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
“Yes, it must be; my sinful thoughts have wandered, and conjured sounds
that it would have been dreadful to hear in truth, and within these
walls,” said Alice, more composedly, smiling with a ghastly expression,
as she gazed on the two beautiful, solicitous maidens who supported her
yielding person. “But the moment of weakness is passed, and I am better;
aid me to my room, and return, that you may not interrupt the reviving
harmony between yourselves and Colonel Howard. I am now better--nay, I
am quite restored.”
“Say not so, dear Miss Alice,” returned Cecilia; “your face denies what
your kindness to us induces you to utter; ill, very ill, you are, nor
shall even your own commands induce me to leave you.”
“Remain, then,” said Miss Dunscombe, bestowing a look of grateful
affection on her lovely supporter; “and while our Katherine returns to
the drawing-room, to give the gentlemen their coffee, you shall continue
with me, as my gentle nurse.”
By this time they had gained the apartment, and Katherine, after
assisting her cousin to place Alice on her bed, returned to do the
honors of the drawing-room.
Colonel Howard ceased his examination of the prisoners, at her entrance,
to inquire, with courtly solicitude, after the invalid; and, when his
questions were answered, he again proceeded, as follows:
“This is what the lads would call plain sailing, Borroughcliffe:
they are out of employment in Sunderland, and have acquaintances and
relatives in Whitehaven, to whom they are going for assistance and
labor. All very probable, and perfectly harmless.”
“Nothing more so, my respectable host,” returned the jocund soldier;
“but it seemeth a grievous misfortune that a trio of such flesh and
blood should need work wherewithal to exercise their thews and sinews,
while so many of the vessels of his majesty's fleet navigate the ocean
in quest of the enemies of old England.”
“There is truth in that; much truth in your remark,” cried the colonel.
“What say you, my lads, will you fight the Frenchmen and the Don----ay!
and even my own rebellious and infatuated countrymen? Nay, by heaven,
it is not a trifle that shall prevent his majesty from possessing the
services of three such heroes. Here are five guineas apiece for you
the moment that you put foot on board the Alacrity cutter; and that can
easily be done, as she lies at anchor this very night, only two short
leagues to the south of this, in a small port, where she is riding out
the gale as snugly as if she were in a corner of this room.”
One of the men affected to gaze at the money with longing eyes, while he
asked, as if weighing the terms of the engagement:
“Whether the Alacrity was called a good sea-boat, and was thought to
give a comfortable berth to her crew?”
“Comfortable!” echoed Borroughcliffe; “for that matter, she is called
the bravest cutter in the navy. You have seen much of the world, I dare
say; did you ever see such a place as the marine arsenal at Carthagena,
in old Spain?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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