Then he begged us again to help him. He looked at us with increasing appeal in his eyes, and his face was that of one who had suffered.
146 A HERALD OF THE WEST.
Courtenay was excited much excited. All his hot South Carolina blood flamed up.
" Comrades," he cried, " we would be disgraced for ever if we let them take this man back. Will you not help me to defend him?"
" I will, for one," I said, unable to resist such an ap peal, " but we are not properly armed."
" You forget the rifles," said Courtenay.
They were still lying on the ground side by side, and he snatched them up, handing one to me and keeping the other himself. The men in the boat were landing. I heard footsteps beside me, and a voice said:
" Please consider me your friend and ally in this."
I looked around and saw that little woman-man, that little whipper-snapper, Van Steenkerk, by my side. He held one of the rapiers in his hand, ready for a thrust. He looked ridiculous with his puny figure in his ex aggerated clothes, but I recognised the brave man never theless.
Knowlton held the other sword, and Mercer had drawn a pistol from somewhere in the interior of his coat. The man stood behind us, panting alike with ex haustion and excitement.
Six men, a lieutenant at their head, landed from the boat and advanced toward us, arms in their hands. I noticed the lieutenant closely. He was a young man, almost as young as myself. They approached us, and stopped in stiff, milit ary fashion at ten feet.
" We wish to take that man behind you," said the lieutenant; " he is a deserter from his Majesty's ship Guerriere, which you see there."
I suppose that he spoke to me, because I was the big gest. He looked suspiciously at us. There was enough to arouse his suspicions, as at least five of us showed arms.
" I do not see what claim you can have upon an American sailor," I said.
AT THE DUELLING GROUND. 147
"What do you mean?"
" This man is an American sailor, impressed by your countrymen more than seven years ago."
" I know nothing of that," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. " I have been on the Guerriere but a year, and I found him there when I came. He is rated as a British seaman. He must go back with us."
The sailor said not a word, as if his tale once told, he trusted implicitly in its effect upon us.
" This man is an American, born and bred; I know it; I know his father," I said.
An idea had seized me. He had told us that he used to live on the Baltimore road, and I suddenly remem bered the tale of the old blacksmith.
" Is not your name Patterson ? " I asked of the man behind us.
" Yes, Patterson Henry Patterson."
" Does not your father live on the Baltimore road? "
" Yes, he is a blacksmith there; he was seven years ago."
" You hear," I said to the lieutenant. " This man is an American. I know it."
" I care nothing about that," he said; " such things are for the captain of the Guerriere or the Admiralty. At any rate, this man is a liar."
" He is not a liar," I said; " he tells the truth, and I know it."
" It is the truth, the gospel truth," said the sailor.
" Come," said the lieutenant, " I have no time to waste here in debate. I must carry this deserter back to our ship."
" You shall not do it, sir," cried Mr. Van Steenkerk, jumping about like a turkey cock and flourishing his little sword in a manner that was dangerous to me, his nearest neighbour. " Damn me, if you shall do it, sir. Listen to me: I love England, and I have long wanted to be an Englishman until this day, but I don't want to
14:8 A HERALD OF THE WEST.
be one now. I came here to fight this gentleman on my left, but I will take great pleasure in fighting you in stead. Draw your sword."
I made a vow that very moment to ask the little dandy his pardon for anything offensive that I had ever said to him, be the greater fault mine or his.
" I have six men armed," said the lieutenant, " and I say this deserting British sailor shall go with us."
" I have seven men, at least five of whom are armed," I said, " and this American sailor shall not go with you. He is on his own soil, and here he shall stay."
The lieutenant looked at me, and I looked at him. I could see that he was at a loss. Had we been on the deck of the Guerriere the advantage would have been his, but now, on our own ground, it was ours.
" We do not wish bloodshed," said the lieutenant.
"Neither do we," said I. Then I added: "We shall certainly resist with arms any attempt to take this man."
There was no doubt about our attitude, and the look of irresolution appeared again upon his face.
" I shall complain to your Government about this," he said.
It was an acknowledgment of defeat.
" Do so," I said. I knew what complaints to govern ments amounted to in those days.
He looked at his ship. They seemed to be making some kind of a signal there.
" Your name, please? " he said to me.
" It is wholly unnecessary."
He paused again, then he added:
" But we shall have him back again."
" Good-bye."
He marched his men to the boat, and they rowed to ward the ship. The sailor began to thank us so profusely that we stopped him.
" Come," I said, " I think you'll be a safer man out of sight of that ship."
AT THE DUELLING GROUND. 149
We walked swiftly, not stopping until we were deep in the thick woods behind the little town of Brooklyn, and the spars and masts of the Guerriere and her consort were far out of sight. We took the rescued sailor with us, Courtenay holding him by the arm, while Van Steen- kerk, still brandishing his sword, went on before. But when we stopped and Courtenay released his hold, the man sank down in a lump upon the ground, overpowered by his efforts.
" Give him some of this," said Van Steenkerk; " I thought that I might need it myself, and it is timely."
He handed out a small flask, and Courtenay poured some of the strong liquor into his mouth. He gasped and gurgled, and a little colour appeared in his face.
Van Steenkerk poured another gulp of the hot stuff down his throat, and the man revived and sat up.
His strength steadily increased, and his spirit with it. His rescue seemed to create him anew. By and by he told us of himself, how he had been taken out of the schooner by a ship of the line, and they only laughed at him when he said he was not an Englishman. They didn't care whether he was or not, and anyhow he was rated as an able-bodied English seaman on board that ship of the line. When he refused to serve they used the cat, and then they used the cat again. On the same ship he had fought in the great battle of Trafalgar, and he did not mind it so much then, in the fury and blaze of the conflict, but when he was doing guard duty in the German Ocean and the North Sea he tried to escape, and was caught, and given to the lash again. A second time he sought to get away, and found only the cat. He was passed from one ship to another and was flogged in each, until he lost the spirit of a man, and was willing to be anything that they said. But when he was sent on to the Guerriere and she came to the American station, he took the first chance to escape, desperate though it was. Such was his story, and many another man had the like to tell.
150 A HERALD OF THE WEST.
" We don't know what will be said about this," said Courtenay. " "We must smuggle him into town some where, and then to his home. After that the American and British Governments can settle it between them, if any question is raised."
Van Steenkerk had put up his sword, and was stand ing near. I went up to him.
" Mr. Van Steenkerk," I said, " you and I came out here to fight a duel."
"Is that so? I have no recollection of it," he re plied.
" I'm afraid it's true," I said.
"Then if you insist upon it, it is true, and the duel has been fought," he replied with a faint gleam in his eye.
" Whic
h of us is dead ? " I asked.
" That is the question," he replied.
" Mr. Van Steenkerk," I said, " I was mistaken in you; you are a brave and true man."
" If I have said anything that was offensive to you, Mr. Ten Broeck, I take it back and apologize."
" Then let us shake hands and be friends."
We shook hands with the best good will. Yet I was careful about my grip, my hand was so much larger and stronger than his.
" But I'm afraid I've disgraced myself by taking this man's part," he said ruefully.
" You obeyed your best impulse, that was what you did," said Mercer, who heard him. It had been a long time since I had seen this dry Tennesseean so moved.
Then we went back to the city, taking the rescued sailor with us. We concealed him that night, and Van Steenkerk put him on the road home the next morning.
"I think we came out of that double affair very well," said Courtenay that night.
" I think so too," I said; " but I'm glad the duel with those rifles at ten paces didn't come off."
" I never thought it would," he replied.
CHAPTEE XIII.
AN ABRIVAL FROM THE SOUTH.
THE next morning Courtenay and I made our finest toilets and proposed to take a saunter about the Battery, where we might breathe the fresh salt air and see whom soever might come in our way. Mercer declined to go with us, saying that he had business to which he must attend at once, and promised to meet us at the tavern when we returned at noon for dinner.
Though it was not precisely the time of day for the fashion of New York, there were some people of conse quence, nevertheless, strolling about the fine little park that they call the Battery, though I understand now that the fashionable portion of New York is moving farther uptown toward Canal Street.
We were delighted to meet Van Steenkerk among those who were parading. He was dressed, if such a thing were possible, more gorgeously than ever, and we felt somewhat overpowered in his company. But he really knew people, and introduced us to several of con sequence. We met the famous Dr. David Hosack, a fine-looking man of thirty-five, Colonel Nicholas Fish, a candidate for lieutenant governor against De Witt Clin ton, and then the greatest of them all, the renowned Mr. Washington Irving, whose history of New York I have read five times with the greatest delight. He had a fine face, was dressed in good style, wearing a heavy overcoat with a great fur collar over his other clothing, the morn ing being cool. He talked to us several minutes, and
151
152 A HERALD OP THE WEST.
asked us numerous questions about Kentucky and Ten nessee, which he said he intended to visit some day.
When we returned to the tavern we found Mercer there, as he had promised he would he.
" You can't guess who has come, Phil," he said.
" I shall not try, for I have not the slightest idea."
" Cyrus Pendleton and his daughter and a young gentleman whom you know."
" Bidwell, of course."
" Yes, Bidwell, of course," he laughed, though the laugh did not seem wholly real to me. Then he added that they were at our tavern and we should see them at dinner. I was not surprised, as Cyrus Pendleton trav elled often and far on business, and I was not astonished either that Bidwell should be in their train, as he seemed to have nothing to do nowadays but to follow them wherever they might go.
This was a great and pleasant event to me, as I had not believed that I would see Marian Pendleton again in many days, and my heart began to beat a more lively tune than its wont.
Cyrus Pendleton received me in his usual constrained manner, Bidwell shook my hand in a way that he would make supercilious, but I could see shining in Marian's eyes a warmth of welcome that atoned for all coldness in others. They had arrived late the night before, after an easy journey, and Cyrus Pendleton and his daughter were fresh and ready the father for his business and the daughter to see the great town of New York. Mr. Pendleton turned his talk at once to war, and he was as hot as ever for it. I saw that he would be considered a firebrand by the merchants and shippers and money lenders of New York, who were almost solidly opposed to a conflict with either Great Britain or France, pre ferring that the nation should endure any sort of dis grace and any amount of suffering, as long as it was con fined to obscure individuals, sailors, and such, rather
AN ARRIVAL FROM THE SOUTH. 153
than suffer a diminution of their profits or a loss of the wealth they had gained already. But the tone of the fur trader's talk pleased us all, myself included, despite my knowledge of the Government's difficulties, and none had any desire to interfere with it. Seizing the oppor tunity, I asked Marian to take a ride with me that after noon, and let me show her a little of New York, to which proposition she consented with alacrity, though there was a frown on her father's face.
" I had fancied that I would have the pleasure of in troducing New York to Miss Pendleton," said Bidwell, a little irritation showing in his tone. But his annoy ance was of no profit to him, since I was very far from asking him to go with us.
I hired two good horses and Marian and I rode north ward. In truth, one can ride in no other direction in New York, unless he wishes to ride into the sea, the island is so narrow and peculiar in shape. Marian was a fine horsewoman, as is every one in Kentucky, alike from choice and necessity. We had a crisp, fresh after noon for our ride, the sunshine being bright and the day having turned somewhat warmer, removing the need of wraps.
As we rode northward, I called to her notice the signs of great activity prevailing everywhere, the vast amount of excavation and building going on, and the rapid growth of the place. It is a fact that 1811 was a very notable year for building in New York, the people realizing that theirs was destined to be the greatest city in America, and being incited to extensive effort by it. We were well beyond Canal Street before we ceased to hear the incessant scrape and shriek of the saw, the beat of the hammer, and the sharp ring of the mason's trowel. On all sides of us we saw men cutting down hills and filling up marshes, that both might be sites for houses, as if they were bound to build a new Babylon before the year was out. But I was glad when we passed all this 11
154: A HERALD OP THE WEST.
and entered the domain of grass and trees and country houses, some portions of the island seeming almost as wild as the hills of our own Kentucky. It was a perfect afternoon, a soft breeze which told of the northward march of spring blowing from the southwest upon us. Through the trees, for we kept to the western side of the island, we could see the silver-gray Hudson, its sur face crinkling up like melted glass under the gentle breeze, and now and then showing faint tints of purple and green and blue and red. The masts and spars of the ships in the river were wonderfully near and distinct in the clear air, and, farther on, the Palisades stretched their mighty bastion of rock mile after mile, the sun light seeking the crannies and touching the foliage which clung to their sides with its gleam of gold.
My mind had been filled for so many days with thoughts of war and danger, rescue and revenge, that the sudden peace, the calmness and beauty of Nature and the presence of a fair woman acted upon me like some powerful potion and gave me visions of another and softer kind. Under their influence I was quiet for a while, and Marian, too, seemed to have no wish to talk. But I took enough glances to see that the spring roses were blooming brightly in her cheeks. Her eyes were turned usually toward the river and the hills and the Palisades beyond, and they sparkled with the light of youth and beauty, strength and happiness. She and I were merely like the rest of Nature, feeling the reawak ening of the earth after the winter cold and snow.
" It is very beautiful here," she said.
" Our own Kentucky is beautiful, too," I replied, " but this is different. That huge rock wall yonder does not remind me much of our gently rolling blue grass."
" But I suppose that they are doing the same there that they are doing here," she said, " talking and think ing of nothing but war and its chances."
&n
bsp; " They are probably talking much more in favour of
AN ARRIVAL FROM THE SOUTH. 155
it there than they are here," I said. Then I proceeded to urge with great warmth the necessity of preparing for war, and drew comparisons between the spirit of the Kentuckians and the New Yorkers, not at all in favour of the latter. Perhaps I was a little unjust to the New Yorkers, for Kentucky would not be exposed to invasion unless in case of overwhelming defeat, while New York would be in danger at the outset. Nevertheless, I argued that every consideration of honour' and safety 'alike de manded that we fight, an opinion which I yet hold.
" Do you still intend to go to the war, if we have one? " she asked.
" Would you think better of me if I were to go or if I were to stay at home ? " I asked.
She laughed, a laugh that was clear and gay in the beginning, and soft and sad at the end.
" The decision is not in my hands," she said.
I quoted in half -jesting tones:
I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
She did not answer.
We rode on in the growing spring, noting the tender young grass springing up over the dead blades of last year, the swelling buds on the trees, the deepening tints of green in the foliage on the far cliffs, and the faint odour of spice and rose that comes with the south winds that freshen the earth in spring. Dark was approaching when we rode back into the town and saw the lights gleaming before us.
Courtenay, Mercer, and I called that evening upon the Misses Constance and Fanny Eastlake, whom we had known well in Washington, and the next morning all of us received invitations to a large entertainment two even ings later at the home of John Haslett, a rich merchant, who had a fine house on Canal Street. Mr. Haslett was
156 A HERALD OP THE WEST.
a business and social acquaintance of Mr. Pendleton's, and the reception was to be in honour of the Western man and his daughter.
Altsheler, Joseph - [Novel 05] Page 15