The old seamen say, ‘that the devil wouldn’t make a sailor, unless he looked aloft’ As for the compass, why, there is no such thing as steering without one.
I’m sure I never lose sight of the main-top, as I call the squire’s lookout on the roof, but I set my compass, d’ye see, and take the bearings and distance of things, in order to work out my course, if so be that it should cloud up, or the tops of the trees should shut out the light of heaven.
The steeple of St. Paul’s, now that we have got it on end, is a great help to the navigation of the woods, for, by the Lord Harry! as was—”
“It is well, Benjamin,” interrupted Marmaduke, observing that his daughter manifested displeasure at the major-domo’s familiarity; “but you forget there is a lady in company, and the women love to do most of the talking themselves.”
“The Judge says the true word,” cried Benjamin, with one of his discordant laughs.
“Now here is Mistress Remarkable Pettibones; just take the stopper off her tongue, and you’ll hear a gabbling worse like than if you should happen to fall to leeward in crossing a French privateer, or some such thing, mayhap, as a dozen monkeys stowed in one bag.”
It were impossible to say how perfect an illustration of the truth of Benjamin’s assertion the housekeeper would have furnished, if she had dared; but the Judge looked sternly at her, and unwilling to incur his resentment, yet unable to contain her anger, she threw herself out of the room with a toss of the body that nearly separated her frail form in the centre.
“Richard,” said Marmaduke, observing that his displeasure had produced the desired effect, “can you inform me of anything concerning the youth whom I so unfortunately wounded?
I found him on the mountain hunting in company with the Leather-Stocking, as if they were of the same family; but there is a manifest difference in their manners.
The youth delivers himself in chosen language, such as is seldom heard in these hills, and such as occasions great surprise to me, how one so meanly clad, and following so lowly a pursuit, could attain.
Mohegan also knew him.
Doubtless he is a tenant of Natty’s hut.
Did you remark the language of the lad. Monsieur Le Quoi?”
“Certainement, Monsieur Temple,” returned the French man, “he deed convairse in de excellent Anglaise.”
“The boy is no miracle,” exclaimed Richard;
“I’ve known children that were sent to school early, talk much better before they were twelve years old.
There was Zared Coe, old Nehemiah’s son, who first settled on the beaver-dam meadow, he could write almost as good hand as myself, when he was fourteen; though it’s true, I helped to teach him a little in the evenings.
But this shooting gentleman ought to be put in the stocks, if he ever takes a rein in his hand again.
He is the most awkward fellow about a horse I ever met with.
I dare say he never drove anything but oxen in his life.”
“There, I think, Dickon, you do the lad injustice,” said the Judge; “he uses much discretion in critical moments.
Dost thou not think so, Bess?”
There was nothing in this question particularly to excite blushes, but Elizabeth started from the revery into which she had fallen, and colored to her forehead as she answered:
“To me, dear sir, he appeared extremely skilful, and prompt, and courageous; but perhaps Cousin Richard will say I am as ignorant as the gentleman himself.”
“Gentleman!” echoed Richard; “do you call such chaps gentlemen, at school, Elizabeth?”
“Every man is a gentleman that knows how to treat a woman with respect and consideration,” returned the young lady promptly, and a little smartly.
“So much for hesitating to appear before the heiress in his shirt-sleeves,” cried Richard, winking at Monsieur Le Quoi, who returned the wink with one eye, while he rolled the other, with an expression of sympathy, toward the young lady.
“Well, well, to me he seemed anything but a gentleman.
I must say, however, for the lad, that he draws a good trigger, and has a true aim.
He’s good at shooting a buck, ha! Marmaduke?”
“Richart,” said Major Hartmann, turning his grave countenance toward the gentleman he addressed, with much earnestness, “ter poy is goot.
He savet your life, and my life, and ter life of i’ominie Grant, and ter life of ter Frenchman; and, Richard, he shall never vant a pet to sleep in vile olt Fritz Hartmann has a shingle to cover his het mit.”
“Well, well, as you please, old gentleman,” returned Mr. Jones, endeavoring to look indifferent; “put him into your own stone house, if you will, Major.
I dare say the lad never slept in anything better than a bark shanty in his life, unless it was some such hut as the cabin of Leather-Stocking.
I prophesy you will soon spoil him; any one could see how proud he grew, in a short time, just because he stood by my horses’ heads while I turned them into the highway.”
“No, no, my old friend,” cried Marmaduke, “it shall be my task to provide in some manner for the youth; I owe him a debt of my own, besides the service he has done me through my friends.
And yet I anticipate some little trouble in inducing him to accept of my services.
He showed a marked dislike, I thought, Bess, to my offer of a residence within these walls for life.”
“Really, dear sir,” said Elizabeth, projecting her beautiful under-lip, “I have not studied the gentleman so closely as to read his feelings in his countenance.
I thought he might very naturally feel pain from his wound, and therefore pitied him; but”—and as she spoke she glanced her eye, with suppressed curiosity, toward the major-domo—“I dare say, sir, that Benjamin can tell you something about him, he cannot have been in the village, and Benjamin not have seen him often.”
“Ay! I have seen the boy before,” said Benjamin, who wanted little encouragement to speak; “he has been backing and filling in the wake of Natty Bumppo, through the mountains, after deer, like a Dutch long-boat in tow of an Albany sloop.
He carries a good rifle, too, ‘the Leather-Stocking said, in my hearing, before Betty Hollister’s bar-room fire, no later than the Tuesday night, that the younger was certain death to the wild beasts.
If so be he can kill the wild-cat that has been heard moaning on the lake-side since the hard frosts and deep snows have driven the deer to herd, he will be doing the thing that is good.
Your wild-cat is a bad shipmate, and should be made to cruise out of the track of Christian men.”
“Lives he in the hut of Bumppo?” asked Marmaduke, with some interest.
“Cheek by jowl; the Wednesday will be three weeks since he first hove in sight, in company with Leather-Stocking.
They had captured a wolf between them, and had brought in his scalp for the bounty.
That Mister Bump-ho has a handy turn with him in taking off a scalp; and there’s them, in this here village, who say he l’arnt the trade by working on Christian men.
If so be that there is truth in the saying, and I commanded along shore here, as your honor does, why, d’ye see, I’d bring him to the gangway for it, yet.
There’s a very pretty post rigged alongside of the stocks; and for the matter of a cat, I can fit one with my own hands; ay! and use it too, for the want of a better.”