The Pilot

by James Fenimore Cooper

  "Who comes? and on what errand?" he cried, "A skulker, and to burrow like a rabbit, or jump from hole to hole, like a wharf-rat!" said Manual, sulkily; "here have I been marching, within half musket shot of the enemy, without daring to pull a trigger even on their outposts, because our muzzles are plugged with that universal extinguisher of gunpowder, called prudence. 'Fore God! Mr. Griffith, I hope you may never feel the temptation to do an evil deed, which I felt just now, to throw a volley of small shot into that dog-kennel of a place, if it were only to break its windows and let in the night air upon the sleeping sot, who is dozing away the fumes of some as good, old south-side—hark ye, Mr. Griffith, one word in your ear."

  A short conference took place between he two officers, apart from the men, at the close of which, as they rejoined the party, Manual might be heard urging his plans on the reluctant ears of Griffith in the following words:

  "I could carry the old dungeon without waking one of the snorers; and consider, sir, we might get a stock of as rich cordial from its cellars as ever oiled the throat of a gentleman!"

  "'Tis idle, 'tis idle," said Griffith impatiently; "we are not robbers of hen-roosts, nor wine-gaugers, to be prying into the vaults of the English gentry, Captain Manual; but honorable men, employed in the sacred cause of liberty and our country. Lead your party into the ruin, and let them seek their rest; we may have work for them with the dawn."

  "Evil was the hour when I quitted the line of the army, to place a soldier under the orders of an awkward squad of tarry jackets!" muttered Manual, as he proceeded to execute an order that was delivered with an air of authority that he knew must be obeyed. "As pretty an opportunity for a surprise and a forage thrown away, as ever crossed the path of a partisan! but, by all the rights of man! I'll have an encampment in some order. Here, you sergeant, detail a corporal and three men for a picket, and station them ii the skirts of this wood. We shall have a sentinel in advance of our position, and things shall be conducted with some air of discipline."

  Griffith heard this order with great inward disgust; but as he anticipated the return of the Pilot before the light could arrive to render his weak exposure of their situation apparent, he forbore exercising his power to alter the arrangement. Manual had, therefore, the satisfaction of seeing his little party quartered, as he thought, in military manner, before he retired with Griffith and his men into one of the vaulted apartments of the ruin, which, by its open and broken doors, invited their entrance. Here the marines disposed themselves to rest, while the two officers succeeded in passing the tedious hours, without losing their characters for watchfulness by conversing with each other, or, at whiles, suffering their thoughts to roam in the very different fields which fancy would exhibit to men of such differing characters. In this manner hour after hour passed, in listless quiet or sullen expectation, until the day had gradually advanced, and it became dangerous to keep the sentinels and picket in a situation where they were liable to be seen by any straggler who might be passing near the wood. Manual remonstrated against any alteration, as being entirely unmilitary, for he was apt to carry his notions of tactics to extremes whenever he came in collision with a sea officer: but in this instance his superior was firm, and the only concession the captain could obtain was the permission to place a solitary sentinel within a few feet of the vault, though under the cover of the crumbling walls of the building itself. With this slight deviation in their arrangements, the uneasy party remained for several hours longer, impatiently awaiting the period when they should be required to move.

  The guns first fired from the Alacrity had been distinctly audible and were pronounced by Griffith, whose practised ear detected the metal of the piece that was used, as not proceeding from the schooner. When the rapid though distant rumbling of the spirited cannonade became audible, it was with difficulty that Griffith could restrain either his own feelings or the conduct of his companions within those bounds that prudence and their situation required. The last gun was, however, fired, and not a man had left the vault, and conjectures as to the result of the fight succeeded to those which had been made on the character of the combatants during the action. Some of the marines would raise their heads from the fragments which served them as the pillows on which they were seeking disturbed and stolen slumbers, and after listening to the cannon would again compose themselves to sleep, like men who felt no concern in a contest in which they did not participate. Others, more alive to events and less drowsy, lavishly expended their rude jokes on those who were engaged in the struggle, or listened with a curious interest to mark the progress of the battle, by the uncertain index of its noise. When the fight had been some time concluded, Manual indulged his ill-humor more at length:

  "There has been a party of pleasure within a league of us, Mr. Griffith," he said, "at which, but for our present subterraneous quarters, we might have been guests, and thus laid some claim to the honor of sharing in the victory. But it is not too late to push the party on as far as the cliffs, where we shall be in sight of the vessels, and we may possibly establish a claim to our share of the prize-money."

  "There is but little wealth to be gleaned from the capture of a king's cutter," returned Griffith; "and there would be less honor were Barnstable encumbered with our additional and useless numbers."

  "Useless!" repeated Manual; "there is much good service to be got out of twenty-three well-drilled and well-chosen marines: look at those fellows, Mr. Griffith, and then tell me if you think them an encumbrance in the hour of need."

  Griffith smiled, and glanced his eye over the sleeping group,—for when the firing had ceased the whole party had again sought their repose,— and he could not help admiring the athletic and sinewy limbs that lay scattered around the gloomy vault, in every posture that ease or whim dictated. From the stout frames of the men, his glance was directed to the stack of firearms, from whose glittering tubes and polished bayonets strong rays of light were reflected, even in that dark apartment. Manual followed the direction of his eyes, and watched the expression of his countenance with inward exultation; but he had the forbearance to await his reply before he manifested his feeling more openly.

  "I know them to be true men," said Griffith, "when needed, but—hark! what says he?"

  "Who goes there? what noise is that?" repeated the sentinel who was placed at the entrance of the vault.

  Manual and Griffith sprang at the same instant from their places of rest, and stood, unwilling to create the slightest sounds, listening with the most intense anxiety to catch the next indications of the cause of their guardian's alarm. A short stillness, like that of death, succeeded, during which Griffith whispered:

  "'Tis the Pilot! his hour has been long passed."

  The words were hardly spoken, when the clashing of steel in fierce and sudden contact was heard, and at the next instant the body of the sentinel fell heavily along the stone steps that led to the open air, and rolled lifelessly to their feet, with the bayonet that had caused his death projecting from a deep wound in his breast.

  "Away, away! sleepers away!" shouted Griffith.

  "To arms!" cried Manual in a voice of thunder.

  The alarmed marines, suddenly aroused from their slumbers at these thrilling cries, sprang on their feet in a confused cluster, and at that fatal moment a body of living fire darted into the vault, which re- echoed with the reports of twenty muskets. The uproar, the smoke, and the groans which escaped from many of his party, could not restrain Griffith another instant: his pistol was fired through the cloud which concealed the entrance of the vault, and he followed the leaden messenger, trailing a half-pike, and shouting to his men:

  "Come on! follow, my lads; they are nothing but soldiers."

  Even while he spoke, the ardent young seaman was rushing up the narrow passage; but as he gained the open space, his foot struck the writhing body of the victim of his shot, and he was precipitated headlong into a group of armed men.

  "Fire! Manual, fire!" shouted the infuriated prisoner; "f
ire, while you have them in a cluster."

  "Ay, fire, Mr. Manual," said Borroughcliffe, with great coolness, "and shoot your own officer: hold him up, boys! hold him up in front; the safest place is nighest to him."

  "Fire!" repeated Griffith, making desperate efforts to release himself from the grasp of five or six men; "fire, and disregard me."

  "If he do, he deserves to be hung," said Borroughcliffe; "such fine fellows are not sufficiently plenty to be shot at like wild beasts in chains. Take him from before the mouth of the vault, boys, and spread yourselves to your duty."

  At the time Griffith issued from the cover, Manual was mechanically employed in placing his men in order; and the marines, accustomed to do everything in concert and array, lost the moment to advance. The soldiers of Borroughcliffe reloaded their muskets, and fell back behind different portions of the wall, where they could command the entrance to the vault with their fire, without much exposure to themselves. This disposition was very coolly reconnoitered by Manual in person, through some of the crevices in the wall, and he hesitated to advance against the force he beheld while so advantageously posted. In this situation several shots were fired by either party, without effect, until Borroughcliffe, perceiving the inefficacy of that mode of attack, summoned the garrison of the vault to a parley.

  "Surrender to the forces of his majesty, King George the Third," he cried, "and I promise you quarter."

  "Will you release your prisoner, and give us free passage to our vessels?" asked Manual; "the garrison to march out with all the honors of war, and officers to retain their side-arms?"

  "Inadmissible," returned Borroughcliffe, with great gravity; "the honor of his majesty's arms, and the welfare of the realm, forbid such a treaty: but I offer you safe quarters and honorable treatment."

  "Officers to retain their side-arms, your prisoner to be released, and the whole party to return to America, on parole, not to serve until exchanged?"

  "Not granted," said Borroughcliffe. "The most that I can yield is a good potation of the generous south-side; and if you are the man I take you for, you will know how to prize such an offer."

  "In what capacity do you summon us to yield? as men entitled to the benefit of the laws of arms, or as rebels to your king?"

  "Ye are rebels all, gentlemen," returned the deliberate Borroughcliffe, "and as such ye must yield; though so far as good treatment and good fare goes, you are sure of it while in my power; in all other respects you lie at the mercy of his most gracious majesty."

  "Then let his majesty show his gracious face, and come and take us, for I'll be—"

  The asseveration of the marine was interrupted by Griffith, whose blood had sensibly cooled, and whose generous feelings were awakened in behalf of his comrades, now that his own fate seemed decided.

  "Hold, Manual," he cried, "make no rash oaths: Captain Borroughcliffe, I am Edward Griffith, a lieutenant in the navy of the United American States, and I pledge you my honor to a parole—"

  "Release him," said Borroughcliffe.

  Griffith advanced between the two parties, and spoke so as to be heard by both:

  I propose to descend to the vault, and ascertain the loss and present strength of Captain Manual's party: if the latter be not greater than I apprehend, I shall advise him to a surrender on the usual conditions of civilized nations."

  "Go," said the soldier; "but stay; is he a half-and-half—an amphibious—pshaw! I mean a marine?"

  "He is, sir, a captain in that corps—"

  "The very man," interrupted Borroughcliffe; "I thought I recollected the liquid sounds of his voice. It will be well to speak to him of the good fare of St. Ruth; and you may add, that I know my man: I shall besiege, instead of storming him, with the certainty of a surrender when his canteen is empty. The vault he is in holds no such beverage as the cellars of the Abbey."

  Griffith smiled, in spite of the occasion and his vexation; and making a slight inclination of his head he passed into the vault, giving notice to his friends, by his voice, in order to apprise them who approached.

  He found six of the marines, including the sentinel, lying dead on the ragged pavement, and four others wounded, but stifling their groans, by the order of their commander, that they might not inform the enemy of his weakness. With the remainder of his command Manual had entrenched himself behind the fragment of a wall that intersected the vault, and, regardless of the dismaying objects before him, maintained as bold a front, and as momentous an air, as if the fate of a walled town depended on his resolution and ingenuity.

  "You see, Mr. Griffith," he cried, when the young sailor approached this gloomy but really formidable arrangement, "that nothing short of artillery can dislodge me: as for that drinking Englishman above, let him send down his men by platoons of eight or ten, and I'll pile them up on those steps, four and five deep."

  "But artillery can and will be brought, if it should be necessary," said Griffith; "and there is not the least chance of your eventual escape: it may be possible for you to destroy a few of the enemy, but you are too humane to wish to do it unnecessarily."

  "No doubt," returned Manual with a grim smile; "and yet methinks I could find present pleasure in shooting seven of them—yes, just seven, which is one more than they have struck off my roster."

  "Remember your own wounded," added Griffith; "they suffer for want of aid, while you protract a useless defence."

  A few smothered groans from the sufferers seconded this appeal, and Manual yielded, though with a very ill grace, to the necessity of the case.

  "Go, then, and tell him that we will surrender as prisoners of war," he said, "on the conditions that he grants me my side-arms, and that suitable care shall be taken of the sick—be particular to call them sick—for some lucky accident may yet occur before the compact is ratified, and I would not have him learn our loss."

  Griffith, without waiting for a second bidding, hastened to Borroughcliffe with his intelligence.

  "His side-arms!" repeated the soldier, when the other had done; "what are they, I pray thee—a marlinespike! For if his equipments be no better than thine own, my worthy prisoner, there is little need to quarrel about their ownership."

  "Had I but ten of my meanest men, armed with such half-pikes, and Captain Borroughcliffe and his party were put at deadly strife with us," retorted Griffith, "he might find occasion to value our weapons more highly."

  "Four such fiery gentlemen as yourself would have routed my command," returned Borroughcliffe, with undisturbed composure. "I trembled for my ranks when I saw you coming out of the smoke like a blazing comet from behind a cloud! and I shall never think of somersets without returning inward thanks to their inventor. But our treaty is made; let your comrades come forth and pile their arms."

  Griffith communicated the result to the captain of marines, when the latter led the remnant of his party out of his sunken fortress into the open air.

  The men, who had manifested throughout the whole business that cool subordination and unyielding front, mixed with the dauntless spirit that to this day distinguishes the corps of which they were members, followed their commander in sullen silence, and stacked their arms with as much regularity and precision as if they had been ordered to relieve themselves after a march. When this necessary preliminary had been observed, Borroughcliffe unmasked his forces, and our adventurers found themselves once more in the power of the enemy, and under circumstances which rendered the prospect of a speedy release from their captivity nearly hopeless.

  Chapter XX

  *

  If your father will do me any honor, so;

  If not, let him kill the next Percy himself:

  I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you.

  Falstaff.

  Manual cast sundry discontented and sullen looks from his captors to the remnant of his own command, while the process of pinioning the latter was conducted, with much discretion, under the directions of Sergeant Drill, when meeting, in one of his dissatisfied glance
s, with the pale and disturbed features of Griffith, he gave vent to his ill- humor, by saying:

  "This results from neglecting the precautions of military discipline. Had the command been with men, who, I may say, without boasting, have been accustomed to the duties of the field, proper pickets would have been posted, and instead of being caught like so many rabbits in a burrow, to be smoked out with brimstone, we should have had an open field for the struggle; or we might have possessed ourselves of these walls, which I could have made good for two hours at least, against the best regiment that ever wore King George's facings."