“The good old plan,
That they should get, who have the power,
And they should keep, who can.”
Wordsworth.
The apartment, in which our adventurer now found himself, afforded no bad illustration of the character of its occupant. In its form, and proportions it was a cabin of the usual size and arrangements; but, in its furniture and equipments, it exhibited a singular admixture of luxury and martial preparation. The lamp, which swung from the upper deck, was of solid silver; and, though adapted to its present situation by mechanical ingenuity, there was that, in its shape and ornaments, which betrayed it had once been used before some shrine of a far more sacred character. Massive candlesticks of the same precious metal, and which partook of the same ecclesiastical formation, were on a venerable table, whose mahogany was glittering with the polish of half a century, and whose gilded claws, and carved supporters, bespoke an original destination very different from the ordinary service of a ship. A couch, covered with cut velvet, stood along the transom; while a divan, of blue silk, lay against the bulkhead opposite, manifesting, by its fashion, its materials, and its piles of pillows, that even Asia had been made to contribute to the ease of its luxurious owner. In addition to these prominent articles, there were cut glass, mirrors, plate, and even hangings; each of which, by something peculiar in its fashion or materials, bespoke an origin different from that of its neighbour. In short, splendour and elegance seemed to have been much more consulted than propriety, or conformity in taste, in the selection of most of those articles, which had been, oddly enough, made to contribute to the caprice or to the comfort of their singular possessor.
In the midst of this medley of wealth and luxury, appeared the frowning appendages of war. The cabin included four of those dark cannon whose weight and number had been first to catch the attention of Wilder. Notwithstanding they were placed in such close proximity to the articles of ease just enumerated, it only needed a seaman’s eye to perceive that they stood ready for instant service, and that five minutes of preparation would strip the place of all its tinsel, and leave it a warm and well protected battery. Pistols, sabres, half-pikes, boarding-axes and all the minor implements of marine warfare, were arranged about the cabin in such a manner as to aid in giving it an appearance of wild embellishment, while, at the same time, each was convenient to the hand.
Around the mast was placed a stand of muskets, and strong wooden bars, that were evidently made to fit in brackets on either side of the door, sufficiently showed that the bulkhead might easily be converted into a barrier. The entire arrangement proclaimed that the cabin was considered the citadel of the ship. In support of this latter opinion, appeared a hatch, which evidently communicated with the apartments of the inferior officers, and which also opened a direct passage into the magazine. These dispositions, a little different from what he had been accustomed to see, instantly struck the eye of Wilder, though leisure was not then given to reflect on their uses and objects.
There was a latent expression of satisfaction, something modified, perhaps, by irony, on the countenance of the stranger in green, (for he was still clad as when first introduced to the reader,) as he arose, on the entrance of his visiter. The two stood several moments without speaking, when the pretended barrister saw fit to break the awkward silence.
“To what happy circumstance is this ship indebted for the honour of such a visit?” he demanded.
“I believe I may answer, To the invitation of her Captain,” Wilder answered, with a steadiness and calmness equal to that displayed by the other.
“Did he show you his commission, in assuming that office? They say, at sea, I believe, that no cruiser should be found without a commission.”
“And what say they at the universities on this material point?”