“You do me injustice, Madam,” returned Wilder, with warmth, glancing his eye unconsciously towards the grave, but deeply attentive Gertrude, as he spoke; “there is no danger that I would not cheerfully encounter, to save you, or this young lady, from harm.”
“Even this young lady must be sensible of your chivalry!” Then, losing the constrained manner with which, until now, she had maintained the discourse in one more natural, and one far more in consonance with her usually mild and thoughtful mien, Mrs. Wyllys continued, “You have a powerful advocate, young man, in the unaccountable interest which I feel in your truth; an interest that my reason would fain condemn. As the ship must need your services, I will no longer detain you. Opportunities cannot be wanting to enable us to judge both of your inclination and ability to serve us. Gertrude, my love, females are usually considered as incumbrances in a vessel; more particularly when there is any delicate duty to perform, like this before us.”
Gertrude started, blushed, and proceeded, after her governess, to the opposite side of the quarter-deck followed by an expressive look from our adventurer which seemed to say, he considered her presence any thing else but an incumbrance. As the ladies immediately took a position apart from every body, and one where they were least in the way of working the ship, at the same time that they could command an entire view of all her manoeuvres the disappointed sailor was obliged to cut short a communication which he would gladly have continued until compelled to take the charge of the vessel from the hands of the pilot. By this time, however, the anchor was a-weigh, and the seamen were already actively engaged in the process of making sail. Wilder lent himself, with feverish excitement, to the duty; and, taking the words from the officer who was issuing the necessary orders, he assumed the immediate superintendence in person.
As sheet after sheet of canvas fell from the yards, and was distended by the complicated mechanism, the interest that a seaman ever takes in his vessel began to gain the ascendancy over all other feelings By the time every thing was set, from the royals down, and the ship was cast with her head towards the harbour’s mouth, our adventurer had probably forgotten (for the moment only, it is true) that he was a stranger among those he was in so extraordinary a manner selected to command, and how precious a stake was intrusted to his firmness and decision. After every thing was set to advantage, alow and aloft, and the ship was brought close upon the wind, his eye scanned every yard and sail, from the truck to the hull, and concluded by casting a glance along the outer side of the vessel, in order to see that not even the smallest rope was in the water to impede her progress. A small skiff, occupied by a boy, was towing under the lee, and, as the mass of the vessel began to move, it was skipping along the surface of the water, light and buoyant as a feather. Perceiving that it was a boat belonging to the shore, Wilder walked forward, and demanded its owner. A mate pointed to Joram, who at that moment ascended from the interior of the vessel, where he had been settling the balance due from a delinquent, or, what was in his eyes the same thing, a departing debtor.
The sight of this man recalled Wilder to a recollection of all that had occurred that morning, and of the whole delicacy of the task he had undertaken to perform. But the publican, whose ideas appeared always concentrated when occupied on the subject of gain, seemed troubled by no particular emotions at the interview. He approached the young mariner and, saluting him by the title of “Captain,” bade him a good voyage, with those customary wish es which seamen express, when about to separate on such an occasion.
“A lucky trip you have made of it, Captain Wilder,” he concluded, “and I hope your passage will be short. You’ll not be without a breeze this afternoon; and, by stretching well over towards Montauck you’ll be able to make such an offing, on the other tack, as to run the coast down in the morning. If I am any judge of the weather, the wind will have more easting in it, than you may happen to find to your fancy.”
“And how long do you think my voyage is likely to last?” demanded Wilder, dropping his voice so low as to reach no ears but those of the publican.
Joram cast a furtive glance aside; and, perceiving that they were alone, he suffered an expression of hardened cunning to take possession of a countenance that ordinarily seemed set in dull, physical contentment, as he replied, laying a finger on his nose while speaking,—
“Didn’t I tender the consignee a beautiful oath, master Wilder?”
“You certainly exceeded my expectations with your promptitude, and”—