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Chapter 19

 "She is won: we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;

They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
 
MARMION.
 
 
The liberated seamen once more pushed forward, no longer guided by Isabella, who had got as far as her knowledge of the place extended, and were again, in nautical language, "brought up all standing." A priest, returning from the death-bed of one of his flock, saw them gliding along silently and in "Indian file." His head being full of good wine, death, the devil, &c., and the place enjoying moreover the reputation of being haunted, his imagination magnified and multiplied the seven fugitives into a legion of devils, with horns, tails, and fiery breath complete. Under this impression he began to thunder forth a Latin form of exorcism: "In nomine sanctae Trinitatis et purissimae Virginis, exorcizo vos! Apage, Satana! Vade retro, diabole!" &c. &c. in such abominably bad Latin, that a devil or a ghost of the least classical taste would have incontinently fled to the Red Sea, without waiting to hear another syllable of the formula that sent him thither. The bawling of the priest awoke several of the neighbors, and sundry night-capped heads were protruded from the windows of the nearest houses; but the proprietors, catching a glimpse of the objects of the priest's alarm, and not caring to play bo-peep with the devil, closed and barred their casements, and betook them to their beads.
 
The party glided on in the same swift, silent pace; but the hindmost sailor, irritated by the continued vociferation of the priest, and stumbling at that moment over the carcase of a dog that had given up the ghost a few hours before, seized it by the hind leg, and flung it at the holy man with such true aim and force, as brought him to the ground. Luckily the monk swooned away with terror at this unexpected buffeting in the flesh from Satan, and his noise was consequently stopped. The next moment the party plunged into the bushy path, and were instantly lost to the view of the inhabitants, if indeed any were looking after them.
 
Advancing swiftly along the rough path, and losing their way two or three times, they at length heard the light dash of the surf upon the sand-beach; but, to their no small alarm, they also plainly heard, from time to time, the low hum of voices, though their language was not distinguishable. Fearing the worst, Morton advanced alone to reconnoitre, notwithstanding Isabella's earnest entreaties not to be left alone. Moving slowly and cautiously towards the point whence proceeded the voices, the soft sand rendering his footsteps inaudible, he approached as near as he durst, and listened for some minutes with the most fixed attention, to catch a word that would indicate the character and nation of the speakers, but in vain; and he was on the point of returning to his friends in despair, when he plainly distinguished the exclamation, "d----n my eyes," uttered by some one at no great distance from where he stood. No Sontag or Malibran ever warbled a note that contained a hundredth part of the sweetness and music that was comprised in that simple and unsophisticated ejaculation; it decided in an instant, and beyond all possibility of doubt, who and what was the speaker. His joy was inconceivable, and he could scarce refrain from giving vent to it in a loud shout. Returning immediately, he communicated the joyful intelligence to his friends; and the whole party, with light hearts and rapid steps, advanced towards the beach. Just as they stepped from the shade and covert of the bushes, a pistol, the bright barrel of which glittered in the star-light, was presented to Morton's breast; and the holder thereof, in a grum voice, commanded him to "stand!"
 
"Heave to, and let's overhaul your papers," continued the speaker, who was immediately recognized, by the voice, as Jones, the boatswain of the Albatross.
 
"Hush, hush, don't speak so loud; 'tis I, 'tis Morton--Jones, is that you, my old boy?"
 
"God bless you, Mr. Morton, it is you indeed--I thought 'twas a raft of them thundering sojers bearing down upon us. I've been lying to, under the lee of this 'ere bush, for this two hours or more, waiting for you."
 
The parleying between their "look-out ship," as they called Jones, and the strangers, attracted the whole party of the Albatross to the spot; and Morton, to his surprise, found himself and his companions surrounded by at least thirty well-armed men. His friend Walker, the second mate of the ship, advanced, and testifying the sincerest affection, welcomed him once more to liberty and the company of his shipmates. Kind greetings and hearty welcomes were given by the seamen, in their blunt, straight-forward way, and not a few jokes were passed upon the four liberated tars by their light-hearted messmates.
 
"I say, Tom Wentworth, how much grub did the Don Degos allow you? a rat a-piece, or the hind leg of a jackass among the four of you?"
 
"Ay," said another, "and Sundays they had a jackass's head stewed in a lantern, and stuffed with sogers' coats."
 
"Yes," said a third, "and green-hide soup three times a week."
 
"Seasoned with brick-dust and pig-weeds," said a fourth, "by way of red pepper and cabbages."
 
"Well, never mind what they've had," said old Tom Jones, interposing, "one thing's sartain, they ha'n't had any steam, ............
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