Chapter 7

"The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this."
_Apoth._ "My poverty, but not my will, consents."

_Romeo and Juliet._

The Rover arrested his step, as the other disappeared and stood for more
than a minute in an attitude of high and self-gratulating triumph. It was
quite apparent he was exulting in his success. But, though his intelligent
face betrayed the satisfaction of the inward man, it was illumined by no
expression of vulgar joy. It was the countenance of one who was suddenly
relieved from intense care, rather than that of a man who was greedy of
profiting by the services of others. Indeed, it would not have been
difficult, for a close and practised observer, to have detected a shade of
regret in the lightings of his seductive smile, or in the momentary
flashes of his changeful eye. The feeling, however, quickly passed away,
and his whole figure and countenance resumed the ordinary easy mien in
which he most indulged in his hours of retirement.

After allowing sufficient time for the boy to conduct Wilder to the
necessary cabin, and to put him in possession of the regulations for the
police of the ship, the Captain again touched the gong, and once more
summoned the former to his presence. The lad had however, to approach the
elbow of his master, and to speak thrice, before the other was conscious
that he had answered his call.

"Roderick," said the Rover, after a long pause, "are you there?"

"I am here," returned a low, and seemingly a mournful voice.

"Ah! you gave him the regulations?"

"I did."

"And he reads?"

"He reads."

"It is well. I would speak to the General. Roderick, you must have need of
rest; good night; let the General be summoned to a council, and--Good
night, Roderick."

The boy made an assenting reply; but, instead of springing, with his
former alacrity, to execute the order he lingered a moment nigh his
master's chair. Failing, however, in his wish to catch his eye, he slowly
and reluctantly descended the stairs which led into the lower cabins, and
was seen no more.

It is needless to describe the manner in which the General made his second
appearance. It differed in no particular from his former entrée, except
that, on this occasion, the whole of his person was developed. He appeared
a tall, upright form, that was far from being destitute of natural grace
and proportions, but which had been so exquisitely drilled into
simultaneous movement, that the several members had so far lost the power
of volition, as to render it impossible for one to stir, without producing