LITMIR.BIZ

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been a mirror, to reflect the contortions of one suffering under the malady of the sea.

      "Parbleu, c'est horrible cette mer!" he ejaculated; when the other had done. "It is grand malheur, dere should be watair but for drink, and for la propreté, avec fosse to keep de carp round le château. Mais, Mam'selle be no haste jugement, and she shall have mari on la terre solide."

      "'Twould be better, that the estate of my brother-in-law should be kept in sight, judicious François, than to be sent adrift on the high seas."

      "Dere vas marin dans la famille de Barbérie nevair."

      "Bonds and balances! if the savings of one I could name, frugal François, were added in current coin the sum-total would sink a common ship. You know it is my intention to remember Alida, in settling accounts with the world."

      "If Monsieur de Barbérie vas 'live, Monsieur Alderman, he should say des choses convenables; mais, malheureusement, mon chèr, maître est mort; and, sair, I shall be bold to remercier pour lui, et pour toute sa famille."

      "Women are perverse, and sometimes they have pleasure in doing the very thing they are desired not to do."

      "Ma foi, oui!"

      "Prudent men should manage them with soft words and rich gifts; with these, they become orderly as a pair of well-broke geldings."

      "Monsieur know," said the old valet, rubbing his hands, and laughing with the subdued voice of a well-bred domestic, though he could not conceal a jocular wink; "pourtant il est garcon! Le cadeau be good for de demoiselles, and bettair as for de dames."

      "Wedlock and blinkers! it is we gâssons, as you call us, who ought to know. Your hen-pecked husband has no time to generalize among the sex, in order to understand the real quality of the article. Now, here is Van Staats of Kinderhook, faithful François; what think you of such a youth for a husband for Alida?"

      "Pourtant, Mam'selle like de vivacité; Monsieur le Patroon be nevair trop vif."

      "The more likely to be sure—Hist, I hear a footstep. We are followed—chased, perhaps, I should say, to speak in the language of these sea-gentry. Now is the time to show this Captain Ludlow, how a Frenchman can wind him round his finger, on terra-firma. Loiter in the rear, and draw our navigator on a wrong course. When he has run into a fog, come yourself, with all speed, to the oak on the bluff. There we shall await you."

      Flattered by this confidence, and really persuaded that he was furthering the happiness of her he served, the old valet nodded, in reply to the Alderman's wink and chuckle, and immediately relaxed his speed. The former pushed ahead; and, in a minute, he and those who followed had turned short to the left, and were out of sight.

      Though faithfully and even affectionately attached to Alida, her servant had many of the qualifications of an European domestic. Trained in all the ruses of his profession, he was of that school which believes civilization is to be measured by artifice; and success lost some of its value, when it had been effected by the vulgar machinery of truth and common sense. No wonder then the retainer entered into the views of the Alderman, with more than a usual relish for the duty. He heard the cracking of the dried twigs beneath the footstep of him who followed; and in order that there might be no chance of missing the desired interview, the valet began to hum a French air, in so loud a key, as to be certain the sounds would reach any ear that was nigh. The twigs snapped more rapidly, the footsteps seemed nearer, and then the hero of the India-shawl sprang to the side of the expecting François.

      The disappointment seemed mutual, and on the part of the domestic it entirely disconcerted all his pre-arranged schemes for misleading the commander of the Coquette. Not so with the bold mariner. So far from his self-possession being disturbed, it would have been no easy matter to restrain his audacity ever in situations far more trying than any in which he has yet been presented to the reader.

      "What cheer, in thy woodland cruise, Monsieur Broad-Pennant?" he said, with infinite coolness, the instant his steady glance had ascertained they were alone. "This is safer navigation for an officer of thy draught of water, than running about the bay, in a periagua. What may be the longitude, and where-a-way did you part company from the consorts?"

      "Sair, I valk in de vood for de plaisir, and I go on de bay for de—parbleu, non! 'tis to follow ma jeune maîtresse I go on de bay; and, sair, I wish dey who do love de bay and de sea, would not come into de vood, du tout."

      "Well spoken, and with ample spirit;—what, a student too! one in a wood should glean something from his labors. Is it the art of furling a main cue, that is taught in this pretty volume?"

      As the mariner put his question, he very deliberately took the book from François, who, instead of resenting the liberty, rather offered the volume, in exultation.

      "No, sair, it is not how to furl la queue, but how to touch de soul; not de art to haul over de calm, but—oui, c'est plein de connoissance et d'esprit! Ah! ha! you know de Cid! le grand homme! l'homme de génie! If you read, Monsieur Marin, you shall see la vraie poésie! Not de big book and no single rhyme—Sair, I do not vish to say vat is penible, mais it is not one book widout rhyme; it was not écrit on de sea. Le diable! que le vrai génie, et les nobles sentiments, se trouvent dans ce livre, la!"

      "Ay, I see it is a log-book, for every man to note his mind in. I return you Master Cid, with his fine sentiments, in the bargain. Great as was his genius, it would seem he was not the man to write all that I find between the leaves."

      "He not write him all! Yes, sair, he shall write him six time more dan all, if la France a besoin. Que l'envie de ces Anglais se découvre quand on parle des beaux génies de la France!"

      "I will only say, if the gentleman wrote the whole that is in the book, and it is as fine as you would make a plain seafaring man believe, he did wrong not to print it."

      "Print!" echoed François, opening his eyes, and the volume, by a common impulse, "Imprimé! ha! here is papier of Mam'selle Alide, assurément."

      "Take better heed of it then," interrupted the seaman of the shawl. "As for your Cid, to me it is an useless volume, since it teaches neither the latitude of a shoal, nor the shape of a coast."

      "Sair, it teach de morale; de rock of de passion et les grands mouvements de l'ame! Oui, Sair; it teach all, un Monsieur vish to know. Tout le monde read him in la France; en province, comme en ville. If sa Majesté, le Grand Louis, be not so mal avisé, as to chasser Messieurs les Huguenots from his royaume, I shall go to Paris, to hear le Cid, moi-même!"

      "A good journey to you, Monsieur Cue. We may meet on the road, until which time I take my departure. The day may come, when we shall converse with a rolling sea beneath us. Till then, brave cheer!"

      "Adieu, Monsieur," returned François, bowing with a politeness that had become too familiar to be forgotten. "If we do not meet but in de sea, we shall not meet, nevair. Ah, ha, ha! Monsieur le Marin n'aime pas à entendre parler de la gloire de la France! Je voudrais bien savoir lire ce f—e Shak-a-spear, pour voir, combien l'immortel Corneille lui est supérieur. Ma foi, oui; Monsieur Pierre Corneille est vraiment un homme illustre!"

      The faithful, self-complacent, and aged valet then pursued his way towards the large oak on the bluff; for as he ceased speaking, the mariner of the gay sash had turned deeper into the woods, and left him alone. Proud of the manner, in which he had met the audacity of the stranger, prouder still of the reputation of the author, whose fame had been known in France long before his own departure from Europe, and not a little consoled with the reflection that he had contributed his mite to support the honor of his distant and well-beloved country, the honest François pressed the volume affectionately beneath his arm, and hastened on after his mistress.

      Though the position of Staten Island and its surrounding bays is so familiar to the Manhattanese an explanation of the localities may be agreeable to readers who dwell at a distance from the scene of the tale.

      It has already been said, that the principal communication between the bays of Raritan and York, is called the Narrows. At the mouth of this passage, the land on Staten Island rises in a high bluff, which overhangs the water, not unlike the tale-fraught cape of Misenum.

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