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Entered according to act of Congress,

in the year 1878, by BEAnLE Aim Anna, in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

 

 

E.,F,. Beadle.
William Adams.
Davnd Adams.

Vol. IX

}PUBLISHEBS.

NEW YORK, JUNE 1, 1878.

One copy. four in vnths. OLOC
Tunis iN AnvANcs One copy, one ym. . 3.00
Two copies, one you, . I.”

No 429

 

 

“ONLY WAIT !"

BY [Ami DYEB BBITTS.

 

 

When the spirit, worn and weary,
With its load of daily care,
Finds the pathway rough and dreary,
And the burden hard to bear,
Tired of hoping sick with fearing,
Longs to reach the “ golden gate,"
Then in accen .5 soft, yet cheering,
Patience whispers, “ Only Wait!”
For a brighter day is dawning—
Sunshine comes with dewy morning,
With the lovely dewy morning—only wait!

Oh, sad hearts, whose soundless sorrow
Dares not let a murmur fall,
Only wait, and trust the morrow—
God‘s great love is o’er us all.
Only wait, oh wounded spirit,
By the cross of life weighed down,
Thou shalt surely Heaven inherit!
Bear the cross, and win the crown.
Win and wear it at the dawning
0f the everlasting morning—
In the beauty of the morning—only wait!

Only wait! If life distress us,
Joys will be more sweet above,
When the light of Heaven shall bless us—
Love is Heaven—and Heaven is love.‘
Only wait! God’s hand will guide us
Safely to the “golden gate,"
And no ill can e‘er betide us,
Blest forever—only wait!
That bright day is swiftly dawning—
With the sunligiht bursts the morning!
Lovely light of eaven‘s morning—on y wait!

 

The Pirale Prince;

Pretty Nelly. the Queen of the Isle.

BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM,

AUTHOR or “ CAPTAIN or CAPTAINS," “THE RI-
VAL LIEUTENANTS," “ THE GIRL GUIDE,"
“THE BOY TERROR,” “THE SKELETON
CORSAIR,” “ THE BOY CHIEF,” “DIA-
HOND DIRK, ” “THE FLYING YAN-
imE,” “ WITHOUTA HEART,”

ETC., ETc., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
THE OATH.

Two men stood upon a lofty clifl.’ that over-
hun a sheltered cove indenting an island in the
Cari bean sea.

Before them, beyond the little harborage,
spread the blue waters for miles and miles, un-
broken by a single sail, and gilded by the rays
of the declinin sun.

At their feet ay the basin, a few square acres in
size and sheltered in the earthen arms of the
island in such a way as to fully protect it from
the storms without and afford a safe anchorage
for the several vessels that rode upon its waters
—one, a trimbuilt schooner, wit sails spread
and crew on board, as though anxious to fly to
sea

A sloop of twenty tons, two cat-rig sail-boats
and several skiifs made up the fleet in the bar-
bor upon which the eyes of the two men rested
when presented to the reader.

Behind them stretched away the land, rugged,
wild-looking, and everywhere surround by
the sea, that beat with ominous roar upon the
island coast which arose from its depths, as if to
check its wild career when lashed into fury by
the storms that swept over it.

From the position where the two men stood
their e es, when turned landward, could fall
upon a ovely vallev, nestling away behind the
rock barriers of the coast, and in which were
visib e a score or more of rude huts, built of
shi timbers—the wreck of ill-fated vessels that
harfbeen hurled upon that inhospitable shore—
inhospitable to all who did not know that with-
in the island was a safe anchorage, invisible
from the sea.

But the hamlet seemed deserted now, and the
inmates were assembled upon the white beach
of the basin, talkin earnestly to the half-dozen
occu ants of a sma cutter that seemed await-
ing t e coming of some one, and that some one
it was evident was one of the two men standing
upon the clifl, for toward those two were the
eyes of the crowd often turned.

But, unmindful of the impatient glances, the
two men stood in silence, their eyes ca y sur-
veying the scene of island crowd of rudely-
dressed seamen, harbor, with its several crafts,
and the rolling sea beyond.

That the two stood in the relationship of kin-
dred was evident, for they were strangely alike
in both face and form—though one was stem-
looking almost to savageness, and his face was
lvivfeather-boaten by long exposure to a seaman’s

 

e.

The elder, a man of fifty, perhaps, possessed a
bold, resolute face, marred b a look of evil that
rested upon it, yet which di not hide the intel-
lect that gleamed in the dark e es or that was
stamped on the massive forehea .

He was attired in white duck ants, top-boots
and a blue woolen shirt, the road collar of
which was turned down over a black silk scarf
and in his hand he held a slouch hat, encircled
by a gold cord, while around his waist was a
belt to which hung a short sword, and in which
were stuck two pistols of the pattern used half
a century ago.

His com anion was perhaps twenty-two years
of age, an though his face was bronzod by ex—
posure it was not rugged, and the complexion
would have made a woman envious.

His eyes were dark, restless and every fea—
ture perfect and beamng With intelligence,
while his mouth, though determined, was free
from the cruel look resting upon that of his com—
pamon.

His dress, though something like the elder
person’s, was of finer material; the boots were
of the best leather, and fitted him perfectly the
pants of white duck were spotless, and the blue
woolen shirt was worked on the sleeves, collar
and front with gold thread, while the necktie
was of white silk and tied in a sailor’s knot.

The hat of soft white felt, was encircled by
a old cord, and fastened up on the side with a
go d pin representing an anchor and cable.

' ' 0 his companion he too was armed, but
With Weapons .of a lighter ttern and finer
make, an a sash of gold bullion encircled his
waist, giving him altOgether the appearance of
a Jaunty, handsome young sailor.

 
 

 

As the sun crept nearer the horizon, the old
seamen broke the silence that for some time had
remained undisturbed, and his voice was deep,
with a tone almost threatening.

“ Now, Rafael you understand me. I hope!”

“ Yes, father, I understand that within a few
moments I must put to sea, and run my head
into the hangman s noose as a corsair,” return-
ed the young man, somewhat bitterly.

“ Boy, from your earliest years you have
been little better. Were you not brought up on
a pirate deck l”

‘ Alasl yes.”

“ Have you not followed me upon an enemy’s
deck time and time again, and been so fierce in
yogbattling that the men called you the devil’s
cu

“Meanng on for the devil, I suppose, fa-
ther? True, ly was all that; but then, when I
became t(‘aaitzghteen years of age, you sent me to
the Uni States to college, and I mingled with
men of honor; I found out how a pirate was de-
tested; I learned to feel that there was a nobler
life for me than sailing under the black flag. ”

“ It is the flag that has protected you, boy,
for ears.”

“ rue, because brave and strong arms up-
held it; nevertheless, the three years I have

among honorable men have proven to
{neghpt it is a flag accursed upon the sea and
an .

“I was a fool to send you awa from me, Ra-
fael; but I did it for {our , and with the
hope that my end mig t have been gained ere
your return, and that then we could live toge-

her in peace and contentment.

“You were a splendid sailor, though a boy in
years; none better ever stood on a eck; and I
wished you to see something of the world, and
receive an education; but you come back to me
with notions of honor that I admire at can-
not encourage, for our vow is unful led; you
remember that vow, do you not, Rafael!” '

“ Yes, I remember it, sir. ”

“You remember that you swore, with me,
to hunt the seas over and run to cover your
enemy and mine?”

“I remember.”

“ And would you break that vow!”

The youth remained silent an instant, and a
troubled look rested upon his face—seeing which
the other continued in an almost savage tone:

“ Would on break that vow now—after you
have come It to me, to your old comrades,
and your old vessel to remind on of it; after
I have brought you back an placed on in
command of the schooner, which I ri ed so
much to newly arm, and man with a crew of
seventy-five as brave men as ever stood on a
deck?

“Would you break your vow, Rafael, and
allow that man to escape our revenge?”

“ No, father, I will keep my oath, and I meant
not to break it‘ only it was hard, after livin
among men of onor, to become the leader 0
a band of buccaneers. It is hard, et I will
hunt our enemy u 11 every sea, an when we
are avenged, I wil then try and let the past
fade "in Oblivion, and live among honorable
men.

“You swear this again, Rafael!” and as the
old man asked the question a gleam of savage
delight flashed over his face.

“ swear it, father,” answered the youth,

1 .

“ Eynough; you are still my brave and noble
boy. Go n0w, for the sunset breeze is coming;
go, and hunt down that manl Ohl would that I
could accompany you, yet this cursed wound
keeps me from min ling in strife now,” and the
old man laced his hand upon his side, as
though su ering in.

A moment’s Sl ence followed, and then the
young man turned and (grasped the hand of his
com anion, while he sai sadly, yet firmly:

“ arewell, father! If no i l befall me I will
return in three months—perhaps sooner, and I
trust then the black flag will no longer shake
its sable folds in my face, haunting me with
specters that I would were forever buried. Fare-
well, sir.”

 

“I swear it, father,” answered Rafael

 

“ Take care of yourself, Rafael,” and the old
man waved his hand as the youth sped swiftly
down the steep hillside to the beach below,
where upon his arrival, he was greeted with a
cheer by the half-hundred men assembled there.

Raising his hat in return, he sprun into the
(waiting cutter, and his lips parted With the or-

er:

“ Give way, men!”

The six oars fell simultaneously into the wa-
ter, and the boat moved rapidly away toward
the waiting schooner.

“Up with that anchor, lads. Now, helms—
man, stand out to sea!” cried the young com-
mander, as he bowed in answer to the cheer
given him by his crew as he sprung on deck,
and two minutes after the graceful vessel was
dancing seaward over. the waters, stirred by
the evening breeze.

 

CHAPTER II.‘
THE BRIG AND THE BUCCANEER.
“ go you think there is no hope, Captain Rod-
ne

he questioner was a young and exquisitely
lovely girl of eighteen, who turned her large
and wistful eyes upon the one she addressed,
while her face alternately flushed and paled
with hope and dread.

The man she addressed was past the meridian
of life—a weather-beaten, honest old sailor, who
had in his forty years’ sea-service, risen from be-
fore the mast to the command of as pretty a
craft asfloated the waters—a trim—built, grace-
ful brig, that, under atremendous pressure of
canvas, was cutting through the rough waters
before a s nking breeze; while, doggi her
wake, and Just over a league hway, came a ge
schooner, whose low hull, rakin masts, and
armed deck, ave rise to the suspicion that her
deck was she owed by the flag of the buccaneer.

With the mornin sun the look-out at the
mast-head of the brig had discovered the
schooner two leagues away, and through the
whole day the rsistent pursuer had given
c , steadily t ough slowly, overhauling the
merchant craft, and causing uneasiness to all
who knew how desperate a thin it was to be
taken by one of those daring Skimmers of the
sea, whose deeds were known through every
land and over all waters.

“ Miss Markham, there is hope as long as there
is life, and we may elude yonder fellow when
night comes on—-and—”

‘And what, captain I” asked Mabel Markham,
as Captain Rodney paused.

“ And we may not, for the schooner steadil
comes nearer in spite of the brigl’s speed. I tell
you, Miss Markham, that craft as a light heel,
and runs like a Witch. I never saw a vessel
that could crowd the Sunbeam as he does," and
an anxious look crossed the old sailor‘s face.

“ Can you not resist him?”

“He has ten guns, and a crew of fully sixty
men; I have four howitzers, and not half his
number in crew; but he shall not take me with-
out a fight,” and Captain Rodney spoke with
firmness

“ And if he does capture the brig, captain!”
asked the young girl.

“ Then our voyage is ended,” bluntly replied
the seamen.

“ He assuredly would not kill us?”

“ Your life is safe, Miss Markham, and the
hope of a large ransom may cause the buccaneer
to carry you to your father; but, as for myself
and crew, if we do not fell upon our deck, why
we will doubtless have to we k the plank to our
death, be sent down in the brig, or set adrift in
an open boat to starve. or drown. Those pirates
are real devils, Miss Markham, and you see I
paint the thin in its strongest colors. ’

Mabel Mar m turned away, her face pale,
and her eyes dimmed with tears as she again
turned them upon the schooner, so swiftly com-
 on in pursuit.

ut the tears blurred her vision, and she
bowed her head upon the taffrail, and a shudder
passed through her form, for, from bright hope
at soon seeing her father, from whom she had

\\

, firmly.

 

 

been separated two years, she was cast down
almost with despair.

Her father was an officer of the navy of the
United States, and commanded a vessel then
cruisin in southern waters, and thither Mabel
was gomg to 'oin him after having finished her
education in ew York.

With no mother, and her father’s home in his
vessel, Mabel had nowhere else to go. and upon
receiving a letter from her father telling her
to come to him, she had taken pma e in the

brig, Sunbeam, bound from New Yor to Ha-
vana, at which latter rt the young girl ex-
pected to find Captain arkham s vessel.

A few days more and Mabel would have been
safely on board the cruiser commanded b her
father; but now upon the wake of the Sun
him a ruthless foe—the vessel of a buccaneer.

“ apt’in I think I knows yonder craft, al-
though he on’t show his colors yit,” said the
helmsman, addressing Captain ey.

“ Who is he Burdick?”

“It’s ther feller as has gotten hisself a bad
name, sir. Ef I hain’t mistaken, it are the
Curse 0’ ther Coast.”

“W'hatl” said Captain Rodne , in surprise,
and with a quick glance toward she].

“I hain’t sartin, capt’in, but I thinks it are
that devil. His name is Rafael, yer know, an’
he’s allus bent on mischief. Ef it’s him, then
our 'i ’s up.”

“ ere have you seen the schooner before,
Burdick?"

“I see’d him when I was a—cruisin’ in ther
United States cutter Swamp-fox. He thought
we was a merchant craft, and mm us aboard at
night; but when he diskivered his mistake, he
backed out as pretty as a coquette at a dance,
an’ we wasn’t able to catch him, although we
doubled him in men an’ guns. That was a year
a 0 last June. Ef he shows his colors, I could
3e 1(,i fur he carries a blood-red anchor in a black

e1 .

“Run up the French fla , Mr. Barker, and we
will see the banner he . ' under," cried Cap—
tain Rodney, as Burdick, the helmsman, de-
scribed the colors of the schooner known far
and wide as the Curse of the Coast.

The ensign of France was at once sent to the
mizzen peak b the first mate, and the breeze
caught its fol and spread them out; but no
answer came from the schooner, which was now
not a league away, and still gaining on the brig,
in spite of every stitch of canvas spread 11 on
the swift vessel that would draw a thimblefu of
wind.

“Give her the colors of Great Britain, Mr.
Barker,” said Captain Rodney and down came
the flag of the Frank to give place to that of the
Briton.

Still no answer came from the schooner, and
for the third time an ensign went to the brig’s
mizzen peak, and this time the Stars and Stripes
caught the breeze.

Instantly a cry arose from all, for a roll of dark
bunting was heisted on the schooner, and while
a huge black flag was shaken out, a puff of
white smoke burst from the sharp bows and a
solid shot came whizzing through the air.

“You are right, Burdick' there is the red
anchor on the black field. onder fellow is the
Curse of the Coast,”st Captain Rodney, gloom
spreadin over his dark face.

“The urse of the Coast, did you say, cap—
tain?"

“ Yes, Miss Markham.”

“ Oh! I have heard so many terrible stories of
that Vessel,” cried the maiden.

“ And doubtless all of them true, miss, for he
is said to be a very devil. He first cruised some
years ago in the Mediterranean, and showed
particular hatred toward American vessels of
war, and though not strong enough to fight
them, did them all the harm he could.

“ Then he came to the Gulf, and his depreda-
tions have been such as to gain him the name of
the Curse of the Coast,” said Captain Rodney,
and he added quickly-

“There comes another gun; I fear we are
doomed; but we will fight to the last. Mr.
Barker, beat to quarters, and I’ll put the brig

 

square before the wind, and perha s we can
hold our own until night. Miss Mar am, you
must go below.”
“No, captain, I will not hide while my de—
fenders are in danger; i will remain here,” said
the maiden, firmly.
The captain bestowed upon her a look of ad-
miration for her pluck and then turned away
to ut the brig before the wind.

or a few moments it was believed that the
brig was gaining on the schooner, and hope rose
big in every breast on board, for night was not
far away; but this hope soon died away, for,
though the pursuer’s bows were buried deep, he
came on at fearful speed, and gained as steadily
as he had before the course was changed.

And, worse still, every time the sharp bows of
the schooner rose on a wave there came a cloud
of smoke, a deep roar, and a shot was hurled
vicious] after the fiyin craft.

“ eaven! the fol ow sails like a witch!
Ha! t ere goes in mizzen-top,” cried Captain
Rodney, and at 's order half a dozen men
sprung to work to clear away the wreck, for
t e mizzen-topmast had been cut in two by a
solid shot.

As if improving with practice the buccaneer’s
shots came more frequently and with great pre-
cision, cutting away the foreto also and raking
the deck with fatal effect, for she] Markham
buried her face in her hands as she saw two

r seamen cut down a few feet from her.

“Miss Markham, please go below: this is no
place for on ” again said Captain Rodney.

Instant y e fair face was raised, and the
voice was firm as she replied:

“This is the place for me' I will remain on
deck!” and the roar of another shot drowned
further conversation, and a loud cry of agony
from a man’s lips, followed by a crash of tini-
Fog told that the aim of the buccaneer was still

a .

Darkness was yet half an hour away; the
schooner dgained rapidly, and hardly half a mile
now divi ed the two vessels. The case indeed
seemed desperate, and Captain Rodney deter-
mined to at once change his course, and in spite
of his small guns and few men to return the fire
of the pirate, hoping that some lucky shot of
his howitzers might disable his cruel foe, and
open an avenue 0 escape for the brig.

Instantl he gave the order to his crew to
stand reac y all, and the brig swept round, and
felt the wind upon her quarter, while the guns
were trained upon the schooner, and the com-
bat began.

The buccaneer also changed his course; his
huge sails were trimmed close, and from his
guns burst roar after roar, as if in fury at hav—
ing his foe turn upon him.

As calm as true courage could make her, and
with flashing eyes, though pallid face, Mabel
Markham stood on deck gazing upon the awful
scene, while at; her feet crouched a negress, her
maid, who, unable to get her mistress to come
into the cabin, had rushed upon deck to be by
her side, and with trembling form, and closed
eyes, awaited the end of the tragedy they all
were laying.

“ iss Markham, will you have a closer
view?” said Captain Rodney, and he handed his
sea-glass to the maiden, who said, with a faint
smile:

“The view is too close now for comfort, on.
tain: but I accept your kindness, for I won d
read the face of my captor.”

The old seamen smiled grimly in return, and
replied bravely:

“ Not yet is he victor, Miss Markham. There
stands the chief, on the quarter-deck, and he
has a cigar between his teeth.”

Mabel Markham leveled the glass, and the
words instantly broke from her lips:

“ Can that man be a pirate?”

“ One would think so, Miss Markham; he cer-
taini is not a saint.”

“ , he is very young, and—'—”

“ Aug very handsome, too, you were oing to
say. You are right; he is young an hand-
some but his heart is cruelly debased,” and Cup-
tain Rodney, now thoroug ly aroused to fight
unto the bitter end, again turned his attention
to his vessel and crew.

Again did Mabel Markham bend her gaze,
with the aid of the strong glass, upon the bucca-
neer chief, and saw that, as the captain had said,
he was coolly smoking a Cl er, and puffing forth
the white clouds in curls a ve his head, while
he paced to and fro with an easy grace and
nonchalant manner that betokened utter indif-
ference to danger.

 

CHAPTER III.
THE CURSE OF THE SEA.

As Mabel Markham continued to gaze upon
the approaching buccaneer, she saw that his
was a tall and elegant form, clad in a neglige
suit of blue woolen shirt, trimmed with gold
lace, white duck pants, and a slouch hat, looped
up in front in sue a way as to let the light fall
full upon his face.

It was a dark face, and Mabel could almost
see the eyes flash—a face stran ely handsome,
and yet stern and resolute, w ile the mouth
was hidden by a long, dark-brown mustache.

His hair, of the same hue as the mustache,was
waving, and worn long, for it fell upon his col—

face a look almost efi‘cminate; yet there was
somethin in the look of the white gauntlet-cov-
ered ham . raised to remove the cigar from his
lips, which indicated that the glove concealed
an iron power that would show no tremor in
the deadliest dan er.

Suddenl Mabe saw the chief pause, and raise
from the dyeck a glass which he turned u on the
brig, and gazed intently, as if unmiiidfu of the
roar of the guns from both vessels, and the
crashing of timbers, as the combatants neared
each other the merchantman standing on her
couise, and the corsair bearing rapidly down
upon her, and not three cable lengths away.

The start that the youn buccanecr gave as
his eyes fell u on her, abel saw distinctly,
and instinctive y she lowered the glass from her
eye, and her beautiful face was revealed.

A moment the buccaneer gazed u )on that face
and then down went his glass to t e deck, and
loud rung his voice, heard distinctly 0n the brig,
as he cried:

“ Cease firing!”

Instantly the ringing command was obeyed.
the roar of the schooner’s guns ceased. and the
smoke drifted away, leaving the graceful vessel
visible to every eye on board the brig.

“ He’s up to some game of devilment; be

 

 

 

 

 

 

lar, and this perhaps gave to his otherwise manly ,