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The matter being thus promptly settled, Master Hugh
Tyringham, from the mere force of habit, consulted
his better half on the subject, who, being a sensible
woman, and an excellent wife, withal, very judiciously
answered, “you know best, my dear,” and proceeded
quietly in a succession of painful endeavors to thread
her needle. She was, indeed, a pattern of a woman,
and merited a more particular introduction to the
reader than we have yet given. This must be our
apology for having said so little of her in the progress
of our tale. Any good-for-nothing woman may be
made to figure in romance: but it is no easy task to
make anything of a discreet, plain, good-tempered
dame, whose virtues are so nicely balanced and harmoniously
blended that there is nothing monstrous or
disproportioned to excite wonder, admiration or disgust.
Hence, without doubt, it so often happens that writers
of fiction are obliged to resort for their heroine to
some strange, fantastic, incomprehensible being, as it
were “half horse, half alligator, and a little of the
snapping trutle,” whose high attainments, sublime

[figure description] Page 229.[end figure description]

genius and trancendental transcendentalism, serve no
other purpose than to destroy her own happiness and
that of all within the sphere of her influence. The
gentle and judicious reader will pardon this, and all
other digressions, most especially when we assure him
that these seeming excrescences contain the very
cream of our work. Having been forced, by the taste
of the venerable public, to glean in the weather-beaten
path of fiction, we have sought to mingle with it as
much concealed morality as the spirit of the age will
bear.

The old Cavalier possessed many good qualities,
though, like big John Bull, he sometimes had a disagreeable
way of showing them. But it is not intended
to hold him up as a model for husbands, for he was
sometimes a little testy, and occasionally somewhat
unreasonable. He neither liked his wife to agree with
him without some little discussion, nor to oppose him
without in the end coming round to his opinion. Tacit
acquiescence was as disagreeable to him as obstinate
resistance; and being on this particular occasion a
little dubious as to the wisdom of his course, he wished
to bolster himself up with the opinion of his wife. If
the affair turned out badly, he might then throw all
the responsibility upon her shoulders. When, therefore,
she quietly answered, “you know best, my dear,”
he felt somewhat nettled at her passive obedience.

“'Slife, Mistress Tyringham,” said he, “I asked
your advice, not your acquiescence. I am pretty well
satisfied that I know best, yet, as two heads are better

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than one—you know the old proverb—I should like
to know what you think of this journey of Langley,
eh?”

“Why, my dear, as I said before, I think you know
or ought to know best, and—bless me! if I haven't
been stitching this petticoat wrong side outwards.”

“The devil take all stitching, patching and hemming.
What has that to do with the matter? I want
your opinion, madam.”

“Well, my dear, I agree with you perfectly.”

“Zounds! I tell you I don't wish you to agree with
me perfectly.”

“Well, then, my dear—”

“Don't dear me, if you please. You are never so
affectionate as when doing all you can to provoke
me.”

“Well, then, my—hem! I differ with you entirely,”
said she, laughing at the same time so exuberantly
that she missed threading her needle three several
times.

“Mistress Tyringham,” roared the Cavalier, “I
don't wish to say anything disagreeable or disrespectful,
but, by the Lord Harry, you are a great fool!”

“Ah! my—Mr. Tyringham, you should not say
that, at least in my presence. I may not be as wise
as you, but it is quite impossible for one to have lived
with you so long and be a fool. But, now, I recollect,
Gregory has brought home one of the finest wild turkeys
I ever saw, and I want your opinion about
cooking it.”

[figure description] Page 231.[end figure description]

Hereupon the worthy gentleman rubbed his hands
with great glee, and the conference was ended in the
pantry.

It may be taken for granted that Langley Tyringham
lost no time in making his arrangements for a
voyage to New England in search of a wife. On inquiry,
he learned that our old acquaintance, Captain
Skeering, having established a regular trade between
the two colonies, was now in port and on the eve of
sailing. Accordingly, being liberally supplied with the
one thing needful by his father, and letters of introduction
to the Governor, as well as other gentlemen of
Massachusetts Bay, he took an affectionate leave of
his parents, not forgetting Gregory Moth; embarked
with Captain Skeering, and cleared the capes with a
prosperous breeze.

The first and second day, Langley, being the only
passenger, had the vessel to himself, but on the morning
of the third, one of the sailors informed the captain
that a “tarnation droll cretur” had just crept out
of the forecastle, though nobody knew how he came
there. The captain went forward, followed by Langley,
to investigate this strange interloper, who at the
first blush demonstrated himself to be a lost sheep from
the flock of gentlemen. His garments had evidently
once been rich and fashionable, but were now in the
last stage of dissolution and decay, and he bore about
him all the insignia of poverty, except humility; for
he encountered the unwelcome looks of all around,
with a hardy, insolent indifference. Though his face

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was marred and blotched by intemperance, and his
tattered garments smeared with dirt, still there was
about him some of those evidences of better days, that
often survive the lowest stages of degradation, and distinguish
the fallen angel from the mere animal man.
Captain Skeering was one who took everything coolly;
he never got outwardly angry, and his self-possession
was proof against a hurricane. He civilly inquired of
the mysterious stranger, how he got on board, whence
he came, and what his object in coming.

“I hid myself in a locker,” replied he, “I came
from the capital, and my object was to escape the
constable.”

“You don't say so,” replied the captain, in his simple
way. “What had you to do with a constable?”

“Why, I had the misfortune to run in debt to my
landlord, who was so unreasonable to expect payment
from a man without the means.”

“Then you have no money, I guess,” said the captain.

“Not a groat.”

“And how do you expect to pay your passage,
friend.”

“I don't expect to pay it, friend.”

“The deuce you don't. But maybe I do, though.”

“Look you, captain,” said the gentleman vagabond,
“I carry in my veins the blood of kings, and number
among my ancestors, princes, dukes and earls by
dozens.”

[figure description] Page 233.[end figure description]

“Pooh,” said the captain, “What's the use of being
high born, if a man has no money?”

“Use?” said the other, “very great use, sir. One
of the greatest advantages of high birth is, that it
makes merit entirely unnecessary. But listen—I have
been a courtier, a soldier, a gambler, a highwayman,
a bully, a cheat and a dupe. I have lived by my wits—
but there are two things I never descended to—I
never worked or begged—I was above that. I was
once within one degree of the top; I am now at the
bottom; and though I lack courage to drown myself,
I shouldn't much mind being drowned by another.
Here I am without a shilling. If you don't choose to
take me where you are going, fill my pockets with
lead and throw me overboard, that I may give the lie
to my good friends at home, who long since predicted
I was born to be hanged.”

“But how came you to be in this miserable condition,
if you have such great friends?” asked the captain.

“I was a younger brother,” answered the other,
fiercely—“I was disinherited at my birth. Another
came before me and reaped the harvest. Don't you
know, sir, that to be second best among us is to be
nothing. My elder brother started first in the race,
took the purse, and left me the lining. He played the
tyrant and I whipped him. They sent me to college,
and I was expelled. They purchased me a commission
in a regiment disbanded at the conclusion of
peace. I sent to beg forgiveness of my father, but he
said I had disgraced him. I joined a party who

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amused themselves occasionally on the king's highway,
made a great prize at the expense of the life of the
owner; was tried and condemned to the gallows. My
father, fearing I should further disgrace him by being
hanged, sent an agent to say he would procure my
pardon if I would take an oath to change my name,
leave England, and never return. I had a great mind
to be hanged on purpose to spite my family, and leave
behind me a famous dying speech and confession;
but, on the whole, concluded to accept the terms offered,
especially as they included a purse of money. Finally,
I sailed on the Virginia voyage, arrived safe, spent my
money, ran in debt, ran away, and here am I at your
service.”

In the course of this brief, yet comprehensive detail,
the gentleman vagabond, as we shall dub him, he
having positively refused to disclose his name, seemed
not the least affected by the recollections of the past
or the prospects of the future; and it was evident that
he had not only outlived the feeling of compunction,
but the sense of shame. An outcast of Providence, he
had neither the capacity or inclination to reform; and
it seemed as if he was permitted to cumber the earth
for the purpose of exhibiting an example proving the
futility of high birth or noble blood in sustaining the
dignity of man, without the aid of integrity and
virtue.

There was no help for it, however. The captain
shrugged his shoulders and declined throwing him
overboard; and he was suffered to remain until an

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opportunity offered of putting him on shore. It was
curious to see how this miserable outcast carried his
head above the common sailor, and with what silent
contempt he declined answering any of their questions.
He assumed an air of superiority over the captain,
and if at any time he addressed Langley Tyringham,
it was with an air of courtly condescension that would
have been rather provoking in any one but such a ragamuffin.
If asked to assist in any emergency, he
turned up his nose in scorn, and swore that rather
than debase himself by working, he would die in a
hospital or swing on a gallows. The sailors dubbed
him “the gentleman vagabond;” the captain prohibited
his entering the cabin; and Langley contemplated
him with a mixture of contempt and horror.

Meanwhile, the good vessel sailed steadily onwards
with a genial southerly breeze, and the worthy captain,
having no special business at any intervening port,
made no stop by the way. They had reached the
easternmost extremity of Long Island, and the captain,
having consigned the care of the schooner to his trusty
mate, had retired to his cabin, when, in an instant, and
without the least preparatory warning, a squall struck
her while lying almost becalmed, and before she could
recover way, threw her on her beam ends. The vessel
did not fill immediately; but such was the confusion
created by this accident, that no one thought of saving
anything, ere it was too late. It was supposed at first
that the gentleman vagabond had been washed overboard,
until he was seen creeping out of the cabin,

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like a drowned rat. All were too much occupied to
take any note of this circumstance, and none remembered
it afterwards

The squall was succeeded by a fierce gale, which
continued nearly four and twenty hours, during which
the vessel floated at random, until at length she was
cast ashore on a small island, inhabited by Indians,
and soon went to pieces. It is believed that this was
what is now called Block Island, but as it is not
material, we shall not insist upon it. The situation
of the island and the sterility of the soil having hitherto
protected it from the inroads of the whites, the savages
had no injuries to revenge, and contented themselves
with stripping their involuntary victims of their outward
garments and setting them to work in various
ways. Langley, being better dressed than the rest,
his clothes were claimed by the principal chief, who
reserved them for extraordinary occasions, and deposited
them among the treasures of his wigwam. The
gentleman vagabond also fell to the lot of the same
high dignitary, who, after examining his costume with
great contempt, suffered him to retain his ragged remnants
as unworthy of his adoption.

Here they remained in melancholy exile, the bondmen
of barbarians, performing the work of slaves
without the rewards of slavery, and without the hope
of relief. Captain Skeering, who had once before been
in a similar situation, set himself to making the best
of a bad bargain. He labored as if for his own benefit,
and preserved a perfect equanimity of temper on all

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occasions, only that he obstinately refused to work on
Sundays. This, at first, brought him into difficulty,
until he compounded matters by doing double duty on
Saturdays. But of all persons in the world, your
gentleman is in the most doleful predicament when
obliged to resort to his physical energies in any useful
employment; and Langley greatly excited the contempt
of the squaws by his total ignorance of the art
of raising squashes. He knew something of fishing
and shooting, but the Indians would not trust him
with weapons, or permit his going out in a canoe. He
suffered many hardships and privations, which, however,
had this advantage, that their close pressure often
drew him from the most painful of all his contemplations,
that of being probably forever divorced from
Miriam and his home. As for the gentleman vagabond,
the savages could make nothing of him. He
swore he would not degrade himself and his ancestors
by raising pumpkins and squashes; resisted all attempts
at coercion, and finally entered into a treaty,
by virtue of which he maintained his dignity on condition
of furnishing the little papooses with plenty of
whistles.

Thus passed the time in hopeless captivity, until the
Indians engaged in a great hunting expedition, in conjunction
with a friendly tribe on the opposite shore of
Long Island. As is usual on such occasions, all the
men except the aged and decrepid, went forth, carrying
with them their canoes, with the exception of a single
one, reserved in case it became necessary to

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communicate with the hunting party. The prisoners were
left behind, the distance of the island from all other
points of land precluding their escape by swimming,
and the single boat—a bark canoe—not affording them
the means of conveyance. The next morning, but
one, after the departure of the savages, not only the
gentleman vagabond was missing, but likewise the
canoe, as well as the garments of Langley Tyringham,
that had been allotted to the great chief of the little
island. In their place was found the dead body of an
aged Indian, who had been left in charge of the royal
wigwam, and who had evidently died by violence.

It has been previously stated that this fellow, who
had reached the last stage of human depravity, was
observed emerging from the cabin of the schooner as
she lay on her beam ends, immediately after being
struck by the squall. In the confusion that followed,
he had taken the opportunity to rifle Langley's trunk,
in which the key had been carelessly left, of a wellfilled
purse, and a pocket-book containing his letters of
introduction, together with the formal consent of the
old Cavalier to his marriage with Miriam Habingdon.
These he concealed among his rags, and had been
enabled to retain in consequence of his dress being as
before stated, so filthy and worthless as not to excite
the cupidity of the savages. Having noticed the position
of the only canoe left behind by the hunting
party, he conceived the design of using it to effect his
escape from the island, and reaching the opposite
shore of the continent, where he imagined he should

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find the abodes of civilized men, and might avail himself
of the money and papers he had purloined. As
exclusively appertaining to the principal chief, he
lodged in his wigwam with his aged father, a decrepid
Indian warrior; and accordingly in the middle of the
night when the old man was fast asleep, he took the
opportunity to despatch him with a stone hatchet he
had found in the wigwam. This done, he leisurely
threw off his rags, and dressed himself in the hat and
clothes that formerly belonged to Langley Tyringham;
after which he made all speed to the canoe, which he
launched from the beach, and jumping in, paddled off as
fast as possible. The wind blowing off the island, the
waters were quite smooth, and he proceeded toward the
mainland without danger or difficulty, until he got
out of the shelter of the island, and came within the
influence of the waves of the Atlantic, when his situation
became very precarious. Having little experience
in the management of boats of any kind, he was
tossed about at random; became bewildered and frightened,
and finally, long before reaching the mainland,
his canoe filled, capsized, and he was drowned. The
finding his body and hat; the inference drawn from the
letters, partially preserved in the leather pocket-book, and
the attendant circumstances, are already known to the
reader. The body had remained too long in the water
to be recognized or described, and in due time the
parents of Langley Tyringham received information
that clothed them in sorrow and mourning.

p316-469

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