The Two Admirals (19 page)

Mrs. Dutton was silent and thoughtful. The years of Admiral Bluewater
did not absolutely forbid his regarding Mildred's extreme beauty, with
the eyes of ordinary admiration; but his language, and most of all, his
character, ought to repel the intrusive suspicion. Still Mildred was
surpassingly lovely, and men were surpassingly weak in matters of love.
Many a hero had passed a youth of self-command and discretion, to
consummate some act of exceeding folly, of this very nature, in the
decline of life; and bitter experience had taught her to be distrustful.
Nevertheless, she could not, at once, bring herself to think ill of one,
whose character she had so long respected; and, with all the
rear-admiral's directness of manner, there was so much real and feeling
delicacy, blended with the breeding of a gentleman-like sailor, that it
was not easy to suppose he had any other motives than those he saw fit
to avow. Mildred had made many a friend, by a sweetness of countenance,
that was even more winning, than her general beauty of face and form was
attractive; and why should not this respectable old seaman be of the
number.

This train of thought was interrupted by the sudden and unwelcome
appearance of Dutton. He had just returned from the bed-side of Sir
Wycherly, and now came to seek his wife and daughter, to bid them
prepare to enter the chariot, which was in waiting to convey them home.
The miserable man was not intoxicated, in the sense which deprives a man
of the use of speech and limbs; but he had drunk quite enough to awaken
the demon within him, and to lay bare the secrets of his true character.
If any thing, his nerves were better strung than common; but the wine
had stirred up all the energies of a being, whose resolutions seldom
took the direction of correct feeling, or of right doing. The darkness
of the room, and a slight confusion which nevertheless existed in his
brain, prevented him from noticing the person of his superior, seated,
as the latter was, in the dark corner; and he believed himself once more
alone with those who were so completely dependent on his mercy, and who
had so long been the subjects of his brutality and tyranny.

"I hope Sir Wycherly is better, Dutton," the wife commenced, fearful
that her husband might expose himself and her, before he was aware of
the presence in which he stood. "Admiral Bluewater is as anxious, as we
are ourselves, to know his real state."

"Ay, you women are all pity and feeling for baronets and rear-admirals,"
answered Dutton, throwing himself rudely into a chair, with his back
towards the stranger, in an attitude completely to exclude the latter
from his view; "while a husband, or father, might die a hundred deaths,
and not draw a look of pity from your beautiful eyes, or a kind word
from your devilish tongues."

"Neither Mildred nor I, merit this from
you
, Dutton!"

"No, you're both perfection; like mother, like child. Haven't I been,
fifty times, at death's door, with this very complaint of Sir
Wycherly's, and did either of you ever send for an apothecary, even?"

"You have been occasionally indisposed, Dutton, but never apoplectic;
and we have always thought a little sleep would restore you; as, indeed,
it always has."

"What business had you to
think
? Surgeons think, and medical men, and
it was your duty to send for the nearest professional man, to look after
one you're bound both to honour and obey. You are your own mistress,
Martha, I do suppose, in a certain degree; and what can't be cured must
be endured; but Mildred is my child; and I'll have her respect and love,
if I break both your hearts in order to get at them."

"A pious daughter always respects her parent, Dutton," said the wife,
trembling from head to foot; "but love must come willingly, or, it will
not come at all."

"We'll see as to that, Mrs. Martha Dutton; we'll see as to that. Come
hither, Mildred; I have a word to say to you, which may as well be said
at once."

Mildred, trembling like her mother, drew near; but with a feeling of
filial piety, that no harshness could entirely smother, she felt anxious
to prevent the father from further exposing himself, in the presence of
Admiral Bluewater. With this view, then, and with this view only, she
summoned firmness enough to speak.

"Father," she said, "had we not better defer our family matters, until
we are alone?"

Under ordinary circumstances, Bluewater would not have waited for so
palpable a hint, for he would have retired on the first appearance of
any thing so disagreeable as a misunderstanding between man and wife.
But, an ungovernable interest in the lovely girl, who stood trembling at
her father's knee, caused him to forget his habitual delicacy of
feeling, and to overlook what might perhaps be termed almost a law of
society. Instead of moving, therefore, as Mildred had both hoped and
expected, he remained motionless in his seat. Dutton's mind was too
obtuse to comprehend his daughter's allusions, in the absence, of ocular
evidence of a stranger's presence, and his wrath was too much excited to
permit him to think much of any thing but his own causes of indignation.

"Stand more in front of me, Mildred," he answered, angrily. "More before
my face, as becomes one who don't know her duty to her parent, and needs
be taught it."

"Oh! Dutton," exclaimed the afflicted wife; "do not—do not—accuse
Mildred of being undutiful! You know not what you say—know not her
obliga—you cannot know her
heart
, or you would not use these cruel
imputations!"

"Silence, Mrs. Martha Dutton—my business is not with
you
, at present,
but with this young lady, to whom, I hope, I may presume to speak a
little plainly, as she is my own child. Silence, then, Mrs. Martha
Dutton. If my memory is not treacherous, you once stood up before God's
altar with me, and there vow'd to love, honour, and
obey
. Yes, that
was the word;
obey
, Mrs. Martha Dutton."

"And what did
you
promise, at the same time, Frank?" exclaimed the
wife, from whose bruised spirit this implied accusation was torn in an
agony of mental suffering.

"Nothing but what I have honestly and manfully performed. I promised to
provide for you; to give you food and raiment; to let you hear my name,
and stand before the world in the honourable character of honest Frank
Dutton's wife."

"Honourable!" murmured the wife, loud enough to be heard by both the
Admiral and Mildred, and yet in a tone so smothered, as to elude the
obtuse sense of hearing, that long excess had left her husband. When
this expressive word had broken out of her very heart, however, she
succeeded in suppressing her voice, and sinking into a chair, concealed
her face in her hands, in silence.

"Mildred, come hither," resumed the brutalized parent. "
You
are my
daughter, and whatever others have promised at the altar, and forgotten,
a law of nature teaches you to obey me. You have two admirers, either of
whom you ought to be glad to secure, though there is a great preference
between them—"

"Father!" exclaimed Mildred, every feeling of her sensitive nature
revolting at this coarse allusion to a connection, and to sentiments,
that she was accustomed to view as among the most sacred and private of
her moral being. "Surely, you cannot mean what you say!"

"Like mother, like child! Let but disobedience and disrespect get
possession of a wife, and they are certain to run through a whole
family, even though there were a dozen children! Harkee, Miss Mildred,
it is
you
who don't happen to know what you say, while I understand
myself as well as most parents. Your mother would never acquaint you
with what I feel it a duty to put plainly before your judgment; and,
therefore, I expect you to listen as becomes a dutiful and affectionate
child. You can secure either of these young Wychecombes, and either of
them would be a good match for a poor, disgraced, sailing-master's
daughter."

"Father, I shall sink through the floor, if you say another word, in
this cruel manner!"

"No, dear; you'll neither sink nor swim, unless it be by making a bad,
or a good choice. Mr. Thomas Wychecombe is Sir Wycherly's heir, and must
be the next baronet, and possessor of this estate. Of course he is much
the best thing, and you ought to give him a preference."

"Dutton,
can
you, as a father and a Christian, give such heartless
counsel to your own child!" exclaimed Mrs. Dutton, inexpressibly shocked
at the want of principle, as well as at the want of feeling, discovered
in her husband's advice.

"Mrs. Martha Dutton, I can; and believe the counsel to be any thing but
heartless, too. Do you wish your daughter to be the wife of a miserable
signal-station keeper, when she may become Lady Wychecombe, with a
little prudent management, and the mistress of this capital old house,
and noble estate?"

"Father—father," interrupted Mildred, soothingly, though ready to sink
with shame at the idea of Admiral Bluewater's being an auditor of such a
conversation; "you forget yourself, and overlook my wishes. There is
little probability of Mr. Thomas Wychecombe's ever thinking of me as a
wife—or, indeed of anyone else's entertaining such thoughts."

"That will turn out, as you manage matters, Milly. Mr. Thomas Wychecombe
does not think of you as a
wife
, quite likely, just at this moment;
but the largest whales are taken by means of very small lines, when the
last are properly handled. This young lieutenant would have you
to-morrow; though a more silly thing than for you two to marry, could
not well be hit upon. He is only a lieutenant; and though his name is so
good a one, it does not appear that he has any particular right to it."

"And yet, Dutton, you were only a lieutenant when
you
married, and
your name was
nothing
in the way of interest, or preferment," observed
the mother, anxious to interpose some new feeling between her daughter,
and the cruel inference left by the former part of her husband's speech.
"We
then
thought all lay bright before us!"

"And so all would lie to this hour, Mrs. Dutton, but for that one silly
act of mine. A man with the charges of a family on him, little pay, and
no fortune, is driven to a thousand follies to hide his misery. You do
not strengthen your case by reminding me of
that
imprudence. But,
Mildred, I do not tell you to cut adrift this young Virginian, for he
may he of use in more ways than one. In the first place, you can play
him off against Mr. Thomas Wychecombe; and, in the second place, a
lieutenant is likely, one day, to be a captain; and the wife of a
captain in His Majesty's navy, is no disreputable birth. I advise you,
girl, to use this youngster as a bait to catch the heir with; and,
failing a good bite, to take up with the lad himself."

This was said dogmatically, but with a coarseness of manner that fully
corresponded with the looseness of the principles, and the utter want of
delicacy of feeling that alone could prompt such advice. Mrs. Dutton
fairly groaned, as she listened to her husband, for never before had he
so completely thrown aside the thin mask of decency that he ordinarily
wore; but Mildred, unable to control the burst of wild emotion that came
over her, broke away from the place she occupied at her father's knee,
and, as if blindly seeking protection in any asylum that she fancied
safe, found herself sobbing, as if her heart would break, in Admiral
Bluewater's arms.

Dutton followed the ungovernable, impulsive movement, with his eye, and
for the first time he became aware in whose presence he had been
exposing his native baseness. Wine had not so far the mastery of him, as
to blind him to all the consequences, though it did stimulate him to a
point that enabled him to face the momentary mortification of his
situation.

"I beg a thousand pardons, sir," he said, rising, and bowing low to his
superior; "I was totally ignorant that I had the honour to be in the
company of Admiral Bluewater—Admiral Blue, I find Jack calls you, sir;
ha-ha-ha—a familiarity which is a true sign of love and respect. I
never knew a captain, or a flag-officer, that got a regular, expressive
ship's name, that he wasn't the delight of the whole service. Yes, sir;
I find the people call Sir Gervaise, Little Jarvy, and yourself, Admiral
Blue—ha-ha-ha—an infallible sign of merit in the superior, and of love
in the men."

"I ought to apologize, Mr. Dutton, for making one, so unexpectedly to
myself, in a family council," returned the rear-admiral. "As for the
men, they are no great philosophers, though tolerable judges of when
they are well commanded, and well treated.—But, the hour is late, and
it was my intention to sleep in my own ship, to-night. The coach of Sir
Wycherly has been ordered to carry me to the landing, and I hope to have
your permission to see these ladies home in it."

The answer of Dutton was given with perfect self-possession, and in a
manner to show that he knew how to exercise the courtesies of life, or
to receive them, when in the humour.

"It is an honour, sir, they will not think of declining, if my wishes
are consulted," he said. "Come, Milly, foolish girl, dry your tears,
and smile on Admiral Bluewater, for his condescension. Young women, sir,
hardly know how to take a joke; and our ship's humours are sometimes a
little strong for them. I tell my dear wife, sometimes—'Wife,' I say,
'His Majesty can't have stout-hearted and stout-handed seamen, and the
women poets and die-away swains, and all in the same individual,' says
I. Mrs. Dutton understands me, sir; and so does little Milly; who is an
excellent girl in the main; though a little addicted to using the
eye-pumps, as we have it aboard ship, sir."

"And, now, Mr. Dutton, it being understood that I am to see the ladies
home, will you do me the favour to inquire after the condition of Sir
Wycherly. One would not wish to quit his hospitable roof, in uncertainty
as to his actual situation."