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
Obedient to the summons, this singular man, in whose breast the natural
feelings, that were now on the eve of a violent eruption, had so long
been smothered by the visionary expectations of a wild ambition, and
perhaps of fierce resentments, pursued his course, in deep abstraction,
towards the boats. He was soon met by the soldiers of Borroughcliffe,
deprived of their arms, it is true, but unguarded, and returning
peacefully to their quarters. The mind of the Pilot, happily for the
liberty of these men, was too much absorbed in his peculiar reflections,
to note this act of Griffith's generosity, nor did he arouse from his
musing until his steps were arrested by suddenly encountering a human
figure in the pathway. A light tap on his shoulder was the first mark
of recognition he received, when Borroughcliffe, who stood before him,
said:
“It is evident, sir, from what has passed this evening, that you are not
what you seem. You may be some rebel admiral or general, for aught that
I know, the right to command having been strangely contested among ye
this night. But let who will own the chief authority, I take the liberty
of whispering in your ear that I have been scurvily treated by you--I
repeat, most scurvily treated by you all, generally, and by you in
particular.”
The Pilot started at this strange address, which was uttered with all
the bitterness that could be imparted to it by a disappointed man; but
he motioned with his hand for the captain to depart, and turned aside to
pursue his own way.
“Perhaps I am not properly understood,” continued the obstinate soldier:
“I say, sir, you have treated me scurvily: and I would not be thought to
say this to any gentleman, without wishing to give him an opportunity to
vent his anger.”
The eye of the Pilot, as he moved forward, glanced at the pistols which
Borroughcliffe held in his hands, the one by the handle, and the other
by its barrel, and the soldier even fancied that his footsteps were
quickened by the sight. After gazing at him until his form was lost in
the darkness, the captain muttered to himself:
“He is no more than a common pilot, after all! No true gentleman would
have received so palpable a hint with such a start. Ah! here comes the
party of my worthy friend whose palate knows a grape of the north side
of Madeira from one of the south. The dog has the throat of a gentleman;
we will see how he can swallow a delicate allusion to his faults!”
Borroughcliffe stepped aside to allow the marines, who were also in
motion for the boats, to pass, and watched with keen looks for the
person of the commander. Manual, who had been previously apprised of the
intention of Griffith to release the prisoners, had halted to see that
none but those who had been liberated by authority were marching
into the country. This accidental circumstance gave Borroughcliffe an
opportunity of meeting the other at some little distance from either of
their respective parties.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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