Homeward Bound by James Fenimore Cooper (a court of thorns and roses ebook free txt) 📖
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- Author: James Fenimore Cooper
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"Her captain is in the gangway, taking our measure," observed Mr. Truck: "here is the glass; I wish you to examine his face, and tell me if you think him a man with whom the law of nations will avail anything. See the anchor clear, Mr. Leach, for I'm determined to bring up all standing, if the gentleman intends to renew the old tricks of John Bull on our coast. What do you make of him, Mr. Blunt?"
Paul did not answer, but laying down the glass, he paced the deck rapidly with the manner of one much disturbed. All observed this sudden change, though no one presumed to comment on it. In the mean time the sloop-of-war came up fast, and in a few minutes her larboard fore-yard-arm was within twenty feet of the starboard main-yard-arm of the Montauk, the two vessels running on parallel lines. The corvette now hauled up her fore-course, and let her top-gallant sails settle on the caps, though a dead silence reigned in her.
"Give me the trumpet," said Captain Truck, stepping to the rail; "the gentleman is about to give us a piece of his mind."
The English captain, who was easily known by his two epaulettes, also held a trumpet; but neither of the two commanders used his instrument, the distance being sufficiently near for the natural voice,
"I believe, sir," commenced the man-of-war's-man, "that I have the pleasure to see Captain Truck, of the Montauk, London packet?"
"Ay, ay; I'll warrant you he has my name alongside of John Doe and Richard Roe," muttered Mr. Truck, "spell as carefully as it could be in a primer.--I am Captain Truck, and this is the Montauk. May I ask the name of your vessel, and your own, sir?"
"This is his Britannic Majesty's ship, the Foam, Captain Ducie."
"The Honourable Captain Ducie!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "I thought I recognised the voice: I know him intimately well."
"Will he stand Vattel?" anxiously demanded Mr. Truck.
"Nay, as for that, I must refer you to himself."
"You appear to have suffered in the gale," resumed Captain Ducie, whose smile was very visible, as he thus addressed them like an old acquaintance. "We fared better ourselves, for I believe we did not part a ropeyarn."
"The ship pitched every stick out of her," returned Captain Truck, "and has given us the trouble of a new outfit."
"In which you appear to have succeeded admirably. Your spars and sails are a size or two too small; but every thing stands like a church."
"Ay, ay, now we have got on our new clothes, we are not ashamed to be seen."
"May I ask if you have been in port to do all this?"
"No, sir; picked them up along-shore."
The Honourable Captain Ducie thought he was quizzed, and his manner became a little more cold, though it still retained its gentlemanlike tone.
"I wish much to see you in private, sir, on an affair of some magnitude, and I greatly regret it was not in my power to speak you the night you left Portsmouth. I am quite aware you are in your own waters, and I feel a strong reluctance to retain your passengers when so near their port; but I shall feel it as a particular favour if you will permit me to repair on board for a few minutes."
"With all my heart," cried Captain Truck: "if you will give me room, I will back my main-topsail, but I wish to lay my head off shore. This gentleman understands Vattel, and we shall have no trouble with him. Keep the anchor clear Mr. Leach, for 'fair words butter no parsnips.' Still, he is a gentleman;--and, Saunders, put a bottle of the old Madeira on the cabin table."
Captain Ducie now left the rigging in which he had stood, and the corvette luffed off to the eastward, to give room to the packet, where she hove-to with her fore-topsail aback. The Montauk followed, taking a position under her lee. A quarter-boat was lowered, and in five minutes its oars were tossed at the packet's lee-gangway, when the commander of the corvette ascended the ship's side, followed by a middle-aged man in the dress of a civilian, and a chubby-faced midshipman.
No one could mistake Captain Ducie for anything but a gentleman. He was handsome, well-formed, and about five-and-twenty. The bow he made to Eve, with whose beauty and air he seemed instantly struck, would have become a drawing-room; but he was too much of an officer to permit any further attention to escape him until he had paid his respects to, and received the compliments of, Captain Truck. He then turned to the ladies and Mr. Effingham, and repeated his salutations.
"I fear," he said, "my duty has made me the unwilling instrument of prolonging your passage, for I believe few ladies love the ocean sufficiently, easily to forgive those who lengthen its disagreeables."
"We are old travellers, and know how to allow for the obligations of duty," Mr. Effingham civilly answered.
"That they do, sir," put in Captain Truck; "and it was never my good fortune to have a more agreeable set of passengers. Mr. Effingham, the Honourable Captain Ducie;--the Honourable Captain Ducie, Mr. Effingham;--Mr. John Effingham, Mam'selle V.A.V." endeavouring always to imitate Eve's pronunciation of the name;--"Mr. Dodge, the Honourable Captain Ducie; the Honourable Captain Ducie, Mr. Dodge."
The Honourable Captain Ducie and all the others, the editor of the Active Inquirer excepted, smiled slightly, though they respectively bowed and curtseyed; but Mr. Dodge, who conceived himself entitled to be formally introduced to every one he met, and to know all he saw, whether introduced or not, stepped forward promptly, and shook Mr. Ducie very cordially by the hand.
Captain Truck now turned in quest of some one else to introduce; Mr. Sharp stood near the capstan, and Paul had retired as far aft as the hurricane-house.
"I am happy to see you in the Montauk," added Captain Truck, insensibly leading the other towards the capstan, "and am sorry I had not the satisfaction of meeting you in England. The Honourable Captain Ducie, Mr. Sharp, Mr. Sharp, the Honourable Captain--"
"George Templemore!" exclaimed the commander of the corvette, looking from one to the other.
"Charles Ducie!" exclaimed the soi-disant Mr. Sharp.
"Here then is an end of part of my hopes, and we have been on a wrong scent the whole time."
"Perhaps not, Ducie: explain yourself."
"You must have perceived my endeavours to speak you, from the moment you sailed?"
"To speak us!" cried Captain Truck. "Yes, sir, we did observe your endeavours to speak us."
"It was because I was given to understand that one calling himself Sir George Templemore, an impostor, however, had taken passage in this ship; and here I find that we have been misled, by the real Sir George Templemore's having chosen to come this way instead of coming by the Liverpool ship. So much for your confounded fashionable caprices, Templemore, which never lets you know in the morning whether you are to shoot yourself or to get married before night."
"And is this gentleman Sir George Templemore?" pithily demanded Captain Truck.
"For that I can vouch, on the knowledge of my whole life."
"And we know this to be true, and have known it since the day we sailed," observed Mr. Effingham.
Captain Truck was accustomed to passengers under false names, but never before had he been so completely mystified.
"And pray, sir," he inquired of the baronet, "are you a member of Parliament?"
"I have that honour."
"And Templemore Hall is your residence, and you have come out to look at the Canadas?"
"I am the owner of Templemore Hall, and hope to look at the Canadas before I return."
"And," turning to Captain Ducie, "you sailed in quest of another Sir George Templemore--a false one?"
"That is a part of my errand," returned Captain Ducie, smiling.
"Nothing else?--you are certain, sir, that this is the whole of your errand?"
"I confess to another motive," rejoined the other, scarce knowing how to take Captain Truck's question; "but this one will suffice for the present, I hope."
"This business requires frankness. I mean nothing disrespectful; but I am in American waters, and should be sorry, after all, to be obliged to throw myself on Vattel."
"Let me act as mediator," interrupted Sir George Templemore. "Some one has been a defaulter, Ducie; is it not so?"
"This is the simple truth; an unfortunate, but silly young man, of the name of Sandon. He was intrusted with a large sum of the public money, and has absconded with quite forty thousand pounds."
"And this person, you fancy, did me the honour to travel under my name?"
"Of that we are certain. Mr. Green here," motioning to the civilian, "comes from the same office, and traced the delinquent, under your name, some distance on the Portsmouth road. When we heard that a Sir George Templemore had actually embarked in the Montauk, the admiral made no scruple in sending me after the packet. This has been an unlucky mistake for me, as it would have been a feather in the cap of so young a commander to catch the rogue."
"You may choose your feather, sir," returned Captain Truck, "for you will have a right to wear it. The unfortunate young man you seek is, out of question, in this ship."
Captain Truck now explained that there was a person below who had been known to him as Sir George Templemore, and who, doubtless, was the unhappy delinquent sought. But Captain Ducie did not betray the attention or satisfaction that one would have expected from this information, his eye being riveted on Paul, who stood beneath the hurricane-house. When the latter saw that he attracted attention he advanced slowly, even reluctantly, upon the quarter-deck. The meeting between these two gentlemen was embarrassed, though each maintained his self-possession.
"Mr. Powis, I believe?" said the officer bowing haughtily
"Captain Ducie, if I am not mistaken?" returned the other, lifting his hat steadily, though his face became flushed.
The manner of the two, however, was but little noticed at the moment, though all heard the words. Captain Truck drew a long "whe--e--e--w!" for this was rather more than even he was accustomed to, in the way of masquerades. His eye was on the two gentlemen as they walked aft together, and alone, when he felt a touch upon his arm. It was the little hand of Eve, between whom and the old seaman there existed a good deal of trifling, blended with the most entire good-will. The young lady laughed with her sweet eyes, shook her fair curls, and said mockingly,
"Mr. Sharp, Mr. Blunt; Mr. Blunt, Mr. Sharp!"
"And were you in the secret all this time, my dear young lady?"
"Every minute of it; from the buoys of Portsmouth to this very spot."
"I shall be obliged to introduce my passengers all over again!"
"Certainly; and I would recommend that each should show a certificate of baptism, or a passport, before you announce his or her name."
" You are, at least, the beautiful Miss Effingham, my dear young lady?"
"I'll not vouch for that, even," said Eve, blushing and laughing.
"That is Mr. John Effingham, I hope!"
"For that I can vouch. There are not two
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