Margaret Capel Volume Ii Part 9

Und ein edler Volk hat einst gelebt.

Konnte die Geschichte davon schweigen Tausend Steine wurden redend zeugen Die man aus dem Schooss der Erde grabt.

Doch es ist dahin, es ist verschwunden, Dieses hochbegunstigste Geschlecht; Wir, wir leben! Unser sind die Stunden, Und der Lebende hat Recht.

SCHILLER.

"And so you wish you were a pirate, Miss Fitzpatrick," said Mr. Haveloc, as they stood on the deck of his yacht. "I commend your taste. These pirates were pretty fellows in rhyme."

"It would be rather late in the day to commence Viking, would it not?"

said Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

"Oh no!" said Mr. Haveloc; "my yacht is quite at Miss Fitzpatrick's service. I do not despair of her making prize of some solitary fishing boat on a dark night. And only think, Miss Fitzpatrick, how excellent the herrings would taste, that you had come by in so meritorious a way."

"I wished to be descended from a pirate," said Aveline, "don't you perceive the amazing difference?"

"Oh, very great! You wish for all their propensities, without the power to put them in practice."

"After all, there were fine things done by those Vikinger," said Aveline. "They had courage."

"Oh, courage! that is born with a man; if he has it not, it is a deformity, not a vice. Just as if he were born without a nose."

"You would respect courage more, Mr. Haveloc," said Aveline, "if you knew what fear was."

"I never had such a compliment paid me before," said Mr. Haveloc, laughing.

"We have a right to pay you compliments, you know," said Mrs.

Fitzpatrick, who was seated a little apart, with a book in her hand.

"But you do not stand up for the water thieves, or land thieves either."

"He pretends to have no enthusiasm," said Aveline, smiling.

"On the contrary," said Mr. Haveloc, "I admit that time mellows the proceedings of such gentry; and I own to an enthusiastic desire to see them treated as they deserve."

"I was very glad, Miss Fitzpatrick, when our Calabrian friends were duly sent to the galleys."

"You could not have a prettier name for your yacht, 'the Ariel,'" said Aveline. "I am sure it is a beautiful craft, though I am no judge of such things."

"The Ariel was christened before I had her," said Mr. Haveloc. "If I meant to keep her, I should take the liberty to change her name."

"And what would you call her?" asked Aveline, with some curiosity.

Mr. Haveloc, hesitated a little, and then said, "the Pearl."

"And I am very fond of pearls," said Aveline. "How many things there are, Mr. Haveloc, the very names of which recalls much that is beautiful in poetry to one's memory. The Pearl, the violet, the lark."

"True enough," said Mr. Haveloc, "a robin is a prettier bird, but he has not been so much be-rhymed. A pistol is a handier weapon than a sword, but it would make a sorry figure in a lyric."

"And a grand pianoforte," said Aveline, laughing, "will never be appreciated with tears and moonlight, like a lute."

"And a rascally pirate will be hung in chains, to the great delight of all sober people, while a horse Viking, or even a Spanish buccaneer, would be exalted in ballad, or blank verse."

"Allow," said Aveline, "that people cannot live _well_, who live only in the present time."

"And that people cannot live wisely, who live in the past or the future," said Mr. Haveloc.

"I do not know whether it is too serious an allusion," said Aveline; "but I cannot help recollecting that 'the children of this world are wiser in their generation, than the children of light.'"

Mr. Haveloc remained silent for some moments. "I wonder what that means exactly," said he, at last.

"It means, I think, to give some little comfort to the upright, when they find that all through their lives they are wronged and surpa.s.sed by those who are unscrupulous in their tools and weapons," said Mrs.

Fitzpatrick.

"Cold comfort," said Mr. Haveloc, still musing.

"I think not so," replied Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "I think it is comfort enough if an honest man is told, on the highest authority--it will be so--you will not surpa.s.s--you will not be enriched--you will not be well spoken of, like your unprincipled neighbour--you will be deceived and impoverished by those who are more skilful than yourself, skilful in arts which your profession forbids you to use. If they are not told this, they might become restless and dissatisfied, and attribute to themselves some of the failure which belongs to the fact, that this world is the home of the wicked, but a strange land to the Christian pilgrim."

Mr. Haveloc, seemed much struck by her remarks, but remained silent.

"Mr. Lindsay is an ill.u.s.tration of mamma's idea," said Aveline, "he is much too honest ever to be rich. Plain dealing never answers with common minds; and I leave you to judge of the proportion of superior people that fall in the way of a country pract.i.tioner."

"You think with the old poet," said Mr. Haveloc.

"The stars are not more distant from the earth, Than profit is from honesty!"

"That is very well said," remarked Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "whose is it?"

"Beaumont and Fletcher's," he replied.

"I wish you would read to us 'The Faithful Shepherdess,'" said Aveline, "you were to have done so at Sorrento, only you had not the Author with you."

"Willingly, if you are in the humour for it," said Mr. Haveloc; "but first, Miss Fitzpatrick, I must see you look a little more comfortable; I shall order up a heap of cushions, and install you like 'Lalla Rookh,'

before I begin to read."

"Oh! what a Sybarite!" cried Aveline, as he arranged a pile of red silk cushions for her upon the deck, "do look, mamma!"

"I am much obliged to Mr. Haveloc," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "and feel very little disposed to quarrel with his luxurious equipments, for really Aveline you do begin to look rather f.a.gged."

"I hope he is clever, this country pract.i.tioner," said Mr. Haveloc, looking up suddenly from his task.

"Clever!" cried Aveline. "Mamma would be highly offended with any one else who should presume to call her Mr. Lindsay clever. He is a man of excellent judgment, Mr. Haveloc."

"I am glad of it," said Mr. Haveloc, "for your sake."

Aveline smiled and settled herself to listen.

The day was beautiful, the coast in the distance was reduced to a miniature picture steeped in the most delicious and variegated tints.

The air was hot and still, and nothing interrupted the silence but the flapping of a sail, and the gentle sound of the water rising and falling slowly against the side of the vessel.

"We make but little way," said Mr. Haveloc.