A piteous fearful sight,
A noble vessel laboring with the storm. —Maturin.
It is time that we should say something of the young officer, who, as the reader has suspected, is destined to play no inconsiderable part in our story.
Major Gordon had been left an orphan at an early age, with but a small competence, most of which had been exhausted on his education, so that, on his attaining his majority, his whole property consisted of little more than sufficient to purchase a library and support himself for a couple of years. By assiduity in his profession, however, which was that of the law, assisted by a natural gift of eloquence, he rapidly rose to ease and distinction; and was fast taking rank, indeed, among the eminent advocates of whom Philadelphia boasted then, as now, when the war of Independence broke out. Like most other generous and heroic spirits, he threw himself with ardor into the patriotic cause. Abandoning his practice and the tempting offers it held out, he joined the troops raised by the colony of Pennsylvania, in which he speedily attained the rank of Major. Subsequently he had been attached to the staff of General Wayne, and afterwards had been employed on several delicate missions, where judgment and discretion were required as well as courage. It was one of these latter tasks which had brought him to the coast now. A cargo of powder was expected to be landed in the river, and as it was much wanted at camp, he had been despatched to receive and forward it to head-quarters.
There were as yet no signs of daybreak, when Major Gordon, who had slept but indifferently, awoke and looked at his watch. By the dim light of the solitary candle, he saw that morning would dawn by the time they could get their craft ready; and accordingly, picking his way between the rows of beds, he descended into the lower apartment, and proceeded to arouse Mullen. The latter individual was awoke with some difficulty.
“Morning, is it, Major?” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Why the night’s as black as a wolf’s mouth yet. Look at the window and see for yourself.”
“But it will be daylight before we are ready. I’d trust my watch sooner than my eyes, especially on a morning like this.”
“Well, I’m your man,” said Mullen, who, being now thoroughly awake, sprang up with alacrity and proceeded to arouse his comrades, one by one; carefully avoiding, however, disturbing the other sleepers, who all slumbered heavily after their debauch.
In a short while the little band came forth and took their way, by the light of a lantern, to the spot where Mullen’s craft was moored.
“What a storm it has been,” said Major Gordon. “I heard the rain beating, the wind roaring, and the waters dashing, all through the night. Sometimes I also fancied I distinguished signal-guns; but that, I began to fear, was only a dream, since there’s no sign of them now.”
“It’s sartain none have been fired since we came out,” answered Mullen, “for we’d have been sure to hear ‘em. The wind has lulled, but the gale’s not over. There’ll maybe not much more rain fall; but I shouldn’t be surprised to hear it blow great guns the better part of the day.”