Part 12 (1/2)
”A set of precious rascals they are, Gervaise!” at length the rear-admiral exclaimed. ”If the whole court was culled, I question if enough honesty could be found to leaven one puritan scoundrel. Tell me if you know this hand, Oakes? I question if you ever saw it before.”
The superscription of the letter was held out to Sir Gervaise, who, after a close examination, declared himself unacquainted with the writing.
”I thought as much,” resumed Bluewater, carefully tearing the signature from the bottom of the page, and burning it in a candle; ”let this disgraceful part of the secret die, at least. The fellow who wrote this, has put 'confidential' at the top of his miserable scrawl: and a most confident scoundrel he is, for his pains. However, no man has a right to thrust himself, in this rude manner, between me and my oldest friend; and least of all will I consent to keep this piece of treachery from your knowledge. I do more than the rascal merits in concealing his name; nevertheless, I shall not deny myself the pleasure of sending him such an answer as he deserves. Read that, Oakes, and then say if keelhauling would be too good for the writer.”
Sir Gervaise took the letter in silence, though not without great surprise, and began to peruse it. As he proceeded, the colour mounted to his temples, and once he dropped his hand, to cast a look of wonder and indignation towards his companion. That the reader may see how much occasion there was for both these feelings, we shall give the communication entire. It was couched in the following words:
”DEAR ADMIRAL BLUEWATER:
”Our ancient friends.h.i.+p, and I am proud to add, affinity of blood, unite in inducing me to write a line, at this interesting moment.
Of the result of this rash experiment of the Pretender's son, no prudent man can entertain a doubt. Still, the boy may give us some trouble, before he is disposed of altogether. We look to all our friends, therefore, for their most efficient exertions, and most prudent co-operation. On _you_, every reliance is placed; and I wish I could say as much for _every flag-officer afloat_. Some distrust--unmerited, I sincerely hope--exists in a very high quarter, touching the loyalty of a certain commander-in-chief, who is so completely under your observation, that it is felt enough is done in hinting the fact to one of your political tendencies. The king said, this morning, 'Vell, dere isht Bluevater; of _him_ we are shure asht of ter sun.' You stand excellently well _there_, to my great delight; and I need only say, be watchful and prompt.
”Yours, with the most sincere faith and attachment, my dear Bluewater, &c., &c.
”REAR-ADMIRAL BLUEWATER.
”P. S.--I have just heard that they have sent you the red riband.
The king himself, was in this.”
When Sir Gervaise had perused this precious epistle to himself, he read it slowly, and in a steady, clear voice, aloud. When he had ended, he dropped the paper, and stood gazing at his friend.
”One would think the fellow some exquisite satirist,” said Bluewater, laughing. ”_I_ am to be vigilant, and see that _you_ do not mutiny, and run away with the fleet to the Highlands, one of these foggy mornings!
Carry it up into Scotland, as Galleygo has it! Now, what is your opinion of that letter?”
”That all courtiers are knaves, and all princes ungrateful. I should think my loyalty to the good _cause_, if not to the _man_, the last in England to be suspected.”
”Nor is it suspected, in the smallest degree. My life on it, neither the reigning monarch, nor his confidential servants, are such arrant dunces, as to be guilty of so much weakness. No, this masterly move is intended to secure _me_, by creating a confidence that they think no generous-minded man would betray. It is a hook, delicately baited to catch a gudgeon, and not an order to watch a whale.”
”Can the scoundrels be so mean--nay, dare they be so bold! They must have known you would show me the letter.”
”Not they--they have reasoned on my course, as they would on their own.
Nothing catches a weak man sooner than a pretended confidence of this nature; and I dare say this blackguard rates me just high enough to fancy I may be duped in this flimsy manner. Put your mind at rest; King George knows he may confide in _you_, while I think it probable _I_ am distrusted.”
”I hope, d.i.c.k, you do not suspect _my_ discretion! My own secret would not be half so sacred to me.”
”I know that, full well. Of _you_, I entertain no distrust, either in heart or head; of myself, I am not quite so certain. When we _feel_, we do not always _reason_; and there is as much feeling, as any thing else, in this matter.”
”Not a line is there, in all my despatches, that go to betray the slightest distrust of me, or any one else. You are spoken of, but it is in a manner to gratify you, rather than to alarm. Take, and read them all; I intended to show them to you, as soon as we had got through with that cursed discussion”
As Sir Gervaise concluded, he threw the whole package of letters on the table, before his friend.
”It will be time enough, when you summon me regularly to a council of war,” returned Bluewater, laying the letters gently aside. ”Perhaps we had better sleep on this affair; in the morning we shall meet with cooler heads, and just as warm hearts.”
”Good-night, d.i.c.k,” said Sir Gervaise, holding out both hands for the other to shake as he pa.s.sed him, in quitting the room.
”Good-night, Gervaise; let this miserable devil go overboard, and think no more of him. I have half a mind to ask you for a leave, to-morrow, just to run up to London, and cut off his ears.”