“My niece has heard that thou comest from the old countries, Master Seadrift,” said the wary Alderman, who preceded Alida, “and the woman is uppermost in her heart. Thou wilt never be forgiven, should the eye of any maiden in Manhattan get sight of thy finery before she has passed judgment on its merit.”
“I cannot wish a more impartial or a fairer judge;” returned the other, doffing his cap in the gallant and careless manner of his trade. “Here are silks from the looms of Tuscany, and Lyonnois brocades, that any Lombard, or dame of France, might envy. Ribbons of every hue and dye, and laces that seem to copy the fret-work of the richest cathedral of your Fleming!”
“Thou hast journeyed much, in thy time, Master Seadrift, and speakest of countries and usages with understanding,” said the Alderman. “But how stand the prices of these precious goods? Thou knowest the long war, and the moral certainty of its continuance; this German succession to the throne, and the late earthquakes in the country, too, have much unsettled prices, and cause us thoughtful burghers to be wary in our traffic.—Didst inquire the cost of geldings, when last in Holland?”
“The animals go a-begging!—As to the value of my goods, that you know is fixed; for I admit of no parley between friends.”
“Thy obstinacy is unreasonable, Master Seadrift. A wise merchant will always look to the state of the market, and one so practised should know that a nimble sixpence multiplies faster than a slow-moving shilling. ’Tis the constant rolling of the ball that causes the snow to cleave! Goods that come light should not go heavy, and quick settlements follow sudden bargains. Thou knowest our York saying, that ‘first offers are the best.’”
“He that likes may purchase, and he that prefers his gold to fine laces, rich silks, and stiff brocades, has only to sleep with his money-bags under his pillow. There are others who wait, with impatience, to see the articles; and I have not crossed the Atlantic, with a freight that scarcely ballasts the brigantine, to throw away the valuables on the lowest bidder.”
“Nay, uncle,” said Alida, in a little trepidation “we cannot judge of the quality of Master Seadrift’s articles, by report. I dare to say, he has not landed without a sample of his wares?”
“Custom and friendships!” muttered Myndert; “of what use is an established correspondence, if it is to be broken on account of a little cheapening? But produce thy stores, Mr. Dogmatism; I warrant me the fashions are of some rejected use, or that the color of the goods be impaired by the usual negligence of thy careless mariners. We will, at least pay thee the compliment to look at the effects.”
“’Tis as you please,” returned the other. “The bales are in the usual place, at the wharf, under the inspection of honest Master Tiller—but if so inferior in quality, they will scarce repay the trouble of the walk.”
“I’ll go, I’ll go,” said the Alderman, adjusting his wig and removing his spectacles; “’twould not be treating an old correspondent well, to refuse to look at his samples,—thou wilt follow, Master Seadrift, and so I will pay thee the compliment to examine the effects—though the long war, the glut of furs, the over-abundance of the last year’s harvests, and the perfect quiet in the mining districts, have thrown all commerce flat on its back. I’ll go, however; lest thou shouldst say, thy interests were neglected. Thy Master Tiller is an indiscreet agent; he gave me a fright to-day that exceeds any alarm I have felt since the failure of Van Halt, Balance, and Diddle.”