The Wing and Wing by J. Fenimore Cooper

J >> J. Fenimore Cooper >> The Wing and Wing

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"Really, Captain Cuffe, we did our best; but a man might as well have
attempted to put out Vesuvius with snowballs as to stand the canister of
that infernal lugger! I don't think there was a square yard in the
felucca that was not peppered. The men never behaved better; and down to
the moment when we last cheered I was as sure of le Feu-Follet as I ever
was of my own promotion."

"Aye, they needn't call her le Few-Folly any longer--the Great Folly
being a better name. What the devil did you cheer for at all, sir? did
you ever know a Frenchman cheer in your life? That very cheering was the
cause of your being found out before you had time to close. You should
have shouted _vive la republique,_ as all their craft do when we engage
them. A regular English hurrah would split a Frenchman's throat."

"I believe we did make a mistake there, sir; but I never was in an
action in which we did not cheer; and when it got to be warm--or to
_seem_ warm--I forgot myself a little. But we should have had her, sir,
for all that, had it not been for one thing."

"And what is that, pray? You know, Griffin, I must have something
plausible to tell the admiral; it will never do to have it published in
the gazette that we were thrashed by our own hallooing."

"I was about to say, Captain Cuffe, that had not the lugger fired her
first broadside just as she did, and had she given us time to get out of
the range of her shot, we should have come in upon her before she could
have loaded again, and carried her in spite of the breeze that so much
favored her. Our having three men hurt in the launch made some
difference, too, and set as many oars catching crabs at a most critical
instant. Everything depends on chance in these matters, you know, sir,
and that was our bad luck."

"Umph! It will never do to tell Nelson that. 'Everything was going well,
my lord, until three of the launch's people went to work catching crabs
with their oars, which threw the boat astern.' No, no, _that_ will
never do for a gazette. Let me see, Griffin; after all, the lugger made
off from you; you would have had her had she not made sail and stood to
the southward and westward on a bowline."

"Yes, sir, she certainly did _that_. Had she not made sail as you say,
nothing could have prevented our getting alongside."

"Well, then, she ran. Wind sprung up, enemy made sail--every attempt to
get alongside unsuccessful. Brave fellows, cheering and doing their
utmost. Not so bad an account, after all, but how about that d--d
felucca? You see, she is burned to the water's edge and will go down in
a few minutes."

"Very true, Captain Cuffe, but not a Frenchman entered her while we were
there--"

"Yes, I now see how it was--threw all hands into the boats in chase, the
felucca being too unwieldy and every effort to get alongside
unsuccessful. He's a devil of a fellow, that Nelson and Bronte; and I
had rather hear the thunder of ten thousand tempests than get one of his
tempestuous letters. Well, I think I understand the affair now and shall
speak of you all as you deserve. 'Twas a gallant thing, though it
failed. You deserved success, whatever may have caused you to lose it."

In this Captain Cuffe was nearer right than in anything else he uttered
on the occasion.

CHAPTER X.

"Oh! 'tis a thought sublime, that man can force
A path upon the waste, can find a way
Where all is trackless, and compel the winds,
Those freest agents of Almighty power,
To lend them untamed wings, and bear him on
To distant climes."

WARE.

The situation of Ghita Caraccioli, on board the lugger, was of the most
unpleasant nature during the fierce struggle we have related.
Fortunately for her, this struggle was very short, Raoul having kept her
in profound ignorance of the approach of any danger until the instant le
Feu-Follet commenced her fire. It is true she heard the guns between the
felucca and the boats, but this she had been told was an affair in which
the privateer had no participation; and the reports sounding distant to
one in the cabin, she had been easily deceived. While the actual
conflict was going on, she was on her knees, at the side of her uncle;
and the moment it ceased, she appeared on deck, and interposed to save
the fugitives in the manner related.

Now, however, the scene was entirely changed. The lugger had escaped all
damage worthy of notice; her decks had not been stained with blood; and
her success had been as complete as could be desired. In addition to
these advantages, the result removed all apprehension from the only
source of danger that Raoul thought could exist as between his own
vessel and the frigate, of a boat-attack in a calm; for men who had just
been so roughly handled in an enterprise so well concealed would not be
likely to renew the attempt while they still smarted under the influence
of the late repulse. Affairs of this sort exact all the discipline and
resolution that a well-regulated service can afford; and are not to be
thought of under the temporary demoralization of defeat. All in the
lugger, therefore, considered this collision with the Proserpine at an
end, for the moment at least.

Ghita had dined, for the day had now turned some time, and the girl had
come on deck to escape the confinement of a very small cabin, leaving
her uncle to enjoy his customary _siesta_. She was seated under the
awning of the quarter-deck, using her needle, as was her wont at that
hour on the heights of Argentaro. Raoul had placed himself on a gunslide
near her, and Ithuel was busy within a few feet of them, dissecting a
spy-glass, with a view to clean its lenses.

"I suppose the most excellent Andrea Barrofaldi will sing a Te Deum for
his escape from our fangs," suddenly exclaimed Raoul, laughing.
"_Pardie!_ he is a great historian and every way fit to write an account
of this glorious victory, which Monsieur l'Anglais, _la bas_, is about
to send to his government!"

"And you, Raoul, have no occasion for a Te Deum after your escape?"
demanded Ghita, gently, and yet with emphasis. "Is there no God for you
to thank, as well as for the vice-governatore?"

"_Peste!_--our French deity is little thought of just now, Ghita.
Republics, as you know, have no great faith in religion--is it not so,
_mon brave Americain?_ Tell us, Etooel; have you any religion
in America?"

As Ithuel had often heard Raoul's opinions on this subject and knew the
prevailing state of France in this particular, he neither felt nor
expressed any surprise at the question. Still, the idea ran counter to
all his own notions and prejudices, he having been early taught to
respect religion, even when he was most serving the devil. In a word,
Ithuel was one of those descendants of Puritanism who, "God-ward," as it
is termed, was quite unexceptionable, so far as his theory extended, but
who, "manward," was "as the Scribes and Pharisees." Nevertheless, as he
expressed it himself, "he always stood up for religion," a fact that his
English companions had commented on in jokes, maintaining that he even
"stood up" when the rest of the ship's company were on their knees.

"I'm a little afraid, Monsieur Rule," he answered, "that in France you
have entered the rope of republicanism at the wrong end. In Ameriky, we
even put religion before dollars; and if that isn't convincing I'll give
it up. Now, I do wish you could see a Sunday once in the Granite State,
Signorina Ghita, that you might get some notion what our western
religion ra'ally is."

"All real religion--all real devotion to God--is, or ought to be, the
same, Signor Ithuello, whether in the east or in the west. A Christian
is a Christian, let him live or die where he may."

"That's not exactly platform, I fancy. Why, Lord bless ye, young lady,
_your_ religion, now, is no more like _mine_ than my religion is like
that of the Archbishop of Canterbury's, or Monsieur Rule's, here!"

"_La mienne_!" exclaimed Raoul--"I pretend to none, _mon brave_; there
can be no likeness to nothing."

Ghita's glance was kind, rather than reproachful; but it was profoundly
sorrowful.

"In what can our religion differ," she asked, "if we are both
Christians? Americans or Italians, it is all the same."

"That comes of knowing nothing about Ameriky," said Ithuel, filled with
the conceit of his own opinion of himself and of the part of the world
from which he came. "In the first place, you have a Pope and cardinals
and bishops and all such things in your religion, while we have none."

"Certainly, there is the Holy Father, and there are cardinals; but they
are not my religion," answered Ghita, looking surprised. "Bishops, it is
true, are appointed of God and form part of his church; and the bishop
of Rome is the head of the church on earth, but nothing more!"

"Nothing more! Don't you worship images, and take off and put on
garments at your prayers, and kneel down in a make-believe, profane
way: and don't you turn everything into vain ceremonies?"

Had Ithuel been engaged, body and soul, in maintaining one of the
propositions of the Oxford Tracts' controversy, he could not have
uttered these words with greater zeal or with a more self-righteous
emotion. His mind was stored with the most vulgar accusations of an
exceedingly vulgar set of sectarian distinctions; and he fancied it a
high proof of Protestant perfection to hold all the discarded usages in
abhorrence. On the other hand, Ghita listened with surprise; for, to
her, the estimation in which the rites of the Roman church are held by
the great bulk of Protestants was a profound secret. The idea of
worshipping an image never crossed her innocent mind; and although she
often knelt before her own little ivory crucifix, she had never supposed
any could be so ignorant as to confound the mere material representation
of the sacrifice it was meant to portray with the divine
expiation itself.

"It is decent to use proper vestments at the altar," she replied; "and
its servants ought not to be clad like other men. We know it is the
heart, the soul, that must be touched, to find favor with God; but this
does not make the outward semblance of respect that we show even to each
other the less necessary. As to worshipping images--that would be
idolatry; and as bad as the poor heathens themselves."

Ithuel looked mystified; for he never doubted in the least that the
worshipping of images was a material part of Catholic devotion; and, as
for the Pope and the cardinals, he deemed them all as indispensable to
the creed of this church, as he fancied it important in his own that the
priests should not wear gowns, and that the edifices in which they
worshipped should have square-topped windows. Absurd as all this may
seem to-day, and wicked as it will probably appear a century hence, it
formed, and forms, no small part of sectarian belief, and entered into
the animosities and jealousies of those who seem to think it necessary
to quarrel for the love of God. Could we but look back at our own
changes of opinion, it would render us less confident of the justice of
our sentiments; and, most of all, one would think that the American who
has lived long enough to witness the somersets that have been thrown in
the practices and creeds of most of the more modern sects of his own
country, within the last quarter of a century, would come to have
something like a suitable respect for the more stable and venerable
divisions of the Christian world.

"Proper vestments!" repeated Ithuel, with contempt; "what vestments are
wanting in the eyes of the Supreme Being? No; if I _must_ have
religion--and I know it's necessary and whullsom'--let it be a pure,
_naked_ religion that will stand to reason. Is not that your way of
thinking, Monsieur Rule?"

"_Ma foi, oui_. Reason before all things, Ghita; and, most of all,
reason in religion."

"Ah, Raoul! this it is which misleads and betrays you," returned the
girl, earnestly. "Faith and a meek dependence is what makes a proper
state of feeling; and yet you demand a reason of Him who created the
Universe and breathed into you the breath of life!"

"Are we not reasoning creatures, Ghita," returned Raoul, gently, and yet
with a sincerity and truth for the circumstances that rendered even his
scepticism piquant and respectable; "and is it unreasonable to expect us
to act up to our natures? Can I worship a God I do not understand?"

"Couldst thou worship one thou _didst_? He would cease to be a deity and
would become one of ourselves were his nature and attributes brought
down to the level of our comprehensions. Did one of thy followers come
on this quarter-deck and insist on hearing all thine own motives for the
orders given in this little felucca, how readily wouldst thou drive him
back as mutinous and insolent; and yet thou wouldst question the God of
the universe and pry into his mysteries!"

Raoul was mute, while Ithuel stared. It was so seldom that Ghita lost
her exceeding gentleness of manner that the flush of her cheek, the
severe earnestness of her eyes, the impassioned modulations of her
voice, and the emphasis with which she spoke on this occasion produced a
sort of awe that prevented the discourse from proceeding further, The
girl herself was so much excited, that, after sitting for a minute with
her hands before her face, the tears were seen forcing their way through
her fingers. She then arose, and darted into the cabin, Raoul was too
observant of the rules of propriety to think of following; but he sat
moody and lost in thought, until Ithuel drew his attention to himself.

"Gals will be gals," said that refined and philosophical observer of the
human family, "and nothing touches their natur's sooner than a little
religious excitement. I dare say, if it wasn't for images and cardinals
and bishops and such creatur's, the Italians (Ithuel always pronounced
this word _Eye_talians) would make a very good sort of Christians."

But Raoul was in no humor to converse, and as the hour had now arrived
when the zephyr was to be expected, he rose, ordered the awning to be
taken in, and prepared to make himself master of the state of things
around him. There lay the frigate, taking her siesta, like all near; her
three topsails standing, but every other sail that was loose hanging in
festoons, waiting for the breeze. Notwithstanding her careless
appearance, so closely had she been tended, for the last few hours,
however, and so sedulously had even the smallest breath of air been
improved, that Raoul started with surprise when he found how much nearer
she was than when he had last looked at her. The whole trick was
apparent to him at a glance, and he was compelled to acknowledge his own
remissness when he perceived that he lay within the reach of the shot of
his powerful foe, though still so distant as to render her also a little
uncertain, more especially should a set get up. The felucca had burnt
to the water's edge; but, owing to the smoothness of the water, her
wreck still floated and was slowly setting into the bay, there being a
slight current in that direction, where she now lay. The town was
basking in the afternoon's sun, though hid from view, and the whole
island of Elba had the appearance of being asleep.

"What a siesta!" said Raoul to Ithuel, as both stood on the heel of the
bowsprit, looking curiously at the scene: "sea, land, mountains,
bourgeois, and mariners all dozing. _Bien_; there is life yonder at the
west, and we must get further from _votre Proserpine_. Call the hands,
Monsieur Lieutenant. Let us get our sweeps and put the head of le
Feu-Follet the other way. _Peste_! the lugger is so sharp, and has such
a trick of going exactly where she looks, that I am afraid she has been
crawling up toward her enemy, as the child creeps into the fire that
burns its fingers."

All hands were soon in motion on board le Feu-Follet, the sweeps were on
the point of being handled, when the jigger fluttered and the first puff
of the expected western breeze swept along the surface of the waters. To
the seamen it was like inhaling oxygen gas. Every appearance of
drowsiness deserted the people of both vessels, and every one was
instantly busy in making sail. Raoul had a proof into what dangerous
proximity to the frigate he had got by the sound of the calls on board
her, and the stillness of the sea was yet so great that the creaking of
her fore-yard was actually audible to him as the English rounded in
their braces briskly while laying their foretopsail aback.

At that moment a second respiration of the atmosphere gave birth to the
breeze. Raoul whistled for the wind, and the lugger moved ahead, gliding
toward the frigate. But in half a minute she had gathered sufficient
way, her helm was put down, and she came round as easily and as
gracefully as the bird turns on his wing. Not so with the heavier
frigate. She had hauled in her starboard head-braces and had to get the
foretopsail aback, and to pay well off with her head to leeward, in
order to swing her yards and fill her sails, while le Feu-Follet was
slipping through the water, going seemingly into the wind's eye. By this
single evolution the lugger gained more than a cable's length on her
enemy, and five minutes more would have put her beyond all immediate
danger. But Captain Cuffe knew this as well as his competitor, and had
made his preparations accordingly. Keeping his head-yards aback, he
knocked his ship round off, until her broadside bore on the lugger, when
he let fly every gun of his starboard batteries, the utmost care having
been taken to make the shot tell. Twenty-two heavy round-shot coming in
at once upon a little craft like le Feu-Follet was a fearful visitation,
and the "boldest held their breath for a time" as the iron whirlwind
whistled past them. Fortunately the lugger was not hulled; but a grave
amount of mischief was done aloft. The jigger-mast was cut in two and
flew upward like a pipe-stem. A serious wound was given to the mainmast
below the hounds, and the yard itself was shivered in the slings. No
less than six shot plunged through both lugs, leaving holes in the
canvas that made it resemble a beggar's shirt, and the jib-stay was cut
in two half-way between the mast-head and the end of the bowsprit. No
one was hurt, and yet for a moment every one looked as if destruction
had suddenly lighted on the lugger. Then it was that Raoul came out in
his true colors. He knew he could not spare a stitch of canvas just at
that moment, but that on the next ten minutes depended everything.
Nothing was taken in, therefore, to secure spars and sails, but all was
left to stand, trusting to the lightness of the breeze, which usually
commenced very moderately. Hands were immediately set to work to get up
a new stay; a new main-yard and sail were got along, and everything was
prepared for hoisting both as soon as it could be ascertained that the
mast would bear them. Nearly similar preparations were made forward as
the shortest way of getting rid of the torn foresail; for that it was
the intention to unbend and bend, the yard being sound.

Luckily, Captain Cuffe determined to lose no more time with his guns,
but swinging his head-yards, the frigate came sweeping up to the wind,
and in three minutes everything was trimmed for the utmost. All this
time le Feu-Follet had not stood still. Her canvas fluttered, but it
held on, and even the spars kept their places, though so much injured.
In a word, the wind was not yet strong enough to tear the one or to
carry away the other. It was an advantage, too, that these casualties,
particularly the loss of her jigger, rendered le Feu-Follet less
weatherly than she would otherwise have been, since, by keeping the
frigate directly in her wake, she was less exposed to the chase-guns
than she would have been a little on either bow. Of this truth Raoul was
soon persuaded, the Proserpine beginning to work both her bow-guns, as
soon as she came to the wind, though neither exactly bore; the shot of
one ranging a little to windward and the other about as much on the
other side. By these shot, too, the young Frenchman soon had the
satisfaction of seeing that, notwithstanding her injuries, the lugger
was drawing ahead--a fact of which the English became so sensible
themselves that they soon ceased firing.

So far things went better than Raoul had reason at first to hope, though
he well knew that the crisis was yet to come. The westerly wind often
blew fresh at that period of the day, and should it now increase he
would require all his canvas to get clear of a ship with the known
qualities of the vessel in chase. How much longer his mast or his
mainyard would stand he did not know, but as he was fast gaining he
determined to make hay while the sun shone, and get far enough ahead, if
possible, before the breeze grew fresh, to enable him to shift his sails
and fish his spars without being again brought within the reach of
visitors as rude as those who had so lately come hurtling into his thin
hamper. The proper precautions were not neglected in the mean time. Men
were sent aloft to do what they could, under the circumstances, with the
two spars, and the strain was a little relieved by keeping the lugger as
much away as might be done without enabling the frigate to set her
studding-sails.

There is always something so exciting in a chase that seamen never fail
to wish for more wind, forgetful that the power which increases their
own speed may also increase the speed of the other party, and that, too,
in an undue proportion. It would have been more favorable to le
Feu-Follet to have had less wind than even now blew, since her relative
rate of sailing was greater in light than in strong breezes. Raoul knew,
from Ithuel's statements, that the Proserpine was an exceedingly fast
ship, more especially when it blew fresh; and yet it did not appear to
him that his lugger got along with sufficient speed, though his enemy
would be certain to follow at a rate of sailing in a just proportion to
his own, did there come more wind.

The wish of the young privateersman, however, was soon gratified. The
wind freshened materially, and by the time the two vessels opened the
Canal of Corsica, as the passage between that island and Elba is called,
the frigate was obliged to take in her royals and two or three of those
light and lofty staysails which it was then the custom for ships to
carry. At first Raoul had thought he might fetch into Bastia, which lies
due west of the southern end of Elba; but, though the wind drew a little
down through the canal, it soon blew too fresh to allow any formation of
the land materially to alter its current. The zephyr, as the afternoon's
summer breeze of southern Italy, in particular, was termed by the
ancients, is seldom a due west wind, there generally being a little
northing in it, as seamen say; and as one gets further up the coast this
same wind ordinarily comes round the head of Corsica, blowing from
nearly west-northwest. This would have enabled the lugger to lay her
course for a deep bay on which lies the town of Biguglia, could she have
been jammed up on a wind, as might usually have been done; but a few
minutes of experiment convinced Raoul that he must be more tender on his
wounded spars and keep off for the mouth of the Golo. This was a river
of some size into which it was possible for a vessel of a light draught
to enter; and, as there stood a small battery near the anchorage, he
determined to seek shelter in that haven in order to repair his damages.
His calculations were made accordingly, and, taking the snow-clad peaks
in the neighborhood of Corte as his landmarks, he ordered the lugger to
be steered in the proper direction.

On board the Proserpine, there was scarcely less interest felt in the
result than on board le Feu-Follet. If the people of the frigate had
nothing to apprehend, they had something to revenge; in addition to the
anticipated credit of having captured the boldest privateer that sailed
out of France. For a short time, as the ship came up with the west end
of Elba, it was a serious question whether she would be able to weather
it, the lugger having gone past, within a cable's length of the cliffs,
on the very verge of the breakers and much closer in than the frigate
would dare to follow. But the last had taken the breeze further off the
land than the first, and might possibly fetch past the promontory on the
tack she was then steering. To have gone about would have been to have
abandoned the chase, as it would have carried the ship off due north,
while le Feu-Follet was gliding down to the southward and westward at
the rate of seven knots. The distance across the canal is only about
thirty miles, and there would not have been time to recover the
lost ground.

This uncertainty made a most feverish moment on board the Proserpine,
as she came up fast toward the headland. All depended on getting by
without tacking. The appearances were favorable for deep water close in;
but there is always the danger of rocks to be dreaded near mountainous
coasts. The promontory, too, was comparatively low; and this was rather
an indication that it ought not to be approached too closely.
Winchester was in his berth, just beginning to feel the smart of his
wound; but Griffin was at the captain's elbow, both he and the third
lieutenant entering keenly into all their commander's wishes and
anxieties.

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