Part 11 (2/2)
”Ay, ay; the vessel was the Good Hope of Bristol, a letter of marque.
She had fine luck down on the Spanish main, both with commerce and privateering, but the luck's ended with her now. My name is Clement Cleveland, captain, and part owner, as I said before--I am a Bristol man born--my father was well known on the Tollsell--old Clem Cleveland of the College-green.”
Mordaunt had no right to enquire farther, and yet it seemed to him as if his own mind was but half satisfied. There was an affectation of bluntness, a sort of defiance, in the manner of the stranger, for which circ.u.mstances afforded no occasion. Captain Cleveland had suffered injustice from the islanders, but from Mordaunt he had only received kindness and protection; yet he seemed as if he involved all the neighbourhood in the wrongs he complained of. Mordaunt looked down and was silent, doubting whether it would be better to take his leave, or to proceed farther in his offers of a.s.sistance. Cleveland seemed to guess at his thoughts, for he immediately added, in a conciliating manner,--”I am a plain man, Master Mertoun, for that I understand is your name; and I am a ruined man to boot, and that does not mend one's good manners.
But you have done a kind and friendly part by me, and it may be I think as much of it as if I thanked you more. And so before I leave this place, I'll give you my fowlingpiece; she will put a hundred swan-shot through a Dutchman's cap at eighty paces--she will carry ball too--I have hit a wild bull within a hundred-and-fifty yards--but I have two pieces that are as good, or better, so you may keep this for my sake.”
”That would be to take my share of the wreck,” answered Mordaunt, laughing.
”No such matter,” said Cleveland, undoing a case which contained several guns and pistols,--”you see I have saved my private arm-chest, as well as my clothes--_that_ the tall old woman in the dark rigging managed for me. And, between ourselves, it is worth all I have lost; for,” he added, lowering his voice, and looking round, ”when I speak of being ruined in the hearing of these landsharks, I do not mean ruined stock and block.
No, here is something will do more than shoot sea-fowl.” So saying, he pulled out a great ammunition-pouch marked swan-shot, and showed Mordaunt, hastily, that it was full of Spanish pistoles and Portagues (as the broad Portugal pieces were then called.) ”No, no,” he added, with a smile, ”I have ballast enough to trim the vessel again; and now, will you take the piece?”
”Since you are willing to give it me,” said Mordaunt, laughing, ”with all my heart. I was just going to ask you in my father's name,” he added, showing his purse, ”whether you wanted any of that same ballast.”
”Thanks, but you see I am provided--take my old acquaintance, and may she serve you as well as she has served me; but you will never make so good a voyage with her. You can shoot, I suppose?”
”Tolerably well,” said Mordaunt, admiring the piece, which was a beautiful Spanish-barrelled gun, inlaid with gold, small in the bore, and of unusual length, such as is chiefly used for shooting sea-fowl, and for ball-practice.
”With slugs,” continued the donor, ”never gun shot closer; and with single ball, you may kill a seal two hundred yards at sea from the top of the highest peak of this iron-bound coast of yours. But I tell you again, that the old rattler will never do you the service she has done me.”
”I shall not use her so dexterously, perhaps,” said Mordaunt.
”Umph!--perhaps not,” replied Cleveland; ”but that is not the question.
What say you to shooting the man at the wheel, just as we run aboard of a Spaniard? So the Don was taken aback, and we laid him athwart the hawse, and carried her cutla.s.s in hand; and worth the while she was--stout brigantine--El Santo Francisco--bound for Porto Bello, with gold and negroes. That little bit of lead was worth twenty thousand pistoles.”
”I have shot at no such game as yet,” said Mordaunt.
”Well, all in good time; we cannot weigh till the tide makes. But you are a tight, handsome, active young man. What is to ail you to take a trip after some of this stuff?” laying his hand on the bag of gold.
”My father talks of my travelling soon,” replied Mordaunt, who, born to hold men-of-wars-men in great respect, felt flattered by this invitation from one who appeared a thorough-bred seaman.
”I respect him for the thought,” said the Captain; ”and I will visit him before I weigh anchor. I have a consort off these islands, and be cursed to her. She'll find me out somewhere, though she parted company in the bit of a squall, unless she is gone to Davy Jones too.--Well, she was better found than we, and not so deep loaded--she must have weathered it. We'll have a hammock slung for you aboard, and make a sailor and a man of you in the same trip.”
”I should like it well enough,” said Mordaunt, who eagerly longed to see more of the world than his lonely situation had hitherto permitted; ”but then my father must decide.”
”Your father? pooh!” said Captain Cleveland;--”but you are very right,”
he added, checking himself; ”Gad, I have lived so long at sea, that I cannot imagine any body has a right to think except the captain and the master. But you are very right. I will go up to the old gentleman this instant, and speak to him myself. He lives in that handsome, modern-looking building, I suppose, that I see a quarter of a mile off?”
”In that old half-ruined house,” said Mordaunt, ”he does indeed live; but he will see no visitors.”
”Then you must drive the point yourself, for I can't stay in this lat.i.tude. Since your father is no magistrate, I must go to see this same Magnus--how call you him?--who is not justice of peace, but something else that will do the turn as well. These fellows have got two or three things that I must and will have back--let them keep the rest and be d----d to them. Will you give me a letter to him, just by way of commission?”
”It is scarce needful,” said Mordaunt. ”It is enough that you are s.h.i.+pwrecked, and need his help;--but yet I may as well furnish you with a letter of introduction.”
”There,” said the sailor, producing a writing-case from his chest, ”are your writing-tools.--Meantime, since bulk has been broken, I will nail down the hatches, and make sure of the cargo.”
While Mordaunt, accordingly, was engaged in writing to Magnus Troil a letter, setting forth the circ.u.mstances in which Captain Cleveland had been thrown upon their coast, the Captain, having first selected and laid aside some wearing apparel and necessaries enough to fill a knapsack, took in hand hammer and nails, employed himself in securing the lid of his sea-chest, by fastening it down in a workmanlike manner, and then added the corroborating security of a cord, twisted and knotted with nautical dexterity. ”I leave this in your charge,” he said, ”all except this,” showing the bag of gold, ”and these,” pointing to a cutla.s.s and pistols, ”which may prevent all further risk of my parting company with my Portagues.”
”You will find no occasion for weapons in this country, Captain Cleveland,” replied Mordaunt; ”a child might travel with a purse of gold from Sumburgh-head to the Scaw of Unst, and no soul would injure him.”
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