The Wing and Wing by J. Fenimore Cooper

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

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"Jack, my honest fellow, there is good stuff in you yet, if you will
only give it fair play. Make a manly rally, respect yourself for a few
months, and something will turn up that will yet give you your Jane, and
gladden your old mother's heart."

There are periods in the lives of men, when a few kind words, backed by
a friendly act or two, might save thousands of human beings from
destruction. Such was the crisis in the fate of Clinch. He had almost
given up hope, though it did occasionally revive in him whenever he got
a cheering letter from the constant Jane, who pertinaciously refused to
believe anything to his prejudice, and religiously abstained from all
reproaches. But it is necessary to understand the influence of rank on
board a man-of-war, fully to comprehend the effect which was now
produced on the master's-mate by the captain's language and manner.
Tears streamed out of the eyes of Clinch, and he grasped the hand of his
commander almost convulsively.

"What can I do, sir? Captain Cuffe, what can I do?" he exclaimed. "My
duty is never neglected; but there _are_ moments of despair, when I find
the burden too hard to be borne, without calling upon the bottle
for support."

"Whenever a man drinks with such a motive, Clinch, I would advise him to
abstain altogether. He cannot trust himself; and that which he terms his
friend is, in truth, his direst enemy. Refuse your rations, even;
determine to be free. One week, nay, one day, may give a strength that
will enable you to conquer, by leaving your reason unimpaired. Absence
from the ship has accidentally befriended you--for the little you have
taken here has not been sufficient to do any harm. We are now engaged on
a most interesting duty, and I will throw service into your way that may
be of importance to you. Get your name once fairly in a despatch, and
your commission is safe. Nelson loves to prefer old tars; and nothing
would make him happier than to be able to serve _you_. Put it in my
power to ask it of him, and I'll answer for the result. Something may
yet come out of your visit to the cottage of this woman, and do you be
mindful to keep yourself in fortune's way."

"God bless you, Captain Cuffe--God bless you, sir," answered Clinch,
nearly choked; "I'll endeavor to do as you wish."

"Remember Jane and your mother. With such a woman dependent for her
happiness on his existence, a man must be a brute not to struggle hard."

Clinch groaned--for Cuffe probed his wound deep; though it was done with
an honest desire to cure. After wiping the perspiration from his face,
and writhing on his chair, however, he recovered a little of his
self-command, and became comparatively composed.

"If a friend could only point out the way by which I might recover some
of the lost ground," he said, "my gratitude to him would last as long as
life, Captain Cuffe."

"Here is an opening then, Clinch. Nelson attaches as much importance to
our catching this lugger as he ever did to falling in with a fleet. The
officer who is serviceable on this occasion may be sure of being
remembered, and I will give you every chance in my power. Go, dress
yourself in your best; make yourself look as you know you can; then be
ready for boat service. I have some duty for you now, which will be but
the beginning of good luck, if you only remain true to your mother, to
Jane, and to yourself."

A new life was infused into Clinch. For years he had been
overlooked--apparently forgotten, except when thorough seamanship was
required; and even his experiment of getting transferred to a vessel
commanded by an old messmate had seemingly failed. Here was a change,
however, and a ray, brighter than common, shone athwart the darkness of
his future. Even Cuffe was struck with the cheerfulness of his
countenance, and the alacrity of the master's-mate's movements, and he
reproached himself with having so long been indifferent to the best
interests of one who certainly had some claims on his friendship. Still,
there was nothing unusual in the present relations between these old
messmates. Favored by family and friends, Cuffe had never been permitted
to fall into despondency, and had pursued his career successfully and
with spirit; while the other unsupported, and failing of any immediate
opportunity for getting ahead, had fallen into evil ways, and come to
be, by slow degrees, the man he was. Such instances as the latter are of
not unfrequent occurrence even in a marine in which promotion is as
regular as our own, though it is rare indeed that a man recovers his
lost ground when placed in circumstances so trying.

In half an hour Clinch was ready, dressed in his best. The gentlemen of
the quarter-deck saw all these preparations with surprise; for, of late,
the master's-mate had seldom been seen in that part of the ship at all.
But, in a man-of-war, discipline is a matter of faith, and no one
presumed to ask questions. Clinch was closeted with the captain for a
few minutes, received his orders, and went over the ship's side with a
cheerful countenance, actually entering the captain's gig, the
fastest-rowing boat of the ship. As soon as seated, he shoved off, and
held his way toward the point of Campanella, then distant about three
leagues. No one knew whither he was bound, though all believed it was on
duty that related to the lugger, and duty that required a seaman's
judgment. As for Cuffe, his manner, which-had begun to be uneasy and
wandering, became more composed when he saw his old messmate fairly off,
and that, too, at a rate which would carry him even to Naples in the
course of a few hours, should his voyage happen to be so long.

CHAPTER XXI.

"His honor's linked
Unto his life; he that will seek the one
Must venture for the other, or lose both."

TATHAM.

It was now certain that le Feu-Follet was not in the Bay of Salerno. By
means of the lofty spars of the ship, and the aid of glasses, the whole
coast had been effectually surveyed, and no signs of such a craft were
visible. Even Lyon had given it up, had wore round, and was standing
along the land again, toward Campanella, a disappointed man. As Cuffe
expected the next wind from the westward, he continued on to the
northward, however, intending to go off Amalfi and question any
fisherman he might fall in with. Leaving the ship slowly pursuing her
course in that direction, then, we will turn our attention to the state
of the prisoners.

Ghita and her uncle had been properly cared for all this time. The
gunner's wife lived on board, and, being a respectable woman, Cuffe had
the delicacy to send the poor girl forward to the state-room and mess of
this woman. Her uncle was provided for near by, and, as neither was
considered in any degree criminal, it was the intention to put them
ashore as soon as it was certain that no information concerning the
lugger was to be obtained from them. Ithuel was at duty again, having
passed half the morning in the fore-top. The shore-boat, which was in
the way on deck, was now struck into the water, and was towing astern,
in waiting for the moment when Carlo Giuntotardi and his niece were to
be put in possession of it again, and permitted to depart. This moment
was delayed, however, until the ship should again double Campanella, and
be once more in the Bay of Naples, as it would have been cruel to send
two such persons as the uncle and niece adrift at any material distance
from their proper place of landing.

It was very different with Raoul Yvard, however. He was under the charge
of a sentry on the berth-deck, in waiting for the fearful moment when he
should be brought forth for execution. His sentence was generally known
in the ship, and with a few he was an object of interest; though
punishment, deaths in battle, and all the other casualties of nautical
life, were much too familiar in such a war to awaken anything like a
sensation in an active cruising frigate. Still, some had a thought for
the prisoner's situation. Winchester was a humane man, and, to his
credit, he bore no malice for his own defeat and sufferings; while in
his capacity of first lieutenant it was in his power to do much toward
adding to the comfort of the condemned. He had placed the prisoner
between two open ports, where the air circulated freely, no trifling
consideration in so warm a climate, and had ordered a canvas bulkhead
to be placed around him, giving Raoul the benefit of a state-room for
his meditations at so awful a moment. His irons, too, had been removed
as useless; though care had been had to take away from the prisoner
everything by which he might attempt his own life. The probability of
his jumping through a port had been discussed between the first and
second lieutenants; but the sentry was admonished to be on his guard
against any such attempt, and little apprehension was felt, Raoul being
so composed and so unlikely to do anything precipitately. Then it would
be easy to pick him up, while the vessel moved so slowly. To own the
truth, too, many would prefer his drowning himself, to seeing him
swinging at a yard-arm.

In this narrow prison, then, Raoul passed the night and morning. It
would be representing him as more stoical than the truth, if we said he
was unmoved. So far from this, his moments were bitter, and his anguish
would have been extreme, were it not for a high resolution which
prompted him to die, as he fancied it, like _un Francais_. The numerous
executions by the guillotine had brought fortitude under such
circumstances into a sort of fashion, and there were few who did not
meet death with decorum. With our prisoner, however, it was still
different; for, sustained by a dauntless spirit, he would have faced the
great tyrant of the race, even in his most ruthless mood, with firmness,
if not with disdain. But, to a young man and a lover, the last great
change could not well approach without bringing with it a feeling of
hopelessness that, in the case of Raoul, was unrelieved by any cheering
expectations of the future. He fully believed his doom to be sealed, and
that less on account of his imaginary offence as a spy than on account
of the known and extensive injuries he had done to the English commerce.
Raoul was a good hater; and, according to the fashion of past times,
which we apprehend, in spite of a vast deal of equivocal philanthropy
that now circulates freely from mouth to mouth, and from pen to pen,
will continue to be the fashion of times to come, he heartily disliked
the people with whom he was at war, and consequently was ready to
believe anything to their prejudice that political rivalry might invent;
a frame of mind that led him to think his life would be viewed as a
trifle, when put in the scales against English ascendency or English
profit. He was accustomed to think of the people of Great Britain as a
"nation of shopkeepers," and, while engaged himself in a calling that
bears the brand of rapacity on its very brow, he looked upon his own
pursuit as comparatively martial and honorable; qualities, in sooth, it
was far from being without, as he himself had exercised its functions.
In a word, Raoul understood Cuffe as little as Cuffe understood him;
facts that will sufficiently appear in the interview which it has now
become our office to relate.

The prisoner received one or two friendly visits in the course of the
morning; Griffin, in particular, conceiving it to be his duty to try to
cheer the condemned man, on account of his own knowledge of foreign
tongues. On these occasions the conversation was prevented from falling
into anything like the sombre, by the firmness of the prisoner's manner.
With a view to do the thing handsomely, Winchester had caused the canvas
bulkhead to include the guns on each side, which of course gave more air
and light within the narrow apartment, as it brought both ports into the
little room. Raoul adverted to this circumstance as, seated on one
stool, he invited Griffin, in the last of his visits, to take another.

"You find me here, supported by a piece of eighteen on each side,"
observed the prisoner, smiling, "as becomes a seaman who is about to
die. Were my death to come from the mouths of your cannon, Monsieur
Lieutenant, it would only meet me a few months, or perhaps a few days,
sooner than it might happen by the same mode in the ordinary course
of events."

"We know how to feel for a brave man in your situation." answered
Griffin, with emotion; and nothing would make us all happier than to
have it as you say; you in a good warm frigate, on our broadside, and we
in this of our own, contending fairly for the honor of our respective
countries."

"Monsieur, the fortune of war has ordered it otherwise--but, you are not
seated, Monsieur Lieutenant."

"_Mon pardon_--Captain Cuffe has sent me to request you will favor him
with your company, in his cabin, as soon as it may be agreeable to
yourself, Monsieur Yvard."

There is something in the polished expressions of the French language,
that would have rendered it difficult for Griffin to have been other
than delicate in his communications with the prisoner, had he been so
disposed; but such was not his inclination; for, now that their gallant
adversary was at their mercy, all the brave men in the Proserpine felt a
disposition to deal tenderly with him. Raoul was touched with these
indications of generosity, and, as he had witnessed Griffin's spirit in
the different attempts made on his lugger, it inclined him to think
better of his foes. Rising, he professed his readiness to attend the
captain at that very moment.

Cuffe was waiting in the after-cabin. When Griffin and the prisoner
entered, he courteously requested both to be seated, the former being
invited to remain, not only as a witness of what might occur, but to act
as an interpreter in case of need. A short pause succeeded, and then the
captain opened the dialogue, which was carried on in English, with
occasional assistance from Griffin, whenever it became necessary.

"I greatly regret, Monsieur Yvard, to see a brave man in your
situation," commenced Cuffe, who, sooth to say, apart from the
particular object he had in view, uttered no more than the truth. "We
have done full justice to your spirit and judgment, while we have tried
the hardest to get you into our power. But the laws of war are severe,
necessarily, and we English have a commander-in-chief who is not
disposed to trifle in matters of duty."

This was said, partly in policy, and partly from a habit of standing in
awe of the character of Nelson, Raoul received it, however, in the most
favorable light; though the politic portion of the motive was altogether
thrown away, as will be seen in the sequel.

"Monsieur, _un Francais_ knows how to die in the cause of liberty and
his country," answered Raoul, courteously, yet with emphasis.

"I do not doubt it, Monsieur; still, I see no necessity of pushing
things to that extremity, England is as liberal of her rewards as she is
powerful to resent injuries. Perhaps some plan may be adopted which will
avert the necessity of sacrificing the life of a brave roan in so
cruel a mode."

"I shall not affect to play the hero, Monsieur le Capitaine. If any
proper mode of relieving me, in my present crisis, can be discovered, my
gratitude will be in proportion to the service rendered."

"This is talking sensibly, and to the purpose; I make no doubt, when we
come to right understanding, everything will be amicably arranged
between us. Griffin, do me the favor to help yourself to a glass of wine
and water, which you will find refreshing this warm day. Monsieur Yvard
will join us; the wine coming from Capri, and being far from bad; though
some do prefer the Lachrymae Christi that grows about the foot of
Vesuvius, I believe."

Griffin did as desired, though his own countenance was far from
expressing all the satisfaction that was obvious in the face of Cuffe.
Raoul declined the offer; waiting for the forthcoming explanation with
an interest he did not affect to conceal. Cuffe seemed disappointed and
reluctant to proceed; but, finding his two companions silent, he was
obliged to make his proposal.

"_Qui, Monsieur_" he added, "England is powerful to resent, but ready
to forgive. Your are very fortunate in having it in your power, at so
serious a moment, to secure her pardon for an offence that is always
visited in war with a punishment graver than any other."

"In what way can this be done, Monsieur le Capitaine? I am not one who
despises life; more especially when it is in danger of being lost by a
disgraceful death."

"I am rejoiced, Monsieur Yvard, to find you in this frame of mind; it
will relieve me from the discharge of a most painful duty, and be the
means of smoothing over many difficulties. Without doubt, you have heard
of the character of our celebrated Admiral Nelson?"

"His name is known to every seaman, Monsieur," answered Raoul, stiffly;
his natural antipathies being far from cured by the extremity of his
situation. "He has written it on the waters of the Nile, in letters
of blood!"

"Aye, his deeds _there_, or elsewhere, will not soon be forgotten. He is
a man of an iron will; when his heart is set on a thing, he sticks at no
risk to obtain it, especially if the means be lawful, and the end is
glory. To be frank, Monsieur, he wishes much for your lugger, the le
Few Folly."

"Ah!" exclaimed Raoul, smiling ironically--"Nelson is not the only
English admiral who has had the same desire. Le Feu-Follet, Monsieur le
Capitaine, is so charming, that she has many admirers!"

"Among whom Nelson is one of the warmest. Now, this makes your case so
much the easier to be disposed of. You have nothing to do but put the
lugger into our hands, when you will be pardoned, and be treated as a
prisoner of war."

"Does Monsieur Nelson authorize you to make this proposal to me?" asked
Raoul gravely.

"He does. Intrusted with the care of his country's interests he is
willing to overlook the offence against her, under the law of nations,
to deprive the enemy of doing so much harm. Put the lugger into our
hands, and you shall be sent to an ordinary prison-ship. Nay, merely
let us into the secret of her position, and _we_ will see to
her capture."

"Monsieur Nelson doubtless does no more than his duty," answered Raoul,
quietly, but with an air of severe self-respect. "It is his business to
have a care for English commerce, and he has every right to make this
bargain. But the treaty will not be conducted on equal terms; while he
is doing no more than his duty, I have no powers."

"How? You have the power of speech; that will suffice to let us into the
secret of the orders you have given the lugger, and where she is
probably to be found at this moment."

"_Non, Monsieur;_ I have not even _that_ in my power. I can do nothing
that must cover me with so much infamy. My tongue is under laws that I
never made, when treachery is in question."

Had Raoul assumed a theatrical tone and manner, as might have been
expected, probably it would have made very little impression on Cuffe;
but his quiet simplicity and steadiness carried conviction with them. To
say the truth, the captain was disappointed. He would have hesitated
about making his proposition to an officer of the regular French marine,
low as even these stood, at that day, in the estimation of Nelson's
fleet in particular; but from a privateersman he expected a greedy
acquiescence in a plan that offered life as a reward, in exchange for a
treachery like that he proposed. At first he felt disposed to taunt
Raoul with the contradiction between what he, Cuffe, conceived to be his
general pursuits, and his present assumption of principles; but the
unpretending calmness of the other's manner, and the truth of his
feelings, prevented it. Then, to do Cuffe himself justice, he was too
generous to abuse the power be had over his prisoner.

"You may do well to think of this, Monsieur Yvard," observed the
captain, after a pause of quite a minute. "The interest at stake is so
heavy, that reflection may yet induce you to change your mind."

"Monsieur Cuffe, I pardon you, if you can pardon yourself," answered
Raoul, with severe dignity in his manner, rising as he spoke, as if
disdaining civilities which came from his tempter. "I know what you
think of us corsairs--but an officer in an honorable service should
hesitate long before he tempts a man to do an act like this. The fact
that the life of your prisoner is at stake ought to make a brave seaman
still more delicate how he tries to work on his terrors or his
principles. But, I repeat, I forgive you, Monsieur, if you can forgive
yourself."

Cuffe stood confounded. The blood rushed to his heart; after which, it
appeared as if about to gush through the pores of his face. A feeling of
fierce resentment almost consumed him; then he became himself again, and
began to see things as was his wont in cooler moments. Still he could
not speak, pacing the cabin to recover his self-command.

"Monsieur Yvard," he at length said, "I ask your forgiveness sincerely,
and from the bottom of my heart. I did not know you, or such a proposal
would never have insulted you, or disgraced a British officer, in my
person. Nelson, too, is the last man living to wound the feelings of an
honorable enemy; but we did not know you. All privateersmen are not of
your way of thinking, and it was _there_ we fell into our mistake."

"_Touchez-la_," said Raoul, frankly extending his hand. "Monsieur le
Capitaine, you and I ought to meet in two fine frigates, each for his
country's honor; let what would be the result, it would lay the
foundations of an eternal friendship. I have lived long enough in _votre
Angleterre_ to understand how little you know _notre France; mais
n'importe._ Brave men can understand one another all over the world; for
the little time which is left me, we shall be friends."

Cuffe seized Raoul's hand, and even a tear escaped him, as he squeezed
it warmly.

"This has been a d--d miserable business, Griffin," said the captain,
as soon as he could speak without betraying weakness, "and one no man
will ever find me employed in again, though a fleet as large as that up
in the Bay yonder were the price."

"I never thought it would succeed, sir; and, to say the truth, I never
hoped it would. You'll excuse me, Captain Cuffe, but we English don't
give the continentals exactly the credit they deserve, and particularly
the French. I thought it wouldn't do, from the first."

Cuffe now repeated his apologies; and after a few expressions of
friendly esteem on both sides, Raoul returned to his little room,
declining the captain's offer to occupy one of the cabin state-rooms.
Griffin was soon back again; then the conversation was resumed between
the two officers.

"This is altogether a most painful business, Griffin," observed Cuffe,
"There is no doubt that Monsieur Yvard is technically a spy, and guilty,
according to the forms of law; but I entertain not the smallest doubt of
the truth of his whole story. This Ghita Caraccioli, as the girl calls
herself, is the very picture of truth; and was actually in Nelson's
cabin the day before yesterday, under circumstances that leave no doubt
of the simplicity and truth of her character, while every part of the
tale corresponds with the other. Even the veechy, and this pursy old
podesta, confirm the account; for they have seen Ghita in Porto Ferrajo,
and begin to think the Frenchman came in there solely on her account."

"I make no doubt, Captain Cuffe, that Lord Nelson will give a respite,
or even a pardon, were the facts fairly laid before him," observed
Griffin, who felt a generous interest in preserving the life of Raoul,
the very man he had endeavored to destroy by fire only a few weeks
before; but such is the waywardness of man, and such are the mixed
feelings generated by war.

"This is the most serious part of the affair, Griffin. The sentence is
approved; with an order that it shall be carried into effect this very
day, between the hours of sunrise and sunset; while here it is already
noon, and we are to the southward of Campanella, and so distant from the
flag-ship as to put signals out of the question."

Griffin started; all the grave difficulties of the case glancing upon
his mind in a moment. An order, according to the habits of the service,
and more especially an order of this serious character, was not to be
questioned; yet here was a dilemma in which there appeared no means
of relief.

"Good God, Captain Cuffe, how unlucky! Cannot an express be sent across
by land, so as yet to reach the flag-ship in time?"

"I have thought of that, Griffin, and Clinch has gone precisely on that
errand."

"Clinch! Pardon me, sir; but such a duty requires a very active and
_sober_ officer!"

"Clinch is active enough, and I _know_ his besetting weakness will have
no power over him to-day. I have opened the way for a commission to him,
and no one in the ship can go to Naples in a boat sooner than Clinch, if
he really try. He will make the most of the afternoon's breeze, should
there be any, and I have arranged a signal with him, by which he may let
us know the result even at the distance of eight or ten miles."

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