The Water-Witch by James Fenimore Cooper (management books to read .TXT) 📖
![](/uploads/posts/books/2/8/2/0/7/the-water-witch.jpg)
- Author: James Fenimore Cooper
- Performer: -
Book online «The Water-Witch by James Fenimore Cooper (management books to read .TXT) 📖». Author James Fenimore Cooper
"The Water-Witch!--the Water-Witch!--ahoy!" broke out of the lips of the mariner of the shawl, with a supernatural force,—the last cry being drawn out, till he who uttered it sunk back exhausted with the effort.
The words were still ringing in the ears of the breathless party on the raft, when a heavy shout swept across the water. At the next moment the boom of the brigantine swung off, and her narrow bows were seen pointing towards the little beacon of white that played above the sea. It was but a moment, but it was a moment pregnant with a thousand hopes and fears, before the beautiful craft was gliding within fifty feet of the top. In less than five minutes, the spars of the Coquette were floating on the wide ocean, unpeopled and abandoned.
The first sensation of the 'Skimmer of the Seas,' when his foot touched the deck of his brigantine might have been one of deep and intense gratitude. He was silent, and seemingly oppressed at the throat. Stepping along the planks, he cast an eye aloft, and struck his hand powerfully on the capstan, in a manner that was divided between convulsion and affection. Then he smiled grimly on his attentive and obedient crew, speaking with all his wonted cheerfulness and authority.
"Fill away the top-sail—brace up and haul aft! Trim every thing flat as boards, boys;—jam the hussy in with the coast!"
Winter's Tale.
On the following morning, the windows of the Lust in Rust denoted the presence of its owner. There was an air of melancholy, and yet of happiness, in the faces of many who were seen about the buildings and the grounds, as if a great good had been accompanied by some grave and qualifying circumstances of sorrow. The negroes wore an air of that love of the extraordinary which is the concomitant of ignorance, while those of the more fortunate class resembled men who retained a recollection of serious evils that were past.
In the private apartment of the burgher, however, an interview took place which was characterized by an air of deep concern. The parties were only the free-trader and the Alderman. But it was apparent, in the look of each, that they met like men who had interesting and serious matters to discuss. Still, one accustomed to the expressions of the human countenance might have seen, that while the former was about to introduce topics in which his feelings were powerfully enlisted, the other looked only to the grosser interests of his commerce.
"My minutes are counted;" said the mariner, stepping into the centre of the room, and facing his companion. "That which is to be said, must be said briefly. The inlet can only be passed on the rising water, and it will ill consult your opinions of prudence, were I to tarry, till the hue and cry, that will follow the intelligence of that which has lately happened in the offing, shall be heard in the Province."
"Spoken with a rover's discretion! This reserve will perpetuate friendship, which is nought weakened by your activity in our late uncomfortable voyage on the yards and masts of Queen Anne's late cruiser. Well! I wish no ill-luck to any loyal gentleman in Her Majesty's service; but it is a thousand pities that thou wert not ready, now the coast is clear, with a good heavy inward cargo! The last was altogether an affair of secret drawers, and rich laces; valuable in itself, and profitable in the exchange: but the colony is sadly in want of certain articles that can only be landed at leisure."
"I come on other matters. There have been transactions between us, Alderman Van Beverout, that you little understand."
"You speak of a small mistake in the last invoice?—'Tis all explained, Master Skimmer, on a second examination; and thy accuracy is as well established as that of the bank of England."
"Established or not, let him who doubts cease to deal.—I have no other motto than 'confidence,' nor any other rule but 'justice.'"
"You overrun my meaning, friend of mine. I intimate no suspicions; but accuracy is the soul of commerce, as profit is its object. Clear accounts, with reasonable balances, are the surest cements of business intimacies. A little frankness operates, in a secret trade, like equity in the courts; which reestablishes the justice that the law has destroyed.—What is thy purpose?"
"It is now many years, Alderman Van Beverout, since this secret trade was commenced between you and my predecessor,—he, whom you have thought my father, but who only claimed that revered appellation by protecting the helplessness and infancy of the orphan child of a friend."
"The latter circumstance is new to me;" returned the burgher, slowly bowing his head. "It may explain certain levities which have not been without their embarrassment. 'Tis five-and-twenty years, come August, Master Skimmer, and twelve of them have been under thy auspices. I will not say that the adventures might not have been better managed; as it is, they are tolerable. I am getting old, and think of closing the risks and hazards of life—two or three, or, at the most, four or five, lucky voyages, must, I think, bring a final settlement between us."
"'Twill be made sooner. I believe the history of my predecessor was no secret to you. The manner in which he was driven from the marine of the Stuarts, on account of his opposition to tyranny; his refuge with an only daughter, in the colonies; and his final recourse to the free-trade for a livelihood, have often been alluded to between us."
"Hum—I have a good memory for business, Master Skimmer, but I am as forgetful as a new-made lord of his pedigree, on all matters that should be overlooked. I dare say, however, it was as you have stated."
"You know, that when my protector and predecessor abandoned the land, he took his all with him upon the water."
"He took a wholesome and good-going schooner, Master Skimmer, with an assorted freight of chosen tobacco, well ballasted with stones from off the seashore. He was no foolish admirer of sea-green women, and flaunting brigantines. Often did the royal cruisers mistake the worthy dealer for an industrious fisherman!"
"He had his humors, and I have mine. But you forget a part of the freight he carried;—a part that was not the least valuable."
"There might have been a bale of marten's furs—for the trade was just getting brisk in that article."
"There was a beautiful, an innocent, and an affectionate girl———"
The Alderman made an involuntary movement which nearly hid his countenance from his companion.
"There was, indeed, a beautiful, and, as you say, a most warm-hearted girl, in the concern!" he uttered, in a voice that was subdued and hoarse. "She died, as I have heard from thyself, Master Skimmer, in the Italian seas. I never saw the father, after the last visit of his child to this coast."
"She did die, among the islands of the Mediterranean. But the void she left in the hearts of all who knew her, was filled, in time, by her—daughter."
The Alderman started from his chair, and, looking the free-trader intently and anxiously in the face, he slowly repeated the word—
"Daughter!"
"I have said it.—Eudora is the daughter of that injured woman—need I say, who is the father?"
The burgher groaned, and, covering his face with his hands, he sunk back into his chair, shivering convulsively.
"What evidence have I of this?" he at length muttered—"Eudora is thy sister!"
The answer of the free-trader was accompanied by a melancholy smile.
"You have been deceived. Save the brigantine my being is attached to nothing. When my own brave father fell by the side of him who protected my youth, none of my blood were left. I loved him as a father, and he called me son, while Eudora was passed upon you as the child of a second marriage But here is sufficient evidence of her birth."
The Alderman took a paper, which his companion put gravely into his hand, and his eyes ran eagerly over its contents. It was a letter to himself from the mother of Eudora, written after the birth of the latter, and with the endearing affection of a woman. The love between the young merchant and the fair daughter of his secret correspondent had been less criminal on his part than most similar connexions. Nothing but the peculiarity of their situation, and the real embarrassment of introducing to the world one whose existence was unknown to his friends, and their mutual awe of the unfortunate but still proud parent, had prevented a legal marriage. The simple forms of the colony were easily satisfied, and there was even some reason to raise a question whether they had not been sufficiently consulted to render the offspring legitimate. As Myndert Van Beverout, therefore, read the epistle of her whom he had once so truly loved, and whose loss had, in more senses than one, been to him an irreparable misfortune, since his character might have yielded to her gentle and healthful influence, his limbs trembled, and his whole frame betrayed the violence of extreme agitation. The language of the dying woman was kind and free from reproach, but it was solemn and admonitory. She communicated the birth of their child; but she left it to the disposition of her own father, while she apprized the author of its being of its existence; and, in the event of its ever being consigned to his care, she earnestly recommended it to his love. The close was a leave-taking, in which the lingering affections of this life were placed in mournful contrast to the hopes of the future.
"Why has this so long been hidden from me?" demanded the agitated merchant—"Why, oh reckless and fearless man! have I been permitted to expose the frailties of nature to my own child?"
The smile of the free-trader was bitter, and proud.
"Mr. Van Beverout, we are no dealers of the short voyage. Our trade is the concern of life;—our world, the Water-Witch. As we have so little of the interests of the land, our philosophy is above its weaknesses. The birth of Eudora was concealed from you, at the will of her grandfather. It might have been resentment;—it might have been pride.—Had it been affection, the girl has that to justify the fraud."
"And Eudora, herself?—Does she—or has she long known the truth?"
"But lately. Since the death of our common friend, the girl has been solely dependent on me for counsel and protection. It is now a year since she first learned she was not my sister. Until then, like you, she supposed us equally derived from one who was the parent of neither. Necessity has compelled me, of late, to keep her much in the brigantine."
"The retribution is righteous!" groaned the Alderman, "I am punished for my pusillanimity, in the degradation of my own child!"
The step of the free-trader, as he advanced nearer to his companion, was full of dignity; and his keen eye glowed with the resentment of an offended man.
"Alderman Van Beverout," he said, with stern rebuke in his voice, "you receive your daughter, stainless as was her unfortunate mother, when necessity compelled him whose being was wrapped up in hers, to trust her beneath your roof. We of the contraband have our own opinions, of right and wrong, and my gratitude, no less than my principles, teaches me that the descendant of my benefactor is to be protected, not injured. Had I, in truth, been the brother of Eudora, language and conduct more innocent could not have been shown her, than that she has both heard and witnessed while guarded by my care."
"From my soul, I thank thee!" burst from the lips the Alderman. "The girl shall be acknowledged; and with such a dowry as I can give, she may yet hope for a suitable and honorable marriage."
"Thou may'st bestow her on thy favorite Patroon;" returned the Skimmer, with a calm
Comments (0)