The Wing and Wing by J. Fenimore Cooper

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

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Ithuel was left in the fore-cabin, and his presence was announced to
Cuffe.

"It's no doubt some poor devil belonging to the Few-Folly's crew,"
observed the English Captain, in a rather compassionate manner, "and we
can hardly think of stringing _him_ up, most probably for obeying an
order. That would never do, Griffin: so we'll just step out and overhaul
his log in French, and send him off to England to a prison-ship, by the
first return vessel."

As this was said, the four in the after-cabin left it together and stood
before this new prisoner. Of course Ithuel understood all that was said
in English, while the very idea of being catechized in French threw him
into a cold sweat. In this strait the idea suddenly crossed his mind
that his greatest security would be in feigning dumbness.

"_Ecoutez, mon ami_" commenced Griffin, in very respectable
English-French, "you are to tell me nothing but the truth, and it may be
all the better for you. You belong to the Feu-Follet, of course?"

Ithuel shook his head in strong disgust and endeavored to make a sound
that he intended to represent a dumb man struggling to utter the
word "Napoli."

"What is the fellow after, Griffin?" said Cuffe. "Can it be he doesn't
understand French? Try him a touch in Italian, and let us see what he
will say to that."

Griffin repeated very much what he had said before, merely changing the
language, and received the same gagging sounds for an answer. The
gentlemen looked at each other, as much as to express their surprise.
But, unluckily for Ithuel's plan, he had brought with him from the
Granite State a certain propensity to pass all the modulations of his
voice through his nose; and the effort to make a suppressed sound
brought that member more than usually into requisition, thereby
producing a certain disagreeable combination that destroyed everything
like music that commonly characterizes the Italian words. Now, Andrea
had been struck with this peculiarity about the tones of the American's
voice, in the interview at Benedetta's wine-house; and the whole
connection between Raoul and this singular person being associated in
his mind, the truth flashed on him, as it might be, at a glance. His
previous success that night emboldened the worthy vice-governatore, and,
without any remark, he walked steadily up to Ithuel, removed the wig,
and permitted the eel-skin queue to resume its natural position on the
back of its owner.

"Ha!--What, veechy," exclaimed Cuffe, laughing--"you unearth them like
so many foxes to-night. Now, Griffin, hang me if I do not think I've
seen that chap before! Isn't he the very man we found at the wheel of la
Voltigeuse, when we boarded her?"

"Lord bless me, Captain Cuffe--no, sir. This fellow is as long as two of
that chap--and yet I know the face too. I wish you'd let me send for one
of the young gentlemen, sir; they're worth all the rest of the ship at
remembering faces."

The permission was given, and the cabin-steward was sent on deck to
desire Mr. Roller, one of the oldest midshipmen, and who was known to
have the watch, to come below.

"Look at this fellow, Mr. Roller," said Griffin, as soon as the
youngster had taken his place in the group, "and tell us if you can make
anything of him."

"It's the lazy-rony, sir, we hoisted in a bit ago when we struck the
boat on deck."

"Aye, no doubt of that--but we think we have seen his face before;--can
_you_ make that out?"

Roller now walked round the immovable subject of all these remarks; and
he, too, began to think the singular-looking object was no stranger to
him. As soon, however, as he got a sight of the queue, he struck Ithuel
a smart slap on the shoulder and exclaimed:

"You're welcome back, my lad! I hope you'll find your berth aloft as
much to your mind as it used to be. This is Bolt, Captain Cuffe, the
foretop-man, who ran from us when last in England, was caught and put in
a guard-ship, from which they sent us word he stole a boat and got off
with two or three French prisoners, who happened to be there at the
moment on some inquiry or other. Don't you remember it all, Mr.
Griffin--you may remember the fellow pretended to be an American."

Ithuel was now completely exposed, and he at once perceived that his
wisest way was to submit. Cuffe's countenance darkened, for he regarded
a deserter with a species of professional horror, and the impressed
deserter, to whose services England had no other right than that of
might, with an additional degree of resentment, that was very fairly
proportioned to the inward consciousness he felt that a great wrong was
done in detaining the man at all. There is nothing extraordinary in
these feelings; a very common resource, under such circumstances, being
to imagine delinquencies that justify us to ourselves, by endeavoring to
believe that the subject of any act of our oppression at least merits
the infliction.

"Do you dare to deny what this young gentleman has just said, sirrah?"
demanded the captain. "I now remember you myself; you are Bolt, the
foretop-man, that ran at Plymouth."

"You'd a-run, too, Captain Cuffe, had you been in my place, had the ship
been at Jericho."

"Enough--no impudence, sir. Send for the master-at-arms, Mr. Griffin,
and have the fellow ironed: to-morrow we'll look into the affair."

These orders were obeyed, and Ithuel was removed to the place where the
master-at-arms usually reigns on board ship. Cuffe now gave the
lieutenant his conge, and then withdrew to the inner-cabin, to prepare a
despatch for the rear-admiral. He was near an hour writing a letter to
his mind, but finally succeeded. Its purport was as follows: He reported
the capture of Raoul, explaining the mode and the circumstances under
which that celebrated privateersman had fallen into his hands. He then
asked for instructions as to the manner in which he was to dispose of
his prisoner. Having communicated this important fact, he ventured some
suggestions as to the probable vicinity of the lugger, and the hopes he
entertained of being able to find out her precise situation, through the
agency of Bolt, whose condition he also explained, hinting at the same
time the expediency of bringing both delinquents to as speedy trials as
possible, as the most certain manner of using their apprehensions in
seizing le Feu-Follet. The letter concluded with an earnest request that
another frigate, which was mentioned, her captain being junior to Cuffe,
and a fast-sailing sloop that was lying off Naples might be sent down to
assist him in "heading off" the lugger, as he feared the latter was too
swift to be overtaken by the Proserpine alone, more especially in the
light winds which prevailed.

When this letter was written, addressed, and sealed, Cuffe went on deck
again. It was now nine o'clock, or two bells, and Winchester had the
quarter-deck nearly to himself. All was as tranquil and calm on the deck
of that fine frigate as a moonlight night, a drowsy watch, a light wind,
and smooth water could render things in a bay like that of Naples.
Gleamings of fire were occasionally seen over Vesuvius, but things in
that direction looked misty and mysterious, though Capri loomed up, dark
and grand, a few miles to leeward, and Ischia was visible, a confused
but distant pile on the lee-bow. An order from Cuffe, however, set
everybody in motion. Yard and stay-tackles were overhauled and hooked
on, the boatswain's-mate piped the orders, and the first cutter was
hoisted over the waist cloths, and lowered into the water. "Away, there,
you first cutters," had been hoarsely called on the berth-deck, and the
crew were ready to enter the boat by the time the latter was lowered.
The masts were stepped, Roller appeared, in a pea-jacket, to guard
against the night air, and Cuffe gave him his instructions.

"Set your sails and stretch over under the north shore, Mr. Roller,"
said the captain, who stood in the lee-gangway, to give a last word.
"You will fetch in about Queen Joan's Palace. There, you had better take
to your oars and pull up along the land. Remember, sir, to join us by
the first ship that comes out; and, if none is sent, to come down with
the morning breeze in the boat."

Roller gave the customary "Aye, aye, sir"; the boat shoved off; as soon
as from under the lee of the ship the lugs were set, and half an hour
later the night had swallowed up her form. Cuffe remained an hour
longer, walking the deck with his first-lieutenant; and then, satisfied
that the night would prove propitious, he went below, leaving orders to
keep the ship lying-to until morning.

As for Roller, he pulled alongside of the Foudroyant just as the bells
of the fleet were striking eight, or midnight. Nelson was still up,
writing in his cabin. The despatch was delivered, and then the secretary
of the admiral and a clerk or two were called from their berths, for
nothing lagged that this active-minded man had in charge. Orders were
written, copied, signed, and sent to different ships by two o'clock,
that the morning breeze might not be lost; and not till then did the
employes think of rest.

Roller left the flag-ship at two, having eaten a hearty supper in
Nelson's own cabin, and repaired on board the Terpsichore, a smart
little frigate of thirty-two guns, twelve pounders, with instructions to
her captain to receive him. Two hours later this ship, in company with
another still smaller, the Ringdove, 18, left her anchorage, under a
cloud of canvas, and stood down the bay, carrying studding-sails on both
sides, with a light wind at northwest, heading toward Capri.

CHAPTER XVII.

"Speak to the business, Master Secretary:
Why are we met in council?"

_King Henry VIII._

When the idlers of the Proserpine appeared on deck the following
morning, the ship was about a league to windward of Capri, having forged
well over toward the north side of the bay during the night, wore round
and got thus far back on the other tack. From the moment light returned
lookouts had been aloft with glasses, examining every nook and corner of
the bay, in order to ascertain whether any signs of the lugger were to
be seen under its bold and picturesque shore. So great is the extent of
this beautiful basin, so grand the natural objects which surround it,
and so clear the atmosphere, that even the largest ships loom less than
usual on its waters; and it would have been a very possible thing for le
Feu-Follet to anchor near some of the landings, and lie there unnoticed
for a week by the fleet above, unless tidings were carried to the latter
by observers on the shore.

Cuffe was the last to come on deck, six bells, or seven o'clock,
striking as the group on the quarter-deck first lifted their hats to
him. He glanced around him, and then turned toward Griffin, who was now
officer of the watch.

"I see two ships coming down the bay, Mr. Griffin," he said--"no signals
yet, I suppose, sir?"

"Certainly not, sir, or they would have been reported. We make out the
frigate to be the Terpsichore, and the sloop, I know by her new royals,
is the Ringdove. The first ship, Captain Cuffe, brags of being able to
travel faster than anything within the Straits!"

"I'll bet a month's pay the Few-Folly walks away from her on a bowline,
ten knots to her nine. If she can do that with the Proserpine, she'll at
least do that with Mistress Terpsichore. There goes a signal from the
frigate now, Mr. Griffin, though a conjuror could hardly read it,
tailing directly on as it does. Well, quartermaster, what do you make it
out to be?"

"It's the Terpsichore's number, sir; and the other ship has just made
the Ringdove's."

"Show ours, and keep a sharp lookout; there'll be something else to tell
us presently."

In a few minutes the Terpsichore expressed a wish to speak the
Proserpine, when Cuffe filled his main-topsail and hauled close upon a
wind. An hour later the three ships passed within hail of each other,
when both the junior commanders lowered their gigs and came on board the
Proserpine to report.

Roller followed in the first cutter, which had been towed down by the
Terpsichore.

The Terpsichore was commanded by Captain Sir Frederick Dashwood, a
lively young baronet, who preferred the active life of a sailor to
indolence and six thousand a year on shore; and who had been rewarded
for his enterprise by promotion and a fast frigate at the early age of
two and twenty. The Ringdove was under a master-commandant of the name
of Lyon, who was just sixty years old, having worked his way up to his
present rank by dint of long and arduous services, owing his last
commission and his command to the accident of having been a first
lieutenant at the battle of Cape St. Vincent. Both these gentlemen
appeared simultaneously on the quarter-deck of the Proserpine, where
they were duly received by the captain and all the assembled officers.

"Good morrow to you, Cuffe," said Dashwood, giving the other the tip of
his fingers, as soon as the ceremonious part of the reception was over;
and casting a glance, half admiring, half critical, at the appearance of
things on deck--"What has Nelson sent us down here about this fine
morning, and--ha!--how long have you had those brass ornaments on
your capstan?"

"They were only put there yesterday, Sir Frederick; a little slush
money did it all."

"Has Nelson seen them? I rather fancy not--they tell me he's as savage
as an Arab about knick-knackery nowadays. What an awkward job that was
yesterday afternoon, by the way, Cuffe!"

"It has been a bad business, and, as an old Agamemnon, I would give a
year's rank that it never had taken place."

"A year's rank!--that's a great deal; a year would set me back, hard
aground alongside of old Lyon, here. I was a lieutenant less than three
years since and couldn't afford half a year. But all you old Agamemnons
think as much of your little Nel. as if he were a pretty girl; isn't it
true, Lyon?"

"I dare say it may be, Sir Frederick," answered Lyon; "and if you had
been the first lieutenant of a two-decker, off Cape St. Vincent, on the
14th February, 1797, you would have thought as much of him too. Here we
were, only fifteen sail in all--that is, of vessels of the line--with
the wind at--"

"Oh, hang your battle, Lyon, I've heard all that at least seventeen
times!"

"Well, if ye haave, Sir Frederick," returned Lyon, who was a Scotchman,
"it'll be just once a year since ye war' born, leaving out the time ye
war' in the nursery. But we've not come here to enlighten Captain Cuffe
in these particulars, so much as in obedience to an order of the
rear-admiral's--little Nel., as ye'll be calling him, I suppose, Sir
Frederick Dashwood?"

"Nay, it's you old Agamemnons, or old fellows, who gave him that name--"

"Ye'll please to excuse me, sir," interrupted Lyon, a little
dogmatically--"ye've never heard me call him anything but my lord, since
His Majesty, God bless him! was graciously pleased to elevate him to the
peerage--nothing but 'my lord,' and the 'rear-admiral'; naval rank being
entitled to its privileges even on the throne. Many a king has been a
colonel, and I see no disparagement in one's being an admiral. Won't ye
be thinking, Captain Cuffe, that since my lord is made Duke of Bronte,
he is entitled to be called 'Your Grace'--all the Scottish dukes are so
designated, and I see no reason why the rear-admiral should not have his
just dues as well as the best of them."

"Let him alone for that," said Cuffe, laughing; "Nel. will look out for
himself, as well as for the king. But, gentlemen, I suppose you have not
come down here merely for a morning walk--have I any reports to hear?"

"I beg your pardon, Captain Cuffe, but I was really forgetting my
errand," answered Dashwood. "Here are your orders, and we are both
directed to report to you. The lieutenant who brought the package aboard
_me_ said there would be a spy to try, and a lugger to catch. Did they
tell you anything of this matter, Lyon?"

"No, Sir Frederick; not being inquisitive, I hear but little of what is
going on in the fleet. My orders are to report myself and ship to
Captain Cuffe, for service, which I have the honor now to do."

"Well, gentlemen, here are further instructions for you. This is an
order to hold a court, composed of Captain Richard Cuffe, of the
Proserpine, president; Captain Sir Frederick Dashwood, Bart., of the
Terpsichore, etc., etc.; and Lyon, Winchester, and Spriggs, your
first-lieutenant, Sir Frederick, for the trials of Raoul Yvard, a French
citizen, on the charge of being a spy, and Ithuel Bolt, seaman, etc., on
the charge of being a deserter. Here is everything in rule, and there
are your respective orders, gentlemen."

"Bless me, I'd no notion of this!" exclaimed Lyon, who was greatly
averse to this part of an officer's duty. "I'd thought it altogether a
trial of speed after a Frenchman, for which purpose the rear-admiral, or
my lord, or his grace, whichever it may be right to call him, had seen
fit to bring three of his fastest ships together."

"I wish it was nothing but the last, Captain Lyon; but we have the
disagreeable duty of trying a spy and a deserter before us. You will
return to your ships, gentlemen, and follow us in to an anchorage. I
intend to bring up at a single anchor under the shore at Capri, where we
can lie during the calm and get through with our courts. The cases will
be clear and not detain us long, and we can send lookouts up on the
heights to examine the sea and the coast outside. In the mean time, we
must be busy lest we lose the breeze. You will attend to the signal for
the court."

At this order the two visitors got into their boats, and the Proserpine
again filled. The three vessels now made the best of their way toward
the point of destination, anchoring off the town or village in the
island of Capri, just as two bells struck. Ten minutes later, the
Proserpine fired a gun, and ran up the flag which denotes the sitting of
a court-martial.

Although it has not been deemed necessary to relate them, the reader
will understand that all the details required by the law had been
observed as regards these trials; the promptitude of the proceedings
being partly characteristic of the decision of the admiral, but more in
consequence of a wish to use the charges against the delinquents as a
means of seizing the true hero of our tale, the little Feu-Follet. While
a mistaken, not to say a mawkish, philanthropy is unsettling so many of
the ancient land-marks of society, and, among other heresies, is
preaching the doctrine that "the object of punishment is the reformation
of the criminal," it is a truth which all experience confirms that
nothing renders justice so terrible, and consequently so efficient, as
its promptitude and certainty. When all its requirements are observed,
the speediest exercise of its functions is the most conducive to the
protection of society, the real motive for the existence of all human
regulations of this nature; and it is a great merit of the much-abused
English ordinances, that the laws are rarely made stalking-horses for
the benefit of the murderer or the forger; but that once fairly tried
and convicted, the expiation of their crimes awaits the offenders with a
certainty and energy that leave the impression on the community that
punishments were intended to produce. That this people has done well in
liberating itself from many of their inherited usages and laws, is as
certain as that one age has interests different from another; one set of
circumstances governing principles at variance with those which preceded
them; but it would be well also to remember that, while moral changes
are as necessary as physical exercise, there are truths that are
eternal, and rules of right and prudence which can never be departed
from with impunity.

When the members of the court mentioned assembled in the cabin of the
Proserpine, it was with all the forms and exterior observances that were
necessary to command respect. The officers were in full dress, the oaths
were administered with solemnity, the table was arranged with taste, and
an air of decent gravity reigned over all. Little time, however, was
lost unnecessarily, and the officer to whom had been assigned the duty
of prevot-marshal was directed to produce his prisoners.

Raoul Yvard and Ithuel Bolt were brought into the cabin at the same
moment, though they came from different parts of the ship, and were
allowed to hold no communication with each other. When both were
present, they were arraigned, and the accusations were read to them.
Raoul having admitted his knowledge of English, no interpreter was
sworn, but the proceedings were had in the usual manner. As it was
intended to try the Frenchman first, and Ithuel might be wanted as a
witness, the latter was taken out of the cabin again, courts-martial
never permitting one witness to hear what another has testified,
although an ingenious substitute for ears has been adopted of late, by
publishing in the journals, from day to day, whatever passes, when the
length of the proceedings will admit of such a device.

"We will now swear the Signor Andrea Barrofaldi," commenced the Judge
Advocate, as soon as the preliminaries were observed. "This is a
Catholic bible, sir, and I will put the oaths in Italian if you will
have the goodness first to swear me in as an interpreter."

This was done, when the oath was duly administered to the
vice-governatore. Then came a few questions as to the station, country,
etc., of the witness, after which more material matter was
inquired into.

"Signor Vice-Governatore, do you know the prisoner by sight?" demanded
the Judge Advocate.

"Sir, I have had the honor to receive him in my residence in the island
of Elba."

"Under what name and circumstances was he known to you, Signore?"

"Eh--he called himself Sir Smees, a capitano in the service of the
English king."

"What vessel did he pretend to command?"

"Ze Ving-y-Ving--a lugger, which I have since had reason to think is le
Feu-Follet, a corsair under the French flag. Monsieur did me the favor
to make two visits to Porto Ferrajo in the character of Sir Smees."

"And you know now that this is Raoul Yvard, the French privateersman you
have mentioned?"

"Eh--_know?_--I know they _say_ this is the Signor Yvard, and that ze
Ving-y-Ving is le Feu-Follet."

"They _say_ will not do, Signor Barrofaldi. Can you not say this much of
your own knowledge?"

"Non, Signore."

The court was now cleared; when it re-opened Vito Viti was sent for and
properly sworn, his attention being particularly directed to the cross
on the back of the book.

"Did you ever see the prisoner before this occasion, Signor Viti?"
demanded the Judge Advocate, after the preliminary questions had
been put.

"Signore, oftener than it is agreeable to remember. I do not think that
two grave magistrates were ever more mystified than were the
vice-governatore and myself! Eh-h-h--Signori, the wisest sometimes
become like sucking children, when there passes a mist before the
understanding."

"Relate the circumstances under which this occurred, to the court,
Signor Podesta."

"Why, Signori, the facts were just these. Andrea Barrofaldi, as you
know, is the vice-governatore of Porto Ferrajo, and I am its unworthy
podesta. Of course it is our duty to look into all matters affecting the
public weal, and more especially into the business and occupations of
strangers who come into our island. Well, it is now three weeks or more
since the lugger or felucca was seen--"

"Which was it, a felucca or a lugger?" demanded the Judge Advocate,
holding his pen ready to write the answer.

"Both, Signore; a felucca and a lugger."

"Ah--there were two; a felucca and a lugger."

"No, Signore; but this felucca was a lugger. Tommaso Tonti wished to
mystify me about that, too; but I have not been podesta in a seaport so
many years for nothing. No, Signori, there are all sorts of
feluccas--ship-feluccas, brig-feluccas, and lugger-feluccas."

When this answer was translated, the members of the court smiled, while
Raoul Yvard laughed out honestly.

"Well, Signor Podesta," resumed the Judge Advocate--"the prisoner came
into Porto Ferrajo in a lugger?"

"So it was said, Signore. I did not see him actually on board of her,
but he professed to be the commander of a certain vessel, in the service
of the King of Inghilterra, called ze Ving-y-Ving, and said that his own
name was Smees--si--il capitano, or Sir Smees."

"Professed? Do you not know that this lugger was the notorious French
privateer, le Feu-Follet?"

"I know they say so now, Signori; but the vice-governatore and I
supposed her to be ze Ving-y-Ving."

"And do you not know that the prisoner is actually Raoul Yvard; of your
own knowledge, I mean?"

"Corpo di Bacco!--How should I know any such thing, Signor
Guideca-Avvocato," exclaimed Vito Viti, who literally translated what he
understood to be the title of his interrogator, thereby converting him
into a sort of ship-felucca--"how should I know any such thing? I do
not keep company with corsairs, except when they come upon, our island
and call themselves 'Sir Smees.'"

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