Redgauntlet [174]
is KILLING me,' replied Nanty Ewart; 'and I am only sorry he is so long about it.'
So saying he jumped on his feet, and, tripping up and down the deck, gave his orders with his usual clearness and decision, notwithstanding the considerable quantity of spirits which he had contrived to swallow while recounting his history.
Although far from feeling well, Fairford endeavoured to rouse himself and walk to the head of the brig, to enjoy the beautiful prospect, as well as to take some note of the course which the vessel held. To his great surprise, instead of standing across to the opposite shore from which she had departed, the brig was going down the Firth, and apparently steering into the Irish Sea. He called to Nanty Ewart, and expressed his surprise at the course they were pursuing, and asked why they did not stand straight across the Firth for some port in Cumberland.
'Why, this is what I call a reasonable question, now,' answered Nanty; 'as if a ship could go as straight to its port as a horse to the stable, or a free-trader could sail the Solway as securely as a King's cutter! Why, I'll tell ye, brother--if I do not see a smoke on Bowness, that is the village upon the headland yonder, I must stand out to sea for twenty-four hours at least, for we must keep the weather-gage if there are hawks abroad.'
'And if you do see the signal of safety, Master Ewart, what is to be done then?'
'Why then, and in that case, I must keep off till night, and then run you, with the kegs and the rest of the lumber, ashore at Skinburness,'
'And then I am to meet with this same laird whom I have the letter for?' continued Fairford.
'That,' said Ewart, 'is thereafter as it may be; the ship has its course--the fair trader has his port--but it is not easy to say where the laird may be found. But he will be within twenty miles of us, off or on--and it will be my business to guide you to him.'
Fairford could not withstand the passing impulse of terror which crossed him, when thus reminded that he was so absolutely in the power of a man, who, by his own account, had been a pirate, and who was at present, in all probability, an outlaw as well as a contraband trader. Nanty Ewart guessed the cause of his involuntary shuddering.
'What the devil should I gain,' he said, 'by passing so poor a card as you are? Have I not had ace of trumps in my hand, and did I not play it fairly? Aye, I say the JUMPING JENNY can run in other ware as well as kegs. Put SIGMA and TAU to Ewart, and see how that will spell--D'ye take me now?'
'No indeed,' said Fairford; 'I am utterly ignorant of what you allude to.'
'Now, by Jove!' said Nanty Ewart, 'thou art either the deepest or the shallowest fellow I ever met with--or you are not right after all. I wonder where Summertrees could pick up such a tender along-shore. Will you let me see his letter?'
Fairford did not hesitate to gratify his wish, which, he was aware, he could not easily resist. The master of the JUMPING JENNY looked at the direction very attentively, then turned the letter to and fro, and examined each flourish of the pen, as if he were judging of a piece of ornamented manuscript; then handled it back to Fairford, without a single word of remark.
'Am I right now?' said the young lawyer.
'Why, for that matter,' answered Nanty, 'the letter is right, sure enough; but whether you are right or not, is your own business rather than mine.' And, striking upon a flint with the back of a knife, he kindled a cigar as thick as his finger, and began to smoke away with great perseverance.
Alan Fairford continued to regard him with a melancholy feeling, divided betwixt the interest he took in the unhappy man, and a not unnatural apprehension for the issue of his own adventure.
Ewart, notwithstanding the stupefying nature of his pastime, seemed to guess what was working in his passenger's mind; for, after they had remained some time engaged in silently observing each other, he suddenly dashed his cigar on the deck, and said to him, 'Well then, if you are sorry for
So saying he jumped on his feet, and, tripping up and down the deck, gave his orders with his usual clearness and decision, notwithstanding the considerable quantity of spirits which he had contrived to swallow while recounting his history.
Although far from feeling well, Fairford endeavoured to rouse himself and walk to the head of the brig, to enjoy the beautiful prospect, as well as to take some note of the course which the vessel held. To his great surprise, instead of standing across to the opposite shore from which she had departed, the brig was going down the Firth, and apparently steering into the Irish Sea. He called to Nanty Ewart, and expressed his surprise at the course they were pursuing, and asked why they did not stand straight across the Firth for some port in Cumberland.
'Why, this is what I call a reasonable question, now,' answered Nanty; 'as if a ship could go as straight to its port as a horse to the stable, or a free-trader could sail the Solway as securely as a King's cutter! Why, I'll tell ye, brother--if I do not see a smoke on Bowness, that is the village upon the headland yonder, I must stand out to sea for twenty-four hours at least, for we must keep the weather-gage if there are hawks abroad.'
'And if you do see the signal of safety, Master Ewart, what is to be done then?'
'Why then, and in that case, I must keep off till night, and then run you, with the kegs and the rest of the lumber, ashore at Skinburness,'
'And then I am to meet with this same laird whom I have the letter for?' continued Fairford.
'That,' said Ewart, 'is thereafter as it may be; the ship has its course--the fair trader has his port--but it is not easy to say where the laird may be found. But he will be within twenty miles of us, off or on--and it will be my business to guide you to him.'
Fairford could not withstand the passing impulse of terror which crossed him, when thus reminded that he was so absolutely in the power of a man, who, by his own account, had been a pirate, and who was at present, in all probability, an outlaw as well as a contraband trader. Nanty Ewart guessed the cause of his involuntary shuddering.
'What the devil should I gain,' he said, 'by passing so poor a card as you are? Have I not had ace of trumps in my hand, and did I not play it fairly? Aye, I say the JUMPING JENNY can run in other ware as well as kegs. Put SIGMA and TAU to Ewart, and see how that will spell--D'ye take me now?'
'No indeed,' said Fairford; 'I am utterly ignorant of what you allude to.'
'Now, by Jove!' said Nanty Ewart, 'thou art either the deepest or the shallowest fellow I ever met with--or you are not right after all. I wonder where Summertrees could pick up such a tender along-shore. Will you let me see his letter?'
Fairford did not hesitate to gratify his wish, which, he was aware, he could not easily resist. The master of the JUMPING JENNY looked at the direction very attentively, then turned the letter to and fro, and examined each flourish of the pen, as if he were judging of a piece of ornamented manuscript; then handled it back to Fairford, without a single word of remark.
'Am I right now?' said the young lawyer.
'Why, for that matter,' answered Nanty, 'the letter is right, sure enough; but whether you are right or not, is your own business rather than mine.' And, striking upon a flint with the back of a knife, he kindled a cigar as thick as his finger, and began to smoke away with great perseverance.
Alan Fairford continued to regard him with a melancholy feeling, divided betwixt the interest he took in the unhappy man, and a not unnatural apprehension for the issue of his own adventure.
Ewart, notwithstanding the stupefying nature of his pastime, seemed to guess what was working in his passenger's mind; for, after they had remained some time engaged in silently observing each other, he suddenly dashed his cigar on the deck, and said to him, 'Well then, if you are sorry for