“This reasoning seems conclusive with the uncle.  Do the suitors assent to its justice?”

The Patroon of Kinderhook had stood gazing, long and earnestly, at the countenance of the extraordinary being who asked this question.  A movement, which bespoke, equally, his conviction and his regret, escaped him, but he continued silent.  Not so Ludlow.  Of a more ardent temperament, though equally sensible of the temptation which had caused Alida to err, and as keenly alive to all the consequences to herself, as well as to others, there was something of professional rivalry, and of an official right to investigate, which still mingled with his feelings.  He had found time to examine more closely the articles that the cabin contained, and when their singular host put his question, he pointed, with an ironical but mournful smile, to a footstool richly wrought in flowers of tints and shades so just as to seem natural.

“This is no work of a sail-maker’s needle!” said the captain of the Coquette.  “Other beauties have been induced to pass an idle hour in your gay residence, hardy mariner; but, sooner or later, judgment will overtake the light-heeled craft.”

“On the wind, or off, she must some day lag, as we seamen have it!  Captain Ludlow, I excuse some harshness of construction, that your language might imply; for it becomes a commissioned servant of the crown, to use freedom with one who, like the lawless companion of the princely Hal, is but too apt to propose to ‘rob me the King’s Exchequer.’  But, Sir, this brigantine and her character are little known to you.  We have no need of truant damsels, to let us into the mystery of the sex’s taste; for a female spirit guides all our humors, and imparts something of her delicacy to all our acts, even though it be the fashion among burghers to call them lawless.  See,” throwing a curtain carelessly aside, and exhibiting, behind it, various articles of womanly employment, “here are the offspring of both pencil and needle.  The sorceress,” touching the image on his breast, “will not be entertained, without some deference to her sex.”

“This affair must be arranged, I see, by a compromise,” observed the Alderman.  “By your leave, gentlemen, I will make proposals in private to this bold trader, who perhaps will listen to the offers I have to propose.”

“Ah!  This savors more of the spirit of trade than of that of the sea-goddess I serve,” cried the other, causing his fingers to run lightly over the strings of the guitar.  “Compromise and offers are sounds that become a burgher’s lips.  My tricksy spirit, commit these gentlemen to the care of bold Thomas Tiller, while I confer with the merchant.  The character of Mr. Van Beverout, Captain Ludlow, will protect us both from the suspicion of any designs on the revenue!”

Laughing at his own allusion, the free-trader signed to the boy, who had appeared from behind a curtain, to show the disappointed suitors of la belle Barberie into another part of the vessel.