The Red Rover: A Tale

Chapter XXXII. Chapter XXXII. “This is he; Who hath upon him still that natural stamp: It was wise Nature’s end in the donation, To be his evidence now.” Shakespeare. That morrow came; and, with it, an entire change, in the scene and character of our tale. The “Dolphin” and the “Dart” were sailing in amity, side by side; the latter again bearing the ensign of England, and the former carrying a naked gaff. The injuries of the gust, and the combat, had so far been repaired, that, to a common eye, each gallant vessel was again prepared, equally to encounter the hazards of the ocean or of warfare. A long, blue, hazy streak, to the north, proclaimed the proximity of the land; and some three or four light coasters of that region, which were sailing nigh, announced how little of hostility existed in the present purposes of the freebooters. What those designs were, however, still remained a secret, buried in the bosom of the Rover alone. Doubt, wonder, and distrust were, each in its turn, to be traced, not only in the features of his captives, but in those of his own crew. Throughout the whole of the long night, which had succeeded the events of the important day just past, he had been seen to pace the poop in brooding silence. The little he had uttered was merely to direct the movements of the vessel; and when any ventured, with other design, to approach his person, a sign, that none there dared to disregard, secured him the solitude he wished. Once or twice, indeed, the boy Roderick was seen hovering at his elbow, but it was as a guardian spirit would be fancied to linger near the object of its care, unobtrusively, and, it might almost be added, invisible. When, however, the sun came burnished and glorious, out of the waters of the east a gun was fired, to bring a coaster to the side of the “Dolphin;” and then it seemed that the curtain was to be raised on the closing scene of the drama. With his crew assembled on the deck beneath, and the principal personages among his captives beside him on the poop, the Rover addressed the former. “Years have united us by a common fortune,” he said: “We have long been submissive to the same laws. If I have been prompt to punish, I have been ready to obey. You cannot charge me with injustice. But the covenant is now ended. I take back my pledge, and I return you your faiths. Nay, frown not—hesitate not—murmur not! The compact ceases and our laws are ended. Such were the conditions of the service. I give you your liberty, and little do I claim in return. That you need have no grounds of reproach, I bestow my treasure. See,” he added, raising that bloody ensign with which he had so often braved the power of the nations, and exhibiting beneath it sacks of that metal which has so long governed the world; “see! This was mine; it is now yours. It shall be put in yonder coaster: there I leave you, to bestow it, yourselves, on those you may deem most worthy. Go; the land is near. Disperse, for your own sakes: Nor hesitate; for, without me, well do ye know that vessel of the King would be your master. The ship is already mine, of all the rest, I claim these prisoners alone for my portion. Farewell!” Silent amazement succeeded this unlooked-for address. There was, indeed, for a moment, some disposition to rebel; but the measures of the Rover had been too well taken for resistance. The “Dart” lay on their beam, with her people at their guns, matches lighted, and a heavy battery. Unprepared, without a leader, and surprised, opposition would have been madness. The first astonishment had scarce abated, before each freebooter rushed to secure his individual effects, and to transfer them to the deck of the coaster. When all but the crew of a single boat had left the “Dolphin,” the promised gold was sent, and then the loaded craft was seen hastily seeking the shelter of some secret creek. During this scene, the Rover had again been silent as death. He next turned to Wilder; and, making a mighty but successful effort to still his feelings, he added,— “Now must we, too, part. I commend my wounded to your care. They are necessarily with your surgeons. I know the trust I give you will not be abused.” “My word is the pledge of their safety,” returned the young de Lacey. “I believe you.—Lady,” he added, approaching the elder of the females, with an air in which earnestness and hesitation strongly contended, “if a proscribed and guilty man may still address you, grant yet a favour.” “Name it; a mother’s ear can never be deaf to him who has spared her child.” “When you petition Heaven for that child, then forget not there is another being who may still profit by your prayers!—No more.—And now,” he continued looking about him like one who was determined to be equal to the pang of the moment, however difficult it might prove, and surveying, with an eye of painful regret, those naked decks which were so lately teeming with scenes of life and revelry; “and now—ay—now we part! The boat awaits you.” Wilder had soon seen his mother and Gertrude into the pinnace; but he still lingered on the deck himself. “And you!” he said, “what will become of you?” “I shall shortly be—forgotten.—Adieu!” The manner in which the Rover spoke forbade delay. The young man hesitated, squeezed his hand, and left him. When Wilder found himself restored to his proper vessel, of which the death of Bignall had left him in command, he immediately issued the order to fill her sails, and to steer for the nearest haven of his country. So long as sight could read the movements of the man who remained on the decks of the “Dolphin” not a look was averted from the still motionless object. She lay, with her maintop-sail to the mast, stationary as some beautiful fabric placed there by fairy power, still lovely in her proportions, and perfect in all her parts. A human form was seen swiftly pacing her poop, and, by its side, glided one who looked like a lessened shadow of that restless figure. At length distance swallowed these indistinct images; and then the eye was wearied, in vain, to trace the internal movements of the distant ship But doubt was soon ended. Suddenly a streak of flame flashed from her decks, springing fiercely from sail to sail. A vast cloud of smoke broke out of the hull, and then came the deadened roar of artillery. To this succeeded, for a time, the awful, and yet attractive spectacle of a burning ship. The whole was terminated by an immense canopy of smoke, and an explosion that caused the sails of the distant “Dart” to waver, as though the winds of the trades were deserting their eternal direction. When the cloud had lifted from the ocean, an empty waste of water was seen beneath; and none might mark the spot where so lately had floated that beautiful specimen of human ingenuity. Some of those who ascended to the upper masts of the cruiser, and were aided by glasses, believed, indeed, they could discern a solitary speck upon the sea; but whether it was a boat, or some fragment of the wreck, was never known. From that time, the history of the dreaded Red Rover became gradually lost, in the fresher incidents of those eventful seas. But the mariner, long after was known to shorten the watches of the night, by recounting scenes of mad enterprise that were thought to have occurred under his auspices. Rumour did not fail to embellish and pervert them, until the real character, and even name, of the individual were confounded with the actors of other atrocities. Scenes of higher and more ennobling interest, too, were occurring on the Western Continent, to efface the circumstances of a legend that many deemed wild and improbable. The British colonies of North America had revolted against the government of the Crown, and a weary war was bringing the contest to a successful issue. Newport, the opening scene of this tale, had been successively occupied by the arms of the King, and by those of that monarch who had sent the chivalry of his nation to aid in stripping his rival of her vast possessions. The beautiful haven had sheltered hostile fleets, and the peaceful villas had often rung with the merriment of youthful soldiers. More than twenty years, after the events just related, had been added to the long record of time, when the island town witnessed the rejoicings of another festival. The allied forces had compelled the most enterprising leader of the British troops to yield himself and army captives to their numbers and skill. The struggle was believed to be over, and the worthy townsmen had, as usual, been loud in the manifestations of their pleasure. The rejoicings, however, ceased with the day; and as night gathered over the place, the little city was resuming its customary provincial tranquillity. A gallant frigate, which lay in the very spot where the vessel of the Rover has first been seen, had already lowered the gay assemblage of friendly ensigns, which had been spread in the usual order of a gala day. A flag of intermingled colours, and bearing a constellation of bright and rising stars, alone was floating at her gaff. Just at this moment, another cruiser, but one of far less magnitude, was seen entering the roadstead, bearing also the friendly ensign of the new States. Headed by the tide, and deserted by the breeze, she soon dropped an anchor, in the pass between Connanicut and Rhodes, when a boat was seen making for the inner harbour, impelled by the arms of six powerful rowers. As the barge approached a retired and lonely wharf, a solitary observer of its movements was enabled to see that it contained a curtained litter, and a single female form. Before the curiosity which such a sight would be apt to create, in the breast of one like the spectator mentioned, had time to exercise itself in conjectures, the oars were tossed, the boat had touched the piles, and, borne by the seamen, the litter, attended by the woman, stood before him. “Tell me, I pray you,” said a voice, in whose tones grief and resignation were singularly combined, “if Captain Henry de Lacey, of the continental marine, has a residence in this town of Newport?” “That has he,” answered the aged man addressed by the female; “that has he; or, as one might say, two; since yonder frigate is no less his than the dwelling on the hill, just by.” “Thou art too old to point us out the way; but, if grandchild, or idler of any sort, be near, here is silver to reward him.” “Lord help you, Lady!” returned the other, casting an oblique glance at her appearance, as a sort of salvo for the term, and pocketing the trifling piece she offered, with singular care; “Lord help you, Madam! old though I am, and something worn down by hardships and marvellous adventures, both by sea land, yet will I gladly do so small an office for one of your condition. Follow, and you shall see that your pilot is not altogether unused to the path.” The old man turned, and was leading the way off the wharf, even before he had completed the assurance of his boasted ability. The seamen and the female followed; the latter walking sorrowfully and in silence by the side of the litter. “If you have need of refreshment,” said their guide, pointing over his shoulder, “yonder is a well known inn, and one much frequented in its time by mariners. Neighbour Joram and the ‘Foul Anchor’ have had a reputation in their day, as well as the greatest warrior in the land; and, though honest Joe is gathered-in for the general harvest, the house stands as firm as the day he first entered it. A goodly end he made, and profitable is it to the weak-minded sinner to keep such an example before his eyes!” A low, smothered sound issued from the litter but, though the guide stopped to listen, it was succeeded by no other evidence of the character of its tenant. “The sick man is in suffering,” he resumed; “but bodily pain, and all afflictions which we suffer in the flesh, must have their allotted time. I have lived to see seven bloody and cruel wars, of which this, which now rages, is, I humbly trust, to be the last. Of the wonders which I witnessed, and the bodily dangers which I compassed, in the sixth, eye hath never beheld, nor can tongue utter, their equal!” “Time hath dealt hardly by you, friend,” meekly interrupted the female. “This gold may add a few more comfortable days to those that are already past.” The cripple, for their conductor was lame as well as aged, received the offering with gratitude, apparently too much occupied in estimating its amount, to give any more of his immediate attention to the discourse. In the deep silence that succeeded, the party reached the door of the villa they sought. It was now night; the short twilight of the season having disappeared, while the bearers of the litter had been ascending the hill. A loud rap was given on the door by the guide; and then he was told that his services were no longer needed. “I have seen much and hard service,” he replied, “and well do I know that the prudent manner does not dismiss the pilot, until the ship is safely moored. Perhaps old Madam de Lacey is abroad, or the Captain himself may not”—— “Enough; here is one who will answer all our questions.” The portal was now, in truth, opened; and a man appeared on its threshold, holding a light. The appearance of the porter was not, however, of the most encouraging aspect. A certain air, which can neither be assumed nor gotten rid of, proclaimed him a son of the ocean, while a wooden limb, which served to prop a portion of his still square and athletic body, sufficiently proved he was one who had not attained the experience of his hardy calling without some bodily risk. His countenance, as he held the light above his head, in order to scan the persons of the groupe without, was dogmatic, scowling, and a little fierce. He was not long, however, in recognizing the cripple, of whom he unceremoniously demanded the object of what he was pleased to term “such a night squall.” “Here is a wounded mariner,” returned the female with tones so tremulous that they instantly softened the heart of the nautical Cerberus, “who is come to claim hospitality of a brother in the service; and shelter for the night. We would speak with Captain Henry de Lacey.” “Then you have struck soundings on the right coast, Madam,” returned the tar, “as master Paul here, will say in the name of his father, no less than in that of the sweet lady his mother; not forgetting old madam his grandam, who is no fresh-water fish herself, for that matter.” “That he will,” said a fine, manly youth of some seventeen years, who wore the attire of one who was already in training for the seas, and who was looking curiously over the shoulder of the elderly seaman. “I will acquaint my father of the visit, and, Richard—do you seek out a proper birth for our guests, without delay.” This order, which was given with the air of one who had been accustomed to act for himself, and to speak with authority, was instantly obeyed. The apartment, selected by Richard, was the ordinary parlour of the dwelling. Here, in a few moments, the litter was deposited; the bearers were then dismissed and the female only was left, with its tenant and the rude attendant, who had not hesitated to give them so frank a reception. The latter busied himself in trimming the lights, and in replenishing a bright wood fire; taking care, at the same time, that no unnecessary vacuum should occur in the discourse, to render the brief interval, necessary for the appearance of his superiors, tedious. During this state of things an inner door was opened, the youth already named leading the way for the three principal personages of the mansion. First came a middle-aged, athletic man, in the naval undress of a Captain of the new States. His look was calm, and his step was still firm, though time and exposure were beginning to sprinkle his head with gray. He wore one arm in a sling, a proof that his service was still recent; on the other leaned a lady, in whose matronly mien, but still blooming cheek and bright eyes, were to be traced most of the ripened beauties of her sex. Behind them followed a third, a female also, whose step was less elastic but whose person continued to exhibit the evidences of a peaceful evening to the troubled day of life. The three courteously saluted the stranger, delicately refraining from making any precipitate allusion to the motive of her visit. Their reserve seemed necessary; for, by the agitation which shook the shattered frame of one who appeared as much sinking with grief as infirmity, it was too apparent that the unknown lady needed a little time to collect her energies and to arrange her thoughts. She wept long and bitterly, as though alone; nor did she essay to speak until further silence would have become suspicious. Then, drying her eyes, and with cheeks on which a bright, hectic spot was seated, her voice was heard for the first time by her wondering hosts. “You may deem this visit an intrusion,” she said; “but one, whose will is my law, would be brought hither.” “Wherefore?” asked the officer, with mildness, observing that her voice was already choaked. “To die!” was the whispered, husky answer. A common start manifested the surprise of her auditors; and then the gentleman arose, and approaching the litter, he gently drew aside a curtain, exposing its hitherto unseen tenant to the examination of all in the room. There was understanding in the look that met his gaze, though death was but too plainly stamped on the pallid lineaments of the wounded man. His eye alone seemed still to belong to earth; for, while all around it appeared already to be sunk into the helplessness of the last stage of human debility that was still bright, intelligent, and glowing—might almost have been described as glaring. “Is there aught in which we can contribute to your comfort, or to your wishes?” asked Captain de Lacey, after a long and solemn pause, during which all around the litter had mournfully contemplated the sad spectacle of sinking mortality. The smile of the dying man was ghastly, though tenderness and sorrow were singularly and fearfully combined in its expression. He answered not; but his eyes had wandered from face to face, until they became riveted, by a species of charm, on the countenance of the oldest of the two females. His gaze was met by a look as settled as his own; and so evident was the powerful sympathy which existed between the two, that it could not escape the observation of the spectators. “Mother!” said the officer, with affectionate concern; “my mother! what troubles you?” “Henry—Gertrude,” answered the venerable parent extending her arms to her offspring, as if she asked support; “my children, your doors have been opened to one who has a claim to enter them. Oh! it is in these terrible moments, when passion is asleep and our weakness is most apparent, in these moments of debility and disease, that nature so strongly manifests its impression! I see it all in that fading countenance, in those sunken features, where so little is left but the last lingering look of family and kindred!” “Kindred!” exclaimed Captain de Lacey: “Of what affinity is our guest?” “A brother!” answered the lady, dropping her head on her bosom, as though she had proclaimed a degree of consanguinity which gave pain no less than pleasure. The stranger, too much overcome himself to speak, made a joyful gesture of assent, but never averted a gaze that seemed destined to maintain its direction so long as life should lend it intelligence. “A brother!” repeated her son, in unfeigned astonishment. “I knew you had a brother: but I had thought him dead a boy.” “’Twas so I long believed, myself; though frightful glimpses of the contrary have often beset me; but now the truth is too plain, in that fading visage and those fallen features, to be misunderstood. Poverty and misfortune divided us. I suppose we thought each other dead.” Another feeble gesture proclaimed the assent of the wounded man. “There is no further mystery. Henry, the stranger is thy uncle—my brother—once my pupil!” “I could wish to see him under happier circumstances,” returned the officer, with a seaman’s frankness; “but, as a kinsman, he is welcome. Poverty, at least, shall no longer divide you.” “Look, Henry—Gertrude!” added the mother, veiling her own eyes as she spoke, “that face is no stranger to you. See ye not the sad ruins of one ye both fear and love?” Wonder kept her children mute, though both looked until sight became confused, so long and intense was their examination. Then a hollow sound, which came from the chest of the stranger, caused them both to start; and, as his low, but distinct enunciation rose on their ears, doubt and perplexity vanished. “Wilder,” he said, with an effort in which his utmost strength appeared exerted, “I have come to ask the last office at your hands.” “Captain Heidegger!” exclaimed the officer. “The Red Rover!” murmured the younger Mrs. de Lacey, involuntarily recoiling a pace from the litter in alarm. “The Red Rover!” repeated her son, pressing nigher with ungovernable curiosity. “Laid by the heels at last!” bluntly observed Fid stumping up towards the groupe, without relinquishing the tongs, which he had kept in constant use, as an apology for remaining in the presence. “I had long hid my repentance, and my shame, together,” continued the dying man, when the momentary surprise had a little abated; “but this war drew me from my concealment. Our country needed us both, and both has she had! You have served as one who never offended might serve; but a cause so holy was not to be tarnished by a name like mine. May the little I have done for good be remembered when the world speaks of the evil of my hands! Sister—mother—pardon!” “May that God, who forms his creatures with such fearful natures, look mercifully on all our weaknesses!” exclaimed the weeping Mrs de Lacey, bowing to her knees, and lifting her hands and eyes to heaven “O brother, brother! you have been trained in the holy mystery of your redemption, and need not now be told on what Rock to place your hopes of pardon!” “Had I never forgotten those precepts, my name would still be known with honour. But, Wilder!” he added with startling energy, “Wilder!—” All eyes were bent eagerly on the speaker. His hand was holding a roll on which he had been reposing as on a pillow. With a supernatural effort, his form arose on the litter; and, with both hands elevated above his head, he let fall before him that blazonry of intermingled stripes, with its blue field of rising stars, a glow of high exultation illumining each feature of his face, as in his former day of pride. “Wilder!” he repeated, laughing hysterically, “we have triumphed!”—Then he fell backward, without motion, the exulting lineaments settling in the gloom of death, as shadows obscure the smiling brightness of the sun. The End. *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RED ROVER: A TALE *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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