The Privateer's-Man, One hundred Years Ago

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER XIII.

  After staying a year with him, Mr. Trevannion proposes to take me into Partnership, but I decline the offer from conscientious motives--Miss Trevannion treats me with unmerited coldness--This and her Father's anger make me resolve to quit the House--What I overhear and see before my departure--The Ring.

  You may now behold me in a very different position, my dear Madam;instead of the laced hat and hanger at my side, imagine me in a plainsuit of gray with black buttons, and a pen behind my ear; instead ofwalking the deck and balancing to the motion of the vessel, I am nowperched immoveably upon a high stool; instead of sweeping the horizonwith my telescope, or watching the straining and bending of the sparsaloft, I am now with my eyes incessantly fixed upon the ledger orday-book, absorbed in calculation. You may inquire how I liked thechange. At first, I must confess, not over much, and, notwithstandingmy dislike to the life of a privateer's-man, I often sighed heavily,and wished that I were an officer in the king's service. The changefrom a life of activity to one of sedentary habits was too sudden, andI often found myself, with my eyes still fixed upon the figuresbefore me, absorbed in a sort of castle-building reverie, in which Iwas boarding or chasing the enemy, handling my cutlass, and sometimesso moved by my imagination as to brandish my arm over my head, when anexclamation of surprise from one of the clerks would remind me of myfolly, and, angry with myself, I would once more resume my pen. Butafter a time I had more command over myself, and could sit steadily atmy work. Mr. Trevannion had often observed how absent I was, and itwas a source of amusement to him; when we met at dinner, his daughterwould say: "So, I hear you had another sea-fight this morning, Mr.Elrington;" and her father would laugh heartily as he gave adescription of my ridiculous conduct.

  I very soon, with the kind assistance of Mr. Trevannion, became masterof my work, and gave him satisfaction. My chief employment consistedin writing the letters to correspondents. At first I only copied Mr.Trevannion's letters in his private letter-book; but as I became awareof the nature of the correspondence, and what was necessary to bedetailed, I then made a rough copy of the letters, and submitted themto Mr. Trevannion for his approval. At first there were a fewalterations made, afterwards I wrote them fairly out, and almostinvariably they gave satisfaction, or if any thing was added, it wasin a postscript. Mr. Trevannion's affairs, I found, were much moreextensive than I had imagined. He had the two privateers, two vesselson the coast of Africa trading for ivory and gold-dust and otherarticles, two or three vessels employed in trading to Virginia fortobacco and other produce, and some smaller vessels engaged in theNewfoundland fisheries, which, when they had taken in their cargo, ranto the Mediterranean to dispose of it, and returned with Mediterraneanproduce to Liverpool. That he was a very wealthy man, independent ofhis large stakes upon the seas, was certain. He had lent much money tothe guild of Liverpool, and had some tenanted properties in thecounty; but of them I knew nothing, except from the payment of therents. What surprised me much was, that a man of Mr. Trevannion'swealth, having but one child to provide for, should not retire frombusiness--and I once made the remark to his daughter. Her reply was:"I thought as you do once, but now I think differently. When I havebeen on a visit with my father, and he has stayed away for severalweeks, you have no idea how restless and uneasy he has become fromwant of occupation. It has become his habit, and habit is secondnature. It is not from a wish to accumulate that he continues at thecounting-house, but because he cannot be happy without employment. I,therefore, do not any longer persuade him to leave off, as I amconvinced that it would be persuading him to be unhappy. Until youcame, I think the fatigue was too great for him; but you have, as heapprizes me, relieved him of the heaviest portion of the labour, and Ihardly need say that I am rejoiced that you have so done."

  "It certainly is not that he requires to make money, Miss Trevannion;and, as he is so liberal in every thing, I must credit what youassert, that it is the dislike to having no employment which induceshim to continue in business. It has not yet become such a habit inme," continued I, smiling; "I think I could leave it off with greatpleasure."

  "But is not that because you have not yet recovered from your formerhabits, which were so at variance with a quiet and a sedentary life?"replied she.

  "I fear it is so," said I, "and, I believe, of all habits, those of avagrant are the most difficult to overcome. You used to laugh at methe first few months that I was here. I presume that I am a littleimproved, as I have not been attacked lately?"

  "My father says so, and is much pleased with you, Mr. Elrington, if mytelling you so gives you any satisfaction."

  "Certainly it does, because I wish to please him."

  "And me, too, I hope?"

  "Yes, most truly, Miss Trevannion; I only wish I had it in my power toshow how much I study your good opinion."

  "Will you risk my father's displeasure for it?" replied she, lookingat me fixedly.

  "Yes, I will, provided--"

  "Oh! there is a proviso already."

  "I grant that there should not have been any, as I am sure that youwould not ask me to do any thing which is wrong. And my proviso was,that I did not undertake what my conscience did not approve."

  "Your proviso was good, Mr. Elrington, for when a woman wouldpersuade, a man should be particularly guarded that he is not led intoerror by a rash promise. I think, however, that we are both agreedupon the point. I will therefore, come at once to what I wish you todo. It is the intention of my father, in the course of a few days,when you shall have accomplished your year of service, to offer totake you into partnership; and I am certain it will be on liberalterms. Now I wish you to refuse his offer unless he gives upprivateering."

  "I will do so at all risks, and I am truly glad that I have yourencouragement for taking such a bold step."

  "I tell you frankly that he will be very indignant. There is anexcitement about the privateering which has become almost necessary tohim, and he cares little about the remainder of his speculations. Heis so blind to the immorality to which it leads, that he does notthink it is an unlawful pursuit; if he did, I am sure that he wouldabandon it. All my persuasion has been useless."

  "And if a favourite and only daughter cannot prevail, what chance haveI, Miss Trevannion?"

  "A better chance, Mr. Elrington; he is partial to me, but I am awoman, and he looks upon my observations as a woman's weakness. Theobjections raised by a man, a young man, and one who has so long beenactively engaged in the service, will, therefore, carry more weight;besides, he has now become so accustomed to you, and has had so muchtrouble taken off his hands, and, at the same time, has such implicitconfidence in you, that I do not think, if he finds that he has tochoose between your leaving him and his leaving off privateering, hewill hesitate in relinquishing the latter. You have, moreover, greatweight with him, Mr. Elrington; my father is fully aware of the deepobligation he is under to your courage and self-devotion in the affairof the Jacobite refugees. You will, therefore, succeed, if you arefirm; and, if you do succeed, you will have my gratitude, if that isof any importance to you; my friendship you know you have already."

  The entrance of Mr. Trevannion prevented my reply. We had been waitingfor his return from a walk, and dinner had been ready some time. "Ihave just seen some of the men of the Arrow," said Mr. Trevannion,taking off his hat and spencer, "and that detained me."

  "Has Captain Levee arrived, then, Sir?" said I.

  "No; but he has sent in a prize--of no great value--laden with lightwares. The men in charge tell me he has had a rough affair with avessel armed _en flute_, and that he has lost some men. Your brotherPhilip, as usual, is wounded."

  I should here observe, that during the year which had passed away, thetwo privateers had been several times in port--they had met withmoderate success, barely sufficient to pay their expenses; my brotherPhilip had always conducted himself very gallantly, and had been twicewounded in different engagements.

  "Well, Sir," replied I, "I do not th
ink that the loss of a littleblood will do any harm to such a hot-headed youth as Master Philip;but I hope in a short time to give him an opportunity of shedding itin the service of the king, instead of in the pursuit of money.Indeed," continued I, as I sat down to table, "the enemy are now socautious, or have so few vessels on the high seas, that I fear yourprivateering account current will not be very favourable, whenbalanced, as it will be in a few days, notwithstanding this cargo ofwares just arrived."

  "Then we must hope better for next year," replied Mr. Trevannion."Amy, my dear, have you been out to-day?"

  "Yes, Sir; I was riding for two hours."

  "Have they altered your pillion yet?"

  "Yes, Sir; it came home last night, and it is now very comfortable."

  "I called at Mrs. Carleton's, who is much better. What a fop that Mr.Carleton is--I don't know what scented powder he uses, but it perfumedthe whole room. Had not Mrs. Carleton been such an invalid, I shouldhave opened the window."

  Mr. Trevannion then turned the conversation to some politicalintelligence which he had just received, and this engaged us till thedinner was over, and I returned to the counting-house, where I foundthe men who had brought in the prize, and who gave me a letter fromPhilip, stating that his wound was of no consequence.

  The communication of Mr. Trevannion took place, as his daughter hadassured me it would, on the anniversary of my entering into Mr.Trevannion's counting-house. After dinner, as we, as usual, weresmoking our pipes, Mr. Trevannion said: "Elrington, you have been withme now one year, and during that time you have made yourself fullymaster of your business; much to my surprise, I acknowledge, but stillmore to my satisfaction. That I have every reason to be satisfied withyou, you may imagine, when I tell you that it is now my intention totake you into partnership, and I trust by my so doing that you willsoon be an independent man. You know the capital in the business aswell as I do. I did say an eighth, but I now propose to make over toyou one-fourth, and to allow your profits of every year (deductingyour necessary expenses) to be invested in the business, until youhave acquired a right to one-half. Of future arrangements we willspeak hereafter."

  "Mr. Trevannion," replied I, "that I am truly grateful for suchunexpected liberality, I hardly need say, and you have my best thanksfor your noble offer; but I have scruples which, I must confess, Icannot get over."

  "Scruples!" exclaimed Mr. Trevannion, laying down his pipe on thetable. "Oh! I see now," continued he after a pause; "you think I amrobbing my daughter. No, no, the labourer is worthy of his hire, andshe will have more than sufficient. You carry your conscientiousnesstoo far, my dear fellow; I have more than enough for Amy, out of thebusiness altogether."

  "I am aware of that, Sir," added I, "and I did not, therefore, referto your daughter when I said that I had scruples. I must be candidwith you, Sir. How is it that I am now in your employ?"

  "Why, because you had a dislike to privateering, and I had a debt ofgratitude to pay."

  "Exactly, Sir; but whether you had been pleased to employ me or not, Ihad made up my mind, as you well know, from conscientious motives, notto continue on board of a privateer."

  "Well, I grant that."

  "The same motives, Sir, will not allow me to be a sharer in theprofits arising from such sources. I should consider myself equallywrong if I did so, as if I remained on board. Do not be angry with me,Sir," continued I; "if I, with many thanks, decline your offer ofbeing your partner; I will faithfully serve you upon any salary whichyou may consider I may merit, and trust to your liberality in everything."

  Mr. Trevannion made no reply; he had resumed his pipe, and continuedto smoke it, with his eyes fixed upon the mantelpiece. As soon as hispipe was out, he rose, put on his hat, and walked out of the room,without making any further observation. I waited a few minutes, andthen went back to the counting-house.

  That Mr. Trevannion was seriously offended, I was convinced; but Ivalued the good opinion of his daughter more than I did that of Mr.Trevannion; indeed, my feelings towards her had, during the year thatI had been in the house, gradually become of that nature that theythreatened much my peace of mind. I cannot say that I loved her in theusual acceptation of the term, adoration would better express what Ifelt. She was so pure, so perfect, such a model of female perfection,that I looked up to her with a reverence which almost quelled anyfeeling of love. I felt that she was above me, and that, with herwealth, it would be madness for one in my present position to aspireto her. Yet with this feeling I would have sacrificed all my hopes andpresent advantages to have obtained her approving smile. It is not,therefore, to be wondered at that I risked Mr. Trevannion'sdispleasure to gain her approbation; and when I resumed my seat at mydesk, and thought of what had passed, I made up my mind to be oncemore an outcast in the world rather than swerve from the promise whichI had made to her. I knew Mr. Trevannion to be a very decided man,and hasty when offended. That he was seriously offended with me therewas no doubt. I found that he had quitted the house immediately afterhe had left the room. I had hoped that he had gone to his daughter'sapartments, and that a conversation with her might have produced agood effect; but such was not the case.

  In about half an hour Mr. Trevannion returned, and as he walked intothe back room adjoining the counting-house, he desired me to followhim; I did so: "Mr. Elrington," said he, sitting down, and leaving mestanding at the table, "I fear, after what has passed that we shallnot continue on good terms. You have reproached me, an old man, withcarrying on an unlawful business; in short, in raising your ownscruples and talking of your own conscience, you have implied that Iam acting contrary to what conscience should dictate. In short, youhave told me, by implication, that I am not an honest man. You havethrown back in my face my liberal offer. My wish to oblige you hasbeen treated not only with indifference, but I may add with contumely;and that merely because you have formed some absurd notions of rightand wrong in which you will find no one to agree with you, except,perhaps, priests and women. I wish you well, Mr. Elrington,nevertheless. I am truly sorry for your infatuation, and wished tohave served you, but you will not be assisted by me."

  Here Mr. Trevannion paused, but I made no reply. After a time, wipingthe perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief, for heevidently was in a state of great excitement he continued:

  "As you do not choose to join me from conscientious scruples, I cannotbut imagine that you do not like to serve me from similar motives, forI see little difference between the two (and here, Madam, there wassome force in his observation, but it never occurred to me before); atall events, without weighing your scruples so exactly as to know howfar they may or may not extend, I feel that we are not likely to go onpleasantly together. I shall always think that I am reproached by youwhen any thing is said connected with the privateers--and you may havetwinges of conscience which may be disagreeable to you. Let us,therefore, part quietly. For your services up to the present, and toassist you in any other engagements you may enter on, take this--"

  Mr. Trevannion opened a lower drawer of the table, and put before me abag containing, as I afterwards discovered, 250 gold jacobuses.

  "I wish you well, Mr. Elrington, but I sincerely wish that we hadnever met."

  Mr. Trevannion then rose abruptly, and, before I could make any reply,brushed past me, went out at the door, and again walked away at arapid pace down the street. I remained where I stood; my eyes hadfollowed him as he went away. I was completely surprised. Ianticipated much anger, much altercation; but I never had an idea thathe would be so unjust as to throw off in this way one who for his sakehad gone through a heavy trial and come out with honour. My heart wasfull of bitterness. I felt that Mr. Trevannion had treated me withharshness and ingratitude.

  "Alas!" thought I, "such is the world, and such will ever be the casewith such imperfect beings as we are. How vain to expect any thinglike consistency, much less perfection, in our erring natures. Hurtbut the self-love of a man, wound his vanity, and all obligations areforgotten."

 
I turned away from the bag of money, which I was resolved not toaccept, although I had not at the time twenty guineas at my owndisposal. It was now within half an hour of dark; I collected all mybooks, put some in the iron safe, others as usual in my desk, andhaving arranged every thing as completely as I could, I locked thesafe, and inclosed the keys in a parcel, which I sealed. Putting Mr.Trevannion's name on the outside, I laid the parcel on the table inthe room where we had had our conference, by the side of the bag ofmoney.

  It was now dark, or nearly so, and leaving the confidential porter, asusual, to shut up the house, I went up to the sitting-room with theexpectation of seeing Miss Trevannion, and bidding her farewell. I wasnot disappointed; I found her at her netting, having just lighted thelamp which hung over the table.

  "Miss Trevannion," said I, advancing respectfully towards her, "Ihave fulfilled my promise, and I have received my reward"--she lookedup at me--"which is, I am dismissed from this house and your presencefor ever."

  "I trust," said she, after a pause, "that you have not exceeded mywishes. It appears to me so strange, that I must think that such isthe case. My father never could have dismissed you in this way formerely expressing an opinion, Mr. Elrington. You must have gone toofar."

  "Miss Trevannion, when you meet your father, you can then ascertainwhether I have been guilty of intemperance or rudeness, or a properwant of respect in making the communication--which I did in exactlythe manner you yourself proposed, and my reward has been such as Istate."

  "You have a better reward, Mr. Elrington, if what you assert is reallycorrect. You have the reward of having done your duty; but I cannotimagine that your dismissal has arisen from the mere expression of anopinion. You'll excuse me, Mr. Elrington, that as a daughter, Icannot, in justice to a much respected father, believe that such isthe case."

  This was said in so cold a manner, that I was nettled to the highestdegree. Miss Trevannion had promised me her gratitude, instead ofwhich I felt that she was doubting my word, and, as it were, takingthe side of her father against me. And this was the return from her. Icould have upbraided her, and told her what I felt; namely, that shehad taken advantage of my feelings towards her to make me a cat's-pawto obtain her end with her father; and that now, having failed, I wasleft to my fate, without even commiseration; but she looked so calm,so grave, and so beautiful, that I could not do it. I commanded mywounded feelings, and replied:

  "Since I have the misfortune to meet the displeasure of the daughteras well as of the father, Miss Trevannion, I have not another word tosay, but farewell, and may you prosper."

  My voice faltered as I said the last words, and, bowing to her, Iquitted the room. Miss Trevannion did not even say farewell to me, butI thought that her lips appeared to move, as quitting the room I tookmy last look upon her beautiful face. I shut the door after me, and,overpowered by my feelings, I sank upon a settee in the ante-room, ina state of giddy stupor. I know not how long I remained there, for myhead turned and my senses reeled; but I was aroused from it by theheavy tread of Mr. Trevannion, who came along the corridor without alight, and not perceiving me, opened the door of the sitting-roomwhere his daughter still remained. He threw the door too after he hadentered, but it did not quite close, leaving a narrow stream of lightthrough the ante-room.

  "Father," said Miss Trevannion in my hearing, "you look warm andexcited."

  "I have reason so to be," replied Mr. Trevannion, abruptly.

  "I have heard from Mr. Elrington the cause of it," replied MissTrevannion; "that is, I have heard his version of it. I am glad thatyou have come back, as I am most anxious to hear yours. What has Mr.Elrington said or done to cause such irritation and his dismissal?"

  "He has behaved with insolence and ingratitude," replied Mr.Trevannion; "I offered him partnership, and he refused, unless I wouldgive up privateering."

  "So he stated; but in what manner was he insolent to you?"

  "Insolent!--told me that he acted from conscientious motives, whichwas as much as to say that I did not."

  "Was his language very offensive?"

  "No, not his language--that was respectful enough; but it was the veryrespect which made it insolent. So I told him that as he could not,from scruples of conscience, join me in privateering, of course hisscruples of conscience could not allow him to keep the books, and Idismissed him."

  "Do you mean to say, my dear father, that he, in a respectful manner,declined entering into partnership from these scruples which youmention; that he gave you no other offence than expressing hisopinion, and declining your offer?"

  "And what would you have more?" replied Mr. Trevannion.

  "I wish to know where was the insult, the ingratitude, on his partwhich you complain of?"

  "Simply in refusing the offer. He ought to have felt grateful, and hewas not; and he had no right to give such reasons as he did; for thereasons were condemning my actions. But you women cannot understandthese things."

  "I rather think, my dear father, that we cannot; for I cannot perceiveeither the insult or the ingratitude which you complain of, and such Ithink will be your own opinion when you have had time to reflect, andare more cool. Mr. Elrington expressed nothing more to-day, when hestated his dislike to privateering from conscientious motives than hedid after his return from his confinement in the Tower, when he gaveup the command of the privateer on those very grounds; and then, whenstill warm with gratitude to him for his self-devotion, you did notconsider it an insult, but, on the contrary, took him still nearer toyou into your own house. Why, then, should you consider it an insultnow? Neither can I see any ingratitude. You made him an offer, thevalue of which, in a worldly point of view, he could not butappreciate, and he declined it from conscientious motives; declinedit, as you acknowledge, respectfully; proving that he was ready tosacrifice his worldly interests to what he considered his duty as aChristian. When Mr. Elrington told me that you had dismissed him, Ifelt so certain that he must have been guilty of some unpardonableconduct towards you to have induced you to have resorted to such astep, that I did not credit him when he asserted the contrary. I couldnot believe, as a daughter, any thing so much to the prejudice of myown father, and so much at variance with his general conduct. I nowfeel that I have been most unjust to Mr. Elrington, and conductedmyself towards him in a way which I bitterly regret, and hope by somemeans to be able to express my contrition for--"

  "Amy--Amy," said Mr. Trevannion, severely, "are you blinded by regardfor this young man, that you side against your own father? Am I tounderstand that you have given your affections without my sanction orapproval?"

  "No, Sir," replied Miss Trevannion; "that I do respect and regard Mr.Elrington is true, and I cannot do otherwise for his many goodqualities and his devotion towards you; but if you would ask me if Ilove him, I reply that such a thought has not yet entered my head.Without a knowledge of who he is, or his family, and without yourapproval, I should never think of yielding up my affections in sohasty a manner; but I may say more: these affections have never beensolicited by Mr. Elrington. He has always behaved towards me with thatrespect, which, as the daughter of his patron, I have had a right toexpect; but in no instance has he ever signified to me that he had anypreference in my favour. Having assured you of this, my dear father, Icannot but say that I consider that he has, in this instance, not onlybeen treated with injustice by you, but also by me."

  "Say no more," replied Mr. Trevannion. As he said this, I heardfootsteps in the passage, and was about to retreat to my own room; butas the party came without a light, I remained. It was the porter, whoknocked at the sitting-room door, and was requested to come in by Mr.Trevannion.

  "If you please, Sir, Mr. Elrington is gone out, I believe, and I foundthis packet directed to you on the table of the inner room, and alsothis bag of money, which I suppose you forgot to put away before youleft."

  "Very well, Humphrey, leave them on the table."

  The man did so, and quitted the room, not perceiving me in the dark ashe passed through
the ante-room.

  "He has not taken the money," observed Mr. Trevannion. "He might havedone so, as he ought to be paid for his services."

  "I presume, my dear father, that his feelings were too much hurt bywhat passed," said Miss Trevannion. "There are obligations whichcannot be repaid with gold."

  "These, I perceive, are the keys of the safe; I did not think that hewould have gone away this night."

  I now considered it high time to quit the ante-room, where I had beenirresistibly detained by the conversation which took place. I hastenedto my own chamber, determined that I would leave the house the nextmorning before any one was stirring. I gained it in the dark, buthaving the means of striking a light, I did so, and packed up all myclothes ready for my departure. I had just fastened down my valise,when I perceived a light on the further end of the long corridor whichled to my apartment. Thinking it might be Mr. Trevannion, and notwishing to see him, I blew out my own light and retreated to a smalldressing-room, within my chamber, communicating by a glass door. Thelight evidently approached, and at last I perceived the party wasentering my room, the door of which was wide open. It was MissTrevannion who entered, and turning round with her chamber-light inher hand, appeared to survey the apartment with a mournful air. Sheperceived my valise, and her eyes were fixed upon it for some time; atlast she walked up to the dressing-table, and, sitting on the stoolbefore it, leant down her head upon her hands and wept.

  "Alas!" thought I, "if those tears were but for me; but it is notso--she has been excited, and her tears have come to her relief."

  After a time she raised her head from the table, and said, "How unjusthave I been--and I shall see him no more!--if I could but beg hispardon, I should be more happy. Poor fellow!--what must he have feltat my harsh bearing. Oh! my father, I could not have believed it. Andwhat did I say?--that I had no feeling for--well, I thought so at thetime, but now--I am not quite sure that I was correct, thoughhe--well, it's better that he's gone--but I cannot bear that he shouldhave gone as he has done. How his opinion of me must have changed!That is what vexes me--" and again she bent her head down on the tableand wept.

  In a moment she again rose, and took her candle in her hand.Perceiving on the dressing-table a small gold ring which I had takenoff my finger the day before, and had forgotten, she took it up andexamined it. After a little while she laid her light down on thetable, and put the ring upon her finger.

  "I will keep it till I see him again," murmured she; and then takingher light, she walked slowly out of the room.

  The knowledge I had gained by this unintentional eavesdropping on mypart, was the source of much reflection--and as I lay on the bedwithout taking off my clothes, it occupied my thoughts till the daybegan to break. That I still retained the good opinion of MissTrevannion was certain, and the mortification I had endured at ourfinal interview was now wholly removed. It was her duty to suppose herparent not in fault till the contrary was proved. She had known herfather for years--me she had only known for a short time, and neverbefore had she known him guilty of injustice. But her expressions andher behaviour in my room--was it possible that she was partial to me,more partial than she had asserted to her father when she wasquestioned!--and her taking away the ring!