman had lain down, in full 
 view, by my orders, at the foot of the mainmast; while Neb, 
 ever ready to sleep when not on duty, was catching a nap 
 on the booms. 
 
 " We have got the ship, Moses," I commenced, *' and the 
 question next arises, what we are to do with her." 
 
 "Carry her to her port of destination. Captain Walling- 
 ford, to be sure. What else can we do with her, sir? " 
 
 "Ay, that is well enough, if it can be done. But, in ad- 
 dition to the difficulty of four men's taking care of a craft 
 of five hundred tons, we have a sea before us that is cov- 
 ered with English cruisers." 
 
 " As for the four men, you may safely set us down as 
 eight. I'll engage we do as much in a blow as eight such 
 fellows as are picked up now-a-days 'long shore. The men 
 of the present time are mere children to those one met with 
 in my youth. Miles." 
 
 " Neither Neb, nor the cook, nor I, am a man of other 
 times, but we are all men of to-day; so you must call us but 
 three, after all. I know we can do much ; but a gale may 
 come that would teach us our insignificance. As it is, we 
 are barely able to furl the main-topgallant sail in a squall, 
 leaving one hand at the wheel, and another to let go rigging. 
 No, no, Moses; we must admit we are rather short-handed, 
 putting the best face on the matter." 
 
234 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " If you generalize in that mode, Miles, my dear boy, I 
 must allow that we are. We can go up Channel, and ten 
 chances to one but we fall in with some Yankee who will 
 lend us a hand or two." 
 
 " We shall be twice as likely to meet with King George's 
 ships, who will overhaul our articles, and want to know 
 what has become of the rest of our people." 
 
 " Then we'll tell 'em that the rest of the crew has been 
 pressed ; they know their own tricks too well not to see the 
 reasonableness of such an idee." 
 
 " No officer would leave a vessel of this size with only 
 her master, mate, cook, and one man to take care of her, 
 even had he found a crew of deserters from his own ship in 
 her. In such a case, and admitting a right to impress from 
 a foreigner at all, it would be his duty to send a party to 
 carry the craft into port. No, no, Moses; we must give all 
 the English a wide berth, now, or they will walk us into 
 Plymouth, yet." 
 
 " Blast the hole ! I was in it a prisoner, during the revvy- 
 lution, and never want to see its face ag'in. They've got 
 what they call the Mill Prison there, and it's a mill that 
 does grinding less to my taste than the thing of yourn at 
 Clawbonny. Why not go north-about, Miles? There must 
 be few cruisers up that-a-way." 
 
 " The road is too long, the weather is apt to be too thick, 
 and the coast is too dangerous for us, Moses. We have but 
 two expedients to choose between — to turn our heads to the 
 westward, and try to get home, trusting to luck to bring us 
 up with some American who will help us, or steer due east 
 and run for a French port — Bordeaux for instance — where 
 we might either dispose of our cargo, or ship a new crew, 
 and sail for our port of destination." 
 
 " Then try the last, by all means. With this wind, we 
 might shove the ship in with the land in the course of two 
 or three days, and go clear of everything! I like the idee, 
 and think it can be carried out. Burdux is always full of 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 235 
 
 Americans, and there must be men enough to be had for the 
 asking knocking about the quays." 
 
 After a little further conversation, we determined on this 
 plan, and set about carrying it into execution on the spot. 
 In rounding-to, the ship had been brought by the wind on 
 the larboard tack, and was standing to the northward and 
 westward, instead of to the eastward, the course we now 
 wished to steer. It was necessary, therefore, to wear round 
 and get the ship's head in the right direction. This was 
 not a difficult manoeuvre at all, and the Englishman helping 
 us with seeming good-will, it was soon successfully executed. 
 When this was accomplished, I sent the English sailor into 
 the cabin to keep Diggins company, and we set a watch on 
 deck of two and two, Marble and myself taking charge four' 
 hours and four hours, in the old mode. 
 
 I acknowledge that I slept little that night. Two or three 
 times we detected Sennit attempting to haul close up under 
 the ship's stern, out of all question with a view to surprise 
 us, but as often would he drop to the length of his tow-rope, 
 as he saw Marble's head, or mine, watching him above the 
 taffrail. When the day dawned I was called, and was up 
 and on the lookout as our horizon enlarged and brightened 
 round the ship. The great object was to ascertain, as early 
 as possible, what vessels might be in our neighborhood. 
 
 But a solitary sail was visible. She appeared to be a 
 ship of size, close-hauled, heading to the southward and 
 eastward : by steering on our proper course, or certainly by 
 diverging a little to the northward, it would be an easy 
 matter to speak her. As I could plainly see she was not a 
 ship-of-war, my plan was formed in a moment. On com- 
 municating it to Marble, it met with his entire approbation. 
 
 Measures were taken, accordingly, to carry it into imme- 
 diate execution. 
 
 In the first place, I ordered Sennit, who was awake, and 
 had been, I believe, the whole night, to haul the boat up 
 and to lay hold of one of the boat-tackles. This he did 
 
236 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 willingly enough, no doubt expecting that he was to be re- 
 ceived into the ship, under a treaty. I stood on the look- 
 out, to prevent an attack, one man being abundantly able to 
 keep at bay a dozen who could approach only by ascending 
 a rope hand over hand, while Marble went below to look 
 after the two worthies who had been snoring all night in the 
 cabin. In a minute my mate reappeared, leading up the 
 seaman, who was still more asleep than awake. This man 
 was directed to lay hold of the tackle and slide down into 
 the boat. There being no remedy, and descending being 
 far easier than ascending, this exploit was soon performed, 
 and we were well rid of one of our enemies. Sennit now 
 began to remonstrate, and to point out the danger there was 
 of being towed under, the ship going through the water the 
 whole time at the rate of five or six knots. I knew, how- 
 ever, that the English were too skilful to run the risk of 
 being drowned, unnecessarily, and that they would let go of 
 the tackle before they would suffer the boat to be swamped. 
 It was ticklish work, I allow; but they succeeded surpris- 
 ingly well in taking care of themselves. 
 
 We had more difficulty with Diggins. This fellow had 
 been so beastly drunk that he scarce knew what he was 
 about when awoke ; and Marble rather dragged him on deck 
 and aft to the taffrail than assisted him to walk. There we 
 got him at last; and he was soon dangling by the tackle. 
 So stupid and enervated was the master's mate, however, 
 that he let go his hold, and went into the ocean. The souse 
 did him good, I make no doubt; and his life was saved by 
 his friends, one of the sailors catching him by the collar, 
 and raising him into the boat. 
 
 Sennit availed himself of this accident to make further 
 remonstrances on the subject of having any more men put in 
 the boat. It was easy to see, it was as much his policy to 
 get everybody out of that little conveyance, as it was mine 
 to get all the English into her. 
 
 "For God's sake, Captain Wallingford, knock off with 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 23/ 
 
 this, if you please," cried the lieutenant, with a most im- 
 ploring sort of civility of manner. "You see how it is; we 
 can barely keep the boat from swamping, with the number 
 we have in her; and a dozen times during the night I 
 thought the ship would drag her under. Nothing can be 
 easier than for you to secure us all, if you will let us come 
 on board, one at a time." 
 
 "I do not wish to see you in irons, Mr. Sennit; and this 
 will remove any necessity for resorting to an expedient so 
 unpleasant. Hold on upon the tackle, therefore, as I shall 
 feel obliged to cast you oif entirely, unless you obey orders." 
 
 This threat had the desired effect. One by one, the men 
 were let up out of the forecastle, and sent into the boat. 
 Cooked meat, bread, rum, and water were supplied to the 
 English; and, to be ready to meet any accident, we lowered 
 them a compass and Sennit's quadrant. We did the last at 
 his own earnest request, for he seemed to suspect we in- 
 tended sending him adrift, as indeed was my plan, at the 
 proper moment. 
 
 Although the boat had now twelve men in her, she was in 
 no danger, being a stout, buoyant, six-oared yawl, that might 
 have held twenty on an emergency. The weather looked 
 promising, too — the wind being just a good topgallant 
 breeze for a ship steering full and by. The only thing 
 about which I had any qualms was the circumstance that 
 southwest winds were apt to bring mists, and that the boat 
 might thus be lost. The emergency, nevertheless, was one 
 that justified some risks, and I pursued my plan steadily. 
 
 As soon as all the English were in the boat, and well 
 provided with necessaries, we felt at more liberty to move 
 about the ship, and exert ourselves in taking care of her. 
 The man at the wheel could keep an eye on the enemy — the 
 Dawn steering like a pilot-boat. Neb was sent aloft to do 
 certain necessary duty, apd the topgallant-sails being loose, 
 the clewlines were overhauled, and the sails set. I did 
 this more to prevent the English ship from suspecting some- 
 
238 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 thing wrong at seeing a vessel running off, before the wind, 
 under such short canvas, than from any desire to get ahead, 
 since we were already going so fast as to render it probable 
 we should pass the other vessel, unless we altered our course 
 to meet her. 
 
 Diogenes Billings, the cook, had now a little leisure to 
 serve us a warm breakfast. If Mr. Sennit were living, I 
 think he would do us the justice to say he was not forgotten. 
 We sent the people in the boat some good hot coffee, well 
 sweetened, and they had a fair share of the other comfortable 
 eatables of which we partook ourselves. We also got out 
 and sent them the masts and regular sails of the boat, which 
 was fitted to carry two sprits. 
 
 By this time the stranger ship was within two leagues of 
 us, and it became necessary to act. I sent Marble aloft to 
 examine the horizon, and he came down to report nothing 
 else was in sight. This boded well. I proceeded at once 
 to the taffrail, where I hailed the boat, desiring Sennit to 
 haul her up within comfortable conversing distance. This 
 was done immediately. 
 
 " Mr. Sennit," I commenced, " it is necessary for us to 
 part here. The ship in sight is English, and will take you 
 up. I intend to speak her, and will take care that she knows 
 where you are. By standing due east you will easily cut 
 her off, and there cannot be a doubt of her picking you up." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, consider a moment, Captain Wall- 
 ingford," Sennit exclaimed, "before you abandon us out 
 here, a thousand miles from land." 
 
 " You are just three hundred and twenty-six miles from 
 Scilly, and not much more from Land's End, Mr. Sennit, 
 with a wind blowing dead for both. Then your own coun- 
 trymen will pick you up, of a certainty, and carry you safe 
 into port." 
 
 "Ay — into one of the West India islands; if an English- 
 man at all, yonder vessel is a running West Indiaman; she 
 may take us all the way to Jamaica." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 239 
 
 " Well, then, you will have an opportunity of returning at 
 your leisure. You wished to take me almost as much out of 
 my course ; or, if not absolutely out of my course, quite as 
 much out of my time. I have as little relish for Plymouth 
 as you seem to have for Jamaica." 
 
 " But the stranger may be a Frenchman — now, I look at 
 him, he has a French look." 
 
 " If he should be French, he will treat you well. It will 
 be exchanging beef for soup-maigre for a week or two. 
 These Frenchmen eat and drink, as well as you English." 
 
 "But, Captain Wallingford, their prisons! This fellow 
 Bonaparte exchanges nobody this war, and if I get into 
 France I am a ruined man." 
 
 " And if I had gone into Plymouth, I fear I should have 
 been a ruined man, too." 
 
 " Remember we are of the same blood, after all — people 
 of the same stock — just as much countrymen as the natives 
 of Kent and Suffolk. Old Saxon blood, both of us." 
 
 "Thank you, sir; I shall not deny the relationship, since 
 it is your pleasure to claim it. I marvel, however, you did 
 not let your cousin's ship pass without detaining her." 
 
 "How could I help it, my dear Wallingford.? Lord 
 Harry is a nobleman, and a captain, and what could a poor 
 devil of a lieutenant, whose commission is not a year old, 
 do against such odds? No, no, there should be more feel- 
 ing and good fellowship between chaps like you and me, 
 who have their way to make in the world." 
 
 "You remind me of the necessity of being in motion. 
 Adieu, Mr. Sennit. Cut, Moses!" 
 
 Marble struck a blow with the axe on the studding-sail 
 halyards, and away the Dawn glided, leaving the boat toss- 
 ing on the waves twenty fathoms further astern, on the very 
 first send of the sea. What Mr. Sennit said, I could not 
 hear, now, but I very plainly saw him shake his fist at me, 
 and his head, too; and I make no manner of doubt, if he 
 called me anything, that he did not call me a gentleman. 
 
240 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 In ten minutes the boat was fully a mile astern. At first 
 Sennit did not appear disposed to do anything, lying mo- 
 tionless on the water in sullen stillness; but wiser thought 
 succeeded, and, stepping his two masts, in less than twenty 
 minutes I saw his sails spread, and the boat making the 
 best of its way to get into the track of the stranger. 
 
 It had been my intention, originally, to speak the strange 
 ship, as I had told Sennit; but seeing there was no proba- 
 bility of her altering her course so as to pass the boat, I 
 changed my purpose, and stood directly athwart her forefoot, 
 at about half a mile's distance. I set the Yankee bunting, 
 and she showed the English ensign in return. Had she 
 been French, however, it would have made no odds to me, 
 for what did I care about my late captors becoming prisoners 
 of war? They had endeavored to benefit themselves at my 
 cost, and I was willing enough to benefit myself at theirs. 
 
 We made our preparations for setting studding-sails now, 
 though I thought there were signs of a desire in the Eng- 
 lishman to speak me. I knew he must be armed, and felt 
 no wish to gratify him, inasmuch as he might take it into 
 his head to make some inquiries concerning the boat, which, 
 if not already visible from his decks, soon must be. I was 
 certain the Dawn, deep as she was, would go four feet to 
 the Indiaman's three, and, once past him, I had no appre- 
 hensions in the event of a chase. 
 
 The English ship caught sight of the boat when we were 
 about a mile on his lee-quarter, with lower and topmast 
 studding-sails set, going quite eight knots on a due east 
 course. We became aware of the fact by her hoisting a 
 jack at the fore. From that moment I gave myself no con- 
 cern on the subject of Sennit and his prize crew. Twenty 
 minutes later, we saw the ship back her main topsail, and, by 
 means of the glasses, we plainly perceived the boat along- 
 side of her. After some delay, the yawl was hoisted on the 
 deck of the ship, and the latter filled her topsail. I had 
 some curiosity to ascertain what would come next. It 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 24 1 
 
 would seem that Sennit actually induced the master of the 
 West Indiaman to give chase, for no sooner did the vessel 
 gather way than she bore up after us, packing on everything 
 that would draw. We were greatly rejoiced at having im- 
 proved the leisure time in making sail ourselves, for having 
 a lower studding-sail and two topmast studding-sails on the 
 ship, when this race began, I did not feel much apprehen- 
 sion of being overtaken. By way of making more sure of 
 an escape, however, we set the royals. 
 
 When the West Indiaman bore up in chase, we were about 
 two leagues ahead of our pursuer. So far from lessening 
 this distance, though she carried royal studding-sails, we 
 gradually increased it to three, until, satisfied he could do 
 nothing, the master of the strange ship took in his light 
 sails and hauled by the wind again, carrying the late prize 
 crew in a direct line from England. I afterward learned 
 that Sennit and his companions were actually landed in the 
 island of Barbadoes, after a pleasant passage of only 
 twenty-six days. I make no doubt it took them much 
 longer to get back again, for it was certain that not one of 
 them had reappeared in England six months from that day. 
 . We now had the ship to ourselves, though with a very 
 diminished crew. The day was the time to sleep; and, re- 
 lieving each other at the wheel, those who were off duty 
 slept most of the time when they were not eating. At six 
 in the evening, however, all hands were up, making our pre- 
 parations for the night. 
 
 At that hour the wind was steady and favorable, the 
 horizon clear of vessels of every sort, and the prospects of 
 a pleasant night were sufficiently good. The run in the 
 course of the day was equal to one hundred miles, and I 
 computed the distance to Brest at something less than four 
 hundred miles. By getting in nearer with the land I should 
 have the option of standing for any French port I pleased 
 that lay between Cherbourg and Bayonne. 
 
 " Well, Moses," I observed to my old friend and ship- 
 16 
 
242 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 mate, when we had finished our survey, " this looks prom- 
 ising! As long as the wind remains in this quarter, we 
 shall do well enough; should we actually get in safely, I 
 shall not regret the delay ; the credit of having done so good 
 a thing, and of having done it so well, being worth as much 
 to me as any interest on capital, or wear and tear of gear, 
 can possibly be. As for Mr. Sennit, I fancy he is some 
 sixty miles off here at the southward and westward, and 
 we've done with him for the voyage." 
 
 " Suppose he should fall in with the Speedy, and report 
 what has happened, Miles?" returned the mate. "I have 
 been calculating that chance. The stranger was standing 
 directly for the frigate's cruising ground, and he may meet 
 her. We will not halloo till we're out of the woods." 
 
 " That risk is so remote, I shall not let it give me any 
 trouble. It is my intention to run in for the land at our 
 fastest rate of sailing, and then profit by the best wind that 
 offers to get into the nearest haven. If you can suggest a 
 better scheme, Moses, I invite you to speak." 
 
 Marble assented, though I perceived he was not entirely 
 free from the apprehension he had named until the next 
 morning arrived, bringing with it no change, and still leav- 
 ing us a clear sea. That day and the succeeding night, too, 
 we made a capital run, and at meridian of the third day after 
 the recapture of the Dawn, I calculated our position to be 
 just one hundred and four miles to the southward and east- 
 ward of Ushant. The wind had shifted, however, and it 
 had just come out light at northeast. We went to work, all 
 hands of us, to get in the studding-sails, and to brace up 
 and haul aft; an operation that consumed nearly two hours. 
 We were so busily employed, indeed, as to have little or no 
 time to look about us, and my surprise was the less, there- 
 fore, when the cook called out " Sail ho ! " I was busy trim- 
 ming the main-yard, when the announcement was made, and 
 looking up, I saw a lugger standing toward us, and already 
 within long gunshot. I afterwards ascertained that perceiv- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 243 
 
 ing US to be approaching her, this craft had lain like a 
 snake in the grass, under bare poles, until she thought us 
 sufficiently near, when she made sail in chase. I saw at a 
 glance several important facts : in the first place, the lugger 
 was French beyond all dispute; in the second, she was a 
 cruiser, public or private; in the third, escape from herj 
 under any circumstances, was very highly improbable. But 
 why should we endeavor to escape from this vessel ? The 
 countries were at peace: we had just bought Louisiana from 
 France, and paid fifteen millions of dollars for it, thereby 
 not only getting the country ourselves, but keeping it out 
 of the hands of John Bull, and we were said to be excellent 
 friends, again. Then the Dawn had extricated herself from 
 English clutches, only a day or two before; no doubt the 
 lugger would give us all the aid we could require. 
 
 " She is French, for a thousand dollars, Moses ! " I cried, 
 lowering my glass from the first good look of the stranger; 
 " and by keeping away two points, we shall speak her in 
 fifteen minutes. 
 
 "Ay, French," rejoined the mate; "but, blast *em all 
 round, I'd much rather have nothing to do with any of the 
 rogues. I'll tell you how it is. Miles, these are onmoraliz- 
 ing times, and the sea is getting to be sprinkled with so 
 many Van Tassels that I'm afeard you and I'll be just that 
 dear, good old soul, my mother, and little Kitty, to be fright- 
 ened, or, if not exactly frightened, to be wronged out of our 
 just rights." 
 
 " Little fear of that this time, Moses — this is a French- 
 man ; as we are bound to a French port, he'll not hesitate 
 to lend us half a dozen hands, in order to help us along." 
 
 " Ay, and take half the ship and cargo for salvage ! I 
 know these piccaroons, and you ought to know 'em too, 
 Miles, for it's only two or three years since you were a pris- 
 oner of war among 'em. That was a delightful feelin', I 
 rather conclude." 
 
 " Times are altered, Moses, and I'll show confidence in 
 
244 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the change. Keep the ship away, Neb — so; meet her — 
 steer for the lugger's foremast; that will do." 
 
 Of course, these orders soon brought the two vessels 
 alongside of each other. As the lugger approached, we 
 made her out to be a stout, but active craft, of sixteen guns, 
 and apparently full of men. She set the " tricolor," when 
 half a mile distant, sure of her prey, should we turn out to 
 be a prize. We showed him the Stars and Stripes, fancying 
 he would treat them as a friend. 
 
 It was not long before both vessels had rounded-to, and 
 preparations were made to hail. 
 
 "What sheep's zat?" demanded one in good broken 
 English. 
 
 " The Dawn, of New York — may I ask the name of your 
 lugger?" 
 
 "Le Polisson — corsair Frangais — what you load, eh? " 
 
 "Sugar and coffee, with cochineal, and a few other 
 articles." 
 
 "Peste! — Vere you boun', monsieur, s* il vous plait V 
 
 " Hamburg." 
 
 "Diable! — zis is non ze chemin. How you came here, 
 sair, viz ze vin' at sow-vess ? " 
 
 "We are going in to Brest, being in need of a little 
 succor." 
 
 "You vish salvage, eh! Parbleu, we can do you zat 
 mosh good, as veil as anodair." 
 
 I was then ordered, privateer fashion, to lower a boat, 
 and to repair on board the lugger with my papers. When 
 told I had no stern or quarter-boat to lower, the Frenchman 
 manifested surprise; but he sent his own yawl for me. My 
 reception on board the Polisson was a little free for French- 
 men. The captain received me in person, and I saw, at a 
 glance, I had to deal with men who were out on the high 
 seas, with the fear of English prison-ships constantly before 
 their eyes, in quest of gold. I was not invited into the 
 cabin, a crowded, dark and dirty hole, for, in that day, the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 24$ 
 
 French were notoriously foul in their vessels, but was di- 
 rected to show my papers seated on a hen-coop. 
 
 As everything was regular about the register, manifest, 
 and clearance, I could see that Monsieur Gallois was not 
 in a particularly good humor. He had one, whom I took to 
 be a renegade Englishman, with him, to aid in the examin- 
 ation, though, as this man never spoke in my presence, I 
 was unable precisely to ascertain who he was. The two 
 had a long consultation in private, after the closest scrutiny 
 could detect no flaw in the papers. Then Monsieur Gallois 
 approached and renewed the discourse. 
 
 " Vy you have no boat, sair? " he asked. 
 
 " I lost my boat, three days since, about a hundred leagues 
 to the southward and westward." 
 
 " It is not have bad veddair ! Why you got no more 
 marins in your sheep? — eh! " 
 
 I saw it would be best to tell the whole truth, at once; 
 for, were I to get any aid from this lugger, the facts, sooner 
 or later, must be made known. Acoordingly, I gave the 
 Frenchman, and his English-looking companion, a full ac- 
 count of what had occurred between us and the Speedy. 
 After this narrative, there was another long conference be- 
 tween Monsieur Gallois and his friend. Then the boat 
 was again manned, and the captain of the lugger, accom- 
 panied by his privy counsellor and myself, went on board 
 the Dawn. Here, a very cursory examination satisfied my 
 visitors of the truth of my story. 
 
 I confess, I expected some commendation from a French- 
 man, when he heard the ready manner in which we had 
 got our vessel out of the hands of the Philistines. No such 
 thing; an expressive ^^ bon^^ had escaped Monsieur Gallois, 
 once or twice, it is true; but it was apparent he was looking 
 much sharper for some pretext to make us a prize himself, 
 than for reasons to ^ommend our conduct. Each new aspect 
 of the affair was closely scanned, and a new conference 
 with the adviser was held, apart. 
 
246 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Sair," said Monsieur Gallois, " I have mosh regret, but, 
 your sheep is bon prize. You have been prisonnier to ze 
 English, ze enemy of la France, and you shall not capture 
 yourself. L'Am^rique is not at war — is neutral, as you 
 shall say, and ze Am^ricains cannot make ze prize. I con- 
 sidair your ship, monsieur, as in ze hand of ze English, and 
 shall capture him. Mes regrets sont vtfs, mats que voulez- 
 vousl Ze corsair must do his devoir, ze same as ze sheep 
 national. I shall send you to Brest, vere, if you be not sold 
 par un dtcret, I shall be too happy to restore votre battment. 
 Allans r' 
 
 Here was a denouement to the affair, with a vengeance! I 
 was to be captured, because I had been captured. " Once 
 a corporal, always a corporal." As the English had taken 
 me, the French would take me. A prize to-day, you must 
 be a prize to-morrow. I have always thought the case of 
 the Dawn was the first of the long series of wrongs that were 
 subsequently committed on American commerce, in virtue 
 of this same principle, a little expanded and more effectually 
 carried out, perhaps, and which, in the end, terminated by 
 blockading all Europe, and interdicting the high seas on 
 paper. 
 
 I knew the uselessness of remonstrating with a rapacious 
 privateersman. " Let him send me in," I thought to my- 
 self, at first; "it is just where I wish to go; once in, the 
 minister must get me clear. The fellow will only be the 
 dupe of his own covetousness, and I shall profit by it, in 
 the degree that he will be a loser! " 
 
 I presume Monsieur Gallois entertained a very different 
 view of the matter, for he manifested great alacrity in throw- 
 ing a crew of no less than seventeen souls, big and little, on 
 board us. I watched these operations in silence, as did 
 Neb and Diogenes. As for Marble, he lighted a cigar, took 
 his seat on the windlass, and sat in dignified anger, ready 
 to explode on the slightest occasion, yet apprehensive he 
 might be sent out of the ship should he betray one-half of 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 24/ 
 
 what he felt. Out of the ship neither of us was sent, how- 
 ever, the French probably feeling indisposed to be troubled 
 with passengers in the narrow quarters they had for them- 
 selves. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 You are safe ; 
 Nay, more— almost triumphant. Listen, then, 
 And hear my words of truth. 
 
 Marino Faliero. 
 
 It was just four o'clock, p.m., when the Dawn and the 
 Polisson parted company, the former steering on her old 
 course for Brest, while the latter continued her cruise. The 
 lugger sailed like a witch, and away she went toward the 
 of chops the Channel on a bowline, leaving us to stand 
 toward the French coast, close-hauled, also, but on the 
 opposite tack. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to dwell on the feelings with 
 which we four, who were eye-witnesses of all that passed, 
 witnessed the proceedings. Even Diogenes was indignant. 
 As for Marble, I have already alluded to his state of mind, 
 and if I had not, the following dialogue, which took place 
 at sunset (the first that occurred between us in private since 
 the second capture — while the French were eating their 
 suppers), would serve to explain it. 
 
 " Well, Miles," the mate dryly observed, " whatever we 
 have to do must be done at once. When shall we begin ? 
 — in the middle, or in the morning watch ? " 
 
 "Begin what^ Moses? " I asked, a little surprised at the 
 settled manner in which he put his question. 
 
 " To throw these Frenchmen overboard. Of course, you 
 don't mean to let them carry your ship into Brest? " 
 
 "Why not? We were bound to Brest when we fell in 
 with them, and if they will take us there, it will only save 
 us the trouble of doing it ourselves." 
 
248 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Don't be deceived by any such hope, Miles. IVe been 
 in the hands of Frenchmen before I knew you, and there is 
 little hope of getting out of them, so long as the ship and 
 cargo will pay for detention. No, no, my dear boy, you 
 know I love you better than anything on 'arth, my dear old 
 soul of a mother and little Kitty excepted, for it wouldn't 
 be religious to like you better than my own flesh and blood; 
 but after these two, I like you better than any one on 'arth; 
 and I can't be quiet and see you run your property into the 
 fire. Never let the ship go into France after what has hap- 
 pened, if you can help it." 
 
 "Can we possibly help it? Or do you propose that four 
 men shall retake this vessel from seventeen ? " 
 
 " Well, the odds are not so great, Miles," Marble rejoined, 
 looking coolly round at the noisy set of little Frenchmen, 
 who were all talking together over their soup; certainly not 
 a very formidable band in a hand-to-hand encounter, though 
 full of fire and animation. " There are four of us, and only 
 seventeen of them, such as they are. I rather think we 
 could handle 'em all, in a regular set-to, with fists. There's 
 Neb, he's as strong as a jackass; Diogenes is another Her- 
 cules; and neither you nor I am a kitten. I consider you 
 as a match, in a serious scuffle, for the best four among them 
 chaps." 
 
 This was not said in the least boastingly, though certainly 
 the estimate of comparative force made by my mate was 
 enormously out of the way. It was true that we four were 
 unusually powerful and athletic men; but it was also true 
 that six of the French might very well be placed in the same 
 category. I was not subject to the vulgar prejudice of na- 
 tional superiority, I hope; one of the strongest of all the 
 weaknesses of our very weak nature. I have never yet been 
 in a country of which the people did not fancy themselves, 
 in all particulars, the salt of the earth; though there are 
 very different degrees in the modes of bragging on such 
 subjects. In the present instance, Marble had not the least 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 249 
 
 idea of bragging, however; for he really believed we four, 
 in an open onslaught, fire-arms out of the question, might 
 have managed those seventeen Frenchmen. I think, myself, 
 we might have got along with twice our number, taking a 
 fair average of the privateer's men, and reducing the strug- 
 gle to the arms of nature; but I should have hesitated a 
 long time in making an open attack even on them. 
 
 Still, I began to regard my chances of escaping, should 
 we be sent into a French port by the privateer, as far less 
 certain than they had appeared at first. Marble had so 
 much to say of the anarchists in France, as he had known 
 them in the worst period of the Revolution, and so many 
 stories to tell of ships seized and of merchants ruined, that 
 my confidence in the right was shaken. Bonaparte was 
 then in the height of his consular power — on the point of 
 becoming emperor, indeed — and he had commenced this 
 new war with a virulence and disregard of acknowledged 
 rights, in the detention of all the English then resident in 
 France, that served to excite additional distrust. Whatever 
 may be said of the comprehensiveness and vastness of the 
 genius of Napoleon, as a soldier and statesman, I presume 
 few upright and enlightened men can now be found to eulo- 
 gize his respect for public law. At any rate, I began to 
 have lively misgivings on the subject; and the consultation 
 between my mate and myself terminated in our coming to a 
 resolution to serve the French prize crew substantially as 
 we had served the English prize crew, if possible; varying 
 the mode only to suit the new condition of things. The 
 last precaution was necessary, as, in the fullness of my con- 
 fidence, I had made Monsieur Gallois acquainted with all 
 the circumstances of throwing the fender overboard, and the 
 manner in which we had got possession of the ship. It was 
 not to be expected, therefore, that particular artifice could 
 be made to succeed with him. 
 
 It must have been the result of prejudice, and of constant 
 reading of articles extracted from the English journals, that 
 
250 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 influenced me; but I confess it seemed a much easier mat- 
 ter to retake my ship from seventeen Frenchmen, than from 
 twelve Englishmen. I was not so besotted as to suppose 
 surprise or artifice would not be necessary in either case; 
 but, had the issue been made up on brute force, I should 
 have begun the fray with greater confidence in the first than 
 in the last case. All this would have been very wrong in 
 our particular situation, though, as a rule and as applied to 
 seafaring men, it might be more questionable. How often, 
 and how much, have I seen reason to regret the influence 
 that is thus silently obtained amongst us, by our consenting 
 to become the retailers of other people's prejudices? One 
 of the reasons why we have so long been mere serviles on 
 this point is owing to the incompleteness of the establish- 
 ments of the different leading presses of the country. We 
 multiply, instead of enlarging these enterprises. The want 
 of concentration of talent compels those who manage them 
 to resort to the scissors instead of the pen ; and it is almost 
 as necessary for an American editor to be expert with the 
 shears as it is for a tailor. Thus the public is compelled 
 to receive hashes, instead of fresh dishes; and things that 
 come from a distance, notoriously possessing a charm, it 
 gets the original cookery of London, instead of that of their 
 own country. 
 
 Prejudice or not, confidence is not a bad thing when a 
 conflict is unavoidable. It may be well to respect your 
 enemy down to the very moment of making the chrage ; but, 
 that commenced, the more he is despised the better. When 
 Diogenes and Neb were told it would be necessary to go 
 over again the work so lately thought to be completed, 
 neither of the negroes manifested the least concern. Di- 
 ogenes had been in the Crisis, as well as Neb, and he had 
 got to entertain a very Anglican sort of notion of French 
 prowess on the water; and, as for my own black, he would 
 have followed without the slightest remonstrance wherever 
 " Masser Mile please to lead." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2$ I 
 
 "They's only French," said Diogenes, in a philosophical 
 sort of way; "we can handle 'em like children." 
 
 I would not discourage this notion, though I saw its folly. 
 Telling our two supporters to hold themselves ready for an 
 attack, Marble and I left them, to cogitate and commence 
 the manner of proceeding. Whatever was done, must be 
 done that night ; there being reason to think the ship would 
 get in somewhere, next day. 
 
 The name of our prize master was Le Gros. He was not 
 aptly designated, however, being a little, shrivelled, yellow- 
 faced fellow, who did not seem to be a Hercules at all. 
 Nevertheless, unlike Sennit, he was all vigilance and 
 activity. He never left the deck, and, being so near in 
 with the coast, I felt pretty certain we should have his com- 
 pany above board all night. Whatever was attempted, 
 therefore, must be attempted in defiance of his watchfulness. 
 Nor was this all ; additional prudence was necessary, since 
 we were so near the coast as greatly to increase the chance 
 of our being picked up by some other French cruiser, should 
 we even escape from this. Extreme caution was our cue, 
 therefore, and Marble and I separated, seemingly each to 
 take his repose, with a perfect understanding on all these 
 points. 
 
 Monsieur Le Gros paid no attention to the staterooms, or 
 to the accommodations below. His whole care was be- 
 stowed on the ship. Apprehension of falling in with some 
 British cruiser kept his eyes wide open and his gaze con- 
 stantly sweeping the horizon, so far as the obscurity would 
 allow. I was incessantly on the alert myself, stealing up 
 from the cabin, as far as the companion-way, at least a 
 dozen time in the course of the night, in the hope of finding 
 him asleep; but, on each occasion, I saw him moving up 
 and down the quarter-deck, in rapid motion, armed to the 
 teeth, and seemingly insensible to fatigue and all the other 
 weaknesses of nature. It was useless to attempt to find him 
 off his guard, and, worn out, Marble and myself fell into 
 
252 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 deep sleep, about three in the morning, out of pure exhaus- 
 tion. As for the two negroes, they slept the entire night 
 waiting our summons for their rallying to the work. Neb, 
 in particular, had all the absence of responsibility that dis- 
 tinguishes the existence of a slave, feeling very much the 
 same unconcern as to the movements of the vessel as any 
 other human being feels in connection with those of the 
 earth in which he is a passenger. 
 
 It was ten o'clock when I awoke, refreshed but disap- 
 pointed. Marble was still snoring in his berth, and I was 
 compelled to give him a call. I could perceive there was a 
 breeze, and that the ship was going through the water fast; 
 by her lurching, she was close-hauled. It takes a seaman 
 but a minute or two to throw on his loose attire, and no 
 time was lost on the present occasion. While my mate and 
 I were thus engaged, the former happened to cast a look out 
 of the cabin windows, which were open on account of the 
 warmth of the weather, and offered no obstruction to a long 
 view of the ocean directly in our wake. 
 
 "Halloo, Miles!" Marble exclaimed; "by Jove, we are 
 chased ! Such is the secret of Mr. Frog's being so much 
 alive this fine morning. Yonder comes a frigate, or my 
 name is not Oloff Marble." 
 
 A frigate there was, sure enough. She was about two 
 leagues astern of us, and resembled a pyramidal cloud mov- 
 ing along the water, so completely were her spars covered 
 with canvas. That she was an Englishman was more than 
 probable, from the cruising ground, as well as from the fact 
 of the prize crew running from her. In that day, no French 
 ship-of-war loitered long at any particular point, her enemies 
 being so numerous as to render pursuit certain ere many 
 hours could elapse. After determining these facts in our 
 minds. Marble and I went on deck. 
 
 My first look was ahead. To my deep regret, there lay 
 the land, actually within three leagues of us! The wind 
 was fresh at northeast, and Monsieur Le Gros appeared to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 253 
 
 be Steering for a group of islands that lay a little, and ever so 
 little, on our lee-bow. Brest was out of the question ; if we 
 could get in with the land, among these islands, it was as 
 much as we could do, before the racer astern would be up to us. 
 The Frenchmen were evidently alarmed; an English prison- 
 ship, with all its known horrors, being very vividly placed 
 before their eyes. Monsieur Le Gros screamed, and gave 
 twenty orders in a minute, while the other sixteen men made 
 more noise than would be heard among a thousand Ameri- 
 cans. Heavens! what a clamor those chaps kept up, and 
 all about nothing, too, the ship having every stitch of canvas 
 on her that would draw. I felt like the Arab who owned the 
 rarest mare in the desert, but who was coming up with the 
 thief who had stolen her, himself riding an inferior beast, and 
 all because the rogue did not understand the secret of making 
 the mare do her best. "Pinch her right ear, or I shall 
 overtake you," called out the Arab ; and more than twenty 
 times was I disposed to trim the Dawn's sails, and send Neb 
 to the wheel, in order to escape the disgrace of being over- 
 hauled by the frigate. There was a chance for me, how- 
 ever, in this second recapture, and I thought it preferable to 
 let things take their course. My new conquerors might be 
 mystified; whereas, there was little hope for us, should Mon- 
 sieur Le Gros get in after such an uproar. 
 
 In little more than an hour's time, the Dawn began to 
 shorten sail, hauling up her courses and topgallant-sails, 
 rocks showing themselves within half a mile of her. A 
 large boat met us here, coming alongside as soon as certain 
 who we were. The people in this boat were fishermen, and 
 were so much accustomed to all the movements of the coast, 
 that they understood the nature of the affair as soon as they 
 were apprised of our character. Of course, they were eagerly 
 questioned touching the possibility of the Dawn's being 
 carried in through ajiy of the rocky-looking passages that 
 lay before us. Monsieur Le Gros looked very blank when 
 he was told that all his hopes lay in there being sufficient 
 
254 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 water in one channel, and of that the fishermen confessed 
 their own ignorance. If the noise and confusion were an- 
 noying before these men came alongside, it was astounding 
 afterward. All this time the frigate was drawing near fast, 
 and half an hour would certainly bring her within gunshot. 
 There is something intoxicating in a race. I felt a strong 
 desire to get away from the Englishman at the very moment 
 I believed my chances for justice would be worst in the 
 hands of the French. Feeling the necessity of losing no 
 time, I now made a lively appeal to Moniseur Le Gros, my- 
 self, proposing that we should both go in with the fishing- 
 boat and examine the passage ourselves. By using proper 
 activity, the whole might be done in a quarter of an hour; 
 we should then know whether to carry the ship in, or to run 
 on the rocks and save what we could of the cargo, by means 
 of lighters. 
 
 Order on board ship is out of the question without cool- 
 ness, silence, and submission. A fussy sailor is always a 
 bad sailor; calmness and quiet being the great requisites 
 for the profession, after the general knowledge is obtained. 
 No really good officer ever makes a noise except when the 
 roar of the elements renders it indispensable, in order to be 
 heard. In that day, French ships-of-war did not understand 
 this important secret, much less French privateers. I can 
 only liken the clamor that was now going on in the Dawn's 
 lee-gangway to that which is raised by Dutch fisherwomen 
 on the arrival of the boats from sea with their cargoes. To 
 talk of Billingsgate in comparison with these women is to 
 do the Holland and Flemish ladies gross injustice, English 
 phlegm being far more silent than Dutch phlegm. No 
 sooner was my proposition made than it was accepted by 
 acclamation, and the privateersmen began to pour into the 
 boat, heels over head, without order, and I may say without 
 orders. Monsieur Le Gros was carried off in the current, 
 and, when the fishermen cast off, but three Frenchmen were 
 left in the ship; all the others had been swept away by a 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 255 
 
 zeal to be useful, and that was a little quickened, perhaps, 
 by the horrors of an English prison-ship. Even Diogenes 
 laughed at the random manner in which we were thus left 
 in possession of our own. There is no question that the 
 French intended to return, while there is no question it was 
 also their intention to go. In short, they were in a tumult, 
 and acted under an impulse instead of under the govern- 
 ment of their reasons. 
 
 " You will have the complaisance, Monsieur Wallingford," 
 cried Le Gros, as the boat started away from the ship's side, 
 ** to fill the topsail, and run for the passage, when we wave 
 our hats." 
 
 " Ay, ay," I answered ; *' leave it to me to fill the topsails, 
 and to give the John Bulls the slip." 
 
 This was said in French, and it drew cries of " Bon ! " 
 and of " Vive la France ! " from all in the boat. What the 
 fellows thought, I will not pretend to say; but if they 
 thought they were to get on board the Dawn again, they did 
 not know the men they left behind them. As for the French- 
 men who remained, Marble and I could have managed them 
 alone ; and I was glad they were with us, since they could 
 be made to pull and haul. The ship was under her three 
 topsails, spanker, and jib, when Monsieur Le Gros thus sin- 
 gularly gave her up to my control; the main-yard lying 
 square. My first step was to fill the topsail and gather way 
 on the vessel. This was soon done; and keeping away I 
 stood on toward the rocks, which soon bore on our weather- 
 bow, determined to run as near them as I dared, thinking to 
 frighten the Englishman so much, as to induce him to keep 
 at arm's length. I might cast away the ship, it is true ; but 
 even this would be preferable to falling again into English 
 hands, with all the occurrences still so recent. A year or 
 two later, the affair of the Speedy's men might be forgotten; 
 but while a thing is fresh there is always some danger of 
 its creating feeling. At* least, thus I reasoned, and thus I 
 acted. 
 
256 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Once more I had the Dawn under my own orders; and 
 could I keep the frigate out of gunshot, I cared very little 
 for Monsieur Le Gros. At first, the privateersmen supposed 
 that, in filling away, I merely intended to further their 
 views; but no sooner did they perceive the ship standing 
 on to leeward of the passage, than the truth seemed to flash 
 on their befogged faculties. This was not until the depth 
 of water was ascertained to be sufficient for their purpose ; 
 and such a flourishing of tarpaulins and greasy caps as suc- 
 ceeded, I had not witnessed for many a day. All these 
 signals and calls, however, were disregarded; but away went 
 the Dawn, with her yards just rounded in a point, with the 
 wind fairly abeam, coasting along as near the islands as I 
 thought it at all prudent to venture. As for the frigate, she 
 was still keeping her luff, in order to get far enough to 
 windward to make sure of her prey. At this moment, the 
 two ships might have been a league asunder. 
 
 Monsieur Le Gros was no sooner aware of the trick I had 
 played him, than out he dashed with his fishing-boat, mak- 
 ing sail in chase, and helping his dull craft along with half 
 a dozen oars. Seeing this, I let the foresail drop, and 
 sheeted home and hoisted the main-topgallant-sail ; not that 
 I felt at all afraid of the boat, but because it was my wish 
 to avoid bloodshed, if possible. Among the other absurdi- 
 ties the French had committed in their haste to get away 
 from the frigate was that of leaving six or eight muskets, 
 with several cartridge-boxes, behind them. With these 
 weapons it would have been easy for us to have given the 
 privateersmen such a hint as would not fail to keep them at 
 bay. Then I always had my pistols, which were not only 
 valuable implements, but were double-barrelled and well 
 loaded. Our only ground of alarm, therefore, came from 
 the Englishman. 
 
 Possibly Monsieur Le Gros thought differently, for his 
 chase was animated and apparently in earnest. But, not- 
 withstanding all his zeal, the Dawn left him astern, going 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 257 
 
 through the water at the rate of about six knots. But the 
 frigate was coming up at the rate of eight knots, making it 
 certain that she would get us under her guns in an hour or 
 two at most, unless some great advantage was obtained over 
 her by means of the complicated navigation and shallow 
 water. 
 
 When at Bordeaux, the previous year, I had purchased a 
 chart of the French coast, with a book containing directions 
 similar to those which are to be found in our own " Coast- 
 ing Pilot." As a matter of course, I had them both with me, 
 and I found them of great service on this occasion. The text 
 described the islands we were near as being separated by nar- 
 row channels of deep water, in which the danger was prin- 
 cipally owing to sunken rocks. It was these rocks that had 
 induced the fishermen to pronounce the passage imprac- 
 ticable; and my coasting directions cautioned all navigators 
 to be wary in approaching them. The Dawn, however, was 
 in precisely the situation which might render these rocks of 
 the last service to her ; and preferring shipwreck to seeing 
 my vessel in either English or French hands again, I de- 
 termined to trust to the very dangers of the navigation as 
 my safeguard. I might go clear of the bottom, but it was 
 certain, if I kept outside, I could not escape from the 
 frigate. An accidental occurrence, in connection with the 
 boat, favored us, and I was not slow to profit by the advan- 
 tage it offered. Finding it impossible to come up with the 
 ship by keeping in her wake. Monsieur Le Gros had taken 
 a short cut, in the boat, between some islets that we were 
 obliged to round, and he actually came out ahead of us. 
 Instead of endeavoring to close with the ship, however, he 
 led into an excessively narrow passage, making furious 
 gestures for us to follow. This was at the instant when the 
 frigate fired her first gun at us, the shot of which just fell a 
 very little short. Did we pass the channel in which Mon- 
 sieur Le Gros had carried the boat, we should fall to lee- 
 ward of the whole group of islands — or islets would be the 
 »7 
 
258 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 better word — when all would literally depend on our heels. 
 There was but a moment in which to decide; in another 
 minute, the ship would be past the opening, which could 
 only be regained by tacking, if it could be regained at all. 
 I gave the order to luff. 
 
 Our three Frenchmen, fancying themselves now certainly 
 bound to la belle France, were as active as cats. Neb and 
 Diogenes throwing their powerful force on the braces with 
 a good will, too, we soon had the Dawn braced sharp up, 
 heading well to windward of the passage. Monsieur Le 
 Gros was delighted. Apparently, he thought all was right 
 again; and he led the way, flourishing both hands, while 
 all in the boat, fishermen inclusive, were bawling, and 
 shouting, and gesticulating in a way that would certainly 
 have confused us, had I cared a straw about them. I 
 thought it well enough to follow the boat; but as for their 
 cries, they were disregarded. Had Monsieur Le Gros seen 
 fit to wait for the ship in the narrowest part of the inlet, he 
 might have embarrassed us; but, so far from this, he ap- 
 peared to be entirely carried away by the excitement of the 
 chase, and was as eager to push ahead as a boy who was 
 struggling to be first in at the goal. 
 
 It was a nervous instant when the Dawn's bow first entered 
 the narrow passage. The width, from rock to rock, speak- 
 ing only of visible things, might have been thirty fathoms; 
 and this strait narrowed, rather than widened, for several 
 hundred feet, until it was reduced fully one-third. The tide 
 ran like a milltail, and it was, perhaps, lucky for us that 
 there was no time for reflection or irresolution ; the aspect 
 of things being so serious as might well have thrown the 
 most decided man into uncertainty and doubt. The current 
 sucked the vessel in like the Maelstrom, and we were 
 whirling ahead at a rate that would have split the ship from 
 her keel to her top-timbers had we come upon a sunken 
 rock. The chances were about even; for I regarded the 
 pilotage as a very random sort of an affair. We glanced on 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 259 
 
 in breathless expectation, therefore, not knowing but each 
 instant would involve us in ruin. 
 
 This jeopardy endured about five minutes. At the end of 
 that brief space, the ship had run the gauntlet for the dis- 
 tance of a mile, driven onward by the current rather than 
 by the wind. So tremendous was our velocity in the nar- 
 rowest part, that I actually caught myself grasping the rail 
 of the ship, as we glanced past the rocks, as if to keep my- 
 self from a fall. The French gave a loud and general shout 
 just as the boat issued out of this race-way into a wide capa- 
 cious bay, within the group of islands, which had the ap- 
 pearance of forming a roadstead of some note. There was 
 a battery on the end of the last island, a lighthouse, and a 
 cluster of fishermen's huts; all indicating that the place 
 was one of considerable resort. 
 
 Monsieur Le Gros was waiting for us about two cables' 
 lengths from the place where we issued into the bay, having 
 considerately chosen an anchorage for us, at a point com- 
 manded by the four six-and-thirty pounders of the battery. 
 The distance enabled me to look about. Within the range 
 of islands was a sort of sound, quite a league in width, and 
 on this sound the main coast presented several bays in which 
 coasters were at anchor. Most of the prominent points had 
 small batteries, of no great force as against a fleet, or even 
 against a single heavy ship, but which were sufficiently for- 
 midable to keep a sloop-of-war or a frigate at a respectable 
 distance. As all the guns were heavy, a vessel passing 
 through the middle of this sound would hardly be safe, more 
 especially did the gunners do their duty. By anchoring at 
 the spot where the boat waited for us, we at once gave up 
 the ship to the privateersmen, the battery first mentioned 
 commanding that point completely. As good luck would 
 have it, however, an expedient offered, in the direction of 
 the wind and tide, which w^e opposed to each other, and I 
 availed myself of the circumstances as promptly as possible. 
 
 Do our best, the Dawn could not fetch the spot where the 
 
26o MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 boat had dropped her kedge. We passed within hail of it, 
 notwithstanding, and loud were the calls to us to shorten 
 sail and anchor, as we came within hearing. Affecting to 
 be anxious to get up to the precise point where the boat lay, 
 I mystified Monsieur Le Gros in my answers, telling him I 
 would stand on a short distance, or until I could fetch him, 
 when I would tack. As this was intelligible it satisfied my 
 captors, though a hundred ^^ n'importes" were yelled after 
 us, and " tCimporte " it was in fact, one spot being just as 
 good to anchor in as another, for half a league all round us. 
 
 The Dawn did her duty that day, and there was occasion 
 for it, the frigate still continuing the chase. The circuit she 
 had to make, and the berth she thought it prudent to give 
 the first battery, enabled us to gain on her materially. 
 When we passed the boat, the Englishman's upper sails were 
 visible on the outside of the island, flying along the rocks 
 at a rate that spoke well of his heels. He rounded the 
 point when we were midsound, but here the battery served 
 us a good turn, for, instead of hauling up close by the wind, 
 the English were obliged to run off with the wind free, to 
 keep out of harm's way. Their presence, notwithstanding, 
 was probably of great service to the Dawn, for there had 
 been a communication between Monsieur Le Gros and the 
 batteries, by means of a small boat sent from the latter, and 
 we should have been very likely to have a messenger, in the 
 shape of a shot, sent after us, when it was seen we continued 
 to stand across for the main instead of tacking for the 
 designated anchorage, had not the men in the battery had 
 the higher game of the frigate in view. As soon as John 
 Bull got within range, the gunners began to play on him, 
 but it was at a distance that rendered their fire next to 
 useless. 
 
 Any one in the least acquainted with the movements of 
 ships, will understand the advantage we now possessed. 
 The Dawn was beating through a good wide passage, with 
 a young flood breasting her to windward, and a steady six- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 26 1 
 
 knot breeze blowing. The passage between these islands 
 and the main was about four leagues long, while that which 
 the fishermen had wished us first to enter was near the 
 middle of the group. We were already a mile from the 
 boat, and considerably to windward of her, the tide having 
 done that much for us, when Monsieur Le Gros saw fit to 
 lift his kedge and commence a new pursuit. He had the 
 sagacity to see that we should soon be obliged to tack, on 
 account of the main coast, and to stand over toward the 
 island again ; accordingly, instead of following in our wake, 
 he profited by the set of the current, and pulled directly to 
 windward, with a view to cut us off. All this we very 
 plainly saw, but we cared very little for Monsieur Le Gros 
 and his boat. The ship could out-sail the last very easily, 
 in such a breeze, and it was always in our power to tack in 
 mid-channel, instead of crossing her, or coming near her 
 at all. The frigate gave me much more trouble. 
 
 The Englishman, as I afterward learned, was a French- 
 built ship, called the Fortunee, or as Jack termed her, now she 
 had got to be designated in the Anglo-Saxon dialect, the 
 Fortu«<f<f, which was liberally rendered into the vernacular 
 as the " Happy-Go-Lucky." She was an old ship, but an 
 exceedingly fast one, and her commander had rendered 
 himself famous by the manner in which he ventured about 
 on the French coast. This was the third time he had gone 
 through this very sound in spite of the batteries, and having 
 some experience in the windings and turnings, he was now 
 much better able to get along scatheless than on the two 
 former occasions. As soon as he thought himself at a safe 
 distance from the six-and-thirties, he hauled up, and made 
 five short stretches near the main, where he had much the 
 best of the tide and the whole strength of the breeze, and 
 where there was nothing to molest him, the usual roadstead 
 being under the island of course. 
 
 The first hour sufficed to let me understand there was no 
 chance of escaping the frigate; if we continued to beat up 
 
262 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 through the passage, we might reach its western end a little 
 in advance of her, it is true, but no hope at all of getting 
 away would remain when we again reached the open ocean, 
 and she inshore of us. In this dilemma, Marble made one 
 of his happy suggestions, my merit amounting to no more 
 than seizing the right moment, and carrying out his idea 
 with promptitude. The passage first named lay in a line 
 with us, and we had every reason to believe the ship could 
 go through it. When we were invited to enter, the tide 
 was not as high by six feet, as it had now risen to be, and 
 my mate suggested the expedient of trying it, in going out. 
 
 "The Englishman will never dare follow, on account of 
 the battery which lies on the side of it," he added, "whereas 
 the French will not fire at us, believing us to be escaping 
 from a common enemy." 
 
 The whole force of what had been said flashed upon me 
 in an instant. I set the tricolor over a British ensign, to 
 cause the people of this second battery to think us an Eng- 
 lish prize, and stood straight for the pass, just without 
 which lay a small brig at anchor. In order to make the 
 deception more complete, we hauled up our courses, and let 
 run the topgallant halyards, as if ready to bring up. Seeing 
 this. Monsieur Le Gros fancied we were about to anchor 
 under the battery, and that we had hoisted our flags to taunt 
 the English, for caps and hats were waved in exultation in 
 the boat, then distant from us a quarter of a mile. We 
 passed close to the brig, which greeted us with acclamations 
 and " vives la France ^^^ as we swept by her. My eye was on 
 the battery the whole time. It was built to command the 
 roadstead, and without any reference to the pass, which no 
 enemy would be apt to attempt. It is true, two heavy guns 
 bore on this entrance, but they were in a detached work 
 that was never manned except in emergencies. 
 
 I drew a long breath, and felt a mountain removed from 
 my very soul, as the ship passed out of the range of the last 
 gun in the little semicircle. The soldiers were making ges- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 263 
 
 tures to us to indicate we were getting too far west for a 
 good berth, but we heeded them not. Instead of shortening 
 sail, the fore and main-tacks were boarded, and the top-gal- 
 lant-sails set. This revealed our intention, and the clamor 
 on the shore even reached the ship. Preparations were 
 making to get a piece of light artillery to bear on us, and 
 some twenty gunners began to scamper toward the detached 
 battery. The whole thing was now reduced to a sheer race. 
 We passed the last battery ten minutes before the French 
 could reach it, the latter having to go round a considerable 
 bay; and six minutes later we went out to sea, with the 
 American ensign, and jacks, and pennants flying at each 
 mast-head, and wherever else such an emblem of triumph 
 could be shown ! 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 O, I am out of breath in this fond chase ! 
 The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. 
 
 Shakspeart. 
 
 Marble and I looked each other in the face, and then 
 burst into a laugh, as the French fired a single shot from 
 the two-gun battery, which flew beyond us, but which could 
 scarcely hit us on account of some intervening rocks. I 
 altered the course of the ship in order to get a little more 
 out of the range ; after this, we had nothing to fear from the 
 French. The boat did not attempt to follow us, and thus 
 ended our communication with Le Polisson and her people 
 at that time. As for La Fortunde, it would require at least 
 four hours for her to beat round the end of the cluster of 
 islands, and seeing the hopelessness of doing this in time 
 to overtake such a ship as the Dawn, her commander made 
 a dash in at the unfortunate brig, which he actually suc- 
 ceeded in cutting from the roadstead, in spite of all the de- 
 fences of the place. The last I heard of these gentlemen, 
 was the reports of the guns that were exchanged between 
 
264 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the battery and the frigate, while the last I saw of them, 
 was the smoke that floated over the spot, long after the 
 islands had sunk beneath the horizon. The Dawn stood 
 directly out to sea, with the wind still at the northward, 
 though it had drawn more through the pass in-shore. 
 
 " Well, Miles," cried Marble, as he and I sat eating our 
 dinner on deck, where Neb had been ordered to serve it, 
 " you know what I've always said of your luck. It's proof 
 agin everything but Providence! Die you must and will, 
 some of these times; but not until you've done something 
 remarkable. Sail with you, my boy ! I consider your com- 
 pany a standing policy of insurance, and have no sort of 
 consarn about fortin, while I'm under your orders. With 
 any other man, I should be nothing but a bloody hermit, 
 instead of the dutiful son and affectionate uncle I am. But 
 what do you mean to perform next? " 
 
 "I have been thinking, Moses, our best step will be to 
 shape our course for Hamburg, whither we are bound. This 
 northerly wind can't last long at this season, and another 
 southwester would just serve our turn. In ten days, or a 
 fortnight, we might make our haven." 
 
 " And then those French chaps that are attacking yonder 
 kid of pork, as if it were a wild beast; the fellows never 
 saw good solid food before! " 
 
 . " Feed them well — treat them well — and make them work. 
 They would never think of troubling us; nor do I suppose 
 they know anything of navigation. I see they smoke and 
 chew; we will give 'em as much tobacco as their hearts can 
 wish, or their mouths hold; and this will keep them in 
 good-humor." 
 
 "And John Bull.?" 
 
 " Why, John is another sort of a person to deal with, cer- 
 tainly. I am not sure that a third English cruiser would 
 molest us. We can keep our own secret concerning Sennit 
 and his party; and we may not meet with another, after all. 
 My plan is to run close in with the English coast, and show 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 26$ 
 
 our colors boldly ; now, nine in ten of the British men-of- 
 war will let us pass unquestioned, believing we are bound 
 to London, unless they happen to have one of those press- 
 ing gentry, like Sennit, on board. I have often been told 
 that ships which pass close in with the English coast gen- 
 erally pass unquestioned; by the large craft, uniformly; 
 though they may have something to apprehend from the 
 brigs and cutters. Your small fry always give the most 
 trouble, Moses." 
 
 "We have not found it so this v'y'ge, Miles. However, 
 you're not only captain, but you're owner ; and I leave you 
 to paddle your own canoe. We must go somewhere ; and 
 I will not say your plan is not as good as any I can start, 
 with thirty years more of experience.'' 
 
 We talked the matter over, canvassing it in all its bear- 
 ings, until it was settled to adopt it. 
 
 The ship was steered large, until the French coast was 
 entirely sunk; and then we trimmed her by the wind, head- 
 ing her as near to our course as the breeze would permit. 
 Nothing occurred in the course of the remainder of the day 
 to produce either trouble or uneasiness, though my three 
 Frenchmen came to certain explanations with me, that at 
 first menaced a little difficulty. They refused to work ; and 
 I was compelled to tell them I should put them on board 
 the first English vessel-of-war we met. This had the de- 
 sired effect; and, after an amicable discussion, I agreed to 
 pay them high wages on our arrival in a friendly port: and 
 they agreed to serve me as well as they knew how. Seven 
 men were rather less than half a crew for a vessel of the 
 Dawn's size, but it was possible to get along with that 
 number. The steering was the hardest part of the duty— 
 neither of the Frenchmen being able to take his trick at the 
 helm. We got along with the necessary work, however; 
 and so glad were we aU to be rid of both English and 
 French, that I hazard little in saying that, we would have 
 endured twice as much, cheerfully, could we be certain of 
 
266 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 meeting no more of their cruisers. Providence had ordered 
 matters very differently. 
 
 That night the wind shifted again to the southward and 
 westward. We braced in the yards, and brought the ship 
 to her course; but I thought it best not to carry sail hard in 
 the dark. Accordingly, I left orders to be called at sunrise, 
 Marble having the watch at that hour. When I came on 
 deck, in consequence of this summons, I found my mate ex- 
 amining the horizon with some earnestness, as if he were 
 looking for strangers. 
 
 " We are a merry party this morning. Captain Walling- 
 ford," Marble cried out, as soon as he saw me. " I have 
 found no less than six sail in sight, since the day dawned." 
 
 " I hope that neither is a lugger. I feel more afraid of 
 this Polisson, just now, than of all the names in Christen- 
 dom. That fellow must be cruising in the chops of the 
 Channel, and we are working our way well in toward that 
 part of the world." 
 
 "I hope so too, sir; but this chap out here at northwest 
 has a suspicious, lugger-like look. It may be that I see only 
 the heads of his topsails, but they are amazingly like luggs!" 
 
 I now took a survey of the ocean for myself. The vessel 
 Marble distrusted, I unhesitatingly pronounced to be a lug- 
 ger : quite as likely the Polisson as any other craft. The 
 other four vessels were all ships, the five forming a complete 
 circle, of which the Dawn was in the centre. The lugger, 
 however, was some miles the nearest to us, while as to the 
 strangers, if they saw each other across the diameter of the 
 circle at all, it was as much as was possible. Under the 
 circumstances, it struck me our wisest way was to keep 
 steadily on our course, like honest people. Marble was of 
 the same opinion, and to say the truth, there was little 
 choice in the matter, the ship being so completely sur- 
 rounded. The worst feature of the case was our position, 
 which would be certain to draw all the cruisers to the 
 centre, and consequently to ourselves. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 26/ 
 
 Two hours produced a material change. All five of the 
 strangers had closed in upon us, and we were now able to 
 form tolerably accurate notions of their characters. The 
 two astern, one on our larboard, and one on our starboard 
 quarter, were clearly heavy vessels and consorts, though of 
 what nation it was not yet so easy to decide. That they 
 were consorts was apparent by their signalling one another, 
 and by the manner in which they were closing; as they car- 
 ried studding-sails, alow and aloft, they were coming up 
 with us fast, and in all probability would be alongside in 
 two or three hours more. 
 
 Two of the ships ahead struck me as frigates, having 
 their broadsides exposed to us; we had raised one line of 
 ports, but it was possible they might turn out to be two- 
 deckers; ships-of-war they were, beyond all question, and I 
 fancied them English from the squareness of their upper 
 sails. They, too, were consorts, making signals to each 
 other, and closing fast on opposite tacks. The lugger was 
 no longer equivocal; it was the Polisson, and she was 
 standing directly for us, though it was ticklish business, 
 since the remaining ship, a corvette, as I fancied, was 
 already in her wake, carrying sail hard, going like a witch, 
 and only about two leagues astern. 
 
 Monsieur Gallois had so much confidence in his heels, 
 that he stood on, regardless of his pursuer. I thought it 
 best to put a bold face on the matter, knowing that sufficient 
 time might be wasted to enable the sloop-of-war to get near 
 enough to prevent the privateer from again manning us. 
 My principal apprehension was, that he might carry us all 
 off, in revenge for what had happened, and set fire to the 
 ship. Against either of these steps, however, I should offer 
 all the resistance in my power. 
 
 It was just ten o'clock when the Polisson ranged up 
 abeam of us the second <ime, and we hove-to. It was evi- 
 dent the French recognized us, and the clamor that suc- 
 ceeded must have resembled that of Babel, when the people 
 
268 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 began first to converse without making themselves under- 
 stood. Knowing we had no small boat, Monsieur Gallois 
 lost no time, but lowering a yawl of his own, he came along- 
 side of us in person. As I had commanded the three 
 Frenchmen to remain below, he found no one on deck but 
 Marble, Diogenes, Neb, and myself. 
 
 ^^ Parbleu^ Monsieur Vallingfort ! " exclaimed the priva- 
 teersman, saluting me very civilly, notwithstanding ap- 
 pearances — ^^ dest bien extraordinaire!^^ Vat you do vid me 
 men ? — eh ! Put em in ze zea, comme avec les Anglais? " 
 
 I was spared the necessity of any explanation, by the 
 sudden appearance of my own three prisoners, who disre- 
 garded my orders, and came rushing up to their proper com- 
 mander, open-mouthed and filled with zeal to relate all that 
 had passed. The whole three broke out at once, and a 
 scene that was sufficiently ludicrous followed. It was a 
 continued volley of words, exclamations, oaths, and compli- 
 ments to the American character, so blended, as to render it 
 out of the question that Monsieur Gallois could understand 
 them. The latter found himself obliged to appeal to me. 
 I gave a very frank account of the whole affair, in English ; 
 a language that my captor understood much better than he 
 spoke. 
 
 Monsieur Gallois had the rapacity of a highwayman, but 
 it was singularly blended with French politeness. He had 
 not always been a privateersman — a calling that implies an 
 undue love of gold; and he was quite capable of distin- 
 guishing between right and wrong in matters in which his 
 own pocket had no direct concern. As soon as he compre- 
 hended the affair, he began to laugh, and to cry ^^ Bonf" I 
 saw he was in a good humor, and not likely to resent what 
 had happened; and I finished my history in somewhat sar- 
 castic language, portraying Monsieur Le Gros's com- 
 plaisance in quitting the ship and in piloting her about the 
 bay, a little dryly, perhaps. There were sundry " sacr-r-r-ks " 
 and " bHes " uttered the while ; but all came out freely and 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 269 
 
 without anger, as if Monsieur Gallois thought a good joke 
 the next thing to a good prize. 
 
 " Tenez^ mon amif^^ he cried, squeezing my hand, as he 
 looked round at the corvette, now less than a league distant. 
 " You are vat you Anglais call good fellow. J^ admire voire 
 esprit! You have escape admirablement^ and I shall have 
 vifs regrets not to 'ave opportunity to cultiver votre connaissance. 
 MaiSy I most laafs — mille pardons — you have non too much 
 peep's, mais c^est impossible d^abandonner mes compatriots, 
 Allons^ mes en/ants ; au canotT 
 
 This was the signal for the French to quit us; the three 
 men I had shipped taking their departure without ceremony. 
 Monsieur Gallois was the last in the boat, of course; and 
 he found time to squeeze my hand once more, and to renew 
 his " vifs regrets " at not having more leisure to cultivate my 
 acquaintance. The corvette was already so near as to ren- 
 der it necessary for the Polisson to be in motion; another 
 time, perhaps, we might be more fortunate. 
 
 In this manner did I part from a man who had not 
 scrupled to seize me in distress, as he would a waif on a 
 beach. By manning me, the prize crew would have fallen 
 into the hands of the enemy ; and making a merit of neces- 
 sity. Monsieur Gallois was disposed to be civil to those 
 whom he could not rob. Odd as it may seem, I felt the in- 
 fluence of his manner to a degree that almost reconciled 
 me to the act before committed, although the last was just 
 as profligate and illegal as any that could well be committed. 
 Of so much more importance, with the majority of men, is 
 manner than matter; a very limited few alone knowing how 
 to give to the last its just ascendency. 
 
 The Polisson was not long in gathering way, after her 
 boat was hoisted in. She passed, on the crest of a wave, 
 so near, that it was easy to distinguish the expressions of 
 her people's faces, few of which discovered the equanimity 
 of that of their commander's; and to hear the incessant gab- 
 bling that was kept up on board her day and night, from 
 
270 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "morn till dewy eve." M. Gallois bowed complaisantly, 
 and he smiled as amiably as if he never had put a hand in 
 another man's pocket ; but his glass was immediately turned 
 toward the corvette, which now began to give him some 
 little uneasiness. Manning us, indeed, with that fellow 
 surging ahead at the rate he was, would have been quite out 
 of the question. 
 
 Being reduced to our old number of four, I saw no use in 
 working ourselves to death, by filling the topsail, with the 
 certainty the sloop-of-war would make us round-to again. 
 The Dawn, therefore, remained stationary, waiting the issue 
 with philosophical patience. 
 
 "There is no use, Moses, in endeavoring to escape," I 
 remarked; " we are not strong-handed enough to get sail on 
 the ship before the fellow will be up with us." 
 
 "Ay, and there goes his bunting, and a gun," answered 
 the mate. "The white English ensign, a sign the chap is 
 under some admiral, or vice, or rear of the white, while, if 
 I mistake not, the two frigates show blue flags — if so, 'tis a 
 sign they're not consorts." 
 
 The glass confirmed this, and we were left to suppose 
 that all three Englishmen did not belong to the same 
 squadron. At this moment, the state of the game was as 
 follows: the Dawn was lying-to, with her fore-course up, 
 mainsail furled, main-topsail aback, and topgallant-yards 
 on the caps, jib and spanker both set. The Polisson was 
 flying away on the crests of the seas, close-hauled, evidently 
 disposed to make a lee behind the two frigates to windward, 
 which we took for, and which it is probable she knew to be 
 French. The ships to leeward were passing each other 
 within hail ; the one to the eastward tacking immediately 
 after, and coming up in her consort's wake; both vessels 
 carrying everything that would draw. The ships to the 
 southward, or the supposed Frenchmen, might then have 
 been two leagues from us, while those to leeward were three. 
 As for the corvette, her course seemed to lie directly be- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2/1 
 
 tween our masts. On she came with everything beautifully 
 trimmed, the water spouting from her hawse-holes, as she 
 rose from a plunge, and foaming under her bows, as if made 
 of a cloud. Her distance from us was less than a mile. 
 
 It was now that the corvette made signals to the ships to 
 windward. They were answered, but in a way to show the 
 parties did not understand each other. She then tried her 
 hand with the vessels to leeward, and, notwithstanding the 
 distance, she succeeded better. I could see these two 
 frigates, or rather the one that led, sending questions and 
 answers to the corvette, although my best glass would hardly 
 enable me to distinguish their ensigns. I presume that the 
 corvette asked the names of the English vessels, communi- 
 cated her own, and let the fact be known that the ships to 
 windward were enemies. 
 
 A few minutes later our affairs, as they were connected 
 with the sloop-of-war, came to a crisis. This ship now came 
 on close under our lee, losing a little of her way in passing, 
 an expedient probably thought of to give her a little more 
 time to put her questions, and to receive the desired answers. 
 I observed, also, that she let go all her bowlines, which 
 seemed much to deaden her way, of which there still re- 
 mained sufficient, notwithstanding, to carry her well clear of 
 us. The following dialogue then passed, the Englishman 
 asking the questions, of course, that being a privilege ex- 
 pressly appropriated to the public vessel on occasions of 
 this sort: 
 
 "What ship's that?— and whither bound? " 
 "Dawn, of New York, Miles Wallingford, from home to 
 Hamburg." 
 
 " Did not the lugger board you ? " 
 " Ay, ay — for the second time in three days." 
 "What is she called? — and what is her force? " 
 "Le Polisson, of Brest — sixteen light guns, and about a 
 hundred men." 
 
 " Do you know anything of the ships to windward? " 
 
272 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " Nothing at all ; but I suppose them to be French.' 
 " Pray, sir, why do you sup — um — um — ook — ook — 
 
 The distance prevented my hearing more. Away went 
 the sloop, steadying her bowlines; the call piping belay, as 
 each sail was trimmed to the officer of the deck's fancy. In 
 a few more minutes, we could not distinguish even the shrill 
 notes of that instrument. The corvette continued on in 
 chase of the lugger, regardless of the four other vessels, 
 though the two to windward now showed the tricolor^ and 
 fired guns of defiance. 
 
 Monsieur Gallois soon after tacked, evidently disposed 
 to stand for the frigates of his country ; when the sloop-of- 
 war immediately went round, also, heading up toward these 
 very vessels, determined to cut off the lugger, even if it 
 were to be done by venturing within range of the shot of 
 her protectors. It was a bold manoeuvre, and deserved suc- 
 cess, if it were only for its spirit and daring. 
 
 I thought, however, that the frigates of the tricolor paid 
 very little attention to the lugger. By altering their course 
 a trifle, it would have been in their power to cover her com- 
 pletely from the attempts of the corvette; but, instead of 
 doing this, they rather deviated a little the other way, as if 
 desirous of approaching the two ships to leeward on the 
 side that would prevent their being cut off from the land. 
 As neither party seemed disposed to take any notice of us, 
 we filled our topsail and stood out of the circle under easy 
 canvas, believing it bad policy to have an appearance of 
 haste. Haste, however, was a thing out of our power, it re- 
 quiring time for four men to make sail. 
 
 About eleven, or half -past eleven, the four frigates were 
 distant from each other rather more than a league, the Dawn 
 being just then half a league from the two Frenchmen and 
 rather more distant from the English. Had an action then 
 commenced, we might have been a mile out of the line of 
 fire. Curious to know the result, I stood on a short dis- 
 tance further, and backed my topsail, to await the issue. I 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2/3 
 
 was influenced to take this course from an expectation that 
 either party, after a conflict with an equal, would be less 
 disposed to molest a neutral, and that I might possibly ob- 
 tain assistance from the conqueror — few cruisers being 
 found at that day without having foreigners on board, that 
 they would be willing to give to a vessel in distress. As 
 for the account I meant to give to the party to whom I in- 
 tended to apply, it would depend on circumstances. If the 
 French remained on the spot, I could relate the affair with 
 the prize crew of the Speedy; if the English, that of the 
 Polisson. In neither case would an untruth be told, though 
 certain collateral facts might be, and probably would have 
 been, suppressed. 
 
 The Frenchmen began to haul down their light sails, just 
 as we hove-to. This was done in a lubberly and irregular 
 manner, as if little concert or order prevailed on board 
 them. Marble growled out his remarks, deeming the whole 
 proceeding a bad omen for the tricolor. It is certain that 
 the Frencn marine, in 1803, was not a service to boast of. 
 The English used to say that they seldom got a French ship 
 without working for her; and this was probably true, as the 
 nation is warlike, and little disposed to submit without an 
 effort. Still, France, at that day, could hardly be said to be 
 maritime; and the revolutions and changes she had under- 
 gone were not likely to favor the creation of a good corps 
 of naval officers. Brave men were far more plenty than 
 skilful seamen; and then came the gabbling propensity, 
 one of the worst of all human failings, to assist in produc- 
 ing a disorderly ship. 
 
 It was a pretty sight to see those four shipsN strip for the 
 fight; although the French canvas did not come do^/vn ex- 
 actly according to rule. The English, however, were in no 
 hurry ; the two tricolor men being under their three topsails, 
 spankers, and jibs, with the topgallant-sails clewed up, 
 before John Bull reducecf even a royal. The latter, it will 
 be remembered, were to leeward, and had to close with their 
 18 
 
2/4 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 adversaries. In doing this, they made one stretch so far in 
 our direction, in the hope of tacking in their enemies' 
 wakes, that I saw they would probably speak us. I con- 
 fess this was more than I had bargained for ; but it was 
 now too late to run, which would probably have led to our 
 seizure. I determined, therefore, to await the result with 
 dignity. 
 
 Just as the English ships were coming within musket-shot 
 of the Dawn, the French — then distant about a mile and a 
 half to the eastward, and half a mile south of us — wore ship, 
 and came round with their heads to the westward — or in 
 our direction. As this was coming nearer, instead of mov- 
 ing from them, the Englishmen began to start their tacks 
 and sheets, in order to be ready. Their six royals were all 
 flying at the same instant, as were their flying-jibs; at the 
 next, the canvas was rolled up, and out of sight. Then 
 the yards, themselves, came down, and all the light sails 
 about the ships vanished as a bird shuts its wings. After 
 this the courses were hauled up snug, but the sails were not 
 handed. By this time, the leading ship of these two frigates 
 was within a cable's length of us, just luffing up sufficiently 
 to give our weather-quarter the necessary berth. 
 
 " By George, Miles," Marble said, as he stood at my side, 
 watching the movements of the stranger, " that second frigate 
 is the Speedy! I know her by the billet, and the distance 
 of her bridle-port from her head. You never saw such a 
 space for anchors before ! Then you may see she is a six- 
 and- thirty, with white hammock-cloths. Who ever saw that 
 twice at sea ? " 
 
 Marble was right! There came the Speedy, sure enough; 
 and doubtless the eyes of Lord Harry Dermond and his offi- 
 cers would be on us, in a very few more minutes— the dis- 
 tance between the two frigates being less than two cables' 
 lengths. In the mean time, I had to attend to the headmost 
 vessel. 
 
 " Can you tell me anything of the two ships to the south- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2^$ 
 
 ward of us ? " demanded the stranger, through his trumpet, 
 without any preamble. 
 
 " Nothing but what you see, sir. I suppose them to be 
 French ; and see that they are coming after you." 
 
 " AJter us ! " exclaimed the English captain, in a voice 
 loud enough, and now near enough, to be heard without the 
 aid of the trumpet. ^^ After us, indeed! Ready about — 
 helms a-lee — main-topsail haul, there! Hawl, of all " 
 
 These orders came out at brief intervals, and in a voice 
 of thunder, producing prompt obedience. The consequence 
 was that this ship tacked directly on our weather-beam, and 
 so near us that one might have thrown a biscuit aboard her. 
 But she went round beautifully, scarce losing her way at all, 
 and away she started again, looking her enemies directly in 
 the face. 
 
 "Now's our time to fill, Miles, and draw ahead. The 
 Speedy will think we've been spoken, and all's right. She 
 must corne here to tack into her consort's wake, and a blind 
 man could not avoid reading our name, she would be so 
 close. Man the lee-braces, and right the helm. Neb." 
 
 Fill we did, and what is more, we put our helm up so 
 much as to leave quite a cable's length between us and the 
 Speedy, when that ship got far enough ahead to tack, or at 
 the point which we had just left. I believe we were recog- 
 nized! Indeed, it is not easy to imagine otherwise, as the 
 commonest glass would enable the dullest eyes to read our 
 name, were other means of recognition wanting. But a 
 sailor knows a ship by too many signs to be easily deceived. 
 
 The Speedy was in stays when we saw the proofs of our 
 being known. Her head-yards were not swung, but there 
 she lay like one who lingers, uncertain whether to go or to 
 remain. An officer was in her gangway examining us with 
 a glass, and when the ship fell off so much as to bring us 
 out of the range of sigfat, he ran off and reappeared on the 
 taffrail. This was the junior lieutenant; I could plainly 
 recognize him with my own glass. Others soon joined 
 
2/6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 him, and among them was Lord Harry Dermond himself. 
 I fancied they even knew me, and that all their glasses were 
 levelled directly at my face. What a moment of intense 
 uncertainty was that! The ships were not a quarter of a 
 mile apart, though the Dawn was increasing that distance 
 fast, and by paying broad off the Speedy would have me 
 under her broadside. Where was her prize crew? Not in 
 the Dawn, or certainly Sennit would have communicated 
 with his commander, and if not in the ship they must be in 
 the ocean! Or, were they prisoners below, and kept pur- 
 posely out of sight? All these thoughts must have passed 
 through the minds of the English officers. 
 
 I thought we were lost again, but Providence once more 
 saved us. All this time the leading English frigate and the 
 two Frenchmen were fast approaching each other. In a few 
 minutes they must engage, while the Speedy was left 
 farther and farther astern of her consort. At this critical 
 instant, one of the Frenchmen fired a gun of defiance. 
 That report seemed to arouse the Speedy as from a trance. 
 Her head-yards came furiously round, all the officers van- 
 ished from her taffrail, and down went both fore and main- 
 tacks, and to the mast-head rose all three of her topgallant- 
 sails. Thus additionally impelled, the lively craft dashed 
 ahead, and was soon in her allotted berth, or half a cable's 
 length astern of the Black Prince, as I afterward heard was the 
 name of the commanding English ship, on this occasion. I 
 may as well add here, that the French commodore's ship 
 was named La D^sir^e, and her consort Le Cerf. Monsieur 
 Menneval was senior officer of the French and Sir Hotham 
 Ward of the English. I never knew the name of the other 
 French captain, or if I did I have forgotten it. 
 
 My object had been, in bearing up, to get as far as pos- 
 sible from the Speedy, in order that she might not recognize 
 us, and especially that she might not read the name on our 
 stern. But this running off so much to leeward was not 
 precisely the berth that one would wish to occupy when a 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 277 
 
 sea-fight is going on directly to windward, and within half 
 gunshot. No sooner was my Lord Harry Dermond in 
 motion again, therefore, than we hauled the Dawn up with 
 her head to the westward, with a view to get as soon as 
 possible out of the probable range of the fire. It was true, 
 the combatants might vary their manoeuvres, so as to render 
 all parts of the periphery of a certain circle around them 
 anything but agreeable, but the chances were greatly in 
 favor of the battle's beginning with one party to windward 
 of the other. 
 
 Our ship behaved well on this occasion, getting out of 
 the way with sufficient rapidity. While this was in the 
 course of execution, I had an opportunity to look after the 
 corvette and the lugger. The last was still leading, having 
 managed by means of short tacks to work up considerably 
 to windward of the two French frigates. Here she had made 
 a last tack to the eastward, intending to run for the coast. 
 The sloop-of-war was still in her wake, and was following 
 on her heels at a rapid rate. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " You and I have 
 
 known, sir." 
 
 " At sea, I think." 
 
 "We have, sir." 
 
 " You have done well by water." 
 
 " And you by land." 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 The reader will understand that I offer to his view a 
 shifting panorama. As soon as the Dawn had got about a 
 mile and a half from the English frigates, a distance that 
 was a little increased by the advance of the last toward 
 their enemies, we again backed our topsails, for I had an 
 ungovernable desire to lae a spectator of what was to follow. 
 The feeling was common to all four of us, it being next to 
 impossible to get either Neb or Diogenes to pull a rope, for 
 
278 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 gazing at the frigates. As for steering, it would have been 
 out of the question, I really believe, as no one among us 
 could keep his eyes long enough from the combatants to 
 look after our own ship. 
 
 Some persons may think it was foolish not to make the 
 most of our time in endeavoring to get as far as possible 
 from the Speedy. Perhaps it was; but, two miles distant, 
 there was really less to apprehend than might at first appear. 
 It was not probable the English would abandon the French 
 vessels as long as they could stick by them, or, until they 
 were captured; and I was not so completely ignorant of my 
 trade as to imagine that vessels like those of la Grande 
 Nation^ which were in sight, were to be taken without doing 
 their adversaries a good deal of harm. Then, the prizes 
 themselves would require looking after, and there were many 
 other chances of our now going scot-free, while there was 
 really very small ground of danger. But, putting aside all 
 these considerations, curiosity and interest were so active 
 in us all, as to render it almost morally impossible we 
 should quit the place until the battle was decided. I am 
 not absolutely certain the Dawn would have moved, had 
 we been disposed to make her. With these brief explana- 
 tions, then, we will turn our attention exclusively to the 
 frigates. 
 
 By the time we had got the Dawn just where we wished 
 her to be, the combatants were drawing quite near to each 
 other. The Speedy had carried sail so long as to be a 
 little to windward of her consort's wake, though half a 
 cable's length astern of her. The French were in still 
 closer order, and they would soon be far enough advanced 
 to bring the leading ship on each side, under fire. I sup- 
 pose the opposing vessels would pass about a cable's length 
 apart. All four were under their topsails, jibs, and spankers, 
 with the courses in the brails. The Black Prince and the 
 Speedy had their topgallant-saijs clewed up, while la 
 D^sir^e and le Cerf had theirs still sheeted home, with the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 2/9 
 
 yards on the caps. All four vessels had sent down royal 
 yards. This was fighting sail, and everything indicated 
 that Monsieur Menneval intended to make a day of it. 
 
 The first gun was fired, on this occasion, from the 
 D^siree, the leading French ship. It was directed at the 
 Black Prince, and the shot probably told, as Sir Hotham 
 Ward immediately kept away, evidently with a desire to 
 escape being raked. The French did the same to keep 
 square with their adversaries, and the four vessels now ran 
 on parallel lines, though going different ways, and a short 
 cable's length asunder. La D^siree followed up her single 
 gun with each division as it would bear, until her whole 
 broadside was delivered. The Black Prince stood it all 
 without answering, though I could see that she was suffering 
 considerably, more especially aloft. At length Sir Hotham 
 Ward was heard in the affair. He let fly his whole broad- 
 side, almost simultaneously; and a spiteful, threatening 
 roar it was. The smoke now began to hide his ship, though 
 la D^sir^e, by moving toward us, kept ahead of her own 
 sulphurous canopy. 
 
 The Speedy soon opened on the French commodore; 
 then, by the roar astern, I knew le Cerf was at work in the 
 smoke. All four ships shivered their topsails, to pass more 
 slowly; and there was a minute during which, as it ap- 
 peared to me, all four actually stopped under the fiery cloud 
 they had raised, in order to do each other all the harm they 
 could. The Frenchmen, however, soon issued from behind 
 the curtain, and the cessation in the firing announced that 
 the ships had parted. I could not see much of the English, 
 at first, on account of the smoke; but their antagonists 
 came out of the fray, short as it had been, with torn sails, 
 crippled yards, and le Cerf had her mizzen-topmast actually 
 hanging over to leeward. Just as I got a view of this 
 calamity, I caught a giimpse of the Black Prince, close 
 hauled, luffing up athwart the wake of her enemies, and 
 manifestly menacing to get the wind. The Speedy followed 
 
280 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 with the accuracy of clockwork, having rather closed with 
 her leader, instead of falling farther behind. Presently, the 
 Black Prince tacked; but, in so doing, down came her 
 main-topgallant-mast, bringing with it the yard and the sail, 
 as a matter of course. This was a sign that Mr. Menneval 
 had not been firing a salute. 
 
 The French stood on, after this first rude essay with their 
 enemies, for several minutes, during which time we could 
 see their people actively, but irregularly, employed, in clear- 
 ing away the wrecks, stoppering rigging, and otherwise re- 
 pairing damages. Le Cerf, in particular, was much troubled 
 with the topmast that was dangling over her lee-quarter; 
 and her people made desperate and tolerably well-directed 
 efforts to get rid of it. This they effected; and about ten 
 minutes after the firing had ceased, the French ships put 
 their helms up, and went off to the northward, dead before 
 the wind, as if inviting their enemies to come on and fight 
 it out fairly in that manner, if they felt disposed to pursue 
 the affair any farther. 
 
 It was time something of this sort was done, for the delay 
 had brought all four vessels so far to the westward, as to 
 leave them within a mile of the Dawn; and I saw the neces- 
 sity of again getting out of the way. We filled and stood 
 off, as fast as possible. It was time something of the sort 
 was done, in another sense, also. When Monsieur Menneval 
 bore up, his antagonists were closing fast on his weather- 
 quarter, and unless he meant to fight to leeward, it was in- 
 cumbent on him to get out of the way, in his turn. 
 
 Sir Hotham Ward, however, was too skilful a seaman to 
 neglect the advantage Monsieur Menneval had given him. 
 The instant the French kept away, he did the same; but, 
 instead of falling broad off before the wind, he luffed again 
 in time, not having touched a brace, and crossed the wakes 
 of his enemies, giving a most effective broadside into the 
 cabin windows of le Cerf. To my surprise, la Desir^e held 
 on her course, until the Speedy had repeated the dose. The 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 28 1 
 
 English then wore short round, and were seemingly on the 
 point of going over the same thing, when Monsieur Menne- 
 val, finding this a losing game, hauled up, firing as his guns 
 bore, and le Cerf did the same, with her head the other way, 
 destroying everything like concert in their movements. The 
 English closed, and, in a minute, all four of the ships were 
 enveloped in a common cloud of white smoke. All we could 
 now see, were the masts, from the trucks down, sometimes 
 as low as the tops, but oftener not lower than the topsail- 
 yards. The reports of the guns were quite rapid for a quar- 
 ter of an hour, after which they became much less frequent, 
 though a hundred pieces of ordnance were still at work be- 
 hind that cloudy screen. 
 
 Several shot flew in our direction; and two actually 
 passed between our masts. Notwithstanding, so keen was 
 the interest we continued to feel, that the topsail was again 
 backed, and there we lay, lookers-on, as indifferent to the 
 risks we ran, as if we had been ashore. Minute passed 
 after minute, until a considerable period had been con- 
 sumed ; yet neither of the combatants became fairly visibly 
 to us. Occasionally a part of a hull pushed itself out of 
 the smoke, or the wind blew the latter aside; but at no 
 time was the curtain sufficiently drawn, to enable us to tell 
 to which nation the vessel thus seen belonged. The masts 
 had disappeared — not one remaining above the smoke, which 
 had greatly enlarged its circle, however. 
 
 In this manner passed an hour. It was one of the most 
 intensely interesting of my whole life; and to me it seemed 
 a day, so eager was I to ascertain some result. I had been 
 several times in action, as the reader knows; but, then, the 
 minutes flew : whereas, now, this combat appeared drawn out 
 to an interminable length. I have said, an hour thus passed 
 before we could even guess at the probable result. At the 
 end of that time the firing entirely ceased. It had been 
 growing slacker and sfacker for the last half hour, but it 
 now stopped altogether. The smoke which appeared to be 
 
282 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 packed on the ocean, began to rise and disperse; and, little 
 by little, the veil rose from before that scene of strife. 
 
 The vessel first seen by us was our old acquaintance, the 
 Speedy. All three of her topmasts were gone; the fore, just 
 below the cross-trees; and the two others near the lower 
 caps. Her main-yard had lost one yard-arm, and her lower 
 rigging and sides were covered with wreck. She had her 
 foresail, mizzen, and fore-staysail, and spanker set, which 
 was nearly all the canvas she could show. 
 
 Our eyes had barely time to examine the Speedy, ere the 
 dark hull of le Cerf made its appearance. This ship had 
 been very roughly treated, nothing standing on board her, 
 twenty feet from the deck, but her foremast; and the head 
 of that was gone, nearly down to the top. The sea all 
 round her was covered with wreck ; and no less than three 
 of her boats were out, picking up men who were adrift on 
 the spars. She lay about a cable's length from the Speedy, 
 and appeared to be desirous of being still farther off, as she 
 had no sooner got her boats up, than she dropped her fore- 
 sail, and stood off dead before it. 
 
 It was in watching the movements of le Cerf, that we first 
 got a glimpse of la Ddsiree. This ship reappeared almost 
 in a line with her consort; and, like her, steering off before 
 the wind. Their common object seemed to be, to get within 
 close supporting distance of each other, and to increase the 
 space between them and their enemies. Both these vessels 
 had the tricolored flag flying at the stumps of their masts. 
 As respects the last, however, la Ddsiree was a little better 
 off than her consort — having her foremost and mainmast 
 standing entire, though her mizzenmast was gone, close to 
 the deck. What was a very bad affair for her, her fore-yard 
 had been shot away in the slings, the two inner ends lying 
 on the forecastle, while the yard-arms were loosely sustained 
 by the lifts. This ship kept off under her mainsail and 
 fore-staysail. 
 
 The Black Prince was the last to get clear of the smoke. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 283 
 
 She had everything in its place, from her topmast cross- 
 trees down. The three topgallant-masts were gone, and the 
 wrecks were already cleared; but all the topsail-yards were 
 on the caps, and her rigging, spars, and tops were alive with 
 men ; as indeed were those of the Speedy. This was the 
 secret of the cessation in the action; the two English 
 frigates having turned their hands up to secure their spars, 
 while the Frenchmen, by running off dead before the wind, 
 were in positions not to bring a broadside gun to bear; and 
 the cabin-chasers of a frigate were seldom of much use in 
 that day, on account of the rake of the stern. It always ap- 
 peared to me that the Spaniards built the best ships in this 
 respect, the English and Americans in particular seeming 
 never to calculate the chances of running away. I do not 
 say this, in reference to the Spanish ships, however, under 
 any idea that the Spanish nation wants courage — for a falser 
 notion cannot exist — but merely to state their superiority in 
 one point of naval architecture, at the very moment when, 
 having built a fine ship, they did not know how to make use 
 of her. 
 
 The first ten minutes after the four combatants were clear 
 of the smoke, were actively employed in repairing damages; 
 on the part of the French confusedly, and I make no doubt 
 clamorously ; on that of the English with great readiness 
 and a perfect understanding of their business. Notwith- 
 standing this was the general character of the exertions of 
 the respective parties, there were exceptions to the rule. On 
 board le Cerf, for instance, I observed a gang of men at 
 work clearing the ship from the wreck of the mainmast, who 
 proceeded with a degree of coolness, vigor, and method, 
 which showed what materials were thrown away in that 
 service for want of a good system ; and chiefly, as I shall 
 always think, because the officers did not understand the 
 immense importance of preserving silence on board a 
 crowded vessel. The n*ative taciturnity of the English, in- 
 creased by the social discipline of that well-ordered — per- 
 
284 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 haps over-ordered — nation, has won them as many battles 
 on the ocean, as the native loquacity of their enemies — in- 
 creased possibly during the reign of les citoyefis by political 
 exaggeration — has lost. It is lucky for us that the Ameri- 
 can character inclines to silence and thoughtfulness, in 
 grave emergencies; we are noisy, garrulous, and sputtering 
 only in our politics. 
 
 Perceiving that the storm was likely to pass to leeward, 
 we remained stationary a little time to watch the closing 
 scene. I was surprised at the manner in which the Black 
 Prince held aloof after the Speedy had bore up and was 
 running down in the track of her enemies, sheering first 
 upon one quarter of le Cerf and then on the other, pouring 
 in a close and evidently a destructive fire. At length Sir 
 Hotham Ward bore up, and went off before the wind also, 
 moving three feet to the Speedy's two, in consequence of 
 being able to carry all three of her topsails. It would seem 
 that Monsieur Menneval was not satisfied with the manner 
 in which his consort was treated; for instead of waiting to 
 be assailed in the same way he put his helm to port and 
 came by the wind, delivering a broadside as his ship luffed, 
 that soon explained the reason of the Black Prince's delay. 
 That ship had been getting up preventers to save her masts, 
 and something important must have been cut by this dis- 
 charge from la Desir^e, as her mainmast went immediately 
 after she received the fire, dragging down with it her mizzen- 
 topmast. The English ship showed stuff, however, under 
 circumstances so critical. Everything on the foremast still 
 drew, and she continued on, heading direct for her enemy, nor 
 did she attempt to luff until within two hundred yards of her, 
 when she came by the wind slowly and heavily, a manoeuvre 
 that was materially aided by the fore-topmast's following 
 the spars aft, just as her helm must have been put to port. 
 Le Cerf finding the battle was again to be stationary, also 
 came by the wind, and then all four of the ships went at it 
 again, as ardently as if the affair had just commenced. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 285 
 
 It would not be easy to relate all the incidents of this 
 second combat. For two hours the four ships lay within a 
 cable's length of each other, keeping up as animated a con- 
 test as circumstances would allow. I was particularly 
 struck with the noble behavior of the Black Prince, which 
 ship was compelled to fire through the wreck of her masts, 
 notwithstanding which, she manifestly got the best of the 
 cannonading, as against her particular antagonist la Desiree. 
 I cannot say that either of the four vessels failed of her 
 duty, though, I think, as a whole. Sir Hotham Ward showed 
 the most game, probably from the fact that he had the most 
 need of it. Encumbered by so much wreck, of which it was 
 impossible to get rid while exposed to so heavy a fire, the 
 Black Prince, however, was finally dropped by her ad- 
 versary, la Ddsir^e, drawing gradually ahead, until neither 
 of those two vessels could bring a gun to bear. The Eng- 
 lish now turned to, to clear away wreck again, while the 
 Frenchman bent a new fore-course and a new spanker, 
 those that had been standing being reduced to rags. 
 
 The Speedy and Cerf had not been idle the while. The 
 French vessel played her part manfully, nor was there much 
 to choose between them, when the latter wore round and fol- 
 lowed her consort, exchanging a fire with the Black Prince 
 in passing her. 
 
 Had not the real superiority of the English over the 
 French oi^ the ocean now come in play, this combat would 
 have been a drawn battle, though accompanied by the usual 
 characteristics of such struggles, at the close of the last and 
 the beginning of the present century ; or the latter consider- 
 ing an escape a sort of victory. But both parties were re- 
 duced to the necessity of repairing damages, and this was 
 the work to prove true nautical skill. Any man may load 
 and fire a gun, but it needs a trained seaman to meet the 
 professional emergencies of warfare. A clod-hopper might 
 knock a mast out of a vessel, but a sailor must replace it. 
 From the beginning of this affair, all of us in the Dawn 
 
286 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 had been struck with the order, regularity, and dispatch 
 with which the Black Prince and Speedy had made and 
 shortened sail, and the quickness and resource with which 
 they had done all that seamanship required in securing 
 wounded spars and torn sails; while there had been no end 
 to Marble's sneers and comments on the bungling confusion 
 of the French. This difference now became doubly ap- 
 parent, when there was no smoke nor any cannonading to 
 divert the attention of the respective crews. In half an 
 hour the Black Prince was clear of the wreck, and she had 
 bent several new sails, while the difficulties on board her 
 antagonist appeared just then to be at their height. This 
 same difference existed between the two other vessels, 
 though, on the whole, le Cerf got out of her distress sooner 
 and more skilfully than her consort. As to the Speedy, I 
 must do my old acquaintance. Lord Harry Dermond, the 
 justice to say, that he both fought his ship and repaired his 
 damages in a highly seamanlike manner. I'll answer for 
 it, the Hon. Lieutenant Powlett had not much to do with 
 either. He had much better been in his mother's drawing- 
 room that day, and permitted a more fitting man to fill his 
 place. Sennit was then on his way to Barbadoes, however, 
 nor do I believe your master of a press gang ever does 
 much before an enemy. 
 
 Fully two hours passed, during which the combatants 
 were busy in repairing damages. At the end of this time, 
 la D^sir^e and le Cerf had drawn more than a mile to the 
 eastward of the English ships; the latter following them, 
 as soon as clear of their wrecks, but under diminished sail. 
 The Black Prince had actually got up three spare topmasts, 
 in the interval, and was now ready to set their sails. The 
 Speedy was less active, or less skilful, though she, too, had 
 not been idle. Then the English drove fast toward their 
 enemies. Monsieur Menneval bore up in good season, this 
 time, edging away, and opening the fire of both ships on his 
 adversaries, when they were about half a mile distant. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 28/ 
 
 The effect of this early movement was soon apparent, it be- 
 ing a great mistake to reserve a ship's fire, as against an 
 enemy that approaches nearly bows on. M'Donough owed 
 his victory in Plattsburg Bay, to having improved so favor- 
 able a chance ; and the French were beaten at the Nile, be- 
 cause they did not; though Nelson probably would have 
 overcome them under any circumstances; the energy im- 
 parted by one of his character, more than counterbalancing 
 any little advantage in tactics. 
 
 On the present occasion, we could see the fire of the 
 French taking effect on the Black Prince's spars, as soon 
 as they opened her batteries. As the matter was subse- 
 quently explained in the official account, that ship's lower 
 masts were badly wounded before she sent up the new top- 
 masts; and, receiving some further injuries, stick began to 
 come down after stick, until nothing was left of all her 
 hamper, but three stumps of lower masts, the highest less 
 than twenty feet above the deck. Sir Hotham Ward was 
 now in the worst plight he had been in that day, his ship 
 being unable to advance a foot, her drift excepted, until 
 everything was cut away. To the landsman it may appear 
 a small job to cut ropes with axes, and thus liberate a vessel 
 from the encumbrance and danger of falling spars; but the 
 seaman knows it is often a most delicate and laborious piece 
 of duty. The ocean is never quiet ; and a vessel that is not 
 steadied by the pressure of her sails, frequently rolls in a 
 way to render it no slight task even to maintain one's foot- 
 ing on her decks; frigates and ships of the line frequently 
 proving more inconvenient than smaller vessels, under such 
 circumstances. 
 
 There was one fortunate occurrence to the British, con- 
 nected with this disaster. The French had been so thor- 
 oughly bent on dismasting the Black Prince, that they paid 
 little attention to the Speedy; that ship actually passing a 
 short distance to windward of her consort, unnoticed and 
 unharmed. As the French were going to leeward the whole 
 
288 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 time, it enabled the Speedy to get out of the range of their 
 guns, before she bore up. As soon as this was effected, she 
 followed her enemies, under twice as much canvas as they 
 carried themselves. Of course, in less than half an hour, 
 she was enabled to close with le Cerf, coming up on one of 
 her quarters, and opening a heavy fire close aboard her. 
 All this time, the Black Prince remained like a log upon the 
 water, trying to get clear of her wreck, the combat driving 
 slowly away from her to leeward. Her men worked like 
 ants, and we actually heard the cheers they raised, as the 
 hull of their ship forged itself clear of the maze of masts, 
 yards, sails, and rigging, in which it had been so long en- 
 veloped. This was no sooner done, than she let fall a sail 
 from her spritsail-yard, one bent for the occasion, and a 
 topgallant-sail was set to a light spar that had been rigged 
 against the stump of the mainmast — the stick that rose 
 highest from her deck. 
 
 As the battle, like a gust in the heavens, was passing to 
 leeward. Marble and I determined to fill, and follow the 
 combatants down, the course being precisely that we wished 
 to steer. With a view, however, to keep out of the range of 
 shot, we hauled the Dawn up to the eastward first, intend- 
 ing to keep her in the wake of the Black Prince. Of 
 course we were in no hurry, it now being in our power to 
 go six feet to that ship's one. 
 
 In executing our purpose, we passed close to the wreck of 
 the English frigate's spars. There they were rolling about 
 on the troubled water, and we actually saw the body of a 
 man caught in some of the rigging, as the sea occasionally 
 tossed it to the surface. The poor fellow had probably 
 gone over with the mast and been drowned before assistance 
 could be rendered. With an enemy escaping, min-of-war's- 
 men are not very particular about picking up the bodies of 
 their dead. 
 
 I did not venture to run the Dawn directly down in the 
 Englishman's wake, but we kept her off and on, rather, tak- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 289 
 
 ing good care not to go within a mile of her. All this time 
 the Speedy was playing upon the Cerf's quarter, the latter 
 ship becoming too crippled to luff, while Monsieur Menne- 
 val was travelling off to leeward, unmolested, having ob- 
 tained an advantage in the way of speed, that he was un- 
 willing to put in any jeopardy by coming again under fire. 
 This officer did not want for spirit, but the French had got 
 to be so accustomed to defeat, in their naval encounters with 
 the English, that, like several other nations on the land, 
 they had begun to look upon victory as hopeless. The Cerf 
 was very nobly fought. Notwithstanding the disadvantages 
 under which she labored, that ship held out until the Black 
 Prince had actually given her a close broadside on her lar- 
 board quarter; the Speedy being kept the whole time on 
 her starboard with great skill, pouring in a nearly unre- 
 sisted fire. The Cerf struck only as she found that the 
 battle was to be two to one, and under so many other disad- 
 vantages, in the bargain. 
 
 This closed the affair, so far as the fighting was con- 
 cerned, la Desir^e standing on unmolested, though, as I 
 afterward learned, she was picked up next morning by a 
 homeward-bound English two-decker, hauling down her 
 colors without any resistance. 
 
 The reader may feel some curiosity to know how we felt 
 on board the Dawn, during the five hours that elapsed be- 
 tween the firing of the first and the last gun, on this occa- 
 sion ; what was said among us, and how we proceeded as 
 soon as the victory was decided. The last he will learn in 
 the regular course of the narrative ; as for the first, it is soon 
 told. It was not easy to find four men who were more im- 
 partial, as between the combatants, than those in the Dawn. 
 My early preferences had certainly been in favor of Eng- 
 land, as was very generally the case among all the better- 
 educated Americans of my period, at least as low down as 
 the war of 1812. But going beyond the scene of internal 
 political discussion, and substituting observation for the 
 '9 
 
290 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 eulogies and sophisms of the newspapers, had wrought 
 divers changes in my opinion. England was then no more 
 to me than any other nation ; I was not of the French school 
 of politics, however, and kept myself as much aloof from 
 one of these foreign schools of political logicians as from 
 the other. I may be said to have been born a federalist; 
 but this change of sentiment had prevented my ever giving 
 a federal vote since attaining my majority. 
 
 Marble had entertained a strong dislike for England ever 
 since the Revolution. But at the same time he had inherited 
 the vulgar contempt of his class for Frenchmen ; and I must 
 own that he had a fierce pleasure in seeing the combatants 
 destroy each other. Had we been near enough to witness 
 the personal suffering inflicted by the terrible wounds of a 
 naval combat, I make no doubt his feelings would have 
 been different; but, as things were, he only saw French and 
 English ships tearing each other to pieces. During the 
 height of the affair, he osberved to me : 
 
 " If this Monsieur Gallois and his bloody lugger could 
 only be brought into the scrape, Miles, my mind would be 
 contented. I should glory in seeing the corvette and the 
 Polisson scratching out each other's eyes, like two fish- 
 women whose dictionaries have given out." 
 
 Neb and Diogenes regarded the whole thing very much 
 as I suppose the Caesars used to look upon the arena when 
 the gladiators were the most bloodthirsty. The negroes 
 would laugh, cry " golly ! " or shake their heads with delight, 
 when half a dozen guns went off together; receiving the re- 
 ports as a sort of evidence that crashing work was going on, 
 on board the vessels. But I overheard a dialogue between 
 these two children of Africa, that may best explain their 
 feelings: 
 
 "Which you t'ink whip, Neb?" Diogenes asked, with a 
 grin that showed every ivory tooth in his head. 
 
 " I t'ink 'em bot' get it smartly," answered my fellow. 
 " Vou see how a Speedy make quick work, eh ? " 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 29 1 
 
 " I wish *em go a leetle nearer, Neb. Some shot nebber 
 hit, at all." 
 
 " Dat always so, cook, in battle. Dere ! dat a smasher 
 for John Bull!" 
 
 " He won't want to press more men just now. Eh, Neb? " 
 
 "Now you see Johnny Crepaud catch it! Woss! Dat 
 cracks 'e cabin winders! " 
 
 " What dat to us, Neb ? 'Spose he eat one anoder, don't 
 hurt us!" 
 
 Here the two spectators broke out into a loud fit of 
 laughter, clapping their hands and swinging their bodies 
 about as if the whole thing were capital fun. Diogenes was 
 so much delighted when all the Black Prince's spars went, 
 that he actually began to dance, Neb regarding his antics 
 with a sort of good-natured sympathy. There is no ques- 
 tion that man, at the bottom, has a good deal of the wild 
 beast in him, and that he can be brought to look upon any 
 spectacle, however fierce and sanguinary, as a source of in- 
 terest and entertainment. If a criminal is to be executed, 
 we always find thousands of both sexes and all ages assem- 
 bling to witness a fellow-creature's agony, and although 
 these curious personages often have sentimental qualms 
 during the revolting spectacle itself, they never turn away 
 their eyes, until satisfied with all that there is to be seen of 
 the terrible or the revolting. 
 
 A word must be added concerning an acquaintance, Mon- 
 sieur Gallois. Just as the Black Prince's masts went, I saw 
 him, a long way to windward, stretching in toward the 
 coast, and carrying sail as hard as his lugger would bear. 
 The corvette was still close at his heels, and Marble soon 
 after drew my attention toward him to observe the smoke 
 that was rising above the sloop-of-war. The distance was 
 so great and the guns so light that we heard no reports, but 
 the smoke continued to rise u^til both vessels went out of 
 sight, in the southwestern board. I subsequently learned 
 that the lugger escaped, after all. She was very hard 
 
292 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 pressed, and would have been captured, had not the English 
 ship carried away her main-topgallant-mast, in her eager- 
 ness to get alongside. To that accident alone did Monsieur 
 Gallois owe his escape. I trust he and Monsieur le Gros 
 had a happy meeting. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The sea wax'd calm, and we discovered 
 Two ships from far making amain to us, 
 Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this : 
 But on they came— O, let me say no more ! 
 Gather the sequel by that went before. 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 It was high time for the Dawn to be doing. Of all the 
 ships to leeward, the Speedy, the vessel we had most reason 
 to apprehend, was in the best condition to do us harm. It 
 was true that just then we might outsail her, but a man-of- 
 war's crew would soon restore the balance of power, if it did 
 not make it preponderate against us. I called to my mate, 
 and we went aft to consult. 
 
 " It will not do for us to remain any longer here, Moses," 
 I began; "the English are masters of the day, and the 
 Speedy's officers having recognized us, beyond all doubt, 
 she will be on our heels the moment she can." 
 
 "I rather think. Miles, her travelling, for some hours to 
 come, is over. There she is, however, and she has our crew 
 on board her, and it would be a good thing to get some of 
 them, if possible. If a body had a boat, now, I might go 
 down with a flag of truce, and see what tarms could be 
 made." 
 
 I laughed at this conceit, telling Marble he would be wise 
 to remain where he was. I would give the Speedy four 
 hours to get herself in tolerable sailing trim again, suppos- 
 ing her bent on pursuit. If in no immediate hurry, it might 
 occupy her four-and-twenty hours. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 293 
 
 " I think she may be disposed to follow the other French 
 frigate, which is clearly making her way toward Brest," I 
 added, " in which case we have nothing to fear. By George ! 
 there goes a gun, and here comes a shot in our direction — 
 you can see it, Moses, skipping along the water, almost in a 
 line between us and the frigate. Ay, here it comes! " 
 
 All this was literally true. The Speedy lay with her 
 bows toward us, and she had suddenly fired the shot to 
 which I alluded, and which now came bounding from wave 
 to wave, until it struck precisely in a line with the ship, 
 about a hundred yards distant. 
 
 " Halloo ! '^ cried Marble, who had levelled his glass 
 toward the frigates. " There's the deuce to pay down there, 
 Miles — one boat pulling this-a-way, for life or death, and 
 another a'ter it. The shot was intended for the leading 
 boat and not for us." 
 
 This brought my glass down, too. Sure enough, there 
 was a small boat pulling straight for us, and of course 
 directly to windward of the frigate ; the men in it exerting 
 every nerve. There were seven seamen in this boat,- six at 
 the oars, and one steering. The truth flashed on me in a 
 moment. These were some of our own people, headed by 
 the second mate, who had availed themselves of the circum- 
 stances of one of the Speedy's boats being in the water, 
 without a crew, to run away with it in the confusion of the 
 moment. The Black Prince had taken possession of the 
 prize, as we had previously noted, and that with a single 
 boat, and the cutter in pursuit appeared to me to be coming 
 from the Frenchman. I immediately acquainted Marble 
 with my views of the matter, and he seized on the idea 
 eagerly, as one probable and natural. 
 
 "Them's our fellows. Miles!" he exclaimed; "we must 
 fill, and meet 'em half way! " 
 
 It was certainly in our ^wer to lessen the distance the ' 
 fugitives had to run, by standing down to meet the leading 
 boat. This could not be done, however, without going 
 
294 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 within reach of the English guns; the late experiment show- 
 ing unanswerably, that we lay just without the drop of their 
 shot, as it was. I never saw men in a greater excitement, 
 than that which now came over us all in the Dawn. Fill, 
 we did, immediately; that, at least, could do no harm; 
 whereas it might do much good. I never supposed for a mo- 
 ment the English were sending boats after us, since, with the 
 wind that was blowing, it would have been easy for the 
 Dawn to leave them miles behind her, in the first hour. 
 Each instant rendered my first conjecture the most likely to 
 be true. There could be no mistaking the exertions of the 
 crews of the two boats; the pursuers seemingly doing their 
 best, as well as the pursued. The frigate could no longer 
 fire, however, the boats being already in a line, and there 
 being equal danger to both from her shot. 
 
 The reader will understand that large ships seldom en- 
 gage, when the ocean will permit it, without dropping one 
 or more of their boats into the water; and that warm actions 
 at sea rarely occur, without most of the boats being, more 
 or less, injured. It often happens that a frigate can muster 
 only one or two boats that will swim, after a combat; and 
 frequently only the one she had taken the precaution to 
 lower into the water, previously to engaging. It was owing 
 to some such circumstance that only one boat followed the 
 fugitives in the present instance. The race must neces- 
 sarily be short; and it would have been useless to send a 
 second boat in pursuit, could one be found, after the first 
 two or three all-important minutes were lost. 
 
 The Dawn showed her ensign, as a sign we saw our poor 
 fellows struggling to regain us, and then we filled our main 
 topsail, squaring away and standing down directly for the 
 fugitives. Heavens! how that main-yard went round, 
 though there were but three men at the braces. Each of us 
 hauled and worked like a giant. There was every induce- 
 ment of feeling, interest, and security to do so. With our 
 present force, the ship could scarcely be said to be safe; 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 295 
 
 whereas, the seven additional hands, and they our own 
 people, who were straining every nerve to join us, would at 
 once enable us to carry the ship direct to Hamburg. 
 
 Our old craft behaved beautifully. Neb was at the 
 wheel, the cook on the forecastle, while Marble and I got 
 ropes cleared away to throw to the runaways, as soon as they 
 should be near enough to receive them. Down we drove 
 toward the boat, and it was time we did, for the cutter in 
 pursuit, which pulled ten oars, and was full manned, was 
 gaining fast on the fugitives. As we afterward learned, in 
 the eagerness of starting, our men had shipped the crest of 
 a sea, and they were now laboring under the great disad- 
 vantage of carrying more than a barrel of water, which was 
 washing about in the bottom of their cutter, rendering her 
 both heavy and unsteady. 
 
 So intense was the interest we all felt in the result of this 
 struggle, that our feelings during the battle could not be 
 compared to it. I could see Marble move his body, as a 
 sitter in a boat is apt to do, at each jerk of the oars, under 
 the notion it helps the party along. Diogenes actually 
 called out, and this a dozen times at least, to encourage the 
 men to pull for their lives, though they were not yet within 
 a mile of us. The constant rising and setting of the boats 
 prevented my making very minute observations with the 
 glass; but I distinguished the face of my second mate, who 
 was sitting aft, and I could see he was steering with one 
 hand and baling with the other. We now waved our hats 
 in hopes of being seen, but got no answering signal, the 
 distance being still too great. 
 
 At that moment I cared nothing for the guns of the Eng- 
 lish ship, though we were running directly for them. The 
 boat — the boat was our object ! For that we steered as un- 
 erringly as the motion of the rolling water would allow. It 
 blew a good working br«eze; and, what was of the last im- 
 portance to us, it blew steadily. I fancied the ship did not 
 move, notwithstanding, though the rate at which we drew 
 
296 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 nearer to the boat ought to have told us better. But anx- 
 iety had taken the place of reason, and we were all disposed 
 to see things as we felt, rather than as we truly found them. 
 There was abundant reason for uneasiness, the cutter astern 
 certainly going through the water four feet to the other's 
 three. Manned with her regular crew, with everything in- 
 order, and with men accustomed to pull together, the largest 
 boat, and rowing ten oars to the six of my mate's, I made 
 no doubt that the cutter of the Black Prince would have 
 beaten materially in an ordinary race, more especially in 
 the rough water over which the contest occurred. But, 
 nearly a tenth full of water, the boat of the fugitives had a 
 greatly lessened chance of escape. 
 
 Of course, we then knew no more than we could see, and 
 we were not slow to perceive how fast the pursuers were 
 gaining on the pursued. I really began to tremble for the 
 result ; and this so much the more, as the larger cutter was 
 near enough by this time to permit me to discover, by means 
 of the glass, the ends of several muskets rising out of her 
 stern-sheets. Could she get near enough for her officers to 
 use these weapons, the chance of our people was gone, since 
 it was not to be even hoped they had any arms. 
 
 The end approached. The Dawn had got good way on 
 her. Marble and Diogenes having dragged down the main- 
 topgallant sheets and hoisted the sail. The water foamed 
 under our bows, and the boat was soon so near it became 
 indispensable to haul our wind. This we did with the 
 ship's head to the westward, without touching a brace, 
 though we luffed sufficiently to throw the wind out of all 
 the square sails. The last was done to deaden the vessel's 
 way, in order that the fugitives might reach her. 
 
 The struggle became frightful for its intenseness. Our 
 men were so near we could recognize them without the aid 
 of a glass; with it, I could read the glowing anxiety that 
 was in my second mate's countenance. Each instant the 
 pursuers closed, until they were actually much nearer to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 29/ 
 
 the pursued than the latter were to the Dawn. For the first 
 time, now, I suspected the truth, by the heavy movement of 
 the flying cutter, and the water that the second mate was 
 constantly baling out of her, using his hat. Marble brought 
 up the muskets left by the privateersmen, and began to re- 
 new their primings. He wished to fire at once on the pur- 
 suing boat — she being within range of a bullet — but this I 
 knew would not be legal. I promised to use them should 
 the English attempt to board the ship, but did not dare to 
 anticipate that movement. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the boats, the chasing gaining 
 always on the chased; and now the Black Prince and the 
 Speedy each threw a shot quite over us. We were about a 
 mile from the three frigates, rather increasing than lessening 
 that distance, however, as they drifted to leeward, while we 
 were slightly luffing, with our yards a little braced up, the 
 leeches lifting. Neb steered the ship as one would have 
 guided a pilot-boat. He had an eye for the boats as well 
 as for the sails — knew all that was wanted, and all that was 
 to be done. I never saw him touch a wheel with so delicate 
 a hand, or one that better did its duty. The Dawn's way 
 was so much deadened as to give the fugitives every oppor- 
 tunity to close, while she was steadily coming up abreast of 
 their course in readiness to meet them. 
 
 At this instant, the officer in the Black Prince's cutter 
 fired into that of the Speedy ; and one of our men suddenly 
 dropped his oar. He was hit. I thought the poor fellow's 
 arm was broken, for I could see him lay a hand on the in- 
 jured part, like a man who suffered pain. He instantly 
 changed places with the second mate, who, however, seized 
 his oar, and began to use it, with great power. Three more 
 muskets were fired, seemingly without doing any harm. But 
 the leading boat lost by this delay, while its pursuers held 
 steadily on. Our own people were within a hundred and 
 fifty yards of us — the English less than twenty behind 
 them. Why the latter did not now fire, I do not actually 
 
298 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 know ; but I suppose it to be, because their muskets were 
 all discharged, and the race was now too sharp to allow the 
 officer to reload. Possibly he did not wish to take life un- 
 necessarily, the chances fast turning to his side. 
 
 I called out to Marble to stand by with a rope. The 
 ship was slowly drawing ahead, and there was no time to be 
 lost. I then shouted to my second mate to be of good heart, 
 and he answered with a cheer. The English hurrahed, and 
 we sent back the cry from the ship. 
 
 " Stand by in the boat, for the rope ! " I cried. " Heave, 
 Moses — heave ! " 
 
 Marble hove from the mizzen-chains, the rope was 
 caught, and a motion of my hand told Neb to keep the ship 
 off, until everything drew. This was done, and the rattling 
 of the clew-garnet blocks announced that Diogenes was 
 hauling down the main -tack with the strength of a giant. 
 The sail opened, and Moses and I hauled in the sheet, until 
 the ship felt the enormous additional pressure of this broad 
 breadth of canvas. At this instant there was a cheer from 
 the boat. Leaping upon the taffrail, I saw the men erect, 
 waving their hats, and looking toward the pursuing cutter, 
 then within a hundred feet of them, vainly attempting to 
 come up with a boat that was now dragging nearly bows 
 under, and feeling all the strength of our tow. The officer 
 cheered his men to renewed exertion, and he began to load 
 a musket. At this moment the tow-line slipped from the 
 thwart of the boat, and we shot away, as it seemed to me, a 
 hundred feet, on the send of the very next sea. There was 
 not time for the Americans to get seated at their oars again, 
 before the other cutter grappled. All that had been gained 
 was lost, and, after so near and close a chance of recovering 
 the most valuable portion of my crew, was I again left on 
 the ocean with the old four to manage the Dawn ! 
 
 The English lieutenant knew his business too well, to 
 abandon the ship while there was a chance of recovering 
 her. The wind lulled a little, and he thought the hope of 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 299 
 
 success worth an effort. Merely taking all the oars out of 
 the Speedy's cutter, he dashed on in our wake. At first he 
 gained, nor was I unwilling he should, for I wished to speak 
 him. The main and fore-sheets were eased off, and Neb 
 was told to keep the topsails lifting. Thus favored, he soon 
 got within fifty yards of us, straining every nerve to get 
 nearer. The officer pointed a musket at me, and ordered 
 me to heave-to. I jumped off the taffrail, and, with my 
 body covered to the shoulders, pointed one of the French 
 muskets at him, and warned him to keep off. 
 
 " What have you done with the prize crew put on board 
 you from the Speedy, the other day ? " called out the lieu- 
 tenant. 
 
 " Sent them adrift," I answered. " We've had enough of 
 prize crews in this ship, and want no more." 
 
 " Heave-to, sir, on the pain of being treated as a pirate, 
 also." 
 
 "Ay, ay," shouted Marble, who could keep silent no 
 longer, " first catch a pirate. Fire, if you are tired of your 
 cruise. I wish them bloody Frenchmen had stopped all 
 your grog ! " 
 
 This was neither dignified nor politic, and I ordered my 
 mate to be silent. In a good-natured tone I inquired for 
 the names of the late combatants, and the losses of the dif- 
 ferent ships, but this was too cool for our pursuer's humor, 
 and I got no answer. He did not dare fire, however, find- 
 ing we v^ere armed, and, as I supposed, seeing there was no 
 prospect of his getting easily on board us, even should he 
 get alongside, he gave up the chase, returning to the cap- 
 tured boat. We again filled and trimmed everything, and 
 went dashing through the water at the rate of seven knots. 
 
 The frigates did not fire at us, after the guns already 
 mentioned. Why, I cannot positively say; but I thought, 
 at the time, that they had t^o many other things to attend 
 to, besides seeing the little chance there was of overtaking 
 us, should they even happen to cripple a spar or two. 
 
300 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Great was the disappointment on board the Dawn, at the 
 result of the final incidents of this eventful day. Marble 
 swore outright; for no remonstrance of mine could cure him 
 of indulging in this habit, especially when a little excited. 
 Diogenes grinned defiance, and fairly shook his fists at the 
 boat; while Neb laughed and half cried in a breath — the 
 sure sign the fellow's feelings were keenly aroused. 
 
 As for myself, I felt as much as any of the party, but pre- 
 served more self-command. I saw it was now necessary to 
 quit that vicinity, and to take some definite steps for the 
 preservation of my own ship and property. There was lit- 
 tle to apprehend, however, from the frigates, unless indeed 
 it should fall calm. In the latter case, they might board 
 us with their boats, which an hour or two's work would 
 probably enable them to use again. But I had no intention 
 of remaining in their neighborhood, being desirous of prof- 
 iting by the present wind. 
 
 The sails were trimmed accordingly, and the ship was 
 steered northwesterly, on a course that took us past the three 
 vessels-of-war, giving them so wide a berth as to avoid all 
 danger from their batteries. As soon as this was done, and 
 the Dawn was travelling her road at a good rate, I beckoned 
 to Marble to come near the wheel, for I had taken the 
 helmsman's duty on myself for an hour or two: in other 
 words, I was doing that which, from my boyish experience 
 on the Hudson, I had once fancied it was not only the duty, 
 but the Jf/easure, of every shipmaster to do, viz., steering! 
 Little did I understand, before practice taught me the les- 
 son, that of all the work on board ship, which Jack is re- 
 quired to do, his trick at the wheel is that which he least 
 covets, unless indeed it may be the office of stowing the jib 
 in heavy weather. 
 
 "Well, Moses," I began, "this affair is over, and we've 
 the Atlantic before us again, with all the ports of Europe to 
 select from, and a captain, one mate, the cook, and one man 
 to carry the ship where we please to take her." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3OI 
 
 "Ay, ay — *t has been a bad job, this last. I was as sure 
 of them lads, until the lieutenant fired his musket, as ever 
 I was of a good landfall with a fair wind. I can't describe 
 to you, Miles, the natur' of the disapp'intment I felt, when 
 I saw 'em give up. I can best compare it to that which 
 came over me when I discovered I was nothing but a bloody 
 hermit, after all my generalizing about being a governor 
 and a lord high admiral of an island, all to myself, as it 
 might be." 
 
 " It can't be helped, and we must take things as we find 
 them. The question is, what is to be done with the ship? 
 Should we venture into the Channel, yonder chaps will be 
 after us with the news of a Yankee, on board of whom they 
 put a prize crew, being adrift without the men; and there 
 are fifty cruisers ready to pick us up. The news will spread 
 all over the Channel in a week, and our chances of getting 
 through the Straits of Dover will be so small as not to be 
 worth naming; nay, these fellows will soon repair damages, 
 and might possibly overtake us themselves. The Speedy is 
 only half crippled." 
 
 "I see — I see. You've a trick with you, Miles, that 
 makes a few words go a great way. I see, and I agree. 
 But an idea has come to my mind, that you're welcome to, 
 and after turning it over, do what you please with it. In- 
 stead of going to the eastward of Scilly, what say you to 
 passing to the westward, and shaping our course for the 
 Irish Channel? The news will not follow us that-a-way 
 for some time ; and we may meet with some American, or 
 other, bound to Liverpool. Should the worst come to the 
 worst, we can pass through between Ireland and Scotland, 
 and work our way round Cape Wrath, and go into our port 
 of destination. It is a long road, I know, and a hard one 
 in certain seasons of the year, but it may be travelled in 
 midsummer, comfortably eitough." 
 
 "I like your notion well enough, Marble, and am ready 
 to carry it out, as far as we are able. It must be a hard 
 
302 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 fortune, indeed, that will not throw us in the way of some 
 fisherman, or coaster, who will be willing to let us have a 
 hand or two, for double wages." 
 
 " Why, on that p'int, Miles, the difficulty is in the war, 
 and the hot press that must now be going. The English 
 will be shy in visiting the opposite coast; and good men are 
 hard to find, just now, I'm thinking, floating about the coast 
 of England, unless they are under a pennant." 
 
 " A hand, or two, that can steer, will be an immense relief 
 to us, Moses, even though unable to go aloft. Call Neb to 
 the wheel, then, and we'll go look at the chart, so as to lay 
 our course." 
 
 All was done, accordingly. In half an hour, the Dawn 
 was steering for the western coast of England, with every- 
 thing set we thought it prudent to carry. Two hours after 
 we began to move away from the spot where they lay, the 
 frigates had sunk behind the curvature of the earth, and we 
 lost sight of them altogether. The weather continued good, 
 the breeze steady and fresh, and the Dawn did her duty ad- 
 mirably. We began to get accustomed to our situations, and 
 found them less arduous than had been apprehended. The 
 direction of the wind was so favorable, that it kept hope 
 alive; though we trebled our distance by going round the 
 British islands, instead of passing directly up Channel. 
 Twenty-four hours were necessary to carry us as far north 
 as the Land's End, however; and I determined to be then 
 governed by circumstances. Should the wind shift, we al- 
 ways had the direct route before us ; and I had my doubts 
 whether putting a bold face on the matter, running close in 
 with the English shore, and appearing to be bound for Lon- 
 don, were not the wisest course. There certainly was the 
 danger of the Speedy 's telling our story, in which case there 
 would be a sharp lookout for us; while there was the equal 
 chance that she might speak nothing for a week. Eight- 
 and-forty hours ahead of her, I should not have feared much 
 from her account of us. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 303 
 
 It is unnecessary to dwell minutely on the events of the 
 next few days. The weather continued good, the wind fair; 
 and our progress was in proportion. We saw nothing until 
 we got within two leagues of Scilly light, when we were 
 boarded by a pilot-boat out from those islands. This oc- 
 curred at sunrise, with the wind light at northeast, and one 
 sail in sight to windward, that had the appearance of a brig- 
 of-war, though she was still hull down, and not heading for us. 
 
 I saw that the smallness of our crew, and the course we 
 were steering, struck these pilots, the moment they had time 
 to ascertain the first fact. It was not usual, in that day, nor 
 do I suppose it is now, for deep-laden Americans to pass so 
 near England, coming from the southeast and steering to the 
 northwest. A remark to this effect fell from the mouth of 
 the principal pilot, as soon as I told him I did not wish to 
 go in to any of the neighboring ports. 
 
 "I am short of hands, and am desirous of obtaining three 
 or four good men," I said, "who shall be well paid for their 
 services, and sent back, without cost, to the place whence 
 they came." 
 
 " Ay, I see you've a small crew for so stout a craft, mas- 
 ter," the pilot answered. " May I ask what has happened 
 to bring you down so low ? " 
 
 " Why, you know how it is among your cruisers, in war- 
 time — an English frigate carried away all hands, with the 
 exception of these you see." 
 
 Now, this was true to the ear, at least, though I saw, 
 plainly enough, that I was not believed. 
 
 "It's not often his Majesty's officers shave so close," the 
 pilot answered, with a sort of sneer I did not like. " They 
 commonly send in hands with a ship, when they find it nec- 
 essary to take her own men." 
 
 "Ay, I suppose the laws require this with English ves- 
 sels; with Americans tbey are less particular; at all events, 
 you see the whole of us, and I should be very glad to get a 
 hand or two, if possible, out of your cutter." 
 
304 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "Where are you bound, master? Before we ship, we'd 
 like to know the port we sail for." 
 
 " Hamburg." 
 
 "Hamburg! Why, master, you're not heading for Ham- 
 burg, at all, which lies up the English^ not up the Irish 
 Channel." 
 
 " I am well aware of all that. But I am afraid to go into 
 the English Channel so short-handed. Those narrow wa- 
 ters give a man trouble, unless he has a full crew." 
 
 "The Channel is a good place to find men, master. 
 However, none of us can go with you, and no words be 
 necessary. As you've no occasion for a pilot, we must be 
 off a'ter something else." 
 
 The fellow now left me, without more words, and I saw 
 there was no use in attempting to detain him. He had got 
 a league from us, and we were jogging on our course, before 
 we discovered he was making signals to the brig, which had 
 kept dead away, and had set studding-sails on both sides. 
 As this was carrying much more sail than we could venture 
 to show, I thought our chance of escape small, indeed. 
 There was the whole day before us, with a light, and, doubt- 
 less, fast-sailing cruiser in chase of a heavily-loaded mer- 
 chantman. As a stern chase is, proverbially, a long chase, 
 however, I determined to do all we could to avoid the gen- 
 tleman. Sail was made, accordingly, so far as we dared, 
 and the ship was steered a little off her best mode of sail- 
 ing in her present trim. We saw the brig speak the pilot- 
 boat, and, from that moment, were certain her commander 
 had all the conjectures of the Scilly man added to his own. 
 The effect was soon to be noted, for when the two separated, 
 the cutter stood in for her own rocks, while the brig renewed 
 her chase. 
 
 That was an uneasy day. The man-of-war gained, but it 
 was quite slowly. She might beat us by a knot in the hour, 
 and, being ten miles astern, there was still the hope of its 
 falling dark before she could close. The wind, too, was 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 305 
 
 unsteady, and toward noon it grew so light, as to reduce 
 both vessels to only two or three knots' way. Of course, 
 this greatly lessened the difference in our rate of sailing, 
 and I had now strong hopes that night might come before 
 our pursuers could close. 
 
 Nor was I disappointed. The wind continued light until 
 sunset, when it came out a fine breeze at northwest, bring- 
 ing us dead to windward of the brig, which was then distant 
 some six miles. We got the proper sail on the ship as fast 
 as we could, though the cruiser was dashing ahead under 
 everything she could carry, long before we could get through 
 with the necessary work. When we did get at it, notwith- 
 standing, I found she had not much the advantage of us, 
 and now began to entertain some hopes of shaking her off in 
 the course of the night. Marble was confident of it, and 
 his confidence, on points of seamanship, was always entitled 
 to respect. 
 
 About ten, both vessels were on the starboard tack, stand- 
 ing to the southward and westward, or out toward the broad 
 Atlantic, with the brig about a league under the Dawn's 
 lee, and a little forward of her beam. This was the most 
 favorable position for us to be in, in order to effect our pur- 
 pose, since the cruiser had already passed her nearest point 
 to us, on that tack. The horizon to windward, and all along 
 the margin of the sea at the northward, was covered with 
 clouds, which threatened, by the way, a capful of wind. 
 This dark background would be likely to prevent our being 
 seen; and the instant the night shut in the outline of the 
 brig's canvas, I ordered our helm put down. 
 
 It was lively business, tacking such a ship as the Dawn, 
 under so much canvas, and in such a breeze, with four men ! 
 The helm was lashed hard down, and at it we went, like so 
 many tigers. The after-yards swung themselves, though the 
 maintack and sheet gave •us a good deal of trouble. We 
 braced everything aft sharp up before we left it, having 
 first managed to get the foreyard square. When this was 
 20 
 
306 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 done, we filled all forward, and dragged the yards and bow- 
 lines to their places with a will that seemed irresistible. 
 
 There were no means of knowing whether the brig came 
 round about this time or not. Agreeably to the rule of 
 chasing, she should have tacked when directly abeam, un- 
 less she fancied she could eat us out of the wind by stand- 
 ing on. We knew she did not tack when directly abeam, 
 but we could not see whether she came round after us, or 
 not. At all events, tack or not, she must still be near a 
 league under our lee, and we drove on toward the English 
 coast until the day reappeared, not a man of us all sleeping 
 a wink that night. How anxiously we watched the ocean 
 astern, and to leeward, as the returning light slowly raised 
 the veil of obscurity from before us! Nothing was in sight, 
 even when the sun appeared, to bathe the entire ocean in a 
 flood of glory. Not even a white speck inshore ; and as for 
 the brig, we never saw or heard more of her. Doubtless 
 she stood on, on the old course, hoping gradually to close 
 with us, or to draw so far ahead and to windward, as to 
 make certain of her prey in the morning. 
 
 According to our reckoning, the ship was now heading 
 well up toward the coast of Wales, which we might expect 
 to make in the course of the next four-and-twenty hours, 
 should the wind stand. I determined, therefore, to make 
 the best of the matter, and to go directly up the Irish Chan- 
 nel, hoping to fall in with some boat from the north shore, 
 that might not have as apt intellects on board it as those of 
 our Scilly pilot had proved to be. We stood on, conse- 
 quently, all that day, and another sun set without our making 
 the land. We saw several vessels at a distance in the after- 
 noon, but we were now in a part of the ocean where an Ameri- 
 can ship would be as little likely to be disturbed as in any I 
 know. It was the regular track of vessels bound to Liverpool, 
 and these last were as little molested as the want of men 
 would at all permit. Could we get past that port, we should 
 then be in the way of picking up half a dozen Irishmen. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 307 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Och ! botheration— 'tis a beautiful coost 
 
 All made up of rocks and deep bays : 
 Ye may sail up and down, a marvellous host, 
 
 And admire all its beautiful ways. 
 
 Irish Song. 
 
 Little did we, or could we, anticipate all that lay before 
 us. The wind held at northwest until the ship had got 
 within twenty miles of the Welsh coast ; then it came out 
 light again at the southward. We were now so near Liver- 
 pool that I expected every hour to make some American 
 bound in. None was seen, notwithstanding, and we stood 
 up channel, edging over toward the Irish coast at the same 
 time, determined to work our way to the northward as well 
 as we could. This sort of weather continued for two days 
 and nights, during which we managed to get up as high as 
 Whitehaven, when the wind came dead ahead, blowing a 
 stiff breeze. I foresaw from the commencement of this new 
 wind, that it would probably drive us down channel, and 
 out into the Atlantic once more, unless we could anchor. I 
 thought I would attempt the last somewhere under the Irish 
 coast, in the hope of getting some assistance from among 
 the children of St. Patrick. We all knew that Irish sailors, 
 half the time, were not very well trained, but anything that 
 could pull and haul would be invaluable to us in heavy 
 weather. We had now been more than a week, four of us 
 in all, working the ship, and instead of being in the least 
 fagged, we had rather got settled into our places, as it might 
 be, getting along without much trouble; still there were 
 moments when a little extra force would be of great moment 
 to us, and I could see by the angry look of the skies that 
 these moments were likely to increase in frequency and in 
 the magnitude of their. importance to us. 
 
 The waters we were in were so narrow that it was not 
 long before we drew close in with the Irish coast. Here, 
 
308 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 to my great joy, we saw a large fishing-boat, well out in the 
 offing, and under circumstances that rendered it easy for 
 those in it to run close under our lee. We made a signal, 
 therefore, and soon had the strangers lying-to, in the smooth 
 water we made for them, with our own main-yard aback. 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that we had gradually di- 
 minished our own canvas, as it became necessary, until the 
 ship was under double-reefed topsails, the forecourse, jib, 
 and spanker. We had brought the topsails down lower than 
 was necessary, in order to anticipate the time when it might 
 be indispensable. 
 
 The first of the men who came on board us was named 
 Terence O' something. His countenance was the droll 
 medley of fun, shrewdness, and blundering, that is so often 
 found in the Irish peasant, and which appears to be char- 
 acteristic of entire races in the island. 
 
 " A fine marnin', yer honor," he began, with a self-posses- 
 sion that nothing could disturb, though it was some time 
 past noon, and the day was anything but such a one as a 
 seaman likes. " A fine marnin', yer honor, and as fine a 
 ship! Is it fish that yer honor will be asking for? " 
 
 " I will take some of your fish, my friend, and pay you 
 well for them." 
 
 "Long life to yees! " 
 
 " I was about to say, I will pay you much better if you 
 can show me any lee, hereabouts, vyhich has good holding- 
 ground, where a ship might ride out the gale that is 
 coming." 
 
 "Shure, yer honor! — will I not? Shure, there's nivver 
 the lad on the coost that knows betther what it is yer honor 
 wants, or who'll supply yees, with half the good will." 
 
 " Of course you know the coast ; probably were born here- 
 abouts? " 
 
 "Of coorse, is it? Whereabouts should Terence O' 
 something be born, if it's not hereabouts? Is it know the 
 coost, too? Ah! we're ould acquaintances." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3O9 
 
 "And where do you intend to take the ship, Terence? " 
 
 "It's houlding-ground yer honor asked for? " 
 
 "Certainly. A bottom on which an anchor will not 
 drag." 
 
 "Och! is it thatl Well, all the bottom in this counthry 
 is of that same natur\ None of it will drag, without pull- 
 ing mighty hard. I'll swear to any part of it." 
 
 "You surely would not think of anchoring a ship out 
 here, a league from the land, with nothing to break either 
 wind or sea, and a gale commencing? " 
 
 "I anchor! Divil the bit did I ever anchor a ship, or a 
 brig, or even a cutther. I've not got so high up as that, yer 
 honor: but yon's ould Michael Sweeney, now; many's the 
 anchor he's cast out, miles at a time, sayin' he's been a say- 
 man, and knows the says from top to bottom. It's Michael 
 ye'll want, and Michael ye shall have." 
 
 Michael was spoken to, and he clambered up out of the 
 boat, as well as he could; the task not being very easy, 
 since the fishermen with difficulty kept their dull, heavy 
 boat out of our mizzen-chains. In the mean time. Marble 
 and I found time to compare notes. We agreed that Mr. 
 Terence McScale, or O' something — for I forget the fellow's 
 surname — would probably turn out a more useful man in 
 hauling in mackerel and John Dorys than in helping us to 
 take care of the Dawn. Nor did Michael, at the first 
 glance, promise anything much better. He was very old — 
 eighty, I should think — and appeared to have nullified] all 
 the brains he ever had by the constant use of whiskey; the 
 scent of which accompanied him with a sort of parasitical 
 odor, as that of tannin attends the leather-dresser. He was 
 not drunk just then, however, but seemed cool and collected. 
 I explained my wishes to this man; and was glad to find he 
 had a tolerable notion of nautical terms, and that he would 
 not be likely to get us into diflSculty, like Terence, through 
 any ignorance on this score. 
 
 " Is it anchor ye would, yer honor ? " answered Michael, 
 
3IO MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 when I had concluded. " Sure, that's aisy enough, and the 
 saison is good for that same; for the wind is getting up like 
 a giant. As for the guineas yer honor mintions, it's of no 
 avail atween fri'nds. I'll take 'em, to obleege ye, if yer 
 honor so wills, but the ship should be anchored if there 
 nivver was a grain of goold in the wur-r-r-ld. Would ye 
 like a berth pratty well out, or would yer honor choose to 
 go in among the rocks and lie like a babby in itscradhle? " 
 
 " I should prefer a safe roadstead, to venturing too far in, 
 without a professed pilot. By the look of the land inshore, 
 I should think it would be easy to find a lee against this 
 wind, provided we can get good holding-ground. That is 
 the difficulty I most apprehend." 
 
 "Trust ould Ireland for that, yer honor; yes, put faith in 
 us, for that same. Ye've only to fill your topsail and stand 
 in; ould Michael and ould Ireland together will take care 
 of yees." 
 
 I confess I greatly disliked the aspect of things inshore 
 with such a pilot; but the aspect of things outside was still 
 worse. Short-handed as we were, it would be impossible to 
 keep the ship in the channel should the gale come on as 
 heavily as it threatened ; and a single experiment satisfied 
 me, the four men in the boat would be of very little use in 
 working her; for I never saw persons who knew anything of 
 the water more awkward than they turned out to be on our 
 decks. Michael knew something, it is true; but he was too 
 old to turn his knowledge to much practical account, for 
 when I sent him to the wheel Neb had to remain there to 
 assist him in steering. There was no choice, therefore, and I 
 determined to stand close in, when, should not suitable berth 
 offer, it would always be in our power to ware offshore. 
 The fishing-boat was dropped astern, accordingly, the men 
 were all kept in the ship, and we stood in nearer to the 
 coast; the Dawn bending to the blasts, under the sail we 
 carried, in a way to render it difficult to stand erect on her 
 decks. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3II 
 
 The coast promised well as to formation, though there 
 was much to apprehend on the subject of the bottom. 
 Among rocks, an anchor is a ticklish thing to confide in, and 
 I feared it might be a difficult matter to find a proper bot- 
 tom as far out as I deemed it prudent to remain. But 
 Michael, and Terence, and Pat, and Murphy, or whatever 
 were the names of our protesting confident friends, insisted 
 that " ould Ireland " would never fail us. Marble and I 
 stood on the forecastle, watching the formation of the coast, 
 and making our comments, as the ship drove through the 
 short seas, buried to her figurehead. At length, we thought 
 a headland that was discernible a little under our lee-bow 
 looked promising, and Michael was called from the wheel 
 and questioned concerning it. The fellow affirmed he knew 
 the place well, and that the holding-ground on each side of 
 it was excellent, consenting at once to a proposition of mine 
 to bring up under its lee. We edged off, therefore, for this 
 point, making the necessary preparations for bringing up. 
 
 I was too busy in getting in canvas to note the progress 
 of the ship for the next twenty minutes. It took all four of 
 us to stow the jib, leaving Michael at the wheel the while. 
 And a tremendous job it was, though (I say it in humility) 
 four better men never lay out on a spar than those who set 
 about the task on this occasion. We got it in, however, 
 but, I need scarcely tell the seaman, it was not " stowed in 
 the skin." Marble insisted on leading the party, and never 
 before had I seen the old fellow work as he did on that 
 day. He had a faculty of incorporating his body and limbs 
 with the wood and ropes, standing, as it might be, on air, 
 working and dragging with his arms and broad shoulders, 
 in a way that appeared to give him just as much command 
 of his entire strength as another man would possess on the 
 ground. 
 
 At length we reduced tlje canvas to the fore-topmast stay- 
 sail and main-topsail, the latter double reefed. It was get- 
 ting to be time that the last should be close reefed (and we 
 
312 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 carried four reefs in the Dawn), but we hoped the cloth 
 would hold out until we wanted to roll it up altogether. 
 The puffs, however, began to come gale-fashion, and I fore- 
 saw we should get it presently in a style that would require 
 good looking to. 
 
 The ship soon drove within the extremity of the head- 
 land, the lead giving us forty fathoms of water. I had 
 previously asked Michael what water we might expect, but 
 this he frankly owned he could not tell. He was certain 
 that ships sometimes anchored there, but what water they 
 found was more than he knew. He was no conjuror, and 
 guessing might be dangerous, so he chose to say nothing 
 about it. It was nervous work for a shipmaster to carry his 
 vessel on a coast under such pilotage as this. I certainly 
 would have wore round as it was, were it not for the fact 
 that there was a clear sea to leeward, and that it would 
 always be as easy to run out into the open water, as the 
 wind was at that moment. 
 
 Marble and I now began to question our fisherman as to 
 the precise point where he intended to fetch up. Michael 
 was bothered, and it was plain enough his knowledge was 
 of the most general character. As for the particulars of his 
 calling, he treated them with the coolest indifference. He 
 had been much at sea in his younger days, it is true ; but 
 it was in ships-of-war, where the ropes were put into his 
 hands by captains of the mast, and where his superiors did 
 all the thinking. He could tell whether ships did or did 
 not anchor near a particular spot, but he knew no reason 
 for the one, or for the other. In a word, he had just that 
 sort of knowledge of seamanship as one gets of the world by 
 living in a province, where we all learn the leading prin- 
 ciples of humanity, and trust to magazines and works of 
 fiction for the finesse of life. 
 
 The lead proved a better guide than Michael, and seeing 
 some breakers inshore of us, I gave the order to clew up 
 the main-topsail, and to luff to the wind, before the ship 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 313 
 
 should lose her way. Our Irishmen pulled and hauled well 
 enough as soon as they were directed what to do; which 
 enabled Marble and myself each to stand by a stopper. We 
 had previously got the two bowers a-cockbill (the cables 
 were bent as soon as we made the land) ; and nothing re- 
 maiiied but to let run. Neb was at the wheel, with orders 
 to spring to the cables as soon as he heard them running 
 out, and everything was in readiness. I shouted the order 
 to " let run," and down both our anchors went at the same 
 instant in twenty-two fathoms of water. The ship took cable 
 at a fearful rate; but Marble and Diogenes being atone 
 bower, and Neb and I at the other, we succeeded in snub- 
 bing her with something like twenty fathoms within the 
 hawse-holes. There was a minute, when I thought the old 
 bark would get away from us; and when, by desperate 
 efforts, we did succeed in checking the mass, it seemed as 
 if she would shake the windlass out of her. No time was 
 lost in stoppering the cables and in rolling up the main- 
 topsail. 
 
 Michael and his companions now came to wish us good 
 luck, get the guineas, and to take their leave. The sea was 
 already so rough that the only mode that remained of get- 
 ting into their boat was by dropping from the end of the 
 spanker-boom. I endeavored to persuade two or three of 
 these fellows to stick by the ship, but in vain. They were 
 all married, and they had a certain protection against im- 
 pressment in their present manner of life; whereas, should 
 they be found at large, some man-of-war would probably 
 pick them up, and Michael's tales of the past had not given 
 them any great zest for the sort of life he described. 
 
 When these Irish fishermen left us and ran inshore, we 
 were thrown again altogether on our own resources. I had 
 explained to Michael our want of hands, however, attribut- 
 ing it to accidents and impressments, and he thought he 
 could persuade four or five young fellows to come off as soon 
 as the gale abated, on condition we would take them to 
 
314 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 America after discharging at Hamburg. These were to be 
 mere peasants, it is true, for seamen were scarce in that part 
 of the world, but they would be better than nothing. Half 
 a dozen athletic young Irishmen would relieve us seamen 
 from a vast deal of the heavy, lugging work of the ship, and 
 leave us strength and spirits to do that which unavoidably 
 fell to our share. With the understanding that he was to 
 receive, himself, a guinea a head for each sound man thus 
 brought us, we parted from old Michael, who probably has 
 never piloted a ship since, as I strongly suspect he had 
 never done before. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The power of God is everywhere, 
 
 Pervades all space and time ; 
 The power of God can still the air, 
 
 And rules in every clime ; — 
 Then bow the heart, and bend the knee. 
 And worship o'er both land and sea. 
 
 Duo. 
 
 I NEVER knew precisely the point on the coast of Ireland 
 where we anchored. It was somewhere between Strangford 
 and Dundrum Bay, though the name of the headland which 
 gave us a sort of protection I did not learn. In this part 
 of the island the coast trends north and south generally, 
 though at the place where we anchored its direction was 
 nearly from north-northeast to south-southwest, which, in 
 the early part of the gale, was as close as might be the 
 course in which the wind blew. At the moment we brought 
 up, the wind had hauled a little farther to the northward, 
 giving us a oetter lee; but, to my great regret, Michael had 
 scarcely left us when it shifted to due northeast, making a 
 fair rake of the channel. This left us very little of a lee— 
 the point ahead of us being no great matter, and we barely 
 within it. I consulted such maps as I had, and came to the 
 conclusion that we were off the county Down, a part of the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 315 
 
 kingdom that was at least civilized, and where we should 
 be apt to receive good treatment in the event of being 
 wrecked. Our fishermen told us that they belonged to a 
 Bally-something, but what the something was I have for- 
 gotten, if I ever understood them. " Told us," I say out of 
 complaisance, but ^^ tould^^ would be the better word, as all 
 they uttered savored so much of the brogue that it was not 
 always easy to get at their meaning. 
 
 It was past noon when the Dawn anchored, and the wind 
 got more to the eastward about half an hour afterward. It 
 was out of the question to think of getting under way again, 
 with so strong a wind and with our feeble crew. Had it 
 been perfectly smooth water, and had there been neither 
 tide nor air, it would have taken us half a day, at least, to 
 get our two bowers. It was folly, therefore, to think of it, 
 situated as we were. It only remained to ride out the gale 
 in the best manner we could. 
 
 Nothing occurred for several hours except that the gale 
 increased sensibly in violence. Like an active disease, it 
 was fast coming to a crisis. Toward sunset, however, a 
 little incident took place that gave me great uneasiness of 
 itself, though I had forebodings of evil from the commence- 
 ment of that tempest. Two sail appeared in sight to wind- 
 ward, being quite near us, close in with the Irish coast, be- 
 fore either was observed on board the Dawn. The leading 
 vessel of the two was a man-of-war cutter, running nearly 
 before it, under a close-reefed square-sail — canvas so low that 
 it might easily be confounded with the foam of the sea at a 
 little distance. She rounded the headland, and was edging 
 away from the coast, apparently for sea-room, when she took 
 a sudden sheer in our direction. As if curious to ascertain 
 what could have taken so large a square-rigged vessel as the 
 Dawn into her present berth, this cutter actually ran athwart 
 our hawse, passing in»ide of us at a distance of some fifty 
 yards. We were examined; but no attempt was made to 
 speak us. I felt no uneasiness at the proximity of these 
 
3l6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 two cruisers, for I knew a boat could not live — our ship 
 fairly pitching her martingale into the water at her anchors. 
 
 The frigate followed the cutter, though she passed us out- 
 side, even nearer than her consort. I got my first accurate 
 notion of the weight of the gale by seeing this large ship 
 drive past us, under a reefed foresail and a close-reefed 
 main-topsail, running nearly dead before it. As she came 
 down, she took a sheer, like a vessel scudding in the open 
 ocean; and, at one moment, I feared she would plunge 
 directly into us, though she minded her helm in time to 
 clear everything. A dozen officers on board her were look- 
 ing at us from her gangway, her quarter-deck guns, and 
 rigging. All were compelled to hold on with firm grasps; 
 and wonder seemed painted in every countenance. I could 
 see their features for half a minute only, or even a less 
 time; but I could discern this expression in each face. 
 Some looked up at our spars, as if to ascertain whether all 
 were right; while others looked back at the headland they 
 had just rounded, like those who examined the roadstead. 
 Most shook their heads as remarks passed from one to the 
 other. The captain, as I took him to be, spoke us. "What 
 are you doing here? " came to me through a trumpet plainly 
 enough ; but answering was out of the question. Before I 
 could even get a trumpet to my mouth the frigate had gone 
 foaming by and was already beyond the reach of the voice. 
 Heads appeared over her taffrail for some time, and we 
 fancied these man-of-war's-men regarded us as the instructed 
 are apt to regard the ignorant, whom they fancy to be in 
 danger. Marble sneered a little at the curiosity betrayed 
 by these two crafts; but, as for myself, it caused great un- 
 easiness. I fancied they acted like those who were ac- 
 quainted with the coast, manifesting surprise at seeing a 
 stranger anchored in the berth we occupied. 
 
 I slept little that night. Marble kept me company most 
 of the time, but Neb and Diogenes were as tranquil as if 
 sleeping on good French mattresses — made of hair, not 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 317 
 
 down — within the walls of a citadel. Little disturbed these 
 negroes, who followed our fortunes with the implicit re- 
 liance that habit and education had bred in them, as it might 
 be, in and in. In this particular they were literally dyed 
 in the wool, to use one of the shop expressions so common 
 among us. 
 
 There was a little relaxation in the force of the gale in 
 the middle of the night; but, with the return of day, came 
 the winds howling down upon us in a way that announced 
 a more than common storm. All hands of us were now up 
 and paying every attention to the vessel. My greatest con- 
 cern had been lest some of the sails should get adrift, for 
 they had been furled by few and fatigued men. This did 
 not happen, however, our gaskets and lashings doing all of 
 their duty. We got our breakfasts, therefore, in the or- 
 dinary way, and Marble and myself went and stood on the 
 forecastle, to watch the signs of the times, like faithful 
 guardians, who were anxious to get as near as possible to 
 the danger. 
 
 It was wonderful how the ship pitched! Frequently her 
 Aurora was completely submerged, and tons of water would 
 come in upon the forecastle, washing entirely aft at the next 
 send, so that our only means of keeping above water was to 
 stand on the windlass-bitts, or to get upon the heart of the 
 main-stay. Dry we were not, nor did we think of attempt- 
 ing to be so, but such expedients were necessary to enable 
 us to remain stationary; often to enable us to breathe. I 
 no longer wondered at the manner in which the cutter and 
 frigate had examined our positions. It was quite clear the 
 fishermen knew very little about finding a proper berth for 
 a ship, and that we might pretty nearly as well have 
 brought up in the middle of St. George's Channel, could 
 our ground-tackle reach the bottom, as to have brought up 
 where we were. 
 
 Just about nine o'clock. Marble and I had got near each 
 other on the fife-rail and held a consultation on the subject 
 
3l8 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 of our prospects. Although we both clung to the same top- 
 sail-sheet, we were obliged to halloo to make ourselves 
 heard, the howling of the wind through the rigging convert- 
 ing the hamper into a sort of tremendous Eolian harp, while 
 the roar of the water kept up a species of bass accompani- 
 ment to this music of the ocean. Marble was the one who 
 had brought about this communication, and he was the first 
 to speak. 
 
 " I say, Miles," he called out, his mouth within three feet 
 of my ear, " she jumps about like a whale with a harpoon 
 in it! I've been afraid she'd jerk the stem out of her." 
 
 ** Not much fear of that, Moses — my great concern is that 
 starboard bower cable; it has a good deal more strain on it 
 than the larboard, and you can see how the strands are 
 stretched." 
 
 " Ay, ay, 'tis generalizing its strength, as one may say. 
 S'pose we clap the helm a-port and try the effects of a 
 sheer." 
 
 " I've thought of that ; as there is a strong tide going, it 
 may possibly answer " 
 
 These words were scarcely out of my mouth when three 
 seas of enormous height came rolling down upon us, like 
 three great roystering companions in a crowd of sullen men, 
 the first of which raised the Dawn's bows so high in the air 
 as to cause us both to watch the result in breathless silence. 
 The plunge into the trough was in a just proportion to the 
 toss into the air; and I felt a surge, as if something gave 
 way under the violent strain that succeeded. The torrent of 
 water that came on the forecastle prevented anything from 
 being seen ; but again the bows rose, again they sunk, and 
 then the ship seemed easier. 
 
 " We are all adrift, Miles! " Marble shouted, leaning for- 
 ward to be heard. " Both bowers have snapped like thread, 
 and here we go, head-foremost, in for the land! " 
 
 All this was true enough ! The cables had parted, and 
 the ship's head was falling off fast from the gale, like the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 319 
 
 Steed that has slipped his bridle, before he commences his 
 furious and headlong career. I looked round for the 
 negroes ; but Neb was already at the wheel. That noble 
 fellow, true as steel, had perceived the accident as soon as 
 any of us, and he sprang to the very part of the vessel where 
 he was most needed. He had a seaman's faculties in per- 
 fection, though ratiocination was certainly not his forte. A 
 motion of my hand ordered him to put the helm hard up, 
 and the answering sign let me know that I was obeyed. We 
 could do no more just then, but the result was awaited in 
 awful expectation. 
 
 The Dawn's bows fell off until the ship lay broadside to 
 the gale, which made her reel until her lee lower yard-arms 
 nearly dipped. Then she overcame the cauldron of water 
 that was boiling around her, and began to draw heavily 
 ahead. Three seas swept athwart her decks before she 
 minded her helm in the least, carrying with them every- 
 thing that was not most firmly lashed, or which had not 
 animal life to direct its movements, away to leeward. They 
 swept off the hen-coops, and ripped four or five water-casks 
 from their lashings, even as if the latter had been pack- 
 thread. The caboose-house went also at the last of these 
 terrific seas; and nothing saved the caboose itself but its 
 great weight, added to the strength of its fastenings. In a 
 word, little was left that could very well go but the launch, 
 the gripes of which fortunately held on. 
 
 By the time this desolation was completed the ship began 
 to fall off, and her movement through the water became very 
 perceptible. At first she dashed in toward the land, run- 
 ning, I make no doubt, quite half a mile obliquely in that 
 direction, ere she got fairly before the wind — a course which 
 carried her nearly in a line with the coast. Marble and 
 myself now got aft without much trouble, and put the 
 helm a little to starboard, with a view to edge off to the 
 passage as far as possible. The wind blew so nearly down 
 channel that there would have been no immediate danger 
 
320 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 had we an offing; but the ship had not driven before the 
 gale more than three or four hours when we made land 
 ahead; the coast trending in this part of the island nearly 
 north and south. Marble suggested the prudence of taking 
 time by the forelock and of getting the main-topsail on the 
 ship, to force her off the land, the coast in the neighborhood 
 of Dublin lying under our lee-bow. We had taken the pre- 
 caution to close reef everything before it was furled, and I 
 went aloft myself to lower this sail. If I had formed a very 
 respectful opinion of the power of the gale while on deck, 
 that opinion was materially heightened when I came to feel 
 its gusts on the main-topsail-yard. It was not an easy 
 matter to hold on at all; and to work required great readi- 
 ness and strength. Nevertheless, I got the sail loose, and 
 then I went down and aided Marble and the cook to drag 
 home the sheets. Home they could not be dragged by us, 
 notwithstanding we got up a luff; but we made the sail 
 stand reasonably well. 
 
 The ship immediately felt the effect of even this rag of 
 canvas. She drove ahead at a prodigious rate, running, I 
 make no question, some eleven or twelve knots, under the 
 united power collected by her hamper and this one frag- 
 ment of a sail. Her drift was unavoidably great, and I 
 thought the current sucked her in toward the land; but, on 
 the whole, she kept at about the same distance from the 
 shore, foaming along it, much as we had seen the frigate do 
 the day before. At the rate we were going, twelve or fifteen 
 hours would carry us down to the passage between Holyhead 
 and Ireland, when we should get more sea-room, on account 
 of the land's trending again to the westward. 
 
 Long, long hours did Marble and I watch the progress of 
 our ship that day and the succeeding night, each of us tak- 
 ing our tricks at the wheel, and doing seaman's duty, as 
 well as that of mate and master. All this time the vessel 
 was dashing furiously out toward the Atlantic, which she 
 reached ere the morning of the succeeding day. Just before 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 321 
 
 the light returned we were whirled past a large ship that 
 was lying-to under a single storm-staysail, and which I rec- 
 ognized as the frigate that had taken a look at us at our 
 anchorage. The cutter was close at hand, and the fearful 
 manner in which these two strong-handed vessels pitched 
 and lurched gave me some idea of what must be our situa- 
 tion should we be compelled to luff to the wind. I sup- 
 posed they had done so in order to keep as long as pos- 
 sible on their cruising ground, near the chops of the Irish 
 Channel. 
 
 A wild scene lay around us at the return of light. The 
 Atlantic resembled a chaos of waters, the portions of the 
 rolling sheet that were not white with foam looking green 
 and angry. The clouds hid the sun, and the gale seemed to 
 be fast coming to its height. At ten we drove past an 
 American, with nothing standing but his foremast. Like 
 us, he was running off, though we went three feet to his two. 
 Half an hour later we had the awful sight before our eyes 
 of witnessing the sudden disappearance of an English brig. 
 She was lying-to, directly on our course, and I was looking 
 at her from the windlass, trying to form some opinion as to 
 the expediency of our luffing-to, in order to hold our own. 
 Of a sudden, this brig gave a plunge, and she went down 
 like a porpoise diving. What caused this disaster I never 
 knew; but in five minutes we passed as near as possible 
 over the spot, and not a trace of her was to be seen. I 
 could not discover so much as a handspike floating, though 
 I looked with intense anxiety, in the hope of picking up 
 some fellow-creature clinging to a spar. As for stopping to 
 examine, one who did not understand the language might as 
 well hope to read the German character on a milestone 
 while flying past it in a railroad car. 
 
 At noon, precisely, away went our foretopsail out of the 
 gaskets. One fastening sijapped after another, until the 
 whole sail was adrift. The tugs that this large sheet of 
 canvas gave upon the spars, as it shook in the wind, threat- 
 
 91 
 
322 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ened to jerk the foremast out of the ship. They lasted 
 about three minutes, when, after a report almost as loud as 
 that of a small piece of ordnance, the sail split in ribbons. 
 Ten minutes later our main-topsail went. This sail left us 
 it might be bodily, and I actually thought that a gun of dis- 
 tress was fired near us by some vessel that was unseen. The 
 bolt-rope was left set; the sheets, earings, and reef points 
 all holding on, the cloth tearing at a single rent around the 
 four sides of the sail. The scene that followed I scarcely 
 know how to describe. The torn part of the main-topsail 
 flew forward and caught in the after part of the foretop, 
 where it stood spread, as one might say, held by the top, 
 cat-harpins, rigging, and other obstacles. This was the 
 feather to break the camel's back. Bolt after bolt of the 
 fore-rigging drew or broke, each parting with a loud report, 
 and away went everything belonging to the foremast over 
 the bows from the deck up. The main-topmast was dragged 
 down by this fearful pull, and that brought the mizzen-top- 
 gallant-mast after it. The pitching of so much hamper 
 under the bows of the ship, while her after-masts stood, 
 threw the stern round, in spite of the manner in which 
 Marble steered; and the ship broached-to. In doing this, 
 the sea made a fair breach over her, sweeping the deck of 
 even the launch and caboose, and carrying all the lee bul- 
 warks in the waist with them. Neb was in the launch at 
 the time hunting for some article kept there; and the last I 
 saw of the poor fellow he was standing erect in the bows of 
 the boat, as the latter drove over the vessel's side, on the 
 summit of a wave, like a bubble floating in a furious cur- 
 rent. Diogenes, it seems, had that moment gone to his 
 caboose to look after the plain dinner he was trying to boil, 
 when probably seizing the iron as the most solid object 
 near him, he was carried overboard with it, and never reap- 
 peared. Marble was in a tolerably safe part of the vessel, 
 at the wheel, and he kept his feet, though the water rose 
 above his waist; as high, indeed, as his arms. As for my- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 323 
 
 self, I was saved only by the main-rigging, into which I was 
 driven, and where I lodged. 
 
 I could not but admire the coolness and conduct of 
 Marble even at that terrific moment ! In the first place, he 
 put the helm hard down, and lashed the wheel, the wisest 
 thing that could be done by men in our situation. This he 
 did by means of that nautical instinct which enables a sea- 
 man to act, in the direst emergencies, almost without reflec- 
 tion, or as one closes his eyes to avoid danger to the pupils. 
 Then he gave one glance at the state of things inboard, 
 running forward with the end of a rope to throw to Diogenes 
 should the cook rise near the ship. By the time he was 
 satisfied the hope of doing anything in that way was vain, I 
 was on deck, and we two stood facing each other in the midst 
 of the scene of desolation and ruin that was around us. 
 Marble caught my hand with a look that spoke as plainly 
 as words. It told me the joy he felt at seeing I was spared, 
 his determination to stick by me to the last; yet, how low 
 were his hopes of ultimate preservation! It was such a 
 look as any man would be glad to receive from a comrade 
 in the heat of battle ; nevertheless, it was not a look that 
 promised victory. 
 
 The situation of the ship would now have been much bet- 
 ter than it had been in many respects were it not for the 
 wreck. All the masts forward had gone over the lee-bow, 
 and would have lain in a sufficiently favorable situation for 
 a strong crew to get rid of them ; but in our case we were 
 compelled to let things take their course. It is true, we 
 could cut away, and this we began to do pretty freely, but 
 the lower end of the foremast lay on the forecastle, where it 
 was grinding everything near it to pieces with the heaving 
 and setting of the waves. All the bulwarks in that part of 
 the ship threatened soon to be beaten down, and I felt afraid 
 the cathead would be torn vio4ently out of the ship, leaving 
 a bad leak. Leaks enough there were as it was; the launch, 
 caboose, water-casks, and spare spars, in driving overboard, 
 
324 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 having forced out timber-heads, and other supports in a way 
 to split the plank sheer, which let in the water fast every 
 time the lee gunwale went under. I gave up my sugars and 
 coffees from the first, bringing my hopes down as low as the 
 saving of the ship, the instant I saw the state of the upper 
 works. 
 
 Marble and I had not been educated in a school that is 
 apt to despair. As for my mate, had he found himself on a 
 plank in the middle of thCiAtlantic, I do believe he would 
 have set about rigging a jury-mast, by splitting off a piece 
 of the hull of his craft and spreading his shirt by way of 
 sail. I rtever knew a more in-and-in-bred seaman, who, 
 when one resource failed, invariably set about the next best 
 visible expedient. We were at a loss, however, whether to 
 make an effort to get rid of the foremast or not. With the 
 exception of the damages it did on the forecastle, it was of 
 use to us, keeping the ship's bow up to the wind, and mak- 
 ing better weather for us on deck. The after-masts stand- 
 ing, while those forward were gone, had the effect to press 
 the stern of the vessel to leeward, while this support in the 
 water prevented her bows from falling off, and we rode 
 much nearer to the wind than is usual with a ship that is 
 lying-to. It is true, the outer end of the fallen spars began 
 to drive to leeward; and, acting as a long lever, they were 
 gradually working the broken end of the foremast athwart 
 the forecastle, ripping and tearing away everything on the 
 gunwale and threatening the foot of the main-stay. This 
 made it desirable to be rid of the wreck, while, on the other 
 hand, there was the danger of the ship's bottom beating 
 against the end of the mast, did the latter get overboard. 
 Under all these circumstances, however, we determined to 
 cut as much of the gear as possible and let the fallen spars 
 work themselves clear of us if they could. 
 
 Our job was by no means easy. It was difficult to stand 
 even on the deck of the Dawn in a time like that, and this 
 difficulty was greatly increased forward by having so little 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 325 
 
 to hold on by. But work we did, and in a way that cleared 
 most of the rigging from the ship in the course of the next 
 half hour. We were encouraged by the appearances of the 
 weather too, the gale having broken, and promising to abate. 
 The ship grew a little easier, I thought, and we moved about 
 with more confidence of not being washed away by the seas 
 that came on board us. After a time, we took some refresh- 
 ments, eating the remains of a former meal, and cheered our 
 hearts a little with a glass or two of good sherry. Temper- 
 ance may be very useful, but so is a glass of good wine, 
 when properly used. Then we went at it again, working 
 with a will and with spirit. The wreck aft wanted very 
 little to carry it over the side, and going aloft with an axe, 
 I watched my opportunity, cut one or two of the shrouds 
 and stays, just as the ship lurched heavily to leeward, and 
 got rid of the whole in the sea handsomely, without further 
 injury to the ship. This was a good deliverance, the man- 
 ner in which the spars had threshed about having menaced 
 our lives before. We now attacked the wreck forward, for 
 the last time, feeling certain we should get it adrift could 
 we sever the connection formed by one or two of the larger 
 ropes. The lee-shrouds in particular gave us trouble, it 
 being impossible to get at them in-board, the fore-channels 
 being half the time under water, and the bulwarks in their 
 wake being all gone. It was, in fact impossible to stand 
 there to work long enough to clear or cut all the lanyards. 
 Marble was an adventurous fellow aloft on all occasons, 
 and seeing good footing about the top, without saying a 
 word to me, he seized an axe, and literally ran out on the 
 mast, where he began to cut the collars of the rigging at the 
 mast-head. This was soon done, but the spars were no 
 sooner clear than, impelled by a wave that nearly drowned 
 the mate, the end of the foremast slid off the forecastle into 
 the sea, leaving the ship ^^irtually clear of the wreck, but 
 my mate adrift on the last; I say virtually clear, for the 
 lee fore-topsail-brace still remained fast to the ship by some 
 
326 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 oversight in clearing away the smaller ropes. The effect of 
 this restraint was to cause the whole body of the wreck to 
 swing slowly round, until it rode by this rope alone. 
 
 Here was a new and a most serious state of things! I 
 knew that my mate would do all that man could perform, 
 situated as he was, but what man could swim against such 
 a sea, even the short distance that interposed between the 
 spars and the ship? The point of the wreck nearest the 
 vessel was the end of the topsail-yard, to which the brace 
 led, and this was raised from the water by the strain (the 
 other end of the brace leading aloft) fathoms at a time, ren- 
 dering it extremely difficult for Marble to reach the rope, 
 by means of which I could now see, notwithstanding all the 
 difficulties, he hoped to regain the vessel. The voice could 
 be heard by one directly to leeward, the howling of the 
 winds and the roar of the waters having materially lessened 
 within the last few hours. I shouted to Marble, therefore, 
 my intentions. 
 
 " Stand by to get the brace as I ease it off in-board," I 
 cried; "then you will be safe! " 
 
 The mate understood me, giving a gesture of assent with 
 his arm. When both were ready, I eased off the rope sud- 
 denly, and Marble, partly by crawling and partly by floating 
 and dragging himself by the hands, actually got to the yard- 
 arm, which was immediately raised from the water, however, 
 by the drift made by the spars, while he was achieving his 
 object. I trembled as I saw this stout seaman, the water 
 dripping from his clothes, thus elevated in the air, with the 
 angry billows rolling beneath him, like lions leaping up- 
 ward to catch the adventurer in their grasp. Marble^s hand 
 was actually extended to reach the brace, when its block 
 gave way with the strain. The eye of the strap slipping 
 from the yard, down went the spar into the water. Next the 
 trough of the sea hid everything from my sight, and I was 
 left in the most painful doubt of the result, when I perceived 
 the mate lashing himself to the top, as the portion of the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 32/ 
 
 wreck that floated the most buoyantly. He had managed to 
 get in again, and coolly went to work to secure himself in 
 the best berth he could find, the instant he regained the 
 main mass of the wreck. As he rose on the crest of the sea, 
 the poor fellow made a gesture of adieu to me, the leave- 
 taking of the mariner! 
 
 In this manner did it please divine Providence to separate 
 us four, who had already gone through so much in company ! 
 With what moody melancholy did I watch the wreck as it 
 slowly drifted from the ship. I no longer thought of mak- 
 ing further efforts to save the Dawn, and I can truly say, 
 that scarce a thought in connection with my own life crossed 
 my mind. There I stood for quite an hour, leaning against 
 the foot of the mizzenmast, with folded arms and riveted 
 eyes, regardless of the pitches, and lurches, and rolling of 
 the ship, with all my faculties and thought fastened on the 
 form of Marble, expecting each time that the top rose to 
 view to find it empty. He was too securely lashed, how- 
 ever, to strike adrift, though he was nearly half the time 
 under water. It was impossible to do anything to save him. 
 No boat was left; had there been one, it could not have 
 lived, nor could I have managed it alone. Spars he had 
 already, but what must become of him without food or 
 water? I threw two breakers of the last into the sea, and a 
 box of bread, in a sort of idle hope they might drift down 
 near the wreck, and help to prolong the sufferer's life. 
 They were all tossed about in the cauldron of the ocean, 
 and disappeared to leeward, I knew not whither. When 
 Marble was no longer visible from deck, I went into the 
 main-top and watched the mass of spars and rigging, so 
 long as any portion of it could be seen. Then I set it by 
 compass, in order to know its bearing, and an hour before 
 the sun went down, or as soon as the diminished power of 
 the wind would permit, I showed an ensign aloft, as a signal 
 that I bore my mate in mind. 
 
 " He knows I will not desert him as long as there is hope 
 
328 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 — SO long as I have life!" I muttered to myself; and this 
 thought was a relief to my mind in that bitter moment. 
 
 Bitter moment, truly! Time has scarcely lessened the 
 keenness of the sensations I endured as memory traces the 
 feelings and incidents of that day. From the hour when I 
 sailed from home, Lucy's image was seldom absent from my 
 imagination ten minutes at a time; I thought of her, sleep- 
 ing and waking; in all my troubles; the interest of the sea- 
 fight I had seen could not prevent this recurrnece of my 
 ideas to their polar star, their powerful magnet; but I do 
 not remember to have thought of Lucy even once after 
 Marble was thus carried away from my side. Neb, too, 
 with his patient servitude, his virtues, his faults, his daunt- 
 less courage, his unbounded devotion to myself, had taken 
 a strong hold on my heart, and his loss had greatly troubled 
 me since the time it occurred. But I remember to have 
 thought much of Lucy, even after Neb was swept away, 
 though her image became temporarily lost to my mind dur- 
 ing the first few hours I was thus separated from Marble. 
 
 By the time the sun set, the wind had so far abated, and 
 the sea had gone down so much as to remove all further 
 apprehensions from the gale. The ship lay-to easily, and 
 I had no occasion to give myself any trouble on her account. 
 Had there been light, I should now have put the helm up 
 and run to leeward, in the hope of finding the spars, and at 
 least of keeping near Marble ; but fearful of passing him in 
 the darkness, I deferred that duty until the morning. All I 
 could do was to watch the weather in order to make this 
 effort before the wind should shift. 
 
 What a night I passed ! As soon as it was dark, I sounded 
 the pumps, and found six feet of water in the hold. It was 
 idle for one man to attempt clearing a vessel of the Dawn's 
 size ; and I gave myself no further thought in the matter. 
 So much injury had been done the upper works of the ship 
 that I had a sort of conviction she must go down, unless 
 fallen in with by some other craft. I cannot say apprehen- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 329 
 
 sion for my own fate troubled me any, or that I thought of 
 the ruin to my fortunes that was involved in the loss of the 
 ship. My mind reverted constantly to my companions; 
 could I have recovered them, I should have been happy, for 
 a time at least. 
 
 I slept two or three hours toward morning, overcome with 
 fatigue. When I awoke, it was in consequence of receiving 
 the sun's rays in my face. Springing to my feet, I cast a 
 confused and hurried glance around me. The wind was 
 still at northeast, but it barely blew a good whole-sail 
 breeze. The sea had gone down to the regular roll of the 
 ocean ; and a finer day never shone upon the Atlantic. I 
 hurried eagerly on deck and gazed on the ocean to leeward 
 with longing eyes, to ascertain if anything could be seen of 
 the wreck of our spars. Nothing was visible. From the 
 main-top I could command a pretty wide horizon; but the 
 ocean lay a bright, glittering blank, the crests of its own 
 waves excepted. I felt certain the Dawn was so weatherly 
 that the spars were to leeward; but the ship must have 
 forged miles ahead during the last twelve hours; and there 
 was almost the equal certainty of her being a long distance 
 to the southward of the floating hamper, her head having 
 lain in that direction since the time she broached-to. To 
 get her off before the wind, then, was my first concern, after 
 which I could endeavor to force her to the northward, run- 
 ning the chance of falling in with the spars. Could I find 
 my mate, we might still die together, which would have 
 been a melancholy consolation just then. 
 
330 
 
 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Father of all ! In every age, 
 
 In every clime, adored ; 
 By saint, by savage, or by sage — 
 
 Jehovah ! Jove ! or Lord ! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Feeling the necessity of possessing all my strength, I 
 ate a breakfast before I commenced work. It was with a 
 heavy heart and but little appetite that I took this solitary 
 meal ; but I felt that its effects were good. When finished, 
 I knelt on the deck, and prayed to God, fervently, asking 
 his divine assistance in my extremity. Why should an old 
 man, whose race is nearly run, hesitate to own, that in the 
 pride of his youth and strength he was made to feel how in- 
 sufficient we all are for our wants ? Yes, I prayed ; and I 
 hope in a fitting spirit, for I felt that this spiritual susten- 
 ance did me more good than the material of which I had 
 just before partaken. When I rose from my knees, it was 
 with a sense of hope that I endeavored to suppress a little, 
 as both unreasonable and dangerous. Perhaps the spirit of 
 my sainted sister was permitted to look down on me in that 
 awful strait, and to offer up its own pure petitions in behalf 
 of a brother she had so warmly loved. I began to feel my- 
 self less alone, and the work advanced the better from this 
 mysterious sort of consciousness of the presence of the souls 
 of those who had felt an interest in me while in the body. 
 
 My first measure was to lead the jib-stay, which had parted 
 near the head of its own mast, to the head of the mainmast. 
 This I did by bending on a piece of another rope. I then 
 got up the halyards and loosened and set the jib; a job 
 that consumed quite two hours. Of course, this sail did not 
 set very well, but it was the only mode I had of getting for- 
 ward canvas on the ship at all. As soon as the jib was set 
 in this imperfect manner, I put the helm up, and got the 
 ship before the wind. I then hauled out the spanker and 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 33 1 
 
 gave it sheet. By these means, aided by the action of the 
 breeze on the hull and spars, I succeeded in getting some- 
 thing like three knots' way on the ship, keeping off a little 
 northerly, in which direction I felt sensible it was neces- 
 sary to proceed in quest of the spars. I estimated the drift 
 of the wreck at a knot an hour, including the good and 
 moderate weather; and, allowing for that of the ship itself, 
 I supposed it must be, by that time, some twelve miles to 
 leeward of me. These twelve miles I managed to run by 
 noon, when I hauled up sufficiently to bring the wind abeam, 
 heading northwardly. As the ship would now steer herself, 
 that is as small as it was necessary for me to go, I collected 
 some food, took a glass, and went up into the main-top to 
 dine and to examine the ocean. 
 
 The anxious, anxious hours I passed in that top! Not an 
 object of any sort appeared on the surface of the wide ocean. 
 It seemed as if the birds and the fishes had abandoned me 
 to my loneliness. I watched and examined the surrounding 
 sea, until my hands were tired with holding the glass, and my 
 eyes became weary with their office. Fortunately, the breeze 
 stood, though the sea went down fast, giving me every op- 
 portunity I could desire of effecting my object. The ship 
 yawed about a good deal, it is true, but on the whole she 
 made a very tolerable course. I could see by the water 
 that she had a motion of about two knots for most of the 
 time, though, as the day advanced, the wind began to fall, 
 and her rate of going diminished quite one half. 
 
 At length, after passing hours aloft, I went below to look 
 after things there. On sounding the pumps I found ten feet 
 water in the hold, though the upper works were now not at 
 all submerged, and the motion of the vessel was very easy. 
 That the Dawn was gradually sinking under me was a fact 
 too evident to be denied; and all the concerns of this life 
 began to narrow into a cirtle of some four-and-twenty hours. 
 That time the ship would probably float, possibly a little 
 longer should the weather continue moderate. The wind 
 
332 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 was decreasing still, and, thinking I might have a tranquil 
 night, I determined to pass that time in preparing for the 
 last great change. I had no will to make — little to leave, 
 indeed, after my vessel was gone ; for the debt due to John 
 Wallingford would go far toward absorbing all my property. 
 When his $40,000 were paid under a forced sale, little, in- 
 deed, would be the residue. 
 
 The state of things would have been somewhat different 
 under a fair sale, perhaps, but a forced sale would probably 
 sweep away everything. It is true my creditor was my heir; 
 for, a legacy to Lucy and a few bequests to my slaves ex- 
 cepted, I had fairly bequeathed all I owned to my cousin. 
 As for the blacks themselves, under the new policy of New 
 York, they would soon be free ; and I had no other interest 
 in their fate than that of habit and affection. 
 
 But why speak of property in the situation in which I was 
 placed? Had I owned the whole of Ulster county, my 
 wishes, or any new will I might make, must die with me. 
 The ocean would soon engulf the whole. Had I no desire 
 to make an effort to save myself, or at least to prolong my 
 existence, by means of a raft? — of boat there was none in 
 the ship. The English had the yawl, and the launch had 
 been driven away. The spare spars were swept overboard, 
 as well as all the water-casks that had been lashed on deck. 
 I might have done something with the hatches and mizzen- 
 topmast, possibly, could I have gotten the last into the 
 water, but the expedient was so desperate it did not hold 
 out any hopes to be encouraged. Even the handspikes had 
 gone in the launch, and two of the buoys had been left with 
 the anchors on the Irish coast. Under all the circum- 
 stances, it appeared to me that it would be more manly and 
 resigned to meet my fate at once than to attempt any such 
 feeble projects to prolong existence for a few hours. I 
 came to the resolution, therefore, to go down in my ship. 
 
 What was there to make life particularly dear to me ^ My 
 home, my much-beloved Clawbonny, must go at all events; 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 333 
 
 and I will own that a feeling of bitter distrust crossed my 
 mind as I thought of these things, and that I began to fancy 
 John Wallingford might have urged me to borrow his money, 
 expressly to obtain a chance of seizing an estate that was 
 so much prized by every Wallingford. I suppressed this 
 feeling, however, and in a clear voice I asked my cousin's 
 pardon, the same as if he had been within hearing. Of 
 Lucy, I had no longer any hope; Grace was already in 
 heaven; and the world contained few that cared for me. 
 After Mr. Hardinge, Lucy always excepted, I now loved 
 Marble and Neb the most, and these two were probably both 
 dead, or doomed, like myself. We must all yield up our 
 lives once; and though my hour came rather early, it should 
 be met as a man meets everything, even to death itself. 
 
 Some time before the sun set, I went aloft to take a last 
 look at the ocean. I do not think any desire to prolong my 
 existence carried me up the mast, but there was a lingering 
 wish to look after my mate. The ocean beamed gloriously 
 that eventide, and I fancied that it was faintly reflecting the 
 gracious countenance of its divine Creator, in a smile of 
 beneficent love. I felt my heart soften, as I gazed around 
 me, and I fancied heavenly music was singing the praises 
 of God on the face of the great deep. Then I knelt in the 
 top and prayed. 
 
 Rising, I looked at the ocean, as I supposed, for the last 
 time. Not a sail was anywhere to be seen. I cannot say 
 that I felt disappointed — I did not expect relief from that 
 quarter. My object was to find my mate, that we might die 
 together. Slowly I raised the glass, and the horizon was 
 swept with deliberation. Nothing appeared. I had shut 
 the glass, and was about to sling it, when my eye caught 
 the appearance of something floating on the surface of the 
 ocean, within a mile of the ship well to leeward, and ahead. 
 I had overlooked it, in Consequence of ranging above it 
 with the glass, in the desire to sweep the horizon. I could 
 not be mistaken ; it was the wreck. In a moment the glass 
 
334 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 was levelled, and I assured myself of the fact. The top was 
 plainly visible, floating quite high above the surface, and 
 portions of the yards and masts were occasionally seen, as 
 the undulations of the ocean left them bare. I saw an ob- 
 ject, lying motionless across the top-rim, which I supposed 
 to be Marble. He was either dead or asleep. 
 
 What a revulsion of feeling came over me at this sight! 
 A minute before, and I was completely isolated; cut off 
 from the rest of my species, and resigned to a fate that 
 seemed to command my quitting this state of being, without 
 further communion with mankind. Everything was changed. 
 Here was the companion of so many former dangers, the 
 man who had taught me my profession, one that I can truly 
 say I loved, quite near me, and possibly dying for the want 
 of that aid which I might render! I was on deck in the 
 twinkling of an eye ; the sheets were eased off, and the helm 
 put up. Obedient to my wishes, the ship fell off, and I 
 soon got a glimpse, from the spot where I stood, at the wheel, 
 of the wreck a little clear of the weather cathead. By this 
 time, the wind was so light, and the ship had got to be so 
 deep in the water, that the motion of the last was very slow. 
 Even with the helm up, it scarce equalled half a knot; I 
 began to fear I should not be able to reach my goal, after 
 alH 
 
 There were now intervals of dead calm ; then the air would 
 return in little puffs, urging the great mass heavily onward. 
 I whistled, I prayed, I called aloud for wind ; in short, I 
 adopted all the expedients known, from that of the most 
 vulgar nautical superstition, up to profound petitions to the 
 Father of Mercies. I presume all this brought no change, 
 though the passage of time did. About half an hour before 
 the sun dipped into the ocean, the ship was within a hun- 
 dred yards of the wreck. This I could ascertain by stolen 
 glances, for the direction I was now compelled to steer 
 placed the forward part of the ship between me and my ob- 
 ject, and I did not dare quit the wheel to go forward, lest I 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 335 
 
 should miss it altogether. I had prepared a grapnel, by 
 placing a small kedge in the lee-waist, with a hawser bent, 
 and, could I come within a few feet of the floating hamper, 
 I felt confident of being able to hook into something. It 
 appeared to me, now, as if the ship absolutely refused to 
 move. Go ahead she did, notwithstanding, though it was 
 only her own length in five or six minutes. My hasty glances 
 told me that two more of these lengths would effect my pur- 
 pose. I scarce breathed, lest the vessel should not be steered 
 with sufficient accuracy. It was strange to me that Marble 
 did not hail, and, fancying him asleep, I shouted with all 
 my energy, in order to arouse him. " What a joyful sound 
 that will be in his ears/' I thought to myself, though to me, 
 my own voice seemed unearthly and alarming. No answer 
 came. Then I felt a slight shock, as if the cut -water had 
 hit something, and a low scraping sound against the copper 
 announced that the ship had hit the wreck. Quitting the 
 wheel, I sprang into the waist, raising the kedge in my 
 arms. Then came the upper spars wheeling strongly round, 
 under the pressure of the vessel's bottom against the ex- 
 tremity of the lower mast. I saw nothing but the great maze 
 of hamper and wreck, and could scarcely breathe in the 
 anxiety not to miss my aim. There was much reason to fear 
 the whole mass would float aft, leaving me no chance of 
 throwing the kedge, for the smaller masts no longer inclined 
 in, and I could see that the ship and wreck were slowly sep- 
 arating. A low thump on the bottom, directly beneath me, 
 drew my head over the side, and I found the fore-yard, as 
 it might be, a-cockbill, with one end actually scraping along 
 the ship's bottom. It was the only chance I had, or was 
 likely to have, and I threw the kedge athwart it. Luckily, 
 the hawser, as it tautened, brought a fluke directly under the 
 yard, within the Flemish horse, the brace-block, and all the 
 other ropes that are fitted*to a lower yard-arm. So slow was 
 the motion of the ship, that my grapnel held, and the entire 
 body of the wreck began to yield to the pressure. I now 
 
336 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 jumped to the jib halyards and down-haul, getting that sail 
 reduced; then I half-brailed the spanker; this was done 
 lest my hold on the yard should give way. 
 
 I can say, that up to this instant, I had not even looked 
 for Marble. So intense had been my apprehensions of miss- 
 ing the wreck, that I thought of nothing else, could see noth- 
 ing else. Satisfied, however, that my fast would hold, I ran 
 forward to look down on the top, that the strain of the haw- 
 ser had brought directly under the very bow, over which it 
 had fallen. It was empty! The object I had mistaken for 
 Marble, dead or asleep, was a part of the bunt of the main- 
 topsail, that had been hauled down over the top-rim, and 
 secured there, either to form a sort of shelter against the 
 breaking seas, or a bed. Whatever may have been the 
 intention of this nest, it no longer had an occupant. Mar- 
 ble had probably been washed away, in one of his adven- 
 turous efforts to make himself more secure or more comfort- 
 able. 
 
 The disappointment that came over me, as I ascertained 
 this fact, was scarcely less painful than the anguish I had 
 felt when I first saw my mate carried off into the ocean. 
 There would have been a melancholy satisfaction in finding 
 his body, that we might have gone to the bottom together, 
 at least, and thus have slept in a common grave, in the 
 depths of that ocean over which we had sailed so many 
 thousands of leagues in company. I went and threw myself 
 on the deck, regardless of my own fate, and wept in very 
 bitterness of heart. I had arranged a mattress on the quar- 
 ter-deck, and it was on that I now threw myself. Fatigue 
 overcame me, in the end, and I fell into a deep sleep. As 
 my recollection left me, my last thought was that I should 
 go down with the ship, as I lay there. So complete was the 
 triumph of nature, that I did not even dream. I do not re- 
 member ever to have enjoyed more profound and refreshing 
 slumbers; slumbers that continued until returning light 
 awoke me. To that night's rest I am probably indebted, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 337 
 
 under God, for having the means of relating these adven- 
 tures. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that the night had been 
 tranquil; otherwise, a seaman's ears would have given him 
 the alarm. When I arose, I found the ocean glittering like 
 a mirror, with no other motion than that which has so often 
 been likened to the slumbering respiration of some huge 
 animal. The wreck was thumping against the ship's bot- 
 tom, announcing its presence, before I left the mattress. 
 Of wind there was literally not a breath. Once in a while, 
 the ship would seem to come up to breathe, as a heavy 
 ground-swell rolled along her sides, and the wash of the 
 element told the circumstance of such a visit; else, all was 
 as still as the ocean in its infancy. I knelt again, and 
 prayed to that dread Being, with whom, it now appeared to 
 me, I stood alone, in the centre of the universe. 
 
 Down to the moment when I arose from my knees, the 
 thought of making an effort to save myself, or to try to pro- 
 long existence a few hours, by means of the wreck, did not 
 occur to me. But when I came to look about me, to note 
 the tranquil condition of the ocean, and to heed the chances, 
 small as they were, that offered, the love of life was renewed 
 within me, and I seriously set about the measures necessary 
 to such an end. 
 
 The first step was to sound the pumps anew. The water 
 had not gained in the night as rapidly as it had gained 
 throughout the preceding day. But it had gained; there 
 being three feet more of it than when I last sounded — the 
 infallible evidence of the existence of a leak that no means 
 of mine could stop. It was, then, hopeless to think of sav- 
 ing the ship. She had settled in the water, already, so as 
 to bring the lower bolts of both fore and main-channels 
 awash; and I supposed she might float for four-and-twenty 
 hours longer, unless an iirjury that I had discovered under 
 the larboard cathead, and which had been received from the 
 wreck, should sooner get under water. It appeared to me 
 
 22 
 
338 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 that a butt had been started there ; such a leak would cer- 
 tainly hasten the fate of the vessel by some hours, should it 
 come fairly into the account. 
 
 Having made this calculation as to the time I had to do 
 it in, I set seriously about the job of making provisions with 
 my raft. In one or two particulars, I could not much im- 
 prove the latter ; for, the yards lying underneath the masts, 
 it rendered the last as buoyant as was desirable in moderate 
 weather. It struck me, however, that by getting the topgal- 
 lant and royal-masts, with their yards, in, around the top, I 
 might rig a staging, with the aid of the hatches, that would 
 not only keep me entirely out of water, in mild weather, but 
 which would contain all one man could consume, in the way 
 of victuals and drink, for a month to come. To this object, 
 then, I next gave my attention. 
 
 I had no great difficulty in getting the spars I have men- 
 tioned, loose, and in hauling them alongside of the top. It 
 was a job that required time rather than strength; for my 
 movements were greatly facilitated by the presence of the 
 topmast-rigging, which remained in its place, almost as taut 
 as when upright. The other rigging I cut, and having got 
 out the fids of the two masts, one at a time, I pushed the 
 spars through their respective caps with a foot. Of course, 
 I was obliged to get into the water to work; but I had 
 thrown aside most of my clothes for the occasion, and the 
 weather being warm, I felt greatly refreshed with my bath. 
 In two hours' time I had my topgallant-mast and yard well 
 secured to the top-rim and the caps, having sawed them in 
 pieces for the purpose. The fastenings were both spikes 
 and lashings, the carpenter's stores furnishing plenty of the 
 former, as well as all sorts of tools. 
 
 This part of the arrangement completed, I ate a hearty 
 breakfast, when I began to secure the hatches, as a sort of 
 floor, on my primitive joists. This was not difficult, the 
 hatches being long, and the rings enabling me to lash them, 
 as well as to spike them. Long before the sun had reached 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 339 
 
 the meridian, I had a stout little platform, that was quite 
 eighteen inches above the water, and which was surrounded 
 by a species of low ridge-ropes, so placed as to keep articles 
 from readily tumbling off it. The next measure was to cut 
 all the sails from the yards, and to cut loose all the rigging 
 and iron that did not serve to keep the wreck together. The 
 reader can easily imagine how much more buoyancy I ob- 
 tained by these expedients. The foresail alone weighed 
 much more than I did myself, with all the stores I might 
 have occasion to put on my platform. As for the fore-topsail, 
 there was little of it left, the canvas having mostly blown 
 from the yard before the mast went. 
 
 My raft was completed by the time I felt the want of din- 
 ner; and a very good raft it was. The platform was about 
 ten feet square, and it now floated quite two feet clear of the 
 water. This was not much for a sea; but after the late vio- 
 lent gale, I had some reason to expect a continuation of 
 comparatively good weather. I should not have been a true 
 seaman not to have bethought me of a mast and a sail. I 
 saved the fore-royal-mast, and the yard, with its canvas, for 
 such a purpose; determining to rig them when I had noth- 
 ing else to do. I then ate my dinner, which consisted of 
 the remnants of the old cold meat and fowls I could find 
 among the cabin eatables. 
 
 This meal taken, the duty that came next was to provision 
 my raft. It took but little time or labor. The cabin stores 
 were quite accessible; and a bag of pilot-bread, another of 
 that peculiarly American invention, called crackers, some 
 smoked beef, a case of liquors, and two breakers of water, 
 formed my principal stock. To this I added a pot of but- 
 ter, with some capital smoked herrings, and some anchovies. 
 We lived well in the cabin of the Dawn, and there was no 
 difficulty in making all the provision that six or eight men 
 would have needed for alnonth. Perceiving that the raft, 
 now it was relieved from the weight of the sails and rigging, 
 was not much affected by the stores, I began to look about 
 
340 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 me in quest of anything valuable I might wish to save. 
 The preparations I had been making created a sort of confi- 
 dence in their success; a confidence (hope might be the bet- 
 ter word) that was as natural, perhaps, as it was unreason- 
 able. I examined the different objects that offered, with a 
 critical comparison of their value and future usefulness, that 
 would have been absurd, had it not afforded a melancholy 
 proof of the tenacity of our desires in matters of this nature. 
 It is certainly a sad thing to abandon a ship at sea, with all 
 her appliances, and with a knowledge of the gold that she 
 cost. The Dawn, with her cargo, must have stood me in 
 eighty thousand dollars, or even more; and here was I about 
 to quit her, out on the ocean, with an almost moral cer- 
 tainty that not a cent of the money could be, or would be, 
 recovered from the insurers. These last only took risks 
 against the accidents of the ocean, fire included; and there 
 was a legal obligation on the insured to see that the vessel 
 was properly found and manned. It was my own opinion 
 that no accident would have occurred to the ship, in the late 
 gale, had the full crew been on board; and that the ship 
 was not sufficiently manned was, in a legal sense, my own 
 fault. I was bound to let the English carry her into port, 
 and to await judgment — the law supposing that justice 
 would have been done in the premises. The law might have 
 been greatly mistaken in this respect; but the potentates 
 never acknowledge their blunders. If I was wronged in the 
 detention, the law presumed suitable damages. It is true, 
 I might be ruined by the delay, through the debts left be- 
 hind me; but the law, with all its purity, cared nothing for 
 that. Could I have shown a loss by means of a falling 
 market, I might have obtained redress, provided the court 
 chose to award it, and provided the party did not appeal; 
 or, if he did, that the subsequent decisions supported the 
 first; and provided — all the decrees being in my favor — 
 my Lord Harry Dermond could have paid a few thousands 
 in damages; a problem to be solved in itself. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 34 1 
 
 I always carried to sea with me a handsome chest, that I 
 had bought in one of my earlier voyages, and which usually 
 contained my money, clothes, and other valuables. This 
 chest I managed to get on deck, by the aid of a purchase, 
 and over the ship's side, on the raft. It was much the most 
 troublesome task I had undertaken. To this I added my 
 writing-desk, a mattress, two or three counterpanes, and a 
 few other light articles, which it struck me might be of use 
 — but which I could cast into the sea at any moment, should 
 it become necessary. When all this was done, I conceived 
 that my useful preparations were closed. 
 
 It was near night, and I felt sufficiently fatigued to lie 
 down and sleep. The water had gained very slowly during 
 the last few hours, but the ship was now swimming so low, 
 that I thought it unsafe to remain in the vessel, while asleep. 
 I determined, therefore, to take my leave of her, and go on 
 the raft for that purpose. It struck me, too, it might be un- 
 safe to be too near the vessel when she went down, and I 
 had barely time to get the spars a short distance from the 
 ship, before darkness would come. Still, I was unwilling 
 to abandon the Dawn altogether, since the spars that stood 
 on board her would always be a more available signal to 
 any passing vessel, than the low sail I could set on the raft. 
 Should she float during the succeeding day they would in 
 crease the chances of a rescue and they offered an advantage 
 not to be lightly thrown away. 
 
 To force the spars away from the ship was not an easy 
 task of itself. There is an attraction in matter, that is 
 known to bring vessels nearer together in calms, and I had 
 this principle of nature first to overcome; then to neutralize 
 it, without the adequate means of doing either. Still I was 
 very strong, and possessed all the resources of a seaman. 
 The raft, too, now its length was reduced, was much more 
 manageable than it had b«en originally, and in rummaging 
 about the 'twixt-decks I had found a set of oars belonging 
 to the launch, which had been stowed in the steerage, and 
 
342 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 which of course were preserved. These I had taken to the 
 raft, to strengthen my staging, or deck, and two of them had 
 been reserved for the very purpose to which they were now 
 applied. 
 
 Cutting away the kedge, then, and casting off the other 
 ropes I had used with which to breast-to the raft, I began 
 to shove off, just as the sun was dipping. So long as I 
 could pull by the ship, I did very well, for I adopted the 
 expedient of hauling astern, instead of pushing broad off, 
 under the notion that I might get a better drift, if quite 
 from under the lee of the vessel, than if lying on her broad- 
 side. I say the " lee," though there wasn't a breath of air, 
 nor scarcely any motion of the water. I had a line fast to a 
 stern-davit, and placing myself with my feet braced against 
 the chest, I soon overcame the vis inertice of the spars, and, 
 exerting all my force, when it was once in motion, I suc- 
 ceeded in giving the raft an impetus that carried it com- 
 pletely past the ship. I confess I felt no personal appre- 
 hension from the suction, supposing the ship to sink while 
 the raft was in absolute contact with it, but the agitation of 
 the water might weaken its parts, or it might wash most of 
 my stores away. This last consideration induced me, now, 
 to go to work with the oars, and try to do all I could, by that 
 mode of propelling my dull craft. I worked hard just one 
 hour, by my watch ; at the expiration of that time, the near- 
 est end of the raft, or the lower part of the foremast, was 
 about a hundred yards from the Dawn's taffrail. This was 
 a slow movement, and did not fail to satisfy me, that, if I 
 were to be saved at all, it would be by means of some pass- 
 ing vessel, and not by my own progress. 
 
 Overcome by fatigue, I now lay down and slept. I took 
 no precautions against the wind's rising in the night; firstly, 
 because I thought it impossible from the tranquil aspects of 
 the heavens and the ocean; and secondly, because I felt no 
 doubt that the wash of the water and the sound of the winds 
 would arouse me, should it occur differently. As on the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 343 
 
 previous night, I slept sweetly, and obtained renewed 
 strength for any future trials. As on the preceding morn- 
 ing, too, I was awaked by the warm rays of the rising sun 
 falling on my face. On first awaking, I did not know ex- 
 actly where I was. A moment's reflection, however, sufficed 
 to recall the past to my mind, and I turned to examine my 
 actual situation. 
 
 I looked for the ship toward the end of the mast, or in the 
 direction where I had last seen her, but she was not visible. 
 The raft had swung round in the night, I thought, and I 
 bent my eyes slowly round the entire circle of the horizon, 
 but no ship was to be seen. The Dawn had sunk in the 
 night, and so quietly as to give no alarm! I shuddered, 
 for I could not but imagine what would have been my fate, 
 had I been aroused from the sleep of the living only to ex- 
 perience the last agony as I passed away into the sleep of 
 the dead. I cannot describe the sensation that came over 
 me as I gazed around, and found myself on the broad ocean, 
 floating on a little deck that was only ten feet square, and 
 which was raised less than two feet above the surface of the 
 waters. It was now that I felt the true frailty of my posi- 
 tion, and comprehended all its dangers. Before, it had been 
 shaded by the ship, as it might be, and I had found a spe- 
 cies of protection in her presence. But the whole truth now 
 stood before me. Even a moderate breeze would raise a sea 
 that could not fail to break over the staging, and which 
 must sweep everything away. The spars had a specific 
 lightness, it is true, and they would never sink, or if they 
 did sink, it would only be at the end of ages, when satu- 
 rated with water and covered with barnacles; but, on the 
 other hand, they possessed none of the buoyancy of a vessel, 
 and could not rise above the rolling waters sufficiently to 
 clear their breakers. 
 
 These were not comfortable reflections; they pressed on 
 my mind even while engaged at my morning devotions. 
 After performing, in the best manner I could, this never- 
 
344 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ceasing duty, I ate a little, though I must admit it was with 
 a small appetite. Then I made the best stowage I could of 
 my effects, and rigged and stepped the mast, hoisting the 
 sail as a signal to any vessel that might appear. I expected 
 wind ere long, nor was I disappointed — a moderate breeze 
 springing up from the northwest about nine o'clock. This 
 air was an immense relief to me in more ways than one. It 
 cooled my person, which was suffering from the intense heat 
 of a summer's sun beating directly on a boundless expanse 
 of water, and it varied a scene that otherwise possessed an 
 oppressively wearisome sameness. Unfortunately, this 
 breeze met me in the bows ; for I had stepped my mast in 
 the foremast, lashed it against the bottom of the top, which 
 it will be remembered, was now perpendicular, and stayed 
 it to the mast-heads and dead-eyes of the topmast-rigging, 
 all of which remained as when erect, though now floating 
 on the water. I intended the fractured part of the foremast 
 for my cut-water, and, of course, had to ware ship before I 
 could gather any way. This single manoeuvre occupied a 
 quarter of an hour, my braces, tacks, and sheets not working 
 particularly well. At the end of that time, however, I got 
 round, and laid my yard square. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 There was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture ; they looked, 
 as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one destroyed. A notable passion of won- 
 der appeared in them ; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could 
 not say, if the importance were joy, or sorrow ; but in the extremity of the one, it 
 must needs be. IVtnter's Tale. 
 
 As soon as the raft got fairly before the wind, and the breeze 
 had freshened, I had an opportunity of ascertaining what it 
 would do. The royal was a large one, and it stood well. I 
 had brought a log-line and the slow-glass with me, as well 
 as my quadrant, slate, etc., and began to think of keeping a 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 345 
 
 reckoning. I had supposed the ship to be, when it fell 
 calm, about two hundred miles from the land, and I knew 
 her to be in latitude 48° 37". The log-line told me the 
 raft moved through the water, all that forenoon, at the rate 
 of about half a knot in the hour; and could I keep on for 
 fifteen or sixteen days, in a straight course, I might yet hope 
 to get ashore. I was not so weak, however, as to expect any 
 such miracle to be wrought in my favor, though, had I been 
 in the trades, the thing might have occurred. By cutting 
 adrift the two yards, or by getting them fore and aft, in a 
 line with the water, my rate of sailing might be doubled; 
 and I began seriously to think of effecting this great change. 
 Cut the yards adrift I did not like to do, their support in 
 keeping me out of water being very important. By hauling 
 on the left, I did get them in a more oblique position, and 
 in a measure thus lessened their resistance to the element. 
 I thought that even this improvement made a difference of 
 half a knot in my movement. Nevertheless, it was tedious 
 work to be a whole hour in going less than a single mile, 
 when two hundred remained to be travelled, and the risks 
 of the ocean were thus constantly impending over one! 
 
 What a day was that! It blew pretty fresh at one time, 
 and I began to tremble for my staging, or deck, which got 
 washed several times, though the topsail-yard made for it a 
 sort of lee, and helped to protect it. Toward the decline of 
 the day, the wind went down, and at sunset everything was 
 as tranquil as it had been the previous evening. I thought 
 I might have been eight or nine miles from the spot where 
 the Dawn went down, without computing the influence of 
 the currents, which may have set me all that distance back 
 again, or so much further ahead, for anything I knew of the 
 matter. At sunset I took an anxious survey of the horizon, 
 to see if any sail were in sight; but nothing was visible. 
 
 Another tranquil nigh^gave me another tranquil night's 
 rest. I call the last tranquil, as it proved to be in one sense, 
 though I was sorely troubled with dreams. Had I been 
 
346 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 suffering for nourishment, I certainly should have dreamed 
 of food ; but such not being the case, my thoughts took the 
 direction of home and friends. Much of the time I lay half 
 asleep and half awake; then my mind would revert to my 
 sister, to Lucy, to Mr. Hardinge, and to Clawbonny — which 
 I fancied already in the possession of John Wallingford, who 
 was triumphing in his ownership, and the success of his 
 arts. Then I thought Lucy had purchased the place, and 
 was living there with Andrew Drewett, in a handsome new 
 house, built in the modern taste. By modern taste, I do 
 not mean one of the Grecian-temple school, as I do not 
 think that even all the vagaries of a diseased imagination, 
 that was suffering under the calamities of shipwreck, could 
 induce me to imagine Lucy Hardinge silly enough to desire 
 to live in such a structure. 
 
 Toward morning, I fell into a doze, the fourth or fifth re- 
 newal of my slumbers that night; and I remember that I 
 had that sort of curious sensation which apprises us itself, 
 it was a dream. In the course of the events that passed 
 through my mind, I fancied I overheard Marble and Neb 
 conversing. Their voices were low, and solemn, as I 
 thought; and the words so distinct, that I still remember 
 every syllable. 
 
 " No, Neb," said Marble, or seemed to say, in a most sor- 
 rowful tone, one I had never heard him use even in speak- 
 ing of his hermitage, " there is little hope for Miles, now. 
 I felt as if the poor boy was lost when I saw him swept away 
 from me, by them bloody spars striking adrift, and set him 
 down as one gone from that moment. You've lost an A 
 No. I master. Mister Neb, I can tell you, and you may sarve 
 a hundred before you fall in with his like ag'in." 
 
 "I nebber sarve anoder gentleum, Misser Marble," re- 
 turned the black; 'V^/as sartain as gospel. I born in *e 
 Wallingford family, and I lib an' die in 'e same family, or 
 I don't want to lib and die, at all. My real name be Wall- 
 ingford, dough folk do call me Clawbonny." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 347 
 
 "Ay, and a slim family it's got to be," rejoined the mate. 
 "The nicest, and the handsomest, and the most virtuous 
 young woman in all York state, is gone out of it, first; I 
 knew but little of her; but, how often did poor Miles tell 
 me all about her; and how he loved her, and how she loved 
 him, and the like of all that, as is becoming; and something 
 in the way that I love little Kitty, my niece, you know, Neb, 
 only a thousand times more; and hearing so much of a per- 
 son is all the same, or even better, than to know them up 
 and down, if a body wants to feel respect with all his heart. 
 Secondly, as a person would say, now there's Miles, lost too, 
 for the ship is sartainly gone down, Neb; otherwise, she 
 would have been seen floating hereabouts, and we may log 
 him as a man lost overboard." 
 
 "P'rhaps not, Misser Marble," said the negro. "Masser 
 Mile swim like a fish, and he isn't the gentleum to give up 
 as soon as trouble come. P'rhaps he swimming about all 
 dis time." 
 
 " Miles could do all that man could do, Neb, but he can't 
 swim two hundred miles — a South-Sea man might do some- 
 thing like that, I do suppose, but they're onaccountably 
 web-footed. No, no. Neb ; I fear we shall have to give him 
 up. Providence swept him away from us, like, and we've 
 lost him. Ah's me — well, I loved that boy better, even, than 
 a Yankee loves cucumbers." 
 
 This may be thought an odd comparison to cross a drowsy 
 imagination, but it was one Marble often made; and if eat- 
 ing the fruit morning, noon, and night, will vindicate its 
 justice, the mate stood exonerated from everything like ex- 
 aggeration. 
 
 "Ebbrybody lub Masser Mile," said the warm-hearted 
 Neb, or I thought he so said. " I nebber see dat we can go 
 home to good old Masser Hardinge and tell him how we 
 lose Masser Mile! " • 
 
 " It will be a hard job, Neb, but I greatly fear it must 
 be done. However, we will now turn in and try to catch a 
 
348 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 nap, for the wind will be rising one of these times, and then 
 we shall have need of keeping our eyes wide open." 
 
 After this I heard no more; but every word of that which 
 I have related sounded as plainly in my ears as if the 
 speakers were within fifty feet of me. I lay in the same 
 state some time longer, endeavoring, as I was curious my- 
 self, of catching, or fancying, more words from those I loved 
 so well ; but no more came. Then I believe I fell into a 
 deeper sleep, for I remember no more for hours. 
 
 At dawn I awoke, the care on my mind answering for a 
 call. This time I did not wait for the sun to shine in my 
 eyes, but, of the two, I rather preceded than awaited the 
 return of the light. On standing erect, I found the sea as 
 tranquil as it had been the previous night, and there was an 
 entire calm. It was still so dusky that a little examination 
 was necessary to be certain nothing was near. The horizon 
 was scarcely clear, though, making my first look toward the 
 east, objects were plainest in that quarter of the ocean. I 
 then turned slowly round, examining the vast expanse of 
 water as I did so, until my back was toward the approaching 
 light, and I faced the west. I thought I saw a boat within 
 ten yards of me! At first, I took it for illusion, and rubbed 
 my eyes to make sure that I was awake. There it was, how- 
 ever, and another look satisfied me it was my own launch, 
 or that in which poor Neb had been carried overboard. 
 What was more, it was floating in the proper manner, ap- 
 peared buoyant, and had two masts rigged. It is true, that 
 it looked dusky as objects appear just at dawn, but it was 
 sufficiently distinct. I could not be mistaken ; it was my 
 own launch thus thrown within my reach by the mercy of 
 divine Providence! 
 
 This boat, then, had survived the gale, and the winds and 
 currents had brought it and the raft together. What had 
 become of Neb ? He must have rigged the masts, for none 
 were stepped, of course, when the boat was in the chocks. 
 Masts, and sails, and oars were always kept in the boat, it 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 349 
 
 is true; but the first could not be stepped without hands. 
 A strange, wild feeling came over me, as a man might 
 be supposed to yield to the appearance of supernatural 
 agencies, and almost without intending it, I shouted " boat 
 ahoy!" 
 
 " Yo hoy! " answered Marble; "who hails? " 
 The form of the mate appeared rising in the boat; at the 
 next instant. Neb stood at his side. The conversation of 
 the previous night had been real, and those whom I had 
 mourned as lost stood within thirty feet of me, hale, hearty, 
 and unharmed. The boat and raft had approached each 
 other in the darkness; and, as I afterward learned, the 
 launch having fanned along for several hours of the night, 
 stopped for want of wind nearly where I now saw her, and 
 where the dialogue, part of which I overheard while half 
 asleep, had taken place. Had the launch continued on its 
 course only ten yards farther, it would have hit the fore- 
 topmast. That attraction of which I have already spoken, 
 probably kept the boat and raft near each other throughout 
 the night, and quite likely had been slowly drawing them 
 together while we slept. 
 
 It would not be easy to say which party was the most 
 astonished at this recognition. There was Marble, whom I 
 had supposed washed off the raft, safe in the launch; and 
 here was I, whom the other two had thought to have gone 
 down in the ship, safe on the raft! We appeared to have 
 changed places, without concert and without expectation of 
 ever again meeting. Though ignorant of the means through 
 which all this had been brought about, I very well know 
 what we did, as soon as each man was certain that he saw 
 the other standing before him in the flesh. We sat down 
 and wept like three children. Then Neb, too impatient to 
 wait for Marble's movements, threw himself into the sea 
 and swam to the raft. When he got on the staging, the 
 honest fellow kissed my hands again and again, blubbering 
 the whole time like a girl of three or four years of age. 
 
350 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 This scene was interrupted only by the expostulations and 
 proceedings of the mate. 
 
 "What's this you're doing, you bloody nigger!" cried 
 Marble. "Desarting your station, and leaving me here, 
 alone, to manage this heavy launch by myself. It might be 
 the means of losing all hands of us again, should a hurri- 
 cane spring up suddenly, and wreck us over again." 
 
 The truth was, Marble began to be ashamed of the weak- 
 ness he had betrayed, and was ready to set upon anything 
 in order to conceal it. Neb put an end to this sally, how- 
 ever, by plunging again into the water and swimming back 
 to the boat, as readily as he had come to the raft. 
 
 "Ay, here you are, Neb, nigger-like, and not knowing 
 whether to stay or to go," growled the mate, busy the whole 
 time in shipping two oars. " You put me in mind of a great 
 singer I once heard in Liverpool ; a chap that would keep 
 shaking and quavering at the end of a varse, in such a style 
 that he sometimes did not know whether to let go or to hold 
 on. It is onbecoming in men to forget themselves, Neb; if 
 we have found him we thought to be lost, it is no reason for 
 desarting our stations, or losing our wits — Miles, my dear 
 boy," springing on the raft, and sending Neb adrift again, 
 all alone, by the backward impetus of the leap — " Miles, 
 my dear boy, God be praised for this ! " squeezing both my 
 hands as in a vice — " I don't know how it is — but ever since 
 I've fallen in with my mother and little Kitty, I've got to be 
 womanish. I suppose it's what you call domestic affection." 
 
 Here Marble gave in once more, blubbering just as hard 
 as Neb himself had done. 
 
 A few minutes later, all three began to know what we 
 were about. The launch was hauled up alongside of the 
 stage, and we sat on the latter, relating the manner in which 
 each of us had been saved. First, then, as to Neb : I have 
 already told the mode in which the launch was swept over- 
 board, and I inferred its loss from the violence of the tem- 
 pest, and the height of the seas that were raging around us. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 351 
 
 It is true, neither Marble nor I saw anything of the launch 
 after it sunk behind the first hill of water to leeward, for we 
 had too much to attend to on board the ship to have leisure 
 to look about us. But it seems the black was enabled to 
 maintain the boat the right side up, and, by baling, to keep 
 her afloat. He drove to leeward, of course, and the pool 
 fellow described in vivid terms his sensations as he saw the 
 rate at which he was driving away from the ship, and the 
 manner in which he lost sight of her remaining spars. As 
 soon as the wind would permit, however, he stepped the 
 masts, and set the two luggs, close reefed, making stretches 
 of three or four miles in length, to windward. This timely 
 decision was the probable means of saving all our lives. In 
 the course of a few hours, after he had got the boat under 
 command, he caught a glimpse of the fore-royal-masts stick- 
 ing out from the cap of a sea, and watching it eagerly, he 
 next perceived the whole of the raft, as it came up on the 
 same swell, with Marble, half drowned, lashed to the top. 
 It was quite an hour before Neb could get near enough to 
 the raft, or spars, to make Marble conscious of his presence, 
 and some time longer ere he could get the sufferer into the 
 boat. This rescue did not occur one minute too soon, for 
 the mate admitted to me he was half drowned, and that he 
 did not think he could have held out much longer, when 
 Neb took him into the boat. 
 
 As for food and water, they fared well enough. A breaker 
 of fresh water was kept in each boat, by my standing orders, 
 and it seems that the cook, who was a bit of an epicure in 
 his way, was in the habit of stowing a bag of bread and cer- 
 tain choice pieces of beef and pork, in the bows of the 
 launch, for his own special benefit. All these Neb had 
 found, somewhat the worse for salt water, it is true, but still 
 in a condition to be eaten. There was sufficient in the 
 launch, therefore, when we •thus met, to sustain Marble and 
 Neb in good heart for a week. 
 
 As soon as the mate was got o& the raft, he took direction 
 
352 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 of the launch. Unluckily, he made a long stretch to the 
 northward, intending to tack and cross what he supposed 
 must have been the position of the ship, and come to my 
 relief. While the launch was thus working its way to wind- 
 ward, I fell in with, and took possession of, the raft, as has 
 been described. Marble's calculation was a good one in the 
 main, but it brought him near the Dawn the night she sank, 
 and the raft and boat were both too low to be seen at any 
 distance, the one from the other. It is probable we were 
 not more than ten or twelve miles asunder the most of the 
 day I was on the raft. Marble putting up his helm to cross 
 the supposed position of the ship, about three in the after- 
 noon. This brought him down upon the raft about mid- 
 night, when the conversation I have related took place, 
 within a few yards of me, neither party having the least 
 notion of the proximity of the other. 
 
 I was touched by the manner in which Marble and Neb 
 spoke of my supposed fate. Neither seemed to remember 
 that he was washed away from a ship, but appeared to fancy 
 that I was abandoned alone on the high seas in a sinking 
 vessel. While I had been regretting their misfortunes, they 
 had both thought of me as the party to be pitied, each fancy- 
 ing his own fortune more happy than mine. In a word, 
 their concern for me was so great that they altogether forgot 
 to dwell on the hardships and dangers of their own par- 
 ticular cases. I could not express all I felt on the occasion, 
 but the events of that morning and the feelings betrayed by 
 my two old shipmates made an impression on my heart that 
 time has not, nor ever can, efface. Most men who had been 
 washed overboard would have fancied themselves the suffer- 
 ing party ; but during the remainder of the long intercourse 
 that succeeded, both Marble and Neb always alluded to this 
 occurrence as if I were the person lost and rescued. 
 
 We were an hour or more intently occupied in these ex- 
 planations before either recollected the future. Then I felt 
 it was time to have some thought for our situation, which 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 353 
 
 was sufficiently precarious as it was, though Marble and 
 Neb made light of any risks that remained to be run. I 
 was saved, as it might be, by a miracle, and that was all 
 that they could remember just then. But a breeze sprang 
 up from the eastwaid, as the sun appeared, and the agitation 
 of the raft soon satisfied me that my berth would have been 
 most precarious had I not been so providentially relieved. 
 It is true, Marble made light of the present state of things, 
 which, compared to those into which he had been so sud- 
 denly launched, without food, water, or provisions of any 
 sort, was a species of paradise. Nevertheless, no time was 
 to be wasted, and we had a long road to travel in the boat 
 ere we could deem ourselves in the least safe. 
 
 My two associates had got the launch in as good order as 
 circumstances would allow. But it wanted ballast to carry 
 sail hard, and they had felt this disadvantage, particularly 
 Neb, when he first got the boat on a wind. I could under- 
 stand, by his account of the difficulties and dangers he ex- 
 perienced, though it came out incidentally, and without the 
 smallest design to magnify his own merits, that nothing but 
 his undying interest in me could have prevented him from 
 running off before the wind in order to save his own life. 
 An opportunity now offered to remedy this evil, and we went 
 to work to transfer all the effects I had placed on the stage 
 to the launch. They made a little cargo that gave her 
 stability at once. As soon as this was done, we entered the 
 boat, made sail, and hauled close on a wind, under reefed 
 luggs, it beginning to blow smartly in puffs. 
 
 I did not part from the raft without melancholy regrets. 
 The materials of which it was composed were all that now 
 remained of the Dawn. Then the few hours of jeopardy 
 and loneliness I had passed on it were not to be forgotten. 
 They still recur vividly to my thoughts with deep, and, I 
 trust, profitable reflections. Jhe first hour after we cast off, 
 we stood to the southward. The wind continuing to increase 
 in violence, and the sea to get up, until it blew too fresh for. 
 23 
 
354 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the boat to make any headway, or even to hold her own 
 against it, Marble thought he might do better on the other 
 tack — having some reason to suppose there was a current 
 setting to the southward and eastward — and we wore round. 
 After standing to the northward for a sufficient length of 
 time, we again fell in with the spars — a proof that we were 
 doing nothing toward working our way to windward. I 
 determined, at once, to make fast to them, and use them as 
 a sort of floating anchor, so long as the foul wind lasted. 
 We had some difficulty in effecting this object; but we 
 finally succeeded in getting near enough under the lee of 
 the top to make fast to one of its eye-bolts — using a small 
 bit of hawser that was in the boat for that purpose. The 
 boat was then dropped a sufficient distance to leeward of the 
 spars, where it rode head to sea, like a duck. This was a 
 fortunate expedient; as it came on to blow hard, and we 
 had something very like a little gale of wind. 
 
 As soon as the launch was thus moored, we found its ad- 
 vantage. It shipped no more water, or very little, and we 
 were not compelled to be on the lookout for squalls, which 
 occurred every ten or fifteen minutes, with a violence that 
 it would not do to trifle with. The weather thickened at 
 these moments; and there were intervals of half an hour at 
 a time, when we could not see a hundred yards from the 
 boat, on account of the drizzling, misty rain that filled 
 the atmosphere. There we sat, conversing sometimes of the 
 past, sometimes of the future, a bubble in the midst of the 
 raging waters of the Atlantic, filled with the confidence of 
 seamen. With the stout boat we possessed, the food and 
 water we had, I do not think either now felt any great con- 
 cern for his fate; it being possible, in moderate weather, to 
 run the launch far enough to reach an English port in about 
 a week. Favored by even a tolerably fair wind, the object 
 might be effected in even two or three days. 
 
 " I take it for granted, Miles," Marble remarked, as we 
 pursued our discourse, " that your insurance will completely 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 355 
 
 cover your whole loss. You did not forget to include 
 freight in the risks ? " 
 
 " So far from this, Moses, I believe myself to be nearly 
 or quite a ruined man. The loss of the ship is unquestion- 
 ably owing to the act of the Speedy, united to our own, in 
 setting those Englishmen adrift on the ocean. No insurers 
 will meet a policy that has thus been voided." 
 
 "Ah! the blackguards! This is worse than I had 
 thought; but you can always make a harbor at Clawbonny." 
 
 I was on the point of explaining to Marble how I stood in 
 relation to the paternal acres, when a sort of shadow was 
 suddenly cast on the boat, and I fancied the rushing of the 
 water seemed to be increased at the same instant. We all 
 three sat with our faces to leeward, and all turned them to 
 windward under a common impulse. A shout burst from 
 Marble's throat, and a sight met my eyes that caused the 
 blood to rush in a torrent through my heart. Literally 
 within a hundred feet of us was a large ship, ploughing the 
 ocean with a furrow that rose to her hawse-holes, and piling 
 before her, in her track, a mound of foam, as she came down 
 upon us, with topmast and lower studding-sails set — over- 
 shadowing the sea like some huge cloud. There was 
 scarcely time for more than a glance, ere the ship was nearly 
 upon us. As she rose on a swell, her black sides came up 
 out of the ocean, glittering and dripping, and the line of 
 frowning guns seemed as if just lacquered. Neb was in the 
 bow of the launch, while I was in the stern. My arm was 
 extended involuntarily, or instinctively would be the better 
 word, to avert the danger, when it seemed to me that the 
 next send of the ship would crush us beneath the bright 
 copper of her bottom. Without Neb's strength and presence 
 of mind, we had been lost beyond a hope; for swimming up 
 to the spars against the sea that was on would have been 
 next to hopeless; and even if there, without food, or water, 
 our fate would have been sealed. But Neb seized the hawser 
 by which we were riding, and hauled the launch ahead her 
 
35^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 length, or more, before the frigate's larboard bower-anchor 
 settled down in a way that menaced crushing us. As it 
 was, I actually laid a hand on the muzzle of the third gun 
 while the ship went foaming by. At the next instant she 
 was past; and we were safe. Then all three of us shouted 
 together. Until that moment, none in the frigate were aware 
 of our vicinity. But the shout gave the alarm, and as the ship 
 cleared us, her taffrail was covered with officers. Among 
 them was one gray-headed man, whom I recognized by his 
 dress for the captain. He made a gesture, turning an arm 
 upward, and I knew an order was given immediately after, 
 by the instantaneous manner in which the taffrail was 
 cleared. 
 
 "By George! " exclaimed Marble, "I had a generalizing 
 time of it for half a dozen seconds, Miles." 
 
 " There was more risk," I answered, " than time to reflect 
 on it. However, the ship is about to round-to, and we shall 
 be picked up at last. Let us thank God for this. " 
 
 It was indeed a beautiful sight for a seaman to note the 
 manner in which that old captain handled his vessel. Al- 
 though we found the wind and sea too much for a boat that 
 had to turn to windward, neither was of much moment to a 
 stout frigate, that carried fifty guns, and which was running 
 off with the wind on her quarter. 
 
 She was hardly past us when I could see preparations 
 making to take in canvas. At the instant she overshadowed 
 us with her huge wings this vessel had topgallant-sails set, 
 with two topmast and a lower studding-sail, besides carrying 
 the lee-clew of her mainsail down, and the other customary 
 cloth spread. Up went her mainsail almost as soon as the 
 captain made the signal with his arm ; then all three of the 
 topgallant-sails were flying at the same moment. Presently, 
 the yards were alive with men, and the loose canvas was 
 rolled up, and the gaskets passed. While this was doing, 
 down came all the studding-sails together, much as a bird 
 shuts its wings. The booms disappeared immediately after. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 357 
 
 "Look at that, Miles!" cried the delighted Marble. 
 " Although a bloody Englishman, that chap leaves nothing 
 to be done over again. He puts everything in its place, like 
 an old woman stowing away her needles and thread. I'll 
 warrant you, the old blade is a keen one! " 
 
 " The ship is well handled, certainly, and her people work 
 like mariners who are trying to save the lives of mariners." 
 
 While this was passing between us, the frigate was 
 stripped to her three topsails, spanker, jib, and fore-course. 
 Down came her yards next, and then they were covered with 
 blue-jackets, like bees clustering around a hive. We had 
 scarcely time to note this ere the men lay in, and the yards 
 were up again with the sails reefed. This was no sooner 
 done than the frigate, which had luffed the instant the steer- 
 ing-sails were in, was trimmed close on a wind, and began 
 to toss the water over her spritsail-yard as she met the 
 waves like one that paid them no heed. No sooner was the 
 old seaman who directed all this assured of the strength of 
 the wind he had to meet, than down went his mainsail again, 
 and the tack was hauled aboard. 
 
 The stranger was then under the smartest canvas a frigate 
 can carry — reefs in her topsails, with the courses set. Her 
 sail could be shortened in an instant, yet she was under a 
 press of it, more than an ordinary vessel would presume to 
 carry, perhaps, in so strong a breeze. 
 
 Notwithstanding the great jeopardy from which we had 
 just escaped, and the imminent hazard so lately run, all 
 three of us watched the movements of the frigate with as 
 much satisfaction as a connoisseur would examine a fine 
 painting. Even Neb let several nigger expressions of 
 pleasure escape him. 
 
 By the time sail could be shortened and the ship hauled 
 close on a wind, the frigate was nearer half than a quarter 
 of a mile off. We had to wait, therefore, until she could 
 beat up to the place where we lay. This she soon did, 
 making one stretch to the southward until in a line with the 
 
358 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 boat, when she tacked and came toward us with her yards 
 braced up, but having the wind nearly abeam. As she got 
 within a cable's length, both courses were hauled up and left 
 hanging in the brails. Then the noble craft came rolling 
 by us in the trough, passing so near that we might be spoken. 
 The old officer stood in the weather gangway with a trumpet, 
 and he hailed when near enough to be heard. Instead of 
 asking questions to satisfy his own curiosity, he merely 
 communicated his own intentions. 
 
 " I'll heave-to when past you," he cried out, " waring ship 
 to do so. You can then drop down under my stern, as close 
 as possible, and we'll throw you a rope." 
 
 I understood the plan, which was considerate, having a 
 regard to the feebleness of our boat's crew, and the weight 
 of the boat itself. Accordingly, when she had room enough, 
 the frigate wore, hauling up close on the other tack, and 
 laying her mainyard square. As soon as the ship was 
 stationary, Neb cast off the hawser, and Marble and he 
 manned two oars. We got the boat round without much 
 risk, and, in less time than it takes to write it, were sending 
 down toward the ship at a furious rate. I steered, and 
 passed so near the frigate's rudder that I thought, for an 
 instant, I had gone too close. A rope was hove as we 
 cleared the lee-quarter of the frigate, and the people on 
 board hauled us alongside. We caught the man-ropes, and 
 were soon on the quarter-deck. A respectable-looking, 
 elderly man, of a square, compact frame, and a fine ruddy 
 English face, in a post captain's undress, received me, with 
 an extended hand, and a frank, generous, hearty manner. 
 
 " You are welcome on board the Briton," he said warmly ; 
 " and I thank God that he has put it in our power to relieve 
 you. Your ship must have been lost quite recently, as you 
 do not seem to have suffered. When you feel equal to it, I 
 should like to hear the name of your vessel and the par- 
 ticulars of her disaster. I suppose it was in the late blow, 
 which was a whacker, and did lots of mischief along the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 359 
 
 coast. I see you are Americans, and that your boat is New 
 York built; but all men in distress are countrymen." 
 
 This was a hearty reception, and one I had every reason 
 to extol. So long as I stayed with Captain Rowley, as this 
 officer was named, I had no reason to complain of any change 
 in his deportment. Had I been his son, he could not have 
 treated me more kindly, taking me into his own cabin, 
 and giving me a seat at his own table. I gave him an out- 
 line of what had happened to us, not deeming it necessary 
 to relate the affair with the Speedy, however ; simply men- 
 tioning the manner in which we had escaped from a French 
 privateer, and leaving him to infer, should he see fit, that 
 the rest of our crew had been carried away on that occasion. 
 My reserve on the subject of the other capture, the reader 
 will at once see, was merely a necessary piece of prudent 
 caution. 
 
 Captain Rowley had no sooner heard my story, which I 
 made as short as possible, knowing that Marble and Neb 
 had been cautioned on the subject, than he again took my 
 hand, and welcomed me to his ship. The mate was sent 
 into the gun-room, and recommended to the hospitality of 
 the lieutenants; while Neb was placed in the care of the 
 cabin servants. A short consultation was then held about 
 the boat, which it was decided must be sent adrift, after its 
 effects were passed out of it ; the Briton having no use for 
 such a launch, nor any place to stow it. I stood at the 
 gangway and looked with a melancholy eye at this last rem- 
 nant of the Dawn that I ever beheld : a large eighty thousand 
 dollars of my property vanishing from the earth, in the loss 
 of that ship and her cargo. 
 
360 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Some shout at victory's loud acclaim, 
 
 Some fall that victory to assure. 
 Bat time divulges that in name, 
 
 Alone, our triumphs are secure. 
 
 Duo. 
 
 The Briton had come out of the Cove of Cork only a few 
 days before, and was bound on service, with orders to run 
 off to the westward, a few hundred miles, and to cruise three 
 months in a latitude that might cover the homeward-bound 
 running ships, from the American provinces, of which there 
 were many in that early period of the war. This was not 
 agreeable news to us, who had hoped to be landed some- 
 where immediately, and who had thought, at first, on seeing 
 the ship carrying a press of sail to the westward, that she 
 might be going to Halifax. There was no remedy, however, 
 and we were fain to make the best of circumstances. Cap- 
 tain Rowley promised to put us on board the first vessel 
 that offered, and that was as much as we had a right to ask 
 of him. 
 
 More than two months passed without the Briton's speak- 
 ing, or even seeing, a single sail ! To these vicissitudes is 
 the seaman subject; at one time he is in the midst of craft, 
 at another the ocean seems deserted to himself alone. Cap- 
 tain Rowley ascribed this want of success to the fact that 
 the war was inducing the running ships to collect in con- 
 voys, and that his orders carried him too far north to permit 
 his falling in with the Americans bound to and from Liver- 
 pool. Whatever may have been the reason, however, the 
 result was the same to us. After the gale of the equinox, 
 the Briton stood to the southward, as far as Madeira, such 
 a change of ground being included in her instructions; and 
 thence, after cruising three weeks in the neighborhood of 
 that island, she shaped her course for Plymouth. In the 
 whole, the frigate had, at that time, brought-to and boarded 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 36 1 
 
 some thirty sail, all of whom were neutrals, and not one of 
 whom was bound to a port that would do us any good. The 
 ship's water getting low, we were now compelled to go in, 
 and, as has been said, we made sail to the northward. The 
 afternoon of the very day the Briton left her second cruising 
 ground, a strange ship was seen directly on her course, which 
 was pronounced to be a frigate before the sun set. 
 
 The Briton manoeuvred all night to close with the stranger, 
 and with success, as he was only a league distant, and a very 
 little to windward of her, when I went on deck early the 
 next morning. I found the ship clear for action, and a de- 
 gree of animation pervading the vessel, that I had never 
 before witnessed. The people were piped to breakfast just 
 as I approached the captain to salute him with a " good 
 morning." 
 
 "Good morning to you, Wallingford," cried the old man, 
 in a cheerful way; "you are just in time to take a look at 
 yonder Frenchman in his glory. Two hours hence I hope 
 he'll not appear quite as much of a beau as he is at this 
 moment. She's a noble craft, is she not, and quite of our 
 own force." 
 
 "As for the last, sir," I answered, "there does not seem 
 much to choose — she is what you call a thirty-eight, and 
 mounts fifty guns, I dare say. Is she certainly French ? " 
 
 " As certainly as this ship is English. She can do nothing 
 with our signals, and her rig is a character for her. Who 
 ever saw an Englishman with such royal-masts and yards? 
 So, Master Wallingford, you must consent to take your 
 breakfast an hour earlier than common, or go without it, 
 altogether. Ah — here is the steward to say it waits for us." 
 
 I followed Captain Rowley to the cabin, where I found 
 he had sent for Marble to share our meal. The kind-hearted 
 old gentleman seemed desirous of adding this act of civility 
 to the hundred others that he had already shown us. I had 
 received much generous and liberal treatment from Captain 
 Rowley, but never before had he seemed so much disposed 
 
362 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 to act toward me as a father would act to a son as on that 
 morning. 
 
 " I hope you have done justice to Davis's cookery, gen- 
 tlemen," he said, after the assault on the eatables began to 
 abate a little in ardor, "for this may be the last opportunity 
 that will offer to enjoy it. I am an Englishman, and have 
 what I hope is a humble confidence in the superiority of an 
 English over a French ship; but I very well know we never 
 get even a French ship without working for it; and yonder 
 gentleman may not leave us any crockery for to-morrow. 
 He evidently means to fight us, and I think will do him- 
 self credit." 
 
 "I believe you English always go into action against the 
 French with a confidence of victory," I remarked. 
 
 " Why, we have brought our lads up to that feeling, cer- 
 tainly, though I would not have you fancy I am quite of 
 that way of thinking. I am too old, and have seen too 
 much service, Wallingford, not to know that every battle 
 is liable to accidents and vicissitudes. There is some 
 difference in service, I must suppose, though not half as 
 much in men as is vulgarly imagined. The result is in 
 the hands of God, and I do think we are fighting his bat- 
 tles, in this fearful war; therefore, I trust he will take care 
 of us." 
 
 I was surprised to find Captain Rowley, who was usually 
 cheerful and gay, talking in this manner; but it did not be- 
 come me to pursue the subject. In a minute or two, we rose 
 from table, and I heard the order given to the steward to 
 report to the first lieutenant, as soon as the table was cleared 
 away, that the cabin bulkheads might be removed. Marble 
 and I then passed below into a canvas berth that had been 
 made for him, where we could consult together without 
 danger of interruption. Just as we reached the place, the 
 drum beat to quarters. This carried nearly every one else 
 on deck, and left us virtually alone. 
 
 " Well, Miles," commenced Marble, "this v'y'ge will beat 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 363 
 
 any other of our v'y'ges, and give it fifty. We have been 
 twice captured, once wrecked, have seen a fight, and are 
 about to feel another. What do you think patriotism and 
 republican vartoo require us to do in such a crisis? " 
 
 This was the first time I had ever heard my mate mention 
 republicanism, his habits being certainly as much opposed 
 to liberty as those of Napoleon himself. Although the 
 reader probably will not understand the drift of his question, 
 it was not lost on me. I answered, therefore, like one who 
 fully comprehended him. 
 
 "I am afraid, Moses," said I, "there is very little repub- 
 licanism in France just now, nor do I know that resem- 
 blance in governments makes nations friends. Unless the 
 resemblance be complete, I rather think they are more dis- 
 posed to quarrel about the differences, than to allow the 
 merits of the points of affinity. As between England and 
 France, however, since we are at peace with both, we Amer- 
 icans have nothing to do with their quarrels." 
 
 " I thought that would be your idee. Miles, and yet it 
 would be awkward to be in the midst of a fight and take no 
 part in it. I'd give a hundred dollars to be on board that 
 Frenchman this minute." 
 
 " Are you so much in love with defeat as to wish to be 
 flogged?" 
 
 " I don't know how it is, but it goes ag'in the grain to 
 take sides with a John Bull." 
 
 "There is no necessity for taking sides with either, 
 though we can remember how these people have saved our 
 lives, how kind they have been to us, and that we have lit- 
 erally lived three months on their bounty. Neb, I'm glad 
 to see, makes fair weather of it on the berth-deck." 
 
 "Ay, there's more in that than you dream of, perhaps. 
 Mr. Clements, the first lieutenant of this ship, is a sly one, 
 and he thinks more of a good seaman than some priests do of 
 piety. If I'm not greatly misled, he intends that Neb shan't 
 quit this ship till the peace." 
 
364 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " How ! They surely cannot pretend that the black is an 
 Englishman ? " 
 
 "There are all kinds of Englishmen, black and white, 
 when seamen grow scarce. Hows'ever, there is no use in 
 looking out for the worst; we shall know all about it when 
 the ship gets in. How are we to behave, Miles, in this 
 here battle? It goes ag'in my feelin's to help an English- 
 man, and yet an old salt don't like to keep under hatches 
 while powder is burning on deck." 
 
 " It would be wrong for either of us to take any part in 
 the action, since we have nothing to do with the quarrel. 
 Still, we may appear on deck, unless ordered below, and I 
 dare say opportunities will offer to be of use, especially in 
 assisting the hurt. I shall go on the quarter-deck, but I 
 would advise you not to go higher than the gun-deck. As 
 for Neb, I shall formally offer his services in helping to 
 carry the wounded down." 
 
 " I understand you — we shall all three sarve in the hu- 
 mane gang. Well, when a man has no business with any 
 other, that may be better than none. Your standing idle in 
 a fight must be trying work ! " 
 
 Marble and I conversed a little longer on this subject, 
 when a gun fired from the upper deck gave us notice that 
 the game was about to begin. Each hastened to his in- 
 tended post without more words. When I reached ^he quar- 
 ter-deck, everything denoted the eve of a combat. The ship 
 was under short canvas, the men were at quarters, the guns 
 were cast loose, and were levelled, the tompions were all 
 out, shot was distributed about the deck, and here and there 
 some old salt of a captain might be seen squinting along 
 his gun, as if impatient to begin. A silence like that of a 
 deserted church reigned throughout the ship. Had one 
 been on board her intended adversary at that same instant 
 he would have been deafened by the clamor, and confused 
 with the hurried and disorderly manner in which prepara- 
 tions that were long before completed on board the British, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 365 
 
 were still in progress on board the Frenchman. Four years 
 earlier the same want of preparation had given Nelson his 
 great victory at the Nile. The French, in order to clear 
 their outer batteries, had lumbered those inshore, and when 
 half their enemies unexpectedly passed inside, they found 
 their ships were not prepared to fire — ships that, were vir- 
 tually beaten before they had discharged an effective shot. 
 
 " Wallingford," said my old friend the captain as soon as 
 I approached him, " you have nothing to do here. It would 
 not be proper for you to take a part in this action, and it 
 would be folly to expose yourself without an object." 
 
 " I am quite aware of all this, Captain Rowley, but I have 
 thought your kindness to me was so great as to permit me 
 to be a looker-on. I may be of some service to the wounded, 
 if to nothing else ; and I hope you think me too much of an 
 officer to get in the way." 
 
 " I am not certain, sir, I ought to permit anything of the 
 sort," returned the old man, gravely. "This fighting is 
 serious business, and no one should meddle with it whose 
 duty does not command it of him. See here, sir," pointing 
 at the French frigate, which was about two cables' lengths 
 distant, with her topgallant-sails clewed up and the courses 
 in the brails; "in ten minutes we shall be hard at it, and 
 I leave it to yourself to say whether prudence does not re- 
 quire that you should go below." 
 
 I had expected this, and instead of contesting the matter 
 I bowed and walked off the quarter-deck, as if about to 
 comply. "Out of sight, out of mind," I thought; it would 
 be time enough to go below when I had seen the beginning 
 of the affair. In the waist I passed the marines, drawn up 
 in military array, with their officer as attentive to dressing 
 them in line as if the victory depended on its accuracy. On 
 the forecastle, I found Neb, with his hands in his pockets, 
 watching the manoeuvres of the French as the cat watches 
 those of the mouse. The fellow's eye was alive with in- 
 terest, and I saw it was useless to think of sending him be- 
 
366 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 low. As for the officers, they had taken their cue from the 
 captain, and only smiled good-naturedly as I passed them. 
 The first lieutenant, however, was an exception. He never 
 had appeared well disposed toward us, and, I make no 
 doubt, had I not been so hospitably taken into the cabin, we 
 should all have got an earlier taste of his humor. 
 
 " There is too much good stuff in that fellow," he dryly 
 remarked, in passing, pointing toward Neb at the same time, 
 "for him to be doing nothing at a moment like this.'^ 
 
 " We are neutrals as respects France, Mr. Clements," I 
 answered, " and it would not be right for us to take part in 
 your quarrels. I will not hesitate to say, however, that I 
 have received so much kindness on board the Briton that I 
 should feel miserable in not being permitted to share your 
 danger. Something may turn up that will enable me to be 
 of assistance — ay, and Neb, too." 
 
 The man gave me a keen look, muttered something be- 
 tween his teeth, and walked aft, whither he was proceeding 
 when we met. I looked in the direction in which he went, 
 and could see he was speaking in a surly way to Captain 
 Rowley. The old gentleman cast a look forward, shook a 
 finger at me, then smiled in his benevolent way, and turned, 
 as I thought, to look for one of the midshipmen who acted 
 as his aids. At that moment the Frenchman went in stays, 
 delivering his whole broadside, from aft forward, as the 
 guns bore. The shot told on the British spars smartly, 
 though only two hulled her. As a matter of course, this 
 turned the thoughts of Captain Rowley to the main business 
 in hand, and I was forgotten. As for Neb, he immediately 
 made himself useful. A shot cut the main-spring-stay just 
 above his head, and before I had time to speak the fellow 
 seized a stopper, and caught one of the ends of the stay, ap- 
 plied the stopper, and was hard at work in bringing the rope 
 into its proper place, and in preparing it again to bear a 
 strain. The boatswain applauded his activity, sending two 
 or three forecastle-men to help him. From that moment 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 36/ 
 
 Neb was as busy as a bee aloft, now appearing through 
 openings in the smoke, on this yard-arm, now on that, his 
 face on a broad grin whenever business of more importance 
 than common was to be done. The Briton might have had 
 older and more experienced seamen at work in her rigging 
 that day, but not one that was more active, more ready when 
 told what to do, or more athletic. The gait^ de coeur with 
 which this black exerted himself in the midst of that scene 
 of strife, clamor, and bloodshed, has always presented itself 
 to my mind as truly wonderful. 
 
 Captain Rowley did not alter his course, or fire a gun, in 
 answer to the salute he received, though the two ships were 
 scarcely a cable's length asunder when the Frenchman be- 
 gan. The Briton stood steadily on, and the two ships passed 
 each other, within pistol-shot, a minute or two later, when 
 we let fly all our larboard guns. This was the beginning 
 of the real war, and warm enough it was for half an hour or 
 more — our ship coming round as soon as she had fired, when 
 the two frigates closed broadside and broadside, both run- 
 ning off nearly dead before the wind. I do not know how 
 it happened, but when the head-yards were swung, I found 
 myself pulling at the forebrace like a dray horse. The mas- 
 ter's mate, who commanded these braces, thanked me for my 
 assistance in a cheerful voice, saying, " We'll thrash 'em in 
 an hour, Captain Wallingford." This was the first con- 
 sciousness I had that my hands had entered into the affair 
 at all! 
 
 I had now an opportunity of ascertaining what a very 
 different thing it is to be a spectator in such a scene from 
 being an actor. Ashamed of the forgetfulness that had sent 
 me to the brace, I walked on the quarter-deck, where blood 
 was already flowing freely. Everybody but myself was at 
 work for life or death. In 1803, that mongrel gun, the car- 
 ronade, had come into general use, and those on the quarter- 
 deck of the Briton were beginning to fly round and look 
 their owners in the face, when they vomited their contents, 
 
368 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 as they grew warm with the explosion. Captain Rowley, 
 Clements, and the master, were all here, the first and last at- 
 tending to the trimming of the sails, while the first lieu- 
 tenant looked a little after the battery, and a little at every- 
 thing else. Scarce a minute passed that shot did not strike 
 somewhere, though it was principally aloft; and the wails 
 of the hurt, the revolting part of every serious combat, be- 
 gan to mingle in the roar of the contest. The English, I 
 observed, fought sullenly, though they fought with all their 
 hearts. Occasionally, a cheer would arise in some part of 
 the ship; but these, and the cries of the hurt, were almost 
 all the sounds that were heard, except those of the conflict, 
 with an occasional call, or a word of encouragement from 
 some officer. 
 
 " Warm work, Wallingford ! " Captain Rowley said as I 
 came close upon him in the smoke. " You have no busi- 
 ness here, but I like to see the face of a friend notwith- 
 standing. You have been looking about you ; how do you 
 think it is going? " 
 
 " This ship will — must beat, Captain Rowley. Her order 
 and regularity are most beautiful." 
 
 " Ay — I'm glad to hear you say as much, Wallingford, for 
 I know you are a seaman. Just go down on the gun -deck 
 and cast an eye around you; then come up and tell me how 
 things look there." 
 
 Here I was fairly enlisted as an aid. Down I went, 
 however, and such a scene I never had witnessed before 
 certainly. Although the season had well advanced into 
 autumn, the weather was so warm that half the men had 
 stripped for the toil — and toil it is, to work heavy guns, for 
 hours at a time, under the excitement of battle; a toil that 
 may not be felt at the time, perhaps, but which leaves a 
 weariness like that of disease behind it. Many of the sea- 
 men fought in their trousers alone; their long, hard cues 
 lying on their naked backs, which resembled those of so 
 many athletae, prepared for the arena. The gun-deck was 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 369 
 
 full of smoke, the priming burned in-board producing that 
 effect, though the powder which exploded in the guns was 
 sent, with its flames and sulphurous wreaths, in long lines 
 from the ports toward the enemy. The place appeared a 
 sort of pandemonium to me. I could perceive men moving 
 about in the smoke, rammers and sponges whirling in their 
 hands, guns reeling inward, ay, even leaping from the deck, 
 under the violence of the recoils, officers signing with their 
 swords to add emphasis to their orders, boys running to and 
 fro on their way to and from the magazines, shot tossed 
 from hand to hand, and to give its fiercest character to all, 
 the dead and dying weltering in their blood amidships. 
 
 Of the manoeuvres of this combat I know scarcely any- 
 thing. My attention was drawn in-board; for having 
 nothing to do, I could not but watch the effect of the enemy's 
 fire on the Briton, as well as the manner in which the Eng- 
 lish repaid all they received. While standing near the 
 mainmast, in the battery that was not engaged. Marble made 
 me out in the smoke and came up to speak to me. 
 
 " Them Frenchmen are playing their parts like men," he 
 said. " There's a shot just gone through the cook's coppers, 
 and another through the boat. By the Lord Harry, if the 
 boys on this deck do not bestir themselves, we shall get 
 licked. I wouldn't be licked by a Frenchman on any ac- 
 count. Miles. Even little Kitty would point her finger at 
 me. 
 
 "We are only passengers, you know, Moses; and can 
 have little concern with victory, or defeat, so long as the 
 striped and starred bunting has nothing to do with the credit 
 of the thing." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that. Miles. I do not like being 
 flogged, even as a passenger. There! just look at that, 
 now ! Two or three more such raps and half our guns will 
 be silenced! " 
 
 Two shot had come in together as Marble thus interrupted 
 himself; one of them knocking away the side of a port, 
 24 • 
 
370 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 while the other laid four men of its gun on the deck. This 
 gun was on the point of being discharged as the injury was 
 inflicted; but the loss of its captain prevented it from being 
 fired. The lieutenant of the division caught the match 
 from the fallen seaman, gave it a puff with his breath, and 
 applied it to the priming. As the gun came leaping in, the 
 lieutenant turned his head to see where he could best find 
 men to supply the place of those who had been killed or 
 wounded. His eyes fell on us. He asked no questions; 
 but merely looked in our direction. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," said Marble, stripping off his jacket and 
 taking the tobacco from his mouth. "In one moment. 
 Just hold on till I'm ready." 
 
 I scarce knew whether to remonstrate or not; but hard at 
 it he went; and, delighted by his zeal, the officer clapped 
 -him on the back, leaving him to act as captain of the gun. 
 Afraid the contagion might extend to myself, I turned, 
 ascended the ladder, and was immediately on the quarter- 
 deck again. Here I found old Capain Rowley, with his hat 
 off, cheering his men — the Frenchman's main-topmast hav- 
 ing just gone over his side. It was not a time to make my 
 report, nor was any needed just then ; so I walked aft as far 
 as the taffrail, in order to get out of the way, and to make 
 my observations as much removed from the smoke as pos- 
 sible. This was the only opportunity I enjoyed of noting 
 the relative positions, as well as conditions, of the two 
 vessels. 
 
 The Briton had suffered heavily aloft; but all her princi- 
 pal spars still stood. On the other hand, her antagonist 
 had lost both main and mizzen-topmasts, and her fire had 
 materially slackened within the last fifteen minutes. She 
 was falling more under a quarter-raking fire, too, from her 
 people's losing command of their ship; the two frigates 
 having some time before come by the wind — the English- 
 man a little on the Frenchman's weather-quarter. As is 
 usual, in a heavy cannonade and a moderate breeze, the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 37 1 
 
 wind had died away, or become neutralized, by the concus- 
 sions of the guns, and neither combatant moved much from 
 the position he occupied. Still the Briton had her yards 
 knowingly braced, while those of her enemy were pretty 
 much at sixes and sevens. Under such circumstances, it 
 was not difficult to predict the result of the engagement; 
 more especially as the spirits of the Britons seemed to be 
 rising with the duration of the combat. 
 
 I was still making my observations when I heard the 
 crack of a shot and the ripping of plank on the forward part 
 of the quarter-deck. A little group collected around a fall- 
 ing man, and I thought I caught a glimpse of Captain 
 Rowley's uniform and epaulettes in the sufferer. In an in- 
 stant I was on the spot. Sure enough, there was my old 
 friend grievously wounded. Clements was also there. 
 Catching my eye, he observed : 
 
 " As you are doing nothing, sir, will you assist in carry- 
 ing Captain Rowley below? '' 
 
 I did not like the manner in which this was said, nor the 
 expression of the first lieutenant's eye while saying it. 
 They seemed to me to add: "I shall now command this 
 ship, and we shall see if new lords don't produce new laws." 
 I complied, however, of course, and, aided by two of his own 
 servants, I got the poor old man into the gun-room. The 
 instant the surgeon cast his eyes on the injuries, I saw by 
 his countenance there was no hope. His words soon con- 
 firmed the bad news. 
 
 "The captain cannot live half an hour," this gentleman 
 said to me aside, " and all we can do will be to give him 
 what he asks for. At present he is stupefied by the shock 
 of the blow, but in a few minutes he will probably ask for 
 water, or wine and water; I wish, sir, you would indulge 
 him in his wishes, for you can have no duty to call you on 
 deck. This will be a lucky hit for Clements, who will run 
 off with more than half the credit of the battle, though I 
 fancy the Frenchman has as much as he wants already." 
 
372 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 And SO it turned out, literally, in the end. About twenty 
 minutes after I went below, during which time the Briton 
 did most of the fighting, we heard the cheer of victory on 
 deck. These sounds appeared to cause the wounded man to 
 revive. 
 
 " What means that, Wallingford? " he asked in a stronger 
 voice than I could have thought it possible for him to use. 
 "What do those cheers mean, my young friend? " 
 
 "They mean. Captain Rowley, that you have conquered 
 — that you are master of the French frigate." 
 
 " Master! — am I master of my own life? Of what use is 
 victory to me, now? I shall die — die soon, Wallingford, 
 and there will be an end of it all! My poor wife will call 
 this a melancholy victory." 
 
 Alas! what could I say? These words were only too true 
 as respects himself, and, I dare say, as respected his wife 
 also. Die he did, and in my presence, and that calmly, 
 with all his senses about him; but, I could see, he had his 
 doubts whether a little lustre like that which attended his 
 end was fulfilling all the objects of his being. The near 
 view of death places a man on a moral eminence, whence he 
 commands prospects before and behind, on each side and 
 on every side, enabling him to overlook the whole scene of 
 life from its commencement to its close, and to form an 
 opinion of his own place in a drama that is about to close. 
 Like many of those who exhibit themselves for our amuse- 
 ment, and to purchase our applause, he is only too apt to 
 quit the stage less satisfied with his own performances than 
 the thoughtless multitude, who, regarding merely the surfaces 
 of things, are too often loudest in their approbation when 
 there is the least to praise. 
 
 I shall pass over the next ten days, with a very brief al- 
 lusion to their events. The first proof I had of Mr. Clements 
 being commanding officer was my being transferred from 
 the cabin to the gun-room. It is true, there was no want of 
 space in my new apartment, for officering and manning the 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3/3 
 
 prize had left several state-rooms vacant in the Britons' 
 gun-room, which fell to the shares of the French prisoners 
 and myself. Poor Captain Rowley was preserved in spirits; 
 and then things went on pretty much as before, with the ex- 
 ception that our crippled condition and reduced crew ren- 
 dered us no longer anxious to fall in with Frenchmen. I 
 may say, in this place also, that now the excitement which 
 had carried him away was gone, Marble was profoundly 
 ashamed of the part he had taken in the late affair. He had 
 fought under English colors once more; and, though I sel- 
 dom dared to allude to the thing, it is my opinion he heartily 
 regretted his conduct to his dying day. As for Neb, all 
 seemed right enough in his eyes; for, though he well under- 
 stood the distinctions between flags and countries, he always 
 imagined it a duty to stick by the craft in which he hap- 
 pened to be. 
 
 Ten days after I had been living under the rkgitne of 
 " new lords and new laws," we fell in with a frigate, in the 
 chops of the Channel, and exchanged signals with her. 
 The reader will judge of Marble's and my dissatisfaction 
 when we heard it announced that the ship which was then 
 fast approaching us was the Speedy. There was no help 
 for it, however; she was already within gunshot, and soon 
 rounded-to, within hail of the Briton, which ship had hove-to, 
 to wait for her. In a few minutes Lord Harry Dermond, in 
 person, was alongside of us in a boat, to show his orders to 
 Captain Rowley, and report himself, as the junior captain. 
 I could not quit the quarter-deck, from a desire to ascertain, 
 if possible, what had become of Sennit and his companions, 
 though prudence dictated concealment. 
 
 Clements met the young nobleman at the gangway, and, 
 apologizing for not going on board the Speedy, on account 
 of the state of his boats, reported the late action and its 
 results. Lord Harry then found himself the senior instead 
 of the junior commander, and he immediately began to ask 
 questions. He was in the midst of these interrogatories 
 
374 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 when his eye suddenly fell on me. He and Clements were 
 walking on the quarter-deck together, and I had gone into 
 the gangway to escape his notice, when this unexpected rec- 
 ognition took place. It occurred as the two were turning 
 in their walk, and were so near me that I could hear what 
 was said between them. 
 
 " Whom have you there leaning against the cutter, Mr. 
 Clements? " demanded the captain of the Speedy. "It's a 
 face I know — some old shipmate of mine, I fancy." 
 
 " I rather think not, my lord — it's a Yankee we picked 
 up at sea in a boat, a Captain Wallingford, of the American 
 ship Dawn. His vessel foundered in a gale, and all hands 
 were lost but this gentleman, his mate, and a negro. We 
 have had them on board, now, more than three months." 
 
 A long, low whistle escaped from Lord Harry Dermond, 
 who immediately walked up to me, raised his hat, and com- 
 menced a very disagreeable sort of a dialogue by saying: 
 
 "Your servant, Mr. Wallingford! We meet under very 
 unusual circumstances, and somewhat often. The last time 
 was at a rather interesting moment to me, and one in which 
 I was so much engaged that I had not leisure properly to 
 pay my respects to you. Mr. Clements, I have a little busi- 
 ness to transact with this gentleman, and must ask the favor 
 of your company and his for a few minutes in your cabin." 
 
 No objection could be raised to this request; and I fol- 
 lowed the two officers into the Briton's cabin. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 O I hae scarce to lay me on, 
 
 If kingly fields were ance my ain ; 
 
 Wi' the moor-cock on the mountain-bree. 
 
 But hardship na'er can daunton me. 
 
 Scottish Song. 
 
 There was an air of cool deliberation about Lord Harry 
 Dermond, which satisfied me I should have to pass through 
 a trying ordeal ; and I prepared myself for the occasion. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 375 
 
 Nothing was said until all three of us were in the after- 
 cabin, when Clements and his visitor took seats on the sofa, 
 and a motion was made to me to occupy a chair. Then Lord 
 Harry Dermond commenced the discourse, in a manner 
 more serious than I could have wished. 
 
 "Mr. Wallingford," he said, "there is little need of pre- 
 liminaries between you and me. I recollected your ship, 
 when the Black Prince and Speedy were in the act of clos- 
 ing with the Frenchmen, three months since; and I need 
 scarcely say that the manner in which she got back to the 
 place where I then saw her, requires an explanation at your 
 hands." 
 
 " It shall be given to you, my lord. Believing you had 
 no right to send in the Dawn, and knowing that a detention 
 of any length would prove my ruin, I regained possession 
 of my own by the best means that offered.'^ 
 
 "This is at least frank, sir. You mean to be understood 
 that you rose on my people in the night, murdered them, 
 and that you subsequently lost your vessel from a want of 
 force to take care of her." 
 
 "This is partly true, and partly a mistake. I certainly 
 should not have lost my ship had I been as strong-handed 
 in the gale in which she was destroyed, as she was the day 
 she left home ; and she would have been as strong in that 
 gale, had we never fallen in with the Speedy." 
 
 " Which is an indirect manner of saying that the wreck 
 was owing to us ? " 
 
 "I shall very directly say, that I think it was; though by 
 indirect means." 
 
 " Well, sir, on that point it is not probable we shall ever 
 agree. You cannot suppose that the servants of the King 
 of Great Britain will submit to your American mode of con- 
 struing public law; but will easily understand that we leave 
 such matters to our own admiralty judges. It is a matter of 
 more moment to me, just now, to ascertain what has become 
 of the officers and men that were put in charge of your ship. 
 
3/6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 I saw the vessel, some time after I put Mr. Sennit and his 
 party on board you, in your possession ; that we ascertained 
 by means of our glasses; and you now admit that you re- 
 took your vessel from these men. What has become of the 
 prize crew ? " 
 
 I briefly related the manner in which we had regained the 
 possession of the Dawn. The two English officers listened 
 attentively, and I could discern a smile of incredulity on 
 the countenance of Clements; while the captain of the 
 Speedy seemed far from satisfied — though he was not so 
 much disposed to let his real opinion be known. 
 
 "This is a very well-concocted and well-told tale, my 
 lord," said the first, with a sneer; "but I doubt whether it 
 find many believers in the British service." 
 
 " The British service, sir," I coldly retorted, " is, like all 
 others, liable to reverses and accidents." 
 • " Not exactly of this nature, Mr. Wallingford, you will 
 yourself admit, on reflection. But I beg pardon, my lord; 
 this is your affair — not mine; and I have been indiscreet 
 in speaking." 
 
 Lord Harry Dermond looked as if he concurred in this 
 sentiment. He had the pride of official rank, and that of 
 private rank, to the usual degree; and did not exactly like 
 the notion that one so much his inferior in both should take 
 an affair so peculiarly his own out of his hands. He made 
 a cold acknowledging bow, therefore, in reply, and paused 
 a moment, like a man who reflected, ere he continued the 
 discourse. 
 
 "You must be aware, Mr. Wallingford, it is my duty to 
 inquire closely into this matter," he at length resumed. " I 
 am just out of port, where my ship has been lying to refit, 
 several weeks, and it is not probable that either of my offi- 
 cers would be in England without reporting himself, had he 
 reached home." 
 
 " It is quite probable, my lord, that neither has reached 
 home. I saw them picked up, with my own eyes, and by 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3/7 
 
 what appeared to me to be an outward-bound West India- 
 man. In that case, they have, most probably, all been car- 
 ried to one of the West India islands." 
 
 Here Clements handed Lord Harry Dermond a paper 
 with something written on it, in pencil, which the latter 
 read. After running his eyes over it, the captain nodded 
 his head, and the lieutenant quitted the cabin. While he 
 was absent, my companion, in a polite manner, gave me the 
 particulars of the combat I had witnessed, going so far as to 
 direct my attention to a paper he had brought on board, to 
 show to Captain Rowley, and which contained the English 
 official account of the whole affair. On glancing at it, I 
 saw that the presence of the Dawn, on that occasion, was 
 mentioned in the report; the name of the ship being given, 
 with an allusion that was not very clear to the general 
 reader, but which was plain enough to me. It was not long, 
 however, before Clements returned, and, without much cer- 
 emony, he informed me that the gun-room mess waited my 
 appearance to sit down to dinner. On this hint, I rose and 
 took my leave, though I had time to see Marble enter the 
 cabin, and Neb standing by the scuttle-butt, under the 
 charge of the sentinel, ere I dipped my head under hatches. 
 
 The dinner lasted near an hour, and Lord Harry Dermond 
 civilly waited all that time before he again summoned me 
 to the cabin. I was surprised to find Marble in the outer 
 cabin, Neb near the door, in waiting, and the two officers 
 with pen, ink, and paper before them, where they had been 
 left by me. 
 
 " Mr. Wallingford," Lord Harry commenced, " I hold it to 
 be no more than fair to let you know that your mate's ac- 
 count of the manner in which the Speedy's people got out of 
 the Dawn, and your own, do not agree in a single particu- 
 lar. Here is his statement, taken down by myself from his 
 own words; if you are disposed to hear it, I will read you 
 what he says." * 
 
 " I do not well see how Mr. Marble can contradict me and 
 
37^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 tell the truth, my lord — but it were better I should hear his 
 statement." 
 
 "*I was first mate of the Dawn, of New York, Miles Wall- 
 ingford master and owner. Captured and ordered in by 
 Speedy, as known. Three days after parting company with 
 the frigate, with Mr. Sennit as prize master. Captain Wall- 
 ingford and I commenced reasoning with that gentleman on 
 the impropriety of sending in a neutral and breaking up a 
 promising voyage, which so overcame the said Lieutenant 
 Sennit, in his mind, that he consented to take the ship's 
 yawl, with a suitable stock of provisions and water, and give 
 us up the ship. Accordingly, the boat was lowered, properly 
 stowed, the most tender anxiety manifested for the party 
 that was to go in her, when the English took their leave 
 with tears in their eyes, and hearty good wishes for our safe 
 arrival at Hamburg.' " 
 
 " Am I to understand you seriously. Lord Harry Dermond, 
 that my mate has actually given you this account of the 
 affair, for fact?" 
 
 " Most seriously, sir. I believe he even offered to swear 
 to it, though I dispensed with that ceremony. Here is the 
 statement of the black. Perhaps you would wish to hear 
 that also?" 
 
 " Anything, my lord, it is your pleasure to communicate." 
 
 " Nebuchadnezzar Clawbonny says, * he belonged to the 
 Dawn — was left in her, when captured by Speedy, and was 
 in her when wrecked. Captain Wallingford ordered Mr. 
 Sennit to quit his ship, or he would make him; and Mr. 
 Sennit obeyed Master Miles, of course.' But I will read no 
 more of this, as a slave's statement can hardly be relied on. 
 Perhaps we ought not to have received it, Mr. Clements? " 
 
 "Your pardon, my lord; it is our duty to protect his 
 Majesty's subjects, in the best mode we can." 
 
 " That may be true, sir; but certain great principles ought 
 never to be overlooked, even when doing our duty. You 
 perceive, Mr. Wallingford, that your companions contradict 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 3/9 
 
 your own account of this affair ; and the most unpleasant 
 suspicions are awakened. I should never justify myself to 
 my superiors, were I to neglect putting you under arrest, and 
 carrying you all in for trial." 
 
 " If my companions have been so ill-judging as to make 
 the statement you say, I can only regret it. I have told you 
 the truth ; and I can add no more. As for the future, I do 
 not suppose any representation of mine will induce you to 
 change your decision." 
 
 " You carry it off well, sir; and I hope you will maintain 
 the same appearance of innocence to the end. The lives of 
 the king's subjects are not to be taken with impunity, never- 
 theless.'' 
 
 " Nor is the property of an American citizen, I trust, my 
 lord. Had I used force to regain my ship, and had I thrown 
 the prize crew into the sea, I conceive I would have been 
 doing no more than was my duty." 
 
 "This is well, sir; and I hope, for your sake, that an 
 English jury will view the affair in the same light. At pres- 
 ent, prepare to go on board the Speedy— for you must not 
 be separated from the important testimony we can find in 
 that ship. As for the citizens you mention, they are bound 
 to submit to the decision of the admiralty courts, and not to 
 take the law into their own hands." 
 
 " We shall see, my lord. When this case reaches my own 
 country, we shall probably hear more of it." 
 
 I uttered this in a sufficiently magnificent manner; and, 
 to own the truth, I felt a little magnificently at the time. I 
 was then young, not three-and-twenty ; and I thought of my 
 country, her independence, her justice, her disposition to do 
 right, her determination to submit to no wrongs, and her 
 disregard of the expedient when principles were concerned 
 — much as young people think of the immaculate qualities 
 of their own parents. According to the decisions of judges 
 of this latter class, there would not be a liar, a swindler, a 
 cheat, or a mercenary scoundrel living; but the earth would 
 
380 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 be filled with so many suffering saints that are persecuted 
 for their virtues. According to the notions of most Ameri- 
 can citizens of my age, the very name they bore ought to be 
 a protection to them in any part of the world, under the pen- 
 alty of incurring the republic's just indignation. How far 
 my anticipations were realized, will be seen in the sequel; 
 and I beg the American reader, in particular, to restrain his 
 natural impatience, until he can learn the facts in the regu- 
 lar order of the narrative. I can safely promise him, that 
 should he receive them in the proper spirit, with a desire to 
 ascertain the truth only, and not to uphold bloated and un- 
 tenable theories, he will be a wiser, and probably a more 
 modest man, for the instruction that is to be thus gleaned 
 from the incidents it will be my painful office to record. 
 As for Lord Harry Dermond, the threatened indignation of 
 the great American nation gave him very little concern. 
 He probably cared a vast deal more for one frown from the 
 admiral who commanded at Plymouth, than for the virtuous 
 resentment of the President and Congress of the United 
 States of America. I am writing of the close of the year 
 1803, it will be remembered; a remote period in the history 
 of the great republic; though I will not take it on myself to 
 say things have materially altered, except it be in the news- 
 papers, in this particular interest. The order to prepare to 
 quit the Briton was repeated, and I was dismissed to the 
 outer cabin, where was Marble, while Mr. Clements at- 
 tempted to shut the door that separated us, though from 
 some cause or other, he did not exactly effect his object. 
 In consequence of this neglect, I overheard the following 
 dialogue: 
 
 " I hope, my lord," said Clements, " you will not think of 
 taking away the mate and the black. They are both first- 
 rate men, and both well affected to his Majesty's service. 
 The negro was of great use aloft during the late action, while 
 the mate fought at a gun, like a tiger, for the better part of 
 an hour. We are somewhat short of hands, and I have 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 38 1 
 
 counted on inducing both of these men to enter. There is 
 the prize money for the Frenchman under our lee, you know, 
 my lord, and I have little doubt of succeeding." 
 
 " I'm sorry duty compels me to take all three, Clements, 
 but I'll bear what you say in mind ; perhaps we can get them 
 to enter on board the Speedy. You know it " 
 
 Here Mr. Clements discovered that the door was not 
 shut, and he closed it tight, preventing my hearing any 
 more. I now turned to Marble, whose countenance betrayed 
 the self-reproach he endured, at ascertaining the injury he 
 had done by his ill-judged artifice. I made no reproaches, 
 however, but squeezed his hand in token of my forgiveness. 
 The poor fellow, I plainly saw, had great difficulty in for- 
 giving himself, though he said nothing at the moment. 
 
 The conference between Lord Harry Dermond and Mr. 
 Clements lasted half an hour. At the end of that time both 
 appeared in the forward cabin, and I saw by the countenance 
 of the last that he had failed in his object. As for us, we 
 were transferred, with the few articles we possessed, to the 
 Speedy, on board which ship our arrival made as much of 
 a sensation as the discipline of a man-of-war would permit. 
 I was put in irons, the moment we reached the quarter- 
 deck, and placed under the charge of a sentinel near the 
 cabin door. Some little attention was paid to my comfort, 
 it is true, and a canvas screen was fitted for me, behind 
 which I ate and slept, with some sort of retirement. My 
 irons were of so large a sort, that I found means to take 
 them off and put them on at pleasure. I was disposed to 
 think that the officers were aware of the fact, and that the 
 things were used as much for the sake of appearance as for 
 anything else. Apart from the confinement and the injury 
 done my affairs, I had no especial cause of complaint, 
 though this imprisonment lasted until the month of April, 
 1804, or quite five months. During this time the Speedy 
 arrived as far south as the line, then she hovered about the 
 Canaries and the Azores on her way homeward, looking in 
 
382 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 vain for another Frenchman. I was permitted to take exer- 
 cise twice a day, once in the gangway, and once on the gun- 
 deck, and my table was actually supplied from the cabin. 
 On no head had I any other cause to complain than the fact 
 that my ship had been wrongfully seized in the first place, 
 and that I was now suffering imprisonment for a crime — if 
 crime indeed it would have been — that I certainly had not 
 been obliged to commit. 
 
 During the five months I thus remained a prisoner on the 
 gun-deck of the Speedy, I never exchanged a syllable with 
 either Marble or Neb. I saw them both occasionally, em- 
 ployed on duty, like the crew, and we often exchanged sig- 
 nificant looks, but never any words. Occasionally I had a 
 visit from an officer, these gentlemen sitting down and con- 
 versing with me on general topics, evidently to relieve the 
 tedium of my confinement, without making any allusion to 
 its cause. I cannot say that my health suffered, a circum- 
 stance that was probably owing to the cleanliness of the 
 ship, and the admirable manner in which she was ventilated. 
 
 At length we went into port carrying with us a French 
 ship from one of the islands to the eastward of the Cape, as 
 a prize. The Speedy captured this vessel after a smart 
 chase to the northward of the Azores, and Marble and Neb 
 having volunteered to do so, were sent on board her, as two 
 of the prize crew. That day I got a visit from the purser, 
 who was the most attentive of all my acquaintances, and I 
 took the liberty of asking him if it were possible my two 
 shipmates had entered into the British service. 
 
 " Why not exactly that," he said, " though they seem to 
 like us, and we think both will ship rather than lose the 
 prize money they might get for their services in the Briton. 
 Your old mate is a prime fellow, the master tells me; but 
 my lord fancying we might meet some French cruiser in the 
 chops of the Channel, thought it better to send these two 
 chaps in the prize lest they should take the studs and refuse 
 to fight at the pinch. They have done duty, they say, to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 383 
 
 keep themselves in good health; and we humor them, to be 
 frank with you, under the notion they may get to like us so 
 well as not to wish to quit us." 
 
 This gave me an insight into the true state of the case, 
 and I felt much easier on the subject. That Marble ever 
 intended to serve under the British flag, I had not supposed 
 for a moment ; but I was not sure that regret for the blunder 
 he had already made, might not lead him into some new 
 mistake of equally serious import under the impression that 
 he was correcting the evil. As for Neb, I knew he would 
 never desert me; and I had not from the first felt any other 
 concern on his account than an apprehension his ignorance 
 might be imposed on. 
 
 The day we anchored in Plymouth Sound was thick and 
 drizzling with a fresh breeze at southwest. The ship came- 
 to just at sunset, her prize bringing up a short distance in- 
 shore of her, as I could see from the port, that formed a sort 
 of window to my little canvas state-room. Just as the ship 
 was secured. Lord Harry Dermond passed into his cabin, 
 accompanied by his first lieutenant, and I overheard him 
 say to the latter — 
 
 " By the way, Mr. Powlett, this prisoner must be removed 
 to some other place in the morning. Now we are so near 
 the land, it is not quite safe to trust him at a port." 
 
 I was still musing on the purport of this remark, when 
 I heard the noise of a boat coming alongside. Putting my 
 head out of the port, I could just see that the prize master 
 of the French ship had come on board, and that Marble and 
 Neb were two of the four men who pulled the oars. Marble 
 saw me, and gave a sign of recognition, though it was so 
 dark as to render it difficult to distinguish objects at a tri- 
 fling distance. This sign I returned in a significant man- 
 ner. It was this answering signal from me that induced my 
 mate not to quit the boat, and to keep Neb with him. The 
 other two men were so accustomed to do duty with the Amer- 
 icanS; that they did not scruple to run up the frigate's side, 
 
384 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 after their officer, eager to get a gossip with their old mess- 
 mates on the berth-deck. Almost at the same instant the 
 officer of the deck called out — 
 
 " Drop la Manerve^s boat astern, out of the way of the 
 captain's gig, which will be hauling up in a minute." 
 
 This was on the larboard side, it is true; but a smart sea 
 slapping against the starboard, Lord Harry was willing to 
 dispense with ceremony, in order to escape a wet jacket. I 
 cannot tell the process of reasoning that induced me to take 
 the step I did ; it was, however, principally owing to the re- 
 mark I had so lately heard, and which brought all the dan- 
 ger of my position vividly to my mind. Whatever may have 
 been the moving cause, I acted as follows : 
 
 My irons were slipped, and I squeezed myself between 
 the gun and the side of the port, where I hung by my hands 
 against the ship's side. I might be seen, or I might not, 
 caring little for the result. I was not seen by any but Mar- 
 ble and Neb, the former of whom caught me by the legs, as 
 he passed beneath, and, whispering to me to lie down in the 
 bottom of the boat, he assisted me into the cutter. We 
 actually rubbed against the captain's gig, as it was hauling 
 up to the gangway; but no one suspected what had just 
 taken place. This gig was the only one of the Speedy's 
 boats that was in the water at that hour, it having just been 
 lowered to carry the captain ashore. In another minute we 
 had dropped astern, Neb holding on by a boat-hook to one 
 of the rudder-chains. Here we lay, until the gig pulled 
 round, close to us, taking the direction toward the usual 
 landing, with the captain of the Speedy in her. 
 
 In two minutes the gig was out of sight, and Marble whis- 
 pered to Neb to let go his hold. This was promptly done, 
 when the boat of the prize began to drift from the ship, 
 swept by a powerful tide, and impelled by a stiff breeze. 
 No one paid any heed to us, everybody's thoughts being 
 occupied with the shore and the arrival at such a moment. 
 The time was fortunate in another particular : Lord Harry 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 385 
 
 Dermond was a vigilant and good officer; but his first lieu- 
 tenant was what is called on board ship " a poor devil " ; a 
 phrase that is sufficiently significant; and the moment a 
 vigilant captain's back is turned, there is a certain ease and 
 neglect in a vessel that has an indifferent first lieutenant. 
 Every one feels at liberty to do more as he pleases, than has 
 been his wont; and where there is a divided responsibility 
 of this nature, few perform more duty than they can help. 
 When "the cat is away, the mice come out to play." 
 
 At all events, our boat continued to drop astern unob- 
 served, until the ship itself became very faintly visible to us. 
 I arose as soon as we were fifty feet from the rudder, and I 
 assumed the direction of affairs as soon as on my feet. 
 There were a mast and a lugg-sail in the boat, and we 
 stepped the former and set the last as soon as far enough 
 from the Speedy to be certain we could not be seen. Put- 
 ting the helm up sufficiently to bring the wind on the quar- 
 ter, I then stood directly out to sea. All this was accom- 
 plished in less than five minutes, by means of what the 
 French call a sudden inspiration ! 
 
 To be sure, our situation was sufficiently awkward, now 
 we had obtained something that had the semblance of free- 
 dom. Neither of us had a single shilling of money, or an 
 article of clothing but those we wore. There was not a 
 mouthful of food of any sort in the boat, nor a drop of water. 
 The night was lowering and intensely dark, and the wind 
 was blowing fresher than was at all desirable for a boat. 
 Still we determined to persevere, and we ran boldly off the 
 land, trusting our common fate to Providence. I hoped we 
 might fall in with some American, bound in or out; should 
 that fail us, France might be reached, if we had good luck, 
 in the course of less than eight-and-forty hours. 
 
 Our situation afforded nothing to occupy the mind but 
 anxiety. We could not see a hundred yards, possessed no 
 compass, or any other guide on our way than the direction 
 of the wind, and were totally without the means of refresh- 
 
386 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ment or shelter. Still, we managed to sleep by turns, each 
 having entire confidence in the skill of both the others. In 
 this manner we got through the night, feeling no apprehen- 
 sions of being pursued, the darkness affording an effectual 
 cover. 
 
 When the light returned, we discovered nothing in pur- 
 suit, though the weather was too thick to admit of our seeing 
 any great distance around the boat. All the morning we 
 continued running to the northward and eastward, under our 
 single lugg reefed, only keeping clear of the seas that chased 
 us by dint of good management. As for eating or drinking, 
 the first was out of the question ; though we began to make 
 some little provision to slake our thirst by exposing our 
 handkerchiefs to the drizzle, in order to wring them when 
 they should become saturated with water. The coolness of 
 the weather, however, and the mist, contributed to prevent 
 our suffering much, and I do not know that I felt any great 
 desire for either food or water, until toward the middle of 
 the day. Then we began to converse together on the sub- 
 ject of dinner, in a jocular way, however, rather than with 
 any very great longings on the subject. While thus em- 
 ployed, Neb suddenly exclaimed, "Dere a sail! " 
 
 Sure enough, a ship was meeting us, heading up on the 
 larboard tack about west- northwest, as she stretched in 
 toward the English coast. I can see that vessel in my 
 mind's eye even at this distant day. She had two reefs in 
 her topsails, with spanker, jib, and both courses set, like a 
 craft that carried convenient, rather than urgent canvas. 
 Her line of sailing would take her about two hundred yards 
 to leeward of us, and my first impulse was to luff. A second 
 glance showed us that she was an English frigate, and we 
 doused our lugg as soon as possible. Our hearts were in 
 our mouths for the next five minutes. My eye never turned 
 from that frigate as she hove by us, now rising on the sum- 
 mit of a sea, now falling gracefully into the trough, conceal- 
 ing everything but her spars from sight. Glad enough 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 387 
 
 were we when she had got so far ahead as to bring us well 
 on her weather-quarter, though we did not dare set our sail 
 again, until her dark, glistening hull, with its line of frown- 
 ing ports, was shut up in the cloud of mist, leaving the spot 
 on the ocean, where she had last been seen as if she were 
 not. That was one of those hairbreadth escapes that often 
 occur to men engaged in hazardous undertakings, without 
 any direct agency of their own. 
 
 Our next adventure was of a more pleasing character. 
 A good-sized ship was made astern, coming up Channel be- 
 fore the wind, and carrying topmast studding-sails. She 
 was an American! On this point we were all agreed, and 
 placing ourselves in her track, we ran off, on her course, 
 knowing that she must be going quite two feet to our one. 
 In twenty minutes she passed close to us, her officers and 
 crew manifesting the greatest curiosity to learn who and 
 what we were. So dexterously did Marble manage the boat, 
 that we got a rope, and hauled alongside without lessening 
 the ship's way, though she nearly towed us under water in 
 the attempt. The moment we could, we leaped on deck, 
 abandoning the boat to its fate. 
 
 We had not mistaken the character of the vessel. It was 
 a ship from James River, loaded with tobacco, and bound 
 to Amsterdam. Her master heard our story, believed it, 
 and felt for us. We only remained with him a week, how- 
 ever, quitting his vessel off the coast of Holland, to go to 
 Hamburg, where I fancied my letters would have been sent, 
 and whence I knew it would be equally in our power to 
 reach home. At Hamburg, I was fated to meet with disap- 
 pointment. There was not a line for me, and we found 
 ourselves without money in a strange place. I did not 
 deem it prudent to tell our story, but we agreed to ship to- 
 gether in some American, and work our way home in the 
 best manner we could. After looking about us a little, ne- 
 cessity compelled us to enter in the first vessel that offered. 
 This was a Philadelphia §hip, called the Schuylkill, on 
 
388 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 board which I shipped as second mate, while Marble and 
 Neb took the berths of foremast Jacks. No one questioned 
 us as to the past, and we had decided among ourselves, to 
 do our duty and keep mum. We used our own names, and 
 that was the extent of our communication on the subject of 
 our true characters. 
 
 I found it a little hard to descend so much on the ladder 
 of life, but an early training enabled me to act Dicky over 
 again, with some credit; and before the ship went to sea, 
 our chief mate was discharged for drunkenness, and I got a 
 lift. Marble was put in my place, and from that time, for 
 the next five months, things went on smoothly enough; I 
 say five months, for, instead of sailing for home direct, the 
 ship went to Spain, within the Straits, for a cargo of barilla, 
 which she took up to London, where she got a freight for 
 Philadelphia. We were all a little uneasy at finding that 
 our story, with sundry perversions and exaggerations, was in 
 the English papers; but, by the time we reached England, 
 it was forgotten ; having been crowded out by the occurrence 
 of new events of interest, at a moment when every week was 
 teeming with incidents that passed into history. 
 
 Nevertheless, I was glad when we left England, and I 
 once more found myself on the high seas, homeward bound. 
 My wages had enabled me, as well as Marble and Neb, to ' 
 get new outfits, suited to our present stations, and we sailed 
 for Philadelphia with as good a stock of necessaries as usu- 
 ally falls to the lot of men in our respective positions. 
 These were all that remained to me of a ship and cargo that 
 were worth between eighty and ninety thousand dollars! 
 
 The passage proved to be very long, but we reached the 
 capes of the Delaware at last. On the 7th September, 1804, 
 or when I wanted a few weeks of being three-and-twenty, I 
 landed on the wharves of what was then the largest town in 
 America, a ruined and disappointed man. Still I kept up 
 my spirits, leaving my companions in ignorance of the ex- 
 tent of my misfortune. We remained a few days to dis- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 389 
 
 charge the cargo, when we were all three paid off. Neb, 
 who had passed on board the Schuylkill for a free black, 
 brought me his wages, and when we had thrown our joint 
 stock into a common bag, it was found to amount to the sum 
 of one hundred and thirty-two dollars. With this money, 
 then, we prepared to turn our faces north. Marble anxious 
 to meet his mother and little Kitty, Neb desirous of again 
 seeing Chloe, and I to meet my principal creditor, John 
 Wallingford, and to gain some tidings of Mr. Hardinge and 
 Lucy. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 You think I'll weep. 
 
 No, I'll not weep. 
 
 I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart 
 Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, 
 Or ere I'll weep. 
 
 Lear. 
 
 I PASS over the manner and time of our being on the road 
 between Philadelphia and New York, as things belonging 
 to a former age, and to be forgotten. I will merely say that 
 we travelled the South Amboy road, and went through a part 
 of the world called Feather-bed Lane, that causes my bones 
 to ache, even now, in recollection. At South Amboy, we 
 got on board a sloop, or packet, and entered the bay of New 
 York by the passage of the Kills, landing near Whitehall. 
 We were superintending the placing of our chests on a cart, 
 when some one caught my hand, and exclaimed — 
 
 "God bless me! — Captain Wallingford come to life, as I 
 live!" 
 
 It was old Jared Jones, the man who had been miller at 
 Clawbonny from my infancy to the day I left home. I had 
 supposed him to be at work there still ; but the look he gave 
 me — the tears that I could see were forcing themselves from 
 his eyes — his whole manner, indeed, gave me at once to un- 
 
390 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 derstand that all was not right. My countenance, rather 
 than my tongue, demanded an explanation. Jared under- 
 stood me, and we walked together toward the Battery ; leav- 
 ing Marble and Neb to proceed with the luggage to the 
 modest lodgings in which we had proposed to hide ourselves 
 until I had time to look about me — a house frequented by 
 Moses for many years. 
 
 " You perceive I do not return home, Jared, in precisely 
 the condition in which I went abroad. My ship and cargo 
 are both lost, and I come among you, now, a poor man, I 
 fear." 
 
 " We were afraid that something of the sort must have 
 happened, or such bad news would never have reached 
 Clawbonny, sir. Some of your men got back months ago, 
 and they brought the tidings that the Dawn was captivated 
 by the English. From that hour, I think, Mr. Hardinge 
 gave the matter up. The worst news, however, for us — that 
 of your death excepted — was that of the mortgage on Claw- 
 bonny." 
 
 "The mortgage on Clawbonny! Has anything been done 
 in connection with that.'' " 
 
 " Lord bless you, my dear Mr. Miles, it has been fore- 
 closed, under the statue I believe they call it; and it was 
 advertised to be sold three months. Then, when it was sold, 
 how much do you think the place, mill and all, actually 
 brought? Just give a guess, sir." 
 
 "Brought! Clawbonny is then sold, and I am no longer 
 the owner of my father's house ! " 
 
 "Sold, sir; and we have been sent adrift — niggers and 
 all. They said the freedom-laws would soon let all the 
 older blacks be their own masters; and, as to the young 
 'uns, why, your creditors might sell their times. But Mr. 
 Hardinge put the poor critturs into houses, near the rec- 
 tory, and they work about among the neighbors, until things 
 are settled. It's to their credit, Mr. Miles, that not one of 
 *em all thinks of runnin' away. With the feelin' that's up 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 39 1 
 
 in the country consarn in' blacks, and no master to lookarter 
 them, every one of 'em might be off, without risk." 
 
 " And Chloe, my sister's own girl, what has become of 
 Chloe, Jared?" 
 
 " Why, I believe Miss Lucy has tuk her. Miss Lucy is 
 dreadful rich, as all allow; and she has put it in her father's 
 power to take care of all the movables. Every huff [hoof] 
 of living thing that was on the place has been put on the 
 Wright farm, in readiness for their owner, should he ever 
 come to claim them." 
 
 " Has Miss Hardinge had the consideration to hire that 
 farm, with such an object? " 
 
 " They say she has bought it, out of the savings of her in- 
 come. It seems she is mistress of her income, though under 
 age. And this is the use she has made of some of her 
 money." 
 
 " I had supposed she would have been married by this 
 time. Mr. Drewett was thought to be engaged to her when 
 I sailed." 
 
 "Yes; there is much talk about that, through the coun- 
 try; but they say Miss Lucy will never marry, until she has 
 been of age a few weeks, in order that she may do what she 
 pleases with her money, afore a husband can lay his hand 
 on it. Mr. Rupert is married, I s'pose you heard, sir — and 
 living away like a nabob with his bride, in one of the best 
 houses in town. Some people say that he has a right in a 
 part of old Mrs. Bradfort's estate, which he will get as soon 
 as Miss Lucy comes of age." 
 
 I did not like to pursue this part of the discourse any 
 further, though it was balm to my wounds to hear these 
 tidings of Lucy. The subject was too sacred, however, to 
 be discussed with such a commentator, and I turned the dis- 
 course to Clawbonny, and the reports that might have cir- 
 culated there concerning myself. Jones told me all he knew, 
 which was briefly as follows: 
 
 It seems that the second mate of the Dawn, and such of 
 
392 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 her crew as had been put in the Speedy, and who had not 
 been impressed either in the frigate itself, or in England 
 after they were turned ashore, had found their way home, 
 bringing with them an account of the capture of the ship, 
 her extraordinary appearance near the four combatants, and 
 their own attempt to escape. This last affair in particular 
 had made some noise in the journals — a warm discussion 
 having taken place on the subject of the right of Americans 
 to run away with an English man-of-war's boat under the 
 circumstances in which these poor fellows had found them- 
 selves placed. In that day parties in America took as lively 
 an interest in the wars of Europe, as if the country were a 
 belligerent; and politicians, or ^«^« statesmen, were little 
 more than retailers of the most ultra English and ultra 
 French opinions. It was sufficient for the federalists to 
 justify any act, if England did it; while the democrats had 
 almost as strong a disposition to defend all the enormities 
 which the policy of Napoleon led him to commit. I say 
 almost — for, to deal honestly with posterity, I do not think 
 the French-American party was quite as French as the Eng- 
 lish-American party was English. These last had returned 
 to their provincial dependence of thought; and, well read 
 in the English version of all political and moral truths, and 
 little read in those of any other state of society, they be- 
 lieved as he who worships at a distance from the shrine, is 
 known implicitly to yield his faith. The English party had 
 actually a foundation in deeply-rooted opinion, and colonial 
 admiration for the ancient seat of power, whereas the French 
 owed its existence principally to opposition. The alliance 
 of 1778 had some little influence among men old enough to 
 have been active in the events of the Revolution, it is true, 
 but they existed as exceptions even in their own party. It 
 was the English feeling that was natural, hearty, dependent, 
 and deep; the other having been, as has just been stated, 
 rooted as much in opposition, as in any other soil. 
 
 The public discussions of the fate of the Dawn, as a mat- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 393 
 
 ter of course, had drawn much speculation, among my ac- 
 quaintances, to my own. As month passed after month, and 
 no letters reached America, the opinion became very general 
 that the vessel was lost. At length, a ship from Jamaica 
 brought in a blind story of the manner in which I had re- 
 taken my vessel from Sennit; and, it now being known that 
 we were only four left in the vessel, the conjecture was 
 hazarded that we had been wrecked for want of force to take 
 care of the ship; and I was set down as a drowned man. 
 
 Shortly after this opinion of my fate became general 
 among my acquaintances, John Wallingford had appeared 
 at Clawbonny. He made no change, however, spoke kindly 
 to every one, told the slaves nothing should be altered, and 
 gave them every reason to suppose that they would continue 
 under a true Wallingford rkgime. It was generally under- 
 stood he was to be my heir, and no one saw any occasion 
 for the acts of violence that succeeded. 
 
 But, two months after John Wallingford's visit, Mr. Har- 
 dinge, and all connected with Clawbonny, had been astounded 
 by the intelligence of the existence of the mortgage. A fore- 
 closure under the statute, or " statue," as Jared had called 
 it, was commenced, and a few months later the place was 
 publicly sold at Kingston, none bidding more than five thou- 
 sand dollars for it, less than a sixth of its worth. This sac- 
 rifice of real estate, however, under forced sales was, and is, 
 common enough in America, especially; it being generally 
 understood that the creditor is prepared to rise in his bids, 
 as necessity presents. In my case there was no one to pro- 
 tect my rights, Mr. Hardinge having attended the sale pre- 
 pared to reason with my cousin on the propriety and gener- 
 osity of his course, rather than prepared with good current 
 coin to extinguish the claim. John Wallingford did not 
 appear, however, and the sale took place without further 
 competition, than one bid of Mr. Hardinge's; a bid that he 
 was not properly prepared to make, but which he hazarded 
 on his knowledge of Lucy's means and disposition. A man 
 
394 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 of the name of Daggett, a relative of John Wallingford's, by 
 his mother's side, was the ostensible purchaser, and now 
 professed to be the owner of my paternal acres. It was he 
 who had taken possession under the purchase, had dismissed 
 the negroes, and sent off the personal property ; and he it 
 was who had placed new servants on the farm and in the 
 mill. To the surprise of everybody, John Wallingford had 
 not appeared in the transaction, though it was understood he 
 had a legal right to all my remaining effects, in the event of 
 my real death. No will was proved or produced, however, 
 nor was anything heard of, or concerning, my cousin ! Mr. 
 Daggett was a close and reserved man, and nothing could be 
 learned on the subject from him. His right to Clawbonny 
 could not be disputed, and after consulting counsel in the 
 premises, Mr. Hardinge himself had been compelled, reluc- 
 tantly, to admit it. Such was the substance of what I gleaned 
 from the miller, in a random sort of conversation that lasted 
 an hour. Of course, much remained to be explained, but I 
 had learned enough, to know that I was virtually a beggar as 
 to means, whatever I might be in feeling. 
 
 When I parted from Jared I gave him my address, and 
 we were to meet again next day. The old man felt an in- 
 terest in me that was soothing to my feelings, and I wished 
 to glean all I could from him ; more especially concerning 
 Lucy and Mr. Hardinge. I now followed Marble and Neb 
 to the boarding-house, one frequented by masters and mates 
 of ships, the masters being of the humble class to conde- 
 scend thus to mingle with their subordinates. We consumed 
 the rest of the morning in establishing ourselves in our 
 rooms, and in putting on our best round-abouts; for I was 
 not the owner of a coat that had skirts to it, unless, indeed, 
 there might be a few old garments of that sort among the 
 effects that had been removed from Clawbonny to the Wright 
 farm. Notwithstanding this defect in my wardrobe, I 
 would not have the reader suppose I made a mean or a dis- 
 agreeable appearance. On the contrary, standing as I did, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 395 
 
 six feet one, in my shoes, attired in a neat blue round-about 
 of mate's cloth, with a pair of quarter-deck trousers, a clean 
 white shirt, a black silk handkerchief, and a vest of a pretty 
 but modest pattern, I was not at all ashamed to be seen. I 
 had come from England, a country in which clothes are 
 both good and cheap, and a trimmer-looking tar than I 
 then was, seldom showed himself in the lower part of the 
 town. 
 
 Marble and I had dined, and were preparing to sally forth 
 on a walk up Broadway, when I saw a meagre, care-worn, 
 bilious-looking sort of a person enter the house, and proceed 
 toward the bar, evidently with an inquiry concerning some 
 of the inmates. The bar-tender pointed at once to me, when 
 the stranger approached, and with a species of confidence 
 that seemed to proclaim that he fancied news to be the great 
 end of life, and that all who were engaged in its dissemina- 
 tion were privileged beings, he announced himself as Colonel 
 Warbler, the editor of the New York Republican Freeman. 
 I asked the gentleman into the common sitting-room, when 
 the following dialogue took place between us. 
 
 "We have just heard of your arrival. Captain Walling- 
 ford," commenced the colonel^ all New York editors of a cer- 
 tain calibre seeming to be, ex officio^ of that blood-and-thunder 
 rank, " and are impatient to place you, as it might be, rectus 
 in curid before the nation. Your case excited a good deal 
 of feeling some months since, and the public mind may be 
 said to be prepared to learn the whole story ; or, in a happy 
 condition to indulge in further excitement. If you will 
 have the goodness to furnish me with the outlines, sir," 
 coolly producing pen, ink, and paper without further cere- 
 mony, and preparing to write, " I promise you that the whole 
 narrative shall appear in the Freeman of to-morrow, related 
 in a manner of which you shall have no reason to complain. 
 The caption is already written, and if you please, I will 
 read it to you, before we go any further." Then without 
 waiting to ascertain whether I did or did not please to hear 
 
396 
 
 him, the colonel incontinently commenced reading what he 
 called his caption. 
 
 "*In the Schuylkill, arrived lately at Philadelphia, came 
 passenger our esteemed fellow-citizen, Captain Miles Wall- 
 ingford'" — in 1804 everybody had not got to be esquires^ 
 even the editors not yet assuming that title of gentility ex 
 officio. "*This gentleman's wrongs have already been laid 
 before our readers. From his own mouth we learn the fol- 
 lowing outline of the vile and illegal manner in which he 
 has been treated by an English man-of-war, called the 
 Speedy, commanded by a sprig of nobility yclept Lord ' — I 
 have left a blank for the name—* an account which will 
 awaken in the bosom of every true-hearted American senti- 
 ments of horror and feelings of indignation at this new in- 
 stance of British faith and British insolence on the high 
 seas. It will be seen by this account, that not satisfied with 
 impressing all his crew and in otherwise maltreating them, 
 this scion of aristocracy has violated every article of the 
 treaty between the two countries, as respects Captain Wall- 
 ingford himself, and otherwise trodden on every principle 
 of honor; in a word, set at naught all the commandments 
 of God. We trust there will be found no man or set of men 
 in the country to defend such outrageous conduct; and that 
 even the minions of England, employed around the federal 
 presses of our country, will be ready to join with us on this 
 occasion in denouncing British aggression and British 
 usurpation.' There, sir, I trust that is quite to your 
 liking." 
 
 "It is a little ex parte, colonel, as I have quite as much 
 complaint to make of French as of English aggression, hav- 
 ing been twice captured, once by an English frigate, and 
 again by a French privateer. I prefer to tell the whole 
 story, if I am to tell any of it." 
 
 "Certainly, sir; we wish to relate all the enormities of 
 which these arrogant English were guilty." 
 
 " I believe that, in capturing my ship, the English com- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 39/ 
 
 mander did me an act of great injustice, and was the cause 
 
 of my ruin " 
 
 " Stop, sir, if you please," interrupted Colonel Warbler, 
 writing with rapidity and zeal, " and thus caused the ruin 
 of an industrious and honest man ; ay, that ends a period 
 beautifully — well, sir, proceed." 
 
 "But I have no personal ill-treatment to complain of; 
 and the act of the French was of precisely the same charac- 
 ter, perhaps worse, as I had got rid of the English prize 
 crew, when the Frenchman captured us in his turn, and 
 prevented our obtaining shelter and a new crew in France." 
 Colonel Warbler listened with cold indifference. Not a 
 line would he write against the French, belonging to a very 
 extensive school of disseminators of news, who fancy it is a 
 part of their high vocation to tell just as much, or just as 
 little, of any transaction as may happen to suit their own 
 purposes. I pressed the injuries I had received from the 
 French, on my visitor, so much the more warmly on account 
 of the reluctance he manifested to publish it; but all to no 
 purpose. Next morning the Republican Freeman contained 
 just such an account of the affair as comported with the con- 
 sistency of that independent and manly journal, not a word 
 being said about the French privateer, while the account of 
 the proceedings of the English frigate was embellished with 
 sundry facts and epithets that must have been obtained from 
 Colonel Warbler's general stock in trade, as they were cer- 
 tainly not derived from me. 
 
 As soon as I got rid of this gentleman, which was not 
 long after he discovered my desire to press the delinquency 
 of the French on his notice, Marble and I left the house on 
 the original design of strolling up Broadway, and of looking 
 at the changes produced by time. We had actually got a 
 square, when I felt some one touch my elbow; turning, I 
 found it was an utter stranger, with a very eager, wonder- 
 mongering sort of a countenance, and who was a good deal 
 out of breath with running. 
 
39^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "Your pardon, sir; the bar-tender of the house where 
 you lodge, tells me you are Captain Wallingford." I bowed 
 an assent, foreseeing another application ioxjacis. 
 
 " Well, sir, I hope you'll excuse the liberty I am taking, 
 on account of its object. I represent the public, which is 
 ever anxious to obtain the earliest information on all mat- 
 ters of general concernment, and I feel emboldened by duty 
 to introduce myself — Colonel Positive, of the Federal Truth 
 Teller, a journal that your honored father once did us the 
 favor to take. We have this moment heard of the atrocities 
 committed on you. Captain Wallingford, by * a brigand of 
 a French piratical, picarooning, plundering vagabond,'" 
 reading from what I dare say was another caption, prepared 
 for the other side of the question, " * a fresh instance of 
 Gallic aggression, and republican, Jacobinical insolence; 
 atrocities that are of a character to awaken the indignation 
 of every right-thinking American, and which can only find 
 abettors among that portion of the community which, pos- 
 sessing nothing, is never slow to sympathize in the success 
 of this robber, though it be at the expense of American 
 rights, and American prosperity.' " 
 
 As soon as Colonel Positive had read this much, he 
 stopped to take breath, looking at me, as if expecting some 
 exclamations of admiration and delight. 
 
 " I have suffered by means of what I conceive to be a 
 perfectly unauthorized act of a French privateer. Colonel 
 Positive,'' I replied; "but this wrong would not have been 
 done me, had I not suffered previously by what I conceive 
 to be an equally unjustifiable act of the English frigate, the 
 Speedy, commanded by Captain Lord Harry Dermond, a 
 son of the Irish Marquis of Thole." 
 
 "Bless me, sir, this is very extraordinary! An English 
 frigate, did you say ? It is very unusual for the vessels of 
 that just nation ever to be guilty of an aggression, particu- 
 larly as our common language, common descent, Saxon 
 ancestors, and Saxon English, and all that sort of thing, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 399 
 
 you know, operate against it; whereas, sorry I am to say, 
 each new arrival brings us some fresh instance of the atroc- 
 ities of the myrmidons of this upstart Emperor of the 
 French, a man, sir, whose deeds, sir, have never been paral- 
 leled since the days of Nero, Caligula, and all the other 
 tyrants of antiquity. If you will favor me. Captain Walling- 
 ford, with a few of the particulars of this last atrocity of 
 Bonaparte, I promise you it shall be circulated far and near, 
 and that in a way to defy the malignant and corrupt perver- 
 sions of any man or set of men." 
 
 I had the cruelty to refuse compliance. It made no dif- 
 ference, however, for next day the Federal Truth Teller 
 had an account of the matter, that was probably as accurate 
 as if I had related all the events myself, and which was also 
 about as true as most of the jeremiads of the journals that 
 are intended for brilliant effect. It was read with avidity 
 by all the federalists of America, while its counterpart in 
 the Republican Freeman, pdissed, pari passu, through all the 
 democratic papers, and was devoured with a similar appe- 
 tite by the whole of that side of the question. This distinc- 
 tion, I afterward ascertained, was made by nearly the whole 
 country. If a federalist was my auditor, he would listen all 
 day to that part of my story which related to the capture by 
 the French privateer, while it was vice versd with the demo- 
 crats. Most of the merchants being federalists, and the 
 English having so much more connection with my narrative 
 than the French, I soon found I was making myself exceed- 
 ingly unpopular by speaking on the subject at all ; nor was 
 it long before a story got in circulation, that I was nothing 
 but a runaway English deserter myself — I, the fifth Miles of 
 my name at Clawbonny! As for Marble, men were ready 
 to swear he had robbed his captain, and had got off from an 
 English two-decker only four years before. It is unneces- 
 sary to tell people of the world the manner in which stories 
 to the prejudice of an unpopular man are fabricated, and 
 with what industry they are circulated ; so I shall leave the 
 
400 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 reader to imagine what would have been our fate, had we 
 not possessed the prudence to cease dwelling on our wrongs. 
 Instead of thinking of appealing to the authorities of my 
 country for redress, I felt myself fortunate in having the 
 whole affair forgotten as soon as possible, leaving me some 
 small portion of character. 
 
 1 confess, while returning home, I had sometimes fancied 
 I might be protected by the country of which I was a native, 
 for which I had fought, and to which I paid taxes; but I 
 was only three-and-twenty, and did not then understand the 
 workings of laws, particularly in a state of society that sub- 
 mits to have its most important interests under foreign con- 
 trol. Had I received a wrong from only a Frenchman, or 
 an Englishman, I should have fared a little better, in ap- 
 pearance at least, though my money was irretrievably gone; 
 for one political party or the other, as the case might have 
 been, would have held me up to ex parte sympathy, so long 
 as it suited its purposes, or until the novelty of some new 
 case offered an inducement to supplant me. But I had been 
 wronged by both belligerents, and it was soon agreed, by 
 mutual consent, to drop the whole subject. As for redress 
 or compensation, I was never fool enough to seek it. On 
 the contrary, finding how unpopular it made a man among 
 the merchants to /r^z/^ anything against Great Britain just 
 at that moment, I was wisely silent, thus succeeding in sav- 
 ing my character, which would otherwise have followed my 
 property, as the shortest method of making a troublesome 
 declaimer hold his tongue. 
 
 Most young persons will doubtless hesitate to believe 
 that such a state of things could ever have existed in a na- 
 tion calling itself independent; but, in the first place, it 
 must be remembered, that the passions of factions never 
 leave their followers independent of their artifices and de- 
 signs; and, in the next place, all who knew the state of this 
 country in 1804, must admit it was not independent in mind, 
 of either England or France. Facts precede thought in 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4OI 
 
 everything among us; and public opinion was as much in 
 arrears of the circumstances of the country, then, as — as — 
 to what shall I liken it? — why, as it is to-day. I know no 
 better or truer parallel. I make no doubt that the same 
 things would be acted over again, were similar wrongs to be 
 committed by the same powerful belligerents. 
 
 Marble was ludicrously enraged at these little instances 
 of the want of true nationality in his countrymen. He was 
 not a man to be bullied into holding his tongue; and, for 
 years afterward, he expressed his opinions on the subject 
 of an American's losing his ship and cargo, as I had lost 
 mine, without even a hope of redress, with a freedom that 
 did more credit to his sense of right than to his prudence. 
 As for myself, as has just been said, I never even attempted 
 to procure justice. I knew its utter hopelessness; and the 
 Dawn and her cargo went with the hundreds of other ships 
 and cargoes that were sunk in the political void created by 
 the declaration of war in 18 12. 
 
 This is an unpleasant subject to me. I could gladly have 
 passed it over, for it proves that the political association of 
 this country failed in one of the greatest ends of all such 
 associations; but nothing is ever gained by suppressing 
 truth, on such a matter. Let those who read reflect on the 
 past : it may possibly have a tendency to render the future 
 more secure, giving to the American citizen, in reality, 
 some of those rights which it so much accords with our 
 habits to boast of his possessing. If concealment did any 
 good, I would gladly be silent; but diseases in the body 
 politic require a bold and manly treatment, even more than 
 those in the physical system. I remember the tone of the 
 presses of the trading towns of this country on the subject 
 of the late French treaty — one of the most flagitious in- 
 stances of contempt, added to wrong, of which history sup- 
 plies an instance, and will own I do not feel much encour- 
 aged to hope for any great improvement. 
 
 After we got rid of Colonel No. 2, Marble and I contin- 
 36 • 
 
402 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ued our walk. We passed several persons of my acquaint- 
 ance, but not one of them recognized me in my present 
 attire. I was not sorry to see this, as I was wearied of my 
 story, and could gladly remain in a species of incognito, for 
 a few days. But New York was comparatively a small 
 town in 1804, and everybody knew almost everybody's face 
 who was anybody. There was little real hope, therefore, of 
 my escaping recognition for any great length of time. 
 
 We strolled up above St. Paul's, then a high quarter of 
 the town, and where a few houses had been erected in what 
 was then a new and enlarged style. On the stoop of one of 
 these patrician residences — to use a word that has since 
 come much into use — I saw a fashionably-dressed man, 
 standing, picking his teeth, with the air of its master. I 
 had nearly passed this person, when an exclamation from 
 him, and his calling my mate by name, caused me to stop. 
 It was Rupert ! 
 
 "Marble, my dear fellow, why, how fare you? " said our 
 old shipmate, descending the steps, with an indolent, half- 
 cordial, half -condescending manner; extending his hand at 
 the same time, which Moses received and shook heartily. 
 "The sight of you reminds me of old times and saltwater! " 
 
 " Mr. Hardinge," answered my mate, who knew nothing 
 of Rupert's defects, beyond his want of appetite for the sea, 
 " I'm heartily glad to fall in with you. Do your father and 
 handsome sister live here? " 
 
 "Not they, old Moses," answered Rupert, still without 
 casting his eyes on me. " This is my own house, in which 
 I shall be very happy to see you, and to make you acquainted 
 with my wife, who is also an old acquaintance of yours — 
 Miss Emily Merton that was — the daughter of General 
 Merton, of the British army." 
 
 " Blast the British army ! and blast the British navy, too ! " 
 cried Marble, with more feeling than manners. "But for 
 the last, our old friend Miles, here, would now be a rich 
 man." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4O3 
 
 " Miles! " Rupert repeated, with an astonishment that had 
 more nature in it than had been usual with him of late 
 years. " This is true, then, and you have not been lost at 
 sea, Wallingford? " 
 
 " I am living, as you may see, Mr. Hardinge, and glad of 
 this opportunity to inquire after your father and sister." 
 
 "Both are well, I thank you; the old gentleman, in par- 
 ticular, will be delighted to see you. He has felt your mis- 
 fortune keenly, and did all he could to avert the sad affair 
 about Clawbonny. You know he could as well raise a 
 million, as raise five or ten thousand dollars; and poor Lucy 
 is still a minor, and can only touch her income, the savings 
 of which were insufficient, just then. We did all we could, 
 I can assure you, Wallingford; but I was about commenc- 
 ing housekeeping, and was in want of cash at the moment, 
 and you know how it is under such circumstances. Poor 
 Clawbonny! I was exceedingly sorry when I heard of it; 
 though they say this Mr. Daggett, your successor, is going 
 to do wonders with it — a capitalist, they tell me, and able 
 to carry out all his plans." 
 
 " I am glad Clawbonny has fallen into good hands, since 
 it has passed out of mine. Good evening, Mr. Hardinge, I 
 shall take an early opportunity to find your father, and to 
 learn the particulars." 
 
 "Yes; he'll be exceedingly glad to see you, Wallingford; 
 and I'm sure it will always afford me pleasure to aid you, 
 in any way I can. I fear it must be very low water with 
 you?" 
 
 " If having nothing to meet a balance of some twenty or 
 thirty thousand dollars of unpaid debt is what you call low 
 water, the tide is out of my pocket, certainly. But I shall 
 not despair; I am young, and have a noble, manly profes- 
 sion." 
 
 "Yes, I dare say you'll do remarkably well, Wallingford," 
 Rupert answered, in a patronizing manner. "You were 
 always an enterprising f eltew ; and one need have no great 
 
404 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 concern for you. It would hardly be delicate to ask you to 
 see Mrs. Hardinge, just as you are — not but you appear un- 
 commonly well in your round-about, but I know precisely 
 how it is with young men when there are ladies in the case; 
 and Emily is a little over-refined, perhaps." 
 
 " Yet, Mrs. Hardinge has seen me often in a round-about, 
 and passed hours in my company, when I have been dressed 
 just as I am at this moment." 
 
 " Ay, at sea. One gets used to everything at sea. Good 
 evening; I'll bear you in mind, Wallingford, and may do 
 something for you. I am intimate with the heads of all the 
 principal mercantile houses, and shall bear you in mind, 
 certainly. Good evening, Wallingford. A word with you, 
 Marble, before we part." 
 
 I smiled bitterly, and walked proudly from before Ru- 
 pert's door. Little did I then know that Lucy was seated 
 within thirty feet of me, listening to Andrew Drewett's con- 
 versation and humor. Of the mood in which she was list- 
 ening, I shall have occasion to speak presently. As for 
 Marble, when he overtook me, I was informed that Rupert 
 had stopped him in order to ascertain our address; a piece 
 of condescension for which I had not the grace to be thank- 
 ful. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 The weary sun hath made a golden set, 
 And, by the bright track of his fiery car, 
 Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. 
 
 Shakspeark. 
 
 I WAS quite as much surprised at my own manner toward 
 Rupert, as he could be himself. No doubt he ascribed it to 
 my fallen fortune, for, at the commencement of the inter- 
 view, he was a good deal confused, and his confidence rose 
 in proportion as he fancied mine was lessened. The mod- 
 eration I manifested, however, was altogether owing to Lucy, 
 whose influence on my feelings never ceased., As for Mar- 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4O5 
 
 ble, he thought all was right, and was very decided in his 
 approval of Rupert's behavior and appearance. 
 
 " 'Tisn't every man that can make a seaman, Miles," he 
 said, "for it's a gift that comes nat'rally, like singing, or 
 rope-dancing. I dare say Rupert will do very well ashore, 
 in the gentleman line, though he's no great catch afloat, as 
 all will admit who ever sailed with him. The lad don't 
 want for stuff, but it's shore stuff a'ter all; and that will 
 never pass muster in blue water. I dare say, now, this 
 Imperor-Gineral, Bonaparte, would make a bloody poor 
 shipmaster, if a body was to try him." 
 
 I made no answer, and we strolled on until dark. Then 
 we returned to our lodgings, and turned in. Next morning 
 we breakfasted with the rest, and I was about to set out in 
 search of a lawyer, to take his opinion on the subject of my 
 insurance, though I had little or no hope of recovering any- 
 thing, when I was told two gentlemen wished to see me. 
 At first sight, I fancied that more editors were in quest of 
 news; but we were no sooner alone together, than one of 
 these persons let me into the secret of his errand, in a way 
 that was well enough as respects the suaviter in modo, while 
 it could not be said to be in the least deficient in iheforiiier 
 in re. 
 
 "I am sorry to say. Captain Wallingford," this person 
 commenced, " that I have a writ to arrest you, for a sum that 
 will require very respectable bail, no less than sixty thou- 
 sand dollars." 
 
 "Well done, my upright cousin," I muttered; "this is 
 losing no time, certainly. I owe half that money, I admit, 
 sir, if my farm only sold for five thousand dollars, as I hear, 
 and I suppose I am arrested for the penalty of my bond. 
 But, at whose suit am I thus pursued t " 
 
 Here, the second person announced himself as the attor- 
 ney of the plaintiff, excusing his presence on the pretence 
 that he hoped to be of service in amicably arranging the 
 affair. • 
 
406 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " My client is Mr. Thomas Daggett, of Clawbonny, Ulster 
 county, who holds your bonds as the administrator of the 
 estate of the late John Wallingford, deceased, a gentleman 
 to whom I believe you were related." 
 
 " The late John Wallingford ! Is my cousin then dead ? " 
 
 " He departed this life eight months since, dying quite 
 unexpectedly. Letters of administration have been granted 
 to Mr. Daggett, who is a son of his mother's sister, and a 
 principal heir, the party dying intestate. It is a great pity 
 that the law excludes you from the succession, being as you 
 are of the name." 
 
 " My kinsman gave me reason to think I was to be his 
 heir, as it was understood he was to be mine. My will in 
 his favor was left in his hands." 
 
 " We are aware of that, sir, and your death being sup- 
 posed, for a considerable period, it was thought your per- 
 sonals would descend to us, in part, by devise, which might 
 have prevented the necessity of taking the unpleasant step 
 to which we are now driven. The question was, which died 
 first, you, or your cousin, and that fact, you will easily un- 
 derstand, we had no means of establishing. As it is, the 
 duty of the administrator compels him to proceed, with as 
 little delay as possible." 
 
 " I have no alternative, then, but to go to jail. I know 
 not the person on earth I can or could ask to become my 
 bail for a sum as large as even that I justly owe, to say noth- 
 ing of the penalty of the bond." 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear this. Captain Wallingford," Mr. 
 Meekly, the attorney, very civilly replied. " We will walk 
 together, leaving the officer to follow. Perhaps the matter 
 may be arranged amicably." 
 
 " With all my heart, sir. But, before quitting this house, 
 I will discharge my bill, and communicate my position to a 
 couple of friends, who are waiting in the passage." 
 
 Neb was one of these friends, for I felt I was fast getting 
 into a condition which rendered the friendship of even my 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 40/ 
 
 slaves of importance to me. That worthy fellow and Mar- 
 ble joined us on a signal from me, when I simply let them 
 into the secret of my affairs. 
 
 " Arrested ! " said Moses, eying the sheriff's officer with 
 sovereign contempt, though he was a sturdy fellow, and one 
 who had every disposition to do his duty. "Arrested! 
 Why, Miles, you can handle both these chaps yourself, and 
 with Neb's and my assistance, could work 'em up into spun- 
 yarn without a winch! " 
 
 "That may be true, Moses, but I cannot handle the law, 
 even with your powerful aid; nor should I wish to if I 
 could. I am bound to jail, my friends, having no bail, 
 so " 
 
 "Bail! Why 7'11 be your bail; and if you want two, 
 there's Neb." 
 
 "I fancy the gentleman don't much understand being 
 taken on a writ," the attorney simpered. 
 
 "I not understand it! That's a bloody poor guess of 
 your'n, my friend. When we had the scrape with the Ham- 
 burghers, in Philadelphy, it's now coming thirty years " 
 
 " Never mind all that just now, Moses. I wish you to 
 pay my bill here; give Neb the small bag of my clothes to 
 bring up to the jail, and keep my other effects under your 
 own care. Of course you will come to see me by-and-by; 
 but I now order you not to follow us." 
 
 I then left the house with a rapidity that gave the officer 
 some uneasiness, I believe. Once in the street, however, 
 my pace became more moderate, and dropping alongside of 
 the attorney, we fell into discourse on the subject of the 
 arrangement. 
 
 "To be frank with you, Captain Wallingford," said 
 Meekly, "my client never expects to recover the full amount 
 of his demand; it being understood your personals are now 
 limited to certain jewelry, the stock of your late farm, a few 
 negroes, a sloop, some furniture, etc. No, sir, we do not 
 expect to obtain the wfeole of our demand. Certain securi- 
 
408 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ties in our hands will extinguish much of it, though a large 
 balance will remain." 
 
 " As Mr. Daggett has already got real estate richly worth 
 five-and-thirty thousand dollars, and which brings a clear 
 two thousand a year, to say nothing of its advantages as a 
 residence, besides bonds and mortgages for twenty-odd thou- 
 sand more, I am fully sensible of his moderation. The 
 forty thousand dollars I owed my cousin will be amply re- 
 paid to his heirs, though I pass my life in jail." 
 
 "You misapprehend the affair, entirely. Mr. Daggett 
 does not hold Clawbonny as administrator at all, but as a 
 purchaser under a mortgage sale. He did not buy it him- 
 self, of course, but has received a deed from a nephew of 
 his, who was a bona fide bidder. The amount bid — five thou- 
 sand two hundred and fifty dollars — is duly endorsed on 
 your bond, and you have credit for it. If no one bid higher, 
 the property had to go." 
 
 "Yes, sir; I very well understand how property goes, in 
 the absence of the debtor, at forced sales. But what is the 
 nature of the proposition you intend to make ? " 
 
 " Mr. Daggett understands you possess some very valua- 
 ble pearls, that are supposed to be worth one thousand dol- 
 lars, with a good deal of plate, etc., etc. Now, he proposes 
 that you assign to the estate he represents all your personals 
 at an appraisal, when he will credit you with the amount, 
 and suspend proceedings for the balance. In a word, give 
 you time." 
 
 " And what idea has Mr. Daggett of the sum I should 
 thus receive? " 
 
 " He is disposed to be liberal, and thinks you might get 
 credit for about four thousand dollars." 
 
 "My personal property, including the pearls of which 
 you speak, quite a thousand dollars' worth of plate, even at 
 the price of old silver, the sloop, the stock, horses, carriages, 
 farming utensils, and without counting the slaves, all of 
 whom I intend to set free, if the law will allow it, must 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4O9 
 
 nearly or quite double that sum, sir. Unless Mr. Dagget is 
 disposed to raise his views of the value of my effects, I 
 should prefer to remain in custody, and see what I can do 
 by private sale. As he will receive every cent of the secur- 
 ities received from my sister's estate, quite $22,000, and 
 now possesses more than $5,000 from Claw bonny, the bal- 
 ance I shall really owe cannot exceed $13,000." 
 
 " Were you to confess judgment, sir, and leave the prop- 
 erty under execution " 
 
 " I'll do nothing of the sort, Mr. Meekly — on that subject 
 my mind is made up. One forced sale is quite enough for 
 a novice." 
 
 "We shall soon reach the jail, sir — perhaps its sight 
 may " 
 
 " It will not, sir. Whenever Mr. Daggett shall be dis- 
 posed to receive my property at a just valuation, I may be 
 ready to arrange the matter with him, for I have no disposi- 
 tion to deny the debt, or to avoid its payment; but, as he 
 has adopted his own mode of proceeding, I am ready to 
 abide by it. Good morning, Mr. Meekly; I see no use in 
 your accompanying me any further." 
 
 I was thus decided, because I saw I had to deal with an 
 extortioner. A rogue himself, Mr. Daggett was afraid I 
 might get rid of my personal property before he could issue 
 an execution by the regular mode; and he anticipated fright- 
 ening or constraining me into an arrangement. It would be 
 my business to disappoint him; and I assumed an air of 
 confidence that soon shook off my companion. A few min- 
 utes later, the key of the old stone debtor's jail was turned 
 upon me. I had a little money, and reluctant to be shut up 
 with the company I found in the building, I succeeded in 
 procuring a small, ill-furnished room, to myself. 
 
 These preliminaries were hardly settled, when Neb was 
 admitted with the bag. The poor fellow had been in tears; 
 for he not only felt for me, but he felt for the disgrace and 
 misfortune which had* alighted on the whole Clawbonny 
 
4IO MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Stock. He had yet to learn that the place itself was gone, 
 and I shrank from telling him the fact; for, to his simple 
 mind, it would be like forcing body and soul asunder. All 
 the negroes considered themselves as a part of Clawbonny, 
 and a separation must have appeared in their eyes like some 
 natural convulsion. Neb brought me a letter. It was sealed 
 with wax, and bore the impression of the Hardinge arms. 
 There was also an envelope, and the address had been writ- 
 ten by Rupert. In short, everything about this letter de- 
 noted ease, fashion, fastidiousness, and the observance of 
 forms. I lost no time in reading the contents, which I copy, 
 verbatim. 
 
 " Broadway^ Wednesday morning. 
 "Dear Wallingford: 
 
 " It has just occurred to me that the enclosed may be of 
 service to you; and I reproach myself for not having be- 
 thought me of your probable necessities when I saw you. 
 I regret it is not in my power to ask you to dine with me, 
 enjamille^ to-day; but Mrs. Hardinge has company, and we 
 are engaged out every other day this week. I shall fall in 
 with you again, some day, however, when I hope to be less 
 engaged. Lucy has just heard of your safety and arrival, 
 and has gone to write a note to my father, who will be glad 
 to learn that you are still in the land of the living. The 
 general, who lives with us, desires to be mentioned, and 
 hopes when he returns to England, it may be as your pas- 
 senger. Adieu, dear Wallingford; I shall never forget our 
 boyish pranks, which, I dare say, sometimes cause you to 
 smile. Yours, etc., 
 
 "Rupert Hardinge." 
 
 This letter contained a bank-note for twenty dollars! 
 Yes, the man to whom I had given twenty thousand dollars, 
 sent me, in my distress, this generous donation, to relieve 
 my wants. I need hardly say I sent the bank-note back to 
 him by the hands of Neb, on the instant, with a cold note 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4II 
 
 of acknowledgment. I had no occasion for his charity, at 
 least. 
 
 I passed a most uncomfortable hour alone, after Neb was 
 gone. Then a turnkey came to inform me that a gentleman 
 and lady — a clergyman, he believed — were in the private 
 parlor, and wished to see me. It was doubtless Mr. Har- 
 dinge — could \i\^ companion be Lucy? I was too anxious, 
 too eager, to lose any time, and, rushing toward the room, 
 was at once admitted. There they were — Lucy and her 
 father. Neb had seen Chloe, in calling at Rupert's door — 
 had heard much and told much. Mr. Hardinge was on the 
 point of going in quest of me; but, learning where I was, 
 he had barely given his daughter time to put on a hat and 
 shawl, and conducting her across the Park, brought her 
 himself to visit me in prison. I saw, at a glance, that Lucy 
 was dreadfully agitated; that she was pale, though still 
 handsomer than ever; and that she was Lucy herself, in 
 character, as in person. 
 
 "Miles, my dear, dear boy! " cried the good old divine, 
 folding me in his arms, "for this mercy, may God alone 
 receive the praise! Everybody gave you up, but Lucy and 
 myself, and we could not, would not believe you, too, were 
 lost to us forever ! '^ 
 
 As my former guardian still clasped me to his bosom, as 
 if I still remained a child, I could perceive that dear Lucy 
 was weeping as if ready to break her heart. Then she 
 looked up, and tried to smile ; though I could see the effort 
 was made solely on my account. I caught her extended 
 hand, and kissed it over and over again. The dear, dear 
 girl trembled in every fibre of her body. 
 
 " All my misfortunes are forgotten," I cried, " in finding 
 you thus, in finding you unchanged, in finding you still 
 Lucy Hardinge ! " 
 
 I scarce knew what I was uttering, though I saw Lucy's 
 face was covered with blushes, and that a smile, which I 
 found of inexplicable sigpification, now rose readily enough 
 
412 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 to her beautiful mouth. On the whole, I think there must 
 have been some eight or ten minutes, during which neither 
 of the three knew particularly well what was said or done. 
 Lucy was both smiles and tears; though keen anxiety to 
 know what had occurred, and how I came to be in jail, was 
 strongly expressed in her countenance, as well as in some 
 of her words. As for myself, I was beside myself, and 
 acted like a fool. 
 
 After a time, we were all seated, when I narrated the 
 manner in which I had lost my ship, and the reason why 
 Clawbonny had been sold, and why I supposed I was thus 
 arrested. 
 
 "I am glad my cousin, John Wallingford, had no con- 
 cern with these transactions; though I deeply regret the 
 reason why my bond has passed into other hands. It would 
 have rendered my misfortunes still harder to be borne, could 
 I suppose that a kinsman had laid so deep a plot to ruin 
 me, under the semblance of kindness. His death, however, 
 sets that point at rest." 
 
 "I do not like his talking of making you his heir, and 
 neglecting to do it," rejoined Mr. Hardinge. " Men should 
 never promise, and forget to redeem their words. It has a 
 suspicious look." 
 
 Lucy had not spoken the whole time I was relating my 
 story. Her serene eye beamed on me in a way to betray the 
 interest she felt; but not a syllable escaped her until her 
 father had made the observation just given. 
 
 "It is of no moment, now," she then said, "what may 
 have been the motive of Mr. John Wallingford. With 
 Miles, I thought him a rough, but an honest man ; but hon- 
 est men may be pardoned for not foreseeing their own sud- 
 den deaths. The question, now, my dear father, is, how 
 Miles can be got out of this wretched place, in the shortest 
 possible time." 
 
 "Ay, Miles, my dear boy; Heaven forbid you should 
 sleep in such a spot. How shall we go to work? " 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 413 
 
 "I am afraid, sir, I shall sleep many nights here. The 
 debt I really owe is about thirteen thousand dollars; and 
 the writ, I believe, is issued for the entire penalty of the 
 bond. As the motive for arresting me is, probably, to drive 
 me into a compromise, by confessing judgment, and giving 
 up my personal property to be sacrificed, as Clawbonny has 
 been, it is not probable that bail for a less amount than the 
 law allows the plaintiff to claim, will be received. I do 
 not know the man who will become surety for me in that 
 amount." 
 
 " Well, I know two — Rupert and myself." 
 
 The idea of receiving such a favor from Rupert was par- 
 ticularly unpleasant to me; and I saw by the expression of 
 Lucy's face that she entered into my feelings. 
 
 "I am afraid, sir," I said, after thanking Mr. Hardinge 
 by a warm pressure of the hand, "that you are not rich 
 enough. The deputy sheriff has told me he has instructions 
 to be rigid about the bail; and I apprehend neither you, 
 nor Rupert, can swear he is worth fifty thousand dollars." 
 
 "Bless me! bless me! Is that really necessary. Miles? " 
 
 " If required, I believe the law insists on security to the 
 amount of the judgment claimed. Rupert lives largely, I 
 see, and yet I doubt if he would be willing to swear to that." 
 
 Mr. Hardinge's face became very sorrowful; and he 
 paused a moment before answering. 
 
 " I am not in Rupert's secrets, neither is Lucy," he then 
 said. "I hope all is right; though the thought that he 
 might possibly play, has sometimes crossed my anxious 
 mind. He is married to Miss Merton ; has purchased and 
 furnished a Broadway house, and is living at a large rate. 
 When I spoke to him on the subject, he asked me if I 
 thought * English ladies of condition gave empty hands in 
 marriage.' I don't know how it is, my dear Miles, but I 
 always fancied that the Mertons had nothing but the colo- 
 nel's salary to live on." 
 
 " Major Merton," I afiswered, laying an emphasis on the 
 
414 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 brevet rank the worthy individual actually possessed, " Major 
 Merton has told me as much as this, himself." 
 
 Mr. Hardinge actually groaned, and I saw that Lucy 
 turned pale as death. The former had no knowledge of the 
 true character of his son ; but he had all the apprehensions 
 that a father would naturally feel under such circumstances. 
 I saw the necessity — nay, the humanity, of relieving both. 
 
 " You know me too well, my dear guardian — excellent 
 Lucy — to think that I would deliberately deceive either of 
 you. What I now tell you, is to prevent Rupert from being 
 too harshly judged. I know whence Rupert derived a large 
 sum of money, previously to my sailing. It was legally ob- 
 tained, and is, or was, rightfully his. I do not say it was 
 large enough long to maintain him in the style in which he 
 lives; but it can so maintain him a few years. You need 
 fear neither cards, nor positive dishonesty. Rupert has no 
 disposition for either; he dislikes the first, and is too pru- 
 dent for the last." 
 
 "God be thanked for this!" the divine exclaimed de- 
 voutly. " I had really frightened myself with my own folly. 
 So, so, Master Rupert, you have been making money and 
 holding your peace! Well, I like his modesty; Rupert is 
 clever, Miles, and I trust will one day take an honorable 
 station at the bar. His marriage has been a little too early 
 for one of his means, perhaps ; but I feel encouraged now 
 that I find he can make money honorably, and legally, and 
 justly." 
 
 I had said nothing of the honorable, or the just; but what 
 weakness will not parental affection encourage? As for 
 Lucy, her countenance told me she suspected the truth. 
 Never before had I seen on those usually placid, and always 
 lovely features, an expression of so much humiliation. For 
 a single instant, it almost amounted to anguish. Recover- 
 ing her self-possession, however, she was the first to turn 
 the discourse to its proper channel. 
 
 " All this time we are forgetting Miles," she said. " It 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 415 
 
 would seem, father, that he thinks neither you, nor Rupert, 
 rich enough to be his bail — can I be of any use in this 
 way?" 
 
 Lucy spoke firmly, and in the manner of one who was be- 
 ginning to be accustomed to consider herself of some account 
 in the way of money; but a bright flush suffused her face, 
 as she thus seemed to make herself of more moment than 
 was her wont — to pass out of her sex, as it might be. 
 
 " A thousand thanks, dearest Lucy, for the offer," I said, 
 eagerly, " but could you become my bail, I certainly would 
 not permit it. It is enough that you come to visit me here, 
 without further connecting your name with my debts. A 
 minor, however, cannot Lecome security. Mr. Daggett will 
 keep me here a few weeks; when he finds I am employing 
 agents to sell my effects, I fancy he is sufficiently a rogue 
 himself to apprehend the money will get beyond the reach 
 of his execution, and he will offer to compromise. Once at 
 large, I can always go to sea ; if not as master, at least as a 
 mate." 
 
 " Had we been as proud as yourself. Miles, Clawbonny 
 would have been less dear to us." 
 
 " It is not pride, but propriety, Lucy, to prevent you from 
 doing a thing for which there is no necessity, and which 
 might subject you to impertinent observations. No, I'll set 
 about disposing of my personal property at once; that will 
 soon bring Mr. Daggett to some sense of decency." 
 
 " If a minor cannot be received as bail, there is no more 
 to be said," Lucy answered ; " else would I prove to you, 
 Miles, that I can be as obstinate as you are yourself. At 
 all events, I can be a purchaser of jewels, if wanting a few 
 months of my majority ; fortunately, I have nearly a year's 
 income on hand. You see. Miles" — Lucy again blushed 
 brightly, though she smiled — "what an accountant I am 
 getting to be — but I can commence at once by purchasing 
 your pearls. They are already in my possession for safe 
 keeping, and many is tfee covetous glance they have re- 
 
4l6 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ceived from me. Those precious pearls! I think you 
 valued them at three thousand dollars, Miles," Lucy contin- 
 ued, " and my father will at once pay you that sum on my 
 behalf. Then send for the lawyer of your persecutor, for I 
 can call him nothing else, and offer to pay that much on his 
 demand provided he will accept my father as bail. If he 
 be the sort of being you fancy him, and so his acts I think 
 prove him to be, he will be glad to accept the offer." 
 
 I was delighted at the readiness of resources this proved 
 in Lucy, nor was the project in the least unlikely to suc- 
 ceed. Could I get four or five thousand dollars together, I 
 had no doubt Daggett would accept Mr. Hardinge for bail, 
 as it was only as surety for my appearance in court. That 
 was then required, and no one could really think I would 
 abscond and leave my olcf guardian in the lurch. Still, I 
 could not think of thus robbing Lucy. Left to her own sense 
 of propriety, I well knew she would never dream of invest- 
 ing so large a sum as the pearls were really worth, in orna- 
 ments for her person, and the pearls were worth but little 
 more than half the sum she had named. 
 
 "This will not do," I answered, expressing my gratitude 
 with my eyes, " and no more need be said about it. I can- 
 not rob you, dearest Lucy, because you are so ready to sub- 
 mit to be robbed. Leave me here a few days, and Mr. 
 Meekly will come to volunteer a plan of setting me free." 
 
 "I have it! " exclaimed Mr. Hardinge, jumping up and 
 seizing his hat. "Lucy, I'll be back in fifteen minutes; 
 then we'll bear Miles off in triumph, to your own house. 
 Yes, yes, the scheme cannot fail, with a lawyer of any re- 
 spectability." 
 
 " May I know what it is, dear papa? " Lucy asked, glanc- 
 ing expressively toward me. 
 
 " Why it's just this. I'll go and find the bishop, who'll 
 do anything to oblige me, and he and I'll go, in company, 
 to this Mr. Meekly's office, and pledge our words as divines, 
 that Miles shall appear in court, as the under-sheriff told 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 417 
 
 me would be required, when all will be settled to our heart's 
 content. On my way to the bishop's, I'll just step in at Rich- 
 ard Harrison's office, and take his opinion in the matter." 
 
 " Well, sir, the notion of seeing Richard Harrison is a 
 good one. He may suggest something in the way of prac- 
 tice that will be useful to us. If you could step across the 
 way and get him to pay me a short visit, I should be infi- 
 nitely obliged to you. I was about to take his advice on 
 the subject of my insurance when arrested, and I wish that 
 point disposed of." 
 
 Mr. Hardinge listened attentively, and then he left the 
 room, telling Lucy he would be back in a few minutes. It 
 might have been an awkward situation for most young ladies, 
 thus to be left alone with a prisoner in jail ; but Lucy was 
 so much accustomed to the intimacy that bound us together, 
 I do not think its peculiarities struck her at the moment. 
 When her father went out of the room, she was in deep 
 thought, nor did she appear to rouse herself from it, until 
 he had been gone some little time. Lucy was seated, but I 
 had risen to see Mr. Hardinge to the door of the room, and 
 was walking slowly back and forth. The dear girl arose, 
 came to me, took one of my hands in both her own, and 
 looked anxiously into my face for some little time ere she 
 spoke. 
 
 "Miles," she said, "I will say no more of the pearls, no 
 more of my own money, and will prevent all allusion to 
 Rupert's appearing in your behalf, if you will accept the 
 bail I can provide for you. I know a gentleman who will 
 accept my word as his surety, who is rich enough to be re- 
 ceived, and who is under a deep obligation to you, for I 
 have often heard him say as much. You may not know how 
 ready he will be to oblige you, but I do, and I now ask you 
 to give me your word you will not refuse his assistance, even 
 though he should be an utter stranger to you." 
 
 " How is it possible, Lucy, that you can have any knowl- 
 edge of such a person ? " ^ 
 27 
 
41 8 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " O ! you cannot imagine what a woman of business I am 
 becoming. You would not refuse me for your bail, were I 
 a man, and of age. Miles? " 
 
 " Certainly not — feeling as I do toward you, Lucy, I would 
 sooner receive such a favor from you, than from any human 
 being. But you are not a man, thank God, nor of age." 
 
 "Then promise me the small favor of accepting this ser- 
 vice from the person I shall send to you. It would break 
 all our hearts to think you were remaining here in jail, 
 while we are living in luxury. I will not relinquish your 
 hand, till you give me a promise." 
 
 "That look is sufficient, Lucy; I promise all you can 
 ask." 
 
 So intense had the feelings of the dear girl become, that 
 she burst into tears, the moment her mind was relieved, and 
 covered her face with both hands. It was but a passing 
 burst of feeling, and a radiant smile soon chased every trace 
 of sorrow from her sweet, sweet countenance. 
 
 " Now, Miles, I am certain we shall soon have you out of 
 this horrid place," she cried ; " and before the execution 
 they tell us of, can issue, as they call it, we shall have time 
 to make some proper arrangement for you. I shall be of 
 age, by that time ; and I can at least become your creditor 
 instead of that odious Mr. Daggett. You would not hesi- 
 tate to owe me money. Miles, in preference to him ? " 
 
 " Dearest Lucy, there is nothing I would not be willing to 
 owe to you, and that in preference to any other living crea- 
 ture, not even excepting your revered and beloved father." 
 
 Lucy looked deeply gratified ; and I saw another of those 
 inexplicable smiles lurking around her lovely mouth, which 
 almost tempted me to demand an explanation of its mean- 
 ing. Ere there was time for this, however, her countenance 
 became very, very sad, and she turned her tearful eyes 
 toward me. 
 
 "Miles, I fear I understood your allusion, when you 
 spoke of Rupert's money," she said. "I feared poor, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 419 
 
 sainted Grace would do this ; and I knew you would strip 
 yourself of every dollar to comply with her wishes. I won- 
 der the idea never occurred to me before ; but it is so hard 
 to think ill of a brother! I ask no questions, for I see you 
 are determined not to answer them — perhaps have given a 
 pledge to your sister to that effect; but we cannot live under 
 this disgrace; and the day I am twenty-one, this grievous, 
 grievous wrong must be repaired. I know that Grace's for- 
 tune had accumulated to more than twenty thousand dollars; 
 and that is a sum sufficient to pay all you owe, and to leave 
 you enough to begin the world anew." 
 
 " Even were what you fancy true, do you think I would 
 consent to rob you, to pay Rupert's debts? " 
 
 " Talk not of robbery. I could not exist under the degra- 
 dation of thinking any of us had your money, while debt 
 and imprisonment thus hung over you. There is but one 
 thing that can possibly prevent my paying you back Grace's 
 fortune, the day I am of age, as you will see. Miles." 
 
 Again that inexplicable smile passed over Lucy's face, 
 and I was resolved to ask its meaning, when the approach- 
 ing footstep of Mr. Hardinge prevented it. 
 
 " Mr. Harrison is not in," cried the divine, as he entered 
 the room; "but I left a note for him, telling him that his 
 old acquaintance, Captain Wallingford, had pressing need 
 of his services. He has gone to Greenwich, to his country 
 place, but will be back in the course of the day, and I have 
 desired he will come to Wall street, the instant he can. I 
 would not blazon your misfortunes. Miles; but the moment 
 he arrives, you shall hear from him. He is an old school- 
 fellow of mine, and will be prompt to oblige me. Now, 
 Miss Lucy, I am about to release you from prison. I saw a 
 certain Mr. Drewett walking in the direction of Wall street, 
 and had the charity to tell him you would be at home in ten 
 minutes." 
 
 Lucy arose with an alacrity I could hardly forgive. The 
 color deepened on her face, aifd I thought she even hurried 
 
420 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 her father away, in a manner that was scarcely sufficiently 
 reserved. Ere they left the room, however, the dear girl 
 took an opportunity to say, in a low voice, "Remember, 
 Miles, I hold you strictly to your promise; in one hour you 
 shall be free." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 She half enclosed me in her arms, 
 She pressed me with a meek embrace ; 
 
 And bending back her head, looked up 
 And gazed upon my face. 
 
 COLBRIDGK. 
 
 I SAW no one for the next two hours. A window of the 
 parlor, where I was permitted to remain, overlooked the 
 soi-disant park — or rather Manhattan-6\^2Xi\. — and it was not 
 long before I caught a glimpse of my mate and Neb, lying 
 off and on, or blockading the jail, lest I should be secretly 
 carried to parts unknown, or some other great evil should 
 approach me from without. What these two honest and 
 affectionate fellows meant by thus maintaining their post I 
 did not know, it is true ; but such was my conjecture. At 
 length Neb disappeared, and was absent an hour. When he 
 returned, he had a coil of rope over his shoulder, when the 
 two took a station at a safe distance from my prison and 
 began to measure off fathoms, to cut, knot, and splice. I 
 was amused with their diligence, which made no abatement 
 until it was interrupted by myself. Of the manner in which 
 that was effected I shall have occasion to speak presently. 
 
 About two hours after I was left by Lucy and her father, 
 a keeper came to announce another visitor. I was expect- 
 ing my own attorney or Mr. Harrison; but the reader will 
 judge of my surprise when Andrew Drewett entered the room. 
 He was accompanied by the jailer, who held a letter in his 
 hand, and who astounded me by saying: 
 
 "Captain Wallingford, I have instructions here to open 
 the door for you — bail has been entered." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 421 
 
 The jailer disappeared. 
 
 "And this I owe to you, Mr. Drewett! " 
 
 " I wish I could say as much, with all my heart, my dear 
 sir," Andrew replied, taking my hand, and giving it a warm, 
 cordial shake; "but it would not be strictly true. After 
 saving my life, I should not have suffered you to lie in jail 
 for want of so small a favor as giving bail for your appear- 
 ance in court, certainly ; but would, and will, gladly be your 
 special bail at the proper time. Let the credit fall, how- 
 ever, only where it is due. Miss Hardinge asked me to 
 obtain your release, and her wishes are second only to my 
 own gratitude." 
 
 This was said in a frank, manly manner; and I wondered 
 I had never viewed Andrew Drewett in a light so favorable 
 before. He had improved in person, bore himself like a 
 gentleman I now thought, and was every way a pleasing, 
 well-mannered, well-dressed, and intelligent-looking young 
 man. I could do all justice to him but pardon him Lucy's 
 preference. 
 
 "Lucy can never forget our childish intimacy," I said, a 
 little confused. " She left me, declaring an intention to do 
 something of the sort; though I confess I was not exactly 
 prepared for this. You are a man to be envied, Mr. 
 Drewett, if any man on earth is ! " 
 
 Andrew looked embarrassed. He glanced at me, colored, 
 turned his look out at the window, then, by a vast effort, 
 seemed to regain his self-command. 
 
 "I believe I understand you, Wallingford," he said. 
 "You mean, in being engaged to Lucy Hardinge? " 
 
 " I can mean nothing else — all I hear — all I have seen — 
 this last act, in particular, tells me as much." 
 
 " All have then told you wrong. I am not so fortunate 
 as to possess the affections of Miss Hardinge; and no man 
 will gain her hand who does not first obtain her heart; ay, 
 and her whole heart, too." ^ 
 
 I was astounded ! What! Lucy not engaged to Drewett; 
 
422 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 not loving him, by his own admission; not likely to love 
 him ! I believe Andrew had no difficulty in comprehending 
 my feelings in part, for he seemed disposed to continue the 
 subject; and what was infinitely to his credit, to continue 
 it in a way that should leave no unpleasant uncertainty 
 hanging about the real position of the dear girl. 
 
 " It is only quite lately," he said, " that I have seen the 
 great injustice that I and my family have unconsciously 
 committed toward Miss Hardinge. As you are an old — a 
 very old friend of hers, I will be explicit with you, and en- 
 deavor, in some small degree, to excuse myself; though I 
 feel that it can never be done fully. You tell me that you 
 have heard I was engaged to Miss Hardinge? " 
 
 " Unquestionably ; I think it was the opinion of her own 
 father; though he must have believed the promise condi- 
 tional, as Lucy never would marry without his approbation." 
 
 "Mr. Hardinge has then been strangely misled. It is 
 true, Mr. Wallingford, that I have long admired Miss 
 Hardinge, and that I offered myself years ago. I was re- 
 fused from the first. But Lucy had the frankness to own 
 that she was free to dispose of her hand ; and I persevered 
 contrary to her advice, her wishes, and I may say, her en- 
 treaties. I think she esteems me; and I know she has a 
 strong regard for my mother, who is almost as fond of her 
 as I am myself. This esteem and regard I hoped might 
 ripen into love, and my presumption has brought its own 
 punishment. It is now about six months — I remember it 
 was shortly after we heard of your probable loss — that I had 
 a final conversation with her on the subject, when I became 
 convinced my prospects were hopeless. Since that time I 
 have endeavored to conquer my passion ; for love unrequited, 
 I suppose you know, will not last forever; and I have so 
 far succeeded as to tell you all this without feeling the 
 pain it would once have cost me. Still, I retain the deepest 
 respect for Miss Hardinge, and a single encouraging look 
 would even now recall me. I am of opinion, however, she 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 42$ 
 
 intends never to marry. But, let us quit this place, which 
 has no longer any claim on you." 
 
 I was in a state scarcely to know what I did. It was 
 comparatively little to me to learn I was free myself, after 
 so unexpectedly learning that Lucy was also free. Lucy — 
 whom I had for years supposed to be irrevocably engaged, 
 and whom I had continued to love, even against hope. 
 Andrew Drewett, I fancied, had never loved as I did, or he 
 would not have made the speech he did; or his love for 
 Lucy had not been a part of his existence from boyhood, as 
 mine had certainly been. While all these thoughts were 
 passing through my mind, I gave a few directions, took 
 Drewett's arm, and hurried out of the jail. 
 
 I confess that I respired more freely when I found myself 
 in the open air. My companion took my direction, and I 
 led him to the spot where Marble and Neb were still at 
 work on their rope. Great was their surprise on seeing me 
 at large; and I thought the mate looked a little disap- 
 pointed, though he comprehended the matter at once as soon 
 as he saw Drewett. 
 
 " If you had only waited till night. Miles," Marble said, 
 shaking his head as one menaces, " Neb and I would have 
 shown that bloody jail a seaman's fashion of quitting it. 
 I'm almost sorry the occasion is lost, for it would have done 
 their stomachs good to wake up at two bells and find their 
 cage empty. I've half a mind to ask you to go back, boy ! " 
 
 " But I've no mind to comply with the request; so do me 
 the favor to have my bag carried back to our lodgings, where 
 I intend to swing my hammock again to-night. Mr. Drewett, 
 I must hasten to thank her to whom I owe my freedom. 
 Will you accompany me? " 
 
 Andrew excused himself; and receiving my thanks, once 
 more we parted with a hearty shake of the hands. I then 
 hastened toward Wall street and knocked at Lucy's door 
 (there were knockers to good houses in New York in 1804, 
 a vile nuisance, having 15een since well gotten rid of), scarce 
 
424 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 conscious of the manner in which I had got there. It was 
 near the dinner-hour, and the footman was demurring about 
 admitting a sailor-man, who hardly knew what he said, when 
 a little scream from Chloe, who happened to see me, soon 
 disposed of my claim for an entrance. 
 
 "Masser Mile! — Masser Mile! — I so grad — dat feller, 
 Neb, say you come home. Oh! Masser Mile, now I know 
 dat de rascal at Clawbonny get druv' off! " 
 
 This speech, confident as it was, a little cooled my ardor 
 by reminding me I was a beggar, in the figurative meaning 
 of the word. Chloe led the way, however, and I was soon 
 in the drawing-room, and in the presence of the youthful 
 mistress of the house. How gloriously beautiful did Lucy 
 then appear! She had dressed for dinner, as usual, but it 
 was in the simplest and neatest manner. Her face was 
 radiant with the pleasure of seeing me where I was, and ex- 
 citement had deepened the color on her cheeks, which were 
 never pale, except with emotions. As for her eyes, I can 
 only describe t^em by the homely phrase that they " danced 
 for joy." 
 
 "Now, Miles," she said, holding out both hands to meet 
 me, "/>^/j- is redeeming your pledge, and behaving as you 
 should. Andrew Drewett was delighted with an opportunity 
 of doing something for the man who saved his life, and my 
 only fear was of your obstinacy." 
 
 " After all I have heard from Andrew Drewett, beloved 
 Lucy, you never need fear anything from my obstinacy here- 
 after. He not only has released my body from prison, but 
 he has released my spirits from the weight of a mountain by 
 honestly confessing you do not love him." 
 
 The play of roseate light on an autumnal sky at evening 
 is not more beautiful than the changing tints that passed 
 over Lucy's beautiful face. She did not speak at first; but 
 so intent, so inquiring was her look, while at the same time 
 it was so timid and modest, that I scarce needed the ques- 
 tion that she finally succeeded in asking. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 425 
 
 "What is it you wish to say, Miles?" at length came 
 from her in faltering tones. 
 
 "To ask to be permitted to keep these hands forever. 
 Not one, Lucy; one will not satisfy a love like mine, a love 
 that has got to be interwoven with my being, from having 
 formed a part of my very existence from boyhood ; yes, I 
 ask for bothr 
 
 " You have them both, dear, deaf Miles, and keep them 
 as long as you please." 
 
 Even while this was in the course of utterance, the hands 
 were snatched from me to be applied to their owner's face, 
 and the dear girl burst into a flood of tears. I folded her 
 in my arms, seated myself at her side on a sofa, and am not 
 ashamed to say that we wept together. I shall not reveal 
 all that passed during the next quarter of an hour, nor am I 
 quite certain that I could, were I to make the attempt, but I 
 well recollect my arm was around Lucy's slender waist at 
 the end of that brief period. What was said was not very 
 coherent, nor do I know that anybody would care to hear, or 
 read it. 
 
 "Why have you so long delayed to tell me this, Miles? " 
 Lucy at length inquired, a little reproachfully. "You who 
 have had so many opportunities, and might have known how 
 it would have been received ! How much misery and suffer- 
 ing it would have saved us both ! " 
 
 " For that which it has caused you, dearest, I shall never 
 forgive myself; but as for that / have endured, it is only 
 too well merited. But I thought you loved Drewett; every- 
 body said you were to marry him ; even your own father be- 
 lieved and told me as much." 
 
 " Poor, dear papa ! He little knew my heart. One thing, 
 however, he did that would have prevented my ever marry- 
 ing any one. Miles, so long as you lived." 
 
 " Heaven forever bless him for that, as well as for all his 
 other good deeds ! What was it, Lucy ? " 
 
 " When we heard of the supposed loss of your ship, he 
 
426 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 believed it, but I did not. Why I did not believe what all 
 around me thought was true is more than I can explain, 
 unless Providence humanely sustained me by hope. But 
 when my father thought you dead, in conversing of all 
 your good qualities, Miles— and he loved you almost as well 
 as his daughter " 
 
 "God bless him, dear old gentleman! but what did he 
 tell you, Lucy ? " 
 
 "You will never learn if you thus interrupt me, Miles," 
 Lucy answered, smiling saucily in my face, though she per- 
 mitted me still to hold both her hands, as if I had taken 
 possession of them literally with an intent to keep them, 
 blushing at the same time as much with happiness, I 
 thought, as with the innate modesty of her nature. " Have 
 a little patience and I will tell you. When my father 
 thought you dead, he told me the manner in which you had 
 confessed to him the preference you felt for me; and do 
 you, can you think, after I was thus put in possession of 
 such a secret, I could listen to Andrew Drewett, or to any 
 one else? " 
 
 I shall not reveal what followed this speech; but I may 
 say that, in the course of the next ten minutes, Lucy mildly 
 reproached me again for having so long delayed my declar- 
 ation. 
 
 "I know you so well, Miles," she continued, smiling — as 
 for blushing, that she did nearly the whole of the remainder 
 of the day — " I know you so well. Miles, that I am afraid I 
 should have made the declaration myself had you not found 
 your tongue. Silly fellow! how could you suppose I would 
 ever love any but you? — see here! " 
 
 She drew the locket I had given her from her dress, and 
 placed it in my hands, still warm from lying near her heart! 
 I had no choice but to kiss Lucy again, or to kiss this 
 locket, and I did both, by way of leaving no further grounds 
 for self-reproach. I say, kiss her again, for to own the 
 truth, I had already done so many times in that interview. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 42/ 
 
 At length, Chloe put her head in at the door, having 
 taken the precaution first to give a gentle tap, to inquire if 
 dinner should be served. Lucy dined at four, and it was 
 now drawing toward five. 
 
 " Has my father come in? " demanded the young mistress 
 of her attendant. 
 
 " Not yet, Miss Lucy, but he nebber t'ink much of dinner, 
 Miss Lucy, ma'am; and Masser Mile been so long a sailor, 
 dat I t'ink he musf be hungry. I hear dat he had berry 
 hard time dis v'y'ge, Miss Lucy — too hard for old masser 
 and missus' son ! " 
 
 " Ay, you have seen Neb, if the truth were told, Miss Chloe," 
 I cried, "and he has been charming your ear with Othello 
 tales of his risks and hardships to make you love him." 
 
 I cannot say that Chloe actually blushed, or, if she did, 
 the spectators were none the wiser for the weakness. But 
 dark as was the skin of this honest-hearted girl, she had 
 most affectionate feelings, and even her features could be- 
 tray the emotions she entertained. 
 
 " De feller ! " she exclaimed, " What Miss Lucy please 
 order? Shall 'e cook dish up? " 
 
 "We will have dinner,'^ Lucy answered, with a smile, 
 Chloe's eyes dancing with a sort of wild delight. " Tell 
 John to serve it. Mr. Hardinge will be home soon in all 
 probability. We shall be only us three at table." 
 
 The mentioning of the table caused me to cast an eye at 
 my dress, and the sight of my mate's attire, neat, and in truth, 
 becoming as it was, to one who had no reason to be ashamed 
 of his figure, caused me to recollect my poverty, and to feel 
 one twinge at the distance that the world might fancy its 
 own opinions placed between us. As for birth, my own 
 family was too respectable, and my education had been too 
 good, to leave me now any very keen regrets on such a subject 
 in a state of society like ours, but there was truly a wide chasm 
 between the heiress of Mrs. Bradfort and a penniless mate 
 of a ship. Lucy understood me, and slipping her arm 
 
428 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 through mine, she walked into the library, saying archly, as 
 she drew me gently along : 
 
 " It is a very easy thing, Miles, to get skirts made to your 
 round-about." 
 
 " No doubt, Lucy ; but with whose money ? I have been 
 in such a tumult of happiness as to have forgotten that I am 
 a beggar; that I am not a suitable match for you! Had I 
 only Clawbonny I should feel less humiliated. With Claw- 
 bonny I could feel myself entitled to some portion of the 
 world's consideration." 
 
 We were in the library by this time. Lucy looked at me 
 a moment intently, and I could see she was pained at my 
 allusion. Taking a little key from a cabinet where she 
 kept it, she opened a small drawer and showed me the iden- 
 tical gold pieces that had once been in my possession, and 
 which I had returned to her after my first voyage to sea. I 
 perceived that the pearls she had obtained under Grace's 
 bequest, as well as those which were my own property, if I 
 could be said to own anything, were kept in the same place. 
 Holding the gold in the palm of a little hand that was as 
 soft as velvet and as white as ivory, she said : 
 
 "You once took all I had, Miles, and this without pre- 
 tending to more than a brother's love, why should you hesi- 
 tate to do it again, now you say you wish to become my 
 husband? " 
 
 "Precious creature! I believe you will cure me of even 
 my silly pride." Then taking up the pearls, I threw them 
 on her neck, where they hung in a long chain, rivalling the 
 skin with which they came in contact. " There, I have said 
 these pearls should be an offering to my wife, and I now 
 make it ; though I scarce know how they are to be kept from 
 the grasp of Daggett." 
 
 Lucy kissed the pearls — I knew she did not do it on ac- 
 count of any love for them — and tears came into her eyes. 
 I believe she had long waited to receive this gift, in the 
 precise character in which it was now receievd. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 429 
 
 " Thank you, dear Miles," she said. " You see how freely 
 I accept your gifts, and why should you hesitate to receive 
 mine ? As for this Mr. Daggett, it will be easy enough to 
 get rid of his claim. I shall be of age before he can bring 
 his cause to trial, as I learn, then nothing will be easier 
 than for Miles Wallingford to pay all his debts, for by 
 that time all that is now mine will be yours. No, no, 
 this Mr. Daggett shall not easily rob me of this precious 
 gift." 
 
 " Rupert " — I said, by way of getting her answer. 
 
 "Rupert will not influence my conduct any further than I 
 shall insist on returning every dollar he has received from 
 you in the name of our sainted Grace. But I hear my 
 father's voice, and speaking to some other person. I had 
 hoped we should dine alone ! " 
 
 The door of the library opened, and Mr. Hardinge en- 
 tered, followed by a grave-looking, elderly man, of respec- 
 table mien, and a manner that denoted one accustomed to 
 deal with matters of weight. I knew this person at once to 
 be Richard Harrison, then one of the most distinguished 
 lawyers of America, and the gentleman to whom I had been 
 carried by John Wallingford, when the latter pressed me to 
 make my will. Mr. Harrison shook me cordially by the 
 hand, after saluting Lucy, whom he knew intimately. I 
 saw at once that something unusual was working in his 
 mind. This highly respectable advocate was a man of 
 method and of great coolness of manner in the management 
 of affairs, and he proceeded to business at once, using very 
 little circumlocution. 
 
 " I have been surprised to hear that my worthy client and 
 friend, Mr. John Wallingford, is dead," he observed. "I 
 do not know how his decease should have escaped my notice 
 in the papers, unless it were owing to a pretty severe illness 
 I suffered myself about the time it occurred. My good 
 friend, Mr. Hardinge, told jt to me, for the first time, only 
 half an hour since." 
 
430 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 " It is true, sir," I answered. " I understand my kinsman 
 died eight months since." 
 
 " And he held your bond for forty thousand dollars at the 
 time he died? " 
 
 " I regret to say he did ; a bond secured by a mortgage 
 on my paternal place, Clawbonny, which has since been 
 sold, by virtue of the power contained in the clauses, under 
 the statute, and sold for a song; less than a fourth of its 
 value." 
 
 " And you have been arrested, at the suit of the adminis- 
 trator, for the balance due on the bond? " 
 
 "I have, sir; and am liberated on general bail only within 
 an hour or two." 
 
 " Well, sir, all these proceedings can be, and must be set 
 aside. I have already given instructions to prepare an ap- 
 plication to the chancellor for an injunction, and, unless 
 your kinsman's administrator is a great dunce, you will be 
 in peaceable possession of Clawbonny again in less than a 
 month — if a moderately sensible man, in less than twenty- 
 four hours." 
 
 " You would not raise hopes that are idle, Mr. Harrison ; 
 yet I do not understand how all this well can be ! " 
 
 "Your kinsman, Mr. John Wallingford, who was a much 
 esteemed client of mine, made a will, which will I drew 
 myself, and which will being left in my possesison for that 
 purpose, I now put in your hands as his sole executor. By 
 that will, you will perceive that he especially forgives you 
 the debt of forty thousand dollars, and releases the claim 
 under the mortgage. But this is not all. After giving some 
 small legacies to a few of his female relatives, he has left 
 you the residuary legatee, and I know enough of his affairs 
 to be certain that you will receive an addition to your estate 
 of more than two hundred thousand dollars. John Walling- 
 ford was a character, but he was a money-making character; 
 had he lived twenty years longer, he would have been one 
 of the richest men in the state. He had laid an excellent 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 43 1 
 
 foundation, but he died too soon to rear the golden 
 structure." 
 
 What a change of circumstances was here! I was not 
 only virtually released from debt, but had Clawbonny re- 
 stored to me, and was master of all I had ever owned, my 
 earnings and the money invested in the Dawn excepted. 
 This last was irretrievably gone, it was true, but in its place 
 I had the ample legacy of John Wallingford as a compensa- 
 tion. This legacy consisted of a large sum in the three per 
 cents., which then sold at about sixty, but were subsequently 
 paid off at par, of good bank and insurance stocks, bonds 
 and mortgages, and a valuable and productive real property 
 in the western part of the state, with several buildings in 
 town. In a word, I was even richer than Lucy, and no 
 longer need consider myself as one living on her generosity. 
 It is not difficult to believe I was made supremely happy 
 by this news, and I looked to Lucy for sympathy. As for 
 the dear girl herself, I do believe she felt anything but 
 pleasure at this new accession of riches; for she had a deep 
 satisfaction in thinking that it was in her power to prove to 
 me how completely I possessed her confidence, by placing 
 all she had in my hands. Nevertheless, she loved Claw- 
 bonny as well as I did myself, and my restoration to the 
 throne of my fathers was a subject of mutual delight. 
 
 Mr. Harrison went on to say that he had ascertained 
 Daggett was in town to conduct the expected arrangement 
 with me, on the subject of my personals, and that he had 
 already sent a message to his attorney, to let the existence 
 of the will be known. He had, consequently, strong hopes 
 of arranging matters in the course of the next twenty-four 
 hours. We were still at table, in effect, when the messenger 
 came to let us know an interview was appointed at the 
 office of this eminent counsel, and we all adjourned to that 
 place, Lucy excepted, as soon as the cloth was removed, for 
 in that day cloths were always removed. At the office we 
 found Mr. Daggett, whfem I now saw for the first time, and 
 
432 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 his legal adviser, already waiting for us. One glance suf- 
 ficed to let us into the secret of the consternation both were 
 in, for the lawyer had committed himself in the course of 
 the proceedings he had had an agency in conducting, almost 
 as much as his client. 
 
 " This is strange news to us, Mr. Harrison," the attorney 
 commenced ; " though your character and reputation, I will 
 confess, make it look serious. Is there no mistake in the 
 matter, sir? " 
 
 " None whatever, Mr. Meekly. If you will have the good- 
 ness to read this will, sir, you will perceive that the facts 
 have been truly laid before your client; and, as to the au- 
 thenticity of the document, I can only say, it was not only 
 drawn up by myself, under precise instructions from Mr. 
 Wallingford, which instructions I still possess, in his own 
 handwriting, but the will was copied by my client, as well 
 as signed and sealed in my presence, as one of the witnesses. 
 So far as relates to the personals, this will would be valid, 
 though not signed by the testator, supposing no other will 
 to exist. But, I flatter myself, you will find everything cor- 
 rect as to forms." 
 
 Mr. Meekly read the will aloud, from beginning to end, 
 and, in returning it to me, he cast a very give-it-up-sort of 
 look at Daggett. The latter inquired, with some anxiety: 
 
 " Is there any schedule of the property accompanying the 
 will?" 
 
 *' There is, sir," returned Mr. Harrison ; " and directions 
 on it where to find the certificates of stock, and all the other 
 evidences of debts — such as bonds and mortgages. Of the 
 last, several are in my own possession. I presume the bond 
 of this Mr. Wallingford was kept by the testator himself, as 
 a sort of a family thing." 
 
 " Well, sir, you will find that none of the stock has been 
 touched ; and I confess this bond, with a few notes given in 
 Genessee, is all that I have been able to find. We have 
 been surprised at discovering the assets to be so small." 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 433 
 
 "So much the better for you, Mr. Daggett. Knowing 
 what I do, I shall only give up the assets I hold to the ex- 
 ecutor and heir. Your letters of administration will be set 
 aside, as a matter of course, even should you presume to 
 oppose us, which I should hardly think advisable." 
 
 "We shall not attempt it, Mr. Harrison," Meekly said, 
 hastily; "and we expect equal liberality from your client." 
 
 So much for having a first-rate lawyer and a man of char- 
 acter on my side. Daggett gave the whole thing up on the 
 spot — reconveying to me Clawbonny before he quitted, 
 though the sale would unquestionably be set aside, and sub- 
 sequently was set aside, by means of an amicable suit. A 
 great deal remained to be done, however ; and I was obliged 
 to tear myself away from Lucy in order to do it. Probate 
 of the will was to be made in the distant county of Genessee 
 — and distant it was from New York in 1804! The journey 
 that could be made to-day in about thirty hours took me ten 
 days; and I spent near a month in going through the neces- 
 sary forms, and in otherwise settling my affairs at the west, 
 as that part of the state was then called. The time, how- 
 ever, was not wasted below. Mr. Hardinge took charge of 
 everything at Clawbonny, and Lucy's welcome letters — three 
 of which reached me weekly — informed me that everything 
 was re-established in the house, on the farm, and at the 
 mill. The Wallingford was set running again, and all the 
 oxen, cows, horses, hogs, etc., etc., were living in their old 
 haunts. The negroes were reinstated, and Clawbonny was 
 itself again! The only changes made were for the better; 
 the occasion having been improved, to paint and new-vamp 
 the house, which Mr. Daggett's parsimony had prevented 
 him from defacing by modern alterations. In a word, 
 " Masser Mile " was alone wanting to make all at the farm 
 happy. Chloe had communicated her engagement to " Miss 
 Lucy," and it was understood Neb and his master were to be 
 married about the same time. As for Moses, he had gone 
 up to Willow Cove on a leave of absence. A letter received 
 28 
 
434 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 from him, which now lies before me, will give a better ac- 
 count of his proceedings and feelings than I can write my- 
 self. It was in the following words, viz. : 
 
 " Willow Cove, September 18/-^, 1804. 
 "Captain Wallingford: 
 
 " Dear sir, and my dear Miles — Here I have been moored, 
 head and starn, these ten days, as comfortable as heart could 
 wish, in the bosom of my family. The old woman was right 
 down glad to see me, and she cried like an alligator when 
 she heard my story. As for Kitty, she cried, and she 
 laughed in the bargain; but that young Bright, whom you 
 may remember we fell in with in our cruise after old Van 
 Tassel, has fairly hauled alongside of my niece, and she 
 does little but laugh from morning to night. It's bloody 
 hard to lose a niece in this way just as a man finds her, but 
 mother says I shall gain a nephew by the trade. 
 
 "Now, for old Van Tassel. The Lord will never suffer 
 rogues to prosper in the long run. Mother found the old 
 rascal's receipt, given to my father for the money, years and 
 years ago, and sending for a Hudson lawyer, they made the 
 miserly cheat off with his hatches and hoist out cargo 
 enough to square the yards. So mother considers the thing 
 as settled at last; but I shall always regard the account as 
 open until I have threshed the gentleman to my heart's con- 
 tent. The old woman got the cash in hard dollars, not 
 understanding paper, and I wasn't in the house ten minutes 
 before the good old soul roused a stocking out of a drawer, 
 and began to count out the pieces to pay me off. So you 
 see. Miles, I've stepped into my estate again, as well as 
 yourself. As for your offer to pay me wages for the whole 
 of last v'y'ge " — this word Marble could only spell as he 
 pronounced it — " it's generous, and that's a good deal in 
 these bloody dishonest times, but I'll not touch a copper. 
 When a ship's lost, the wages are lost with her, and that's 
 law and reason. It would be hard on a marchant to have 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 435 
 
 to pay wages for work done on board a craft that's at the 
 bottom of the ocean ; so no more on that p'int, which we'll 
 consider settled. 
 
 " I am delighted to learn you are to be married as soon as 
 you get back to Clawbonny. Was I in your place, and saw 
 such a nice young woman beckoning me into port, I'd not 
 be long in the offing. Thank you, heartily, for the invita- 
 tion to be one of the bride's-maids, which is an office, my 
 dear Miles, I covet, and shall glory in. I wish you to drop 
 me a line as to the rigging proper for the occasion, for I 
 would wish to be dressed as much like the rest of the 
 bride's-maids as possible; uniformity being always desir- 
 able in such matters. A wedding is a wedding, and should 
 be dealt with as a wedding ; so, waiting for further orders, I 
 remain your friend and old shipmate to command, 
 
 " Moses Van Duzer Marble." 
 
 I do not affirm that the spelling of this letter was quite as 
 accurate as that given in this copy, but the epistle was legi- 
 ble, and evidently gave Marble a great deal of trouble. As 
 for the letters of dear Lucy, I forbear to copy any. They 
 were like herself, however; ingenuous, truthful, affectionate, 
 and feminine. Among other things, she informed me that 
 our union was to take place in St. Michael's; that I was to 
 meet her at the rectory, and that we might proceed to Claw- 
 bonny from the church door. She had invited Rupert and 
 Emily to be present, but the health of the last would pre- 
 vent their accepting the invitation. Major, or General Mer- 
 ton, as he was universally called in New York, had the gout, 
 and could not be there ; and I was asked if it would not be 
 advisable, under all the circumstances, to have the affair as 
 private as possible. My answer conveyed a cheerful compli- 
 ance, and a week after that was dispatched I left the Genes- 
 see country, having successfully completed all my business. 
 No one opposed me, and so far from being regarded as an 
 intruder, the world thought me the proper heir of my cousin. 
 
43^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 I calmed her fears, and she was calm, 
 And told her love with virgin pride ; 
 
 And so I won my Genevieve, 
 My bright and beauteous bride. 
 
 COLKKIDGB. 
 
 By arrangement, I stopped at the Willow Cove to pick up 
 Marble. I found the honest fellow happy as the day was 
 long; but telling fearfully long and wonderful yarns of his 
 adventures to the whole country round. My old mate was 
 substantially a man of truth ; but he did love to astonish 
 " know-nothings." He appears to have succeeded surpris- 
 ingly well, for the Dutchmen of that neighborhood still re- 
 count anecdotes of the achievements and sufferings of Cap- 
 tain Marvel, as they usually call him, though they have long 
 ceased to think the country belongs to the United Provinces. 
 Moses was glad to see me; and after passing a night in 
 the cottage of his mother, we proceeded toward Clawbonny 
 in a conveyance that had been sent to Willow Cove to meet 
 me. It was a carriage of my own, one of my negroes acting 
 as driver. I knew the old team, and will acknowledge that 
 tears forced themselves to my eyes as I thus saw myself, as 
 it might be, reinstated in my own. The same feeling came 
 powerfully over me as we drove to the summit of an eleva- 
 tion in the road that commanded a view of the vale and 
 buildings of Clawbonny. What a moment was that in my 
 existence! I cannot say that I was born to wealth, even as 
 wealth was counted among us sixty years since, but I was 
 born to a competency. Until I lost my ship, I had never 
 known the humiliating sensations of poverty; and the feel- 
 ing that passed over my heart when I first heard that Claw- 
 bonny was sold, has left an impression that will last for life. 
 I looked at the houses, as I passed them in the streets, and 
 remembered that I was houseless. I did not pass a shop 
 in which clothes were exposed without remembering that, 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 437 
 
 were my debts paid, I should literally be without a coat to 
 my back. Now, I had my own once more ; and there stood 
 the home of my ancestors for generations, looking com- 
 fortable and respectable, in the midst of a most inviting 
 scene of rural quiet and loveliness. The very fields seemed 
 to welcome me beneath its roof ! There is no use in at- 
 tempting to conceal what happened; and I will honestly 
 relate it. 
 
 The road made a considerable circuit to descend the hill, 
 while a footpath led down the declivity, by a shorter cut, 
 which was always taken by pedestrians. Making an in- 
 coherent excuse to Moses, and telling him to wait for me at 
 the foot of the hill, I sprang out of the carriage, leaped a 
 fence, and I may add, leaped out of sight, in order to con- 
 ceal my emotion. I was no sooner lost to view than, seat- 
 ing myself on a fragment of rock, I wept like a child. 
 How long I sat there is more than I can say ; but the man- 
 ner in which I was recalled from this paroxysm of feeling 
 will not soon be forgotten. A little hand was laid on my 
 forehead, and a soft voice uttered the word "Miles!" so 
 near me that, at the next instant, I held Lucy in my arms. 
 The dear girl had walked to the hill, as she afterward ad- 
 mitted, in the expectation of seeing me pass on to Claw- 
 bonny; and comprehending my feelings and my behavior, 
 could not deny herself the exquisite gratification of sharing 
 in my emotions. 
 
 " It is a blessed restoration to your rights, dear Miles," 
 Lucy at length said, smiling through her tears. "Your 
 letters have told me that you are rich ; but I would rather 
 you had Clawbonny, and not a cent besides, than, without 
 this place, you had the riches of the wealthiest man in the 
 country. Yours it should have been, at all events, could 
 my means have compassed it." 
 
 " And this, Lucy, without my becoming your husband, do 
 you mean? " 
 
 Lucy blushed brightly ; though I cannot say the sincere, 
 
43^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 ingenuous girl ever looked embarrassed in avowing her 
 preference for me. After a moment's pause, she smiled, 
 and answered my question. 
 
 " I have not doubted of the result, since my father gave 
 me an account of your feelings toward me," she said, " and 
 that, you will remember, was before Mr. Daggett had his 
 sale. Women have more confidence in the affections than 
 men, I fear ; at least, with us they are more engrossing con- 
 cerns than with you, for we live for them altogether, whereas 
 you have the world constantly to occupy your thoughts. I 
 have never supposed Miles Wallingford would become the 
 husband of any but Lucy Hardinge, except on one occasion, 
 and then only for a very short period ; and ever since I have 
 thought on such subjects at all, I have known that Lucy 
 Hardinge would never — could never be the wife of any one 
 but Miles Wallingford." 
 
 " And that one exception, dearest, — that * very short 
 period ' ? Having confessed so much, I am eager to know 
 all." 
 
 Lucy became thoughtful, and she moved the grass at her 
 feet with the end of her parasol ere she replied : 
 
 " The one exception was Emily Merton ; and the short 
 period terminated when I saw you together in your own 
 house. When I first saw Emily Merton, I thought her more 
 worthy of your love than I could possibly be; and I fancied 
 it impossible that you could have lived so long in a ship 
 together without discovering each other's merits. But, 
 when I was placed with you both, under the same roof, I 
 soon ascertained that, while your imagination had been a 
 little led aside, your heart was always true to me." 
 
 "Is this possible, Lucy? Are women really so much 
 more discriminating, so much more accurate in their opin- 
 ions, than we men? While I was ready to hang myself for 
 jealousy of Andrew Drewett, did you really know that my 
 heart was entirely yours? " 
 
 "I was not without misgivings, Miles, and sometimes 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 439 
 
 those that were keenly painful ; but, on the whole, I will 
 not say I felt my power, but that I felt we were dear to each 
 other." 
 
 " Did you never suppose, as your excellent father has done, 
 that we were too much like brother and sister to become 
 lovers, too much accustomed to be dear to each other as 
 children to submit to passion ? For that which I feel for 
 you, Lucy, I do not pretend to dignify with the name of 
 esteem, and respect, and affection — it is a passion, that will 
 form the misery or happiness of my life." 
 
 Lucy smiled archly, and again the end of her parasol 
 played with the grass that grew around the rock on which 
 we were seated. 
 
 " How could I think this for you," she said, " when I had 
 a contrary experience of my own constantly present, Miles? 
 I saw that you thought there was some difference of condi- 
 tion between us (silly fellow!), and I felt persuaded you had 
 only your own diffidence to overcome to tell your own story." 
 
 " And knowing and seeing all this, cruel Lucy, why did 
 you suffer years of cruel, cruel doubt to hang over me? " 
 
 "Was it a woman's part to speak. Miles? I endeavored 
 to act naturally — believe I did act naturally — and I left the 
 rest to God. Blessed be his mercy, I am rewarded ! " 
 
 I folded Lucy to my heart, and, passing a moment of 
 sweet sympathy in the embrace, we both began to talk of 
 other things as if mutually conscious that our feelings were 
 too high-wrought for the place in which we were. I in- 
 quired as to the condition of things at Clawbonny, and 
 was gratified with the report. Everybody expected me. 
 I had no tenantry to come forth to meet me — nor were 
 American tenants much addicted to such practices, even 
 when they were to be found; though the miserable sophistry 
 on the subject of landlord and tenant — one of the most use- 
 ful and humanizing relations of civilized life — did not then 
 exist among us, that I am sorry to find is now getting into 
 vogue. In that day it waf not thought " liberty " to violate 
 
440 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the fair covenants of a lease; and attempts to cheat a landed 
 proprietor out of his rights were called cheating, as they 
 ought to be — and they were called nothing else. 
 
 In that day, a lease in perpetuity was thought a more ad- 
 vantageous bargain for the tenant, than a lease for a year, 
 or a term of years; and men did not begin to reason as if 
 one indulgence gave birth to a right to demand more. In 
 that day, paying rent in chickens, and wood, and work was 
 not fancied to be a remnant of feudality, but it was regarded 
 as a favor conferred on him who had the privilege; and 
 even now, nine countrymen in ten endeavor to pay their 
 debts in everything they can before they resort to the purse. 
 In that day, the audacious sophism of calling land a mon- 
 opoly, in a country that probably possesses more than a 
 hundred acres for every living soul within its limits, was 
 not broached ; and, in that day, knots of men did not set 
 themselves up as special representatives of the whole com- 
 munity, and interpret the laws in their own favor, as if they 
 were the first principles of the entire republic. But my pen 
 is running away with me, and I must return to Lucy. A 
 crisis is at hand; and we are about to see the laws trium- 
 phant, or acts of aggression that will far outdo all that has 
 hitherto rested on the American name, as connected with a 
 want of faith in pecuniary transactions. 
 
 Should I ever continue these adventures, occasions may 
 offer to draw certain pictures of the signs of the times; 
 signs that have an ominous aspect as regards real liberty, 
 by substituting the most fearful of all tyrannies, the spu- 
 rious, in its place. God alone knows for what we are re- 
 served; but one thing is certain — there must be a serious 
 movement backward, or the nation is lost. 
 
 I had no tenantry to come out and meet me; but there 
 were the blacks. It is true, the law was on the point of 
 liberating these slaves, leaving a few of the younger to 
 serve for a term of years, that should requite their owners 
 for the care of their infancies and their educations; but this 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 44 1 
 
 law could not effect an immediate change in the condition 
 of the Clawbonnys. The old ones did not wish to quit me, 
 and never did; while it took years to loosen the tie which 
 bound the younger portion of them to me and mine. At 
 this hour, near twenty of them are living round me in cot- 
 tages of mine; and the service of my kitchen is entirely 
 conducted by them. Lucy prepared me for a reception by 
 these children of Africa, even the outcasts having united 
 with the rest to do honor to their young master. Honor is 
 not the word ; there was too much heart in the affair for so 
 cold a term ; the negro, whatever may be his faults, almost 
 always possessing an affectionate heart. 
 
 At length I remembered Marble, and, taking leave of 
 Lucy, who would not let me accompany her home, I threw 
 myself down the path, and found my mate cogitating in the 
 carriage, at the foot of the hill. 
 
 "Well, Miles, you seem to value this land of yours as a 
 seaman does his ship," cried Moses, before I had time to 
 apologize for having kept him so long waiting. " How- 
 somever, I can enter into the feelin', and a blessed one it 
 is, to get a respondentia bond off of land that belonged to a 
 fellow's grandfather. Next thing to being a bloody hermit, 
 I hold, is to belong to nobody in a crowded world; and I 
 would not part with one kiss from little Kitty, or one 
 wrinkle of my mother's, for all the desert islands in the 
 ocean. Come, sit down now, my lad — why, you look as red 
 as a rosebud, and as if you had been running up and down 
 hill the whole time you've been absent." 
 
 "It is sharp work to come down such a hill as this on a 
 trot. Well, here I am at your side ; what would you wish 
 to know ? " 
 
 "Why, lad, I've been thinkin' since you were away of the 
 duties of a bride's-maid " — to his dying day, Moses always 
 insisted he had acted in this capacity at my wedding — "for 
 the time draws near, and I wouldn't wish to discredit you, 
 on such a festivity. In the first place, how am I to be 
 
442 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 dressed ? I've got the posy you mentioned in your letter, 
 stowed away safe in my trunk. Kitty made it for me last 
 week, and a good-looking posy it was the last time I saw it." 
 
 " Did you think of the breeches? " 
 
 " Ay, ay — I have them, too, and what is more, I've had 
 them bent. Somehow or other, Miles, running under bare 
 poles does not seem to agree with my build. If there's 
 time, I should like to have a couple of bonnets fitted to the 
 articles." 
 
 " Those would be gaiters, Moses, and I never heard of a 
 bride's-maid in breeches and gaiters. No, you'll be obliged 
 to come out like everybody else." 
 
 " Well, I care less for the dress than I do for the behavior. 
 Shall I be obliged to kiss Lucy? " 
 
 " No, not exactly Miss Lucy, but Mrs. Bride — I believe 
 it would not be a lawful marriage without that." 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should lay a straw in the way of 
 your happiness, my dear boy; but you'll make a signal for 
 the proper time to clear ship, then — you know I always 
 carry a quid." 
 
 I promised not to desert him in his need, and Moses be- 
 came materially easier in his mind. I do not wish the 
 reader to suppose my mate fancied he was to act in the 
 character of a woman at my nuptials, but simply that he 
 was to act in the character of a bride's-maid. The difficul- 
 ties which beset him will be best explained by his last re- 
 mark on this occasion, and with which I shall close this dis- 
 course. " Had I been brought up in a decent family," he 
 said, " instead of having been set afloat on a tombstone, 
 matrimony wouldn't have been such unknown seas to me. 
 But you know how it is. Miles, with a fellow that has no re- 
 lations. He may laugh, and sing, and make as much noise 
 as he pleases, and try to make others think he's in good 
 company the whole time; but, after all, he's nothing but a 
 sort of bloody hermit, that's travelling through life, all the 
 same as if he was left with a few pigs on a desert island. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 443 
 
 Make-believe is much made use of in this world, but it 
 won't hold out to the last. Now, of all mortal beings that I 
 ever met with, youVe fallen in with her that has least of it. 
 There's some make-believe about you, Miles, as when you 
 looked so bloody unconcerned all the time you were ready 
 to die of love, as I now I'arn, for the young woman you're 
 about to marry ; and mother has a little of it, dear old soul, 
 when she says she's perfectly satisfied with the son the Lord 
 has given her, for I'm not so blasted virtuous but I might 
 be better; and little Kitty has lots of it when she pretends 
 she would as soon have one kiss from me as two from young 
 Bright; but, as for Lucy Hardinge, I will say that I never 
 saw any more make-believe about her than was becoming in 
 a young woman." 
 
 This speech proved that Moses was a man of observation. 
 Others might have drawn seemingly nicer shades of char- 
 acter, but this sincerity of feeling, truth of conduct, and 
 singleness of purpose, formed the distinguishing traits of 
 Lucy's virtues. I was excessively gratified at finding that 
 Marble rightly appreciated one who was so very, very dear 
 to me, and took care to let him know as much as soon as he 
 had made his speech. 
 
 We were met by the negroes at the distance of half a 
 mile from the house. Neb acted as master of the cere- 
 monies, or, commodore would be the belter word, for he 
 actually carried a bit of swallow-tail bunting that was bor- 
 rowed from the sloop, and there was just as much of ocean 
 in the symbols used as comported with the honors mani- 
 fested to a seaman. Old Cupid carried the Wallingford en- 
 sign, and a sort of harlequinade had been made out of marlin- 
 spikes, serving mallets, sail-maker's palms, and fids. The 
 whole was crowned with a plug of tobacco, though I never 
 used the weed, except in cigars. Neb had seen processions 
 in town, as well as in foreign countries, and he took care 
 that the present should do himself no discredit. It is true, 
 that he spoke to me of it afterward, as a " nigger proces- 
 
444 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 sion," and affected to hold it cheap; but I could see that 
 the fellow was as much pleased with the conceits he had 
 got up for the occasion as he was mortified at the failure of 
 the whole thing. The failure happened in this wise: no 
 sooner did I approach near enough to the elder blacks to 
 have my features fairly recognized than the women began 
 to blubber, and the men to toss their arms and shout 
 " Masser Mile," " Masser Mile " ; thereby throwing every- 
 thing into confusion, at once placing feeling uppermost at 
 the expense of " law and order." 
 
 To descend from the stilts that seemed indispensable to 
 do credit to Neb's imagination, the manner in which I was 
 received by these simple-minded beings was infinitely touch- 
 ing. All the old ones shook hands with me, while the 
 younger of both sexes kept more aloof, until I went to each 
 in succession, and went through the ceremony of my own 
 accord. As for the boys, they rolled over on the grass, 
 while the little girls kept making curtesies, and repeating 
 "welcome home to Clawbonny, Masser Mile." My heart 
 was full, and I question if any European landlord ever got 
 so warm a reception from his tenantry as I received from 
 my slaves. 
 
 And welcome I was indeed to Clawbonny, and most wel- 
 come was Clawbonny to me! In 1804, New York had still 
 some New York feeling left in the state. Strangers had not 
 completely overrun her as has since happened; and New 
 York names were honored; New York feelings had some 
 place among us; life, homes, firesides, and the graves of our 
 fathers, not yet being treated as so many incidents in some 
 new speculation. Men then loved the paternal roof; and 
 gardens, lawns, orchards, and churchyards were regarded as 
 something other than levels for railroads and canals, streets 
 for villages, or public promenades to be called batteries or 
 parks, as might happen to suit aldermanic ambition, or edi- 
 torial privilege. 
 
 Mr. Hardinge met me at the gate of the little lawn, took 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 445 
 
 me in his arms, and blessed me aloud. We entered the 
 house in silence, when the good old man immediately set 
 about showing me, by ocular proof, that everything was re- 
 stored as effectually as I was restored myself. Venus ac- 
 companied us, relating how dirty she had found this room, 
 how much injured that, and otherwise abusing the Dfeggetts 
 to my heart's content. Their reign had been short, how- 
 ever, and a Wallingford was once more master of the five 
 structures of Clawbonny, I meditated a sixth, even that 
 day, religiously preserving every stone that had been already 
 laid, however, in my mind's intention. 
 
 The next day was that named by Lucy as the one in which 
 she would unite herself to me forever. No secret was made 
 of the affair, but notice had been duly given, that all at 
 Clawbonny might be present. I left home at ten in the 
 morning, in a very handsome carriage that had been built 
 for the occasion, accompanied by Moses attired as a bride's- 
 maid. It is true, his dumpy square-built frame rather cari- 
 catured the shorts and silk stockings, and as we sat side by 
 side in this guise, I saw his eyes roaming from his own 
 limbs to mine. The peculiarity of Moses's toilet was that 
 which all may observe in men of his stamp who come out 
 in full dress. The clothes a good deal more than fit them. 
 Everything is as tight as the skin, and the wearer is ordi- 
 narily about as awkward in his movements and sensations as 
 if he had gone into society in puris naturalihus. That 
 Moses felt the embarrassment of this novel attire was suffi- 
 ciently apparent by his looks and movements, to say nothing 
 of his speech. 
 
 " Miles, I do suppose," he remarked as we trotted along, 
 ** that them that haven't had the advantage of being brought 
 up at home never get a fair growth. Now, here's these legs 
 of mine ; there's plenty of them, but they ought to have been 
 put in a stretcher when I was a youngster, instead of being 
 left to run about a hospital. Well, I'll sail under bare poles 
 this once, to oblige yo!l, bridemaid fashion ; but this is the 
 
44^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 first and last time I do such a thing. Don't forget to make 
 the signal when I'm to kiss Miss Lucy." 
 
 My thoughts were not exactly in the vein to enjoy the 
 embarrassment of Moses, and I silenced him by promising 
 all he asked. We were not elegant enough to meet at the 
 church, but I proceeded at once to the little rectory, where 
 I found the good divine and my lovely bride had just com- 
 pleted their arrangements. And lovely indeed was Lucy in 
 her simple but beautiful bridal attire ! She was unattended, 
 had none of those gay appliances about her that her condi- 
 tion might have rendered proper, and which her fortune 
 would so easily have commanded. Yet it was impossible to 
 be in her presence without feeling the influence of her virgin 
 mien and simple elegance. Her dress was a spotless but 
 exquisitely fine India muslin, well made and accurately fit- 
 ting; and her dark glossy hair was embellished only by one 
 comb ornamented with pearls, and wearing the usual veil. 
 As for her feet and hands, they were more like those of a 
 fairy than of one human, while her countenance was filled 
 with all the heartfelt tenderness of her honest nature. 
 Around her ivory throat and over her polished shoulders 
 hung my own necklace of pearls, strung as they had been on 
 board the Crisis, giving her bust an air of affluent decora- 
 tion, while it told a long story of distant adventure and of 
 well-requited affection. 
 
 We had no bride's-maids (Marble excepted), no groom's- 
 men, no other attendants than those of our respective house- 
 holds. No person had been asked to be present, for we felt 
 that our best friends were with us when we had these de- 
 pendents around us. At one time I had thought of paying 
 Drewett the compliment of desiring him to be a groom's- 
 man, but Lucy set the project at rest by quaintly asking me 
 how I should like to have been his attendant with the same 
 bride. As for Rupert, I never inquired how he satisfied 
 the scruples of his father, though the old gentleman made 
 many apologies to me for his absence. I was heartily 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 447 
 
 rejoiced, indeed, he did not appear, and I think Lucy was 
 so also. 
 
 The moment I appeared in the little drawing-room of the 
 rectory, which Lucy's money and taste had converted into a 
 very pretty but simple room, my "bright and beauteous 
 bride " arose, and extended to me her long-loved hand. 
 The act itself, natural and usual as it was, was performed in 
 a way to denote the frankness and tenderness of her char- 
 acter. Her color went and came a little, but she said 
 nothing. Without resuming her seat, she quietly placed an 
 arm in mine, and turned to her father, as much as to say we 
 were ready. Mr. Hardinge led the way to the church, which 
 was but a step from the rectory, and, in a minute or two, all 
 stood ranged before the altar, with the divine in the chancel. 
 The ceremony commenced immediately, and in less than 
 five minutes I folded Lucy in my arms as my wife. We had 
 gone into the vestry-room for this part of the affair, and 
 there it was that we received the congratulations of those 
 humble, dark-colored beings, who then formed so material a 
 portion of nearly every American family of any means. 
 
 "I wish you great joy and ebbery sort of happiness, 
 Masser Mile," said old Venus, kissing my hand, though I 
 insisted it should be my face, as had often been her practice 
 twenty years before. " Ah ! dis was a blessed day to old 
 masser and missus, could dey saw it, but. And I won't 
 speak of anoder blessed saint dat be in heaven. And you 
 too, my dear young missus; now, we all so grad it be you^ 
 for we did t'ink, at one time, dat would nebber come to 
 pass." 
 
 Lucy laid her own little white velvet-like hand, with the 
 wedding ring on its fourth finger, into the middle of Venus's 
 hard and horny palm in the sweetest manner possible ; re- 
 minding all around her that she was an old friend, and that 
 she knew all the good qualities of every one who pressed 
 forward to greet her, and to wish her happiness. 
 
 As soon as this part of the ceremony was over, we repaired 
 
44^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 to the rectory, where Lucy changed her wedding robe for 
 what I fancied was one of the prettiest demi-toilette dresses 
 I ever saw. I know I am now speaking like an old fellow, 
 whose thoughts revert to the happier scenes of youth with a 
 species of dotage, but it is not often a man has an oppor- 
 tunity of portraying such a bride and wife as Lucy Hardinge. 
 On this occasion she removed the comb and veil as not har- 
 monizing with the dress in which she reappeared, but the 
 necklace was worn throughout the whole of that blessed day. 
 As soon as my bride was ready, Mr. Hardinge, Lucy, Moses, 
 and myself, entered the carriage and drove over to Claw- 
 bonny. Thither all Lucy's wardrobe had been sent, an 
 hour before, under Chloe's superintendence, who had barely 
 returned to the church in time to witness the ceremony. 
 
 One of the most precious moments of my life was that in 
 which I folded Lucy in my arms and welcomed her to the 
 old place as its mistress. 
 
 " We came very near losing it, love," I whispered ; " but 
 it is now ours, unitedly, and we will be in no hurry to turn 
 our backs on it." 
 
 This was in a t^te-k-tete in the family room, whither I 
 had led Lucy, feeling that this little ceremony was due to 
 my wife. Everything around us recalled former scenes, and 
 tears were in the eyes of my bride as she gently extricated 
 herself from my arms. 
 
 " Let us sit down a moment, Miles, and consult on family 
 affairs now we are here," she said, smiling. " It may be 
 early to begin, but such old acquaintances have no need of 
 time to discover each other's wishes and good and bad qual- 
 ities. I agree with you heart and mind in saying we will 
 never turn our backs on Clawbonny — dear, dear Clawbonny, 
 where we were children together, Miles; where we knew so 
 well, and loved so well, our departed Grace — and I hope 
 and trust it will ever be our principal residence. The 
 country-house I inherit from Mrs. Bradfort is better suited 
 to modern tastes and habits, perhaps, but it can never be 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 449 
 
 one-half so dear to either of us. I would not speak to you 
 on this subject before, Miles, because I wished first to give 
 you a husband's just control over me and mine, in giving you 
 my hand; but, now, I may and will suggest what has been 
 passing in my mind on this subject. Riversedge " — so was 
 Mrs. Bradfort's country-house called — " is a good residence, 
 and is sufficiently well furnished for any respectable family. 
 Rupert and Emily must live somewhere, and I feel certain 
 it cannot long be in Broadway. Now I have thought I 
 would reserve Riversedge for their future use. They can 
 take it immediately, as a summer residence; for I prize one 
 hour passed here more than twenty -four hours passed there." 
 
 " What, rebel ! Even should I choose to dwell in your 
 Westchester house ? " 
 
 "You will be here, Miles; and it is on your account that 
 Clawbonny is so dear to me. The place is yours — I am 
 yours — and all your possessions should go together." 
 
 "Thank you, dearest. But will Rupert be able to keep 
 up a town and a country house ? " 
 
 " The first, not long, for a certainty ; how long, you know 
 better than I. When I have been your wife half a dozen 
 years, perhaps you will think me worthy of knowing the 
 secret of the money he actually has." 
 
 This was said pleasantly; but it was not said without 
 anxiety. I reflected on the conditions of my secrecy. 
 Grace wished to keep the facts from Lucy, lest the noble- 
 hearted sister should awaken a feeling in the brother that 
 might prevent her bequest from being carried into effect. 
 Then, she did not think Lucy would ever become my wife, 
 and circumstances were changed, while there was no longer 
 a reason for concealing the truth from the present applicant, 
 at least. I communicated all that had passed on the subject 
 to my deeply-interested listener. Lucy received the facts 
 with sorrow, though they were no more than she had ex- 
 pected to learn. 
 
 " I should be covered with shame were I to hear this from 
 
 29 
 
450 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 any other than you, Miles," she answered, after a thoughtful 
 pause; "but I know your nature too well not to feel certain 
 that the sacrifice scarce cost you a thought, and that you 
 regretted Rupert's self-forgetfulness more than the loss of 
 the money. I confess this revelation has changed all my 
 plans for the future, so far as they were connected with my 
 brother." 
 
 " In what manner, dearest ? Let nothing that has hap- 
 pened to me influence your decisions." 
 
 " In so much as it affects my views of Rupert's character, 
 it must, Miles. I had intended to divide Mrs. Bradfort's 
 fortune equally with my brother. Had I married any man 
 but you, I should have made this a condition of our union; 
 hut you I know so well, and so well know I could trust, that 
 I have found a deep satisfaction in placing myself, as it 
 might be, in your power. I know that all my personal 
 property is already yours, without reserve, and that I can 
 make no disposition of the real, even after I come of age, 
 without your consent. But I had that faith in you as to be- 
 lieve you would let me do as I pleased." 
 
 " Have it still, love. I have neither need, nor wish, to 
 interfere." 
 
 " No, Miles; it would be madness to give property to one 
 of such a character. If you approve, I will make Rupert 
 and Emily a moderate quarterly allowance, with which, hav- 
 ing the use of my country-place, they may live respectably. 
 Further than that I should consider it wrong to go." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say how much I approved of 
 this decision, or the applause I lavished on the warm-hearted 
 donor. The sum was fixed at two thousand dollars a year, 
 before we left the room ; and the result was communicated 
 to Rupert by Lucy herself in a letter written the very next 
 day. 
 
 Our wedding-dinner was a modest, but a supremely happy 
 meal ; and in the evening the blacks had a ball in a large 
 laundry, that stood a little apart, and which was well enough 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 451 
 
 suited to such a scene. Our quiet and simple festivities 
 endured for several days ; the " uner " of Neb and Chloe 
 taking place very soon after our own marriage, and coming 
 in good time to furnish an excuse for dancing the week 
 fairly out. 
 
 Marble got into trousers the day after the ceremony, and 
 then he entered into the frolic with all his heart. On the 
 whole, he was relieved from being a bride's-maid — a suffi- 
 ciently pleasant thing — but having got along so well with 
 Lucy, he volunteered to act in the same capacity to Chloe. 
 The offer was refused, however, in the following classical 
 language : 
 
 "No, Misser Marble; color is color," returned Chloe; 
 " you's white, and we's black. Mattermony is a berry solemn 
 occerpashun ; and there mustn't be no improper jokes at my 
 uner with Neb Clawbonny." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 This disease is beyond my practice ; yet I have known those which have walked 
 in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds. Macbeth. 
 
 The honeymoon was passed at Clawbonny, and many, 
 many other honeymoons that have since succeeded it. I 
 never saw a man more delighted than Mr. Hardinge was, at 
 finding me actually his son-in-law. I really believed he 
 loved me more than he did Rupert, though he lived and 
 died in ignorance of his own son's true character. It would 
 have been cruel to undeceive him; and nothing particular 
 ever occurred to bring about an kdaircissement. Rupert's 
 want of principle was a negative, rather than an active 
 quality, and was only rendered of account by his vanity and 
 selfishness. Self-indulgence was all he aimed at, and he 
 was much too self-indulgent and shrewd to become an active 
 rogue. He would have spenf Lucy's and my joint fortunes, 
 
452 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 had they been put at his control; but, as they never were, 
 he was fain to limit his expenditures to such sums as we 
 saw fit to give him, with certain extra allowances extorted 
 by his debts. Our intercourse was very much restricted to 
 visits of ceremony, at least on my part; though Lucy saw 
 him oftener; and no allusion was ever made to the past. I 
 called him " Mr. Hardinge," and he called me " Mr. Wall- 
 ingford." "Rupert" and "Miles" were done with forever 
 between us. I may as well dispose of the history of this 
 person and his wife at once; for I confess it gives me pain 
 to speak of them, even at this distance of time. 
 
 Rupert lived but four years after my marriage to his sis- 
 ter. As soon as he found it necessary to give up the Broad- 
 way house, he accepted the use of Riversedge and his sis- 
 ter's $2,000 a year, with gratitude, and managed to get along 
 on that sum, apparently, down to the hour of his death. It 
 is true, that I paid his debts, without Lucy's knowledge, 
 twice in that short period ; and I really think he was sensi- 
 ble of his errors, to a certain extent, before his eyes were 
 closed. He left one child, a daughter, who survived him 
 only a few months. Major Merton's complaints had carried 
 him off previously to this. Between this old officer and 
 myself there had ever existed a species of cordiality; and I 
 do believe he sometimes remembered his various obliga- 
 tions to me and Marble in a proper temper. Like most 
 officials of free governments, he left little or nothing behind 
 him ; so that Mrs. Hardinge was totally dependent on her 
 late husband's friends for a support during her widowhood. 
 Emily was one of those semi-worldly characters that are not 
 absolutely wanting in good qualities, while there is always 
 more or less of a certain disagreeable sort of calculation in 
 all they do. Rupert's personal advantages and agreeable 
 manners had first attracted her; and believing him to be 
 Mrs. Bradfort's heir, she had gladly married him. I think 
 she lived a disappointed woman after her father's death; 
 and I was not sorry when she let us know that she was about 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 453 
 
 to "change her condition," as it is termed in widow's par- 
 lance, by marrying an elderly man, who possessed the means 
 of giving her all that money can bestow. With this second, 
 or, according to Venus's nomenclature, j/^-husband, she 
 went to Europe, and there remained, dying only three years 
 ago, an amply-endowed widow. We kept up a civil sort o£ 
 intercourse with her to the last, actually passing a few weeks 
 with her, some fifteen years since, in a house, half barn, half 
 castle, that she called a palace, on one of the unrivalled 
 lakes of Italy. As la Signora Montiera (Montier), she was 
 sufficiently respected, finishing her career as a dowager of 
 good reputation and who loved the "pomps and vanities of 
 this wicked world." I endeavored, in this last meeting, to 
 bring to her mind divers incidents of her early life, but 
 with a singular want of success. They had actually passed, 
 so far as her memory was concerned, into the great gulf of 
 time, keeping company with her sins, and appeared to be 
 entirely forgotten. Nevertheless, la Signora was disposed 
 to treat me and view me with consideration, as soon as she 
 found me living in credit, with money, horses, and carriages 
 at command, and to forget that I had been only a ship- 
 master. She listened smilingly, and with patience, to what, 
 I dare say, were my prolix narratives, though her own recol- 
 lections were so singularly impaired. She did remember 
 something about the wheelbarrow and the canal in Hyde 
 Park ; but as for the voyage across the Pacific, most of the 
 incidents had passed out of her mind. To do her honor, 
 Lucy wore the pearls, on an occasion in which she gave a 
 Y\\X\!^Jesta to her neighbors; and I ascertained she did re- 
 member them. She even hinted to one of her guests, in my 
 hearing, that they had been intended for ^^r originally; but 
 "we cannot command the impulses of the heart, you know, 
 cara mia,^^ she added, with a very self-complacent sort of a 
 sigh. 
 
 What of all this? The ci-devant Emily was no more than 
 a summary of the feelings, interests, and passions of mil- 
 
454 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 lions, living and dying in a narrow circle erected by her 
 own vanities, and embellished by her own contracted notions 
 of what is the end and aim of human existence, and within 
 a sphere that she fancied respectable and refined. 
 
 As for the race of the Clawbonnys, all the elderly mem- 
 bers of this extensive family lived and died in my service, 
 or it might be better to say, I lived in theirs. Venus saw 
 several repetitions of her own charms in the offspring of 
 Neb and Chloe, though she pertinaciously insisted to the 
 last that Cupid, as a step-husband, had no legitimate con- 
 nection with any of the glistening, thick-lipped, chubby set. 
 But even closer family ties than those which bound my 
 slaves to me are broken by the pressure of human institu- 
 tions. The conscript fathers of New York had long before 
 determined that domestic slavery should not continue within 
 their borders; and, one by one, these younger dependents 
 dropped off, to seek their fortunes in town or in other por- 
 tions of the state, until few were left besides Neb, his con- 
 sort, and their immediate descendants. Some of these last 
 still cling to me; the parents having instilled into the chil- 
 dren, in virtue of their example and daily discourse, feelings 
 that set at naught the innovations of a changeable state of 
 society. With them, Clawbonny is still Clawbonny; and I 
 and mine remain a race apart, in their perception of things. 
 I gave Neb and Chloe their freedom-papers the day the 
 faithful couple were married, and at once relieved their 
 posterity from the servitude of eight-and-twenty, and five- 
 and-twenty years, according to sex, that might otherwise 
 have hung over all their elder children, until the law, by a 
 general sweep, manumitted everybody. These papers Neb 
 put in the bottom of his tobacco-box, not wishing to do any 
 discredit to a gift from me ; and there I accidentally saw 
 them, in rags, seventeen years later, not having been opened, 
 or seen by a soul, as I firmly believe, in all that time. It 
 is true, the subsequent legislation of the state rendered all 
 this of no moment ; but the procedure showed the character 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 455 
 
 and disposition of the man, demonstrating his resolution to 
 stick by me to the last. He has had no intention to free 
 me^ whatever may have been my plans for himself and his 
 race. 
 
 I never had more than one conversation with either Neb 
 or his wife on the subject of wages, and then I discovered 
 how tender a thing it was with the fellow, to place him on 
 a level with the other hired people of my farm and house- 
 hold. 
 
 " I won'er what I done, Masser Mile, dat you want to pay 
 me wages, like a hired man?" said Neb, half disposed to 
 resent, and half disposed to grieve at the proposal. " I was 
 born in de family, and it seem to me dat quite enough ; but 
 if dat isn't enough, I went to sea wid you, Masser Mile, de 
 fuss day you go, and I go ebbery time since." 
 
 These words, uttered a little reproachfully, disposed of the 
 matter. From that hour to this, the subject of wages has 
 never been broached between us. When Neb wants clothes, 
 he goes and gets them, and they are charged to "Masser 
 Mile " ; when he wants money he comes and gets it, never 
 manifesting the least shame or reluctance, but asking for 
 all he has need of, like a man. Chloe does the same with 
 Lucy, whom she regards, in addition to her having the honor 
 to be my wife, as a sort of substitute for " Miss Grace." 
 With this honest couple, Mr. and Mrs. Miles Wallingford, 
 of Clawbonny, and Riversedge, and Union Place, are still 
 nothing but " Masser Mile " and " Miss Lucy " ; and I once 
 saw an English traveller take out her note -book, and write 
 something very funny, I dare say, when she heard Chloe 
 thus address the mother of three fine children, who were 
 hanging around her knee, and calling her by that, the most 
 endearing of all appellations. Chloe was indifferent to the 
 note of the traveller, however, still calling her mistress 
 " Miss Lucy," though the last is now a grandmother. 
 
 As for the children of, the house of Nebuchadnezzar, 
 truth compels me to say, that they have been largely influ- 
 
456 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 enced by the spirit of the age, and that they look on the 
 relation that existed for more than a century, between the 
 Wallingfords and the Clawbonnys, with eyes somewhat dif- 
 ferent from those of their parents. They have begun to 
 migrate, and I am not sorry to see them go. Notwithstand- 
 ing, the tie will not be wholly broken so long as any of the 
 older stock remain, tradition leaving many of its traces 
 among them. Not one has ever left my rule without my 
 consent; and I have procured places for them all, as ambi- 
 tion or curiosity has carried them into the world. 
 
 As for this new spirit of the age that is doing so much 
 among us, I am not twaddler enough to complain of all 
 change, for I know that many of these changes have had the 
 most beneficial effects. I am far from thinking that do- 
 mestic slavery, as it once existed at Clawbonny, is a picture 
 of domestic slavery as it existed throughout the land; but I 
 do believe that the institution, as it was formerly known in 
 New York, was quite as much to the disadvantage of the 
 white man as to that of the black. There was always some- 
 thing of the patriarchal character in one of our households 
 previously to the change in the laws; and the relation of 
 master and slave in old, permanent families, in which 
 plenty was no stranger, had ever more or less of that which 
 was respectable and endearing. It is not so much in rela- 
 tion to the abolition spirit (if it would only confine its 
 exertions to communities over which it may happen to pos- 
 sess some right of control), that I feel alarmed, as in refer- 
 ence to a certain spirit, which appears to think there always 
 must be more and more change, and that in connection with 
 any specific interest, whatever may have been its advance- 
 ment under previous ^^^'/w^j-,- nothing in social life being 
 fully developed, according to the creed of these movement- 
 philosophers. Now, in my view of the matter, the two most 
 dangerous of all parties in a state are that which sets up 
 conservatism as its standard, and that which sets up progress : 
 the one is for preserving things of which it would be better 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 457 
 
 to be rid, while the other crushes all that is necessary and 
 useful in its headlong course. I now speak of these op- 
 posing principles, as they are marshalled in parties^ opposi- 
 tion giving pertinacity and violence to each. No sane man 
 can doubt that, in the progress of events, much is produced 
 that ought to be retained, and much generated that it would 
 be wiser to reject. He alone is the safe and wise legislator, 
 who knows how, and when, to make the proper distinctions. 
 As for conservatism, Lafayette once characterized it excel- 
 lently well in one of his happiest hits in the tribune. 
 "Gentlemen talk of the just medium {juste milieu)^^'' he said, 
 "as if it embraced a clear political creed. We all know 
 what the just medium is, as relates to any particular ques- 
 tion; it is simply the truth, as it is connected with that 
 question. But when gentlemen say that they belong to the 
 juste milieu^ as a party ^ and that they intend to steer a middle 
 course in all the public events of the day, they remind me 
 of a case like this — a man of exaggerated notions lays down 
 the proposition that four and four make ten; another of 
 more discretion and better arithmetic combats this idea, by 
 maintaining that four and four make only eight; whereupon, 
 your gentleman of the juste milieu finds himself obliged to 
 say, * Messieurs, you are equally in the wrong; the truth 
 never lies in extremes, and four and four make nine.' " 
 
 What is true of conservatism, as a principle, is still more 
 true as to the movement; for it often happens in morals, as 
 well as in physics, that the remedy is worse than the dis- 
 ease. The great evil of Europe, in connection with inter- 
 ests of this nature, arises from facts that have little or no 
 influence here. There, radical changes have been made, the 
 very base of the social edifice having been altered, while 
 much of the ancient architecture remains in the superstruc- 
 ture. Where this is the case, some errors may be pardoned 
 in the artisans who are for reducing the whole to the sim- 
 plicity of a single order. But, among ourselves, the man who 
 can see no end to anything earthly, ever maintaining that the 
 
458 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 best always lies beyond, if he live long enough to succeed, 
 may live long enough to discover that truth is always on an 
 eminence, and that the downward course is only too easy to 
 those who rush in so headlong a manner at its goal, as to 
 suffer the impetus of the ascent to carry them past the apex. 
 A social fact cannot be carried out to demonstration like a 
 problem in Euclid, the ramifications being so infinite as to 
 reduce the results to something very like a conclusion from 
 a multitude of interests. 
 
 It is next incumbent to speak of Marble. He passed an 
 entire month at Clawbonny, during which time he and Neb 
 rigged the Grace and Lucy seven different ways, coming 
 back to that in which they found her, as the only rig in 
 which she would sail; no bad illustration, by the way, of 
 what is too often the winding up of experiments in overdone 
 political movements. Moses tried shooting, which he had 
 heard belonged to a country life ; and he had a sort of de- 
 sign to set up as a fourth or fifth class country gentleman ; 
 but his legs were too short to clamber over high rail-fences 
 with any comfort, and he gave up the amusement in despair. 
 In the course of a trial of ten days, he brought in three 
 robins, a small squirrel, and a crow; maintaining that he 
 had also wounded a pigeon, and frightened a whole flock of 
 quails. I have often bagged ten brace of woodcocks of a 
 morning in the shooting-grounds of Clawbonny, and as 
 many quails in their season. 
 
 Six weeks after our marriage, Lucy and I paid Willow 
 Cove a visit, where we passed a very pleasant week. To 
 my surprise, I received a visit from 'Squire Van Tassel, 
 who seemed to bear no malice. Marble made peace with 
 him as soon as he paid back the amount of his father's 
 bond, principal and interest, though he always spoke of him 
 contemptuously to me in private. I must confess I was 
 astonished at the seemingly forgiving temper of the old 
 usurer; but I was then too young to understand that there 
 are two principles that govern men's conduct as regards their 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 459 
 
 associations; the one proceeding from humility and Chris- 
 tian forgiveness, and the other from an indifference to what 
 is right. I am afraid the last produces more of what is 
 called a forgiving temper than the first; men being often 
 called vindictive, when they are merely honest. 
 
 Marble lost his mother about a twelvemonth after we re- 
 turned from our unfortunate voyage in the Dawn. A month 
 or two earlier he lost his niece, little Kitty, by a marriage 
 with the son of " neighbor Bright." After this, he passed 
 much of his time at Clawbonny, making occasional visits 
 to us, in Chamber street, in the winter. I say in Chamber 
 street, as trade soon drove us out of Lucy's town residence 
 in Wall street. The lot on which the last once stood is 
 still her property, and is a small fortune of itself. I pur- 
 chased and built in Chamber street, in 1805, making an ex- 
 cellent investment. In 1825, we went into Bleecker street, 
 a mile higher up town, in order to keep in the beau quartier; 
 and I took advantage of the scarcity of money and low prices 
 of 1839, to take up new ground in Union Place, very nearly 
 a league from the point where Lucy commenced as a house- 
 keeper in the good and growing town of Manhattan. 
 
 After Marble found himself an orphan again, he com- 
 plained that he was little better off than a " bloody hermit" 
 at Willow Cove, and began to talk about seeing the world. 
 All of a sudden he made his appearance at Clawbonny, bag 
 and baggage, and announced an intention to look for a 
 mate's berth in some East Indiaman. I heard his story, 
 kept him a day or two with me, while I superintended the 
 masons who were building my addition to the house, which 
 was then nearly completed, and then we proceeded to town 
 in company. I took Moses to the shipyards, and carried 
 him on board a vessel that was just receiving her spars 
 (she was coppered and copper-fastened, A No. 1, of live-oak 
 frame, and southern pine decks, etc.), asking him how he 
 liked her. He hoped shob had a good name. " Why, she is 
 called the Smudge," I answered. " I hope you fancy it.'* 
 
460 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 Moses jerked a finger over his shoulder, as much as to say 
 he understood me, and inquired where I intended to send 
 the craft. "To Canton, with you for master." I saw that 
 my old mate was touched with this proof of confidence, and 
 that his self-esteem had so much risen with the discovery 
 of his origin that he made no objections to the trust. I did 
 not intend to go regularly into commerce, but I kept the 
 Smudge running many years, always under Marble, and 
 made a vast deal of money by her. Once she went to 
 Europe, Lucy and I going in her as passengers. This was 
 after the death of my dear old guardian, who made such an 
 end as became his virtuous and Christian life. We, that 
 is Lucy and I, remained abroad several years, returning 
 home in the Smudge, and on the last voyage she ever made 
 as belonging to me. Neb had often been out in the ship, 
 just to vary the scene; and he came to Havre in her, as a 
 matter of course, when " Masser Mile," " Miss Lucy," and 
 their two "young massers," and two "young missuses," 
 were ready to come home. I was a good deal shocked at 
 meeting my old friend, Moses, on this occasion, for he was 
 breaking up fast, being now hard upon seventy; a time 
 of life when most seamen are unfit for their calling. Moses, 
 however, had held on, with a determination to convey us all 
 back to Clawbonny. Three days after we had sailed, the 
 man of stone had to give up and take to his berth. I saw 
 that his days were numbered, and felt it to be a duty to let 
 him know his real situation. It was an unpleasant office, 
 but became less so by the resigned and manly manner in 
 which the invalid heard me. It was only when I ceased 
 speaking that he made an attempt to reply. 
 
 " I have known that the v'y'ge of life was pretty near up, 
 Miles," he then answered, "for many a day. When the 
 timbers complain and the new tree-nails hit only decayed 
 wood, it is time to think of breaking up the hull for the 
 craft's copper and old iron. I've pretty much worn out the 
 Smudge, and the Smudge has pretty much worn out me. I 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 46 1 
 
 shall never see Ameriky, and I now give up charge of the 
 craft to you. She is your own now, and nobody can take 
 better care of her. I own I should like to be cased in some- 
 thing that once belonged to her. There's the bulkhead 
 that was taken down to alter the staterooms for your family 
 — it would make as comfortable a coffin as a body could 
 want." 
 
 I promised the old man all should be done as he desired. 
 After a short pause, it struck me the present might be a 
 favorable moment to say a word on the subject of the future. 
 Marble was never a vicious man, nor could he be called a 
 particularly wicked man, as the world goes. He was thor- 
 oughly honest, after making a few allowances for the pe- 
 culiar opinions of seamen, and his sins were principally 
 those of omission. But, of religious instruction he had lit- 
 erally known none in early life. That which he had picked 
 up in his subsequent career was not of the most orthodox 
 character. I had often thought Marble was well disposed 
 on such subjects, but opportunity was always wanting to 
 improve this hopeful disposition. Accordingly, I now spoke 
 plainly to him, and I could see his still keen eyes turned 
 wistfully toward me more than once as he listened with an 
 absorbed attention. 
 
 ** Ay, ay. Miles," he answered, when I was through, *' this 
 may all be true enough, but it's rather late in the day for 
 me to go to school. I've heard most of it before in one 
 shape or another, but it always came so much in scraps and 
 fragments that before I could bend one idee on to another 
 so as to make any useful gear of the whole, some of the 
 pieces have slipped through my fingers. Hows'ever, I've 
 been hard at work at the good book the whole of this v'y'ge, 
 and you know it's been a long one; and I must say that I've 
 picked up a good deal that seems to me to be of the right 
 quality. Now I always thought it was one of the foolishest 
 things a man could do ^to forgive one's enemies, my rule 
 having been to return broadside for broadside, as you must 
 
462 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 pretty well know; but I now see that it is more like a kind 
 natur' to pardon than to revenge." 
 
 " My dear Moses, this is a very hopeful frame of mind ; 
 carry out this feeling in all things, leaning on the Saviour 
 alone for your support, and your dying hour may well be the 
 happiest of your life." 
 
 " There's that bloody Smudge, notwithstanding ; I hardly 
 think it will be expected of me to look upon him as any- 
 thing but a 'longshore pirate, and a fellow to be disposed of 
 in the shortest way possible. As for old Van Tassel, he's 
 gone to square the yards in a part of the universe where all 
 his tricks will be known ; and I hold it to be onreasonable 
 to carry spite ag'in a man beyond the grave. I rather think 
 I have altogether forgiven him ; though, to speak the truth, 
 he desarved a rope's-ending." 
 
 I understood Marble much better than he understood 
 himself. He felt the sublime beauty of the Christian mor- 
 ality, but at the same time, he felt there were certain notions 
 so rooted in his own heart that it exceeded his power to ex- 
 tract them. As for Smudge, his mind had its misgivings 
 concerning the propriety of his own act, and with the quick- 
 ness of his nature, sought to protect itself against its own 
 suggestions by making an exception of that wretch, as 
 against the general mandates of God. Van Tassel he prob- 
 ably could in a manner pardon, the mischief having been in 
 a measure repaired ; though it was a forgiveness that was 
 strangely tinctured with his own deep contempt for the 
 meanness of the transgressor. 
 
 Our conversation lasted a long time. At length Lucy 
 joined in it, when I thought it wisest to leave the old tar in 
 the hands of one so well fitted by nature and education to 
 be the instrument, under the providence of God, of bringing 
 him to a more healthful view of his condition. I had the 
 ship to take care of, and this was a good excuse for not in- 
 terfering much with what passed between the dying man 
 and her who might almost be termed his ministering angel. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 463 
 
 I overheard many of their conferences, and was present at 
 some of their prayers, as were my sons and daughters; being 
 thus enabled to understand the progress that was made and 
 the character of the whole procedure. 
 
 It was an admirable sight, truly, to see that still lovely 
 woman, using all the persuasion of her gentle rhetoric, all 
 the eloquence of her warm feelings and just mind, devoting 
 herself for days and days to the labor of leading such a 
 spirit as that of Marble's to entertain just and humble views 
 of his own relation to the Creator and his Son, the Saviour 
 of men. I will not say that complete success crowned the 
 pious efforts of the single-hearted woman it was my blessed 
 fortune to call my wife ; this, perhaps, was not to be expected. 
 It required a power exceeding hers to guide the human heart 
 at seventy, after a seaman's life, to a full repentance of its 
 sins; but, by the grace of God, so much seemed to be ac- 
 complished, as to give us all reason to hope that the seed 
 had taken root, and that the plant might grow under the 
 guidance of that Spirit in whose likeness the most lowly of 
 the race has been created. 
 
 The passage was long, but very tranquil, and there was 
 ample time for all that has been related. The ship was 
 still to the eastward of the Grand Banks, when Marble 
 ceased to converse much ; though it was evident his thoughts 
 were intently musing. He fell away fast, and I began to 
 look forward to his final departure, as an event that might 
 occur at any hour. He did not seem to suffer, but his hold 
 of life gradually gave way, and the spirit was about to take 
 its departure, purely on account of the decayed condition of 
 the earthly tenement in which it had so long dwelt, as the 
 stork finally deserts the tottering chimney. 
 
 About a week after this change, my son Miles came to 
 me on deck, and informed me his dear mother desired to 
 see me in the cabin. On going below, I was met by Lucy, 
 with a face that denoted how solemn she felt was the char- 
 acter of the intelligence sfle had to communicate. 
 
464 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 "The moment is at hand, dear Miles," she said. "Our 
 old friend is about to be called away." 
 
 I felt a pang at this speech, though I had long expected 
 the result. Many of the earlier and more adventurous years 
 of my life passed rapidly in review before me, and I found 
 the image of the dying man blended with nearly all. 
 Whatever may have been his peculiarities, to me he had 
 always been true. From the hour when I first shipped, as 
 a runaway boy, on board the John, down to that hour, Moses 
 Marble had proved himself a firm and disinterested friend 
 to Miles Wallingford. 
 
 "Is he conscious.?" I asked, anxiously. "When I last 
 saw him, I thought his mind wandered a little." 
 
 " Perhaps it did; but he is now more collected, if not en- 
 tirely so. There is reason to think he has at length felt 
 some of the influence of the Redeemer's sacrifice. For the 
 last week, the proofs of this have been increasing." 
 
 No more passed between Lucy and me, on the subject, at 
 that time ; but I entered the cabin in which the cot of Mar- 
 ble had been slung. It was a spacious, airy room, for a 
 ship; one that had been expressly fitted by my orders, for 
 the convenience of Lucy and her two daughters, but which 
 those dear, self-denying creatures had early and cheerfully 
 given up, to the possession of their old friend. 
 
 As yet, I have not particularly spoken of these two girls, 
 the eldest of whom was named Grace, and the youngest 
 Lucy. At that time, the first was just fifteen, while her sis- 
 ter was two years younger. By a singular coincidence, Grace 
 resembled the women of my family most; while the latter, 
 the dear, ingenuous, frank, pretty little thing, had so much 
 likeness to her mother, when at the same time of life, that 
 I often caught her in my arms, and kissed her, as she uttered 
 some honest sentiment, or laughed joyously and melodiously, 
 as had been the practice of her who bore her, twenty years 
 before. On those occasions, Lucy would smile, and some- 
 times a slight blush would suffuse her face; for I could see 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 465 
 
 she well understood the impulse which would so suddenly 
 carry me off to the days of my boyhood and boyish affection. 
 
 On the present solemn occasion both the girls were in the 
 cabin, struggling to be calm, and doing all that lay in their 
 power to solace the dying man. Grace, the oldest, was the 
 most active and efficient, of course, her tender years induc- 
 ing diffidence in her sister; still, that little image of her 
 mother could not be kept entirely in the background, when 
 the heart and desire to be useful were urging her to come 
 out of herself, in order to share in her sister's duties. 
 
 I found Marble quite sensible, and the anxious manner 
 in which he slowly examined all the interested faces that 
 were now gathered about his bed, proved how accurately he 
 noted the present and the absent. Twice did he go over us 
 all, ere he spoke in the husky tones that usually precede 
 death. 
 
 " Call Neb," he said — " I took leave of my mates, and of 
 all the rest of the men, yesterday; but I consider Neb as 
 one of the family, Miles, and left him for the last." 
 
 This I knew to be true, though I purposely absented my- 
 self from a scene that I well understood would have to be 
 repeated in my case. Neb was summoned accordingly, not 
 a syllable being uttered among us, until the black stood just 
 without the circle of my own wife and children. Moses 
 watched the arrangement jealously, and it seems he was dis- 
 satisfied at seeing his old shipmate keeping so much aloof 
 at that solemn and absorbing moment. 
 
 ** You are but a nigger, I know. Neb," the old seaman got 
 out, " but your heart would do honor to a king. It's next 
 to Miles's, and that's as much as can be said of any man's. 
 Come nearer, boy; none here will grudge you the liberty." 
 
 Little Lucy drew back in an instant, and fairly pulled 
 Neb into the place she herself had just before occupied. 
 
 "Bless you for that, young 'un," said Marble. "I didn't 
 know your mother when she^was of your age, but I can see 
 that one cat-block is not more like another than you are like 
 30 
 
466 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 what she was at your age ; keep that likeness up, my dear, 
 and then your father will be as happy and fortinate in his 
 darter as he has been in his wife. Well, nobody desarves 
 his luck better than Miles — providential luck, I mean, my 
 dear Madam Wallingford," interpreting a sorrowful ex- 
 pression of Lucy's eyes aright ; " for thanks to your teach- 
 ing, I now understand there is a divine director of all our 
 fortins, whether ashore or afloat, black or white." 
 
 " There is not a sparrow falls, Captain Marble," said the 
 gentle, earnest voice of my wife, " that he does not note it." 
 
 " Yes, so I understand it now, though once I thought little 
 of such things. Thus, when we were wracked in the Dawn, 
 Neb, it was by God's will, and with a design, like, to bring 
 us three all on to our present fortin, and present frame of 
 mind; should I ever use the word luck, ag'in, which I may 
 be likely enough to do from habit, you are all to understand 
 I mean what I call providential luck. Yes, Madam Wall- 
 ingford, I comprehend it perfectly, and shall never forget 
 your kindness, which has been to me the best turn of provi- 
 dential luck that has ever happened. I've sent for you. Neb, 
 to have a parting word, and to give you the advice of an old 
 man before I quit this world altogether." 
 
 Neb began to twist his fingers, and I could see tears glis- 
 tening in his eyes; for his attachment to Marble was of 
 very long standing and of proof. When men have gone 
 through, together, as much as we three had experienced in 
 company, indeed, the most trifling griefs of every-day life 
 get to appear so insignificant, that our connection seems to 
 be one of a nature altogether stronger than the commoner 
 ties. 
 
 "Yes, sah, Cap'in Marble, sah; what please to be your 
 wish, sah? " asked the negro, struggling to subdue his grief. 
 
 " To say a few words of advice, Neb, to take leave of my 
 friends, and then to be struck off the shipping articles of 
 life. Old age and hard sarvice, Neb, has made me veer 
 cable to the better end. The stopper is working loose, and 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 467 
 
 a few more surges will leave the hulk adrift. The case is 
 different with you, who are in your prime, and a prime chap 
 be you on a yard or at the wheel. My parting advice to 
 you, Neb, is, to hold out as you've begun. I don't say 
 you're without failin's (what nigger is?), but you're a good 
 fellow, and as sartin to be found in your place as the pumps. 
 In the first place, you're a married man ; and, though your 
 wife is only a negress, she's your wife, and you must stick 
 to her through thick and thin. Take your master as an 
 example, and obsarve how he loves and cherishes your mis- 
 tress " [here Lucy pressed, gently, closer to my side] ; " and 
 then, as to your children, bring 'em up accordin' to the ad- 
 vice of Madam Wallingford. You can never sail under bet- 
 ter instructions than hern, as I know, by experience. Be 
 particular to make that Hector of yours knock off from 
 swearing; he's begun, and what's begun in sin is pretty 
 sartain to have an endin'. Talk to him, first, and, if that 
 won't do, rope's-end it out of him. There's great vartue in 
 ratlin stuff among boys. As for yourself, Neb, hold on as 
 you have begun, and the Lord will have marcy on you be- 
 fore the v'y'ge is up." 
 
 Here Marble ceased from exhaustion ; though he made a 
 sign to Neb not to move, as he had more to say. After 
 resting a little, he felt under his pillow, whence he produced 
 a very old tobacco-box, fumbled about until he had opened 
 it, took a small bite, and shut the box again. All this was 
 done very slowly, and with the uncertain, feeble movements 
 of a dying man. When the lid was replaced, Marble held 
 the box toward Neb, and resumed his address. 
 
 " Use that for my sake, Neb," he said. " It is full of ex- 
 cellent tobacco, and the box has the scent of thirty years in 
 it — that being the time it has sailed in my company. That 
 box has been in nine fights, seven wracks, and has seen more 
 boat-sarvice than most London watermen, or any Whitehaller 
 of 'em all. Among other e^plites, it has been round the 
 world four times, besides having run the Straits of Magellan 
 
468 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 in the dark, as might be — as your master and you know as 
 well as I do. Take that box, therefore, lad, and be partic- 
 ular, always, to put none but the best of pig-tail in it, fot 
 it's used to that only. And now. Neb, a word about a little 
 duty you're to do for me, when you get in. Ask your master, 
 first, for leave, and then go up to Willow Cove and carry 
 my blessin' to Kitty and her children. It's easy done, if a 
 man sets about it in the right spirit. All you have to do is 
 to go up to the Cove and say that I prayed to God to bless 
 'em all before I died. Do you think you can remember 
 that?" 
 
 " I try, Cap'in Marble, sah — yes, sah, I try all I can, 
 dough I'm no scholar." 
 
 " Perhaps you had better confide this office to me," said 
 the musical voice of my wife. 
 
 Marble was pleased, and he seemed every way disposed 
 to accept the offer. 
 
 "I didn't like to trouble you so much," he answered, 
 " though I feel grateful for the offer. Well, then. Neb, you 
 may leave the blessin' unsaid, as your mistress is so kind — 
 hold on a bit; you can give it to Chloe and her little family 
 — all but Hector, I mean, but not to him unless he knocks 
 off swearing! As soon as he does that, why let him have 
 his share. Now, Neb, give me your hand. Good-by, boy; 
 you've been true to me, and God bless you for it. You are 
 but a nigger, I know ; but there's One in whose eyes your 
 soul is as precious as that of many a prince and priest." 
 
 Neb shook hands with his old commander, broke out of 
 the circle, rushed into the steerage, and blubbered like a 
 baby. In the mean time Marble paused to recover his own 
 self-possession, which had been a little disturbed by the 
 feeling manifested by the black. As soon as he felt him- 
 self a little composed, he hunted about his cot until he 
 found two small paper boxes, each of which contained a 
 very pretty ring, that it seemed he had purchased for this 
 express purpose when last in port. These rings he gave to 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 469 
 
 my daughters, who received the presents sobbing, though 
 with strong natural exhibitions of the friendly sentiments 
 they entertained for him. 
 
 " Your father and I have gone through many hardships 
 and trials together," he said, "and I love you all even more 
 than I love my own relations. I hope this is not wrong, 
 Madam Wallingford, for it's out of my power to help it. 
 I've already given my keepsakes to the boys, and to your 
 parents, and I hope all of you will sometimes remember the 
 poor old sea-dog that God, in his wisdom, threw like a waif 
 in your way, that he might be benefited by your society. 
 There's your polar star, young 'uns," pointing to my wife. 
 " Keep God in mind always, and give to this righteous 
 woman the second place in your hearts — not that I say a 
 word, or think anything ag'in your father, who's a glorious 
 fellow in his way, but, a'ter all, young women should copy 
 a'ter their mothers, when they've such a mother as yourn, 
 the best of fathers fallin' far astern, in gentleness and other 
 vartues." 
 
 The girls wept freely, and Marble, after waiting a few 
 minutes, took a solemn leave of all my children, desiring 
 everybody but Lucy and myself to quit the cabin. An hour 
 passed in discourse with us two, during which Moses fre- 
 quently exhorted me to give ear to the pious counsels of my 
 wife, for he manifested much anxiety for the future welfare 
 of my soul. 
 
 " I've generalized a great deal over that affair of Smudge 
 the whole of this v'y'ge," he continued, " and I've had some 
 misgivings consarning the explite. Madam Wallingford, 
 however, has eased my mind on that score by showing me 
 how to lay the burthen of this, with all the rest of the load 
 of my sins, on the love of Christ. I am resigned to go. 
 Miles, for it is time, and I'm getting to be useless. It's 
 wicked to wish to run a ship after her frame has worked 
 loose, and nothing now fastens me to life but yoa. I own 
 it's hard to part, and my mind has had some weakness on 
 
4^0 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 the matter. However, Miles, my dear boy, for boy you are 
 still in my eyes, there is comfort in looking ahead. Go by 
 your wife's rules, and when the v'y'ge is up we shall all find 
 ourselves in the same haven." 
 
 " It gives me much happiness, Moses, to find you in this 
 frame of mind," I answered. " Since you must quit us, you 
 will not leave one behind of the name of Wallingford, that 
 will not rejoice at this prospect for the future. As for your 
 sins, God has both the power and the will to lighten you of 
 their weight, when he finds you disposed to penitence, and 
 to make use of the mediation of his blessed Son. If there 
 is anything you desire to have done hereafter, this is a very 
 proper time to let me know it." 
 
 " I've made a will, Miles, and you'll find it in my desk. 
 There are some trifles given to you and yourn, but you want 
 not gold, and the rest all goes to Kitty and her children. 
 There is a p'int, however, on which my mind is very onde- 
 tarmined, and I will now lay it before you. Don't you 
 think it more becoming for a seaman to be buried in blue 
 water than to be tuck'd up in a churchyard? I do not like 
 tombstones, having had too much of them in 'arly youth, 
 and feel as if I want sea-room. What is your opinion, 
 Miles?" 
 
 " Decide for yourself. Your wishes will be our law." 
 
 "Then roll me up in my cot and launch me overboard in 
 the old way. I have sometimes thought it might be well to 
 lie at my mother's side; but she'll excuse an old tar for pre- 
 ferring blue water to one of your country churchyards." 
 
 After this, I had several interviews with the old man, 
 though he said nothing more on the subject of his inter- 
 ment, that of his property, or that of his departure. Lucy 
 read the Bible to him two or three times every day, and she 
 prayed with him often. On one occasion I heard a low, 
 sweet voice, near his cot, and taking a look, ascertained it 
 was my little pet, my daughter Lucy, then only thirteen, 
 reading a second time a chapter that her mother had gone 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4^1 
 
 through only an hour before, with some of her own remarks. 
 The comments were wanting now, but the voice had the 
 same gentle earnestness, the same sweet modulations, and 
 the same impressive distinctness as that of the mother! 
 
 Marble lived until we had passed within the Gulf stream, 
 dying easily and without a groan, with all my family. Neb, 
 and the first mate assembled near his cot. The only thing 
 that marked his end was a look of singular significance that 
 he cast on my wife not a minute before he breathed his last. 
 There he lay, the mere vestige of the robust, hardy seaman I 
 had once known, a child in physical powers, and about to 
 make the last great change. Material as were the altera- 
 tions in the man, from what he had been when in his pride, 
 I thought the spiritual or intellectual part of his being was 
 less to be recognized than the bodily. Certainly that look 
 was full of resignation and hope, and we had reason to be- 
 lieve that this rude but honest creature was spared long 
 enough to complete the primary object of his existence. 
 
 In obedience to his own earnest request, though sorely 
 against the feelings of my wife and daughters, I buried the 
 body of my old friend in the ocean six days before we made 
 the land. 
 
 And now it remains only to speak of Lucy. I have de- 
 ferred this agreeable duty to the last, passing over long 
 years that were pregnant with many changes in order to con- 
 clude with this delightful theme. 
 
 The first few years of my married life were years of bliss 
 to me. I lived under a constant sense of happiness — a 
 happiness that man can derive only from a union with a 
 woman of whom his reason and principles as much approve 
 as his tastes and passion cherish. I do not mean to be un- 
 derstood that the years which have succeeded were a whit 
 less happy, for, in a certain sense, they have been more so, 
 and have gone on increasing in happiness down to the 
 present hour; but because time and use finally so far ac- 
 customed me to this intimate connection with purity, virtue, 
 
472 MILES VVALLINGFORD. 
 
 female disinterestedness, and feminine delicacy, that I 
 should have missed them, as things incorporated with my 
 very existence, had I been suddenly deprived of my wife, 
 quite as much as in the first years of my married life, I en- 
 joyed them as things hitherto unknown to me. 
 
 As I ride over the fields of Clawbonny, even at this day, 
 I recall with tranquil delight, and I trust with humble grat- 
 itude, the manner in which those blessed early years of our 
 marriage passed. That was the period when every thought 
 of mine was truly shared by Lucy. She accompanied me in 
 my daily rides or drives, and listened to every suggestion 
 that fell from my lips, with kind interest and the most in- 
 dulgent attention, rendering me back thought for thought, 
 feeling for feeling, laugh for laugh; and occasionally tear 
 for tear. Not an emotion could become aroused in my 
 breast that it did not meet with its reflection in hers; or a 
 sense of the ludicrous be awakened, that her keen, but 
 chastened humor did not increase its effect by sympathy. 
 Those were the years in which were planned and executed 
 the largest improvements for the buildings, pleasure- 
 grounds, and fields of Clawbonny. We built extensively, 
 not only out-houses and stables better suited to our present 
 means, and more enlarged mode of living than those which 
 existed in my father's time, but, as has been stated before, 
 we added to the dwelling, preserving its pleasing confusion 
 and irregularity of architecture. After passing the first 
 summer which succeeded our marriage in this manner, I 
 told Lucy it was time to stop building and improving my 
 own place, in order that some attention might be bestowed 
 on that she had inherited from Mrs. Bradfort, and which 
 was also old family property. 
 
 " Do not think of it. Miles," she said. " Keep Riversedge 
 in good order, and no more. Rupert," who was then living, 
 and in possession, "will see that nothing goes to waste; but 
 Clawbonny, dear Clawbonny, is the true home of a Walling- 
 ford — and I am now a Wallingford, you will remember. 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 4/3 
 
 Should this precious boy of ours live to become a man, and 
 marry, the old Westchester property can be used by him, 
 until we are ready to give him up possession here." 
 
 This plan has not been literally carried out; for Miles, 
 my eldest son, lives with us at Clawbonny in the summer; 
 and his noisy boys are at this moment playing a game of 
 ball in a field that has been expressly devoted to their 
 amusements. 
 
 The period which succeeded the first half dozen years of 
 my union with Lucy was not less happy than the first had 
 been; though it assumed a new character. Our children 
 then came into the account, not as mere playthings, and 
 little beings to be most tenderly loved and cared for, but as 
 creatures that possess the image of God in their souls, and 
 whose future characters, in a measure, depended on our in- 
 struction. The manner in which Lucy governed her chil- 
 dren and led them by gentle means to virtue and truth has 
 always been a subject of the deepest admiration and grati- 
 tude with me. Her rule has been truly one of love. I do 
 not know that I ever heard her voice raised in anger to any 
 human being, much less to her own offspring; but whenever 
 reproof has come, it has come in the language of interest 
 and affection, more or less qualified by severity, as circum- 
 stances may have required. The result has been all that 
 our fondest hopes could have led us to anticipate. 
 
 When we travelled, it was with all our young people, and 
 a new era of happiness, heightened by the strongest domestic 
 affection, opened on us. All who have seen the world have 
 experienced the manner in which our intellectual existences, 
 as it might be, expand; but no one who has not experienced 
 it can tell the deep, heartfelt satisfaction there is in receiv- 
 ing this enlargement of the moral creature in close associa- 
 tion with those we love most on earth. The manner in 
 which Lucy enjoyed all she saw and learned on our first 
 visit to the other hemisphere; her youngest child — all four 
 of our children were born within the first eight years of 
 
474 MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 our marriage — her youngest child was then long past its in- 
 fancy, and she had leisure to enjoy herself, in increasing 
 the happiness of her offspring. She had improved her 
 mind by reading; and her historical lore, in particular, was 
 always ready to be produced for the common advantage. 
 There was no ostentation in this; but everything was pro- 
 duced just as if each had a right to its use. Then it was I 
 felt the immense importance of having a companion, in an 
 intellectual sense, in a wife. Lucy had always been intel- 
 ligent; but I never fully understood her superiority in thi? 
 respect until we travelled together amid the teeming recol- 
 lections and scenes of the old world. That America is the 
 greatest country of ancient or modern times I shall not 
 deny. Everybody says it; and what everybody says must 
 be true. Nevertheless, I will venture to hint that, cceteris 
 paribus, and where there is the disposition to think at all, 
 the intellectual existence of every American who goes to 
 Europe is more than doubled in its intensity. This is the 
 country of action, not of thought or speculation. M.QXiJollow 
 out their facts to results, instead of reasoning them out. 
 Then, the multiplicity of objects and events that exist in 
 the old countries to quicken the powers of the mind has no 
 parallel here. It is owing to this want of the present and 
 the past which causes the American, the moment he becomes 
 speculative, to run into the future. That future promises 
 much, and, in a degree, may justify the weakness. Let us 
 take heed, however, that it do not lead to disappointment. 
 
 After all, I have found Lucy the most dear to me, and the 
 most valuable companion, since we have both passed the 
 age of fifty. Air is not more transparent than her pure 
 mind, and I ever turn to it for counsel, sympathy, and sup- 
 port, with a confidence and reliance that experience could 
 alone justify. As we draw nearer to the close of life, I find 
 my wife gradually loosening the ties of this world, her love 
 for her husband and children excepted, and fastening her 
 looks on a future world. In thus accomplishing with a 
 
MILES WALLINGFORD. 475 
 
 truth and nature that are unerringly accurate, the great end 
 of her being, nothing repulsive, nothing that is in the least 
 tinctured with bigotry, and nothing that is even alienated 
 from the affections, or her duties in life, is mingled with 
 her devotion. My family, like its female head, has ever 
 been deeply impressed by religion; but it is religion in its 
 most pleasing aspect; religion that has no taint of puritan- 
 ism, and in which sin and innocent gayety are never con- 
 founded. It is the most cheerful family of my acquaint- 
 ance; and this, I must implicitly believe, solely because, in 
 addition to the bounties it enjoys, under the blessing of 
 God, it draws the just distinction between those things that 
 the word of God has prohibited, and those which come from 
 the excited and exaggerated feelings of a class of theo- 
 logians, who, constantly preaching the doctrine of faith, 
 have regulated their moral discipline solely, as if, in their 
 hearts, they placed all their reliance on the efficacy of a 
 school of good works that has had its existence in their own 
 diseased imaginations. I feel the deepest gratitude to Lucy 
 for having instilled the most profound sense of their duties 
 into our children, while they remain totally free from cant, 
 and from those exaggerations and professions which so many 
 mistake for piety of purer emanation. 
 
 Some of my readers may feel a curiosity to know how 
 time has treated us elderly people, for elderly we have cer- 
 tainly become. As for myself, I enjoy a green old age, and 
 I believe look at least ten years younger than I am. This 
 I attribute to temperance and exercise. Lucy was positively 
 an attractive woman until turned of fifty, retaining even a 
 good deal of her bloom down to that period of life. I think 
 her handsome still; and old Neb, when in a flattering 
 humor, is apt to speak of either of my daughters as his 
 " handsome young missus," and of my wife as his " hand- 
 some ole missus." 
 
 And why should not Lucy Hardinge continue to retain 
 many vestiges of those charms which rendered her so lovely 
 
47^ MILES WALLINGFORD. 
 
 in youth? Ingenuous, pure of mind, sincere, truthful, 
 placid, and just, the soul could scarcely fail to communicate 
 some of its blessed properties to that countenance which 
 even now so sensitively reflects its best impulses. I repeat, 
 Lucy is still handsome, and in my eyes even her charming 
 daughters are less fair. That she has so long been, and is 
 still my wife, forms not only the delight, but the pride of 
 my life. It is a blessing, for which, I am not ashamed to 
 say, I daily render thanks to God, on my knees. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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