The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea by James Fenimore Cooper (best ereader under 100 TXT) 📕

or on whatever first offered for a pillow, until Griffith and Barnstable, alone, were left pacing the different sides of the quarter-deck in haughty silence.

Never did a morning watch appear so long to the two young sailors, who were thus deprived, by resentment and pride, of that frank and friendly communion that had for so many years sweetened the tedious hours of their long and at times dreary service. To increase the embarrassment of their situation, Cecilia and Katherine, suffering from the confinement of the small and crowded cabin, sought the purer air of the deck, about the time when the deepest sleep had settled on the senses of the wearied mariners. They stood, leaning against the taffrail, discoursing with each other in low and broken sentences; but a sort of instinctive knowledge of the embarrassment which existed between their lovers caused a guarded control over every look or gesture which might be construed into an encouragement for one of the young men to advance at the expense of the other. Twenty times, however, did the impatient Barnstable feel tempted to throw off the awkward restraint, and approach his mistress; but in each instance was he checked by the secret consciousness of error, as well as by that habitual respect for superior rank that forms a part of the nature of a sea-officer. On the other hand, Griffith manifested no intention to profit by this silent concession in his favor, but continued to pace the short quarter-deck, with strides more hurried than ever; and was seen to throw many an impatient glance towards that quarter of the heavens where the first signs of the lingering day might be expected to appear. At length Katherine, with a ready ingenuity, and perhaps with some secret coquetry, removed the embarrassment by speaking first, taking care to address the lover of her cousin:

“How long are we condemned to these limited lodgings, Mr. Griffith?” she asked; “truly, there is a freedom in your nautical customs, which, to say the least, is novel to us females, who have been accustomed to the division of space!”

“The instant that there is light to discover the frigate, Miss Plowden,” he answered, “you shall be transferred from a vessel of an hundred to one of twelve hundred tons. If your situation there be less comfortable than when within the walls of St. Ruth, you will not forget that they who live on the ocean claim it as a merit to despise the luxuries of the land.”

“At least, sir,” returned Katherine, with a sweet grace, which she well knew how to assume on occasion, “what we shall enjoy will be sweetened by liberty and embellished by a sailor's hospitality. To me, Cicely, the air of this open sea is as fresh and invigorating as if it were wafted from our own distant America!”

“If you have not the arm of a patriot, you at least possess a most loyal imagination, Miss Plowden,” said Griffith, laughing; “this soft breeze blows in the direction of the fens of Holland, instead of the broad plains of America.—Thank God, there come the signs of day, at last! unless the currents have swept the ship far to the north, we shall surely see her with the light.”

This cheering intelligence drew the eyes of the fair cousins towards the east, where their delighted looks were long fastened, while they watched the glories of the sun rising over the water. As the morning had advanced, a deeper gloom was spread across the ocean, and the stars were gleaming in the heavens like balls of twinkling fire. But now a streak of pale light showed itself along the horizon, growing brighter, and widening at each moment, until long fleecy clouds became visible, where nothing had been seen before but the dim base of the arch that overhung the dark waters. This expanding light, which, in appearance, might be compared to a silvery opening in the heavens, was soon tinged with a pale flush, which quickened with sudden transitions into glows yet deeper, until a belt of broad flame bounded the water, diffusing itself more faintly towards the zenith, where it melted into the pearl-colored sky, or played on the fantastic volumes of a few light clouds with inconstant glimmering. While these beautiful transitions were still before the eyes of the youthful admirers of their beauties, a voice was heard above them, crying as if from the heavens:

“Sail-ho! The frigate lies broad off to the seaward, sir!”

“Ay, ay; you have been watching with one eye asleep, fellow,” returned Griffith, “or we should have heard you before! Look a little north of the place where the glare of the sun is coming, Miss Plowden, and you will be able to see our gallant vessel.”

An involuntary cry of pleasure burst from the lips of Katherine, as she followed his directions, and first beheld the frigate through the medium of the fluctuating colors of the morning. The undulating outline of the lazy ocean, which rose and fell heavily against the bright boundary of the heavens, was without any relief to distract the eye as it fed eagerly on the beauties of the solitary ship. She was riding sluggishly on the long seas, with only two of her lower and smaller sails spread, to hold her in command; but her tall masts and heavy yards were painted against the fiery sky in strong lines of deep black, while even the smallest cord in the mazes of her rigging might be distinctly traced, stretching from spar to spar, with the beautiful accuracy of a picture. At moments, when her huge hull rose on a billow and was lifted against the background of the sky, its shape and dimensions were brought into view; but these transient glimpses were soon lost, as it settled into the trough, leaving the waving spars bowing gracefully towards the waters, as if about to follow the vessel into the bosom of the deep. As a clearer light gradually stole on the senses, the delusion of colors and distance vanished together, and when a flood of day preceded the immediate appearance of the sun, the ship became plainly visible within a mile of the cutter, her black hull checkered with ports, and her high, tapering masts exhibiting their proper proportions and hues.

At the first cry of “A sail!” the crew of the Alacrity had been aroused from their slumbers by the shrill whistle of the boatswain, and long before the admiring looks of the two cousins had ceased to dwell on the fascinating sight of morning chasing night from the hemisphere, the cutter was again in motion to join her consort. It seemed but a moment before their little vessel was in, what the timid females thought, a dangerous proximity to the frigate, under whose lee she slowly passed, in order to admit of the following dialogue between Griffith and his aged commander:

“I rejoice to see you, Mr. Griffith!” cried the captain, who stood in the channel of his ship, waving his hat in the way of cordial greeting. “You are welcome back, Captain Manual, welcome, welcome, all of you, my boys! as welcome as a breeze in the calm latitudes.” As his eye, however, passed along the deck of the Alacrity, it encountered the shrinking figures of Cecilia and Katherine; and a dark shade of displeasure crossed his decent features, while he added: “How's this, gentlemen? The frigate of Congress is neither a ballroom nor a church, that is to be thronged with women!”

“Ay, ay,” muttered Boltrope to his friend the chaplain, “now the old man has hauled out his mizzen, you'll see him carry a weather-helm! He wakes up about as often as the trades shift their points, and that's once in six months. But when there has been a neap-tide in his temper for any time, you're sure to find it followed by a flood with a vengeance. Let us hear what the first lieutenant can say in favor of his petticoat quality!”