“In other words, Captain Ludlow is not as sagacious as he had reason to believe,” said an ironical voice, at his elbow.
“In what manner am I to blame, or why is my privacy to be interrupted, because a wandering seaman has deceived the commander of the Coquette?” rejoined Alida. “Not only that audacious mariner, but this—this person,” she added, adopting a word that use has appropriated to the multitude, “is a stranger to me. There is no other connexion between us, than that you see.”
“It is not necessary to say why I landed,” continued Ludlow; “but I was weak enough to allow that unknown mariner to quit my ship, in my company; and when I would return, he found means to disarm my men, and make me a prisoner.”
“And yet, art thou, for a captive, tolerably free!” added the ironical voice.
“Of what service is this freedom, without the means of using it? The sea separates me from my ship, and my faithful boat’s-crew are in fetters. I have been little watched, myself; but though forbidden to approach certain points, enough has been seen to leave no doubts of the character of those whom Alderman Van Beverout entertains.”
“Thou wouldst also say, and his niece, Ludlow?”
“I would say nothing harsh to, or disrespectful of, Alida de Barbérie. I will not deny that a harrowing idea possessed me,—but I see my error, and repent having been so hasty.”
“We may then resume our commerce,” said the trader, cooly seating himself before the open bale, while Ludlow and the maiden stood regarding each other in mute surprise. “It is pleasant to exhibit these forbidden treasures to an officer of the Queen. It may prove the means of gaining the royal patronage. We were last among the velvets, and on the lagunes, of Venice. Here is one of a color and quality to form a bridal dress for the Doge himself, in his nuptials with the sea! We men of the ocean look upon that ceremony as a pledge Hymen will not forget us, though we may wander from his altars. Do I justice to the faith of the craft, Captain Ludlow?—or are you a sworn devotee of Neptune, and content to breathe your sighs to Venus, when afloat? Well, if the damps and salt air of the ocean rust the golden chain, it is the fault of cruel nature!—Ah! here is—”
A shrill whistle sounded among the shrubbery, and the speaker became mute. Throwing his cloths carelessly on the bale, he arose again, and seemed to hesitate. Throughout the interview with Ludlow, the air of the free-trader had been mild, though, at times, it was playful; and not for an instant had he seemed to return the resentment which the other had so plainly manifested. It now became perplexed, and, by the workings of his features, it would seem that he vacillated in his opinions. The sounds of the whistle were heard, again.
“Aye, aye, Master Tom!” muttered the dealer in contraband. “Thy note is audible, but why this haste? Beautiful Alida, this shrill summons is to say, that the moment of parting is arrived!”