“Some of my family are Royalists, though some of them are in opposition, and are what you, I fear, would call rebels. I do not like the word.”
“Nor do I,” I answered warmly. “Though I am a naval officer, and fighting is my vocation, I wish that this dispute were settled. I would rather have any other enemies than those we are now fighting with.”
“I am glad to hear you utter that sentiment, sir,” said Mrs Tarleton, who had overheard the last part of our conversation, as she continued her never-ceasing walk on deck. “Cherish it, for it may produce wholesome fruit in time to come.”
The wind held fair, and with the prize in tow, and the Lady Parker, which could easily keep up with us in company, we steered a direct course for the then small town of Newport, off which I hoped to find the admiral. After the conversation I have described above, the ice in Mrs Tarleton’s manner gradually thawed. She began to regard me with some degree of interest, and to look on me simply as a misguided young man whom she might hope to win over to the cause to which she herself was so warmly attached. I certainly did my best to obtain her good opinion, as well as that of her niece, and I felt that at all events I was winning that of the latter.
Delightful and strange were the sensations I experienced as I leaned over the bulwarks by the side of that lovely girl, while we watched the blue sparkling wavelets, and I told her of the wonders of the deep, and now and then threw in a description of some of the adventures I had gone through. It was, I repeat, fortunate for me that she was at heart a loyalist, or she would inevitably just then have converted me to whatever opinions she held. We watched the glorious sun descend into his ocean bed in a golden radiance which suffused the whole western sky; and then the pale moon arose, and we stayed to gaze on its silvery beams as they played over the calm waters of the ocean, just crisped into wavelets by the light easterly breeze which blew us on our way. It was very delightful. We were both of us very young, and very unsophisticated. I had scarcely ever spoken to a young lady. The last I had seen, and the impression she had made was not deep, was Miss Deborah Doulass, the fair daughter of a retired linen-draper at Falmouth. The Poynders are in no way a phlegmatic race. The young lady was not backward in appreciating my sentiments, and we might very probably have stood gazing at the ocean till the moon had gone to bed also, when Miss Carlyon was summoned somewhat hastily by her aunt. She put out her hand, and as I pressed it I felt as if an electric shock had run through me. The elder lady drew her shawl round her, and, bowing stiffly, they retired one after the other down the companion-ladder.
I walked the deck for some time, all sorts of new sensations jumping away round my heart and in my head, and then I turned into the temporary berth I had had rigged for myself in the hold, ordering Tom Rockets to keep a sharp look-out, and to call me the moment he suspected even that anything, however trifling, was going wrong. Close to my berth, and divided only by a thin bulk-head, was the place where the prisoners were sleeping. They were all snoring away when I turned in, but after a time I heard one of them give some grunts.
“Peter,” said a voice. “Peter, are you awake, man?”
I knew by the grating harsh tones that it was that of the lank skipper.
“Yes, captain; I’m awake. What’s your will?” was the answer.
“I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking of,” said the captain in a very low voice, evidently getting near the person he was addressing. “It wouldn’t be a hard matter to take this craft, and make off with her. She is short-handed. We have four stout fellows, and the woman I make sure would help us. I’d undertake, while he is caterwauling away with the young gal, to knock that young sprig of an officer overboard. Then we’d cast off the hawser, and let the ‘Crab’ go adrift. They needn’t know it was done on purpose; and while the other king’s ship was looking after her to pick her up, we’d have a fine start. At all events, this craft has the best pair of heels, and she would never come up with us again. What do you say, Peter, to this?”