For guilty states do ever bear
The plagues about them which they have deserved;
And, till those plagues do get above
The mountain of our faults, and there do sit,
We see them not. Thus, still we love
The evil we do, until we suffer it.
BEN JONSON
The Buccaneer welcomed the young man with greater warmth than is usually
displayed, except to near and dear connections. It must be remembered,
also, he had arrived at that period of life when feelings of affection
and friendship stagnate somewhat in the veins, and curdle into apathy.
Few are there who have numbered fifty winters without wondering what
could have set their blood boiling and their hearts beating so warmly
some few years before. A benison upon a smiling lip, a kindly eye, and a
cheerful voice!--whether they belong to the young or to the old--may all
such true graces be long preserved from the blight called "knowledge of
the world!" which, while bestowing information with the one hand, takes
away innocence and hope with the other.--But to the story.
The young Cavalier greeted his associate more as a friend than a
companion: there was evidently between them that good understanding
which, arising from acquaintance with the better points of character,
produces mutual esteem; and although there was a degree of deference
paid to Hugh Dalton by the youth, it seemed a compliment to his age and
experience, gracefully and naturally rendered, and kindly and thankfully
received. It was obvious that Dalton so considered it; receiving
attention far less as his due, than as a voluntary offering for which he
desired to show his gratitude.
There was, nevertheless, something of pity mingled with regard, which
the youth manifested towards his chafed companion, as he took the seat
that had been occupied by Burrell, and, laying his hand upon the
powerful arm of the Buccaneer, inquired, in a touching and anxious tone,
if aught had particularly disturbed him.
"Walter, no--nothing very particular; for knavery and villany are seldom
rare, and I have been long accustomed to treat with both; only it's too
bad to have more unclean spirits than one's own harpying and haunting a
man! God! I can breathe better now that fellow's gone. Ah, Master
Walter! there be two sorts of villains in the world: one with a broad,
bronzed face, a bold loud voice, a drinking look, and an unsheathed
dagger--and him men avoid and point at, and children cling to their
mother's skirts as he passes by:--the other is masked from top to
toe;--his step is slow, his voice harmonised, his eye vigilant, but
well-trained; he wears his dagger in his bosom, and crosses his hands
thereon as if in piety, but it is, in truth, that his hold may be firm
and his stab sure; yet the world know not that, and they trust him, and
he is singled out as a pattern-man for youth to follow; and so--but we
all play parts--all, all! And now for a stave of a song: Hurrah for the
free trade!--a shout for the brave Buccaneers!--a pottle of sack!--and
now, sir, I am myself again! The brimstone smell of that dark ruffian
nearly overpowered me!" So saying, he passed his hand frequently over
his brows, attempting at the same time to laugh away his visible
emotion.