The Pilot: A Tale of the SeaCooper, James Fenimore
History
The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea
Cooper, James Fenimore
Historical fiction; Sea stories; United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Naval operations -- Fiction; War stories
the day, and diligently pushing to and fro the glittering vessel, that
contained a portion of the generous liquor they both loved so well; a
task which each moment rendered lighter.
“If Kit would but return,” exclaimed the veteran, whose back was to the
opening door, “bringing with, him his honest brows encircled, as they
will be or ought to be, with laurel, I should be the happiest old fool,
Borroughcliffe, in his majesty's realm of Great Britain!”
The captain, who felt the necessity for the unnatural restraint he
had imposed on his thirst to be removed by the capture of his enemies,
pointed towards the door with one hand, while he grasped the sparkling
reservoir of the “south side” with the other, and answered:
“Lo! the Cacique himself! his brow inviting the diadem--ha! who have we
in his highness' train? By the Lord, sir Cacique, if you travel with
a body-guard of such grenadiers, old Frederick of Prussia himself will
have occasion to envy you the corps! a clear six-footer in nature's
stockings! and the arms as unique as the armed!”
The colonel did not, however, attend to half of his companion's
exclamations, but turning, he beheld the individual he had so
much desired, and received him with a delight proportioned to the
unexpectedness of the pleasure. For several minutes, Dillon was
compelled to listen to the rapid questions of his venerable relative,
to all of which he answered with a prudent reserve, that might, in some
measure, have been governed by the presence of the cockswain. Tom stood
with infinite composure, leaning on his harpoon, and surveying, with
a countenance where wonder was singularly blended with contempt, the
furniture and arrangements of an apartment that was far more splendid
than any he had before seen. In the mean time, Borroughcliffe entirely
disregarded the private communications that passed between his host and
Dillon, which gradually became more deeply interesting, and finally
drew them to a distant corner of the apartment, but taking a most undue
advantage of the absence of the gentleman, who had so lately been his
boon companion, he swallowed one potation after another, as if a
double duty had devolved on him, in consequence of the desertion of the
veteran. Whenever his eye did wander from the ruby tints of his
glass, it was to survey with unrepressed admiration the inches of the
cockswain, about whose stature and frame there were numberless excellent
points to attract the gaze of a recruiting officer. From this double
pleasure, the captain was, however, at last summoned, to participate in
the councils of his friends.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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