Afloat and Ashore Part 41

"It would be hopeless, then, to attempt to explain the matter. If you had your hand in at the spherical, I could make it all as plain as the capstan."

"You and Captain Wallingford must be somewhat old acquaintances, I conclude?"

"Somewhat," answered Marble, very drily.

"Have you ever been at the place that he calls Clawbonny? A queer name, I rather think, Captain!"

"Not at all, sir. I know a place, down in the Eastern States, that was called Scratch and Claw, and a very pretty spot it was."

"It's not usual for us to the eastward, to give names to farms and places. It is done a little by the Boston folk, but they are notional, as everybody knows."

"Exactly; I suppose it was for want of use, the chap I mean made out no better in naming his place."

Mr. Brigham was no fool; he was merely a gossip. He took the hint, and asked no more questions of Marble. He tried Neb, notwithstanding; but the black having his orders, obeyed them so literally, that I really believe we parted in Bordeaux, a fortnight later, without any of the family's making the least discovery. Glad enough was I to get rid of them; yet, brief as had been our intercourse, they produced a sensible influence on my future happiness. Such is the evil of this habit of loose talking, men giving credit to words conceived in ignorance and uttered in the indulgence of one of the most contemptible of all our propensities. To return to my s.h.i.+p.

We reached Bordeaux without any further accident, or delay. I discharged in the usual way, and began to look about me, for another freight. It had been my intention to return to New York, and to keep the festivities of attaining my majority, at Clawbonny; but, I confess the discourse of these eternal gossips, the Brighams, had greatly lessened the desire to see home again, so soon. A freight for New York was offered me, but I postponed an answer, until it was given to another s.h.i.+p. At length an offer was made me to go to Cronstadt, in Russia, with a cargo of wines and brandies, and I accepted it. The great and better informed merchants, as it would seem, distrusted the continuance of the hollow peace that then existed, and a company of them thought it might be well to transfer their liquors to the capital of the czar, in readiness for contingencies. An American s.h.i.+p was preferred, on account of her greater speed, as well as on account of her probable neutral character, in the event of troubles occurring at any unlooked-for moment. The Dawn took in her wines and brandies accordingly, and sailed for the Baltic about the last of August. She had a long, but a safe pa.s.sage, delivering the freight according to the charter-party, in good condition. While at Cronstadt, the American consul, and the consignees of an American s.h.i.+p that had lost her master and chief-mate by the smallpox, applied to me to let Marble carry the vessel home. I pressed the offer on my old friend, but he obstinately refused to have anything to do with the vessel. I then recommended Talcott, and after some negotiation, the latter took charge of the Hyperion. I was sorry to part with my mate, to whom I had become strongly attached; but the preferment was so clearly to his advantage, that I could take no other course. The vessel being ready, she sailed the day after Talcott joined her; and, sorry am I to be compelled to add, that she was never heard of, after clearing the Cattegat. The equinox of that season was tremendously severe, and it caused the loss of many vessels; that of the Hyperion doubtless among the rest.

Marble insisted on taking Talcott's place, and he now became my chief-mate, as I had once been his. After a little delay, I took in freight on Russian government account, and sailed for Odessa. It was thought the Sublime Porte would let an American through; but, after reaching the Dardanelles, I was ordered back, and was obliged to leave my cargo in Malta, which it was expected would be in possession of its own knights by that time, agreeably to the terms of the late treaty.

From Malta I sailed for Leghorn, in quest of another freight. I pa.s.s over the details of these voyages, as really nothing worthy of being recorded occurred. They consumed a good deal of time; the delay at the Dardanelles alone exceeding six weeks, during which negotiations were going on up at Constantinople, but all in vain. In consequence of all these detentions, and the length of the pa.s.sages, I did not reach Leghorn until near the close of March, I wrote to Grace and Mr.

Hardinge, whenever a favourable occasion offered, but I did not get a letter from home, during the whole period. It was not in the power of my sister or guardian--_late_ guardian would be the most accurate expression, as I had been of age since the previous October--to write, it being impossible for me to let them know when, or where, a letter would find me. It followed, that while my friends at home were kept tolerably apprised of my movements, I was absolutely in the dark as respected them. That this ignorance gave me great concern, it would be idle to deny; yet, I had a species of desperate satisfaction in keeping aloof, and in leaving the course clear to Mr. Andrew Drewett. As respects substantials, I had sent a proper power of attorney to Mr.

Hardinge, who, I doubted not, would take the same care of my temporal interests he had never ceased to do since the day of my beloved mother's death.

Freights were not offering freely at Leghorn, when the Dawn arrived.

After waiting a fortnight, however, I began to take in for America, and on American account. In the meantime, the cargo coming to hand slowly, I left Marble to receive it, and proceeded on a little excursion in Tuscany, or Etruria, as that part of the world was then called. I visited Pisa, Lucca, Florence, and several other intermediate towns. At Florence, I pa.s.sed a week looking at sights, and amusing myself the best way I could. The gallery and the churches kept me pretty busy, and the reader will judge of my surprise one day, at hearing my own name uttered on a pretty high key, by a female voice, in the Duomo, or Cathedral of the place. On turning, I found myself in the presence of the Brighams! I was overwhelmed with questions in a minute. Where had I been? Where was Talcott? Where was the s.h.i.+p? When did I sail, and whither did I sail?

After this came the communications. _They_ had been to Paris; had seen the French Consul, and had dined with Mr. R. N. Livingston, then negotiating the treaty of Louisiana; had seen the Louvre; had been to Geneva; had seen the Lake; had seen Mont Blanc; had crossed Mont Cenis; had been at Milan; Rome; had seen the Pope; Naples; had seen Vesuvius; had been at Paestum; had come back to Florence, and _nous voici!_ Glad enough was I, when I got them fairly within the gates of the City of the Lily. Next came America; from which part of the world they received such delightful letters! One from Mrs. Jonathan Little, a Salem lady then residing in New York, had just reached them. It contained four sheets, and was full of _news._ Then commenced the details; and I was compelled to listen to a string of gossip that connected nearly all the people of mark, my informants had ever heard of in the great _Commercial_ Emporium that was to be. How suitable is this name! Emporium would not have been sufficiently distinctive for a town in which "the merchants" are all in all; in which they must have the post-office; in which they support the nation by paying all the revenue; in which the sun must s.h.i.+ne and the dew fall to suit their wants; and in which the winds, themselves, may be recreant to their duty, when they happen to be foul! Like the Holy Catholic Protestant Episcopal Church, Trading Commercial Trafficking Emporium should have been the style of such a place; and I hope, ere long, some of the "Manor Born" genii of that great town, will see the matter rectified.

"By the way, Captain Wallingford," cut in Jane, at one of Sarah's breathing intervals, that reminded me strongly of the colloquial Frenchman's "_s'il crache il est perdu,_" "You know something of poor Mrs. Bradfort, I believe?"

I a.s.sented by a bow.

"It was just as we told you," cried Sarah, taking her revenge. "The poor woman is dead! and, no doubt, of that cancer. What a frightful disease!

and how accurate has our information been, in all that affair!"

"I think her will the most extraordinary of all," added Mr. Brigham, who, as a man, kept an eye more to the main chance. "I suppose you have heard all about her will, Captain Wallingford?"

I reminded the gentleman that this was the first I had ever heard of the lady's death.

"She has left every dollar to young Mr. Hardinge, her cousin's son;"

added Jane, "cutting off that handsome, genteel, young lady his sister, as well as her father, without a cent"--in 1803, they just began to speak of _cents_, instead of farthings--"and everybody says it was so cruel!"

"That is not the worst of it," put in Sarah. "They _do_ say, Miss Merton, the English lady that made so much noise in New York--let me see, Mr. Brigham, what Earl's grand-daughter did we hear she was?--"

This was a most injudicious question, as it gave the husband an opportunity to take the word out of her mouth.

"Lord c.u.mberland's, I believe, or some such person---but, no matter whose. It is quite certain, General Merton, her father, consents to let her marry young Mr. Hardinge, now Mrs. Bradfort's will is known; and, as for the sister, he declares he will never give her a dollar."

"He will have sixteen thousand dollars a year," said Jane, with emphasis.

"Six, my dear, six"--returned the brother, who had reasonably accurate notions touching dollars and cents, or he never would have been travelling in Italy; "six thousand dollars a year, was just Mrs.

Bradfort's income, as my old school-fellow Upham told me, and there isn't another man in York, who can tell fortunes as true as himself. He makes a business of it, and don't fail one time in twenty."

"And is it quite certain that Mr. Rupert Hardinge gets all the fortune of Mrs. Bradfort?" I asked, with a strong effort to seem composed.

"Not the least doubt of it, in the world. Everybody is talking about it; and there cannot well be a mistake, you know, as it was thought the sister would be an heiress, and people generally take care to be pretty certain about that cla.s.s. But, of course, a young man with that fortune will be snapped up, as a swallow catches a fly. I've bet Sarah a pair of gloves we hear of his marriage in three months."

The Brighams talked an hour longer, and made me promise to visit them at their hotel, a place I could not succeed in finding. That evening, I left Florence for Leghorn, writing a note of apology, in order not to be rude. Of course, I did not believe half these people had told me; but a part, I made no doubt, was true. Mrs. Bradfort was dead, out of all question; and I thought it possible she might not so far have learned to distinguish between the merit of Lucy, and that of Rupert, to leave her entire fortune to the last. As for the declaration of the brother that he would give his sister nothing, that seemed to me to be rather strong for even Rupert. I knew the dear girl too well, and was certain she would not repine; and I was burning with the desire to be in the field, now she was again penniless.

What a change was this! Here were the Hardinges, those whom I had known as poor almost as dependants on my own family, suddenly enriched. I knew Mrs. Bradfort had a large six thousand a year, besides her own dwelling-house, which stood in Wall Street, a part of the commercial emporium that was just beginning to be the focus of banking, and all other monied operations, and which even then promised to become a fortune of itself. It is true, that old Daniel M'Cormick still held his levees on his venerable stoop, where all the heavy men in town used to congregate, and joke, and buy and sell, and abuse Boney; and that the Winthrops, the Wilkeses, the Jaunceys, the Verplancks, the Whites, the Ludlows, and other families of mark, then had their town residences in this well-known street; but coming events were beginning "to cast their shadows before," and it was easy to foresee that this single dwelling might at least double Rupert's income, under the rapid increase of the country and the town. Though Lucy was still poor, Rupert was now rich.

If family connection, that all-important and magical influence, could make so broad a distinction between us, while I was comparatively wealthy, and Lucy had nothing, what, to regard the worst side of the picture, might I not expect from it, when the golden scale preponderated on her side. That Andrew Drewett would still marry her, I began to fear again. Well, why not? I had never mentioned love to the sweet girl, fondly, ardently as I was attached to her; and what reason had I for supposing that one in her situation could reserve her affections for a truant sailor? I am afraid I was unjust enough to regret that this piece of good fortune should have befallen Rupert. He must do something for his sister, and every dollar seemed to raise a new barrier between us.

From that hour, I was all impatience to get home. Had not the freight been engaged, I think I should have sailed in ballast. By urging the merchants, however, we got to sea May 15th, with a full cargo, a portion of which I had purchased on my own account, with the money earned by the s.h.i.+p, within the last ten months. Nothing occurred worthy of notice, until the Dawn neared the Straits of Gibraltar. Here we were boarded by an English frigate, and first learned the declaration of a new war between France and England; a contest that, in the end, involved in it all the rest of christendom. Hostilities had already commenced, the First Consul having thrown aside the mask, just three days after we left port. The frigate treated us well, it being too soon for the abuses that followed, and we got through the pa.s.s without further molestation.

As soon as in the Atlantic, I took care to avoid everything we saw, and nothing got near us, until we had actually made the Highlands of Navesink. An English sloop-of-war, however, had stood into the angles of the coast, formed by Long Island and the Jersey sh.o.r.e, giving us a race for the Hook. I did not know whether I ought to be afraid of this cruiser, or not, but my mind was made up, not to be boarded if it could be helped. We succeeded in pa.s.sing ahead, and entered the Hook, while he was still a mile outside of the bar. I got a pilot on the bar, as was then very usual, and stood up towards the town with studding-sails set, it being just a twelvemoth, almost to an hour, from the day when I pa.s.sed up the bay in the Crisis. The pilot took the s.h.i.+p in near Coenties slip, Marble's favourite berth, and we had her secured, and her sails unbent before the sun set.

CHAPTER XXVII.

"With look like patient Job's, eschewing evil; With motions graceful as a bird's in air; Thou art, in sober truth, the veriest devil That ere clinched fingers in a captive's hair."

HALLECK.

There was about an hour of daylight, when I left the compting-house of the consignees, and pursued my way up Wall Street to Broadway. I was on my way to the City Hotel, then, as now, one of the best inns of the town. On Trinity Church walk, just as I quitted the Wall Street crossing, whom should I come plump upon in turning, but Rupert Hardinge?

He was walking down the street in some little haste, and was evidently much surprised, perhaps I might say startled, at seeing me.

Nevertheless, Rupert was not easily disconcerted, and his manner at once became warm, if not entirely free from embarra.s.sment. He was in deep mourning; though otherwise dressed in the height of the fas.h.i.+on.

"Wallingford!" he exclaimed--it was the first time he did not call me "Miles,"--"Wallingford! my fine fellow, what cloud did you drop from?--We have had so many reports concerning you, that your appearance is as much a matter of surprise, as would be that of Bonaparte, himself.

Of course, your s.h.i.+p is in?"

"Of course," I answered, taking his offered hand; "you know I am wedded to her, for better, for worse, until death or s.h.i.+pwreck doth us part."

"Ay, so I've always told the ladies--'there is no other matrimony in Wallingford,' I've said often, 'than that which will make him a s.h.i.+p's husband.' But you look confoundedly well--the sea agrees with you, famously."

"I make no complaint of my health--but tell me of that of our friends and families? Your father--"

"Is up at Clawbonny, just now--you know how it is with him. No change of circ.u.mstances will ever make him regard his little smoke-house looking church, as anything but a cathedral, and his parish as a diocese. Since the great change in our circ.u.mstances, all this is useless, and I often _think_--you know one wouldn't like to _say_ as much to _him_--but I often _think_, he might just as well give up preaching, altogether."

"Well, this is good, so far--now for the rest of you, all. You meet my impatience too coldly."

"Yes, you _were_ always an impatient fellow. Why, I suppose you need hardly be told that I have been admitted to the bar."

"That I can very well imagine--you must have found your sea-training of great service on the examination."

"Ah! my dear Wallingford--what a simpleton I was! But one is so apt to take up strange conceits in boyhood, that he is compelled to look back at them in wonder, in after life. But, which way are you walking?"--slipping an arm in mine--"if up, I'll take a short turn with you. There's scarce a soul in town, at this season; but you'll see prodigiously fine girls in Broadway, at this hour, notwithstanding--those that belong to the other sets, you know; those that belong to families that can't get into the country among the leaves. Yes, as I was saying, one scarce knows himself, after twenty.

Now, I can hardly recall a taste, or an inclination, that I cherished in my teens, that has not flown to the winds. Nothing is permanent in boyhood--we grow in our persons, and our minds, sentiments, affections, views, hopes, wishes, and ambition; all take new directions."

"This is not very flattering, Rupert, to one whose acquaintance with you may be said to be altogether boyish."