their
proceedings, the same time that he was narrowly watched himself by the
young midshipman. "God send that he knows his trade well, for the bottom
of a ship will need eyes to find its road out of this wild anchorage."
"That must indeed be the man!" exclaimed Barnstable, at once recalled to
his duty. He then held a short dialogue with his female companion, whom
he left concealed by the hedge, and proceeded to address the stranger.
When near enough to be heard, the commander of the schooner demanded:
"What water have you in this bay?"
The stranger, who seemed to expect this question, answered without the
least hesitation:
"Enough to take all out in safety, who have entered with confidence."
"You are the man I seek," cried Barnstable; "are you ready to go off?"
"Both ready and willing," returned the pilot, "and there is need of
haste. I would give the best hundred guineas that ever were coined for
two hours more use of that sun which has left us, or for even the time
of this fading twilight."
"Think you our situation so bad?" said the lieutenant. "Follow this
gentleman to the boat then; I will join you by the time you can descend
the cliffs. I believe I can prevail on another hand to go off with us."
"Time is more precious now than any number of hands," said the pilot,
throwing a glance of impatience from under his lowering brows, "and the
consequences of delay must be visited on those who occasion it."
"And, sir, I will meet the consequences with those who have a right to
inquire into my conduct," said Barnstable, haughtily.
With this warning and retort they separated; the young officer retracing
his steps impatiently toward his mistress, muttering his indignation in
suppressed execrations, and the pilot, drawing the leathern belt of his
pea-jacket mechanically around his body, as he followed the midshipman
and cockswain to their boat, in moody silence.
Barnstable found the disguised female who had announced herself as
Katherine Plowden, awaiting his return, with intense anxiety depicted on
every feature of her intelligent countenance. As he felt all the
responsibility of his situation, notwithstanding his cool reply to the
pilot, the young man hastily drew an arm of the apparent boy, forgetful
of her disguise, through his own, and led her forward.
"Come, Katherine," he said, "the time urges to be prompt."
"What pressing necessity is there for immediate departure?" she
inquired, checking his movements by withdrawing herself from his side.
"You heard the ominous prognostic of my cockswain on the weather, and I
am forced to add my own testimony to his opinion. 'Tis a crazy night
that threatens us, though I cannot repent of coming into the bay, since
it has led to this interview."
"God forbid that we should either of us have cause to repent of it,"
said Katherine, the paleness of anxiety chasing away the rich bloom that
had mantled the animated face of the brunette. "But you have the paper—
follow its directions, and come to our rescue; you will find us willing
captives, if Griffith and yourself are our conquerors."
"What mean you, Katherine!" exclaimed her lover; "you at least are now
in safety—'twould be madness to tempt your fate again. My vessel can
and shall protect you, until your cousin is redeemed; and then,
remember, I have a claim on you for life."
"And how would you dispose of me in the interval?" said the young
maiden, retreating slowly from his advances.
"In the Ariel—by heaven, you shall be her commander; I will bear that
rank only in name."
"I thank you, thank you, Barnstable, but distrust my abilities to fill
such a station," she said, laughing, though the color that again crossed
her youthful features was like the glow of a summer's sunset, and even
her mirthful eyes seemed to reflect their tints. "Do not mistake me,
saucy one. If I have done more than my sex will warrant, remember it was
through a holy motive, and if I have more than a woman's enterprise, it
must be—"
"To lift you