RECOLLECTIONS OF A WANDERER.
An Incident on the Coast.
Towards the close of an afternoon in the dreary month of December, a small vessel was descried in the offing, from the pier of a romantic little hamlet on the coast of ——. The pier was this evening nearly deserted by those bold spirits, who, when sea and sky conspire to frown together, loved to resort there to while away their idle hours. Only a few "out-and-outers" were now to be seen at their accustomed station, defying the rough buffetings of the blast, which on more tender faces might have acted almost with the keenness of a razor. Though the evening certainly looked wild and stormy to an unpractised eye, still to those who "gauge the weather" it was unaccompanied with those unerring symptoms which usually usher in a gale. However, the appearance of the night was so uninviting, as to have induced the local craft to run some time before along shore for shelter; and the movements of the strange vessel were consequently a matter of speculation to those on land. There is something to our minds exceedingly interesting in a solitary vessel at sea—it is a point on which you may hinge your attention—a living thing on the desert-bosom of the main. For sometime her movements were apparently very undecided, but though the weather seemed to be looking up, she suddenly put about helm, and ran without further wavering right for the shelter held out at Lanport. In less than twenty minutes she was safe alongside the pier. She was one of the larger class of fishing vessels and was well manned. The attention of the bystanders was now directed to an individual who seemed to be a passenger, and who immediately landed after conversing for a short while with the master. The gentleman brought ashore an immoderately large carpet-bag, and forthwith marched for the chief street of Lanport. When we say chief, we, perhaps, ought to add that it was the only assemblage of buildings in the village, which by the comparative uniformity of their arrangement, could lay claim to such a title. On reaching the foot of the declivity, the traveller, who was evidently much jaded with his marine excursion, espied with symptoms of satisfaction, the antiquated sign-post of an "hostelrie" swinging before him in the breeze. Without further investigation, but with "wandering steps and slow," he decided on taking up his quarters at the "Mermaid Inn and Tavern, by Judith, (or Judy as she was called by some) Teague." This determination of the traveller would, however, have turned out to be "Hobson's choice" had his eyes wandered in quest of a rival establishment, for here Mrs. Judy Teague reigned supreme amongst "licensed victuallers," no rival having hitherto been found bold enough to enter the field against her. The leisurely advance of the traveller up the street, had given all the old gossips and that numerous class who esteem other people's business of infinitely greater consequence than their own, full opportunity to remark on his dress and appearance; in which as faithful chroniclers we have not gathered that there was anything remarkable—save and except the enormous carpet-bag aforesaid, about which its owner seemed as solicitous as the traveller in Rob Roy. A stranger was, at the period we are describing, a rara avis in terris indeed at Lanport; and it may be conceived that the news of this arrival was discussed round every hearth in the place within half an hour at the utmost. Mrs. Teague is recorded to have advanced to the door with unwonted rapidity (bearing in mind that she had halted a little since she was on the wrong side of forty, from a rheumatic affection,) to meet such an "iligant-looking guest;" and certain it is that he had not been two hours in the house, before it was evident that both parties were on an excellent footing together. The old lady was seen to come from the best—the parlour we mean to say—of the Mermaid, with very unusual symptoms of good humour on her countenance, considering (as Betsy the "maid of all work" whispered to "Jack Ostler,") that her visage had generally a "vinegar cruet" association; though we would not take upon ourselves to assert that brandy had not a greater share in its composition.
The strange gentleman continued in close occupation of the parlour during the entire evening. The mysterious carpet bag was secured in an upper room, and its owner chased away the damps and cold of the season by unusually liberal potations; in short, Mrs. Judith declared to the numerous party of customers who had assembled from chance or curiosity on her hearth, that he was the most liberal gentleman that had ever crossed her threshold in the way of business, since Julius O'Brien (commonly called the tippling exciseman,) had unexpectedly departed this life by mistaking the steep staircase of the Mermaid for a single step, one night when his brain was more than usually beclouded. The arrival of the stranger, however, had nearly caused a schism between the hostess and her leading customers; for the former had whilst he honoured the Mermaid with his presence, engaged the parlour for his exclusive accommodation—an arrangement contrary to all the rules of Lanport etiquette; and he might have experienced rather a rude reception had not Mrs. Judy given up her sanctum sanctorum for the temporary use of the "elect."
Next day, the morning had passed away, nay, the sun was fast careering towards the western horizon, and yet the stranger exhibited no inclination to explore the locality of Lanport. Night at last set in, but still he remained in close quarters as before.
This appeared the more strange, as the situation of Lanport was singularly wild and interesting. The prospect from the wooded and rocky heights of the coast was of great and commanding beauty; and the inland view presented many scenes and objects highly calculated to invite the attention of the lover of nature or the curious traveller. It was evident that the stranger was deficient in both these points.
The history of the next day closely corresponded with that of the preceding. There he sat. That night there was again a strong muster around the capacious hearth of the Mermaid. If the stranger was deficient in that inherent passion of the human mind—curiosity—not so the villagers. But one sentiment seemed to pervade the assembled party, and that may be summed up in the words "Who is he?" An echo responded "Who is he?" Conjecture was literally at a fault. His very appearance was unknown to all except the fortunate few that had beheld him in his march from the pier; the fishing boat had put to sea before any one thought of making inquiry as to the freight it had delivered, but every one agreed that there was something of an extraordinary character about the said freight. Ever and anon the parlour door opened, and a lusty ring of the hand-bell summoned the hostess into that now mysterious room: and the volley of questions which assailed her on her return were enough to overturn the very moderate stock of patience which she possessed, had it been centupled. She declared that "the jintleman was like other jintlemen, and barring that he seemed the b'y for the brandy," she saw nothing amiss in him. In the midst of this excitement in walked the officer commanding the preventive service of the district. He was soon closeted in the sanctum, and after a due discussion of the singular proceedings of the stranger, on the part of each member of the Lanport smoking club, the worthy lieutenant declared "it was not only d——d odd, but very suspicious;" and that he would beard the foe who had so unceremoniously taken possession of their own proper apartment, face to face, even though he should turn out to be Beelzebub, in propriâ personâ. This determination was received with a vast and simultaneous puff of exultation from every pipe in the room, so that the cloud was for a short space so great as completely to envelope the ample proportions of Mrs. Judy Teague, who had been an unnoticed witness of this bold proposal. The lieutenant was striding onwards in full career towards the parlour, which lay at the opposite side of the intervening kitchen, when he somewhat roughly encountered the fair form of Mrs. Teague, which was extended halfway through the doorcase with a view to prevent his egress.
"Och! murder, Lafetennant ——, and is this the way you'd be sarving a lone woman, and she a widow these twelve year agon, since Michael Tague's (Heaven rest his sowl!) been laid aneath the turf!"
The lieutenant apologized for the rather unceremonious way in which he had run foul of Mrs. Teague.
"Och! Lafetennant," she responded, "its not that agra! (here she gave a twinge) that Judy Tague would ever spake of from the like of you—but its against your goin' and insulting the jintl'm in the parlour that I was spaking of—and a rale jintl'm he is, I'll be bail."
But it was all of no avail. After holding forth for several minutes, now at the top of her voice, now in a beseeching whine—the lieutenant again got under weigh, and soon reached the parlour door; which after giving a slight tap, he entered fully prepared to take its inmate by storm. But, lo! he had vanished! It appeared impossible that any portion of the previous conversation could have been wafted to his ears, but certain it was, that in place of a living occupant of flesh and blood, nothing but the wavering shadow of an ancient high-backed chair near the fire—which cast a faint and uncertain light through the apartment—met the eyes of the angry lieutenant. A heavy step overhead announced that he had just retired to his sleeping-room. Thus was the now greatly increased curiosity of the smoking club doomed to receive an unexpected check. The stranger was evidently no ordinary person—the conversation gradually sank away—and more than one individual of the company started in the course of the evening as the wind now wailed with a strange unearthly sound up the silent street, and now blew in violent gusts which made the old house creak and groan to its very foundations. Our gallant friend, the lieutenant, was perhaps the only individual absolutely unmoved in the party; and his proposal to retake possession of the parlour met with a general negative. Nettled at this, he declared that another sun should not go down over his head, without obtaining some satisfactory account of this mysterious visitant.
The third day came, and with it a partial change in the conduct of the stranger. He appeared to have in some measure shaken off his indolence, and sallied forth betimes in the morning, apparently to examine the beauties of the coast, towards the rocky wilds of which he was seen to wend his way. About noon he again returned to the Mermaid. This conduct partially disarmed the suspicion which had been excited; however it was agreed that though nothing had hitherto occurred which could authorize any direct interference with his movements, yet that a watch should be kept over them for the present.
The afternoon threatened to turn out stormy. Vast masses of clouds were continually driven across the sky: and the increasing agitation and deep furrows of the ocean foretold a night fraught with peril and disaster to the seaman. Drear December seemed about to assume his wildest garb. This day of the week always brought the county paper. A solitary copy of this journal was taken by Mrs. Teague, and it formed the sole channel (alas! for the march of intellect,) by which the smoking club and other worthies of Lanport were enlightened on the sayings and doings of the great world. It must not be inferred from this that the demon of politics was unknown in this retired spot; on the contrary, the arrival of the —— Journal, was looked for with the utmost impatience from week to week; and as long as its tattered folio hung together, its contents formed a never ending subject of conversation. On the day of its arrival, therefore, the "club" invariably met many hours before their wonted time, to discuss politics and pigtail, revolutions and small beer.
This circumstance, and the state of the weather, had drawn a numerous party around the hearth at the Mermaid. The delay which took place in the arrival of the newspaper seemed unusual; the "spokesman" had cleared his throat, the pipes had long been lit, but still it was not forthcoming. Mrs. Teague at last announced that it was engaged by the "jintleman in the parlour." The patience of the party lasted half an hour longer, when the clamorous calls for news dictated the step of sending a message to the stranger. It met with an ungracious reception. At this moment some one came in with the intelligence that a suspicious looking craft was hovering off the coast, and that the lieutenant (whose absence was thus accounted for) was about to put off in his galley to bring her to and overhaul her.
A second and a third message to the parlour having met with the same success as the first, the ire of all began to rise, and after a clamorous discussion it was at last resolved, (it was now broad daylight,) that they should go in a body and storm the enemy's quarters. The room was situated at the other end of the house, and thither they proceeded, after a few preliminary difficulties had been arranged as to who should first lead the way. But if the lieutenant had been astonished at the disappearance of the stranger the preceding night, much greater was the surprise evinced on the present occasion on finding the room again tenantless. It had evidently only just been vacated; but what created the greatest sensation was the discovery of the smoking remains of the —— Journal, on the hood of the fireplace! Every one crowded around, and presently intelligence was brought that the stranger, carrying his enormous carpet bag had been seen walking at a great speed towards Shorne Cove, a retired little spot within a short distance of the harbour. As is often the case on such occasions, several minutes elapsed before any plan was determined upon, but some one at last wisely suggested that if he was to be pursued, no time ought to be lost. The appearance of the strange vessel on the coast, and the day's occurrence, were connected together, as they hurried onwards in the pursuit; but when they arrived at the seashore, the mysterious man and his carpet bag were no longer visible, unless a large boat which was pulling out to sea as fast as wind and tide would permit, gave a clue to his invisibility. Every eye was now cast out for the strange sail.
About a mile from the pier-head, a large lugger under a press of canvass was seen coming down the wind, with the galley in close pursuit. From the freshness of the wind and the quantity of sail she was able to carry, it was evident that the king's boat had little chance with her. As the chase came careering along, dropping the galley rapidly astern, the interest hinged on the apparent connexion between her and the boat which had just left Shorne Cove with its unknown freight. From their relative situations it was evident she must bring to for a short space if she intended to pick up the fugitive; and this delay might possibly enable the galley to draw her. For a few minutes the scene was one of exciting interest. The lugger broached to as had been anticipated, and she had scarcely shipped the strange boat's crew, when the galley pitching bows under was close in her wake. But it was too late. The lugger had no sooner paid off, so as to get the wind again abaft the beam, than she rapidly got way on her, and the wind continuing to freshen, in half an hour she was all but hull down.
The night passed not over the heads of the good folks of Lanport, without numberless recriminations on the stupidity which had been displayed in not arresting the stranger before it was too late; and the ferment was not lessened on the arrival of another copy of the —— Journal, which contained a paragraph headed with the glittering words, "ONE THOUSAND POUNDS REWARD."