Chapter Nine.

Chapter Nine.And there he went ashore without delay,Having no custom-house nor quarantineTo ask him awkward questions on the way,About the time and place where he had been:He left his ship to be hove down next day.Don Juan.The prize vessel, at the time when she carried away her masts, had gained considerably to the northward of Ushant, although the master’s mate, from his ignorance of his profession, was not aware of the fact. The wind, which now blew strongly from the North West, drove the shattered bark up the Channel, at the same time gradually nearing her to the French coast. After twenty-four hours’ driving before the storm, during which Willy never once awoke from his torpor, the vessel was not many leagues from the port of Cherbourg. It was broad daylight when our hero awoke; and after some little time necessary to chase away the vivid effects of a dream, in which he fancied himself to be on shore, walking in the fields with his dear mother, he recollected where he was, and how he was situated. He ascended the companion-ladder, and looked around him. The wind had nearly spent its fury, and was subsiding fast; but the prospect was cheerless—a dark wintry sky and rolling sea, and nothing living in view except the sea-bird that screamed as it skimmed over the white tops of the waves. The mizen of the vessel was still hoisted up, but the sheet had disengaged itself from the belaying-pin, and the sail had been rent from the bolt-rope by the storm. Part of it was blown away, and the rest, jagged and tattered at its extremities, from constant buffeting, flapped “mournfully to and fro” with the heavy rolling of the vessel.Willy, holding only the companion-hatch, scanned the horizon in every point of the compass, in hopes of succour, but for a long while in vain. At last his keen eye detected a small vessel, under a single close-reefed sail, now rising on the tops of the waves, now disappearing in the deep trough of the sea. She was sloop-rigged, and running down towards him.In a quarter of an hour she had neared to within a mile, and Willy perceived, with delight, that the people were on deck, and occasionally pointing towards him. He ran down below, and opening the chest of Mr Bullock, which was not locked, took a liberty which he would never have dared to contemplate during that worthy officer’s lifetime, viz., that of putting forth one of his two best white shirts, reserved for special occasions. This he took on deck, made it fast to a boat-hook staff, and hoisted as a signal of distress. He did also mechanically lift his hand to his head with the intention of waving his hat, but he was reminded, by not finding it there, that it had been the first votive offering which had been made to appease the implacable deities presiding over the winds and waves. The vessel closed with him, hove-to to windward, and, after some demur, a small boat, capable of holding three persons, was hoisted over the gunnel, and two hands, jumping into her, rowed under the stern of the wreck.“You must jump, my lad—there’s no going alongside a craft, without any sail to steady her, in such a sea as this. Don’t be afraid. We’ll pick you up.”Willy, who had little fear in his composition, although he could not swim, leaped from the taffrail of the vessel into the boiling surge, and immediately that he rose to the surface was rescued by the men, who, seizing him by the waistband of the trousers, hauled him into the boat, and threw him down in the bottom under the thwarts. Then, without speaking, they resumed their oars, and pulled to the other vessel, on board of which they succeeded in establishing our hero and themselves, although the boat was stove in the attempt, and cast adrift as useless.Willy’s teeth chattered, and his whole frame trembled with the cold, as he went aft to the captain of the sloop, who was sitting on deck wrapped up in a rough white great-coat, with his pipe in his mouth. The captain was a middle-sized, slightly-made young man, apparently not more than twenty-five years old. His face was oval, with a remarkably pleasing expression; his eye small and brilliant; and, notwithstanding the roughness of his outward attire, there was a degree of precision in the arrangement of his hair and whiskers, which proved that with him neatness was habitual. He had a worsted mitten on his left hand; the right, which held his pipe, was bare, and remarkably white and small. Perceiving the situation of the boy, he called to one of the men—“Here, Phillips, take this poor devil down, and put something dry on him, and give him a glass of brandy; when he’s all right again, we’ll find out from him how he happened to be adrift all by himself, like a bear in a washing-tub. There, go along with Phillips, boy.”“He’s of the right sort,” said one of the men who had brought him on board, casting his eyes in the direction of our hero, who was descending the companion: “I thought so when I see’d him have his wits about him to hoist the signal. He made no more of jumping overboard than a Newfoundland dog—never stopped two seconds to think on’t.”“We shall soon see what he is made of;” replied the captain, relighting his pipe, which had been allowed to go out during the time that they were rescuing Willy and the men from the boat when she returned.Willy was soon provided with more comfortable clothing; and whether it was or was not from a whim of Phillips’s, who had been commissioned to rig him out, he appeared on deck the very picture of the animal which he had been compared to by the sailor. Thick woollen stockings, which were longer than both his legs and thighs, a pair of fisherman’s well-greased boots, a dark Guernsey frock that reached below his knees, and a rough pea-jacket that descended to his heels, made him appear much broader than he was high. A red woollen nightcap completed his attire, which, although anything but elegant, was admirably calculated to assist the brandy in restoring the circulation.“Here he is, captain,all a-tanto, but not very neat,” said Phillips, shoving Willy up the hatchway, for he was so encumbered with the weight of his new apparel that he never could have ascended without assistance—“I have stowed away some spirits in his hold, and he no longer beats the devil’s tattoo with his grinders.”“Now, my lad,” said the captain, taking his pipe out of his mouth, “tell me what’s your name, what you are, and how you came to be adrift in that barky? Tell me the truth—be honest, always be honest, it’s the best policy.”Now, it rather unfortunately happened for Willy, that these two first questions were rather difficult for him to answer. He told his story with considerable hesitation—believed his name was Seymour—believed he was a midshipman. He was listened to without interruption by the captain and crew of the vessel, who had gathered round to hear him “spin his yarn.” When he had finished, the captain, looking Willy very hard in the face, thus addressed him:— “My little friend, excuse me, but I have some slight knowledge of the world, and I therefore wish that you had not forgotten the little advice I gave you, as a caution, before you commenced your narrative. Did not I saybe honest? Youbelieveyou are an officer,believeyour name to be Seymour. I tell you, my lad, in return, that I don’t believe a word that you say; but, however, that’s of no consequence. It requires reflection to tell a lie, and I have no objection to a little invention, or a little caution with strangers. All that about the battle was very clever; but still, depend upon it honesty’s the best policy. When we are better acquainted, I suppose we shall have the truth from you. I see the land on the lee-bow—we shall be into Cherbourg in an hour, when I expect we shall come to a better understanding.”TheSainte Vierge, for such was the name of the vessel, which smelt most insufferably of gin, and, as our readers may probably have anticipated, was a smuggler, running between Cherbourg and the English coast, soon entered the port, and, having been boarded by the officers of the douane (who made a very proper distinction between smuggling from and to their own territories) came to an anchor close to the mole. As soon as the vessel was secured, the captain went below, and in a few minutes reappearing, dressed in much better taste than one-half of the saunterers in Bond-street, went on shore to the cabaret where he usually took up his quarters, taking with him our hero, whose strange attire, so peculiarly contrasted with that of the captain’s, was a source of great amusement to the sailors and other people who were assembled on the quay.“Ah, mon capitaine, charmé de vous revoir. Buvons un coup, n’est-ce pas?” said the proprietor of the cabaret, presenting a bottle of prime French brandy, and a liquor glass, to the captain, as he entered.“Heureux voyage, n’est-ce pas, Monsieur?”“Ça va bien,” replied the captain, throwing the glass of liquor down his throat. “My apartments, if you please, and a bed for this lad. Tell Mr Beaujou, the slopseller, to come here directly with some clothes for him. Is Captain Debriseau here?”“He is, sir,—lost all his last cargo—obliged to throw over in deep water.”“Never mind: he ran the two before—he can afford it.”“Ah, but Captain Debriseau is in a very bad humour, nevertheless. He called me an old cheat this morning—c’est incroyable.”“Well, present my compliments to him, and say that I request the honour of his company, if he is not otherwise engaged. Come, youngster.”The landlord of the cabaret ushered the captain of the sloop and our hero, with many profound bows, into a low dark room, with only one window, the light from which was intercepted by a high wall, not four feet distant. The floor was paved with tiles, the table was deal, not very clean, and the whitewashed walls were hung around with stiff drawings of several smuggling vessels, whose superior sailing and consequent good fortune had rendered them celebrated in the port of Cherbourg. The straw had been lighted under some logs of wood on the hearth, which as yet emitted more smoke than flame: a few chairs, an old battered sofa, and an upright press, completed the furniture.“I knew your beautiful sloop long before she came in—there’s no mistaking her; and I ordered the apartmentde Monsieurto be prepared.C’est un joli apartement, n’est-ce pas, Monsieur? so retired!” With some forbearance, but with great judgment, the beauty of the prospect was not expatiated upon by the obsequious landlord.“It will do to smoke and eat in, Monsieur Picardon, and that is all that I require. Now bring pipes and tobacco, and take my message to Captain Debriseau.”The latter gentlemen and the pipes were ushered in at the same moment.“McElvina, my dear fellow, I am glad to see that you have had better luck than I have had this last trip. Curses on the cutter.Sacristie,” continued Captain Debriseau, who was a native of Guernsey, “the wind favoured her three points after we were about, or I should have doubled him—ay, and have doubled the weight of the leathern bag too.Sacré nom de Dieu,” continued he, grinding his teeth, and pulling a handful of hair out of his rough head, which could have spared as much as Absalom used to poll—“Que ça me fait bisquer.”“Bah! Laissez aller, mon ami—sit down and take a pipe,” rejoined our captain. “This is but pettifogging work at the best: it won’t pay for the means of resistance. My lugger will be ready in May, and then I’ll see what a revenue cutter is made of. I was at Ostend last Christmas, and saw her. By Jove, she’s a beauty! She was planked above the watermark then, and must be nearly ready for launching by this time. I’ll pass through the Race but once more; then adieu to dark nights and south-west gales—and huzza for a row of teeth, with the will, as well as the power, to bite. Sixteen long nines, my boy!”“Quick returns, though, quick returns, messmate,” answered Debriseau, referring to the Cherbourg system of smuggling, which, being his own means of livelihood, he did not like to hear disparaged.For the benefit of those who have no objection to unite a little information with amusement, I shall here enter into a few remarks relative to the smuggling carried on between the port of Cherbourg and our own coast,—premising that my readers have my entire approbation to skip over a page or two, if they are not anxious to know anything about these nefarious transactions.The port of Cherbourg, from its central situation, is better adapted than any other in France for carrying on this trade with the southern coast of England. The nearest port to it, and at which, therefore, the smuggling is principally carried on, is the Bill of Portland, near to the fashionable watering-place of Weymouth.The vessels employed in this contraband trade, of which gin is the staple commodity, are generally small luggers or sloops, from forty to sixty tons burthen. In fine summer weather, row-boats are occasionally employed; but as therunis only of twenty-four hours’ duration, the dark nights and south-west gales are what are chiefly depended upon.These vessels are not armed with an intention to resist; if they are perceived by the cruisers or revenue vessels before they arrive on the English coast, and are pursued, they are obliged (if not able to escape, from superior sailing) to throw over their cargo in “deep water,” and it is lost. The cargo is thrown overboard to avoid the penalty and imprisonment to which it would subject the crew, as well as the confiscation of the vessel and cargo. If they reach the English coast, and are chased by the revenue vessels, or have notice by signals from their agents on shore that they are discovered, and cannot land their cargoes, they take the exact bearings and distances of several points of land, and with heavy stones sink their tubs of spirits, which are always strung upon a hawser like a row of beads. There the cargo is left, until they have an opportunity of going off in boats to creep for it, which is by dragging large hooks at the bottom until they catch the hawser, and regain possession of their tubs. Such is the precision with which their marks are taken, and their dexterity from continual practice, that they seldom fail to recover their cargo. The profits of this contraband trade are so great, that if two cargoes are lost, a third safely landed will indemnify the owners.I must now observe, much to the discredit of the parties who are concerned, that this contraband trade is not carried on by individuals, but by a company; one hundred pounds shares are taken of “a speculation,” the profits of which are divided yearly: and many individuals residing on the coast, who would be thought incapable of lending themselves to such transactions are known to be deeply interested.The smuggling from Havre and Ostend, etcetera, is confined to the coast of Ireland and the northern shores of England; the cargoes are assorted and of great value; and as the voyage and risk are greater, they are generally fast-sailing vessels, well manned and armed, to enable them to offer resistance, when the disparity of force is not too great on their side.Captain McElvina had taken up the smuggling trade between Cherbourg and Portland to keep himself employed until a fine lugger of sixteen guns, the command of which had been promised to him, and which was intended to run between Havre and the coast of Ireland, should be ready; whereas Captain Debriseau had been all his life employed in the Cherbourg trade, and had no intention of quitting it.“But what have you got there, Mac?” said Debriseau, pointing with his pipe to our hero, who sat on the leathern sofa, rolled up in his uncouth attire; “is it a bear, or a boy?”“A boy, that I picked up from a wreck. I am thinking what I shall do with him—he is a smart, bold lad.”“By Jupiter,” rejoined Debriseau, “I’ll make him my Ganymede, till he grows older.”Had Willy been as learned in mythology as Captain Debriseau, he might have informed him that he had served in that capacity in his last situation under Mr Bullock; but although the names, as appertaining to a ship, were not unknown to him, yet the attributes of the respective parties were a part of his education that old Adams had omitted.“He will be fit for anything,” rejoined our captain, “if he will only be honest.”“McElvina,” said Debriseau, “you always have these words in your mouth, ‘be honest.’ Now, as, between ourselves, I do not think that either you or I are leading very honest lives, allow me to ask you why you continually harp upon honesty when we are alone? I can easily understand the propriety of shamming a little before the world.”“Debriseau, had any other man said half as much, I would have started my grog in his face. It’s no humbug on my part. I mean it sincerely; and, to prove it, I will now give you a short sketch of my life; and after you have heard it, I have no doubt but that you will acknowledge, with me, the truth of the old adage, that ‘Honesty is the best policy.’”But Captain McElvina must have a chapter to himself.

And there he went ashore without delay,Having no custom-house nor quarantineTo ask him awkward questions on the way,About the time and place where he had been:He left his ship to be hove down next day.Don Juan.

And there he went ashore without delay,Having no custom-house nor quarantineTo ask him awkward questions on the way,About the time and place where he had been:He left his ship to be hove down next day.Don Juan.

The prize vessel, at the time when she carried away her masts, had gained considerably to the northward of Ushant, although the master’s mate, from his ignorance of his profession, was not aware of the fact. The wind, which now blew strongly from the North West, drove the shattered bark up the Channel, at the same time gradually nearing her to the French coast. After twenty-four hours’ driving before the storm, during which Willy never once awoke from his torpor, the vessel was not many leagues from the port of Cherbourg. It was broad daylight when our hero awoke; and after some little time necessary to chase away the vivid effects of a dream, in which he fancied himself to be on shore, walking in the fields with his dear mother, he recollected where he was, and how he was situated. He ascended the companion-ladder, and looked around him. The wind had nearly spent its fury, and was subsiding fast; but the prospect was cheerless—a dark wintry sky and rolling sea, and nothing living in view except the sea-bird that screamed as it skimmed over the white tops of the waves. The mizen of the vessel was still hoisted up, but the sheet had disengaged itself from the belaying-pin, and the sail had been rent from the bolt-rope by the storm. Part of it was blown away, and the rest, jagged and tattered at its extremities, from constant buffeting, flapped “mournfully to and fro” with the heavy rolling of the vessel.

Willy, holding only the companion-hatch, scanned the horizon in every point of the compass, in hopes of succour, but for a long while in vain. At last his keen eye detected a small vessel, under a single close-reefed sail, now rising on the tops of the waves, now disappearing in the deep trough of the sea. She was sloop-rigged, and running down towards him.

In a quarter of an hour she had neared to within a mile, and Willy perceived, with delight, that the people were on deck, and occasionally pointing towards him. He ran down below, and opening the chest of Mr Bullock, which was not locked, took a liberty which he would never have dared to contemplate during that worthy officer’s lifetime, viz., that of putting forth one of his two best white shirts, reserved for special occasions. This he took on deck, made it fast to a boat-hook staff, and hoisted as a signal of distress. He did also mechanically lift his hand to his head with the intention of waving his hat, but he was reminded, by not finding it there, that it had been the first votive offering which had been made to appease the implacable deities presiding over the winds and waves. The vessel closed with him, hove-to to windward, and, after some demur, a small boat, capable of holding three persons, was hoisted over the gunnel, and two hands, jumping into her, rowed under the stern of the wreck.

“You must jump, my lad—there’s no going alongside a craft, without any sail to steady her, in such a sea as this. Don’t be afraid. We’ll pick you up.”

Willy, who had little fear in his composition, although he could not swim, leaped from the taffrail of the vessel into the boiling surge, and immediately that he rose to the surface was rescued by the men, who, seizing him by the waistband of the trousers, hauled him into the boat, and threw him down in the bottom under the thwarts. Then, without speaking, they resumed their oars, and pulled to the other vessel, on board of which they succeeded in establishing our hero and themselves, although the boat was stove in the attempt, and cast adrift as useless.

Willy’s teeth chattered, and his whole frame trembled with the cold, as he went aft to the captain of the sloop, who was sitting on deck wrapped up in a rough white great-coat, with his pipe in his mouth. The captain was a middle-sized, slightly-made young man, apparently not more than twenty-five years old. His face was oval, with a remarkably pleasing expression; his eye small and brilliant; and, notwithstanding the roughness of his outward attire, there was a degree of precision in the arrangement of his hair and whiskers, which proved that with him neatness was habitual. He had a worsted mitten on his left hand; the right, which held his pipe, was bare, and remarkably white and small. Perceiving the situation of the boy, he called to one of the men—“Here, Phillips, take this poor devil down, and put something dry on him, and give him a glass of brandy; when he’s all right again, we’ll find out from him how he happened to be adrift all by himself, like a bear in a washing-tub. There, go along with Phillips, boy.”

“He’s of the right sort,” said one of the men who had brought him on board, casting his eyes in the direction of our hero, who was descending the companion: “I thought so when I see’d him have his wits about him to hoist the signal. He made no more of jumping overboard than a Newfoundland dog—never stopped two seconds to think on’t.”

“We shall soon see what he is made of;” replied the captain, relighting his pipe, which had been allowed to go out during the time that they were rescuing Willy and the men from the boat when she returned.

Willy was soon provided with more comfortable clothing; and whether it was or was not from a whim of Phillips’s, who had been commissioned to rig him out, he appeared on deck the very picture of the animal which he had been compared to by the sailor. Thick woollen stockings, which were longer than both his legs and thighs, a pair of fisherman’s well-greased boots, a dark Guernsey frock that reached below his knees, and a rough pea-jacket that descended to his heels, made him appear much broader than he was high. A red woollen nightcap completed his attire, which, although anything but elegant, was admirably calculated to assist the brandy in restoring the circulation.

“Here he is, captain,all a-tanto, but not very neat,” said Phillips, shoving Willy up the hatchway, for he was so encumbered with the weight of his new apparel that he never could have ascended without assistance—“I have stowed away some spirits in his hold, and he no longer beats the devil’s tattoo with his grinders.”

“Now, my lad,” said the captain, taking his pipe out of his mouth, “tell me what’s your name, what you are, and how you came to be adrift in that barky? Tell me the truth—be honest, always be honest, it’s the best policy.”

Now, it rather unfortunately happened for Willy, that these two first questions were rather difficult for him to answer. He told his story with considerable hesitation—believed his name was Seymour—believed he was a midshipman. He was listened to without interruption by the captain and crew of the vessel, who had gathered round to hear him “spin his yarn.” When he had finished, the captain, looking Willy very hard in the face, thus addressed him:— “My little friend, excuse me, but I have some slight knowledge of the world, and I therefore wish that you had not forgotten the little advice I gave you, as a caution, before you commenced your narrative. Did not I saybe honest? Youbelieveyou are an officer,believeyour name to be Seymour. I tell you, my lad, in return, that I don’t believe a word that you say; but, however, that’s of no consequence. It requires reflection to tell a lie, and I have no objection to a little invention, or a little caution with strangers. All that about the battle was very clever; but still, depend upon it honesty’s the best policy. When we are better acquainted, I suppose we shall have the truth from you. I see the land on the lee-bow—we shall be into Cherbourg in an hour, when I expect we shall come to a better understanding.”

TheSainte Vierge, for such was the name of the vessel, which smelt most insufferably of gin, and, as our readers may probably have anticipated, was a smuggler, running between Cherbourg and the English coast, soon entered the port, and, having been boarded by the officers of the douane (who made a very proper distinction between smuggling from and to their own territories) came to an anchor close to the mole. As soon as the vessel was secured, the captain went below, and in a few minutes reappearing, dressed in much better taste than one-half of the saunterers in Bond-street, went on shore to the cabaret where he usually took up his quarters, taking with him our hero, whose strange attire, so peculiarly contrasted with that of the captain’s, was a source of great amusement to the sailors and other people who were assembled on the quay.

“Ah, mon capitaine, charmé de vous revoir. Buvons un coup, n’est-ce pas?” said the proprietor of the cabaret, presenting a bottle of prime French brandy, and a liquor glass, to the captain, as he entered.

“Heureux voyage, n’est-ce pas, Monsieur?”

“Ça va bien,” replied the captain, throwing the glass of liquor down his throat. “My apartments, if you please, and a bed for this lad. Tell Mr Beaujou, the slopseller, to come here directly with some clothes for him. Is Captain Debriseau here?”

“He is, sir,—lost all his last cargo—obliged to throw over in deep water.”

“Never mind: he ran the two before—he can afford it.”

“Ah, but Captain Debriseau is in a very bad humour, nevertheless. He called me an old cheat this morning—c’est incroyable.”

“Well, present my compliments to him, and say that I request the honour of his company, if he is not otherwise engaged. Come, youngster.”

The landlord of the cabaret ushered the captain of the sloop and our hero, with many profound bows, into a low dark room, with only one window, the light from which was intercepted by a high wall, not four feet distant. The floor was paved with tiles, the table was deal, not very clean, and the whitewashed walls were hung around with stiff drawings of several smuggling vessels, whose superior sailing and consequent good fortune had rendered them celebrated in the port of Cherbourg. The straw had been lighted under some logs of wood on the hearth, which as yet emitted more smoke than flame: a few chairs, an old battered sofa, and an upright press, completed the furniture.

“I knew your beautiful sloop long before she came in—there’s no mistaking her; and I ordered the apartmentde Monsieurto be prepared.C’est un joli apartement, n’est-ce pas, Monsieur? so retired!” With some forbearance, but with great judgment, the beauty of the prospect was not expatiated upon by the obsequious landlord.

“It will do to smoke and eat in, Monsieur Picardon, and that is all that I require. Now bring pipes and tobacco, and take my message to Captain Debriseau.”

The latter gentlemen and the pipes were ushered in at the same moment.

“McElvina, my dear fellow, I am glad to see that you have had better luck than I have had this last trip. Curses on the cutter.Sacristie,” continued Captain Debriseau, who was a native of Guernsey, “the wind favoured her three points after we were about, or I should have doubled him—ay, and have doubled the weight of the leathern bag too.Sacré nom de Dieu,” continued he, grinding his teeth, and pulling a handful of hair out of his rough head, which could have spared as much as Absalom used to poll—“Que ça me fait bisquer.”

“Bah! Laissez aller, mon ami—sit down and take a pipe,” rejoined our captain. “This is but pettifogging work at the best: it won’t pay for the means of resistance. My lugger will be ready in May, and then I’ll see what a revenue cutter is made of. I was at Ostend last Christmas, and saw her. By Jove, she’s a beauty! She was planked above the watermark then, and must be nearly ready for launching by this time. I’ll pass through the Race but once more; then adieu to dark nights and south-west gales—and huzza for a row of teeth, with the will, as well as the power, to bite. Sixteen long nines, my boy!”

“Quick returns, though, quick returns, messmate,” answered Debriseau, referring to the Cherbourg system of smuggling, which, being his own means of livelihood, he did not like to hear disparaged.

For the benefit of those who have no objection to unite a little information with amusement, I shall here enter into a few remarks relative to the smuggling carried on between the port of Cherbourg and our own coast,—premising that my readers have my entire approbation to skip over a page or two, if they are not anxious to know anything about these nefarious transactions.

The port of Cherbourg, from its central situation, is better adapted than any other in France for carrying on this trade with the southern coast of England. The nearest port to it, and at which, therefore, the smuggling is principally carried on, is the Bill of Portland, near to the fashionable watering-place of Weymouth.

The vessels employed in this contraband trade, of which gin is the staple commodity, are generally small luggers or sloops, from forty to sixty tons burthen. In fine summer weather, row-boats are occasionally employed; but as therunis only of twenty-four hours’ duration, the dark nights and south-west gales are what are chiefly depended upon.

These vessels are not armed with an intention to resist; if they are perceived by the cruisers or revenue vessels before they arrive on the English coast, and are pursued, they are obliged (if not able to escape, from superior sailing) to throw over their cargo in “deep water,” and it is lost. The cargo is thrown overboard to avoid the penalty and imprisonment to which it would subject the crew, as well as the confiscation of the vessel and cargo. If they reach the English coast, and are chased by the revenue vessels, or have notice by signals from their agents on shore that they are discovered, and cannot land their cargoes, they take the exact bearings and distances of several points of land, and with heavy stones sink their tubs of spirits, which are always strung upon a hawser like a row of beads. There the cargo is left, until they have an opportunity of going off in boats to creep for it, which is by dragging large hooks at the bottom until they catch the hawser, and regain possession of their tubs. Such is the precision with which their marks are taken, and their dexterity from continual practice, that they seldom fail to recover their cargo. The profits of this contraband trade are so great, that if two cargoes are lost, a third safely landed will indemnify the owners.

I must now observe, much to the discredit of the parties who are concerned, that this contraband trade is not carried on by individuals, but by a company; one hundred pounds shares are taken of “a speculation,” the profits of which are divided yearly: and many individuals residing on the coast, who would be thought incapable of lending themselves to such transactions are known to be deeply interested.

The smuggling from Havre and Ostend, etcetera, is confined to the coast of Ireland and the northern shores of England; the cargoes are assorted and of great value; and as the voyage and risk are greater, they are generally fast-sailing vessels, well manned and armed, to enable them to offer resistance, when the disparity of force is not too great on their side.

Captain McElvina had taken up the smuggling trade between Cherbourg and Portland to keep himself employed until a fine lugger of sixteen guns, the command of which had been promised to him, and which was intended to run between Havre and the coast of Ireland, should be ready; whereas Captain Debriseau had been all his life employed in the Cherbourg trade, and had no intention of quitting it.

“But what have you got there, Mac?” said Debriseau, pointing with his pipe to our hero, who sat on the leathern sofa, rolled up in his uncouth attire; “is it a bear, or a boy?”

“A boy, that I picked up from a wreck. I am thinking what I shall do with him—he is a smart, bold lad.”

“By Jupiter,” rejoined Debriseau, “I’ll make him my Ganymede, till he grows older.”

Had Willy been as learned in mythology as Captain Debriseau, he might have informed him that he had served in that capacity in his last situation under Mr Bullock; but although the names, as appertaining to a ship, were not unknown to him, yet the attributes of the respective parties were a part of his education that old Adams had omitted.

“He will be fit for anything,” rejoined our captain, “if he will only be honest.”

“McElvina,” said Debriseau, “you always have these words in your mouth, ‘be honest.’ Now, as, between ourselves, I do not think that either you or I are leading very honest lives, allow me to ask you why you continually harp upon honesty when we are alone? I can easily understand the propriety of shamming a little before the world.”

“Debriseau, had any other man said half as much, I would have started my grog in his face. It’s no humbug on my part. I mean it sincerely; and, to prove it, I will now give you a short sketch of my life; and after you have heard it, I have no doubt but that you will acknowledge, with me, the truth of the old adage, that ‘Honesty is the best policy.’”

But Captain McElvina must have a chapter to himself.

Chapter Ten.He hath as fine a hand at picking a pocket as a woman, and is as nimble-fingered as a juggler. If an unlucky session does not cut the rope of his life, I pronounce he will be a great man in history.Beggar’s Opera.“It is an old proverb that ‘one half of the world do not knowhowthe other half live.’ Add to it, norwherethey live, and it will be as true. There is a class of people, of whose existence the public are too well aware; but of whose resorts, and manners, and customs, among their own fraternity, they are quite as ignorant now as they were one hundred years back. Like the Chinese and the castes of the East, they never change their profession, but bequeath it from father to son, as an entailed estate from which they are to derive their subsistence. The class to which I refer, consists of those members of the community at large, who gain their livelihood by inserting their hands into the pockets of other people,—not but that all the world are doing the same thing, and have, since the creation; but then it is only asamateurs—the class that I refer to, do itprofessionally, which, you must observe, makes a wide difference. From this class I am lineally descended; and, at an early age, was duly initiated into all the mysteries of my profession. I could filch a handkerchief as soon as I was high enough to reach a pocket, and was declared to be a most promising child.“I must do my father and mother the justice to acknowledge, that while they initiated me in the mysteries of my future profession, they did not attempt to conceal that there were certain disagreeable penalties attached to ‘greatness;’ but, when prepared from our earliest years, we look forward to our fate with resignation: and, as I was invariably told, after my return from some daring feat, that my life would be a short and a merry one, I was not dismayed at the words of my prophetic mother, who observed, ‘Patrick, my boy, if you don’t wish to bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave, promise me to confine yourself to picking pockets; you will then only be transported: but if you try your hand at higher work, you’ll be hung before you’re twenty.’ My father, when I returned with a full assorted cargo, and emptied my pockets into his hands, with as much rapidity as I had transferred the contents of others into my own, used to look at me with a smile of pride and satisfaction, and, shaking his head, would exclaim—‘Pat, you’ll certainly be hung.’“Accustomed, therefore, from my infancy, to consider twenty summers, instead of threescore years and ten, as the allotted space of my existence, I looked forward to my exit from this world, by the new drop, with the same placidity as the nobleman awaits the time appointed for the entrance of his body into the vault containing the dust of his ancestors. At the age of eleven years, I considered myself a full-grown man, dared all that man could do, and was a constant, but unwilling attendant upon the police office, where my youth, and the promises of my mother that I should be reformed, assisted by showers of tears on her part, and by apparent ingenuousness on mine, frequently pleaded in my favour with the prosecutors.“I often lamented, when at that early age, that my want of education prevented me from attempting the higher walks of our profession; but this object of my ambition was gained at last. I had taken a pocket-book from a worthy Quaker, and, unfortunately, was perceived by a man at a shop window, who came out, collared, and delivered me into the hands of the prim gentleman. Having first secured his property, he then walked with me and a police officer to Bow-street. My innocent face, and my tears, induced the old gentleman, who was a member of the Philanthropic Society, not only not to prefer the charge against me, but to send me to the institution at Blackfriars-road.“I made rapid progress under their tuition, and after three years’ close application on my part, and continual inculcation, on the part of my instructors, of the distinction betweenmeumandtuum, I was considered not only a very clever boy, but a reformed character. The Quaker gentleman, who had placed me in the institution, and who was delighted with the successful results of his own penetration, selected me as his servant, and took me home.”“Well, I’m glad you were so soon reformed,” said Debriseau. “Where the devil’s my handkerchief?”“Oh, I’ve not got it,” answered McElvina, laughing. “But you are as much mistaken now as the Quaker was at that time. A wild beast may be tamed, and will remain so, provided he be not permitted again to taste blood. Then all his ferocious propensities will reappear, and prove that his education has been thrown away. So it was with me. At first, I felt no desire to return to my old employment; and had not my master trusted me too much, I might have remained honest. You often hear masters exclaiming against the dishonesty of servants. I know it to be a fact, that most of them have been made dishonest by the carelessness of their employers, in having allowed temptations to lie in their way, which were too strong to be resisted. My master used to send me up to his bureau, for small sums which he required, out of a yellow canvas bag, full of gold and silver. I am convinced that he frequently used to give me the key, when in company with his friends, in order that, after I had left the room, he might tell my history, and prove the beneficial effects of the Society. One day the yellow bag and I both disappeared.“I threw off the modest grey coat in which I was equipped, and soon procured more fashionable attire. I looked in the glass, and scarcely knew myself; I had, therefore, no fear of being recognised by my former master. Not wishing to be idle, I hired myself out as tiger and valet to a young nobleman, who was spending ten thousand pounds a year upon an allowance of seven hundred. He was a completeroué, and I must gratefully own that I learnt a great deal from him, independently of the secret of tying my neckcloth correctly;—but we soon parted.”“How was that?” said Debriseau, knocking the ashes out of his pipe.“Why, he had several diamond rings, and as he only wore two or three at a time, I sported the others at our parties. A malicious fellow, who was envious of the dash I cut, observed in my hearing that it was impossible to tell real stones from good paste. I took the hint, and one by one the diamonds vanished, and paste usurped their places. Shortly after, the creditors, not being able to touch my master’s money or his person, seized his effects, and the diamond rings were almost the only articles which escaped. My master, who always looked out for a rainy day, had collected these rings as a sort of stand-by, to ‘raise the wind’ when required. By ill luck, he took them to the same jeweller who had been employed by me to substitute the paste, and to whom I had sold the real stones. He came home in a great rage, accused me of dishonesty, and sent for a constable. I told him that I did not consider his conduct to be that of a gentleman, and wished him good morning. I had indeed intended to quit him, as he wasdone up, and only waited his return to tell him so. I had moved my trunks, accordingly, before he was out of bed. I believe a few of his suits, and some of his linen, were put in with mine, in my extreme haste; but then he owed me wages.“When I wished his lordship good morning, I certainly imagined that I had little more to learn; but I must acknowledge that I was mistaken. I knew that there was a club established for servants out of place, and had been a subscriber for two years,—as there were many advantages arising from it, independently of economy. I was now a member by right, which, as long as I was in place, I was not. To this club I repaired, and I soon found that I, who fancied myself perfect, was but atyroin the profession. It was a grand school certainly, and well organised. We had our president, vice-president, auditors of accounts, corresponding members, and our secretary. Our seal was a bunch of green poplar rods, with ‘Service is no inheritance’ as a motto.“But not to weary you with a life of adventures which would fill volumes, I shall merely state, that I was in place, out of place, following up my profession in every way, with great credit among our fraternity, until, one day, I found myself, after a tedious confinement in Newgate, decorated with a yellow jacket, and pair of fetters, on board of a vessel of three hundred tons burthen, bound to New South Wales. We sailed for Sydney, where I had been recommended, by the gentleman in a large wig, to remain seven years for change of air. The same night that the vessel came into the cove, having more liberty than the rest of my shipmates (from my good behaviour during the passage), I evaded the sentry, and slipping down by the cable into the water, swam to a ship lying near, which, I had been informed, was to sail on the ensuing day for India.“The captain being very short of hands, headed me up in a cask; and, although the vessel was not permitted to sail until very strict search had been made for me, I was not discovered, and it was supposed that I had been drowned in making the attempt. Aware that it would not be good for my health to return previously to the expiration of the seven years, I determined to learn a newprofession—that of a sailor, for which I always had a predilection; besides, it quieted my conscience as to the impropriety of not submitting to the just punishment of the law, as you will acknowledge that seven years at sea, and seven years’ transportation, are one and the same thing. From Batavia I went to Calcutta, and worked before the mast in the country vessels to Bombay and the Persian Gulf, for four years, when I thought myself capable of taking higher rank in the service, if I could get it; especially as I had picked up sufficient navigation to be able to work the ship’s reckoning.“At Calcutta, I obtained a situation as second mate of a fast-sailing schooner employed in the smuggling of opium into China, and, after three voyages, rose to the office of chief mate. Had I remained another voyage I should have been captain of the vessel; but my seven years were out, and I was anxious to return to England, and look theRobin Red Breastsboldly in the face. I had saved enough money to pay my passage, and was determined to go home like a gentleman, if I had not exactly gone out in that character. What little cash remained after my passage was paid, I lost at play to an army officer, who was returning in the same ship.“When I landed at Portsmouth, I retained a suit of ‘long togs,’ as we call them, and, disposing of all the rest of my stock to the Jews, I started for London. On my arrival I found that my father and mother were both dead, and I was meditating upon my future course oflife, when an accident determined me. I picked up a pocket-book,”—(here Captain Debriseau eyed him hard)—“I know what you mean, continued McElvina, but itwason the pavement, and notin a pocket, as you would imply by your looks. It was full of slips and scraps of paper of all sorts, which I did not take the trouble to read. The only available articles it contained, were three one-pound notes. The owner’s name and address were written on the first blank leaf. I cannot tell what possessed me, but I had an irresistible desire to be honest once in my life, and the temptation to be otherwise not being very great, I took the pocket-book to the address, and arrived at the house, just as the old gentleman to whom it belonged was givingdirectionsto have it advertised. He was in evident perturbation at his loss—and I came just at the fortunate moment. He seized his book with rapture, examined all the papers, and counted over the bills and notes.“‘Honesty is a scarce commodity, young man,’ said he, as he passed the leathern tongue of the book through the strap. ‘You have brought me my book without waiting till a reward was offered. I desired my clerk to offer twenty guineas in the advertisement—I will now give you a larger sum.’ He sat down, opened a cheque-book, and wrote me a draft on his banker. It was for one hundred pounds! I was profuse in my acknowledgments, while he replaced his book in his inside-pocket, and buttoned up his coat. ‘Honesty is a scarce commodity, young man,’ repeated he; ‘call here to-morrow at one o’clock, and I will see if I can be of any further service to you.’“I returned to my lodgings in a very thoughtful mood. I was astonished at the old man’s generosity, and still more at my having honestly obtained so large a sum. I went to bed, and reflected on what had passed. The words of the old gentleman still rang in my ears—‘Honesty is a scarce commodity.’ I communed with myself. Here have I been nearly all my life, exercising all my talents, exerting all my energies in dishonest practices, and when did I, even at the most successful hit, obtain as much money as I have by an honest act? I recalled the many days of anxious waiting that I had found necessary to accomplish a scheme of fraud—the doubtful success—the necessity of satisfying my associates—the inability of turning into ready money the articles purloined until the hue and cry was over—the trifling sum which I was obliged to take from the purchasers of stolen articles, who knew that I was at their mercy—the destitute condition I occasionally was in—and the life of constant anxiety that I had led. These reflections forced the truth upon my mind, that there was more, in the end, to be gained by honesty than by roguery.“Once convinced, I determined to lead a new life, and from that moment I assumed as my motto, ‘Honesty is the best policy.’ Do you hear, youngster?—‘always be honest.’”

He hath as fine a hand at picking a pocket as a woman, and is as nimble-fingered as a juggler. If an unlucky session does not cut the rope of his life, I pronounce he will be a great man in history.Beggar’s Opera.

He hath as fine a hand at picking a pocket as a woman, and is as nimble-fingered as a juggler. If an unlucky session does not cut the rope of his life, I pronounce he will be a great man in history.

Beggar’s Opera.

“It is an old proverb that ‘one half of the world do not knowhowthe other half live.’ Add to it, norwherethey live, and it will be as true. There is a class of people, of whose existence the public are too well aware; but of whose resorts, and manners, and customs, among their own fraternity, they are quite as ignorant now as they were one hundred years back. Like the Chinese and the castes of the East, they never change their profession, but bequeath it from father to son, as an entailed estate from which they are to derive their subsistence. The class to which I refer, consists of those members of the community at large, who gain their livelihood by inserting their hands into the pockets of other people,—not but that all the world are doing the same thing, and have, since the creation; but then it is only asamateurs—the class that I refer to, do itprofessionally, which, you must observe, makes a wide difference. From this class I am lineally descended; and, at an early age, was duly initiated into all the mysteries of my profession. I could filch a handkerchief as soon as I was high enough to reach a pocket, and was declared to be a most promising child.

“I must do my father and mother the justice to acknowledge, that while they initiated me in the mysteries of my future profession, they did not attempt to conceal that there were certain disagreeable penalties attached to ‘greatness;’ but, when prepared from our earliest years, we look forward to our fate with resignation: and, as I was invariably told, after my return from some daring feat, that my life would be a short and a merry one, I was not dismayed at the words of my prophetic mother, who observed, ‘Patrick, my boy, if you don’t wish to bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave, promise me to confine yourself to picking pockets; you will then only be transported: but if you try your hand at higher work, you’ll be hung before you’re twenty.’ My father, when I returned with a full assorted cargo, and emptied my pockets into his hands, with as much rapidity as I had transferred the contents of others into my own, used to look at me with a smile of pride and satisfaction, and, shaking his head, would exclaim—‘Pat, you’ll certainly be hung.’

“Accustomed, therefore, from my infancy, to consider twenty summers, instead of threescore years and ten, as the allotted space of my existence, I looked forward to my exit from this world, by the new drop, with the same placidity as the nobleman awaits the time appointed for the entrance of his body into the vault containing the dust of his ancestors. At the age of eleven years, I considered myself a full-grown man, dared all that man could do, and was a constant, but unwilling attendant upon the police office, where my youth, and the promises of my mother that I should be reformed, assisted by showers of tears on her part, and by apparent ingenuousness on mine, frequently pleaded in my favour with the prosecutors.

“I often lamented, when at that early age, that my want of education prevented me from attempting the higher walks of our profession; but this object of my ambition was gained at last. I had taken a pocket-book from a worthy Quaker, and, unfortunately, was perceived by a man at a shop window, who came out, collared, and delivered me into the hands of the prim gentleman. Having first secured his property, he then walked with me and a police officer to Bow-street. My innocent face, and my tears, induced the old gentleman, who was a member of the Philanthropic Society, not only not to prefer the charge against me, but to send me to the institution at Blackfriars-road.

“I made rapid progress under their tuition, and after three years’ close application on my part, and continual inculcation, on the part of my instructors, of the distinction betweenmeumandtuum, I was considered not only a very clever boy, but a reformed character. The Quaker gentleman, who had placed me in the institution, and who was delighted with the successful results of his own penetration, selected me as his servant, and took me home.”

“Well, I’m glad you were so soon reformed,” said Debriseau. “Where the devil’s my handkerchief?”

“Oh, I’ve not got it,” answered McElvina, laughing. “But you are as much mistaken now as the Quaker was at that time. A wild beast may be tamed, and will remain so, provided he be not permitted again to taste blood. Then all his ferocious propensities will reappear, and prove that his education has been thrown away. So it was with me. At first, I felt no desire to return to my old employment; and had not my master trusted me too much, I might have remained honest. You often hear masters exclaiming against the dishonesty of servants. I know it to be a fact, that most of them have been made dishonest by the carelessness of their employers, in having allowed temptations to lie in their way, which were too strong to be resisted. My master used to send me up to his bureau, for small sums which he required, out of a yellow canvas bag, full of gold and silver. I am convinced that he frequently used to give me the key, when in company with his friends, in order that, after I had left the room, he might tell my history, and prove the beneficial effects of the Society. One day the yellow bag and I both disappeared.

“I threw off the modest grey coat in which I was equipped, and soon procured more fashionable attire. I looked in the glass, and scarcely knew myself; I had, therefore, no fear of being recognised by my former master. Not wishing to be idle, I hired myself out as tiger and valet to a young nobleman, who was spending ten thousand pounds a year upon an allowance of seven hundred. He was a completeroué, and I must gratefully own that I learnt a great deal from him, independently of the secret of tying my neckcloth correctly;—but we soon parted.”

“How was that?” said Debriseau, knocking the ashes out of his pipe.

“Why, he had several diamond rings, and as he only wore two or three at a time, I sported the others at our parties. A malicious fellow, who was envious of the dash I cut, observed in my hearing that it was impossible to tell real stones from good paste. I took the hint, and one by one the diamonds vanished, and paste usurped their places. Shortly after, the creditors, not being able to touch my master’s money or his person, seized his effects, and the diamond rings were almost the only articles which escaped. My master, who always looked out for a rainy day, had collected these rings as a sort of stand-by, to ‘raise the wind’ when required. By ill luck, he took them to the same jeweller who had been employed by me to substitute the paste, and to whom I had sold the real stones. He came home in a great rage, accused me of dishonesty, and sent for a constable. I told him that I did not consider his conduct to be that of a gentleman, and wished him good morning. I had indeed intended to quit him, as he wasdone up, and only waited his return to tell him so. I had moved my trunks, accordingly, before he was out of bed. I believe a few of his suits, and some of his linen, were put in with mine, in my extreme haste; but then he owed me wages.

“When I wished his lordship good morning, I certainly imagined that I had little more to learn; but I must acknowledge that I was mistaken. I knew that there was a club established for servants out of place, and had been a subscriber for two years,—as there were many advantages arising from it, independently of economy. I was now a member by right, which, as long as I was in place, I was not. To this club I repaired, and I soon found that I, who fancied myself perfect, was but atyroin the profession. It was a grand school certainly, and well organised. We had our president, vice-president, auditors of accounts, corresponding members, and our secretary. Our seal was a bunch of green poplar rods, with ‘Service is no inheritance’ as a motto.

“But not to weary you with a life of adventures which would fill volumes, I shall merely state, that I was in place, out of place, following up my profession in every way, with great credit among our fraternity, until, one day, I found myself, after a tedious confinement in Newgate, decorated with a yellow jacket, and pair of fetters, on board of a vessel of three hundred tons burthen, bound to New South Wales. We sailed for Sydney, where I had been recommended, by the gentleman in a large wig, to remain seven years for change of air. The same night that the vessel came into the cove, having more liberty than the rest of my shipmates (from my good behaviour during the passage), I evaded the sentry, and slipping down by the cable into the water, swam to a ship lying near, which, I had been informed, was to sail on the ensuing day for India.

“The captain being very short of hands, headed me up in a cask; and, although the vessel was not permitted to sail until very strict search had been made for me, I was not discovered, and it was supposed that I had been drowned in making the attempt. Aware that it would not be good for my health to return previously to the expiration of the seven years, I determined to learn a newprofession—that of a sailor, for which I always had a predilection; besides, it quieted my conscience as to the impropriety of not submitting to the just punishment of the law, as you will acknowledge that seven years at sea, and seven years’ transportation, are one and the same thing. From Batavia I went to Calcutta, and worked before the mast in the country vessels to Bombay and the Persian Gulf, for four years, when I thought myself capable of taking higher rank in the service, if I could get it; especially as I had picked up sufficient navigation to be able to work the ship’s reckoning.

“At Calcutta, I obtained a situation as second mate of a fast-sailing schooner employed in the smuggling of opium into China, and, after three voyages, rose to the office of chief mate. Had I remained another voyage I should have been captain of the vessel; but my seven years were out, and I was anxious to return to England, and look theRobin Red Breastsboldly in the face. I had saved enough money to pay my passage, and was determined to go home like a gentleman, if I had not exactly gone out in that character. What little cash remained after my passage was paid, I lost at play to an army officer, who was returning in the same ship.

“When I landed at Portsmouth, I retained a suit of ‘long togs,’ as we call them, and, disposing of all the rest of my stock to the Jews, I started for London. On my arrival I found that my father and mother were both dead, and I was meditating upon my future course oflife, when an accident determined me. I picked up a pocket-book,”—(here Captain Debriseau eyed him hard)—“I know what you mean, continued McElvina, but itwason the pavement, and notin a pocket, as you would imply by your looks. It was full of slips and scraps of paper of all sorts, which I did not take the trouble to read. The only available articles it contained, were three one-pound notes. The owner’s name and address were written on the first blank leaf. I cannot tell what possessed me, but I had an irresistible desire to be honest once in my life, and the temptation to be otherwise not being very great, I took the pocket-book to the address, and arrived at the house, just as the old gentleman to whom it belonged was givingdirectionsto have it advertised. He was in evident perturbation at his loss—and I came just at the fortunate moment. He seized his book with rapture, examined all the papers, and counted over the bills and notes.

“‘Honesty is a scarce commodity, young man,’ said he, as he passed the leathern tongue of the book through the strap. ‘You have brought me my book without waiting till a reward was offered. I desired my clerk to offer twenty guineas in the advertisement—I will now give you a larger sum.’ He sat down, opened a cheque-book, and wrote me a draft on his banker. It was for one hundred pounds! I was profuse in my acknowledgments, while he replaced his book in his inside-pocket, and buttoned up his coat. ‘Honesty is a scarce commodity, young man,’ repeated he; ‘call here to-morrow at one o’clock, and I will see if I can be of any further service to you.’

“I returned to my lodgings in a very thoughtful mood. I was astonished at the old man’s generosity, and still more at my having honestly obtained so large a sum. I went to bed, and reflected on what had passed. The words of the old gentleman still rang in my ears—‘Honesty is a scarce commodity.’ I communed with myself. Here have I been nearly all my life, exercising all my talents, exerting all my energies in dishonest practices, and when did I, even at the most successful hit, obtain as much money as I have by an honest act? I recalled the many days of anxious waiting that I had found necessary to accomplish a scheme of fraud—the doubtful success—the necessity of satisfying my associates—the inability of turning into ready money the articles purloined until the hue and cry was over—the trifling sum which I was obliged to take from the purchasers of stolen articles, who knew that I was at their mercy—the destitute condition I occasionally was in—and the life of constant anxiety that I had led. These reflections forced the truth upon my mind, that there was more, in the end, to be gained by honesty than by roguery.

“Once convinced, I determined to lead a new life, and from that moment I assumed as my motto, ‘Honesty is the best policy.’ Do you hear, youngster?—‘always be honest.’”

Chapter Eleven.Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all.Lear.Willy, who was tired out with the extreme mental and bodily exertion that he had undergone, gave no answer to McElvina’s injunction, except a loud snore, which satisfied the captain that his caution in this instance was not heard.“Well,” said Debriseau, after a short pause, “how long did this honest fit last?”“What do you mean?—how long did it last? Why, it has lasted,—Captain Debriseau,—it has lasted until now; and shall last, too, as long as this frame of mine shall hold together. But to proceed. The next morning I called upon the old gentleman according to his request. He again told me, ‘honesty was a scarce commodity.’ I could have informed him that it had always been so with me, but I kept my own counsel. He then asked me what were my profession and pursuits? Now, as I had two professions to choose between, and as my last was considered to be just as abundant in the commodity he prized so much, as my former one was known to be deficient, I replied that I was a seafaring man. ‘Then I may find some employment for you,’ replied the old gentleman; and having put several questions to me as to the nature of the service I had seen, he desired me to take a walk till three o’clock, when he would be happy to see me at dinner:—‘We’ll then be able to have a little conversation together, without being over-heard.’“I was exact to my appointment, and my old friend, who was punctuality itself, did not allow me to remain in the parlour two minutes before dinner was on the table. As soon as it was over, he dismissed the servant girl who attended, and turned the key in the door. After sounding me on many points, during a rapid discussion of the first bottle of port, he proceeded to inform me, that a friend of his wanted a smart fellow as captain of a vessel, if I would like the employment. This suited me; and he then observed that I must have some notion of how officers were managed, as I had been in the China trade, and that hethoughtthat the vessel was to be employed in the contraband trade on the English coast.“This startled me a little, for I was afraid that the old gentleman was laying a trap for my newly-acquired commodity; and I was about to refuse with some slight show of indignation, when I perceived a change in his countenance, indicative of disappointment—so I only demurred until he had sufficient time to prove that there was no dishonesty in the transaction, when, being convinced that he was in earnest, I consented. Before the second bottle was finished, I found out that it was not for afriend, but for himself, and for one of his own vessels, that he was anxious to procure a smart captain; and that he had a large capital embarked in the concern, which was very profitable. The pocket-book which I had returned was of no little importance: had it fallen into other hands, it might have told tales.“I have now been three years in the old gentleman’s employ, and a generous good master he has been: and his daughter is a sweet pretty girl. I lost my last vessel, but not until she had cleared him 10,000 pounds; and now the old gentleman is building me another at Havre. Not to be quite idle, I have in the meantime taken command of one of their sloops: for the old gentleman has a good many shares in thespeculation, and his recommendations are always attended to.“Voici, Monsieur Beaujou, avec les habits,” said the maître d’auberge opening the door and ushering in the marchand des modesmaritimes, with a huge bundle.“Now, then, boy, rouse out,” said McElvina, shaking our hero for a long while, without any symptoms of recovering him from his lethargy.“Try him on the other tack,” said the captain, lifting him off the sofa, and placing him upright on his legs.“There’s no sugar in it yet,” said Willy, who was dreaming that he was supplying the mulled claret to the old master’s mate.“Ah,” said Debriseau, laughing, “he thinks his mamma is giving him his tea.”“The lying little rascal told me this morning that he had no mother. Come, Mr William Seymour, Ibelieve” (mimicking)—“officer, Ibelieve—Oh, you’re a nice honest boy. Have you a mother, or do you tell fibs in your sleep as well as awake? ‘Be honest.’”The last words that Willy had heard repeated so often during the day not only unsealed his eyes, but recalled to his recollection where he was.“Now, my youngster, let us rig you out; you recollect you stated that you were going home for your outfit, and now I’ll give you one, that you may have one fib less on your conscience.”By the generosity of McElvina, Willy was soon fitted with two suits of clothes, requiring little alteration, and Mr Beaujou, having received a further order for a supply of shirts, and other articles necessary to complete, made his bow and disappeared.The two captains resumed their chairs, and our hero again coiled himself on the sofa, and in one minute was as sound asleep as before.“And now, McElvina,” resumed Debriseau, “I should like to know by what arguments your employer contrived to reconcile your present vocation with your punctilious regard for honesty? For I must confess, for my own part, that although I have followed smuggling as a livelihood, I have never defended it as an honest calling, and have looked forward with occasional impatience to the time when I should be able to leave it off.”“Defend it! Why I’ll just repeat to you the arguments used by the old gentleman. They convinced me. As I said before, I am always open to conviction. Captain Debriseau, you will acknowledge, I trust, that laws are made for the benefit of all parties, high and low, rich and poor?”“Granted.”“You’ll allow also, that law-makers should not be lawbreakers; and that if they are so, they cannot expect that others will regard what they disregard themselves.”“Granted also.”“Once more—by the laws of our country, the receiver is as bad as the thief, and they who instigate others to commit an offence are equally guilty with the offending party.”“It cannot be denied,” replied Debriseau.“Then you have acceded to all the propositions that I wish, and we shall come to an undeniable and mathematical conclusion. Observe, law-makers should not be law-breakers. Who enacted these laws?—the aristocracy of the nation, seated in their respective houses, the Lords and the Commons. Go, any night you please, to the Opera, or any other place of public resort, in which you can have a view of their wives and daughter. I’ll stake my existence that every female there shall be disened out in some contraband article of dress—not one but shall prove to be a receiver of smuggled goods, and, therefore, as bad as those whom they have instigated toinfringethe laws of their country. If there were no demand there would be no supply.”“Surely they don’talldrink gin?” replied Debriseau.“Drink gin! You’re thinking of your damned Cherbourg trade,—your ideas are confined. Is there nothing smuggled besides gin? Now, if the husbands and fathers of these ladies,—those who have themselves enacted the laws,—wink at theirinfringement, why should not others do so? The only distinction between the equally offending parties is, that those who are in power,—who possess all the comforts and luxuries which this world can afford,—who offend the laws from vanity and caprice, and entice the needy to administer to their love of display, are protected and unpunished; while the adventurous seaman, whose means of supporting his family depend upon his administering to their wishes, or the poor devil who is unfortunately detected with a gallon of spirits, is thrown into gaol as if he were afelon. There cannot be one law for the rich and another for the poor, Debriseau. When I hear that the wives of the aristocracy have been seized by the revenue officers, and the contraband articles which they wear have been taken off their backs, and that they have been sentenced to twelve months’ imprisonment, by a committal from the magistrate, then—and not till then—will I acknowledge our profession to bedishonest.”“Very true,” said Debriseau; “it shows the folly of men attempting to make laws for theirmasters.”“Is it not shocking,” continued McElvina, “to reflect upon the conduct of the magistrate, who has just sentenced perhaps four or five unhappy wretches to a dungeon for an offence against these laws? He leaves the seat of Justice, and returns to the bosom of his family. Here his wife,” (mimicking)—“‘Well, my dear, you’re come at last—dinner has been put back this half-hour. I thought you would never have finished with those odious smugglers.’ ‘Why, my love, it was a very difficult case to prove; but we managed it at last, and I have signed the warrant for their committal to the county gaol. They’re sad, troublesome fellows, these smugglers.’—Now look at the lady: ‘What dress is that you put on to greet your husband?’ ‘Gros de Naples de Lyon.’—‘The lace it is trimmed with?’ ‘Valenciennes,’—‘Your gloves, madam?’ ‘Fabrique de Paris.’—‘Your ribands, your shoes, your handkerchief?’ All, all contraband.—Worthy magistrate, if you would hold the scales of Justice with an even hand, make outone moremittimus before you sit down to table. Send your wife to languish a twelvemonth in company with the poor smugglers, and then ‘to dinner with what appetite you may.’ And now, Debriseau, have I convinced you that I may follow my present calling, and still say—‘be honest?’”“Why, yes, I think we both may; but would not this evil be removed by free trade?”“Heaven forbid!” replied McElvina, laughing; “then there would be nosmuggling.”

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all.Lear.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all.

Lear.

Willy, who was tired out with the extreme mental and bodily exertion that he had undergone, gave no answer to McElvina’s injunction, except a loud snore, which satisfied the captain that his caution in this instance was not heard.

“Well,” said Debriseau, after a short pause, “how long did this honest fit last?”

“What do you mean?—how long did it last? Why, it has lasted,—Captain Debriseau,—it has lasted until now; and shall last, too, as long as this frame of mine shall hold together. But to proceed. The next morning I called upon the old gentleman according to his request. He again told me, ‘honesty was a scarce commodity.’ I could have informed him that it had always been so with me, but I kept my own counsel. He then asked me what were my profession and pursuits? Now, as I had two professions to choose between, and as my last was considered to be just as abundant in the commodity he prized so much, as my former one was known to be deficient, I replied that I was a seafaring man. ‘Then I may find some employment for you,’ replied the old gentleman; and having put several questions to me as to the nature of the service I had seen, he desired me to take a walk till three o’clock, when he would be happy to see me at dinner:—‘We’ll then be able to have a little conversation together, without being over-heard.’

“I was exact to my appointment, and my old friend, who was punctuality itself, did not allow me to remain in the parlour two minutes before dinner was on the table. As soon as it was over, he dismissed the servant girl who attended, and turned the key in the door. After sounding me on many points, during a rapid discussion of the first bottle of port, he proceeded to inform me, that a friend of his wanted a smart fellow as captain of a vessel, if I would like the employment. This suited me; and he then observed that I must have some notion of how officers were managed, as I had been in the China trade, and that hethoughtthat the vessel was to be employed in the contraband trade on the English coast.

“This startled me a little, for I was afraid that the old gentleman was laying a trap for my newly-acquired commodity; and I was about to refuse with some slight show of indignation, when I perceived a change in his countenance, indicative of disappointment—so I only demurred until he had sufficient time to prove that there was no dishonesty in the transaction, when, being convinced that he was in earnest, I consented. Before the second bottle was finished, I found out that it was not for afriend, but for himself, and for one of his own vessels, that he was anxious to procure a smart captain; and that he had a large capital embarked in the concern, which was very profitable. The pocket-book which I had returned was of no little importance: had it fallen into other hands, it might have told tales.

“I have now been three years in the old gentleman’s employ, and a generous good master he has been: and his daughter is a sweet pretty girl. I lost my last vessel, but not until she had cleared him 10,000 pounds; and now the old gentleman is building me another at Havre. Not to be quite idle, I have in the meantime taken command of one of their sloops: for the old gentleman has a good many shares in thespeculation, and his recommendations are always attended to.

“Voici, Monsieur Beaujou, avec les habits,” said the maître d’auberge opening the door and ushering in the marchand des modesmaritimes, with a huge bundle.

“Now, then, boy, rouse out,” said McElvina, shaking our hero for a long while, without any symptoms of recovering him from his lethargy.

“Try him on the other tack,” said the captain, lifting him off the sofa, and placing him upright on his legs.

“There’s no sugar in it yet,” said Willy, who was dreaming that he was supplying the mulled claret to the old master’s mate.

“Ah,” said Debriseau, laughing, “he thinks his mamma is giving him his tea.”

“The lying little rascal told me this morning that he had no mother. Come, Mr William Seymour, Ibelieve” (mimicking)—“officer, Ibelieve—Oh, you’re a nice honest boy. Have you a mother, or do you tell fibs in your sleep as well as awake? ‘Be honest.’”

The last words that Willy had heard repeated so often during the day not only unsealed his eyes, but recalled to his recollection where he was.

“Now, my youngster, let us rig you out; you recollect you stated that you were going home for your outfit, and now I’ll give you one, that you may have one fib less on your conscience.”

By the generosity of McElvina, Willy was soon fitted with two suits of clothes, requiring little alteration, and Mr Beaujou, having received a further order for a supply of shirts, and other articles necessary to complete, made his bow and disappeared.

The two captains resumed their chairs, and our hero again coiled himself on the sofa, and in one minute was as sound asleep as before.

“And now, McElvina,” resumed Debriseau, “I should like to know by what arguments your employer contrived to reconcile your present vocation with your punctilious regard for honesty? For I must confess, for my own part, that although I have followed smuggling as a livelihood, I have never defended it as an honest calling, and have looked forward with occasional impatience to the time when I should be able to leave it off.”

“Defend it! Why I’ll just repeat to you the arguments used by the old gentleman. They convinced me. As I said before, I am always open to conviction. Captain Debriseau, you will acknowledge, I trust, that laws are made for the benefit of all parties, high and low, rich and poor?”

“Granted.”

“You’ll allow also, that law-makers should not be lawbreakers; and that if they are so, they cannot expect that others will regard what they disregard themselves.”

“Granted also.”

“Once more—by the laws of our country, the receiver is as bad as the thief, and they who instigate others to commit an offence are equally guilty with the offending party.”

“It cannot be denied,” replied Debriseau.

“Then you have acceded to all the propositions that I wish, and we shall come to an undeniable and mathematical conclusion. Observe, law-makers should not be law-breakers. Who enacted these laws?—the aristocracy of the nation, seated in their respective houses, the Lords and the Commons. Go, any night you please, to the Opera, or any other place of public resort, in which you can have a view of their wives and daughter. I’ll stake my existence that every female there shall be disened out in some contraband article of dress—not one but shall prove to be a receiver of smuggled goods, and, therefore, as bad as those whom they have instigated toinfringethe laws of their country. If there were no demand there would be no supply.”

“Surely they don’talldrink gin?” replied Debriseau.

“Drink gin! You’re thinking of your damned Cherbourg trade,—your ideas are confined. Is there nothing smuggled besides gin? Now, if the husbands and fathers of these ladies,—those who have themselves enacted the laws,—wink at theirinfringement, why should not others do so? The only distinction between the equally offending parties is, that those who are in power,—who possess all the comforts and luxuries which this world can afford,—who offend the laws from vanity and caprice, and entice the needy to administer to their love of display, are protected and unpunished; while the adventurous seaman, whose means of supporting his family depend upon his administering to their wishes, or the poor devil who is unfortunately detected with a gallon of spirits, is thrown into gaol as if he were afelon. There cannot be one law for the rich and another for the poor, Debriseau. When I hear that the wives of the aristocracy have been seized by the revenue officers, and the contraband articles which they wear have been taken off their backs, and that they have been sentenced to twelve months’ imprisonment, by a committal from the magistrate, then—and not till then—will I acknowledge our profession to bedishonest.”

“Very true,” said Debriseau; “it shows the folly of men attempting to make laws for theirmasters.”

“Is it not shocking,” continued McElvina, “to reflect upon the conduct of the magistrate, who has just sentenced perhaps four or five unhappy wretches to a dungeon for an offence against these laws? He leaves the seat of Justice, and returns to the bosom of his family. Here his wife,” (mimicking)—“‘Well, my dear, you’re come at last—dinner has been put back this half-hour. I thought you would never have finished with those odious smugglers.’ ‘Why, my love, it was a very difficult case to prove; but we managed it at last, and I have signed the warrant for their committal to the county gaol. They’re sad, troublesome fellows, these smugglers.’—Now look at the lady: ‘What dress is that you put on to greet your husband?’ ‘Gros de Naples de Lyon.’—‘The lace it is trimmed with?’ ‘Valenciennes,’—‘Your gloves, madam?’ ‘Fabrique de Paris.’—‘Your ribands, your shoes, your handkerchief?’ All, all contraband.—Worthy magistrate, if you would hold the scales of Justice with an even hand, make outone moremittimus before you sit down to table. Send your wife to languish a twelvemonth in company with the poor smugglers, and then ‘to dinner with what appetite you may.’ And now, Debriseau, have I convinced you that I may follow my present calling, and still say—‘be honest?’”

“Why, yes, I think we both may; but would not this evil be removed by free trade?”

“Heaven forbid!” replied McElvina, laughing; “then there would be nosmuggling.”

Chapter Twelve.Love me, love my dog.Proverb.It is the misfortune of those who have been in constant habits of deceit that they always imagine others are attempting the same dishonest practices. For some time McElvina felt convinced that our little hero had swerved from truth in the account which he gave of himself; and it was not until after repeated catechisings, in which he found that, strange and improbable as the narrative appeared, Willy never altered from or contradicted his original statement, that he believed the boy to be as honest and ingenuous as might have been inferred from his prepossessing countenance.To this conviction, how ever, did he arrive at last; and our hero—who seemed no sooner to have lost one protector than to have the good fortune to find another—became the favourite and companion of his new captain, instead of his domestic, as had been originally contemplated. A lad of Willy’s age, who is treated with kindness and consideration, is soon attached, and becomes reconciled to any change of circumstances. It was a matter of indifference to our hero whether he was on the quarter-deck of a man-of-war or in the cabin of a smuggling sloop. Contented with his present lot,—with the happy thoughtlessness of youth, he never permitted the future to disturb his repose or affect his digestion.Willy had been nearly a month at Cherbourg when McElvina’s sloop took in another cargo. “Willy,” said McElvina, one evening as they sat together in the apartment at the cabaret, “to-morrow I shall, in all probability, sail for the English coast. I have been thinking what I shall do with you. I do not much like parting with you; but, on reflection, I think it will be better that I should leave you behind. You can be of no use, and may be in the way if we should be obliged to take to our boat.”Willy pleaded hard against this arrangement. “I never have a friend but I lose him directly,” said the boy, and the tears started into his eyes.“I trust you will not lose me, my dear fellow,” replied McElvina, moved at this proof of affection; “but I must explain to you why I leave you. In the first place,” added he, laughing, “with that mark on your shoulder, it would be felony without benefit of clergy for you to be found in my possession; but of that I would run the risk. My serious reasons are as follow:— If this trip proves fortunate, I shall not return to Cherbourg. I have business of importance in London, which may require my presence for some weeks in that metropolis and its vicinity. I told you before, that I am about to take the command of a very different vessel from this paltry sloop, and upon a more dangerous service. In four or five months she will be ready to sail, and during that time I shall be constantly on the move, and shall hardly know what to do with you. Now, Willy, you are not aware of the advantages of education—I am: and as mine was given to me by strangers, so will I in return bestow as much upon you as I can afford. You must, therefore, go to school until my return. You will at least acquire the French language, and you will find that of no little use to you hereafter.”Willy, accustomed to discipline and to breathe the air of passive obedience, submitted without raising any more objections. Debriseau joined, and they all three sallied forth to make arrangements for placing our hero “en pension,” where they had been recommended. Having effected this, they agreed to lounge on thePlace d’Armestill sunset, when they took possession of one of the benches. McElvina and Debriseau lighted their cigars, and puffed away in silence, while Willy amused himself with watching the promenaders as they passed in review before him.They had not remained there many minutes when a poodle-dog,bien tondu, and white as a sheep from the river before the day of shearing, walked up to them with an air of sagacious curiosity, and looked McElvina steadfastly in the face. McElvina, taking his cigar from his mouth, held it to the dog, who ran up to it, as if to smell it; the lighted end coming in contact with his cold nose, induced the animal to set up a loud yell, and retreat to his master much faster than he came, passing first one fore-paw and then the other over his nose, to wipe away the pain, in such a ridiculous manner as to excite loud merriment, not only from our party on the bench, but also from others who had witnessed the scene.“So much for curiosity,” said McElvina, continuing his mirth. The proprietor of the dog, a young Frenchman, dressed very much “en calicot,” did not, however, seem quite so much amused with this practical joke; he cocked his hat fiercely on one side, raised his figure to the utmost of its height, and walking up,en grand militaireaddressed McElvina, with “Comment, monsieur, vous avez fait une grande bêtise-là—vous m’insultez—”“I think I had better not understand French,” said McElvina, aside to Debriseau; then turning to the Frenchman, with a grave face, and air of incomprehension,—“What did you say, sir?”“Ah! you are Inglishman. You not speak French?”—McElvina shook his head, and began to puff away his cigar.“Den, sare, if you not speak de French language, I speak de Englis like von natif; and I tell you, sare,que vous m’avez insulté. Got for dam!—you burnt my dog nose; vat you mean, sare?”“The dog burnt his own nose,” answered McElvina, mildly.“Vat you mean? de dog burnt his own nose! How is a dog capable to burn his own nose? Sare, you put de cigar to my dog nose. I must have desatisfactionor de apologytout de suite.”“But, sir, I have not insulted you.”“Sare, you insult my dog—he is von and de same ting—mon chien est un chien de sentiment. He feel de affront all de same vid me—I feel de affront all de same vid him.Vous n’avez qu’à choisir, monsieur.”“Between you and your dog,” answered McElvina—“Well, then, I’d rather fight the dog.”“Bah! fight de dog—de dog cannot fight, sare:mais je suis son maître et son amiand I vill fight for him.”“Well, then, monsieur, I did insult your dog, I must acknowledge, and I will give him the satisfaction which you require.”“And how vill you give de satisfaction to de dog?”“Why, sir, you said just now that he wasun chien de beaucoup de sentiment:— if he is so, he will accept and properly appreciate my apology.”“Ah, sare,” replied the Frenchman, relaxing the stern wrinkles of his brow, “c’est bien dit; you will make de apology to de dog.Sans doute, he is de principal, I am only de second.C’est une affaire arrangée. Moustache, viens ici Moustache” (the dog came up to his master).Monsieur est très faché de t’avoir brulé le nez.“Monsieur Moustache,” said McElvina, taking off his hat with mock gravity to the dog, who seemed determined to keep at a respectful distance, “je vous demande mille excuses.”“Ah! que c’est charmant!” cried some of the fair sex, who, as well as the men, had been attracted by, and were listening to the dispute. “Que Monsieur l’Anglais est drôle: et voyez Moustache, comme il a l’air content—vraiment c’est un chien d’esprit.”“Allez, Moustache,” said his master, who was now all smiles, “donnez la patte à monsieur—donnez donc. Ah, sare, he forgive you, I am very sure—il n’a pas de malice, but he is afraid of de cigar. De burnt shild dred devater, as your great Shakespeare say.”“C’est un chien de talent: il a beaucoup de sentiment. Je suis bien fâché de t’avoir blessé, monsieur.”“Et monsieur parle Français?”“I should esteem myself fortunate, if I spoke your language as well as you do mine,” replied McElvina, in French.This compliment, before so many bystanders, completely won the heart of the vain and choleric Frenchman.“Ah, sare, you are too complaisant. I hope I shall have de pleasure to make your acquaintance.Je m’appelle Monsieur Auguste de Poivre. J’ai l’honneur de vous présenter une carte d’adresse. I live on de top of my mother’s,—sur l’entresol. My mother live on de ground—rez-de-chaussée. Madamema mèrewill be delighted to receive a monsieur of so much vit and adresse.” So saying, away went Monsieur Auguste de Poivre, followed by Moustache, who was “all von and de same ting.”“Well, we live and learn,” said McElvina, laughing, as soon as the Frenchman was at a little distance; “I never thought that I should have made an apology to a dog.”“Oh, but,” replied Debriseau, “you forget that he wasUn chien de sentiment.”“You may imagine, from my behaviour, that I consider him a wiser puppy than his master, for he ran away from fire, whereas his master tried all he could to get into it. Some of our countrymen would have humoured him, and turned a comedy into a tragedy—I set a proper value on my life, and do not choose to risk it about trifles.”“There has been more than one valuable life thrown away about a dog, in my remembrance,” said Debriseau. “I think you behaved in a sensible manner to get rid of the affair as you did; but you would have done better not to have burnt the dog’s nose.”“Granted,” replied McElvina; “the more so, as I have often remarked, that there is no object in the world, except your children or your own self; in which themeumis so powerful, and thetuumso weak. You caress your own dog, and kick a strange one; you are pleased with the clamorous barking of your own cur, and you curse the same noise from another. The feeling is as powerful, almost, as that of a mother, who thinks her own ugly cub a cherub compared to others, and its squallings the music of the spheres. It is because there is no being that administers so much to the self-love of his master. He submits, with humility, to the blows inflicted in the moment of irritation, and licks the hand that corrects. He bears no revengeful feelings, and is ready to fondle and caress you the moment that your good humour returns. He is, what man looks in vain for among his kind, a faithful friend, without contradiction—thevery perfection of a slave. The abject submission on his part, which would induce you to despise him, becomes a merit, when you consider his courage, his fidelity, and his gratitude. I cannot think what Mahomet was about when he pronounced his fiat against them, asunclean.”“Well,” said Debriseau, “I agree with Mahomet that they arenot clean, especially puppies. There’s that little beast at Monsieur Picardon’s, I declare—”“Pooh,” interrupted McElvina, laughing, “I don’t mean it in that sense—I mean that, in a despotic country, the conduct of a dog towards his master should be held up as an example for imitation; and I think that the banner of the Moslem should have borne the dog, instead of the crescent, as an emblem of blind fidelity and tacit submission.”“That’s very true,” said Debriseau; “but, nevertheless, I wish mademoiselle’s puppy were either taught manners or thrown over the quay.”“Ce n’est pas un chien de sentiment,” replied McElvina, laughing. “But it is nearly dark.Allons au cabaret.”They returned to the inn; and the wind, on the ensuing morning, blowing strong from a favourable quarter, Willy and Debriseau accompanied McElvina down to the mole, from whence he embarked on board of the sloop, which was already under way, and in the course of an hour was out of sight.On the following day, Captain Debriseau accompanied Willy to thepension, where our hero remained nearly five months, occasionally visited by the Guernsey captain, when he returned from his smuggling trips, and more rarely receiving a letter from McElvina, who had safely landed his cargo, and was latterly at Havre, superintending the fitting out of his new vessel. Our hero made good progress during the few months that he remained at thepension, and when McElvina returned to take him away, not only could speak the French language with fluency, but had also made considerable progress in what Sir W. C— used to designate in his toast as “the three R’s,”—viz., “Reading, ’Riting, and ’Rithmetic.”The lugger which had been built for McElvina by his employer was now ready, and, bidding farewell to Debriseau, who continued in the Cherbourg trade, our hero and his protector journeyeden diligenceto Havre.

Love me, love my dog.Proverb.

Love me, love my dog.Proverb.

It is the misfortune of those who have been in constant habits of deceit that they always imagine others are attempting the same dishonest practices. For some time McElvina felt convinced that our little hero had swerved from truth in the account which he gave of himself; and it was not until after repeated catechisings, in which he found that, strange and improbable as the narrative appeared, Willy never altered from or contradicted his original statement, that he believed the boy to be as honest and ingenuous as might have been inferred from his prepossessing countenance.

To this conviction, how ever, did he arrive at last; and our hero—who seemed no sooner to have lost one protector than to have the good fortune to find another—became the favourite and companion of his new captain, instead of his domestic, as had been originally contemplated. A lad of Willy’s age, who is treated with kindness and consideration, is soon attached, and becomes reconciled to any change of circumstances. It was a matter of indifference to our hero whether he was on the quarter-deck of a man-of-war or in the cabin of a smuggling sloop. Contented with his present lot,—with the happy thoughtlessness of youth, he never permitted the future to disturb his repose or affect his digestion.

Willy had been nearly a month at Cherbourg when McElvina’s sloop took in another cargo. “Willy,” said McElvina, one evening as they sat together in the apartment at the cabaret, “to-morrow I shall, in all probability, sail for the English coast. I have been thinking what I shall do with you. I do not much like parting with you; but, on reflection, I think it will be better that I should leave you behind. You can be of no use, and may be in the way if we should be obliged to take to our boat.”

Willy pleaded hard against this arrangement. “I never have a friend but I lose him directly,” said the boy, and the tears started into his eyes.

“I trust you will not lose me, my dear fellow,” replied McElvina, moved at this proof of affection; “but I must explain to you why I leave you. In the first place,” added he, laughing, “with that mark on your shoulder, it would be felony without benefit of clergy for you to be found in my possession; but of that I would run the risk. My serious reasons are as follow:— If this trip proves fortunate, I shall not return to Cherbourg. I have business of importance in London, which may require my presence for some weeks in that metropolis and its vicinity. I told you before, that I am about to take the command of a very different vessel from this paltry sloop, and upon a more dangerous service. In four or five months she will be ready to sail, and during that time I shall be constantly on the move, and shall hardly know what to do with you. Now, Willy, you are not aware of the advantages of education—I am: and as mine was given to me by strangers, so will I in return bestow as much upon you as I can afford. You must, therefore, go to school until my return. You will at least acquire the French language, and you will find that of no little use to you hereafter.”

Willy, accustomed to discipline and to breathe the air of passive obedience, submitted without raising any more objections. Debriseau joined, and they all three sallied forth to make arrangements for placing our hero “en pension,” where they had been recommended. Having effected this, they agreed to lounge on thePlace d’Armestill sunset, when they took possession of one of the benches. McElvina and Debriseau lighted their cigars, and puffed away in silence, while Willy amused himself with watching the promenaders as they passed in review before him.

They had not remained there many minutes when a poodle-dog,bien tondu, and white as a sheep from the river before the day of shearing, walked up to them with an air of sagacious curiosity, and looked McElvina steadfastly in the face. McElvina, taking his cigar from his mouth, held it to the dog, who ran up to it, as if to smell it; the lighted end coming in contact with his cold nose, induced the animal to set up a loud yell, and retreat to his master much faster than he came, passing first one fore-paw and then the other over his nose, to wipe away the pain, in such a ridiculous manner as to excite loud merriment, not only from our party on the bench, but also from others who had witnessed the scene.

“So much for curiosity,” said McElvina, continuing his mirth. The proprietor of the dog, a young Frenchman, dressed very much “en calicot,” did not, however, seem quite so much amused with this practical joke; he cocked his hat fiercely on one side, raised his figure to the utmost of its height, and walking up,en grand militaireaddressed McElvina, with “Comment, monsieur, vous avez fait une grande bêtise-là—vous m’insultez—”

“I think I had better not understand French,” said McElvina, aside to Debriseau; then turning to the Frenchman, with a grave face, and air of incomprehension,—“What did you say, sir?”

“Ah! you are Inglishman. You not speak French?”—McElvina shook his head, and began to puff away his cigar.

“Den, sare, if you not speak de French language, I speak de Englis like von natif; and I tell you, sare,que vous m’avez insulté. Got for dam!—you burnt my dog nose; vat you mean, sare?”

“The dog burnt his own nose,” answered McElvina, mildly.

“Vat you mean? de dog burnt his own nose! How is a dog capable to burn his own nose? Sare, you put de cigar to my dog nose. I must have desatisfactionor de apologytout de suite.”

“But, sir, I have not insulted you.”

“Sare, you insult my dog—he is von and de same ting—mon chien est un chien de sentiment. He feel de affront all de same vid me—I feel de affront all de same vid him.Vous n’avez qu’à choisir, monsieur.”

“Between you and your dog,” answered McElvina—“Well, then, I’d rather fight the dog.”

“Bah! fight de dog—de dog cannot fight, sare:mais je suis son maître et son amiand I vill fight for him.”

“Well, then, monsieur, I did insult your dog, I must acknowledge, and I will give him the satisfaction which you require.”

“And how vill you give de satisfaction to de dog?”

“Why, sir, you said just now that he wasun chien de beaucoup de sentiment:— if he is so, he will accept and properly appreciate my apology.”

“Ah, sare,” replied the Frenchman, relaxing the stern wrinkles of his brow, “c’est bien dit; you will make de apology to de dog.Sans doute, he is de principal, I am only de second.C’est une affaire arrangée. Moustache, viens ici Moustache” (the dog came up to his master).Monsieur est très faché de t’avoir brulé le nez.

“Monsieur Moustache,” said McElvina, taking off his hat with mock gravity to the dog, who seemed determined to keep at a respectful distance, “je vous demande mille excuses.”

“Ah! que c’est charmant!” cried some of the fair sex, who, as well as the men, had been attracted by, and were listening to the dispute. “Que Monsieur l’Anglais est drôle: et voyez Moustache, comme il a l’air content—vraiment c’est un chien d’esprit.”

“Allez, Moustache,” said his master, who was now all smiles, “donnez la patte à monsieur—donnez donc. Ah, sare, he forgive you, I am very sure—il n’a pas de malice, but he is afraid of de cigar. De burnt shild dred devater, as your great Shakespeare say.”

“C’est un chien de talent: il a beaucoup de sentiment. Je suis bien fâché de t’avoir blessé, monsieur.”

“Et monsieur parle Français?”

“I should esteem myself fortunate, if I spoke your language as well as you do mine,” replied McElvina, in French.

This compliment, before so many bystanders, completely won the heart of the vain and choleric Frenchman.

“Ah, sare, you are too complaisant. I hope I shall have de pleasure to make your acquaintance.Je m’appelle Monsieur Auguste de Poivre. J’ai l’honneur de vous présenter une carte d’adresse. I live on de top of my mother’s,—sur l’entresol. My mother live on de ground—rez-de-chaussée. Madamema mèrewill be delighted to receive a monsieur of so much vit and adresse.” So saying, away went Monsieur Auguste de Poivre, followed by Moustache, who was “all von and de same ting.”

“Well, we live and learn,” said McElvina, laughing, as soon as the Frenchman was at a little distance; “I never thought that I should have made an apology to a dog.”

“Oh, but,” replied Debriseau, “you forget that he wasUn chien de sentiment.”

“You may imagine, from my behaviour, that I consider him a wiser puppy than his master, for he ran away from fire, whereas his master tried all he could to get into it. Some of our countrymen would have humoured him, and turned a comedy into a tragedy—I set a proper value on my life, and do not choose to risk it about trifles.”

“There has been more than one valuable life thrown away about a dog, in my remembrance,” said Debriseau. “I think you behaved in a sensible manner to get rid of the affair as you did; but you would have done better not to have burnt the dog’s nose.”

“Granted,” replied McElvina; “the more so, as I have often remarked, that there is no object in the world, except your children or your own self; in which themeumis so powerful, and thetuumso weak. You caress your own dog, and kick a strange one; you are pleased with the clamorous barking of your own cur, and you curse the same noise from another. The feeling is as powerful, almost, as that of a mother, who thinks her own ugly cub a cherub compared to others, and its squallings the music of the spheres. It is because there is no being that administers so much to the self-love of his master. He submits, with humility, to the blows inflicted in the moment of irritation, and licks the hand that corrects. He bears no revengeful feelings, and is ready to fondle and caress you the moment that your good humour returns. He is, what man looks in vain for among his kind, a faithful friend, without contradiction—thevery perfection of a slave. The abject submission on his part, which would induce you to despise him, becomes a merit, when you consider his courage, his fidelity, and his gratitude. I cannot think what Mahomet was about when he pronounced his fiat against them, asunclean.”

“Well,” said Debriseau, “I agree with Mahomet that they arenot clean, especially puppies. There’s that little beast at Monsieur Picardon’s, I declare—”

“Pooh,” interrupted McElvina, laughing, “I don’t mean it in that sense—I mean that, in a despotic country, the conduct of a dog towards his master should be held up as an example for imitation; and I think that the banner of the Moslem should have borne the dog, instead of the crescent, as an emblem of blind fidelity and tacit submission.”

“That’s very true,” said Debriseau; “but, nevertheless, I wish mademoiselle’s puppy were either taught manners or thrown over the quay.”

“Ce n’est pas un chien de sentiment,” replied McElvina, laughing. “But it is nearly dark.Allons au cabaret.”

They returned to the inn; and the wind, on the ensuing morning, blowing strong from a favourable quarter, Willy and Debriseau accompanied McElvina down to the mole, from whence he embarked on board of the sloop, which was already under way, and in the course of an hour was out of sight.

On the following day, Captain Debriseau accompanied Willy to thepension, where our hero remained nearly five months, occasionally visited by the Guernsey captain, when he returned from his smuggling trips, and more rarely receiving a letter from McElvina, who had safely landed his cargo, and was latterly at Havre, superintending the fitting out of his new vessel. Our hero made good progress during the few months that he remained at thepension, and when McElvina returned to take him away, not only could speak the French language with fluency, but had also made considerable progress in what Sir W. C— used to designate in his toast as “the three R’s,”—viz., “Reading, ’Riting, and ’Rithmetic.”

The lugger which had been built for McElvina by his employer was now ready, and, bidding farewell to Debriseau, who continued in the Cherbourg trade, our hero and his protector journeyeden diligenceto Havre.

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