THE FLYING DUTCHMAN. CHAPTER I. Happy they were, and innocent, till love, A FEW more hours," said the prisoner, "and his revenge will be complete! By this time to-morrow night, and I shall have been tried-condemned-and broken! Merciful accuser! could he have his will to the utmost, no doubt that breaking would be upon the wheel. But relentless as he is, he must be content with the spirit of his victim. It is a question, however, who suffers most; the wretch whose limbs are slowly mangled and so left, till in a few days the worn-out frame expires; or he who, with ambition nipped in its strong budding, his prospects annihilated, and his name degraded, must either pass years in bitter struggle to regain a lost position, or, sinking slowly day by day, resign all hope and fortune, quiet of mind, and health of body, to become perhaps a tipler, and so feel the flame of life go out. He does not die. This to the fiery soul is not dying. It is a decay which antedates the corruption of the grave. This was not the death which 1 pictured to myself on entering the navy. The swell of victory-the roar of battle-the cheers of conquest-the warm grasp of comrades-the choking sob-the irrepressible tear of my rude seamen―the glory and the glow of a victor's dying heart; these were in my fancy-nay, more, these were in my prayers-when I gave up everything for the service of my country. What an intense feeling of madness overpowers me, when I reflect that these high aspirations have come to this! A lieutenant's cabin, with an armed sentry at its VOL. I.-B door-a long arrest-the disgrace of a narrow prison for a few more hours-and then-a trial-if such that mockery of justice can be called, where the only object sought is the condemnation of the accused. "A brief space since, and whose advancement seemed more certain than mine? whose name stood higher? who more favoured-more applauded-more entrusted? And for what have I made these sacrifices? A fair face! I may well start at this summing up of all that has wrought the change-and that-even that is still as far from being mine as ever-perhaps even more so. But I do not fall alone. Thousands of better hearts than mine have perilled all for nothing more, and found shipwreck on the same coast. And even I, were it to come again, would do the same this very hour. We cannot control the heart, even if we would. I have staked boldly, and I will win her yet, or pay the forfeit fearlessly. Yes, she is worth it!" said the prisoner, after a brief pause in his sad musings. Drawing from his breast a miniature, he laid it upon his narrow bed, and steadfastly regarded it with the devotion of one whose heart was absorbed by an intense and overpowering passion. The dim light that struggled through the railing of his cabin-door, came from a rude lantern on the gunroom table of a frigate, and was every now and then intercepted by the passing shadow of the marine sentinel who slowly paced to and fro. As the arrested officer gazed on the likeness of his mistress, contemplation of her expressive features appeared to diffuse fresh firmness through a bosom naturally one of the least pusillanimous or hesitating. "Could I for a moment despond," said he, resuming his mental philosophy, "possessed as I am of the affection of so dear a being? No, I must triumph in the end, if I but remain true to myself. Haughty fools! I will live to put my foot on their necks yet. The days of feudal power are, it is true, gone by; but-thank the stars-I come of a stock never yet rendered familiar with defeat. And who ever made foes of us and prospered? Though I go through fire and water-or, what is infinitely worse, unmerited shame and disgrace—I will live through it, if only for the. pleasure of paying them back their own base coin-their own with usury?" The sound of the sentry on the maindeck, going forward to strike the ship's bell, was now heard. The prisoner listened with the air of one glad to catch any sound that diverted the monotony of his own sad thoughts. "Corporal of the watch," called the sentry from above, "twelve o'clock! shall I order out the relief?" "Ay, at once," replied the soldier. Eight strokes were suddenly vibrated like a solemn warning through the ship's decks, thence undulating over the calm waters of the harbour in which she was lying. The shrill whistle of the boatswain's mate followed with the slightest perceptible intermission, and then the hoarse dull cry of "Larboard watch!" The marine, ordered by the cabin sentry, descended, lantern in hand, to the hammocks of his sleeping party, and turned out the necessary relief guard. Rousing up from under the quarter of the launch, the midshipman of the past watch rubbed his eyes, and came stumbling into the gunroom to call the lieutenant of the next; while the quartermaster was heard creeping down the steerage ladder to rouse its midshipmen, and the boatswain's mate to call its petty officers. They all agreedjit was a disagreeable kindness to render a man, and all were still more "agreeable," as Jack says, in bestowing a most hearty blessing on the captain, who, lying comfortably undisturbed in his own cabin, had such a sensitive perception of the services due to his country, as to make every one beneath him turn out to keep night watch, though his ship was lying moored in a secure haven. Gradually the various discordant sounds of grumbling, swearing, and what not, sank into a profound lull-one bell sounded. Only an hour had elapsed since midnight, and not a sound was heard save the deep snore of the first lieutenant of marines, and the intermittant bickering of two sleepy middies, one of whom could not be induced to quit his blankets, nor the other be allowed to seek them. "Wilton," said he whose duties were now so nearly over, "do you intend to turn out and relieve me, or must I cut you down? "Yes, yes, my dear fellow, in an instant-wait but one instant!" "O yes, wait! I dare say-and it's now striking one bell!" "Well, then, a second only." The poor tired fellow muttered something in reply, he knew not what, and sinking on the hard deck, was asleep in a second. Wilton had turned upon the other side, and he slept also. Presently the late watcher gave a start. "What! not out yet, Wilton? Then here goes.' His back is placed under the hammock of his "relief." He gives a sudden lift- -a slight struggle is heard, and then a heavy fall-Wilton and his bedclothes are hurled upon the deck. Like Antæus from his mother earth, he now springs up with fresh vigour. "Take that!" is heard-a scuffle- -a fight-some heavy blows, another fall. The corporal runs to the spot. "Come, gentlemen! come gentlemen!" says the soldier. "All right, corporal," says the late watcher, stanching the blood from his nose with a handkerchief, "just calling my relief here that's all." "The devil have you," says Wilton, sulkily arising, "you've given me a black eye. What are the first lieutenant's orders? Is there any wind? His clothes are hurried on-in a few minutes he is sleepily pacing the quarter-deck, breaking his shins over every other gun-carriage. Suddenly two bells are struck. Thank Heaven, there's one hour gone!" drowsily mutters Mr. Midshipman Wilton. 66 "All's well!" cry the sentries on the gangways. "All's well!" is repeated from ship to ship along the harbour, as the same hour of the night is sounded, and everything becomes as sadly silent as before. "He is a faithful fellow," said the prisoner to himself. "and would, I doubt not, serve me; but should anything unfortunate occur, perhaps their malice would not stop short of taking his life for his kindness! It does seem selfish to risk it; but I would do the same for him, were our stations changed. A few months since, and I saved his life at the danger of my own. Poor fellow! 'tis a hard request to make of him. But the fortunes of war spare no one. If I take not this opportunity, when, alas! shall I ever gain another? Come what will, it must be ventured!" The prisoner, as he came to this conclusion, arose from the cot on which he had been lying, and slipping on his jacket, the only part of his dress that he had laid aside, stepped from his cabin. In an instant the sentinel placed over him arose from the chair on which he sat in the frigate's gunroom. The marine was armed with a bayonet. He did not seem to oppose the egress of his prisoner, nor even to doubt its propriety. The act was rather of respectful inquiry. The lieutenant saw this; and, with the air of one who replies |