"There's two large casks, too, sir; I've spiled them, and they prove to be puncheons of rum," bawled Newton, who pertinaciously continued.

"Eh; what?--casks! what casks?"

"Two puncheons of rum."

"Rum!--did you say rum?" cried old Thompson, lifting his head off the pillow, and staring stupidly at Newton; "where?"

"On deck. Two casks: we picked them up as we were standing off the land."

"Picked them up?--are they on board?" inquired the master, sitting upright in his bed, and rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, they're safe on board. Won't you come on deck?"

"To be sure, I will. Two puncheons of rum, you said?"--and old Thompson gained his feet, and reeled to the companion ladder, holding on by _all fours_, as he climbed up without his shoes.

When the master of the sloop had satisfied himself as to the contents of the casks, which he did by taking about half a tumbler of each, Newton proposed that the trunk should be opened. "Yes," replied Thompson, who had drawn off a mug of the spirits, with which he was about to descend to the cabin, "open it, if you like, my boy. You have made a _bon prize_ to-day, and your share shall be the trunk; so you may keep it, and the things that are stowed away in it, for your trouble: but don't forget to secure the casks till we can stow them away below. We can't break bulk now; but the sooner they are down the better; or we shall have some quill-driving rascal on board, with his _flotsam_ and _jetsam_, for the _Lord knows who_;" and Thompson, to use his own expression, went down again "to lay his soul in soak."

Reader, do you know the meaning of _flotsam_ and _jetsam_? None but a lawyer can, for it is old law language. Now, there is a slight difference between language in general and law language. The first was invented to enable us to explain our own meaning, and comprehend the ideas of others; whereas, the second was invented with the view that we should not be able to understand a word about it. In former times, when all law, except _club_ law, was in its infancy, and pract.i.tioners not so erudite, or so thriving as at present, it was thought advisable to render it unintelligible by inventing a sort of _lingo_, compounded of bad French, grafted upon worse Latin, forming a mongrel and incomprehensible race of words, with French heads and Latin tails, which answered the purpose intended--that of mystification.--Flotsam and jetsam are of this breed. Flot, derived from the French _flottant_, floating; and jet, from the verb _jeter_, to _throw up_; both used in seignoral rights, granted by kings to favourites, empowering them to take possession of the property of any man who might happen to be unfortunate, which was in those times tantamount to being guilty. I dare say, if one could see the deed thus empowering them to confiscate the goods and chattels of others for their own use, according to the wording of the learned clerks in those days, it would run thus:--"Omnium quod flotsam et jetsam, et every thing else-um, quod findetes;" in plain English, "every thing floating or thrown up, and every thing else you may pick up." Now the admiral of the coast had this piratical privilege: and as, in former days, s.e.xtants and chronometers were unknown, sea-faring men incurred more risk than they do at present, and the wrecks which strewed the coast were of very great value. I had a proof the other day that this right is still exacted; that is as far as regards property _unclaimed_. I had arrived at Plymouth from the Western Islands. When we hove up our anchor at St. Michael's, we found another anchor and cable hooked most lovingly to our own, to the great joy of the first-lieutenant who proposed buying silk handkerchiefs for every man in the ship, and expending the residue in paint. But we had not been at anchor in Plymouth Sound more than twenty four hours, and he hardly had time to communicate with the gentlemen-dealers in marine stores, when I received a notification from some lynx-eyed agent of the present admiral of the coast (who is a lawyer, I believe), requesting the immediate delivery of the anchor and cable,--upon the plea of his seignoral rights of _flotsam_ and _jetsam_. Now the idea was as preposterous as the demand was impudent. We had picked up the anchor in the roadstead of a _foreign power_, about fifteen hundred miles distant from the English coast.

We are all lawyers, _now_, on board ship; so I gave him one of my legal answers, "that in the first place, _flotsam_ meant floating, and anchors did not float; in the second place, that _jetsam_ meant thrown up, and anchors never were thrown up; in the third and last place, _I'd see him d.a.m.ned first_!"

My arguments were unanswerable. Counsel for the plaintiff (I presume) threw up his brief, for we heard no more of "_Mr Flotsam and Jetsam_."

But to proceed:--The man and boy, who, with Newton, composed the whole crew, seemed perfectly to acquiesce in the distribution made by the master of the sloop; taking it for granted that their silence, as to the liquor being on board, would be purchased by a share of it, as long as it lasted.

They repaired forward with a panikin from the cask, with which they regaled themselves, while Newton stood at the helm. In half an hour Newton called the boy aft to steer the vessel, and lifted the trunk into the cabin below, where he found that Thompson had finished the major part of the contents of the mug, and was lying in a state of drunken stupefaction.

The hasp of the lock was soon removed by a claw-hammer, and the contents of the trunk exposed to Newton's view. They consisted chiefly of female wearing apparel and child's linen; but, with these articles there was a large packet of letters, addressed to Madame Louise de Montmorenci, the contents of which were a mystery to Newton, who did not understand French. There were also a red morocco case, containing a few diamond ornaments, and three or four crosses of different orders of knighthood.

All the wearing apparel of the lady was marked with the initials LM, while those appertaining to the infant were marked with the letters JF.

After a careful examination, Newton spread out the clothes to dry, over the cabin lockers and table; and depositing the articles of value in a safe place, he returned on deck. Although Thompson had presented him with the trunk and its contents, he felt that they could not be considered as his property, and he determined to replace every thing, and, upon his return, consult his father as, to the proper measures which should be taken to discover who were the lawful owners.

The sloop, under the direction of Newton, had continued her course for two days against the adverse, yet light breeze, when the weather changed. The wind still held to the same quarter: but the sky became loaded with clouds, and the sun set with a dull red glare, which prognosticated a gale from the North West; and before morning the vessel was pitching through a short chopping sea. By noon the gale was at its height; and Newton, perceiving that the sloop did not "hold her own,"

went down to rouse the master, to inquire what steps should be taken, as he considered it advisable to bear up; and the only port under their lee for many miles was one, with the navigation of which he was himself unacquainted.

The vessel was under close-reefed mainsail and storm foresail, almost buried in the heavy sea, which washed over the deck from forward to the companion hatch, when Newton went down to rouse the besotted Thompson, who, having slept through the night without having had recourse to additional stimulus, was more easy to awaken than before.

"Eh! what?--blows hard--whew!--so it does. How's the wind?" said the master, throwing his feet outside the standing bed-place, as he sat up.

"North West, veering to Nor'-Nor'-West in the squalls.--We have lost good ten miles since yesterday evening, and are close to Dudden Sands,"

replied Newton. "I think we must bear up, for the gale shows no signs of breaking."

"Well, I'll be on deck in a moment, my boy," rejoined Thompson, who was now quite himself again, and was busy putting on his shoes, the only articles which had been removed when he turned in. "Go you up, and see that they keep her clean, full and bye--and those casks well secured.-- Dudden Sands--awkward place too--but I've not been forty years a-boxing about this coast for nothing."

In a minute Thompson made his appearance on deck, and steadying himself by the weather topmast backstay, fixed his leaden eyes upon the land on the quarter.--"All right younker, that's the head, sure enough;" then turning his face to the wind, which lifted up his grey curling locks, and bore them out horizontally from his fur cap, "and it's a devil of a gale, sure enough.--It may last a month of Sundays for all I know.--Up with the helm, Tom.--Ease off the main sheet, handsomely, my lad--not too much.--Now, take in the slack, afore she jibes;" and the master ducked under the main boom and took his station on the other side of the deck. "Steady as you go now.--Newton, take the helm.--D'ye see that bluff? keep her right for it. Tom, you and the boy rouse the cable up-- get about ten fathoms on deck, and bend it.--You'll find a bit of seizing and a marline-spike in the locker abaft."--The sloop scudded before the gale, and in less than two hours was close to the headland pointed out by the master. "Now, Newton, we must hug the point or we shall not fetch--clap on the main sheet here, all of us.--Luff; you may handsomely.--That's all right; we are past the Sand-head, and shall be in smooth water in a jiffy. Steady, so-o.--Now for a drop of _swizzle_," cried Thompson, who considered that he had kept sober quite long enough, and proceeded to the cask of rum lashed to leeward. As he knelt down to pull out the spile, the sloop, which had been brought to the wind, was struck on her broadside by a heavy sea which careened her to her gunnel; the lashings of the weather cask gave way, and it flew across the deck, jamming the unfortunate Thompson, who knelt against the one to leeward, and then bounding overboard. The old man gave a heavy groan, and fell upon his back; the man and boy ran to his a.s.sistance, and by the directions of Newton, who could not quit the helm, carried him below, and placed him on his bed. In a few minutes the sloop was safe at anchor, in smooth water, and Newton ran down into the cabin.

Thompson's head had been crushed against the chime of the cask; for an hour or two he breathed heavily; and then--he was no more!

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SIX.

The Indian weed, unknown to ancient times, Nature's choice gift, whose acrimonious fume Extracts superfluous juices, and refines The blood distemper'd from its noxious salts; Friend to the spirit, which with vapours bland It gently mitigates--companion fit Of a _good pot of porter_.

PHILLIPS.

There's a pot of good double beer, neighbour, Drink-- SHAKESPEARE.

The next day the remains of old Thompson were carried on sh.o.r.e in the long-boat, and buried in the churchyard of the small fishing town that was within a mile of the port where the sloop had anch.o.r.ed. Newton shipped another man, and when the gale was over, continued his voyage; which was accomplished without further adventure.

Finding no cargo ready for him, and anxious to deliver up the vessel to the owner, who resided at Overton, he returned in ballast, and communicated the intelligence of Thompson's death; which in so small a town was long the theme of conversation, and the food of gossips.

Newton consulted with his father relative to the disposal of the trunk; but Nicholas could a.s.sist him but little with his advice. After many _pros_ and _cons_, like all other difficult matters, it was postponed.--"Really, Newton, I can't say. The property certainly is not yours, but still we are not likely to find out the lawful owner. Bring the trunk on sh.o.r.e, we'll nail it up, and perhaps we may hear something about it by and bye. We'll make some inquiries--by and bye--when your mother--"

"I think," interrupted Newton, "it would not be advisable to acquaint my mother with the circ.u.mstance; but how to satisfy her curiosity on that point, I must leave to you."

"To me, boy! no; I think that you had better manage that, for you know you are only _occasionally_ at home."

"Well, father, be it so," replied Newton, laughing: "but here comes Mr Dragwell and Mr Hilton, to consult with us what ought to be done relative to the effects of poor old Thompson. He has neither kith nor kin, to the ninety-ninth degree, that we can find out."

Mr Dragwell was the curate of the parish; a little fat man with bow-legs, who always sat upon the edge of the chair, leaning against the back, and twiddling his thumbs before him. He was facetious and good-tempered, but was very dilatory in every thing. His greatest peculiarity was, that although he had a hearty laugh for every joke, he did not take the jokes of others at the time that they were made. His ideas seemed to have the slow and silent flow ascribed to the stream of lava (without its fire): and the consequence was, that although he eventually laughed at a good thing, it was never at the same time with other people; but in about a quarter or half a minute afterwards (according to the difficulty of the a.n.a.lysis), when the cause had been dismissed for other topics, he would burst out in a hearty Ha, ha, ha!

Mr Hilton was the owner of the sloop: he was a tall, corpulent man, who for many years had charge of a similar vessel, until by "doing a little contraband," he had pocketed a sufficient sum to enable him to purchase one for himself. But the profits being more than sufficient for his wants, he had for some time remained on sh.o.r.e, old Thompson having charge of the vessel. He was a good-tempered, jolly fellow, very fond of his pipe and his pot, and much more fond of his sloop, by the employment of which he was supplied with all his comforts. He pa.s.sed most of the day sitting at the door of his house, which looked upon the anchorage, exchanging a few words with every one that pa.s.sed by, but invariably upon one and the same topic--his sloop. If she was at anchor--"There she is," he would say, pointing to her with the stem of his pipe. If she was away, she had sailed on such a day;--he expected her back at such a time. It was a fair wind--it was a foul wind for his sloop. All his ideas were engrossed by this one darling object, and it was no easy task to divert him from it.

I ought to have mentioned that Mr Dragwell, the curate, was invariably accompanied by Mr Spinney, the clerk of the parish, a little spare man, with a few white hairs straggling on each side of a bald pate. He always took his tune whether in or out of church from his superior, ejecting a small treble "He, he, he!" in response to the loud Ha, ha, ha! of the curate.

"Peace be unto this house!" observed the curate as he crossed the threshold, for Mrs Forster's character was notorious; then laughing at his own wit with a Ha, ha, ha!

"He, he, he!"

"Good morning, Mr Forster, how is your good lady?"

"She's safe moored at last," interrupted Mr Hilton.

"Who?" demanded the curate, with surprise.

"Why, the sloop, to be sure."

"Oh! I thought you meant the lady--Ha, ha, ha!"

"He, he, he!"

"Won't you sit down, gentlemen?" said Nicholas, showing the way from the shop into the parlour, where they found Mrs Forster, who had just come in from the back premises.

"Hope you're well, Mr Curate," sharply observed the lady, who could not be persuaded, even from respect for the cloth, to be commonly civil--"take a chair; it's all covered with dust! but that Betsy is such an idle s.l.u.t!"

"Newton handles her, as well as any man going," observed Hilton.

"Newton!" screamed the lady, turning to her son, with an angry inquiring look--"Newton handles Betsy!" continued she, turning round to Hilton.

"Betsy! no; the sloop I meant, ma'am."