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COPYRIGHTED IN I373, BY EEADLE 8< ADAMS.

Published Every cBeadZe & fldams, (Publishers, m Cantu Copy.
Two Weeks, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y. APRXL 9, 1879. ‘2.50 a. Year.

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THE RED RAJ AH

CHAPTER I.

THE  EATERS.

 

THE hot sun shone out in the midst of a cloudless sky.
The rocks glowed and scorched in the fierce heat, as they
cropped up here and there from the white sand on the
beach.

The sea outside was as smooth as a mirror. Only the
over-restless, heaving, “ground swell ” passed silently and
mysteriously along‘ at intervals, and dashed into glittering
foam on the sunken coral reef that encircled the island.

The sharks stole silently about just outside the breakers.
You could see the sharp back fins darting to and fro among
some floating fragments.

Seeing the tranquil appearance of everything around that
lovely island, you would never have thought of storm and
tempest. And yet, only the day before, a frightful typhoon

. had swept over it with devouring rage. Those fragments

only yesterday were part and parcel of a noble frigate. She
was dashed to atoms upon the hidden edge of that terrible
reef, only marked, now by that white ripple.

But where are her crew?

Ask those ghastly monsters, skimming silently to and fro,
cutting the golden sunshine as it kisses the water.

But, surely, some escaped out of four hundred brave
sailors, instinct with life and strength?

If so, they left the shore, and we must follow them.

The mainland, away from the white beach, was a perfect

wilderness of beauty. Feathery cocoa-palms waved their‘

plumed heads in the gentle breeze, that now and then stirred
for an instant. Clumps of luxuriant bananas displayed their
dark leaves all around, loaded with yellow pods. The bread

fruit stood in little roves. Prickly beds of pineapples cov~
ered the glades. orgeous birds of paradise liit'ed from

branch to branch, with parrots all flaming with green and
scarlet, and blue and gold macaws.

The murmur of a little stream, tinkling over the pebbles,
told of fresh water, all that was needed to complete the
paradise. I '

There, in the midst of a grassy glade, Spangled with bright
flowers, was gathered-a group of white people. ‘

It was the little remnant of the crew of the ill-fated

‘ frigate, only five in number, all told. They were seated on

the ground, in earnest. conversation, consulting on means of
escape from the island, and never dreaming of the presence
of their treacherous foes?

There were three men in the party. The gold-laced cap
of that bronzed, middle-aged man, of powerful frame, an-
nounced him as one of the oflicers of the vessel. But his
attire consisted Only of the shirt and trowsers in which he
had swum to the shore, and the rest of the party were simi-
larly destitute.

A venerable old man with white hair sat next to him.
Half clad, and wretched as was his condition, there was a
certain air about him that spoke of high life.

Next to him was a young man of near thirty, handsome
and wall-built, who might have been anything. from an artist
to a sailor. Frank and open in face, with a brow of uncom-
mon breadth and' hight, his clear hazel eyes, and brown hair
and beard, made his a pleasant face to look at.

Claude Peyton, the young Virginian, was an amateur
artist, musician and poet; a yachtsman of that daring kind
which America alone produces; who had traveled all over
the world for fun, android his little Baltimore-built schooner

‘ at Melbourne for twice what she cost him. How he had

drifted to the Marquesas Islands, and how he came to be
aboard the frigate Philomele (carrying out a new Governor
to the French colony of Pondicherry in India), time will show.

He was in a hard case now, at all events. Cast ashore by
a tremendous wave the night before, he had been dashed
against a rock, with so much force as to break two ribs, and
render him incapable of walking on his bruised limbs with-

out he] .
' But his eye was as bright and cheerful, his laugh as gay

as ever, although he had to lie on his back on the grass; and

'Peyton was the soul of the little party still.
' " ’The other two members of the group were women. One

was an old French negress, the nurse and 'protectress of that

r young gill-1,3,0! slender, delicate frame, Whose long black hair
” neon-woman was carefully. plaiting.

x

 

The girl was quite a child, not more than fourteen at the
utmost. Her face was very pale, the features small, and
delicate in outline, and lighted up by the most magnificent
eyes ever seen. They were like two dark lakes at midnight,
in.whose clear depths the stars lie sleeping.

The old gentleman was the Marquis de Favanncs, late
Governor of the Marquesas group, under French rule, who
had been promoted to the Governorship of Pondicherry.
On his passage thither he had been wrecked, as we see.
The child was his only daughter, Marguerite, who went with’
him under old Marie’s guardianship.

“ Ah! captain!" the old marquis was saying, “if it were
only the question of living here, we need have no fear.
There are flsh, flcSh and fowl enough for the catching. But
how shall we get away?”

Captain Bonhonnue shook his head, gloomily.

“ God knows,” he said. “ If we get a chance—"

He had no time to utter more.

An awful cry, a yell, as if hell were let loose, suddenly
broke from the thickets all round them. Captain Bonhon-
nue leaped to his feet, with a shout of terror, catching up a
musket that lay beside him.

Alas! the weapon was empty.

A throng of bronzed figures, brandishing spears and clubs,

came leaping on the glade from every side; their white pointed
teeth glistening from their dark faces, and uttering appalling
yells. »
The women shrunk and cowered down into the earth be-
fore the terrible onslaught, but the old marquis sprung up,
as active as a boy, and flashed out a ship’s cutlass that lay
beside him.

That and the empty musket were .he only weapons saved

from the wreck.
“Drop your arms! Don‘t resist!" cried poor Claude Pey-

ton, as he lay on the grass, unable to move.

But the caution came too late.

A hundred ferocious savages attacked the two Frenchmen,
as they rose to defend themselves. The burly captain, a
man framed like a Hercules, kept them at bay for some
minutes, fighting like a tiger against overwhelming odds.
The heavy musket-butt swept the air in circles all round, and
dashed man after man to the ground. But, while the cap-
tain was engaged in front, a tall savage ran at him from be-
hind, with a lance of ironwood, whose long, sharp blade was
notched and barbed with sharks' teeth. ‘

Pierced through and through, the unhappy sailor fell
writhing to the earth, and a dozen clubs descended on his
head where he lay, smashing it out of all semblance of hu-
manity.

The poor old marquis, fighting gallantly, was beaten
down, dead, at the very beginning of the aflray; and a yell
of triumph proclaimed the victory of the savages.

Claude Peyton lay still on the grass by the females. He
expected every minute to be murdered. But the savages ap-
peared to be satisfied with slaughter for the present. A ring
was formed around the dead bodies and the living pris-
oners.

Claude half raised himself on his elbow, and watched,
with bewildered curiosity, the motions of the naked demons.
They commenced a sort of slow dance at once, moving in
time with measured steps. Their fierce eyes were bent, with
a wolfish glare, on the dead bodies.

Peyton looked round for little Marguerite. He saw with
thankfulness that the poor child had fainted. She was
spared, for the present, the horrible sight that met his own
view and that of old Marie.

The poor old woman, palsied with terror, crouched 'over
the form of the prostrate child, gazing stonily on the hideous
orgies going on around them.

Now the chant changed its character. It became faster

- and wilder. A single savage, evidently a chief, moved out

from the circle, and commenced a song of vituperation,

apostrophizing the dead bodies. He seemed to be reproach-
ing them for their realstance, and heaping contempt on

them. .

At last, after a long harangue, he uttered a sudden yell,
at which signal all present united in a chorus of bowls, and
the circle broke up.

At the sound of that yell, the child, just waking up, Ye-
lapsed into insensibility. The old nurse cowered down over
her charge, and Claude shuddered.

In a moment more the savages pounced down upon the
survivors of the little group, and forced them to their feet.

Claude was dragged to a palm-tree, bythe edge of the

 

 

‘ rocious avidity.

 

.5»
,.

 

The Red Rajah. 3

 

 

glade, and secured to it in a twinkling, with hark ropes.
The old woman and the girl were bound hand and foot, and
thrown down close to him.

Four villainous-looking fellows were left to guard them,
and the rest of the savages dispersed. The dead bodies of
the two white men, and three savages slain by the captain,
lay in the middle of the little glade, by the banks of the
brook.

“What are they going to do ?” thought Claude, as he stood
fastened to the tree.

He had not long to wait before he understood.

The whole band soon came trooping back, each man with
alarge fagot of dry sticks, which they cast on the ground in
a. heap.

Then the horrible truth burst on him in a flash.

The savages were cannibals!

There was no mistaking their intentions. In a very few
minutes a large fire was crackling and blazing in the middle
of the glade. The hoarse, bellowing sounds of conch shells,
blown by numbers of people in the vicinity, announced the
approach of more savages to join the feast. Soon they came
in, from all quarters, men, women and little, toddling chil-
dren, all dancing, and yelling, and clapping their hands for
glee.

Just as neatly as professed butchers, the cannibals pro-
ceeded to cut up the bodies, not only of the white men, but
also of their own slain comrades. The whole crowd hung
around the fires, increasing every moment. It became evi-
dent that there would not be enough to satisfy them all.

Like hungry wolves, they seized the pieces of flesh, singed
them hastily in the flames, and tore them to pieces with fe-
Inside of twenty minutes not a vestige re-
mained of the bodies, and still the demoniac wretches ap-
peared to be unsatisfied.

A sickening sensation of loathing and repugnance ever-
came poor Peyton, as he looked on, and felt that his turn
would come the next.

The man-eaters began to cast glances toward him and his
companions, and then, for the first time, the young man no-
ticed that little Marguerite had regained her consciousness.

The poor child lay there, the cruel bonds cutting into her
delicate flesh, her great eyes dilated with mute terror, and
fixed upon the grim forms, dancing with devilish glee.

“Oh! my God!" groaned poor Claude, utterly overcome,

“must that pure, delicate little being suffer such a horrid ‘

fate?”

The girl heard his ejaculation, and understood it, though
he spoke English. Marguerite de Favannes was a great ad-
mirer of the handsome young stranger, who was so kind to
her all the voyage. Child-like, she thought he could do
anything.

“ 0h! Monsieur Claude,” she murmured, “where are we?
Where is papa? What are those fearful men doing? Don’t
let them hurt Marguerite."

Claude broke down with a great sob.

“ God help us all I” he said. “I am as helpless as you,
little one. I fear we are doomed.”

Even as he spoke, a great clamor arose among the savages,
who seemed to be disputing some point with much anger.
From the frequent pointing toward the prisoners, Peyton
concluded that they were agitating the question of their
death. He did not dare to tell Marguerite. The poor child
was blessed in her unconsciousness.

There is something so repulsive to the nature of man in
the idea of cannibalism, that the poor fellow's soul seemed
to sink within him, when, at last, a deputation of hideous,
tattooed demons approached, and began to examine the pris-
oners, as if to select the fattest.

They passed contemptuoust Over the old negress. One
of them uttered some jest, about her leanness and toughness,
probably, for the rest laughed boisterously.

They did not seem to pay much attention to the child, ei-
ther, and Peyton felt relieved about her immediate fate. But
they stopped opposite to himself, and examined him with
great apparent satisfaction.

The head chief felt his arms and ribs, and nodded sp~
provingly, while he expatiated on his good condition.

His cronies assented gladly, and the chief cut the prisoner’s
bonds and signed to him to step out. Alone, badly injured,
and totally defenseless, Peyton had no choice but to obey.
He hobbled forward, with difficulty, and the chief laid his
hand on his arm, and signed to him to strip off his shirt.

The young man hesitated. He felt that he was to be
slaughtered, and yet he hardly liked to assist his butchers.

 

The chief stamped his foot angrily, and signed to him to
pull it off. Peyton stood mute and still.

Muttering some furious words, the savage laid his strong
right hand on the other’s collar and tore the shirt open with
a single wrench. As he did so, and the white bust of the
young man became exposed to view, the chief suddenly
started back, with a loud exclamation of wonder, at some-
thing which he saw. He fixed his eyes on the broad breast
of the prisoner, and, calling to the rest, pointed out to them
a strange figure traced thereon, in blue lines.

Peyton stared stupidly at the savages. He could not
comprehend what was the matter. What was his surprise,
when the chief prostrated himself at his feet, and the whole
assembly of savages followed the example! ,

A moment before they would have devoured him as their
prey. Now they were worshiping him as a godl

And what had caused this sudden change?

An idle device, tattooed by a schoolboy brother, more than
twenty years before, by the banks of the rushing Rappahan-
neck. A rude sketch of a palm-tree, with a snake coiled
around it, tail in mouth. The ancient emblems of life and
eternity they were. How well Claude remembered that day,
when his wild brother Clarence, full of some book of Egyp-
tian mysteries he had been reading, would hear of nothing
but tattooing the strange device on his breast. Poor Clar
cncel Wild and willful ever—was he yet alive? He had
not seen that brother for twenty long years now, when he
left home in anger.

And now, Clarence’s queer freak was the means of saving
his brother‘s life. This device seemed to have touched some
mysterious cord ln the breasts of the islanders.

He heard them discussing the matter in their strange Poly-
nesian, language, of which the only word he understood was
the phrase frequently repented of “ Taboo—taboo."

He knew that that meant “sacred,” and comprehended
that something had made him so in their eyes.

The chief called out to some one in the rear," and a little,
dark-skinned girl came forward with a long mantle of tappa,
or native Polynesian cloth, which she offered to the astounded
Peyton in lieu of his torn garments.

Observing that the young man could not walk from pain,
the stalwart Polynesian knelt down at his feet, and made
signs that he should ride upon his shoulders.

But Claude, overwhelmed with sudden honors as he was,
had not forgotten his friends. He was resolved to save the
orphaned child from the horrible fate that awaited her, if the
thing was possible. He hobbled forward to her side, and
stretched out his hands over her, crying, as he did so: '

“ Taboo—taboo. "

He had heard that a thing might be tabooed so.

But an universal cry of dissent showed him on how slen-
der a thread his own safety still hung.

The savages refused to taboo the girl.

What was to be done? He could not leave the little one
to be devoured. While he hesitated, the stalwart islands:
made signs to him again to mount on his shoulders. The
faces of the crowd around again grew dark and menacing.
Claude took his resolution.

He took the child, and lifted her in his arms, hugging her
close to him, so that his body sheltered her from them all.

“Kill us both, then,” he said, doggedly, in English, as if
they could understand him; “ one taboo, taboo both."

Something in his attitude and defiant look seemed to make
them hesitate. i‘ .

It was only for a moment. however. The next. strong
hands tire the shrieking child from his grasp. He won
lifted by main force on the shoulders of the huge savage,
who ran 01! with him as if he were a child.

He saw the little girl dragged into the center of the glide,
and the uplifted clubs ready to take her life; and then oc-
curred an interruption so sudden and unexpected that he
hardly believed his eyes. .

A line of men, all glittering in gold and scarlet, came
leaping and bounding through the trees, with a shrill yell,
driving the naked savages before them like sheep.

The gleaming of steel weapons, and the cracking of fire'
arms, told that the new-comers were of a different race from:
the dark Polynesians. '

The latter did not seem even to think of resistance, for
they dropped spears and clubs, left their helpless female

prisoner behind, still unharmed, and fled into the interior 0:

the island, bearing with them only the tabooed white man,
to whose possession they appeared to attach a mysterious
importance. 5

 

 

4 The Red Raj ah.

CHAPTER II.
THE man RAJAH.

er'rnn MARGUEKITE was hardly conscious of what was
passing around her, so terror-stricken was she. She saw,
one moment. hideous naked forms, tattooed with blue marks,
with diabolical faces, surrounding her with uplifted clubs.
The next moment she was left alone. The savages were run-
ning like frightened deer. Then there came a rush of more
men round her; and the poor child fell on her knees, imagin-
ing that they would kill her. She closed her eyes, expecting
every moment to feel the blow. But none came.

She opened them to gaze timidly around, and they met
those of a very tall and singularly handsome man, who stood
close to her, regarding her with a fixed gaze.

The stranger, like all of the men around, was clad entirely
in scarlet and gold, and his costume was extraordinarily rich.
He was armed like all the rest, and wore his hair long and
flowing.

But poor Marguerite noted nothing in particular as yet.
All she was conscious of was that wild men, with dark,
fierce faces and long, streaming black hair, were all around
her, talking in some strange language that she could not un-
derstand; and their chief stood with his strange eyes fixed on
hers in a manner that made her tremble. She was like the
bird under the gaze of the serpent, powerless to move. Her
own dark eyes, unconsciously pleading and piteous, were
riveted on those of the chief, as she knelt there with clasped
hands. ‘

What was her amazement, then, to be addressed by this
wonderful-looking chief in her own language, spoken with
perfect purity.

“ What is your name, child?” asked he, in a voice of sin-
gular depth and sweetness.

Marguerite hardly understood him yet, she was so bewil-
dered with terror. He smiled kindly, and laid his hand on
her shoulder.

“Fear not, little one,” he said; “you are among friends
now. What is your name?”

Marguerite looked up in the stranger’s face. It was one
of those dark, handsome, wicked faces, that a fallen angel
might have worn. But now, with the smile that lighted it
up, it looked so beautiful and grand that the simple child
thought it perfect. All her terror seemed to vanish, under
the magic influence of that single glance. Without knowing
how it came about, she had told him her name, and all her
little history, up to the time of the attack of the savages.
More she did not know. She was quite unconscious of. her
father’s horrible fate.

“ And :who are you, monsieur?” she asked him, at the
close of her little tale, to which the other listened attentively.

The stranger drew himself up proudly. A smile lifted his
.long, drooping mustache, as he answered:

“I am a man of whom half the world hereabouts talks as
43 prince, the other half as a devil. If you wish the name I
go by, here it is, written on my dress, and that of my crew.

I am THE RED RAJAH.” ‘ .
Marguerite did not understand him, but she said nothing.

She looked around her with more confidence, however, and
beheld old Marie close to her, on her knees, gabbling over
her prayers as fast as she could, with her eyes closed, evi-
dently expecting immediate death. Her young mistress
went to her, and roused her with the assurance that they
were safe, while the Red Rajah was speaking to one of his
men.

The man salaamed respectfully, and replied in a few
words. The Red Rajah turned to the girl.

“ Your friends are all dead, I think,” he said; “and you
had best ask no questions about them. They are dead, and
you are left alone. You must come with me.”

The girl did not burst out crying, as he expected. The
poor child had suffered too terrible a shock to leave her the
power for that. She only turned to him pleadingly.

“ Oh! monsieur,” she said, “ I knew it. What shall I do?
What shall I do?"

“ You will come with us," was the reply. “ I win take
you to my home, where the paradise bird flutters among the
palm trees, and the flowers bloom all the year round. There
you shall .be the queen of a thousand slaves, and the wealth
of the Indies shall be poured at your feet. » Will you come,
Marguerite?” ’ '

His great dark eyes became strangely soft and luminous
as he spoke, and his voice was like the cooing of a dove.

But something in the expression of his face disturbed Mara

 

guerite. The innocent child hardly knew whether to be at-
tracted or repelled by this man. She clung‘ closer to old
Marie, as she timidly said:

“Thank you very much, monsieur. Thank you—but—
but—I would rather go to Pondicherry, if you please. I
have an aunt living there, who— Please, monsieur, please
let ,me go to Pondicherry, dear monsieur."

The girl turned her large liquid eyes on his, imploringly.
Her long, silky black hair hung down on each side of her
poor little pale face; and she might have melted a heart of
stone. The Red Rajah looked at her fixedly, out of his
glowing eyes, for a moment. Then he patted her shoulder
encouragingly.

“Very well, little one,” he said; “you shall go there,
after a little while. But you must come with me now.
Come."

As he spoke, he offered her his arm, with a courtly grace
a king might have envied.

Marguerite took it timidly, and walked beside him, while
old Marie hobbled behind. The Rajah gave some orders to
his men, who ran ahead through the woods in great haste,
to cut a path for their leader with their chopping-knives.

The Rajah and his young companion then moved leisurely
forward through the woods, till they reached the summit of
a long ridge, that ran down to the ocean from the interior
of the island. Marguerite uttered an involuntary cry.

“Oh! how beautiful," she exclaimed, as her eyes rested
on a small semicircular bay, glittering in the rays of the sun,
with a surrounding beach of snow-white sand. Little
sparkling wavelets kissed the shore with a low, murmuring
noise. The hills sloped gently down all round the bay to
the edge of the shore. The graceful, drooping heads of
cocoa-palms, the feathery tree-ferns, the lofty durion—tree, .
and hundreds of trees and vines of different kinds, lent an
air of luxuriant richness to the scene. Sea-gulls were wheel-
ing to and fro all over the hay, which the rising land-breeze
was just beginning to ruflie.

Close to the shore, and inside the encircling reef, which
was out here by a channel, lay three strange-looking vessels.
Marguerite and the Rajah, proceeding to the beach, entered
a canoe and were paddled to the largest of the vessels, where
the polite Rajah handed her to the stern, and placed her on
a softly—cushioned seat over the poop-cabin. From this po-
sition she could see the whole interior of the vessel, and a
singular craft it was. Being exceedingly narrow and sharp,
the war-boats could never have stood up in the seas and
storms of those latitudes, without assistance. This was af-
forded by a second vessel, as it were, attached to one side of
the war-boat, by two strong, heavy beams, of an arched

form, like the flying buttresses in a Gothic church. This

second vessel or outrigger was a long stick of timber, care-
fully pointed at both ends, so as to offer the least possible
resistance to the water, and shaped like the war-boat itself.
The outrigger beams were nearly twenty feet long, and the
leverage afforded by them enables these sharp vessels to
stand up under all sail in very heavy weather, by sending
some men out on the outrigger to balance the boat with
their weight.

The Rajah stood near the girl on the fighting-deck, super-
intending the watering of his vessels. The last load had been
taken aboard and stowed, and the men were hoisting in the
canoe, when a shout from the outside vessel caused the chief
to turn sharply to the horizon outside.

“Busar pralm,* quah! Busah prahu l” shouted a tall
man, evidently commander of the furthest vessel from the
richness of his attire, pointing seaward.

'l‘he Rajah looked fixedly in the direction indicated.
Marguerite’s eyes followed his, and she beheld on the horizon
the well-defined sails of a large ship. The Rajah spoke to a
pretty Dyak lad who stood by, and the boy dived into the
cabin behind. He reappeared with a beautiful double-glass
of the best London make which he handed to the Red Rajah.
The chief took it, and inspected the stranger long and keenly.
When he lowered the glass, there was an ugly look on his
face, such as Marguerite had not seen yet. He had looked
like a fallen angel before. The devil traits began to darken
the haughty beauty of his face now.

' He closed the glass and gave it back to the boy. Then,
raising the whistle to his lips, he blew three short, quick
pufis into it, that proved the signal of activity.

The instant they were heard, the crew rushed to their work
like, a hive of bees. The long cables, made of the ever-use-
ful ratan, which supplies the place of cordage in the Malay
Archipelago, were hauled in, and the anchors brought on

t “A large ship! A large ship!”

The Red Rajah. 5

 

 

board. The latter were made of ironwood, the crooked fork
of a tree being chosen. Indeed, every thing on board the
native war-boats is made of wood, lashed with ratau. Not
a single nail is used anywhere.

Marguerite beheld with astonishment the process of making
sail. Instead of masts, there were two triangles, formed of
stout, heavy spars, lashed together at the top, the ends resting
between heavy blocks of wood under the bulwarks. These
triangles could be raised or lowered at will, and were soon
hauled up, and set on end, raking forward. There were two
of them on each vessel, which were erected in about a min-
ute.

Each of them supported a yard of immense length, made
of bamboos spliced together, on which a triangular sail of
cocoa-nut mat was spread. The butt of each yard was
hauled down to the deck, the lofty peak of the lateen sails
mounted in the air, and the next minute the Rajah‘s war-boat
skimmed out of the little bay, through the opening in the
coral reef, and stood out into the open sea. The others fol-
lowed immediately after; and, as the sun was now fast de-
clining, the breeze freshened.

The war-boats drew swiftly out from the lee of the land,
and, as they did so, hoisted their jibs, and shaped a course
toward the strange ship.

The speed with which the pirate cruisers cut the water
was amazing. The swiftest yacht would have had no chance
with them, on account of their peculiar model. Like a rac-
ing shell, they offered hardly any resistance to the water, and
yet the steadying properties of the outrigger rendered them
“ as stiff as a church."

The Red Rajah walked the deck of his vessel, his eye
glancing from the stranger back to his own deck. He had
forgotten all about the presence of the child he was carrying
off, and was only intent on his prey.

The strange vessel was beating up, laboriously, toward the
island. From the general clumsiness of her appearance, as
they saw her more plainly, she seemed to be a Dutch vessel.
The bluff bows and steep sides, the short masts and squat-
looking sails were sure indications of the phlegmatic Hol-
lander.

The Rajah saw that the Dutchman was in his power. He
had the weather-gauge in the first place, and could sail three
or four feet to the other’s one.

He had not been half an hour on the seas when the
stranger‘s decks became plainly visible. And yet the Dutch-
man, although he saw the war-boats, seemed to have no alarm
about them, but held on his course steadily, till the pirates
were within half a mile of her, when the ship suddenly wore
round and showed them her stern, going cfl before the
wind.-

A simultaneous yell from all the pirates announced their
appreciation of the tardy compliment to their prowess, when
the Dutch vessel spread her sternsails below and aloft; and
made the best of her way to the south-east. _

But all the sail she could crack on could not make her a
match for the swift war-boats of the pirates, who came up,
hand over hand, on either quarter. .

The Rajah’s war-boat was within a cable’s length in less
than a quarter of an hour, when the chief sounded his war-
whistle again. At the signal, over two hundred active forms
leaped upon the fighting-deck from below, and a tremendous
yell rent the air. At the same moment, the three long swivel
guns, with which the pirate was armed, went off on the deck
below, and a shower of grape-shot and pieces of iron flew all
over the Dutchman.

But there occurred a transformation in the latter so sudden
and amazing as to awe even the dare-devil pirates for a mo-
ment. .

A screen of canvas, ingeniously painted to represent the
clumsy outline of a merchant ship, was dropped from all
along the sides of the strange vessel, and the black hull and
grinning ports of a man-of-war became visible to the aston-
ished Malays.

“ I thought so," muttered the Red Rajah, fiercely, to him-

' self. “ But you let us get too close, Mynheer, before you
showed your teeth.”

And he spoke the truth.

Even while he was talking, the corvette (for such she was)
put her helm a—starboard, and came sweeping broadside to

the Malay war-boats. But the latter were so close to them that l

the salvo of artillery which roared out now was well-nigh
ineffectual. Nine out of ten of the shots went overhead, and
made havoc with yards and sails.

Now the Red Rajah showed in his true colors, and

 

 

 

deserved the name he bore. At a put! of his wanwhistle,
his own masts and yards were sent down on deck in an in-
stant, and the war-boats ranged up alongside of the corvette.
A dozen huge hooks flew through the air, and caught in the
chains of the stranger, grappling war-boats and ship in one
deadly embrace. I

The Red Rajah himself was the first to spring up the cor-
vette‘s side, kriss in hand. His dark eyes were blazing; his
long hair streamed behind him, far below his shoulders; the
cloth of gold and scarlet of his rich dress glistened in the sun.
and he wore in his belt a pair of revolvers, perhaps the first
ever seen on a Malay prahu.

With a yell of ferocity, the whole crew, of the Rajah’a
vessel came swarming in at the open ports and over the bul-
warks of the corvette, only to be received by a discharge of
fire-arms, so close and deadly that the pirates recoilcd before
it for a moment.

The next, headed by the tall form of the Red Rajah, they
closed in a desperate hand—to-hand fight, kriss against cutlass.

CHAPTER III.
caromo A TARTAR.

Trm strife on the deck of the man-of-war, so suddenly
boarded by the Red Rajah, was sanguinary and ferocious to
the last degree. The Malays, wild with excitement, plunged
into a hand-to-hand struggle with loud yells. The sailors of
the man-of—war were armed with cutlasses and revolvers, and
their fire was tremendous. But the red-clothed pirates, with
their long krisses, stained with poison,* were so closely
jammed up with the others, that the cutlasses were almost
useless, and many of the sailors were driven to their sheath-
knives.

Still the incessant iire of the revolvers for the first few
moments made such slaughter among the pirates, that they
wavered in their assault. l

The trumpet-like voice of the Red Rajah, shouting “ Mari!
Mari!" (come on! come on!) restored the combat to more of
equality. His men appeared to be electrified at the sound,
and pressed forward, following his tall figure.

A revolver in each hand, and his long kriss between his
teeth, the Red Rajah dashed into the press, shooting right
and left. At every shot a man fell, and the rest bore back
before the terror of his glance.

It was plain, from the presence of revolvers on board, that
the corvette was no Dutchman. The fact was that the
English squadron on the coast had determined to wipe out
the famous pirate who had scourged the seas so long, and
one of their vessels had disguised herself to follow him.
Had the corvette kept them at long bowls, she could have
destroyed the war-boats’with a few of her heavy broadsides.
Fearing their escape by superior swiftness, the captain of the
“Vengeance” had enticed them close in by his disguise;

With ordinary Malays the device would have been a sure
success. They would have turned tall at the first sight of
the sloop’s battery. But the Red Rajah was made of sterner
stuff. He knew his immense superiority in numbers, and
determined to use it.

While his own crew was boarding the corvette on the star‘
board side, the second war-boat swept round on the other
tack, and ran up alongside of the Englishman on the port
side.

The third pirate lufled up on the corvette’s quarter, just
as the Rajah was boarding, and sent a whole volley of grape
shot into the cabin windows, and rattling over the decks.
Then all three grappled the man-of—war together, and the
wild devils of Malays climbed on board like a swarm of ants.

The Englishman lost his chance of victory in that rush.
He had fancied that it was impossible for wild, undisciplined
Malays, poorly provided with fire-arms, to stand up against
hearty, beef-fed sailors, well armed.

Inside of five minutes, attacked in front, flank and rear by
merciless devils who gave no quarter, the bold Briton began
to realize that in catching the Red Rajah he had caught a
Tartar. In ten minutes more, beaten down to the deck, and
run through and through by the spear of a wild Dyak, the
imprudent captain breathed his last, and the Red Rajah had

triumphed.

.The Hall“ pirates poison their krissas with pineapple juice. Thu
krissMisla. ‘ong dagger with a wavy serpentine double edge, peculiar to
the a ays

 

6 The Red Raj ah.

 

His victory had cost him dear. No quarter on either side
was given or asked. The pistols of the corvette’s crew had
done terrible execution, and at least a hundred and fifty of
the Malays were killed and wounded. But all of the English-
men, without exception, were down, and the Rajah was alone
in his glory. ~

He gave a few brief orders, and the merciless character of
the man and his crew were fully exhibited in them.

All the killed and wounded, English and Malay, were
coolly thrown overboard. The pirates could not be burdened
with such trash, and so saved the expense of a surgeon. The
Malay sea-rovers bear a strong resemblance, in their total dis-
regard of human life, to the old Norse Berserkers and Vik-
ings, who once tyrannized over all Northern Europe.

The Red Rajah himself was a typical sea-king. His lofty
stature, his wonderful prowess in the fight, his long, wavy
hair and long mustache made him look like one. His rich
dress, glittering with jewels, was now all covered with blood
from collar to hem. His feet waded in it ankle deep, and yet
he was unwounded. The terrible piratical prince appeared to
hear a charmed life.

While the obedient crew dragged the dead bodies to the
open ports, to fling them overboard, the Rajah appeard to be
considering something. He walked the quarter~deck of the
sloop-of-war, casting an occasional glance up at her rigging.
One of his own men was at the wheel, steering the collection
of vessels, which were drifting seaward before the wind.

The chief of one of his war-boats came up to him, as he
paced up and down.

“ Great Rajah!” he said, hesitatingly, “ far be it from me
to disturb my lord; but the men report a steamer in sight,
and after us."

As he spoke, the Rajah turned round and looked in the
direction indicated by the other.

Not far from the coast of Papua, was a moving column of
smoke, that indicated a steamer. She was coming toward
them most unmistakably.

The Rajah shook off his reverie. He turned, and addressed
the captain:

“Tell the men to collect all the arms of the dead English-
men. They must learn to use the weapons of the Christian

dogs. Let all of my men go back to their prahus. We
will carry away all the powder and shot of the Christians,
and burn their ship before the steamer comes near us.”

He went forward, and personally superintended the collec-
tion of the arms. The Red Rajah was obviously well ac-
quainted with the merits of modern improvements in fire-
arms, and capable of availing himself of them. The maga-
zine of the corvette was rifled, and boxes of ammunition,
most precious of prizes, transferred to the pirate war-boats.

All the guns of the corvette were dragged to the middle of
the vessel, and pointed so as to direct their fire out of one
broadside. Double charges, and three cannon balls apiece,
were loaded into them, and the guns were primed.

Then the Rajah ordered all his men aboard their vessels,
and remained alone in the corvette. The three war-boats
cast off their grappling-irons, and went to leeward of the
ship, awaiting the coming of the Rajah. The latter arranged
a train of powder to communicate with all the guns in suc-
cession; Powder was plentiful. He scattered it thickly all
over the deck among the guns; made little heaps of it on
the checks of the carriages; and finally made a second train,
leading down the open hatchway into the magazine below.

The pirates only took away the small arms, ammunition
and a few casks of powder. What remained in the ship
weighed several tons.

“ If the Englishman doesn’t sicken at that, he’ll be a stout
fellow,” said the Rajah, sardonically, as be surveyed the pre~
parations. By his orders all the sails of the corvette had
been lowered to the deck, the slings of the yards being cut.
The corvette lay with her naked masts pointing to the sky,
drifting in the current setting seaward. The Red Rajah
took a last look astern. The steamer was in full sight, com-
ing on at full speed. From her appearance he conjectured
her to be French, although she carried no flag as yet. She
was not more than a mile ofl now. ,

“Time for work now,” muttered the pirate. “ Let us set
the trap.”

He picked up a musket, left leaning against the port, and

examined it. A long, thin cord of Japanese silk twine was
fastened to the trigger. The Rajah stepped to the side and

waved his hand to the men in the war-boats. It could now
be seen that two long cables were stretched, head and stem,
from the corvette to two of the pirate craft. As he waved

 

1

his hand, the men in the war-boats strained on the cables, so
as to interpose the ship’s hulk between them and the coming
steamer. The Rajah stayed on board, training the guns
carefully, so as to point low. When he saw that the steamer
was still coming, head on to the ship, he blew his whistle,
stepped to the side opposite, knelt down, placed the muzzle
of the musket in a heap of loose powder, and cooked the
piece.

A canoe was waiting for him under the ship‘s side, into
which he leaped, and was rapidly rowed to the chief war-
boat.

There he stood, on the roof of the poop-cabin, his eyes
sternly fixed on the swiftly-advancing steamer, still holding
in his hand the thin string that was to spring the trap to
hurl so many souls into eternity. As the Red Rajah looked
out on his enemies, all the softness was gone from his face.
He resembled Lucifer, the fallen angel, defying the Almighty
from the hell into which his crimes had flung him.

The crews of the war-boats strained on the cables, and
carefully shielded themselves behind the hull of the corvette.
The steamer, as if suspecting some trap, moved off in a wide
circle, to bring her guns to bear. But the Red Rajah only
laughed his own sardonic laugh, as he waved his hand to di-
rect his vessels to the right.

“ You may circle and circle,” quoth the pirate chief,
aloud, as be surveyed the enemy; “ but ’ware the tiger’s
claws, if you come near!”

Suddenly he gave a violent start. Some one touched him
on the arm.

He looked round, and, for the first time, became conscious
that little Marguerite was on deck! There she was, close to
him, her eyes fixed on his imploringly, and full of tears.
The poor child was pale as death.

Old Marie was on her knees, still conning her rosary, and
repeating Ave Marias as fast as she could say them. The

old woman was nearly demented with terror.
In the overmastering excitement of the fight, the Rajah

had forgotten all about them both!

_“Grand Dieu, Marguerite!" he exclaimed, starting back;
“why are you not below? Suppose you had been killed!
Here, Alil Hassanl Mohammed! How dare you leave
this girl exposed to danger? Thousand devilsl If she is
hurt, I’ll throw you all overboard, curse youl”

The men he addressed cowered before the savage glare of
his eyes, but little Marguerite herself spoke.

“ It was all my fault, my lord Rajah,” she said, pleadingly.
“ I could not go below, though they asked me.”

“ You have done wrong, child," he said, sternly. “ Sup-
pose a stray shot had come your way?”

“And why not?” said Marguerite, sadly. “ Oh, my lord
Rajah! you have been so good and kind to poor Marguerite.
Why should you be so cruel to others? There is yet time to
flee without doing more murder. Spare those poor creatures
coming up now I”

The Red Rajah looked at her with a peculiar smile.

“ Would they spare me 9" he asked, as he pointed, with a
hand all covered with blood, at the advancing steamer.
“What, think you, would be my fate if I let them come near
me? What right have they in these seas, more than I? Be
still, child! My life, and that of all those with me, hang on
the destruction of yonder steamer.”

“My lord,” she said, clasping her hands, ” you can escape.
Your vessels are so swift, and the wind so strong, that you
can escape, if you will. You have been so mighty in fight,
that you can afford to lose the cheap triumph of a cold
blooded murder.”

The Red Rajah started and frowned. He looked down
upon the fragile figure of the girl, with a glance half-angry,
half-scornful.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “How dare you preach

to the Red Rajah on his own quarter-deck, with an enemy
bearing down on him? Girl, go below!"
‘ He pointed, imperiously, to the stairway of the cabin as
he spoke, but Marguerite never stirred. The little creature
looked up into his eyes, with a quiet courage astonishing in
one so fragile.

“ My lord,” she said, and her voice quivered as she spoke,
“you have been very kind to Marguerite. Grant her this
one request. Spare those poor people, and fly.”

The Red Rajah stared at her in amazement.

“Do you know who I am, girl?” he asked. “Look at
this hand. Remember what you have seen. Remember my
name, and then dare to ask the Red Rajah for mercy.”

Marguerite made a step nearer to him.

 

WWW... 

 

The Red Raj ah. '7,

 

 

“ My lord Rajah,” she said, quietly, “ for the last time, I
ask you to spare those people. See—I ask it on my knees.
The demoiselle De Favannes begs their lives of you. The
Red Rajah ought not to let a lady kneel in vain."

As she spoke she cast herself at his feet.

The Red Rajah looked down on her, not unkindly. She
was very beautiful, as she knelt there pleading for mercy.
lie softly stroked her long, black curls, with a half-smile at
her boldness, but his eye was cold and pitiless.

“ I am very sorry, my child," he said, in his soft, deep
voice; “ but what you ask is impossible.”

Marguerite rose to her feet, and confronted him again, with
a strange light in her eyes.

“Enough!” she said. “ You have shown me what I have
to expect from you. Now, listen: You think you have me
safe, and can refuse me as you please. Behold, then."

Before the pirate chief suspected her intention, the girl
had sprung to the side of the vessel, and leaped on the low
bulwarks. She stood there, with one little foot on the chase
of a brass swivel-gun, the other on the bulwarks, suspended
over the sea. .

“Behold, my lord Rajah!" she cried. “ There is the sea,
and there are the sharks. You wish to keep me, but, on the
faith of Marguerite de Favannes, if you do not cease your
design, I will leap into the sea at once. Nay, not one step
nearer, or you shall never see Marguerite again."

The Red Rajah turned deadly pale when he saw the frail
girl suspended over the sea. The determination of her face
showed that she was in grim earnest, and the sea was full of
ravenous sharks.

“ Come dowu, Marguerite,” he faltered. “ I promise——
only come down."

As he spoke, he dropped the string in his hand, and held
out his arm to rush toWard her. The girl leaped down on
deck, and the Rajah’s vessel moved out at the wave of the
chief’s hand. The hawsers at either end of the corvette were
dropped, and, as if by magic, the three war-boats were cov-
ered with sails in a moment.

The people of the steamer, seeing preparations for hasty
flight, bore down at full speed on the corvette.

Then something unforeseen happened. Marguerite, happy
in seeing that they were escaping, had forgotten all about the
innocentalooking string that lay on the deck, fast running out
over the bulwarks, as the swift war-boat skimmed away.

Suddenly she felt something catch in her foot, and found
that it was entangled in a maze of twine. She had stepped
on the end of the coils inadvertently.

A thin string, dripping with water, was seen to rise from
the sea between the Rajah’s war-boat and the corvette.

There was a flash, and the roar of twenty heavy guns,
directed full on the steamer. Then a wider flash, a more tre-
mendous roar, followed by the spectacle of the great ship
become a volcano of fire and smoke, falling in a shower ,of
burning fragments all over the steamer.

Overcome with horror, Marguerite sunk on her knees,
while the Rajah pointed with a triumphant sneer to the dis-
abled steamer. She was on fire in fifty places, and poor
Marguerite was her unwitting destroyer.

 

CHAPTER Iv. '
TEE WHALER.

THE broad, beautiful sea was curled into glad ripples, all
over its dark surface, when a young man in a small canoe, out
in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, suddenly uttered a glad
cry, as he beheld a little white speck on the northern hori‘
zon.

The man was Claude Peyton, and was all alone.

The little whith speck at first hardly visible on the blue
11 e of the horizon, increased every moment in size, as the
canoe sped blithely to meet it. At last it resolved itself into
a square-rigged vessel—a small brig, closehauled, standing

' west.

The canoe, going free, rapidly approached the other.
First, the stranger‘s royals appeared above the sea. Then,
bit by bit, topgallantsails and topsail became visible. At
last, Peyton could see the fore-course slowly lifting, and it
was soon followed by the checkered black and white hull of
a regular old-fashioned brig.

The canoe was going like a race-horse, and rapidly closed

 

 

in toward the brig. Within a quarter of a mile of her at
last, the young adventurer was cheered by the knowledge
that he was noticed. The brig backed her main-topsail, and
lay to, waiting for him, while Peyton ran down on her quarter,
and brought up alongside.

A round, red face, fringed with black whiskers, looked
over the-brig‘s quarter, and a rough voice hailed him.

“ Boat ahoyl Who the Old Harry are you?”

Claude Peyton laughed aloud. He did not wonder at the
question. His appearance was certainly quite peculiar. He
had no clothes save a small kilt of Papuan manufacture.
The savages had loaded him with bracelets and necklaces of
beads, which he had neglected to take 011’, and his hair was
frizzed out in regular Papuan style. In every thing but
color, he might have been a perfect Fejee or Papuan.

'l‘he honest captain evidently took him for one at first.
But his white skin, (now pretty well tanned), and the big
brown beard he wore, more particularly puzzled the mariner.

Claude laughed aloud at the brusque question, but
answered, plain enough, in English. ‘

“ rm 8. white man, who has just escaped from the savages
of New Guinea, by running off and stealing a canoe. Can I
come aboard or not?" > ' .

“A white man! God bless me!" exclaimed the kind-’
hearted sailor. “ Come aboard? Yes; certainly, by all
means. Here, catch this rope. Eh! Mr. Jones! Mr. Ed-
wards! Here’s a white man, come all the way from New
Guinea, in a savage canoe. Come'on board, sir, come on
board. Never heard of such a thing in my life. Why, you
must have come .over 'twelve hundred miles in that little
cockleshell.” -

Bustling about, and talking alternately to the young
stranger and his mates, the captain used his best endeavors
to help Peyton aboard.

His reception, as soon as they found what he was, was,
cordial beyond measure. Inside of half an hour he was
seated at dinner with Captain Briggs, of the good brig Lively
Sally, from London, on a whaling voyage. ‘The captain sup-
plied him with a suit of his own clothes, and the hands of
the steward, who had formerly been a barber, it appeared,
were busy with the scissors, clipping the luxuriant growth of
frizzled hair from his head. No one would have recognized,
in the bronzed but gentlemanly-looking young sailor, with
close-cut hair and well-trimmed heard, the wild-looking sav-‘
age who had come alongside in the morning. ,

“ And now, my dear sir,” said the polite captain, a fine
specimen of the honest sailor, “I’m sorry, but, I’m afraid
you’ll have to cruise about with me after whales a bit,'before
you can get aboard a ship bound your way. You say you‘re
fond of adventure; so‘I suppose you’ll not object to whaling
a bit." . ,

“Not in the slightest," returned Claude; “I’ve always had
a great desire to see a whale caught." ’

“Which you shall very soon, sir,” said the captain. “ But,
tell me how you got into this part of the world, if not too
bold.” .

” I started from America in my own yacht two years ago,”
replied Peyton. “ We cruised all over the Pacific and Malay-
sin, but the yacht got strained a bit, in a. typhoon, and I had
to sell her at Sydney. A rich young fool, fresh from the,
mines, bought her for a big price, and I was left all alone in
Sydney. I saw a French vessel in the harbor, which was
going back to the Marquesas Islands, with stores for the
French Governor there; and I took a fancy that I‘d like to
see those islands. They took me there, and I was bored to
death. However, I didn’t have long to stay there. A French
frigate, called the Plu'lomela, arrived at the islands, bearing
orders to supersede the old Governor, and send him to
Pondicherry. I was permitted to take passage with‘ them, -
to which I owe the wreck on the Papuan coast, and my
twelve months’ captivity." r

“ Wonderful, upon my soul," remarked the captain; “ but
tell me—was any one taken prisoner with you?” '

“Five of us escaped from the wreck," replied Peyton.
“ The captain and marquis I saw eaten with my own eyes.
I was saved by the accident of having a sacred taboo-mark
on my breast. But there is a mystery about the other
two. They had got ’all ready to kill them, a sweet little.
girl, the Governor’s daughter, and her old nurse. I tried t0"
save the child, but they tore me away, when a lot of fellows
in red, with guns, came up and began firing into the'sav-
ages, and drove them away. The savages carried me off so
quick that I could not tell if the child was killed or not.
But if such a thing is possible, if the poor child is alive any

8 The Red Rajah.

 

 

where, I will hunt her out, if I have to cruise all over the
Malay archipelago after the cursed pirates."

“ Very good, indeed, sir,” said Captain Briggs, absently.

Peyton saw that his thoughts were not by any means on
the fate of pretty little Marguerite.

A hoarse shout from the mast-head, coming down the
companionway, at this moment startled the captain with
sudden excitement. He leaped to his feet, clapped his oil-
skin hat on his head in an instant, and echoed the cry with
his jolly old voice.

“ THERE SHE BLOWS!"

It was the well-known signal of a school of whales in
sight. Captain Briggs forgot politeness and every thing else
in his eagerness, as he rushed upstairs in a tremendous hurry.

“WHERE AWAY?" he yelled, as soon as his mouth
cleared the companionway.

“Port bow, sir," replied the man at the mast-head.

Claude Peyton was already on deck behind the captain.'

His heart leaped with excitement as he looked to the wind-
ward, and beheld the whole sea all alive with little white
spouts, and with huge whales leaping out of the water in un-
wieldy gambols, the spray glittering in' the declining sun.

It was a large-sized school of whales, and the Lively Sally

.was within a quarter of a mile of them.

CHAPTER V.
mmmN.

TEE expanse of ocean covered with spouting whales, the
enormous size of the creatures themselves, seemed to Claude
Peyton, when he came on deck, to preclude the possibility
of successful attack by such puny creatures as man. Every
now and then one of the monsters would leap right out of
the water in play, showing a carcass that looked as large as
the brig itself. ' "

But the men were all merrily at work, laughing and jok-
ing, as they made their preparations to pursue their gigantic
prey.

“ Now, Mr. Peyton," cried jolly Captain Briggs, as the
young man stood by the blnnacle,’ watching the busy scene.
“ You said you’d like to see a sperm whale killed, and here’s
a big school of them right alee. D’ye want to come in my
boat?" ,

“ Thanks, captain,” said Claude. “ The very thing
would have asked, but feared to be in the way.” '

“ No fear,” said the captain, heartily. “ You shall come.
All you have to do is to sit still. ”

Five minutes afterward the order was given to “lower
away," and four whale-boats dropped simultaneously from
the side ofthe Lively Sally, and pulled away at racing speed
for the school, right toward the setting sun.

Claude sat‘ in the stern of the captain’s boat, and, being
quite unemployed, was able to watch the whole chase,
which he did with a keen pleasure amounting to intoxicav
tion. ‘

Nearer and nearer comes the school of whales. Absorbed
in their gambols with each other, they have not noticed the
white whale-boats, almost invisible in the curling foam of
the waves. The chief mate’s boat has drawn ahead of the
rest, and shoots on almt st into the midst of the whales.
Claude feels all the mad excitement of the race, and longs to
pull an ,oar himself, to help on his own boat. The men in
the chief ‘mate's boat strain hard at the tough ash, and
Claude sees the mate himself’rising up in the bow, with the
glittering harpoon'in‘ his hand. ‘ He holds it in both hands,
point upward, close to the great black body of an enormous
whale, that “breaches” within twenty feet of the boat.

Claude sees the huge head, as large as a small house, rush
beldly out of theses, the white water foaming and glittering
as it rains ofi thé'immense mass. Then the mate casts the
harpoon, with all his force, up in the‘ air, the weapon do-
scribing a graceful curve, and plunging, point down, into the
whale’s side. '

“ Stern all!” yells the mate, as the unwieldy mass before
him receives the stroke. ' ' ' ‘ '

The great cachalot leaps clear out of the water as it feels
the sing of the harpoon; and then, lashing the waters with
its flukes till all the sea around is white with foam, down,
down it goes into the dark bosom of the ocean.

And at the same instant, as if by magic, every whale of
the school disappears. '

 

The ocean is all alive for a few seconds with the “ flukcs "
of the alarmed animals, hastily “ peaked,” as they all dive.

The boats toss their oars at the signal, and wait. Down,
down, down goes the whale, with no signs of relaxation in
speed. The captain’s boat rows up hastily to the other‘s
assistance, and the line of the second boat is quickly attached
to eke out the first. The whale takes the whole of the first
line and still “sounds” as rapidly as ever, till that, too, is
nearly gone, and a third line is attached. The monster must
have gone down in his first burst over two-thirds of a mile.
The line runs out as rapidly as ever, and the whole tran-
saction has not occupied two minutes yet. The third line
runs out slower, and finally stops. The whale is coming up
to breathe.

No one can tell when or where he will breach. All they
can do is to wait. Presently there is a rushing sound under
the water, a sound .as of many huge bodies forcing their
way. Claude Peyton sees the captain’s red face turn pale as
he looks over the side.

“Pull! pull. boys!" he fairly yells to the men, and cars
are flashing in the sun as the boats pull desperately away
from a common center.

But swifter than the light “ cedars” is the rush of Levia-
than, mad with rage and half blind, as he comes to the sur-
face. Claude is conscious of a tremendous confusion; a
roaring as of ten thousand bulls around the boat; the sea
lashed into white foam by fifty leaping monsters; as the
whole school of whales breaches together all around and
among the boats. .

The scene that followed beggars description. The loud
bellowing or blowing of breaching whales, the sounding
blows of the huge flukes on the crashing boats and water,
the cries of the seamen, some drowning, others in dread of
the sharks, were mingled with the hoarse orders shouted by
the captain and mates. The sun was half-way below the
horizon, and darkness was swiftly advancing to lend new
horrors to the situation. There were only two boats left
afloat, for the chief and the third mate’s conveyances had
disappeared. Claude had started to see a whale caught, and
he seemed likely to be caught himself, instead.

But, as if satisfied with the discomflture of their enemies,
the whales now swam off, and left them to pick up their
companions, just as the sun set. Only six of the last boat’s
crew were saved; and the captain, with much regret, gave
the order to cut the harpoon-line, that was still attached to
the first whale struck.

“Don’t do it, captain!” cried the second mate, earnestly.
“ The devils have given us so much trouble, that we ought
to have our revenge out of him. There’s over four hundred
barrels in that fellow, if there’s a gallon.”

“We can never do it, Coflin,” answered the captain.
“It’s nigh dark now.”

“ Let me foller him alone, Cap,” cried the undaunted
Coflin. “ He’s fast to my boat. Don’t let me lose him. I
kinder hate ter let him go.”

“ As you will,” answered Briggs. “But I’m afraid to let
you go."

“Lord love you, Cap., I’ll fix him!” cried the mate.
“ Here, you extra fellers, get into Cap.’s boat. Don't want
no loafers here.”

“Let me pull an oar!” suddenly cried Peyton; why he
could not tell; “ I've done nothing all day.”

“ Hurry up yer cakes, then,” was the hasty reply, as the
rescued seamen rapidly crowded into the captain’s boat. A
moment later, Peyton was at the stroke-oar of the mate’s boat.

He had hardly taken his seat when the boat was pulled
bows under by the whale, and dashed oif into the twilight,
at the rate of ten miles an hour. Peyton caught a hasty
glimpse of the brig, about a quarter of a mile to leeward,
and astern, beating up to rescue the overladen boat. Then
he had to give his attention to bailing out the water that
came curling in over the gunwale.

Mr. Coffin \vas a thoroughbred Nantucket Whaler. No
man of any other nationality would have dared to hold on
to such an ugly customer as this whale had proved to be,
with a dark night coming on. »But Ezekiel Coffin couldn‘t
see the point of losing an eight-thousand-dollar whale, for
the sake of any danger, however appalling. And the natural
love of soul-stirring excitement peculiar to the American
temperament made Claude Peyton a volunteer in the haz-
ardous feat they were about‘to attempt.

So the boat dashed ofi into the fast-gathering darkness,
drawn at the end of a Whale-line by the most powerful ani-
mal in existence.

r r:

- The Red Rajah. ' 9

 

 

Within an hour after dark they had pulled up, hand-over-
hand, by means of the whale-line, close to the monster,
which they could see plainly in the bright moonlight. It
was all alone now. The drag on its powers, produced by
towing the boat so many miles, had enabled its companions
to leave it far behind, and the daring Coflin at once seized
his lam-e, tostrike the fatal blow.

The boat shoots through the white foam alongside of the
great black body, closer, closer, and still closer. Peyton
strains at his oar, wild with excitement. The end of their
dangerous chase is coming at last. Human skill and courage
are about to vanquish brute force. Now the boat's nose
touches the whale. The keen lance-blade gleams in the
moonlight for an instant. Then the powerful arm of the
sailor drives it deep into the black side of the whale, and a
great rush of red blood spouts forth.

“Starn all!" yells Coflin, and the oars flash in the water
as the boat tries to escape from the rage of the monster. In
vain. Stung by the wound, and wild for revenge, the moun-
tain of flesh lashes around in all directions. The mighty
mass of the forked flukcs waves over the doomed boat for an
instant. The next, it descends with all the force of a can-
non-shot, and crushes boat and crew alike into a shapeless
mass, buried in the water.

All but one. Peyton's life was saved as if by a miracle.
Involuntarin he leaped from the boat, just before the terri-
ble black flukes descended. Striking the water head-fore-
most, he went down into the depths ahead of the boat. The
blow of the cachalot’s tail crushed boat and crew to atoms.
Peyton felt the shock of the blow transmitted to him under
the surface and was almost stunned. Looking up through
the dark waters, he saw the immense body of the whale
moving off from the scene with great rapidity, between him
and the pale moonlight. The next minute he rose to the
surface, panting for breath, and found himself all alone in
the midst of the boundless Pacific.

Not a single soul of the boat’s crew was to be seen. En-
tangled in the coils of the whale-line, and the Wreck of the
whale-boat, smashed out of all semblance of humanity, they
were dragged along, senseless corpses, in the wake of the
mighty bull-cachulot.

And‘ Claude Peyton was left all alone, swimming for his
life in the midst of the fathomless ocean. '

 

C II A P T E R V I.
THE GREAT DEEP.

WE left poor Claude Peyton, so long buficted about by
adverse fortune, in a very perilous position. His boat staved
to pieces by a sperm whale; all his companions crushed to
death; he was left alone, in the midst of a wilderness of wa-
ters, swimming for his life.

For a few minutes, stunned by the suddenness of the ca-

lamity, he was hardly conscious of its extent. By the mere
instinct of self-preservation, he paddled feebly with his hands
to keep himself afloat.
, The water was perfectly smooth. The great white moon
overhead looked placidly down on what seemed to be a sea
of oil. Not a breath of air was stirring. The distant
splashing ripple of the great whale, swimming away from
the scene of the disaster, soon ceased to be audible, and a
dead, solemn Silence fell upon the face of the deep.

In a very few minutes the Virginian regained -his coolness,
and mastered the simple details of his awful position. There
he was, all alone, a helpless mortal. The only question was,
how long could he keep afloat?

The answer would have been easy enough in fresh water.
Not an’hour, in all probability.

But, out at sea, the conditions were diflerent. The water
of the open ocean is so much greater in density than that of
rivers, that a man may float for sevsral hours without much
exertion. ‘

But what. then? A few hours, more or less, was all the
difierence. At last he would get tired of even that slight
exertion. ' And then would come the last struggle. The
feeble hands, groping vainly in the water for support, would
find ,none. The mouth would sink below the surface of the
waves, and the last gasping struggle for breath would only
hasten the end. The rushing brine would choke the labor-
ing lungs, and down, down, down, down, wauld go the

 

 

helpless body, at the mercy of ocean currents and voracious
sharks.

As Peyton revolved the dismal thoughts in his mind, a
sense of overwhelming misery and terror swept over him.
The moon in the sky seemed to reel, and everything turned
dark before his eyes. The taste of the salt waves, entering
at month and nostrils, and making him gasp and choke, in—
voluntarily recalled him to himself. With a desperate ef-
fort, he gained his equilibrium, and tried to throw off th
thoughts of danger. ‘

After all. ,he could swim for hours. If he must die, it
was time enough when he was exhausted. Not now, when
he was full of vigorous strength. He must keep cool and
husband his powers. An American is not made to drown
like a rat.

With these thoughts he calmed himself. Beating the wa-
ter slowly with his feet, be extended his hands on each side,
just paddling enough to keep erect. He remembered to have
read of the powers of swimming of the Polynesians, who
swim nearly upright. The motion he soon discovered to be
far less exhausting.

The discovery elated him. He remembered hearing of in—
stances where the savages of the Marquesas had been nearly
two days in the water, and surviving.

Why should not a white man do the same? True, he
had never studied the art of swimming upright. But he had
often seen the Kanakas at Owyhee, swimming about outside
the rollers. He would imitate them. '

Peyton was a cool, brave man. He would not give up
till he was compelled to. He began to progress slowly
through the water, keeping a. sharp look-out all around him.
He fancied that .he might very possibly come across some
remnants of the wrecked boat. lie remembered very well
the direction in which the whale had gone. It was straight
toward that group of stars just rising in the east. They
were now clear of the horizon. ‘

A thrill of hope came through the young Virginian‘s
heart, as he recognized the constellation. It was the bril-
liant and far-famed Southern Cross. It seemed as if God
had set it in the heavens, and made it rise where it did on
that night, on purpose to encourage him.

The sublime words of the Gospel swopt through his brain,

' as he swam steadily on, with hiseyes fixed on the fiery cross.

“ If God careth for the sparrows, how much more shall he
care for you, oh! yo of little faith.”

Peyton lost all his fears in a moment. He felt that he
should be saved yet, desperate as his position seemed to be.
He swam slowly and steadily on, never relaxing his gaze on
the lustrous symbol of Christianity. He made but little ef-
fort, and yet advanced all the while.

Alone in the middle of the broad Pacific, he lifted up his
heart. and prayed to the God/of the universe.

And an answer came to his prayer,_when he hardly ex-
pected it. Several dark objects became visible ahead of
him, and he knew that he was saved. '

Swimming more rapidly on, he soon laid his hand on the
well-known rounded loom of a floating oar. A cry of thanks-
giving and joy burst from his lips, as he clutched the precious
timber, and felt its buoyant support.

There were several more floating objects, within a circuit
of some fifty yards. Peyton swam about from one to an
other, gathering them together. They proved to be ears
and stretchers, with one or two boards from the wreck of
the boat; every thing, in fact, that had not been entangled
in the whale line and carried 01! by the angry leviathan.

He collected the pieces of wreck together, and felt hope-
ful. He need not drown now. There was enough timber,
to make a float, which would carry him half-way out of the
water. When he had gathered together five oars, three
stretchers, with a piece of board that had been a seat, he
spied one more object close to him, bobbing about on the
water. It was apparently a round piece of cork. Swim-
ming to it, and pulling it toward him, he discovered that
a cord was attached to its under surface. It puzzled him,
what it could be. ,

Remembering, however, that the cord would be useful to

, bind together his little float, he pulled it along behind him,

and swam back. The cord was an especially valuable gift,
just now. Then he remembered that he had no means of
cutting it. He had come out in the clothes of Captain
Briggs, but he had no knife. Indeed his pockets were
empty.

“Never mind," said he ‘tojhimself; “ we will find some
way, if we have to use our teeth.”

..

V and kept to a razor-like edge.

,10‘

The Red Rajah.

 

 

Soho embraced the bundle, of oars and stretchers in his
arms, and began to pass the welcome cord around them.
But before he had pulled up more than five or six feet of
the cord, he found that [it was attached. at the other end to
a stick or pole of some sort. He pulled this slowly up to
the surface, and the mystery was explained.

It was a whaling lance.

These weapons are so aptvto be dropped into the sea,
that a cord and float are kept attached to them in most
cases. This very circumstance had caused the rest of the
lances to be entangled and carried 01! by the whale. But
the one carried by the unhappy mate 'had fallen clear in
some manner, and now remained to assist our hero.

Peyton gave a shout of joy at the discovery. Only night,
he was aware, had saved him, so far, from the attentions of
,the sharks. When morning came, and those gentry woke
,up, he would be seen in all probability, and as certainly at-
tacked. And here was a weapon of defense, thrown into
his hands quite Providentially. More‘than ever, he felt that

 should be saved. Codcould not mean tovslay him, after
such wonderful goodness so far.

He abandoned the intention of making use of the rope.
The lance was too precious to be lost, as it might well be if
detached from the float.

After a little thought, however, he hit upon a way of
fastening his raft together, without the cord. Stripping ofl
his jacket, which he had hitherto retained, he cut and tore
At into strips, with the aid of the lance. The blade of a
whaling lance is broad and thin, made of the finest steel,

He had no difficulty in his
task.

Tying the strips together, and making a rope of them, he
soon manufactured his little fioat. Four of the oars he
made into a bundle, tied together at each end by stout strips
of cloth. The fifth oar helarranged crosswise, in the mid-
dle of the other four, so as to stretch out on each side, and
keep the bundle from rolling over. The stretchers—short,
square pieces of wood, about two feet long—he thrust in at
the junction, and placed the piece ofboard above all.

He had thus manufactured a float on whichyhe could, sit
astride, and have most of his body above the water. It was
not buoyant enough to support his whole weight, standing.
The oars were too small. When hr. stood up, the whole
raft was‘eubmerged, leaving‘him up to his ankles in water.
His footing was too tottering in , that pesitipn, also. ,Solhe
sat‘dqwn,‘ and let his legs hang fifths) water. When did
settle. raft. rose. and .119 ,.e9t,,99.,a_;kossd $1.199? trainees?
abog e the water.

He‘c'ould do nothing more'durlng the night, but strengthen

V his raft. He swam about, doing his best to make it strong

and compact, sacrificing his vest, and finally his flannel shirt,
for the purpose. Before morning, he felt satisfied that his
little conveyance would stand the ordinary strain of the
winds and waves; and, commending himself to the protection
of Providence, Claude Peyton fell asleep on his raft, extended
on the bundle of oars.

When he awoke, it was early dawn. The ocean all round
him was curling into little white waves, under a fresh
breeze. The red glow of sunrise, spread all over the east,
warned him that the day, with its light and its dangers, was
fast approaching. Claude shivered as the chilly breeze
struck on his [bare flesh. Necessity had compelled him to
sacrifice all'of his clothes except a pair of trowsers, and he
was cold. But he soon had other matters to attend to.

Simultaneously with the dawn, the two grand springs of
,human action exerted their [influence over him, excited by
the view of diflerent objects. Hope and fear together seized
him.

L There, inlthe midst of the rosy eastern glow, a large ship
appeared, under all sail, bearing down directly upon him.
From the, loftiness of her masts, and the immense spread of
her sails, compared with’the hull, she was evidently a first-
class clipper or a man-of-war. '

',Would_she see him or not!

Hope cried out “ Yes,” and he gave an involuntary cry of
.ioy- -
‘ It ,was, checked, the nexty'moment, by another sight.

A, sharp, black object, resembling the end of [a Tugkish
Usgimitarh'wesngliding  the trackybetween him andthe
'p.  was'the black, fin of a shark. , ‘ '
39.1%,"??? use see was full of th’sm- 43‘? had Wasted“
all the time. And yet the sight of that ghostly, silently-
.zlidiss spies), seat a cold .flirill .91, Mad through his
veins.

‘1.

 

A shoal of porpoises, a little distance 03, were leaping out
of the water, chasing each other in clumsy play. Albicores
and bonitoes were hunting the flying-fish, beginning their
sport with the coming of dawn. But Claude Peyton saw
nothing else in all the ocean but that sharp, gliding, black
fin, moving to and fro, like a sentry on post.

Had the shark seen him yet or not?

The question was answered a moment after. The black
fin suddenly disappeared. Claude watched anxiously for its
reappearance. Presently all doubt was removed. There
was a ripple in the water, and the shark reappeared, shooting
toward the raft like an arrow.

Peyton picked up the lance which had lain on the raft
before him, and prepared to defend himself. He well knew
the peculiarities of the fish in question, and how a success-
ful defense was possible to a cool man, but he dreaded lest
his little float should be injured in the struggle.

The shark swam up to the raft and halted. It appeared
to be puzzled at the curious construction. From the cruci-
form nature of the float, the fish could not get at the man
in the center, except by coming in between the arms. Claude
could see it plainly now—a large shark, nearly fifteen feet
in length.

The monster gave a wag of its screw-like tail, and glided
off in a circle round the float. Claude watched it carefully,
till 'it had made the entire circuit, and resumed its original
position. Then the animal, as if resolved to make but one
rush, turned its great head inward, the dark, green eyes glar-
ing hungrily, and dashed at Peyton’s left leg, which hung in
the water.

The Virginian was too quick for the shark.

As the creature rushed forward, he lifted his leg, and
wheeled swiftly around so as to drop it on the other side, he-
hind the sheltering 'arms of the cross.

He had inserted two of the boat-stretchers at the intersec-
tion, pointing downward, on purpose to be in the way of any
such attack.

The shark came on with such a rapid dart that the young
man had only time to drop his leg over, when the broad
shovel-nose of the creature came up against the cross of the
float, with a bump that nearly unsettled the rider.

Thrown forward by the concussion, the lance which he
held in his hand was plunged deep into the soft skull of the
shark, and nearly buried there. The amazed fish backed off
immediately, taking the lance with it, but Peyton managed
to clutch the rope in time to prevent losing it. He hung on
like grim death, the shark backing away and shaking with
desperate eflorts, till the long, smooth blade of the weapon
finally dragged out, and left Peyton, erect and triumphant,
to haul it in for further operations.

The shark appeared to be disgusted with his trial. The
brains were oozing out of a great hole in his head, but he
did not appear to be much the worse for it. Still, he did
not renew his attack on the float, and our hero could afford
time to look around him for the ship.

He could see her plainly now, and not far 03, either. Her
sternsails and skysails were all spread, and she was coming
on like a race-horse, between him and the rising sun. ,

But he had but a moment to catch the sight. His enemies
were not done with him yet. As his gaze swept over the ex-
pause of little curling waves, he was startled by the sight of
at least twenty of the well-known sharp, scimitar-like fins, all
coming straight for himself. ,

The telegraphy of the ocean had been at werk, and all the
hungry sharks in the neighborhood were darting toward their
prey.

Claude Peyton felt a sinking at his heart, as he thought
of the terrible odds against him, but he buckled manfully to
his work, and the fight began.

Up came the ravenous monsters, each eager to be first.
hutthesight of the raft checked them all. The shark, like
his land representative, the wolf and hyena, is a cowardly

scavenger. ,He fears a trap.

The whole pom swam round, and round, trying to find an

,openipg. Claude kept a wary watch on their motions. At

last, one of them dived down under the raft.
Peytonbept his looks down. ,He saw the gliding body

sweeping round in a gracefulfic‘urve, and then the monster
wtprne'd, swiftly over, showing his white belly and the gaping
.st trimaran breathed-nose-

gametes, the, time. ._

Drawing up his feet, the young man plupged the keen
lance down into the middle of the white. “begins/ad drew it
up, red with blood. ' ' '

The Red Raj ah. ' 411

 

 

A great gash appeared in the shark, and the creature with
drew hurriedly, with its entrails protruding from the wound,

But Claude had hardly time to withdraw his weapon, when
a second shark made a rush at his leg, in the corner of the
float.

With an involuntary shout of terror, the Virginian with-
drew it hastily, and darted the lance into his assailant’s eye.
The shark wriggled back desperately, only to give place to
another on the other side.

The creatures were ravenously hungry, and grew bolder
every moment. The whole attention of Claude was taken
up in repelling their attacks, and he had the hardest work to
maintain his balance. Again and again he escaped the snap
of the sharp teeth only by a hair’s breadth. If it had not
been for his whaling-lance, he would have fared badly. That
trusty weapon was all red with blood, and had been plunged
into the bodies of six or seven sharks. But Peyton was
growing weak with excitement and hard work. He could
hardly ply his lance any longer. He dreaded the attack of
the next shark, and still more, lest all of them should come
together.

And together they were all coming, at last. Peyton '

shouted aloud with all his might, and splashed the water, in
hopes to frighten off his hungry besiegers. They recoiled a
little, and then swam closer in, stealthily and ominoushy, in
a circle of hungry jaws and glaring eyes. Anightmare spell
seemed to be cast over the beleaguered one. He stared
stupidly at the circle of fierce eyes, without the power of
motion.

 

CHAPTER VII.
'rna LAND on THE MALAY.

Jus'r at the very instant when all seemed lost, when our
hero, weak and exhausted, could defend himself no longer,
the regular thud and splash of oars came down on the breeze,
and Peyton saw the sharks waver. The next minute, a loud
shout from twenty throats close to them, followed by the rush
of a large man of-war’s boat, scattered the cowardly creatures
like a pack of curs.

Claude uttered a fervent “ Thank God!" and turned round,
to behold a long black boat full of men, steered by an oflicer
with a gold band round his cap, and over the stern-sheets
fluttered the flag of his own land, the glorious stars and
stripes! _

The sight was so unexpected, so utterly astounding, that
Peyton hardly believed his eyes for a moment. But he was
reassured by the friendly voice of the midshipman in the
boat, addressing him in his own language.

“You seem to have had a hard time of it, messmate. We
put out the boat just in time.” '

- “You did, indeed," was all that our hero could say.
b He was so exhausted that they had to lift him into the
cat.

Once there, however, and on his way to the ship, which
was hove-to, a few cable-lengths off, he quickly recovered.
A drink of spirits put sufiicient life in him to hear and
answer the remarks of the midshipman.

“ The look-out saw you first," explained the officer.
“When the skipper heard of it, he ordered the jolly-boat
ready. Then the look-out reported that you were at work
fighting sharks, and the old man hove-to, and told us to pull
like heroes. And so we did. Why, you don’t appear to be
hurt much."

“I am not," said Peyton; “only a little exhausted; and
I’ll be better presently. What is your vessel’s name?"

“ The Comanche,” replied the lad. “ She’s a real clipper
under canvas, and we carry a screw, too. Where do you
hail from, old fellow?"

“ That’s rather a long story, young gentleman," said Claude,
dryly. “I‘ve been knocked about the world so infernally
that I hardly know where I did come from. What’s your
captain‘s name?”

“ Captain Pendleton," replied the youngster, stifiily. He
did not like being called “ young " by this half-naked stranger,
picked up in mid-ocean. Besides, his curiosity had been
balked by the other, and he resented that.

“ Pendleton," repeated Peyton, thoughtfully; “ I ought to
know him. What is his Christian name?”

The midshipman stared aghast. Here was this unknown
nobody, probably a foremast hand, claiming the acquaintance
of the magnificent Captain Pendletonl Impudencel

 

“ I think it's hardly probable, my man,” he began,rloftily.
“ that you are acquainted with Captain Pendleton. ‘ I don‘t
think that he associates with men of your stamp.”

Peyton smiled.

“ How do you know what my stamp may be, young man!“
he asked. “ You may be mistaken, you know. If your
captain is Horace Pendleton, of Maryland, he and I went to
school together, and graduated at Annapolis, when you were
in long-clothes.”

The conceited young officer held his peace. He began to
doubt whether the stranger was only a foremast hand, after
all.

When they arrived at the side of the Comanche, and the
stranger mounted the side-ladder, his doubts were very soon
removed.

As a matter of course, the shipwrecked or rescued man
was at once brought before the captain, and the midshipman
had the pleasure of seeing a delighted and astonished recog-
nition take place.

The captain was indeed Claude’s old friend, Horace Peu-
dleton; and the two hid not seen each other since the time
when they had served together as “ middies” in the same
ship. Claude had resigned, after a few years’ service, to ac-
cept a large fortune left him by an uncle in Baltimore; and
Pendleton had risen to the rank of commander.

“Why, Claude Peyton, my dear old friend!” exclaimed
the delighted Pendleton; “you have dropped from heaven,
or sprung out of the sea, to comfort my loneliness. I swear
I never was so glad to see a man in all mylife. Gentleman,
this is my old friend, Mr. Peyton, my classmate at Annapolis,
fifteen years ago. He has sprung from the sea in the nick
of time. Claude, old fellow, come right into my cabin, as
quick as ever you can, and let‘s get some decent clothes on
you. Why, man, where have you been i Never mind.
Come along.” I

And he carried of! Claude in triumph to his cabin, where,
for the second time in twenty-four hours, that much-buffeted
individual was accommodated with a new suit of clothes.

During his toilet, and after, he gave a succinct account of
his adventures since be last saw his friend Pendleton, and the
latter was wonderstruck. '

Claude was introduced to the ofilcers of the Comanche,
and found them very pleasant fellows, now that they knew
him to be the friend of their captain. They Were, of course,
more or less aflected with that supercilious self-conceit so
common among the army and navy officers of the regular ser-
vices. They imagined themselves the salt of the earth, and
voted every one outside of their charmed circle nobodies;
but once recognized, and on friendly terms, they were very
nice fellows.

The Comanche was under orders to cruise among the outer?l
Malay islands for awhile, after which she was to proceed-to
Singapore, and thence to Calcutta. ‘

When she so fortunately came across Peyton she had
already been on the station some months, and was on her
way to Singapore. Claude was very glad to hear this news.
He had experienced so many trials within the year, that he
was by no means sorry to get among the comforts of civili-
zation again. . He made a pleasant trip through the Spice
islands, with his old friend Pendleton, and finally. found him-
self at anchor in the magnificent harbor of Singapore.

Peyton had visited this remarkable place before, but the
view appeared to him as fresh as ever. as he stood on the
quarter-deck of the Comanche, waiting for the captain's gig
to take him ashore. Opposite to him was the broad esplan-v
ads in front of the town, which lay reposing against the side
of a gentle slope and backed by lofty hills. The aspect of
the buildings was full of picturesque romance, for Singapom
lies in the heart of the East. between the Arabs and Hindoos
on one side, and the Mongolians and Malays on the other.

When they went ashore, Peyton soon found a hearty Wel-
come at the house of Mr. Earle, the resident partner -’of the
house of Earle, Hoskins & Co.', of Calcutta, Singapore, Gan» s
ton, London, and New York, ‘to whom he was well‘knbwn
in former times. '

Mr. Earle was a large, florid Englishman, hard-headed and
business-like. He had but one God—the almighty dollar;
but one love on earth—his daughter. Of low andvulgar
extraction himself, originally (his real name was Boggs, and.
he had taken his wife’s name for her fortune), it was yet his
prime ambition to see his daughter mated with some distin-
guished person, who could place her in Soom'rv. .. ’

“ You see, sir," he observed, very frankly, to 

“Tulsa: Annual-m for 3100.000.

122‘ The Red Rajah.

 

 

whom be admired immensely,' as a man of some wealth,’ and
-still :more, ‘of excellent family; “ when my Julia marries,
she’ll bring the man as gets her a plum—yes, sir, a plum*—‘—
and I’ve made up my mind as ’ow she shall ’ave a real gen-
tleman-none of your stuck~up snobs, as can’t show a pedi-
gree, buta feller as can tell ’00 his great-grandfather’s great-
grandfatlier was, hall the way up to the Conqueror.”
It will be perceived, from the above, that Mr. Earle’s
aspirates were frequently neglected, and from the tone of
‘ his speech it may also be inferred that it was after dinner.
This was the fact. Pendlcton and Claude had accepted
the worthy merchant's invitation to “ cut mutton " with him,
as he termed it, and the three gentlemen were enjoying their
chero‘ots after dinner, in' the absence of the lady now under
discussion. ‘

CHAPTER VIII.
mssnsnLE.

01.1) EAnLa’s florid face, with a ring of white hair sur
rounding it, glowed with self-satisfaction, as he continued
his discourse.

“ Yes, Mr. Peyton—yes, capting; and my Julia—though
I say it,_as shouldn’t say it—is just as ’andsome a gal as you
could see if you was hout on a ’oliday. She’d be just as fit
to walk hinto ’is Royal ’lghncss’ drawin’-room as many a
’aughty duchcss‘ I’ve knowed.”

Claude smiled covertly at Pendlcton. The latter took his
cheroot from his mouth, and observed:

1 ” I don't in the least doubt it, Mr. Earle. But, then, you
must remember that we simple Americans have no dukes or
duchésses, nor even royal highnesses.” - -

“i know it, capting," answered the worthy merchant.
“ But then, you see, I’ve been in America myself, and, I
know 'ow much difference there is among you, too. Why,
there's more pride in one of them ’ere Knickerbockers, or a

.Hefihaf-waa", than hin many a lord. No, thank ’Eaven, cap-
ting, I ain’t got any low, beastly pride about me, and I’d
just. as soon my Julia should ’ave a Hef-hef-wee as a Hing-
Jishharistocrat. Mr. Peyton, sir, you ain't a—drinking. ’Elp
V yourself, and pass the bottle.”

Claude's face was red with suppressed laughter, which he
concealed by choking over his wine; but Mr. Earle was quite
unconscious of the ludicrous effect of his cool proposition.

Pendlcton was one of those quiet, grave, gentlemanly men
who have acquired the art of appearing impassive under the
cover of a black beard. By dint of stroking this, and hum-

‘ming and hawing a little, he managed to keep his counte-
nance perfectly grave. .

“ Ah! yes—yes—yes, Mr. Earle,” he drawled, pulling
very hard at his beardr “and so you would just as soon
Miss Julia should marry an F. F. V. as 9. lord? Ah! yes

—I, see; I assure you I feel complimented, and so does Mr.
Peyton." » '

“ No compliment at all, capting,” answered the worthy
man. ” I’m a plain-spoken man, I am, and, dammy, if I
.like a man, I tell him so; There’s no beastly pride about
John Earle. I lived in America four or five year, afore I
Acame , ’ere, sir; dammy, I like the Americans. Yes, sir.
Capting Pendlcton, you ain’t a-drinkin’, sir. ’Elp yourself,
and pass the bottle. N o‘ ’eeltaps, gents. I’m a-goin’ to give
youva, toast, I am. Mr. Peyton, sir, till your glass. ’Ere’s
a very good 'ealth and a hexcellent ’usband to my gal, Julia
w-bleas 'erl And may I live to see my grand-children a-tod-
dlin'round her ’eels, and we miles away from this blarsted
’oie of a hisland." , ‘

Claude and Pendlcton swallowed the toast with all due

honors to‘the fair Julia. Papa Earle had finished something

over in bottle of port since dinner, and, as his utterance

thickened, his affection for his daughter increased.

.“ Gents, both,", he said, waving 'his wine-glass gracefully,
“ you don t know what a treasure the ‘appy man will ’ave ’00
gets my Julia. She‘s the ’andsomest, the ’aughtiest, and the
.heducatede‘st gal in Singapore,-if I do say it, as shouldn’t
may it. ;v ‘Why, bless your ’art, she knows as much as a Box-
ford professor, she does. She can jabber French and, Italian,
«ainghopcras, and you ought to see ’er at a ’op.”

“ A which?" inquired Pendlcton, innocently.

“ A ’op-a‘ hall—a kick up at the governer' ’ouse—a
glance; Lord, sirl She can dance like a- syrup.” »

' The worthy gentleman means I". F. V.. we presume -[Eo.

 

‘ Here Claude Peyton could stand it no longer. Pendlcton
had been giving him sly winks for some time, with the mali-
cious intention of provoking an explosion.

Mr. Earlc‘s “syrup,” whether he meant a seraph or a
sylph, was one too much.

Forgetting politeness, etiquette, and all, he dashed from
the piazza, and ran down the steps into the garden, where
he disappeared behind a rose-thicket, and burst out, yelling
with laughter.

The fuddled merchant turned, gravely, to Pendlcton.

“I was afraid your friend ’ad been drinkin‘ too much,
capting. I suppose ’e’s awful sick just now. I’m very
sorry for the young feller, capting; but if a man don’t know
’ow to stop when ’e's ‘ad' enough, I ain’t to blame. Me and
you, capting, is temperate men. ’Ere’s your good ’ealth, and
’opin’ as ’ow we may see each hother hoftcn."

And Mr. Earle gravely pledged the captain in a tumbler of
port wine, which he had filled by mistake.

Pendlcton shook his head sagaciously.

“ You say very true, Mr. Earle," he observed. “It is a
sad spectacle to see one so young unable to carry off his bot-
tle of port, but we must forgive him. Poor Peyton is an
excellent fellow, Mr. Earle, and one of our best families."

“The very best, sir,” returned the old gentleman, wag
ging his head knowingly, as be refilled his tumbler. “I’ve
been at the ‘Erald’s office in Lunnun, and seen the Peyton
pedigree. They was landed gentry in the hold country,
afore Columbus was ’eard of. And many’s the time as I’ve
been on their place in Virginia. 1 tell you what it is, cap-
ting——if your friend and my Julia ’as a notion to ’itch ’osses
together, I ain’t the man to say ’em nay. No beastly pride
about John Earle."

And he winked knowingly at the other, as be drained his
second tumbler.

While the excellent master of the house was thus dis-
pensing hospitality and praises of his Julia to the Ameri-
can captain, Claude Peyton had his laugh out, all to himself
behind the rose thicket. When he was fairly over it, how-
ever, hc felt very much ashamed of it, and did not dare to
go back, till he had invented some excuse for his incivility,
such as sickness, etc.

While revolving in his mind what to do, the flutter of a
white dress at the turn of one of the long gravel walks
caught his eye. Claude was a susceptible youth, and the
sight of a woman’s dress generally sent him off toward it
He strolled down the walk, with as much unconcern as he
could assume; and, turning the curve, found himself before
an arbor, all covered with camelias and tube-roses. In the
arbor, as he had expected, was the Julia, whose praises had
been so loudly sung since dinner-time.

Now, Julia Earle was an exceedingly handsome girl.
Her father had not been far wrong, when he said that she
was the handsomest, the haughtiest and best educated girl
in Singapore. She was all that, and more, too. She would
have challenged attention in any drawing-room. Julia was
quite tall for a woman, above the average of her sex. Her
face was severely beautiful, of the keen, aquiline type, with
a short, curved upper lip, and a round, firm chin, that be-
tokencd it’s owner to have a will of her own. Her eyes
were very large, and blue, of that flashing, steely blue so
seldom seen. Her hair was remarkably profuse, and of the
brightest gold, thrown back in an imperial wave from her
white forehead, and falling in a shower of curls over a
jeweled comb at the back of the shapely head. Although
so tall, Miss Earle possessed hands and feet of remarkable
beauty, and was quite conscious of it.

Indeed, a certain air of haughty consciousness was the
only defect in her beauty. She looked like a queen in her
own right, and treated every one as if they had been her
subjects.

Claude Peyton had seen her at the dinner-table, before.
But the room, according to custom in that sultry climate,
having been darkened to a sort of twilight, he had only ob-
tained a general impression of a tall blonde, a creature he
ordinarily detested. The fair Julia, moreover, had said not
a word during dinner, except “Thank you,” on one occa-
sion. The Virginian‘s impression, therefore, had been de-
cidedly unfavorable, and the vulgar praise of the muddy old
father had disposed him to look upon the fair Julia as a “ chip
of the old block.”

He was so struck with surprise at the actual beauty of the:
young lady, that he stood dumb for a few moments, hesitat-
ing whether to advance.

The beautiful Julia was lying back in the corner of a

 

The Red Rajah. 13'

 

large rustic seat of bamboo, with a book in her hand, which
she laid down the moment she saw Peyton.

When she spoke, it was in a low, contralto voice, very
deep and sweet, with a slight curl of the haughty lip.

“What? Are you tired of your wine already, Mr. Pey-
ton? I thought that you gentlemen were safe to stay at, the
table till sunset. A cigar'and a decanter are temptations but
few can resist.”

“MayI ask who you mean by ‘you,’ Miss Earle?” in-
quired our hero, with a smile.

He thought to himself that this young lady was a curious
creature, not to say rude.

“ Oh! I mean you men,” returned the lady; “perhaps I
ought to say gentlemen, but then one sees so few nowadays.”

“ Pretty cool, that," muttered our hero; “ this girl wants
to fight, I see."

Aloud, he replied:

“ I suppose it is the influence of the ladies that is lacking
to reform them, Miss Earle. Woman rules the world, you
know; and if she can not teach her subjects manners, it is
most probably her own fault.”

“I deny the inference,” returned Miss Earle, brightening
up. (She loved aconversational sparring match.) “Woman
has no power. If she had, she would soon teach you men
manners.”

“ And wherein have I failed in mine, Miss Earle i"

“ In staying too long at the table, sir. It may do for old-
fashioned Englishmen like pa. But you Americans have
given up that custom, long ago.” H

Beyond the fact of referring to her father as “ Pa,” every
thing about Miss Earle betokened a woman of education and

refinement, with a keen, aggressive mind, fully up to the ‘

topics of the day. Peyton was charmed.

“ I cry you mercy, Miss Earle,” he said; “ but I could not
venture to dictate to a man in his own house, and I made my
escape as soon as I decently coult .”

“ You are forgiven, sir,” returned the lady, graciously.
“ And nowrtell me how you like the East.”

“Well enough to stay here for a long time, if Ialways
had your company,” returned Peyton, seating himself by the
fair one, and doing the insinuating.

Julia looked at him out of her great, solemn eyes for a
moment, as if a little puzzled. She frightened most men;
but this handsome, impudent American was not to be scared
away by proud looks. His merry brown eyes had a lurking
humor in them, that told the fair Julia that he was actually
amused with her—with her, the belle of Singapore.

She felt angry for one moment, but the next found it hard
to resist his handsome face. Few women could, for Claude
was one of those tall, graceful, active young fellows, who
delight the fair sex at sight, and as his powers of mind were
equal, he did not disappoint in conversation.

The fair Julia tried all her wit and sarcasm to put him
down. She was fond of putting young men down. She
found that he knew more than she did, and that his conver-
sation was charming.

They soon fell into talking about books, and Peyton found
that the young lady was a great admirer of Gail Hamilton,
Mrs. Stowe, and the other American ladies who champion
woman’s rights.

But as the Virginian belonged to the opposite party, they
soon fell into a lively discussion, which ended in leaving
them better friends; for they respected each other. No
young and pretty woman ever belongs to the woman’s right
party seriously, and Miss J ulia was by no means displeased
to find her master. Few women are. '

So they loitered in the arbor till the sun had set, leaving
the bright moon high in heaven above them, set in a bed of
glittering stars.

Claude began to like his beautiful companion very well.
He had not met such a handsome and well-eductated woman
ever since he had left home, and the romantic surroundings
contributed to make her interesting.

As the shades of evening drew on, their rambling talk left I

the subject of woman's rights gradually, and wandered to
poetry—dangerous subject!

The sighing of the night-breeze, the perfume of the tube-
roses, the delicious trill of the bulbul, from the jasmin
thicket close by, all began to have their influence on Claude,
who was growing more tender every moment, and the lady
less reserved.

But any love-passage was prevented by the sudden appari-
tion of a white-robed servant, who approached, salaaming.

He bore the sahib’s compliments to the strange sahib and

 

 

the lady. They were recommended to enter the house, as
tigers might be around. Julia Earle exhibited some alarm,
and hurried in. Claude asked the Icitmuggar if he was in
earnest.

“Sartain, yes, sahib," the Bengal replied, bowing pro-

foundly. f‘Tiger prowl round here every night. Go into
Singapore. Kill Chinaman every night.” ,
“ The deuce!" ejaculated Peyton. ” Pleasant country this,

to live in, where you have to keep in the house at nights for
fear of tigers.”

And he followed his hostess into the drawing-room, where *

they played chess till ten o'clock. “Pa” did not put in an
appearance. He was already fast asleep, and Pendleton was
gone back to the ship. , ,L

Claude was installed in the merchant’s house, till he should
choose to leave Singapore. As he lay awake in his room
that night, he fancied that he might feel inclined to stay a
considerable time.

6 H A P T E R I X.
BAJAK BAJAH. ‘
THERE was a ball at the Government-house, and, Claude

Peyton, Esquire, was among the invited guests. It was a. ,

brilliant affair. The rooms were of the largest size, brightly
lighted, and full of people. Starched Englishmen in solemn
black, with the stifiest of white choker” Malay rajahs in
jacket and sarong, glittering with gold and jewels, kriss in
sash; Dutch burghers of the old settlements, fat and beer.
loving; opulent Chinese merchants in silk robes and long pig-
tails; military and naval oflicers, all gold lace and clattering
swords; beautiful ladies, swimming about in clouds of silk
and tulle; all these various sights saluted our hero‘seyes as
he entered the room, accompanying old Mr. Earle and his
daughter.

The beautiful Julia looked splendid. As was her custom,
she was attired in white, her curls crowned with camelias.
Her dress was ornamented in a very curious and brilliant
manner, by inclosing about a hundred fire-flies in the trans-
parent gauze of the skirts and corsage, which glittered and
flashed in different points of view, attracting universal atten-
tion to their wearer.

As Claude Peyton passed his arm around the waist of the A

beautiful girl, in the first waltz, he felt a thrill of triumph.
He could see plainly enough that there were flfty fellows .in

the room who envied him. The lady could also feel that,
there were hundreds of girls who were sneering at her. .But,

as envy in small-room is only another sort of flattery, neither
of them felt much grieved about the remarks passing about.
them. '

more than once, Claude Peyton relinquished his partner at

the end of the waltz, and was soon deep in the mysteries of 3
the “ Lanciers ” with another lady. This was a pretty little ,

widow, with immense conversational powers, and she kept
our hero hard at work answering her animated chatter. ,

In the buzz of conversation that floated around in the
pauses of the dance, Peyton was struck, by the frequent

repetition of the name of some Malay potentate, which was .
on everybody’s lips. He had never heard it before, and it, ,

puzzled him.

“ Who is this Bajak Rajah, that every one talks about?” .

he asked of his pretty partner. 5

“ I don‘t know,” she answered; “I never heard the name
before to-night.” _

“ Bajak is the Malay word for pirate," said Claude, mus-
ingly. “ But who ever heard of a pirate, called a Rajah?"

9‘ Oh! I know who you mean now,” said little Mrs. Mil.
lsr. “ You mean that terrible monster the people call
the Red Rajah. I’ve often heard of him. They say he;
bathes in human blood every morning. But I hardly believe
the. ”

“ I suppose not," said Claude, smiling; and the conversa-
tion was turned to something else.

But they could not avoid hearing the same name in every--
body‘s mouth around them, till the widow pettishly ex-
claimed:

“ I wish they would leave that poor man‘s name alone. I
get tired of hearing of his wickednesses.”

Claude danced vigorously till midnight, when he had the
pleasure of escorting Miss Julia Earle to supper, and wait.
ing upon her there.

‘.
As it is against etiquette to dance with the same lady r

 

~14; The Red Rajah.

 

After supper, he began to conclude that he had better rest
awhile, for he was tired out. To that end he strolled into
the card-room adjoining, where all the heavy fathers of the
town were enjoying themselves hugely over their quiet rub-
ber of whist. Here he found old Mr. Earle, red-faced and
jolly as ever, in a quartette of old fogies similar to himself,
discussing some recondite subject in whist, concerning re-
turning the lead of aquecn, when you were strong in trumps,
etc, as he at first imagined.

As soon as the old gentleman saw him, he hailed him.

“ Peyton, my boy, precious ’ot, ain’t it? You know Mr.
McGrowl, don't you? Yes. You’ve seen ’im and Blathers
hofteu at my ’ouse. Hi say, Briggs, you know Mr. Peyton,
don’t ye? Yes, of course.”

Nods and grins from the old fogies. Earle pursues:

“ We was just a-talkin‘, when you come in, of that horful
villain as they call Bajak Rajah. Some calls ’im the Red
Rajah, too. 'E’s been at it again. ’E’s been and gone and
burnt one of Blathers and McGrowl's ships. Blowed if ’e
’asn't. It’s perfeckly ’orrid the way that chap’s a-goin’ on in
these 'ere seas. ” h

“ And who is this Bajak Rajah?" inquired Claude. “ Is
he a noted man? This is the twentieth time l’ve heard of

“ him.”

“ I should think so,” growled old Blathers. “ He’s the
king of'all the pirates in the archipelago, people say. No-
body knows where he lives, or when to expect him. Before
he came around here there were pirates, to be sure. These
seas were never without them. But this fellow seems to
have combined them into a sort of league, and does terrible
mischief. Why, he’s even got the best of a single man-of-
war at times. There was the corvette ‘Vengeance,’ was
blown up by him near two years ago now. An eighteen-
gun‘ corvette, she was. Since that time he’s burnt and pil-
laged over fifty ships of all sizes, and laughs at our navy."

“ But, why don’t they root the fellow out?” inquired
Peyton. “ Surely there are enough ships-of-war in this har-
bor to do it."

“Much ‘the captains care,” interrupted Mr. Duncan Mc-
Growl. “ They're so interested in the China trade, and
making errands to go to Calcutta, that the Red Rajah does
about as he pleases. Besides, it’s a hard thing to catch
him. His fleet of prahus are all flyers. Nothing short of

a steam can catch them, and when they see a steamer they run
into the shadows, and escape to the shore.”

“ But, don’t the steamers send in boats to burn them?"
asked the Virginian. “ It seems to me that they might des-
troy these pirates after awhile. I thought that Rajah Brooke,

_' your English friend, had nearly exterminated the pirates of
the islands?”

“ They’re as bad as ever since he left,” returned Mc-
Growlu “ This devil of a Red Rajah has stirred them up all

‘ over, till it’s not safe to put out a ship for Trepang or Sago
without arming her heavily.”

“ It seems to me,” remarked the American, “ that if I
was a merchant here, I wouldn’t stand that sort of thing
'long."

“ Well, what are we going to do about it?” asked Mr. Earle,
who had been listening to the conversation, puffy and im-
portant.

By this time quite a knot of the solid men of Singapore
was gathered together in the corner of the card-room, discuss.

.ing the misdemeanors of the Red Rajah.

“ Yes, sir,” observed Mr. Peter Briggs to a brother mer-
«ychant; “ It’s a hactual fact. .Thirty thousand pounds ’as
'» our ’ouse lost by that thunderin’ blackguard. Three slrlps
hand'a brig,'all well loaded, and not a penny saved, nor a
man left alive. ”

Another old gentleman had a story of a fleet of Chinese
war-junks dispersed and captured by the terrible Rajah.
The leading mandarins had been held to ransom, and the
city of ‘Oanton had to pay an immense sum of hard silver
dollars to get them back. So the stories went on, each in-
creasing in atrocity. The Red Rajah’s reputation appeared
to have extended far and wide; for his fleet seemed to'be
ubiquitous. One time he would be heard 'of cruising in the
neighborhood of Japan, or intercepting the English clippers
running for Shanghai, with'their bags of silver dollars to
buy tea. The next‘he’ would make his appearance, carrying
terror among the Calcutta Indiamen, or intercepting the out-
ward bound vessels ofl Madras. And wherever he was
seen, it was always the same story. His prahus appeared to
defy pursuit. They were the swiftest craft afloat on the
Seas Even steamers had been left behind him when the
wind was fair.

 

The secret of their speed was a mystery. The common
Malay prahus were by no means so swift. But these vessels
appeared to be built on some peculiar model, unknown to
the natives in general; for no clipper had been able to catch
them, or escape from them. '

Peyton listened to all these wonderful stories with some
impatience. At last he said:

“Gentlemen, I see what is wanting here. It is only a
little unity and courage. If there were enough American
merchants here, this Red Rajah of yours would not have
scourged the seas so long as he has. The government does
n’t seem to care to protect you. Why don’t you protect
yourselves, then? There are plenty of men in this room,
who, if they were to combine together, and fit out a good
steamer, could soon drive this pirate from the seas he has
tyrannized over so long. Why don’t you do it? You are
making immense profits in your trade here, and might be
merchant-princes in a few years. But this audacious pirate
threatens torob you of all you have. Well, then, combine
together. Buy or charter a swift vessel; arm her with can-
non, ay, and mitrailleurs, too. There are three of them in
this very harbor. I‘ll engage to clear out every pirate from
these sees in six weeks, if you’ll give me such a vessel, and
ask nothing for my service.”

When the fiery young man had finished, there was a
silence. Wise old fogies looked solemnly at each other, and
wagged their heads. The idea was too hold to take up its
abode in the British brain all at once.

At last old Blathers grunted out:

“ God bless my soul, young manl Do you know what
you’re talking about? Why, the government wouldn’t allow
us to put to sea.” '

“ The government need not know any thing about it," said
Peyton, quietly. “ You’ve a right to fit out a vessel to pro-
tect your property on sea, just as much as to have watchmen
on land. She may be called a trader, an opium clipper, any
thing, so long as she has the men and arms on board. Take
your time, gentlemen. Call a meeting of your merchants to-
morrow, if you like, and discuss the subject. That’s all I
have to say.”

And he returned to the ball-room, to dance till daylight.

The fruit of the young man’s audacious proposition took
about forty-eight hours to fructify.

0n the third day, at evening, Mr. Earle came home from
Singapore, and found Claude in the parlor, busily engaged
in conversation with the lovely Julia.

“It’s all right, my boy!” burst out the old gentleman,
pulling, as he wiped his streaming face. “They’ve ’ad the
meeting, and they’ve voted a thousand pounds apiece to fit
out the vessel. She’s a-going to be got ready at once, and
they’re hoffering you the command.”

Julia Earle looked disappointed, as Claude jumped to his
feet with a loud hurrah.

“You seem to be very glad to get away from this dull
place,” she said, pettishly.

“ Not a bit of it." he answered. “ But what is life with-
out excitement? I’ll bring you back the Red Rajah’s head,
and Singapore shall sleep tranquil.”

In a few days Claude Peyton made all his preparations.
The governor had been visited by a deputation of the princi-
pal merchants of the place, and readily granted the requisite
authority to cruise against the pirates.

The new and teak-built clipper-brig “Arrow,” of five
hundred tons, fitted with a small auxiliary screw, and hither-
to an opium smuggler, was bought of her owners.

Peyton superintended the armament which consisted of
only three guns. But one of these was a fifty-pound rifle
and the other two were the dreaded Gatling guns. All three
had been sent out as a speculation to sell to the Dutch author
ities of Java. The cautious mynheers had declined to pur-
chase them, and they had lain in the warehouse of Earle,
Hoskins & Co., as unsaleable. ,

But now they appeared destined to take an important part
in the expedition on foot. Peyton had seen the Gatling guns
tried at Washington, and knew what tremendous weapons
they were in the hands of brave men. He felt no doubt of
his ability to fight any fleet of pirates that the Red Rajah
could bring against him.

Fully armed and equipped, with a crew composed of
twenty different nationalities, from the cool, steady American,
down to the quiet, impassive Malay, he sailed out of the har-
bor of Singapore, in the swift brig, new-named, in honor of
her mission, the “ Avenger.”

We must leave him embarked on his mission, to return to

The Red Rajah. 15"

 

 

our much-neglected little heroine, and tell the world what
has become, in all this time, of Marguerite de Favanncs.

CHAPTER X.
THE HAPPY ISLAND.

A YOUNG girl of extraordinary beauty was reclining upon
a gorgeous couch made of ebony and mother-of-pearl, and
covered with China brocade. The couch was set in the
midst of a large Persian carpet, as soft as velvet, and three
inches thick. It lay in the center of a sort of pavilion or
summer-house, framed of bamboo, covered with gilding, and
hung with silk curtains.

Outside the pavilion, nature and art had vied to make the
Surroundings beautiful. Such luxuriancc of trees, fruit,
flowers, and brightly—feathered birds, was never seen outside
of the tropics. We are in an island where winter comes
not; where the sun of the equator makes summer all the
year round. The cocoa blooms perpetually there, and the
king paradise-bird flits among the branches of the spice-trees.

But the eye of the observer would soon leave the sur-
roundings, beautiful as they were, to rest upon the perfect
beauty of the girl in the pavilion.

Slight in figure was the girl, and graceful as an antelope.
The great dark eyes, that looked at you so innocently, were
as beautiful as any gazelle’s. Her hair, which was plaited
in two long braids, was of such extraordinary length as to
touch the ground when she walked. Her face was pale, but
perfect in every feature as that of the Venus of Canova,
with a heavenly purity of expression such as statue never
knew.

Such a girl might have been suddenly dropped by the
fairies to gladden the earth. She seemed too beautiful and
innocent for the world.

She was magnificently dressed, in a gorgeous Oriental
fashion; in cloth of gold sown with seed pearls; and the
marvelous cambric of India, which the natives style “ woven
air,” from its transparency and fineness, half vailed the snowy
bosom. . '

A dark slave girl, richly dressed, was fanning her with a
large screen of paradise-birds’ feathers, and her mistress was
gazing through the parted curtains of the pavilion upon the
moonlit sea, lost in reverie.

Her eyes were fixed upon the long, tapering yards, and
low, dark hulls of a little fleet of prahus, that lay at anchor
in a small bay, surrounded by white beach.

Several islands, their shores clothcd with palm and banana,
down to the water’s edge, were to be seen, dotting the sea
outside. The island appeared to be in the center of a tropi-
cal Archipelago.

Presently the lovely girl spoke. Her voice was very low
and soft, like the cooing of a ring‘dove. She spoke in the
Malay tongue, a marvelously melodious language from her lips.

“Tell me, Sandals, what are they doing in the fleet?
Does the Rajah put forth to-day?”

“The Rajah had some news this morning, lady. Kakoo
came in under all sail; and ever since there has been a bustle
of getting ready. May it please your resplendency, I see
the great Rajah himself coming toward the pavilion, and it
seems that he is coming to speak to you.”

The young lady half raised herself on her arm to look
round. The curtains of the pavilion were looped up all
round so as to admit the air, and the lower part of a man
could be seen, approaching slowly.

“ It is he," murmured the girl, and a pleased smile lighted
up her features. She sat up on the couch and dropped her
little feet over the side on the soft carpet. They were very
little feet, no longer than a child’s, and quite bare. The
elegance and refinement around had failed to accomplish
shoes and stockings.‘ But no one who saw those little
white, blue-veined feet resting there could have carped at
the absence of either. Rather would they have gone down
on their knees to kiss those perfect feet, so slender and high-
arched.

The girl stood up and tripped forward, just as the cur-
tains at the entrance were parted. The lofty plumes of a
warrior’s bright helmet were stooped under the hanging silk,
and the next moment the tall, graceful form of the Red Ra-
jah stood beside Marguerite de Favannes.

Yes. It was our little Marguerite, shot up into maiden-
hood in those two short years under the equator. A white

 

lily grown up among pools of blood; an angel from heaven
among wild, human devils she seemed.

Pure and holy she was still, among those pirates. Those
innocent dark eyes could never have looked out with such a
guileless freedom, had any stain been on their owner's soul.
There she stood beside the pirate chief, her little head just
reaching as high as his heart, and he looking down upon
her, with a sort of protecting and yearning fondness, inex-
pressibly loving.

The Red Rajah was handsomer than ever. He was clad
in a species of chain armor, with undergarments of scarlet
and gold, and glittered all over with costly jewels. His por~
sonal adornments were worth millions of dollars, so large and
splendid were the jewels they bore.

Marguerite greeted him with all the freedom of a child
with a favorite uncle or cousin, and in French.

“And where have you been all the morning, monsienr? I
have not seen you since you bid me good-night last night. and
I am bored to death with the tiresome time I have all alone."

“ I fear you will have to stay alone for a little while

yet, Marguerite," replied the Rajah, with a grave smile; " I

have to leave you this afternoon and depart, to he gOne for
some days, perhaps weeks." I

“ Oh! what shall I do, all alone?" exclaimed Marguerite,
with a pretty little pout; “must I stay in all the time?“

“ Not now,” he answered; “I shall leave ample force to
guard all the islands around here, and you can go out when-
ever you wish."

“But what can I do when you are away?" she asked, with
the charming mom of a bewilderingly pretty, spoilt child; “ I
want you to stay to keep me company. I don’t want you to
go away and leave me. You must stay. There."

“ I wish I could, little humming-bird," said the stately war-
rior, looking down tenderly; “ I wish I could stay here for-

ever with you. But I have enemies, Marguerite—enemies

as many as powerful, and I must be of! to chastise them be-
fore they become too dangerous. " -

“But why can not you make peace with them?" asked
Marguerite, innocently. Child-woman as she was, she had no
idea that the Rajah was a pirate. To her he was only a sort
of sea Bedouin, a warlike sea-king who had many quarrels
with his neighbors. She saw herself surrounded withdux-
uries which were delightful. She. did not know of the ruth-
less plunder and bloodshed by which they were obtained.
The Red Rajah took care not to let her know him as any
thing but a prince.

“Why can not you make peace with them ?" she asked.

“They will have no peace,” he answered, “unless they

can gain leave to burn down all our village here, and to shoot"

me and all my people. They have sent out fleets of junks
and prahus, and several men-of-war of the English and Dutch,

but they have never yet found me. Nor shall they yet. 

soon as I hear that they propose to attact me, I attack them.
And now I hear from Singapore, through one of my agents

there, that certain of the merchants have resolved to sweep the

Red Rajah from the seas. I go to show them their mistake.”

" But why should they wish to harm you?” persisted Marv

guerite. “ Did you ever harm them?”
The Rajah blushed for a moment-—actually blushed at the
home-thrust of the innocent child.-

“Perhaps they think so,” he answered, at last. “My.

fathers, before me, were rajahs of the sea, and claimed toll
and tribute from all who sailed therein. If these Europeans
would pay their toll cheerfully, I would not harm them; but
they must needs fight; and if they get the worst of it it is no
fault of mine. But come, Marguerite. It is time I was go-
ing now. When I am away, remember that every thing on
this island is yours. Your favorite horse, Mahlam, is ready
for your use, with your dog and falcons, if you wish to
hunt. -I leave behind me a swift prahu, under Kakoo,
which will take you where you please among the islands.
Keep up a good heart till I return, when I will tell you all
about the brave fellows who came out to sweep the Red
Rajah from the seas, and how they did it.”

As he spoke be bent his lofty head to brush the pure-white

forehead with his long mustache.

Marguerite put her white arms around his neck, as frankly
as a child, but without exhibiting very much sorrow.

“ Good-by," she said, brightly. “ Be back soon. It will
be very triers here when you are away.”

“ Good-by, Marguerite,” he returned, holding her of! for a
few moments to look at her with great tenderness.|

The girl returned the look with a smile. Then the Rajah
drew her to him once more, kissed her forehead twice, and

-, urn-fi'T;

16 V The Red Rajah.

 

 

so left the tent abruptly. As he went, he heaved a deep
sigh, and as he walked down to the boat, his head, usually
so erect and proud, was sunk upon his breast in meditation.

Arrived 'at the little port, howcyer, he flung off his reverie
at once, and entered into the business before him with his
whole heart.

The pirate fleet was full of men, and bustle and hurry was
the order of the day. Water bamboos were being hoisted
aboard, provisions being packed, guns burnished, muskets,
rifles and pistols polished bright. Half-naked Dyaks were
sharpening lance-heads and war-axes; stately Malays poisoning
their deadly krisses. When the Rajah appeared, a very few
minutes sufiiced to complete all the preparations for sea. Ma-
lay prahus, and especially those of the pirates, are got ready
at short notice.

Inside of ten minutes the huge mat sails were hoisted, and
swelling in the afternoon breeze. With a velocity that
seemed incredible, in so light a wind, one after the other, the
pirate prahus skimmed over the faintly-heaving sea, and ran
off, wing-and-wing, like a flock of sea-gulls.

Marguerite had inserted her little feet in a pair of velvet
slippers, to walk abroad, by this time. She stood on the green
slope that led down from the pavilion to the beach, watch-
ing the sea-rovers’ departure. What a pretty sight she
thought it; and how much prettier the sight of herself stand-

ing watching!

She stood there, watching the rapid gliding of the brown
lateen sails, as the little fleet stood off in single file, the large
prahu of the Red Rajah at the head, with the scarlet flag flut-
tering at its peak. At last the intervening islands shut out
the view, as one after another of the swift vessels rounded it,
and disappeared. ‘

Then Marguerite walked slowly back to her pavilion, think-

ing within herself what she should do to amuse herself. She
was surrounded by obsequious slaves, all ready to do her

bidding, and vie with each other to please her.

Sandals first suggested a ride, and her mistress was gra-
ciously pleased to assent. So the horses were brought up,

\ slight-limbed, graceful creatures, with gorgeous saddles and
trappings from Japan.

The beautiful Marguerite had learned to ride as well as a
man, and in the same style. The loose trowsers of her dress
were,‘indeed, well adapted for such a mode of exercise.

Light as a feather, she sprung into her seat, and calling
for her favorite falcon, galloped away to the interior of the
island, followed by half a dozen of her attendants.

Marguerite was passionately fond of riding and fal-
conry. '

The island on which she was, the central stronghold of the
Red Rajah, was just the size for a convenient ride, measuring
about twelve miles across. It was diversified with lofty
rounded hills, and deep valleys, fl‘l of small game; and on
the north side it ended in a marsh, which was full of water-
fowl.

Here Marguerite was fond of hawking, and toward it
she directed her charger’s steps, anticipating sport. Nor
was she disappointed. She was able to fly her little falcon
successfully at several teal and small ducks, and enjoyed

, beautiful sport. There is something so peculiarly fascinating
.n the institution of falconry, that there is no wonder that
our heroine was detained watching her . falcon till very near
sunset.

At last, after a tough battle in the clouds between the
plucky little falcon and a duck twice his size, ending in
the death of the "latter, struck through the brain by the
sharp talons of “ Fire-eyes,” the young lady turned her horse,
and rode home, leaving her falconer to hood the little servant
of her pleasure.

When she had climbed the hill, behind which her present
home lay, she involuntarily drew the bridle to look behind
her at the sea.

' A broad path of gold lay, across it, skirting the line of
shore, and tipping every wave with fiery sparkles. Mar-
guerite started, as she looked. About three miles from the
island was a large brig, threading her way among the islets,
whose cloud of snowy canvas appeared to be too large
for the dark hull beneath. The stranger was coming as
straight on as could he, apparently without any notion of
danger. '

Marguerite was astounded. She had not seen a vessel be-
longing to any civilized power ever since she had been on
the island. Nothing but the piratical prahus, with their out-
landish rig, had met her eyes.

At once it crossed her mind that they must be the Rajah’s

e

 

enemies come after him. What else could a vessel be doing
there among those islands, where every stone concealed an
enemy at ordinary times?

But the stranger appeared to have no fears, for he held
on his course unflinchingly, till he had rounded a mountain-
ous island, about a mile further on, when the wood-covered
eminence concealed his sails from her view.

Marguerite sat on her horse, looking at the spot where
the brig had vanished, till she was recalled to herself by her
attendants riding up with the falcon. They had not seen
the strange vessel, and she forbore to say any thing about
it. She knew that in a very few hours the whole piratical
population of the islands would be roused to attack the
intruder, if seen by any of them. She did not wish to be
accessory to the attack, herself. So she turned her horse
and galloped back to the port, where lay the swift prahu
under Kakoo’s orders. She found every thing quiet. Noth-
ing had been seen by any one there, and the shades of night
were closing in. Marguerite retired to rest, full of conflict-
ing thoughts. She had been perfectly happy while on the
island, treated like a queen, and yet she felt now as if she
wanted to escape—a certain longing to be free, to see
civilization once more, took hold of her, and with them
the remembrance of the handsome Monsieur Claude, who
“ used to be so kind to her when she was a child,” she said to
herself. ,

When she was a child! Why she was so still, in all but
age and physical development. And the sight of the strange
brig in a moment undid all the work of the Red Rajah, who
had been slowly winning her heart to himself, with unex-
ampled delicacy and kindness. The child forgot every thing
in a moment, but her old friend Claude, and she felt cer-
tain that he was in that vessel coming to rescue her. “ He
could do any thing,” thought Marguerite.

 

CHAPTER XI.
swarms a morass.

Museum had let her book drop on her lap, and was
gazing dreamily out into the night. She was all alone.
Presently she began to talk to herself.

“ It must have been him,” she murmured; “ who else
would come here among these wild people? Oh! my God!
take care of Monsieur Claude, and bring him here quick to
me. He was so kind to poor Marguerite long, long ago, when
the savages killed poor, poor papa. 0h! Mon Dieul send him
to me quickly, for I want to go away. And yet the Rajah
has been very kind to me. Why should I wish to leave
him? Yes. But Monsieur Claude was papa’s friend, and I
did love him so. He was so kind to Marguerite!”

“ Marguerite l"

The word came like an echo to her speech. For a mo-
ment she thought it was. She laughed.

“ What a funny echo! How did I never hear it be
fore t”

Then she paused and listened.

Again came the voice, soft and low.

“ Marguerite.”

The girl sprung up erect in a moment, her eyes dilated,
her head on one side to catchthe sound. She stood the pic-
ture of intense attention.

“ Marguerite l”

A third time came the voice.

There was no more doubt now. The child-woman threw
up her eyes to heaven with delight, clasped her hands and fal-
tered out:

“ 0h! Grand Dieu ! O'eat luff"

Claude himself pushed aside the curtains and entered the
pavilion, and the next instant the lost Marguerite was found
again—found and weeping on his bosom.

“ 0h, “Monsieur Claude!” she was saying; “ I knew you
would come. I knew you would come at last. Oh! I am
so glad. And you have come to take me to my aunt Eulalie,
at Pondicherry—have you not? 0h! Monsieur Claude! was
it not horrid of the wicked savages to kill poor papa? And
our poor old Marie has died since; soon after we came here.
She was buried close by. And the Rajah has been so kind
to me, since he rescued me from those wicked savages. He
has made me the princess OVer all these islands when he is
away, and my own papa could not have been kinder. And

* It is he.

The Red Raj ah. ' 1'7

 

 

yet, do you know, Monsieur Claude, he will not tell me his
name. I call him Rajah, and he tells me, if I want another
name, to call him Sidah Sapuloh. But that only means
‘ ten tongues,’ you know. 0h! Monsieur Claude! I’ve
learned ever so much since you used to teach me in the poor
old Philomele."

Thus the glad child ran on, delighted to see her old friend
once more. Claude, for his part, was in a whirl of wonder
and admiration. Marguerite was grown so beautiful, so win-
ning, so immensely changed from the quiet, slender child
she had been when he saw her last. Slender and small she
was still, but so beautifully rounded, with a shape that a
sculptor might have modeled for Titania. The rough wan-
derer felt a strange rising at his heart, when he found this
lovely little being nestling so confidingly in his arms.

She was so pretty and so innocent, a woman in appearance,
an innocent child in her manner. Presently she began to
ask him how he came to find her out, and where he got his
vessel. Then he learned for the first time that she had seen
him from the top of the hill, and that hers had been the form
of the distant horsewoman he had seen.

He told her in a fewwords that he had been cruising in
the neighborhood in search of pirates, and had. come there
by accident.

“ Pirates!” she exclaimed; “but there are no pirates here.
My lord, the Red Rajah, rules over all these islands, and he is
no pirate. He has many enemies, he tells me.”

“He has,” said Peyton, dryly; “but did it never strike
you that a man whose hand is against every man, might have
every man’s hand against him; and so be a pirate?”

“ I don’t know,” said Marguerite; “ but if he is a pirate,
he has been as kind to me as an honest man, and never gave
me cause to regret being in his power.”

“Tell me, Marguerite, who is this Red Rajah, that I have
heard of so often as the scourge of the Archipelago? You
have known him. Who is he?” asked Claude, with interest.

“I know no more than you,” she answered; “ sometimes
he tells me he is a Turk, an Egyptian, an Armenian, who has
studied in Paris. He talks French as well as I do. But I
end in saying that I can not tell, for every day he appears
different. He may be a Jew, perhaps. Papa told me they
go everywhere.” ,

“ Whoever he is, you have saved his life,” answered Claude;
“ but you must not stay another hour in his power. Where
is he now i"

“ He went away to the south, with all his fleet, this very
day,” she answered; “news came from Singapore that his
enemies were afoot, and the Rajah sailed to pursue them.”

“ It was me he was after,” said the Virginian, laughing.
“ Well, if 'he catches me to the south, it will be funny.
Now, Marguerite. will you go with me?”

“Surely I will,” said “the girl; “ but why go now? I
have power over all this island. Every one here obeys my
will. To-morrow morning we will sail away quietly from
here, and leave word for my lord, the Rajah, that we are gone.
Then he can not say that his Marguerite deceived him.”

“ But the people here will not let you depart, foolish
child,” said Claude, impatiently. “ You are deceived in them.
As long as you do not try to leave, they will obey you, but
they will not let you go. I tell you, child, they are pirates.
This mysterious Red Rajah, whom no one knows, is the chief
of all the pirates of the Archipelago. If you wait till morn-
ing, there will be blood shed. ”

But the girl would not be persuaded. Every soul on the
island had bowed before her, and why should they now dis-
obey her? Claude was reluctantly forced to yield to her
arguments, and return to his vessel. He reached the boat
waiting for him, without molestation, and was rowed of! to

' the brig, where he turned in, sulkily enough.

The brig’s masts ware quite invisible from the shore, being
hidden behind a rocky islet. In the morning Claude was
hidden among the trees on the summit of the islet, watching
the shore and the village. He saw a few women come out
of) th: houses first, and then the children began to toddle
a on.

At last the crew of the prahu ware seen to stir, and Claude
perceived that there were not more than twenty able-bodied
men in prahu and village.

He waited impatiently for some signs of Marguerite’s pre-
sence. He had resolved that he would carry her off at any
risk, and began to doubt very seriously whether he ought not

’ to bombard the village at once.

But just as his patience was giving way, he saw the well-
known figure, glittering and bright with jewels, tripping out
of the gilded pavilion.

 

 

Behind the pavilion, and higher up the hill, were the lofty
tOWers of the Rajah's palace, hidden among clustering thickets
of roses. He saw the girl go toward this fairy-like structure,
which he now noticed for the first time. -

The light, tough bamboo had been utilized here to the last
extent of which it Was capable, to make a lofty palace as
light as a dream.

Tali minarets, airy galleries, cool piazzas, and broad,
spacious halls, were hidden away among the trees and flowers,
so that you failed to see them at first. When they were
noticed, the effect was wonderfully airy and picturesque.

Peyton saw the island princess going toward this palace.
She was soon surrounded by crowds of slaves, to whom she
appeared to be giving orders. After this, she turned round,
and descended to the little village.

Claude could see the women and children salaaming, as
she passed. The child had not deceived him. She seemed
to be the queen of the pirates, for they bowed before her.
She came to the jetty, and all the men of the prahu pros-

‘rated themselves before her.
She appeared to be givmg them some orders, for they be-

gan to bustle about, and get the vessel’s sails out of the
clumsy gaskets they were secured with. Pretty soon down

' came a procession of servants from the palace, each loaded

with a bundle, with which they went on board.

Peyton watched the proceedings with wonder, along with
Mr. Rose, mate of the brig.

“ What the dance is the little thing about?” ejaculated Rose.
“ Eh, by Jove, captain! She’s going to put to sea in that
queer-looking craft, there, I verily believe. And if she does,
we shall never catch her."

Peyton did not answer for a moment. He was thinking
of what could the girl he doing. At last he slapped his knee
with a loud exclamation.

“ I have it I" he cried. “ Rose, did you ever read Shake-
pears?”

“ I should rather think so.”

“ Do you remember when Jessica runs away with Lorenzo,

what she does besides?”

“ Takes all old Shylock’s money. to be sure. And serve
him right, too, the old hunks."

“ That‘s it, Rose. But I tell you what, I’m getting ner-
vous about this business. Those Malay devils will never let
her take them of! in that prahu. ,How she has fooled them
so far is more than I can tell."

“ Well, captain,"said Rose, quietly; “ all you have to do

‘ is to move out, and support her, with the long-boat. I'll

get up steam, and follow her in a jiffy.”

“A good idea, Rose," said the Virginian, delighted.
“We’ll put it into execution at once.”

The long-boat still lay alongside, and the wild-looking

‘ Malay crew leaped into it in a moment.

Peyton thought to himself, as he surveyed them, that it
might be hard to tell which side looked most piraticai.
He pulled to the edge of the island, around whose corner

' he watched carefully for some minutes. The last of the

train of servants had just deposited his bundle in the prahu,
and was returning up the hill. The slight, glittering figure
of Marguerite was standing on the pier-head, directing every-

n .
thtghen everybody’s attention was busily engmsed with his
work, the long-boat suddenly shot out from the shelter of
the island, and pulled toward the prahu.

They had crossed about half the distance, when a loud
yell from the Malay pirates warned them that they were dis-
covered. The rowers pulled as hard 'as they could, and were
already near the pirates when the latter scattered in all di-
rections, and dived into the hold.

In a moment more they came pouring up, gun in hand,
and opened a scattering fire on the boat.

Peyton was kneeling in the bow beside his murderous
mitrailleur, when the first bullets began to whiz. He saw
Marguerite run away into the village before he returned a
shot.

Then, taking his station at about a hundred yards from
the prahu, he ordered his men to stop rowing. Training his
gun to sweep the pirate‘s deck, he commenced to turn the
crank.

No one who has not seen the American mitrailleur at
work can form an idea of the horrible effects of its flre.

An incessant stream of fire and smoke, with a rattling re-
petition of cracks, as if a regiment were file-firing, burst from
the strange-looking machine. A hail of bullets, like a storm,
came driving over the pirate’s deck, clearing it of foes in a
moment. It seemed but an instant before they were yelling

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4:...

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1:13: 

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18 '

The Red Raj ah.

 

 

and shooting. Now they had disappeared, struck down in
an instant by the leaden rain, mechanically and pitilcssly w
curate.

With a yell of triumph the Malays resumed their oars,
and dashediforward, boarding the prahu in short order.

When they reached her deck it was untenanted, save by
shattered corpses and mutilated men, writhing and groaning.
Claude leaped aboard, and then calling on his men to follow,
dashed on to the pier, and ran up the street of the village,
now all alive with fleeing women and children.

“ Marguerite!" he shouted. “ Marguerite!”

A. light figure came running from between the houses, and
he clasped her in his arms.

“ Oh! how frightened I am!” she exclaimed. . “Why did . .

you do this? I told you not to."

“ Never mind now," he answered; “we have no time to
lose, for every inmate of these accursed islands will be up
and after us, before three hours are over. Come.”

He hurried her on board the prahu, which had been so
unceremoniously 'clearcd, and placed her in the cabin.

“Stay there till I tell you all’s safe,” he said, hurriedly,
and went outside. He found his boat’s crew employed in
true Malay fashion, reckless of life. They were pitching
overboard the wounded as well as dead pirates. So many
of the Malays had suffered in former times from the cruelty
6f the Red 'anah and his men that Peyton was hardly sur-
prised at their vindictiveness. But they had no time to lose.
He knew that his enemies were many and, cruel. The
Avenger had got in her anchor, and was steaming slowly up
and down outside.

Claude had resolved to carry 01f the prahu with him, and
make for Singapore.

 

At sunset, the same evening, the dark lateen sails of the
foremost of a line of prahus hove in sight. It was the Red
Rajah, returning from his fruitless search. The first object
he saw was the smoke of his own burning palace.

 

CHAPTER .XII.
non enneomo nonnrqmrz.

Jon}: EARLE, Esqumn, head of the Singapore branch, of
the house of Earle, Hoskins & 00., sat in his. counting-room
on a Monday morning. The counting~room.was a long,
dark apartment, situated in the basement-story of the im-
mense warehouses of the firm. . a ,

Being partly underground, and surrounded‘by very thick
walls, this room was quite delightful in its coolness. What
in our climate would have been a gloomy dungeon, under
the equator, or nearly so, became a pleasant retreat.

Mr. Earle sat in a huge cane rocker, an importation from

the San Francisco branch of the house (under Rufus B. Hos-.V

kins’ superintendence.)

He was examining an enormous ledger, which lay on ,his
knees, and whose pages appeared to interest him far more
than the last new novel would have pleased his daughter.

“E. H. & Co., Bankers, Brokers, and Merchants,” was

written or printed on the back of a row of books,rthat ..
showed their gilded titles in goodly numbers, from the shelves...

of the open safe that stood before Mr. Earle.

“ H’ml” muttered the old gentleman, as he turned over
the leaves; “it ain't so very bad for a year’s business. Them
blarsted Chinese may kick up all the bobbery they please
about hopium, but it’s a money-making trade. ’Ow I would
like to do the ’ole of it. H’ml Hindigo. Thirty-five car-
goes. That ain’t bad for asingle ’ouse. But then one can't
make sich money at that as they used to. More’s the pity.
’Backer. That’s the boy for me! ’Ow many ’undredweight
’ave I sold of that ’ere stuff in hold Hingland. They may
call it cabbage, as much as they please, but I notices they
smokes the ‘real Manilla cheroots,’ hall over Hindia. And
wot’s more, we’re the lads as sells ’em. What’s this ’erel'
Caballero, Rodriquez & Co.'s account. That’s pretty ’eavy.
But then we makes so much out of them, that we can aiford
to pay it. Cheroots cost us about a ’a’penny, and we sells
’em in Calcutta for flppence, Bombay sixpence, and a shillin’
in Lunnon. Wish I did about ten million a year in tobaeker,
instead of a few ’undred thousands. ’Ellol Wot’s the mat-
ter, ’Ardy?"

This query was addressed to his book-keeper, Mr. Hardy,
who entered from the outer store, bearing a small card.

 

a“ A Spanish gentleman wants to see you, sir."

Mr. Earle inspected the card very carefully through a his
glasses. It was a very tiny card, and the name was engraved
in‘such a fine Italian hand as to be almost invisible.- Mr.
Earle puzzled over it in vain, till his clerk, with younger
eyes, came to his help.

“ Why the doose can‘t the blasted-foreigner 'ave his name
printed plain?" grumbled the merchant. “Wéll, ’Ardy, ‘oe.
is it?”

“ DON Gnnoonro RonaIQUnz,” read out Hardy, slowly.

“ Ehl God bless my soull You don’t say so?” exclaimed.-
Mr. Earle, hurriedly jumping up to put away his ledger..
“ Why, ’Ardy, ’e’s the ’ead of the ’ouse of Caballero, Rodrl--
quez & 00., of Manilla. Old Caballero’s dead, but they keep'
’is name hup still. Show ’im in, ’Ardy—show ’im in. That.
feller grows more ’backer, and sugar, and ’emp, than any‘
one I know. Show ’im in, ’Ardy, and, mind you, be horful‘:
civil. We howe ’is ’ouse a pile of money."

Hardy disappeared, and Mr. Earle bustled about the dingy“
oiflee, making things straight for his respected visitor. He.
shut the safe, and drew up a second rocking-chair close to a.
large table, strewed with books, bills of lading, and loose;
letters.

In a few minutes more Hardy entered, ushering in a talll
gentleman, whom he announced as “Don Gregorio Rodri--
quez."

Mr. Earle rushed forward with overpowering hospitality.

“My dear Don Gregorio, so ’appy to see you. ’Ardy,',
’and a chair to Don Gregorio. A hold friend of our ’ouse,
like you, is always welcome. ’Ardy, tell ’em to send int
some of them hiced Yankee drinks at once. My dear Dom
Gregorio, ’ow ’appy I am to see you."

The tall gentleman had allowed his hand to rest in that of?
the merchant, quite impassively. He now spoke in a sin‘?

‘gularly soft and deep voice, with a very marked foreign ac'r

cent.

“ T’ank you, sare, I am afraid I s’all put you to so mosh
trouble. Pray do not discommode yourself.”

“ No trouble at all, sir,” responded the hospitable Earle
“ ’Urry upl ’Ardyl Be‘ hofi.”

Hardy vanished; and‘er. Earle finally got his visitor set
tied in one of the American rockers, near the window, when
he could look'at him.

Don Gregorio Rodriquez was about as strong a contrast to
the plethoric, mercantile Earle, as you could imagine. Ho
didnot look the least likes. merchant. ' '

He was exceedingly tall, and rather slightly built, but as

graceful in‘ every movement as a panther. His face was
strikingly-handsome, although nearly as brown as an In?
dei: eyes were dark and luminous, and his short, curling
hair and drooping mustache were as black as the raven’s'
wmg.. .
Don Gregorio did. not appear to feel the heat in the slight-
est. He was dressed in a full suit of closely-fitting black,
the frock buttoned across. The only summery thing about
the, don was his broad-brimmedr Panama hat, which Mr;
Earle, learned. in such matters,,mentally pronounced to be
“worth five hundred dollars, if a cent.”

The Englishman’s eyes were also attracted to the studs
glittering. in the immaculate shirt-front of the Spanish gentle-
man... Each of them was a solitaire diamond, as large as a
pea.

“Worth'rten thousand pounds apiece, I’ll bet,” mentally
ejaculated Mr. Earle, as he gazed.

The Spanish gentleman opened the conversation, as he lay
back in the cool chair, languid and handsome.

“Do you object to de smoking of one leetle cheroot on
your ofleece, Senor Earle?" he asked, languidly.

“Not in the least, don—not in the least,” blurted out the
pufliy merchant. “Smoke, by all means. We know what
kind of cheroots you ’ave in your 'ouse. Eh, don?” And.
Mr. Earle chuckled obsequiously.

Don Gregorio produced from his breast-pocket a small-
case of exquisite beauty, so thickly incrusted with jewels.
that old Earle could not restrain a cry of admiration.

“ My! Ain’t that ’andsome?”

The Spaniard smiled.

“ You like it? A mere trifle, Mr. Earle. I like to haw
de apparatus prettee. Veel you onore me?"

And he extended the case to the old merchant, who softly
extracted a small cheroot from it, as if he were afraid to in.-
jure it. Don Gregorio placed another of the cheroots be-
neath the long, silky mustache that drooped down below his»

The Red Raj ah.

19

 

 

chin so gracefully. He replaced the case in his pocket, and
arrested Mr. Earle with a gesture, as he was rising.

“ Do not trouble yoursailf to get de matches, senor, I beg
of you. I alvays carree de apparatus for de fire in mai po-
kett.” ‘

And the impassive Spaniard drew from his pocket a. tidy .

match-safe, made of gold, as far as you could see for the
diamonds that incrusted it.

“ Feuga, senor,” he said, quietly; “ ahl pardon. I forget
maiself, I speak Espanol. Take eet."

And he struck a light from a little wax match and lighted
his cheroot, first handing the light to the other.

Mr. Earle worshiped wealth. If Don Gregorio had or-
dered him to black his boots, I believe he would have done
it. To be on terms of such easy familiarity with this
princely-looking stranger perfectly intoxicated the old ple-
beian. He sat, enjoying the fragrance of the best Manilla
he had ever smoked, and mentally adoring the Spaniard, till
bHlardy re-entered, with a boy bearing a salver of sherry-cob-

ers.

Don Gregorio was graciously pleased to imbibe a cobbler
and smile approvingly. Then Mr. Earle opened the conver-
sation with a nervous laugh. ,

“I suppose, ha! ha! Don Gregorio, that your visit ’ere is
partly on account of the balance owing your ’ouse, eh? It’s
pretty ’eavy this year, I know; but, thank ’Eaveu, Earle,
‘Oskins & Co. ain’t obliged to ask credit for their balances.
’Ow will you ’ave it?”

The fact was, that Mr. Earle was at the time a little
pinched for ready money, and as the balance due Caballero,
Rodriquez do Co. was for a whole year’s sales, amounting to
several cargoes of tobacco, he hated desperately to pay it.

Don Gregorio waved a slender hand daintily. Mr. Earle
saw the sparkle of a single diamond on the little finger.

“ Do not trouble yourself, senor,” he said, languidly. “I

_ do not come down on de business. I leave all dat to my
tenedm' do Moron—pardon, my book-keepair. He veel make
de draft, I suppose, in de usual mannair. I coom on de
pleasure. I have not been out from Manilla for many years.
I coom to see de great world once more; and I call first on
(is old house dat have do our beez-nees for so long.”

Mr. Earle seized the other’s hand with effusion.

“You do me honor, Don Gregorio,” he said, “and I’m
'artily glad to see you. You mustn’t think of stoppin’ in
these ’ere beastly ’otels in the town. They ain‘t fit to put a
’0g in. You must come with me to my'little place in the
country, and be comfortable. ’Tain’t a rich palace like you
live in, Don Gregorio, I know; but I can promise you a
’arty welcome and a pretty fair dinner, if I do say it, as
shouldn’t.”

The don smiled blandly.

‘f I shall be very happy, senor,” he answered; “but I am
not reduc-ed to de hotels for my quar-tairs. I did come in
my own prahu from Manilla. She is my—vot you call yacht,
I think.” .

“And did you really sail all the way here in a native
prahu?” asked Mr. Earle, in astonishment.

‘ “‘IAu‘d why not, senor? I have make her under my own
supair-veesion, and she is swift as do very wind.”

“She. need be swift to sail through the Sooloo Sea,” re-
marked the merchant; “ for that unhung villain, the Red Ra-
jah, scours it with a fleet of fiyers."

A sweet smile lifted the center of Don Gregorio’s long
mustache, ‘ju st showing a glimpse of pearly-white teeth.

“He is some great pirate, den, dis Red Rajah,” he said.
“'I hear some people speak of heem before.”

“I should think they would,” returned Earle, testily.
“ ’E ought to be.’.ung by the ’eels over' a ’ot fire, ’e ought.
The thousands of pounds as our ’ouse, and hother ’ouses in
this ’ere' place, ’as lost, is incredible, owin’ to that werry
willain. But we smoked ’im at last, ’ang ’iml”

The Spaniard blew a ring of smoke from his lips, and in-
quired:

“ Indeed? I am'so ignorant of all dis, you know. You ‘
veel pardon me for asking, how did you smoke am, as you
call est?” M ‘

“ All of us merchants as ’ad lost by ’im, we chartered a
brig and sent ’era-cruisin’ after ’im. A young Yankee feller
took the command, and we gave ’im some of them ’undred-
shooters the Yankees is so proud of—them Gatling guns.
’Oskins, of our ’ouse, consigned ’em ’ere, but Lor’ bless you,,
we couldn’t sell ’em. They cooked the Rajah’s goose,
though, rang rim!" ,

 

 

“ And deed you hear, den, dat dis Red Rajah was
keeled?" asked the Spaniard, in a tone of languid interest.

“Not exactly killed," admitted Earle; “ but the Avenger
found out his favorite 'aunt, burnt his ’ouse over the ’eads

of the slaves as ’e left be’ind, and stole a lot of ’is treasures.
And that ain’t the best of it, neither. There's a ’ole squad~
ron of men-o’-war in the ’arbor now, as is goin’ to start for
them hislands to-morrow, and clear hout hevery pirate of the
’ole lot." ,

“Dat eez ver’ good néws,” said Don Gregorio, smiling;
“ what pity is it dat Senor Colorado Rajah cannot be in-
formed of do amiable in-ten-tions of hecz friends at Singa-
porel How he would t’ank zeml”

And the handsome Rodriquez laughed, in a low, musical
tone.

“ Veel you not take anoder cheroot?" he added; “ dey are
only made of do very best tobacco on our planta-tion. We
keep de one field dat grow dem for our own private
smokeeng. A light! Certainlee.”

After a few moments’ smoking, Don Gregorio inquired:

“ And dis Red Rajah—you call heem—was anytceng else
brought away from his place? Was act only his money dey
stole?"

“ N 0 one stole anything, Don Gregorio," said the mer-
chant, testily; “it’s no stealing to take from a pirate, is it?"

“Pardon, senor," said the Spaniard, blandly; “I do not
speak (is Eengleesh very well. I meestake de word. But
did dey take anything else but money?"

Mr. Earle chuckled and rubbed his hands.

“ That’s the best of it, Dan Gregorio! That’s the best of
it! You must know that there was a little French girl on
the hisland, whom the Rajah ’ad saved from a wreck, once
on a time. A most romantic story she ’ad. Well, it so ’ap-
pened that our. young Yankee ’ad been on the same vessel
once, with the little girl. And so she knew ’im, and ran
away with ‘im. The Rajah must ’a’ been awful fond of ’er.
She was dressed like a princess, and brought away enough
valuables of her hown to be worth ten thousand pounds."

I“ Indeed?” was all Don Gregorio said.

“And all that was ’er hown, as the Rajah ’ad given ’er.,
She wouldn’t take anything else but ’er hown.”

“She was a dear, good little girl," remarked the don.

“A little fool, I call ‘er.” said the merchant. “Wasn’t
’e a robber and a pirate? She bought to ’a taken hall she
could. I would”,

“ I do not doubt eet,” said Don Gregorio, quietly.

“But the crew of the brig wasn’t so doosed honest,” old
Earle continued. “They cleaned out heverything on the
hisland they could lay their ‘ands on, and then put a match
to my lord’s palace. They couldn’t find where ’e’d ’id ’is
gold, but they’ll ’ave a hopportunity when the squadron sails
to-morrer. If they don’t ’unt up some of the gold of them
hislands, it'll be because it ain’t there."

The Spaniard laughed again.

“ Probables,” he said. “ Porgue no em: on case—ah! par-
don! I forgot again. Because it shall no’ be in do ha-oose.
Si. Si.”

Mr. Earle went on with his story.

“ They’ve brought ’er to my ’ouse now, and she and Julia
—that's my daughter, don—are as thick as pickpockets.
She’s a pretty child, but I must say, not ’arf as ‘andsome as,
my Julia. You shall see ’er tonight, Don Gregorio. You‘ll
sleep at my ’ouse, won’t you?” '

“With do great plea-sure,” replied the Spaniard “ I
weel but send word to my vessel and have my banter—-
oh! my tronks I mean—sent to your house. But, tell me”
senor, shall I see does charming leetle maiden at your
ha—ooset" _ ‘ ,.

“ Certain, don. 1’11 introduce you to her and to my Julia,
too, Don Gregorio.”

“ Mil Grecian,” returned the other, somewhat absently.

[He smoked on silently for some minutes. Presently he
inquired:
- “ At what hour do you drive home?”

“ At two o’clock, Don Gregorio. Where shall I ’ave the
pleasure of callin’ for you?"

“ At the dock where do yacht lies,” said the Spaniard, ris-
ing. “ I salute you, senor, and kiss your hands. I will be
quite readee den.”

In a few moments more the tall, elegant-looking Spanish
millionaire was walking out through the spacious warehouse,
buttoning one glove with easy negligence, and humming an
air from the opera of Fm Diavolo. ' ‘

r.  he;

a." as,

 .~

“wk-9.4:.

20  The Red Rajah.

 

 

Mr. Earle saw his lofty figure swing along the street to-
ward the quay, only a hundred yards off. The long, slen-
der, tapering yards of a prahu betokened Don Gregorio’s
“ queer taste in yachts,” as the merchant thought.

But when he came down to see her, in the afternoon, he
changed his opinions. Don Gregorio’s yacht was the most
perfect specimen of marine luxury and beauty he had ever
seen. Being formed of two similar shells or canoes, secured
to each other by powerful beams, she possessed all the keen
swiftness of outline of the prahu’ captured from the pirate
chief so recently.

But, the luxury of her appointments, all blazing with
gold, and the fact of her having white sails of the finest
duck, sufficiently marked the difference between the pirate’s
craft and the millionaire’s yacht. The crew were attired in
Malay fashion, but in dark-blue China silk, and the name
BONITA was worked in gold across the breasts of their shirts.
The captured pirate’s prahu, black and dingy looking, lay not
far ofi—a strange contrast to the “Bonita.”

Beyond her again was the Avenger, lying close under the
guns of several frigates and steamers, whose “ bluepeters,”
flying at the fore, announced them to be ready for sea. It
was the squadron to chase the pirates.

Don Gregorio laughed when Mr. Earle pointed it out to him.

CHAPTER XIII.
run Lnrrnn.

Wm Don Gregorio had mounted into the buggy in which
Mr. Earle was driving, the latter gave some directions to his
porter, who accompanied him. The baggage of the Spanish
gentleman was put on a light cart, and taken off to the
merchant's house, while the buggy itself took a more circuit-
ous route. v

Mr. Earle was anxious to show the millionaire all the
points of interest in and about Singapore; and it was late in
the afternoon when they reached the “ Palms,” as Mr. Earle
styled his villa.

During the ride, Don Gregorio manifested quite a lively
interest in the story of the little cast-away, Marguerite de Fa-
vannes. When he heard her name, he suddenly remembered
that he was well acquainted with her aunt in Pondicherry.

“ I do know Madame de Choiseul very well,” he said.
“ I have a letter from her to myself, in which she speak of
her Marguerite, ‘ 8a niece perdue' she call her. I veel send
eet up to her, senor, weeth your kind permission, when we get
to de ha-oose."

And accordingly, 3. letter, inclosed in one of Mr. Earle’s
envelopes, and addressed, in a running Italian hand, to
“ Mademoiselle de Favannes" was taken up to the room,
where our little Marguerite was just awaking from her after-
noon siesta.

The Spanish gentleman retired to his own apartment, to
which he was shown by his host, to divest himself of the
dust of travel.

As soon as he was left alone, he went to the open win-
dow, and sat down behind the Venetians, where he listened
intently. The next room to his own, his host told him, was
occupied by the distressed damsel. Presently he heard a
tap at the door of that room, and a sweet voice from within
inquired;

“Qu’est cequa c’est?” (What is it?)

Then there was the opening of a door, and the voice of
the little Malay page:

“ A letter for misses. ”

“ Merci,” he heard, and then the door closed.

“ She has it,” muttered Don Gregorio, in English, without
a trace of the accent he had assumed before.

Then he rose, and walked noisily about the room, as if to
let every one know he was there, and finally sat down to un-
pack his trunk. ,

Marguerite, in the next room, with the letter in her hand,
was only half awake. She heard the noise, and knew that a
stranger was there, but had not opened her letter yet. Sud-
denly she heard a mellow baritone voice, remarkably sweet
in its tones, singing an air that she well knew.

It was the Girondin hymn. “ Manner pour ht patria.”

Marguerite started when she heard that voice. She knew
it well. In an instant she was awake, and began tearing
open the letter in her hand.

It ran thus: ‘

 

“MARGUEBITE—-Y0u have left me. I know not whether
it was willingly or not. 1 came back to my own happy island,
to find Marguerite gone, my people corpses, men, women,
and children; my village a heap of ashes. Was this good,
Marguerite? They tell me you fled with another man, will-
ingly. Is this true? If it is, you may add one more to the
list of ingratitudrs. You can slay me. I am here. You
have but to recognize me, point me out, and hundreds of
hands will be raised against the Red Ra‘ah, who has defied
them so long. I am come to seek you. put my life in your
hands. If you have any love left for me, pretend not to
know me when you see me. I am here in the character of
Don Gregorio Rodriquez, a rich planter of Manilla, who knows
your aunt Eulalic at Pondicherry. Now, farewell. Be dis-
creet, and all may yet be well. SIDAH SAPULOH."

When Marguerite had finished reading this letter, she
trembled violently.

He was there, the man whom she regarded with such a
strange mixture of feelings, now. Was she glad or afraid?
She hardly knew which was the uppermost emotion. She
knew, by this time, what he was called in Singapore. She
knew that the gorgeous Rajah, whom she knew on the island,
was an execrated pirate here. She sat trembling, for fear
he might be found out, and wondering how she should meet
him.

And she knew that he was in the next room, too, for did
she not hear his voice?

Marguerite sat hesitating and trembling, till the clang of
the bell, down below, gave token that it was time to dress for
dinner. She hurried through with her toilet, and while still
engaged in it, heard the door of the next room opened,
and the light step of the stranger going past, down the
stairs. -

Poor Marguerite had not been happy since she left the
island. The ruthless destruction she had seen perpetrated
by the crew of the Avenger equaled the atrocities of the pirates

themselves.
Marguerite, in her untutored simplicity, had imagined that

she could leave the island, under the escort of Monsieur
Claude, taking with her only the presents given to her by the
Rajah. She thought that she could go to Pondicherry, to
her aunt, and thus regain her family without offending the
Rajah very much.

He would forgive her, she thought. He was so kind.
Besides, he had no business to keep her from going to‘her
aunt Eulalie.

But when she found herself as powerless under the leader-
ship of Monsieur Claude as under that of the Red Rajah
himself, she altered her mind, and began to wish she had
never left the island.

But we will leave her to explain her feelings herself in
due time. She decended to the drawing-room soon after,
and found Mr. Earle there, gotten up in formal black, and
talking to a tall gentleman, whose back was'turned to her.

She entered so softly as not to be heard for some mo-
ments; and so had time to scan the stranger, and prepare
herself for the meeting. It was he. She knew him in a
moment. There was no mistaking that lofty figure, so full
of haughty grace. His hair was clipped short, to be sure,
and he was attired in the garments of an European fashion-
able; but it was he.

Now, at last, Mr. Earle turned round, and saw her.

“Ah! my dear ma'm’selle, we were just a-talkin' about
you. Don Gregorio, this is Ma’m'selle Marguerite de Fa-
vannes, the romantic young lady as I told you of. Ma’m’-
sells, this is Don Gregorio Rodriquez, of Manilla, as ’as the
pleasure of knowing your lady-aunt in Pondicherry."

Don Gregorio bowed low, with stately grace, and poor.

Marguerite courtesied, casting down her eyes in great confu-
sion.

The don addressed her in French, and glided into a fluent

conversation, without the slightest appearance of effort. Mar-
guerite replied in low monosyllables, but her embarrassment
was attributed to modesty, and there was no appearance of
the two ever having met before.

The girl was very much relieved, however, by the ap-
pearance of Julia Earle, who sailed into the room a few
minutes afterward, fluttering in waves of Swiss muslin. Julia
had heard of the arrival of the foreign millionaire, and was
prepared to fascinate.

The Spanish gentleman was evidently much taken with
her appearance, for he entered into a very lively talk with
her at once. Julia spoke very good French, and the con-
versation was managed so as to bring Marguerite into it very
frequently. ‘ V

Julia discovered such a fund of information, wit and re-
partee, that Don Gregorio and she were on splendid terms

refit.

rant.

The Red Raj ah. 21

 

 

when dinner was announced. Mr. Earle was fain to sit by,
and pretend to understand what was said, when he hardly
knew a word of French.

When dinner was announced, the don stood up to offer '

his arm to the magnificent Julia, when Mr. Earle interposed,
timidly:

“ Ain‘t we a-goin’ to wait for Claude, my dear? ’E ought
to be tin pretty soon.”

“ Ohi never mind Claude,” was Miss J ulia's reply. “ They
can keep some soup hot for him, but we can’t let every
thing else get cold for him. Come, pa. Take Marguerite
down."

From which dialogue several things may be inferred.

First, that Claude Peyton was intimate enough already at
that house to be called by his Christian name. Second,
that the fair Julia was too much engrossed with her new
conquest to think of her old beau. Third, that she did not
care much for Claude just at present.

All which things were partly true.

Claude was very intimate. Since he had brought Mar-
guerite to Earle's house he had become more so than ever.
When first the orphan girl arrived, Julia received her with
effusion, and, as old Earle had said, the two girls became as
“ thick as pickpockets.” But, somehow, after a week or so,
the affection had cooled, and Marguerite was a great deal
alone in her room. And Claude was so much occupied in

fitting out the Avenger for see, that he was seldom at home. ‘

When he was, he was devoted to Marguerite.

But the girl herself had begun to treat him coldly, and
the state of things was rapidly becoming unpleasant at the
“Palms ” when Don Gregorio arrived to stir up the wa-'
ters.

In a few moments more the party entered the dining-room
and took their seats at table.

Claude Peyton did not make his appearance till the dinner
was over, and they were enjoying their dessert.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
m msrmr.

Tim consequence of Claude’s intimacy in the house was
that a laughing attack was opened upon him by every one
at the table for being late, and he was so much taken up
with his answers and repartees, as to forget, momentarily,
the presence of a stranger.

He had ,heard of the don’s arrival from the servants, and
had admired the gorgeous prahu-yacht, that lay anchored so
close to his own vessel.

Don Gregorio, in the graceful foreign fashion, mingled in
the conversation without waiting for a formal introduction,
and Claude, knowing all about him previously, answered
gayly. And thus it happened that the whole party were soon
rattling away, and Don Gregorio was still entirely unac-
quainted with Claude’s surname.

Marguerite addressed him as “Monsieur Claude.” Julia
called him “ Claude," and so did her father. Naturally,
Don Gregorio followed the fashion of the rest, and addressed
him as Senor Claudio.

Claude’s arrival diffused a great deal of life over the party.
His high spirits and handsome face made him welcome
everywhere. He was full of excitement over the proposed
expedition against the pirates. He had been on board the
Avenger all day, seeing to her stores and ammunition, and
shipping a crew of Europeans. ,

He felt safe to clean out every pirate in the Archipelago,
and bragged not a little about it.

Julia, Mr. Earle, and Don Gregorio, were all much inter-
ested in the preparations, especially the latter. He asked
numerous questions, and appeared to be very anxious for the
success of the expedition.

“ The scoundrels ought to be killed," he observed. “ They
have done more mischief than any of you know, and it is
time that they were exterminated'.’

Marguerite do Favannes was the only silent one of the
party. She could not act a part like Don Gregorio; and she
was not ignorant like Claude and Julia. She sat quietly by,
while the others Were laughing and joking about the swift
destruction that was to overtake the Red Rajah.

And Marguerite looked with mingled wonder and terror
at the very man who was to be the victim of all these prepar-
ations. There he sat, serene and placid, aslight smile on his

 

handsome face, his dark, luminous eyes half-closed in lazy self-
possessiou, listening to the talk, and now and then dropping
an occasional sentence in his deep, melodious voice. In the
very midst of his enemies, the Red Rajah of the Archipelago
was as quiet and impassive as an exquisite at a play.

Mr. Earle, as we know, followed the old English custom
of sitting over his wine, while the ladies went up stairs.

Julia gave the signal, soon after Claude’s entrance, and
she and Marguerite retired to the drawing-room. Don Gre-
gorio held the door open for the departure, and as the fair
Julia passed, she laughingly observed:

" I hope you won‘t let pa detain you too long, Don Gre-
gorio. You’ll find his stories insuflerably long-winded.”

“ I will stay but a moment," returned the gentleman.

Then, as Marguerite passed, he whispered to her in French,
very rapidly: .

“ In the garden. To-nigh ."

The girl bowed her head, and departed with Julia.

Don Gregorio returned to the table, and took his seat.

“ Now, then, gentlemen,” said their host, “ let’s ’ave a
quiet chat hover the port. Claude, my boy, ’ere’s your
’ealth, and may you ’ave success in your hexpedition. Don
Gregorio, ‘elp yourself, and pass the bottle to Claude."

The don smiled blandly, and did as requested, and the

conversation drifted into its old topic, the Red Rajah. Since

the coming of Rodriquez, Mr. Earle’s notions had taken .-
sudden change toward Claude. He began to patronize the
young man, good~naturedly enough, but still with a certain
air of superiority.

“ The young fellow’s all very well," he said to himself,
“ but this ‘ere don is a much better match for my Julia, and
I think I’ll ’ave to let Claude know it. Politely, of course.
If he must ’ave a wife, ’0 can take the little French girl.
I’ve a notion as .‘ow ’e likes her best, any ’ow."

And so he began to give Claude some fatherly advice, as
to how he should conduct his expedition. Moreover, he
took occasion to make several jocular allusions to the “ little
ma’m’selle,” rallying Claude on his fondness for her. The
Virginian took it all in good part, at first, but wearisome
repetition made him a little testy at last. Don Gregorio took
no part in the jokes. He sat, quiet and placid to all appear-
ance. But every time old Earle alluded to Marguerite, coup-
ling her name with this young stranger’s, his hand tightly
clenched under the table. I t

“ Will you have a cigarre?” he asked the old gentleman,
at last, to stop the conversation. “ You know you like my
leetle cheroots, senor.”

“ Much obliged,” said the jolly merchant. “ With the
greatest of pleasure. Ha! Claude, my boy, you never ’ad a
cigar like this in Yankee-land, old fellow.”

Claude made no answer. A Virginian hates to be called
a Yankee, and he was beginning to resent Earle’s tone.

Don Gregorio tendered the exquisite case to the two gen-
tlemen, and it seemed for awhile as if peace was restored in
the curling smoke.

But the don himself opened the campaign presently, with
a remark to Claude.

“ It seems, senor, that you were very fortunate in your
first expedition. ”

“ How so!” inquired Claude.

“ You did expect to have much trouble in fighting with
this Red Rajah, I undairstand. But instead of bringeeng
back his head, as you say you go to do, you only find de
leetle children and de women dere. Carambo, senor. It
was well you deed not meet dat Red Rajah. I have hear
dat he is terrible man to meet."

“ I don't know that I should have cared much, if I had met
him,” returned Claude, sharply. “ One good brig, with a
fifty-pound rifle, and two Gatling guns on board, would have
scattered him and his fleet to the four winds.”

Don Gregorio smiled provokingly. He took the cheroot
from between his lips, and allowed a stream of smoke to es-
cape before he answered.

“ Mi querido senorito," he said, at length, “ you are quite
young yet, and you have not hear of de way in which dat
Red Rajah take de English corvette, Vengeance, two year

ago. Eet was ver’ lockee for you dat ‘e deed not catch you.

to serve you do same way.”

Claude was nettled at this speech. He did not like the
term “ senorito ” (little senor), nor the superior smile of the
den.

“ It’s the quah’a luck that he escaped me,” he replied.

“I don’t know any thing about the corvette Vengeance.
She was captured by some devilish device of that infernal

 

 

 

22 N The, Red Rajah.

 

 

 

cowardly cut-throat, the Red Rajah. He never took her in
fair fight, I’m sure. No one but a devil, fresh from hell,
could have, concocted such a diabolical plot to destroy the

steamer ‘ Alcide,’ that afterward chased him. Did you hear'

that story, sir? The unhung villain blew up the corvette he
had taken by some trick, and very nearly sunk the Alcide.
Her captain is in port now, and commands the frigate ‘ Ma-
rengo.’ He’ll tell you all about your precious Red Rajah,
Don Gregorio.”

Rodriquez listened calmly till he had finished, smoking
tranquilly all the while.

“ You are excited, senorito,” he said, provokingly. “ The
Red Rajah has taken scores of vessels in fair fight. Let us
be just to our enemies. He has led a wild life in dese seas,
but de universal re-port eez dat he is a brave enemee. ,De
Red Rajah nevair rob de poor man.”

t‘It seems to me, Don Gregorio, that you talk as if you
liked this cut-throa .” ,

“ Quien sabe?" replied Rodriquez; “I do not see for my
part dat he is any worse dan de Engleesh, de Dootch, de
Portuguese, ay, even my own contree-men. Dey coom here;
day rob, and murdair, and steal; dey call it conquest. Vot
he do more? He make do fleet, he take de sheeps, he burn,
he kill. So do do mans-of—war. Eh, senorito?”

“I see no parallel between the cases,” said Claude, hotly.
“The European men-of-war only fight in time of war, after
a regular declaration. You can not compare them to pirates.
This fellow wars with all the world.”

“ Por Dios! You are right,” said the don, laughing in
his low, melodious tones; “and he geeve de whole world
mosh trouble to put heem daoon.”

Claude grew angry at the cther’s mocking tone. He had
felt so much like a hero, that he did not like to be sneered at.

“ I am glad that you sympathize with him,” he said,
sulkily. “ You’ll be sorry when you see him hung, which
he will be if we catch him. ” '

“ But vy deed you not keep him when you did have him?”

asked Rodriquez, laughing a little more, as the other grew‘

angrier. “ You were in his stronghold, dey tell me. You
had de fine time killing de womens and do children. Why

did you no stay a leetle longair to see de mastair of de’

haoose?”
Claude was about to answer angrily, when Mr. Earle in-
terposed with a laugh, anxious to make peace.
“ Don’t ye remember the hold song, don? ’ow it says:
‘ Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief,
Taffy came to my ’ouse, and stole a bit 0’ beef,
HI went to Tefly’s ‘ouse, Taffy wasn’t at ’ome,
Taffy came to my 'onse, and stole s. mutton-bone)
That’s the way to do it, Don Gregorio.”
The don puffed tranquilly.

“ And veech of do two gentlemens act de part of Senor,

Tafli," he inquired. “It is an honorable part to go to a
man‘s haoose and burn act, and den ran away, like do tief,
you say.” 4

Claude could stand this sort of thing no longer. His tem-
per was hot at the best of times.

“I burnt the Rajah’s palace,” he said, fiercely; “and I'

killed all the men I found, because it was the nest of ac-
cursed pirates. That’s why I did it. As for the women
and children, God is my witness, I tried to spare them. But
I had a crew of wild Malays and Dyaks, picked up every-

where and anywhere. They were uncontrollable by me,‘

when they had once tasted blood. It was they who com-
mitted the depredations you speak of. And yet, I don’t
know why I say this. It’s no one’s business what I did.
They were a nest of pirates, and it sewed them all right. If
I catch him, I’ll serve him the same way.”

“ How do you mean?” asked Don Gregorio, languidly.
“ Do you mean you will burn his ha-oose, and mu away?”

“ No, sir,” thundered Claude, striking his fist on the table,
so that the glasses rung; “ I’ll cut his pirate head off, and

exterminate him and all his crew, so that there shall never

be a. Red Rajah heard of again in these seas.” ,
Don Gregorio extracted a second cheroot from his case,
and calmly lighted it. When he spoke again, he changed
the language to French.
“And mademoisclle," he said, between the puffs of his
cigar; “ what will you do with her? I hear from a friend
of mine that you stole her away against her will. My, friend

told me that you had acted the part of a coward to that

young lady, for she loved the Red Rajah.” ,
Mr. Earle was puzzled by the rapid French, and did not
understand what was going on.

 

“ Then your friend is a liar!" replied Claude, shortly,
still in French.

Don Gregorio took his cigar from between his lips.

“ I never desert my friends,” he said, quietly. “ You are
brave on women and children, and behind the backs or
brave men. My friend can not resent your words. He is
too many miles away. I do it for him. Monsieur, you will
give me a meeting to-morrow., or I will post you as a coward
throughout Singapore.” '

Mr. Earle was completely mystified.

“ What are you two talking about?” he inquired. “Why
can’t you talk English, instead of jabberin’ them foreign
lingoes?"

The don turned to him with a pleasant laugh.

“We were arranging a little ride into the mountains,
for to-morrow morning,” he said. “ Is it not so, Monsieur
Claude?”

“But Claude can’t go a-ridin’ with you tomorrow," said
innocent Mr. Earle; “ he’s a-goin’ to sail in the morning, af-
ter the pirates.”

“ He will put it ofl, I think," said the don, serenely. “ Is
it not so, senor?’ Your vessel will go With the mate in the.
command. Is it not so?”

Claude eyed the other with a peculiar look.

“ I suppose it must be so,”/ said he, gloomily.

“ Let us shake hands on it, then,” said the Spaniard, and
he extended his hand.

Claude knew that the meeting between them must be kept
secret, at the peril of his being posted as a coward. He
knew that he must meet this man on the field—this man
whom he had never seen before. He must resign the com-
mand of the Avenger, and peril his life to atone for the
hasty word he had spoken. And yet he ,had been so
grossly, though covertly, insulted, that he could not do
otherwise than accept the challenge. There are some insults
that can not be borne, and the words “liar and coward ”,
had passed. .1

He held out his hand and took that of the other in a firm
grasp. . .

“ I will keep the appointment,” he said, meaningly.

Don Gregorio bowed low.

“ Come, Senor Earle,” he remarked, “ is it not time we did
tineesh to drink. De ladies will expect us, and I promised
the Senorita Giulia that I would come into de drawin’-room.
Will you dispense with me?” ‘ '

“ Certainly, certainly, don," replied the puffy merchant.

He thought within himself that this Spanish chap might2

take a fancy to his Julia, and he was willing to let him have
his chances. , '

A few minutes afterward Don Gregorio was entering the
drawing-room.

As he put his hand on the door, he muttered:

“ I have disposed of this housebreaker pretty well. Now ,

for my pretty little runaway.”
And he turned the knob of the door and went in.

 

CHAPTER XV.
m GARDEN. .
Ar eleven o’clock that night all was silent around the

“Palms.” The house was dark and every one had retired,

according to Eastern custom.

Just at this hour, however, the green open-work door“

which led from the drawing-room onto the open piazza or

colonnade, was slowly unclosed, and a dark figure issued.

therefrom. It was Don Gregorio, still in evening dress, as

he had retired from the drawing-room twenty minutes be«

fore.

He had just tapped on the wall of Marguerite’s room, to '

let her know he. was going, before he stole down-stairs.

Don Gregorio's footstepswere perfectly noiseless. He were

black felt slippers, which made no sound.
He stalked silently. into the garden, and turned behind the

first rose-thicket to wait for Marguerite. He was not de-'

ceived in her coming. Pretty soon the door opened again,
and he saw a small figure, dark and unconspicuou, flitting

down the walk. He stepped out, and the next minute Mar- '
guerite stood beside him. She had thrown a dark mantle'
over her white dress, so as to appear less conspicuous in the '

moonlight. “

Don Gregorio said not a word; no more, did she. He

The Red Raj ah. 23

 

 

drew her arm through his, and led her through the garden-
walks till they came to the arbor where Claude had first seen
Julia Earle. Here he gravely handed the young lady to a
seat, and took his own at a short distance off, and facing
her.

Then there was a long silence.

'.Marguerite sat with her eyes fixed on the ground, unable
to speak, and trembling under the glowing eyes of her
strange companion. The Rajah, on his side, literally de-
voured her with his eager gaze, and seemed to find it as dif-
ficult on his part to address her,

At last, however, he began, in a low tone, in French:

“It is thee, indeed, Marguerite, .my little pearl, whom I
cherished in my heart. And thou it was that left me.
Left me all alone, to flee with a robber, a slayer of women
and chfldren."

Marguerite shivered, but made no reply.

The Red Rajah waited for some time. At last he asked
her:

“ Well, mademoiselle? Have you no word for the friend
who saved your life once? Is it true that you left the island
willingly with this boy? Had you no remembrance left of
my kindness, except to avail yourself of it, by carrying off
your wardrobe and jewelry that I gave you?”

Still no answer. Poor Marguerite’s head had sunk on her
lap, and she was weeping violently. The Rajah’s words had
reached her tender little heart, and she felt like a culprit be-
fore bin}.

He looked at her in silence, for some minutesfl Then a
sudden smile lighted up his dark, handsome face. He sud-
denly shifted his position over to where she was, took one
of the little hands in his, passed his arm around her, and
drew her to him softly.

“Come, Marguerite,” he whispered, kindly. “Tell ,me
all about it. ”

The relief was instantaneous. The soft-hearted child
burst out crying on his breast, and told her simple little
story between her sobs, just as a child might.

“ Oh, my lord!” she murmured. “Truly, truly, I never
meant to do as I have done. But I saw a ship outside the
island, when I was out hawking. And it set me to thinking
of poor, poor papa, you know. And then I remembered
Monsieur Claude, poor Monsieur Claude, whom the savages
carried off, you know. I told ycu all about it before. And
’ I couldn’t help thinkin of poor aunt Eulalie in Pondicherry,

who must think ‘me to be dead. And then, somehow, it
struck me that Monsieur Claude might have got away from
the savages, and might be in the ship. I cannot tell how; it
was that I thought so, but I couldn’t help it. And then I
went home and waited. And, sure enough, Monsieur Claude
did come in that very night, all alone. How he got through
the village I cannot tell, but he came to my pavilion in the
:middle of the night. I was dreadfully frightened at first,
but when I found who it was, I was so glad, for I fancied
he had brought me news from my aunt Eulalie. And, you
know, my lord, you promised to take me to her, and you
:never did. So I was the least bit angry with.you, and he
:promised so nicely to take me to my aunt Eulalie that I con-
:sented to go at last. But I meant to leave a letter. for you,
tto tell you where I had gone; indeed, I did. And Monsieur
tClaude, he kept promising to do it, and to take me to my
:aunt’s. But, oh! my lord! how be deceived me! When I
packed up my things next morning, I meant to sail in the
1prahu you left me, and to send it back with news to you
where I was. I thought you deserved a little fright, you
know, for not keeping your promise. You're not angry, are

on?” a

The Rajah pressed the little head close against his breast,
as he answered:

“ No, child, no. Not angry, quite. But hurt bitterly.
Why did you not tell me all this long ago? I would have
taken you to your aunt’s. This Claude of yours does not
appear to have done any better, however. What are you
doing in this vulgar Englishman’s house?”

“I will tell you all, indeed I will, my lord,” she said,
timidly. “While I was embarking on the prahu, a boat
suddenly rowed out to attack us. Your people fired at the
boat, and oh! I shall never forget the scene. A terrible gun
they had in the boat commenced firing, and ‘it sent forth' a
:stream of bullets like a fire-engine. All the men on the
palm fell dead in a moment, and we fled for our lives up
the streets. I hid in a house and heard Monsieur Claude

--calling me. I ran out to reproach him, but he would not
listen. He carried me off and, put me in a cabin, and from

 

 

there I heard shots and women’s cries; and I knew what they
were doing. Monsieur Claude tried to prevent the men from
killing the women, but they would do it, and threatened to
shoot him if he stopped them. And then they brought me
away from there, and I thought I could go to Pondicherry
at once, and send word to you. But they brought me here
to this stupid house, and won’t let me go."

And she began crying again.

“ And what pretense do they give for keeping you?" asked
the Rajah. .

“Oh! they tell me that a young girl must not travel
alone,” she answered, pouting. “ I must stay in their stupid
old house till doomsday for their propriety. Oh! I hate pro
priety.”

The Rajah laughed.

“ And how have you been treated otherwise?"

“ 0h! pretty well at first. When I came here Mademoi-
selle Julie was polite, and pretended to be very loving. But
she’s altered since then. And whenever she sees Monsieur
Claude talking to me, she comes and interrupts us, and says
spiteful things to me. Calls me a child, and wants to talk
to Monsieur Claude all alone."

i “ And you, Marguerite,” he asked, suddenly, “ do you
like to talk to Monsieur Claude so much 9"

“ Not now," she said. “ He has broken his word to me
and he is cruel. He ought to have taken me to my aunt
Eulalie’s, and not leave me here in this horrible position like
a beggar."

“ Marguerite,” he said, suddenly, after a pause of silence,
"if I promise truly to take you to Pondicherry, will you go
with me?"

“ Will you keep your promise?” she asked, half-reproach-
fully. . .

“ I will, as there is a God above us,” he said, solemnly.
" Tomorrow night, if you dare the venture, we will sail to
Pondicherry, and you shall see your aunt Eulalie. Will you
come?”

“ I will,” she said, and submitted silently to the kiss which
the Rajah placed on her forehead.

“‘Then let us forgive and forget," he said, kindly; “ I
forgive you, child— Why, what’s the matter?"

Marguerite half-started from him, and then cowered closer
than ever in his arms, pointing silently to the entrance of
the arbor. _

Stealing down the walk toward them, with noiseless steps,
was animmense royal tiger, the moonlight playing on his
gaudy stripes, as he moved along at a stealthy pace.
his great green eyes glaring hungrily. Marguerite gave a
little sigh, and fainted dead away. The Rajah rose and
faced the terrible beast alone.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
'rnn mesa.

“ I ovens: to have known it,” muttered the Rajah, as be
surveyed the monstrous brute silently creeping toward him.
He felt how recklessly imprudent had been this midnight
meeting, in a garden where tigers roved every night. The
creatures swim across the narrow channel that separates
Singapore Island from the mainland, during the night, and
carry off several hundred human victims yearly.

The-one in question was about a hundred feet off, at the
moment when Marguerite first attracted the Rajah’s attention
to it, and came creeping along, just like a. cat stalking a flock
of pigeons.

When Marguerite fainted, the Rajah laid her back on the
bench, and started up to confront the tiger. Drawing from his
breast a long kriss, whose wavy edge showed it capable of
inflicting a heavy wound, he rushed up the path to meet
the formidable beast, with no more fear than if it had been
a sheep.

And the tiger was true to its cowardly and ferocious char-
acter. As soon as the man came rushing toward it, the
beast halted, and crouched close to the earth, as if hesitating
whether to retreat or to spring.

‘The Rajah was an old tiger-hunter. He had often seen
the hillmen from Java kill the tiger with nothing but a short
dagger, and had learned their method from the men them-
selves.

He resolved to use the kriss in preference to. the pistol, to

geim‘if .:?;rge§.srmi‘:gei;; ,: :37. ;

:11; if :1}:

 

24 The Red Rajah.

 

 

avoid alarming the house. As Don Gregorio, he did not
wish Mr. Earle’s household to find him in consultation with
Marguerite. .

So on he rushed, till he stood within twenty feet of the
tiger, when he, too, halted.

Now the man and the beast looked at each other. The
man stood erect, the right foot a little advanced, the body
swaying with a supple motion, ready to advance or retreat.

The beast was crouched close to the earth, almost undis-
tingui able in the moonlight, so well did its striped body
harmonize with the tints of the ground. Its great green
eyes glowed like coals, and the tail slowly lashed from side
to side. The body was quivering with eager motion, setting
backward and forward, ready for its spring.

Now came the crisis.

The man stiffened into a statue, the tail of the beast ceased
to oscillate. Then there was a sudden roar of eager desire,
and the great body of the tiger flew through the air, full upon
the man.

But the Rajah, cool, wary, and ready, sprung to one side
as the tiger leaped.

The great beast missed its spring, and came to the earth,
all in a heap, by the man.

In an instant the broad blade of the kriss gleamed in the
air, and with a mighty blow, the Rajah tore open a great
red gash in the creature’s side, leaping back almost in the
eflort.

The beast uttered a howl of rage and pain, and turned to
spring again.

Like all animals of the cat kind, its spring once balked,
the tiger is not half so dangerous. A severe wound cows
it, moreover.

Again man and beast faced each other. The man was
encouraged, the beast depressed. But the latter seemed de-
termined to take its revenge.

While they stood thus, however, a noise was heard in the
house. It was Claude Peyton's voice, shouting:

“ Rouse up there! Rouse up! Tigers in the garden 1”

The beast seemed to hesitate. It turned its head. The
Inext moment the Red Rajah leaped upon it, with aloud
shout. The shout completed the tiger’s confusion. It turned
round to flee.

With a second blow, delivered with all the force ofvan
arm made like steel and wire for strength, the man slashed
the beast across the loins, cutting the back-bone.

The tiger gave a furious roar, and turned round, clawing
at its assailant. But the haunches dragged useless after the
fore-quarters. The Rajah leaped actively back, and as the
tiger dragged itself painfully up to the attack, a third heavy
stroke laid open the beast’s skull like an egg-shell.

Without waiting for any thing further, the pirate chief
ran to the arbor wherein Marguerite was left, and found her
reviving.

“ Quick, Marguerite,” he said, hurriedly, “ slip round,
and into the house—the back way. They must not see us
together. The tiger’s dead, and I’m not hurt. But the people
in the house are alarmed. Run quick." The sound of voices
and footsteps on the piazza was heard as he spoke.

With a readiness and courage that was hardly to be ex-
pected, the girl rose and slipped off, weak as she was after
the fainting-fit.

The Rajah, or Don Gregorio, as he must be called before
other people, ran up to the tiger, which lay breathing its last,
resolved to attract the attention of any one coming.

He began to shout:

“ Here! This way! Here he is!”

Presently he had the satisfaction of seeing a crowd of-

native serVants dressed in white, who came rushing up,
armed with every kind of chance weapon, and headed by
Claude Peyton.

“ The meddlesome fool!” muttered Don Gregorio, as he
saw the other advance; “why did he come here to inter-
fare?”

‘, When the posse of servants arrived, there Were loud cries

,of wonder and surprise, at the sight of the dead tiger, and
the calm-looking gentleman who stood beside it, deliberately
wiping a large Malay kriss on a bunch of leaves.

Claude grounded the rifle in astonishment and ejaculated:

“ Good heavens, Don Gregorio! what have you been do
in ‘2”

g; Taking a moonlight walk, Monsieur Claude,” answered
the other, sarcastically; “ do you not see how I amuse my-
self, when I walk?"

 

Claude looked upon him with wonder, as the don quietly
replaced the kriss in his bosom, where it was concealed.
This stranger was the first man who put him at a disadvan-
tage, and he could not account for the studied insolcnce of
his manner.

“ You must be crazy,” he said, “ to walk out here at night,
when tigers are swarming all round. ”

“ Are you afraid to stay?" demanded the den, with a
sneer. “ And yet you carry a rifle. I walk where I please.
Will you follow me, senor .’"

The servants stood gaping, for the conversation was carried
on in French, which they did not understand. They could
see that the two “ sahibs ” were not friendly; in fact the re-
verse.

Claude answered the don’s innuendo with equal sarcasm:

“I do not deal in assassinations by night, Don Gregorio.
I think that to-morrow’s meeting might be enough to satisfy
you; or, perhaps, like the rest of your countrymen, you pre-
fer the the kmfe in the dark to the sword in the dag/fight."

Don Gregorio laughed, good-naturedly.

“A good answer, senor. Come, how shall we meet to-
morrow? I have no friends in this town, and I must leave
the arrangements to you."

“ You have forced this duel upon me, Don Gregorio,"
said Claude, haughtily. “ It is my privilege to name time,
place, and weapons. I name eleven o’clock to-morrow, a
mile from here, in a quiet spot in the jungle. I will bring
two of the oflicers of the garrison here, whom I know, and
we fight with the small sword. I warn you that you will
repent your insolence."

“Be it so,” said the den, bowing. “And now, senor, I
propose that we retire. The servants can do what they like
with this.”

And he kicked the dead body of the tiger as he spoke, and
sauntered of.

As Don Gregorio entered the house, he saw a head look-
ing out from the window above him. Before it was with-
drawn, he recognized the golden hair of Julia Earle.

“Humphl” How long has she been there, I wonder?"
muttered Don Gregorio Rodriquez.

CHAPTER XVJI.
mss mam.

TEE next morning, every one was down to breakfast-

bright and early. Don Gregorio made his appearance in the
same solemn black as on the evening before, but Claude and
his best were both in cool white duck. Don Gregorio’s
glance was bent anxiously on Marguerite as she came in.
The child looked pale, as if she had passed a poor night, but
no remarks from any one indicated that she had been seen
outside.

When Julia Earle came down to table, breakfast was half
over. The young lady was a perfect picture of health and
beauty. Don Gregorio’s bow of greeting was lower than
usual. In spite of himself, he felt pleased with Julia’s daz-
zling looks.

Miss Earle opened a rattling conversation with the den,
and brought every one at table in. The only silent one this
morning was Claude. He was anxious to get away about
his business, and excused himself as soon as possible.

“At what o'clock shall I expect you, monsieur?” asked
Rodriquez, as he left the room.

“ As soon as I can get back,” returned the Virginian; “ I
will bring a horse for you.”

“ Au ream,” said the don, pleasantly; and the sailor left
the room. ‘

“What are you going to do this morning?” asked Julia,
of the don, as Claude left.

“We are to take a ride through the country, and see the
lions," he responded. “ The Senor Claudio has promised to
make up a party with some officers from the garrison.”

“ But I thought that he sailed this morning?” said Julia,
looking at him shrewdly.

“ He has given up the idea, at my request, senorita.”

“ Indeed?” said the lady. “ Why, you must have fascin-
ated the gentleman, Don Gregorio. ”

“ I have sometimes been told that I have fascinating man-
ners," said Don Gregorio, calmly.

Julia Earle looked at him for several minutes, but the don
was too old an actor to be disconcerted.

The Red Raj ah.

    

25

 

The old merchant had taken his departure to his ware-
house before this, and Marguerite was the only other person
in the room besides the servants.

Julia suddenly rose from the table.

“Don Gregorio,” she said, “ will you come into the gar-
den a few minutes? I want to speak to you."

Artless little Marguerite started guiltily. She could not
conceal her emotions. Julia did not seem to notice her,
however. Don Gregorio rose and bowed.

“I shall be only too happy, with so charming a compan-
ion,” he said.

The lady took his arm. and they left the room, poor little
Marguerite remaining behind, half fearing, half doubting that
something was the matter.

Julia, as she passed through the hall, caught up a broad
hat, and set it on her sunny curls, and then walked quietly
by Don Gregorio’s side till they reached the eventful arbor.

There she took her seat, and spread out her gauzy skirts
over the bench, like white billows. Don Gregorio stood be-
fore her, hat in hand, and waited for the lady to open the
conversation.

From a certain meaning look, it was evident that some-
thing was on her mind.

“Don Gregorio,” she said, presently, “ do you think I
have good eyesight ‘3”

“If the beauty of the organ betokens strength of vision,
senorita, your eyesight must be wonderful."

And the den bowed low.

“ Thank you, senor. Compliments apart, I can see as far
as most people. Well, then, will you please to look toward
the house?”

“I obey, senorita."

“ You see that there is an opening in this arbor?”

U I do."

“ And opposite to it there is a window?"

“Well, senorita?” '

“ Well, senor; That window is mine."

“ Happy window!” said Don Gregorio, sentimentally.

“You are fond of moonlight walks, senor, I see. You
take them even when there are tigers about. I saw the
creature you killed. But then, senor, other people may be
fond of moonlight. I am, for one. I prefer to enjoy it
from my window. There was a beautiful moon last night,
Don Gregorio; but I should never have dreamed of walking
out. to enjoy it. I saw you go out, and I thought to myself
that you were rash. But I did not know you well enough
to remonstrate with you. So I kept still by my window be-
hind the curtains.” -

Don Gregorio stood looking at her steadily with a cool
but rather stern gaze. He did not try any more compli-
ments. He was measuring his situation. How much did
this girl know or suspect?

Julia looked at him in turn out of her magnificent blue
eyes. Her gaze was one of decided admiration for the bold,
handsome stranger. She waited for him to speak.

“ Well, senorite, and is that all you have to tell me?" he
asked, at last.

“ Not quite,” she replied, smiling. “ I saw you walk
out into the garden and disappear among the bushes. I had
almost made up my mind to call to you, and warn you,
when I saw another figure come out and follow you.
Senor Don Gregorio Rodriquez, that second figure was a
woman. More than that, it was Marguerite, and I knew
her."

“Well, well,"'he said, abruptly. “ To the end of this.
You saw that. What else did you see?"

“ I saw you two together in this arbor, senor. You
seemed to be on excellent terms for people introduced last
night. I resolved to be sure. I beheld you through an
opera-glass. It Was you and Marguerite de Favannes, and
she lay in your arms, and you kissed her. That set me to
thinking. I said to myself, ‘ They have seen each other be-
fore. Where was it?’ And as I thought, I could come to but
one conclusion. Either Marguerite dc Favannes is a loose,
abandoned wretch without a shred of character—”

“ Hush! if you please," he said, sternly.

“ Or," she went on, quietly, “ Don Gregorio Rodriquez is
an impostor, and has known her before. And the only man
who has known her before is—”

She paused.

Don Gregorio Rodriquez drew himself up to his full
hight.

“ You are quite right,” he said. “ I will spare you fur-
ther words. I am the Red Rajah.”

 

 

J ulia Earle looked at him now with undisguised interest.

“You are a brave man,” she said, quietly. “ A desper-
ate man. Do you not fear your enemies here? Think.
If I were to denounce you, death on the gallows would be
your portion."

“But you will not denounce me," he said, coolly.

“ Why not?”

“Because, to do it, pretty lady, you must go to Singa-
pore. Bethink you. You are alone in this garden with a
noted PlRA'l‘E, whose very name signifies the blood he has
shed. What is to prevent my burying a kriss in your white
bosom, and leaving here before any one knows of it?"

“Every thing, my lord Rajah,” she answered, rising, and
looking him straight in the eye, Without blanching or quail-
ing. “ In the first place, you are no Malay.”

“ How do you know?" he asked.

“ Every feature of your face is Caucasian, and no Malay
ever spoke French as you do. Being a Caucasian, you are
not a coward. So I am safe."

“ Necessity may make a man do many things," he an-
swered.

“Well, then, there is a second reason. If you were to
murder me, how could you get to sea? It would be found
out before noon, and the whole squadron lies in port. How
could your vessel pass under the guns of five frigates and the
Avenger?" -

Even while she spoke, came the boom of a distant gun.

“ There is your answer!” said the Red Rajah, with a
smile of triumph, folding his arms, and standing before
her. “The squadron is under way now, to sail after the
Red Rajah. And while they are hunting for a vanished
nation. among a desolated Archipelago, the Red Rajah him-
self stands in Singapore; and his fleet lies hidden in fifty
little creeks round here; and his men are scattered all round
this very plantation. Do you want to see which of us is

in the other’s power, Miss Earle? If you do, sound this ‘

whistle."

And he drew from his vest pockets small whistle of gold,
set with diamonds, and offered it to her.

“No, my fair lady,” he continued; “your watching last
night was very ingenious, no doubt. You found out some-
thing, but you made the worst night’s work of your life.”

“ What do you want here, then?" demanded Julia, turn-
ing a little pale.

“ I did want only one thing,” he answered. “ It was my
little Marguerite, who was stolen from me. She was my
child-angel. In her I seemed to see my youth once more,
the days when I was good and happy. Well, if it had not
been for you, I should have taken her away, and left this
Claude to you. Marguerite says you‘re fond of him. You
would have lost a rival. Now I‘ve changed my mind.”

“ And what will you do now?" she asked, shrinking back
in spite of herself, before this singular man.

“Instead of one, I hall take two," he replied, a grim
smile curling his mustache. “ We Malay pirates are all
Mahommedans, you know. You shall be the sultana of my
harem. And as for your Claude, he dies to-day, for stealing
Marguerite, and burning my palace.”

Julia turned from white to the brightest scarlet in a mo-
ment. She trembled and her eyes sought the ground. The

words of the Red Rajah were brutally plain, and she felt‘

herself so utterly in his power. She had come out, triume
phant and ready to torment him, meaning to warn him away,
and allow him to escape at last.

Now the tables were turned. But was she to escape?
While she stood confused, as second'loud boom ! was heard.
The Rajah laid his hand on her arm, and pointed sea-
ward.

“ The Palms ” overlooked Singapore and the bay. There,
out in the oiling, the White sails of the squadron were to be
seen, shining in the sun, as they pointed their bowsprits east-
ward, toward the hidden shores of mysterious Borneo.

“There goes the last of your friends,” said the Red Rajah,
sarcastieally; “ and here comes the first of my enemies."

As he spoke, the sound of horse-hoofs was heard, and the
next minute a group of horsemen rode up the broad gravel
sweep that led to Mr. Earle’s house. Julia Earle was going
to scream for help, but the Rajah checked her with a simple
gesture. He held up the whistle.

“ Be careful, girl,” he said. “ If you want to see them
all krissed in one half-minute, scream.”

Julia was silent. -

“ Now listen,” he continued; “I am going away with
these gentlemen. You may take it into your head to try to

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get, to Singapore, and spread an alarm. Now let me warn
you. There will be fifty men lurking in this jungle till I
come back. They have orders to kriss every living creature
that tries to escape. It is quite an ugly weapon, this kriss,
Miss Earle. Look at it. These wavy lines tear the flesh
terribly. Every man will have one of them. I should re-
gret to have you krissed. It would pain me ineffably. But
if you try to escape, it will happen. Try it, and you’ll see
them all killed before your eyes. A word to the wise.
Now, farewell. I must go and see my friends.”
The Rajah stalked oil to the house, leaving J ulia alone.

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE mace mun.

CLAUDE PEYTON was standing on the steps of the veranda

with three other gentlemen. A group of native servants,
holding several horses, stood on the gravel sweep outside.
The white men were talking together when Don Gregorio
approached them, and turned to meet him at once.
» The don advanced leisurely, scanning the group as he
came. They were all ofi‘lcers of Native Infantry in their
undress uniform; and the brown case which one of them
carried proclaimed the surgeon.

Claude advanced to meet the don with a stately bow.
His turn was coming, he felt. He could not be put down
by this man‘s insolence any longer.

“ Senor Claudio, I salute you,” said Rodriquez, politely.

Claude bowed again; but so slightly, so frigidly, that the
courtesy became almost an insult. Then he turned to the
officers who accompanied him.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “allow me to introduce to you
" Don Gregorio Rodriquez, a Spanish gentleman from Manilla.
He will join our riding party, at his own request. Don
Gregorio, Captain Grey, Captain Manvers, and Dr. Brown.
Captain Manvers has kindly consented to act as your friend,
and show you the country. ”

Ceremonious bows from all the gentlemen.

“I am truly obliged to Capitan Manvairs,” answered the
don, speaking the broken English he affected in company.
The captain bowed again. He was a heavy Indian officer,
renowned for his proficiency in “the code.”

“ Very happy, I'm sure,” he answered, in a deep bass
. voice. “In these matters, I always believe in taking time

by theforelock, gentlemen. The authorities have no time
to interfere. Shall we get to horse? We can arrange our
little matters on the way, you know.”

It is surprising how punctilious a second becomes on his
principal’s behalf, and how anxious to engage. But in this
case both principals were equally anxious. Claude was com-
pletely exasperated; and the don was determined to have re-
venge for the loss the other had made him sustain.

“ I agree with you, captain,” said the Spanish gentleman.
“Which of these horses, may I ask, is intended for me?”

Claude indicated the animal.

“ I thank you, sare,” said Rodriquez.

Then he turned and called out:

. “ Mudal Muda!” _

A little swarthy Malay came from the house, stealthy and
barefoot. It was the don’s servant.

The latter handed him a magnificent kriss and a small
gold-mounted revolver, with which Muda went into the
house.

“ Now, senores, oamorwa,” said the don, gayly, swinging
himself into the saddle, as he spoke; “let us depart. 1 am
in your hands."

Five minutes afterward, Julia Earle, still sitting in the ar-
bor, meditating over her singular position, saw the whole ca-
valcade sweeping down the broad gravel road, on their way
to the jungle outside.

She started up, and hurried to the house, determined to
alarm the servants at any hazard, and make some attempt to
escape to Singapore. ‘

W 0 must leave her, to follow the “ riding party.” As
soon as they were outside the plantation and entered the
jungle, they turned to the left, and took a side road which
led into the back country, along which they rode for some
lint").

(uptain Munvcrs entered into conversation with the prin-
cipals, as to the details of the coming duel. He was de-

 

lighted with the readiness with which the Spaniard accepted
his suggestions.

“ Caro, senor," said Rodriquez; “you s’all arrange heem
as you s’all laike. I put myself in your hand. Vell, den,
you are my second, and vy should I discommode myself till
ve are on de ground?”

“ Don Gregorio," said the captain, “ you are a man after
my own heart, and it’s a pleasure to act for you. I hope I
may have that honor many a time, yet.”

“ Graciela, senor,” returned the Spaniard. “ Ven s‘all ve
get to dis ground?"
“It’s close by, now,” said Manvers. “Grey and I went

out there about a month ago, when he shot Paddy Blake, of
the Fusiliers. Paddy was a good fellow, Don Gregorio; but
Grey sent him home invalided. It’s a sweet little spot of
ground for an affair. Just a nice distance for pistol-shooting,
and the ground smooth as a billiard-table. It’s a pity you
and your friend, there, didn’t choose pistols, don. There‘s
something so neat in popping a man over at ten paces.”

” Eet is not our affair, senor,” interposed the don, with a
polite smile. “ Howevair, I t’ink dat we can manage to keel
each odair with de sword.”

“ I suppose so,” admitted' the captain. “ Well, here we
are. now." I

As he spoke, Captain Grey, who rode with Peyton and
the doctor at the head of the party, wheeled 01f sharp to the
right, down a narrow jungle path, and in five minutes after
the ground was reached.

As Manvers had said, it was a sweet spot for an affair.
A cool, green, grassy glade, about a hundred by fifty yards,
the ground smooth as velvet. A wall of tangled jungle,
matted with twisting ratan, and encircling lofty teak-trees,
shut in the little glade from intrusion. There was no human
habitation within ten miles of the place.

“ Now, then, Manvers,” sung out Captain Grey, “ where
shall we put ’em?”

“Here, I think,” responded the brother-officer. “Keep
the horses back there, or the ground will be all cut up.
Better dismount before we examine it."

The whole party accordingly dismounted from their
horses, which were led off by the syoes to the bottom of the
glade. The two principals stood apart from the rest, buried
in their own thoughts. The doctor retired to a shady spot

under a tree, where he opened his case of instruments, and -

examined them with the cold-blooded pride peculiar to his
amiable profession. The two seconds inspected every inch
of the ground, as carefully as if it had been a croquet-
ground. They fell into little discussions over every lump on
the turf, and finally went into raptures over one particular
place, about fifty feet square.

“Such a place never was seen,” protested Manvers, and
Grey agreed with him.

Now they returned to the side of the glade where their
principals stood.

“Come, gentlemen,” said Manvers, briskly, “we‘re all
ready for you now. Grey has the swords, which we have
measured, and find correct. Will you be pleased to un-‘
dress?”

Claude took off his coat, and handed it to his second,
and the don imitated his example. Vests followed, and
then came the question of searching both parties for con-
cealed armor', according to the practice in these little “ af-
fairs.”

Peyton obviated the necessity in his own ease for search
by stripping off his shirt, and standing there naked to th(
waist. The don preferred to retain his shirt apparently.

Nowvat last everything was-ready. The swords, light,
thin blades, with keen points, were placed in the hands of
the men, and they were conducted to the ground by their
seconds.

The spot selected was admirably smooth. The seconds
had even refrained from stepping on it, for fear of trampling
the surface. Claude felt the elastic turf under his feet, and
took the post assigned to him by Captain Grey.

Now, for the first time, the two men scanned each other
closely, as they stood within ten feét. ,

The seconds retired, and watched their men.

“ By Jove! They’re a splendid match,” Whispered Grey
to Manvers.

And so they were.

Both gentlemen were very nearly equal in hight. The
slight advantage possessed in this respect by the Spaniard
was balanced by the heavier frame of the young Virginian.
Their faces were strikingly different in coloring, but similar
in contour.

-_.

_~:-f-~’pz<v-wm-Mm-e-ww A 

 

 

The Red Rajah. 2'7 '

 

 

 

The florid complexion, brown hair and mustache of Claude,
were contrasted with the dark pale face of the Spanish gen-
tleman, with its intensely black hair eyes. But their pro-
files were both high and aquiline, and their general appear-
ance, when close together, was that of an “ excellent match,”
as the captain said.

Don Gregorio and Claude advanced slowly and cautiously
toward each other, and crossed swords.

In so doing, it seemed, for the first time, the Spaniard‘s
eyes became fixed on Clande’s breast. .

There, tattooed in faint, blue marks, was the mysterious
symbol of the serpent-circled tree.

No sooner did the don see the mark, than his whole de-
meanor changed From a quiet, sneering, impassive gentle-
man, he suddenly became an astounded man, overwhelmed
with some mysterious emotion.

Uttering a sort of cry of horror or terror, he sprung back
several paces, and stood, shaking all over, pointing at Claude
with his left hand.

He was as pale and terror-stricken as a man who had just
seen a ghost. ‘

Claude himself was astonished at the other’s demeanor.
Involuntarin his sword followed that of Rodriquez, and sunk
to the ground, where. the point stayed.

Don Gregorio turned a , gray, ashy face on Captain Man
vers, as he pointed with trembling finger to the young Vir-
ginian.

“Who is that man? What is his name?” he asked, in
low, husky tones.

Captain Manvers was astonished and shocked. Such an
outrage on dueling proprieties had never occurred in his ex-
perience.

‘V‘ Confound it, man!” he answered, angrily, “ you should
have asked these questions before you crossed swords. Do
you want to get out of a fight on the very ground? It can’t
be done, while I am your second.”

The Spaniard appeared hardly to hear him. He turned
to Grey, instead.

“ Oblige me, sir,” he said, hurriedly, and in perfect
English; “ what is this gentleman’s name? I did not know
it. ’1

“ I am at a loss to understand your question, sir,” replied
Grey, haughtily. “What is your object in asking it? I
should recommend my principal to answer it with his sword.
Manvers, I’m afraid Peyton has been trapped into an affair
with a braggart white-feather.” And the English captain’s
lip curled scornfully.

But Don Gregorio did not seem to heed either of them.
He only caughtthe last name.

“Peyton, did you say?" he asked. “Is his name Pey-
ton? They called him Claude.”

Don Gregorio was in a strange state. He hardly seemed
to be in his senses. He stared around him with ashy face,
the drops of sweat pouring from his brow. But Peyton
had recovered from his surprise. He saw in this, like the
oihers, only an attempt to deprive him of satisfaction. He
spoke himself now.

“ My name is Claude Peyton, Don Gregorio Rodriquez.
Claude Peyton it was whom you insulted last night; twice in-
suited, and most grossly. You can not do away with that
now, I can tell you. Raise your sword and defend yourself,
sir. My turn is come.”

Don Gregorio turned round to him.

“ If I had known who you Were, sir,” he said, in a low
voice, but still with a sort of dignity struggling with his evi-
dent agitation, “I should not have said what I did. Ien-
treat you to press this afifair no further.”

“ It is too late, Don Gregorio!” said' the other, fiercely; “do
you think that you can call me a coward, without blood
being shed? I begin to think that some one else is the
coward. Defend yourself, quickly, or I'll run you through."

And be advanced fiercely on the Spaniard. Don Gregorio
dropped his weapon and opened his arms.

“ Stab, then,” he said, quietly; “ I will not fight you."

Claude Peyton trembled all over with passion.

“ Heavens!” he cried; “ how can I stab an unarmed
man? Am I not a Virginian?’ Take up your sword, sir,
or you are no gentleman. What! Are you to insult me,
and then refuse me satisfaction except at the price of an as-
sassination? Take up your sword, I say. You must give
me satisfaction! You owe it asa gentleman, if you were my
own brother. Take up your sword, I say!”

Don Gregorio stood looking at the other with a strange
glance. Claude was boiling with passion. The two cap-
tains were stamping and cursing to each other. They were

 

like the spectators at a prize-fight when one of the men has
sold the fight. They were wild 'with rage. The Spaniard
spoke at last.

“ You have come from Virginia, Mr. Peyton," he said;
“you know the rules of honor. I yield to you. I will
give you satisfaction." ‘

He stood looking at Claude for a moment more, with that
strange look. Then he stooped, and picked up the sword,
and stood on guard.

The Virginian attacked him at once, with all the skill in
fence he was possessed of, and that was considerable. If it
had not been, he would never have chosen the weapons he did.

But he found, to his surprise, that Don Gregorio‘s skill
was greater than his own. His arm was like iron. Again
and again did the Virginian try to pass the bright point, that
remained confronted to him, slight-looking but formidable
barrier.

That point kept quivering in small circles, and partied
every thrust he made, the don standing like a bronze statue.

Captain Manvers rubbed his hands, and observed to Grey:

“ Pretty shaky, things began to look—eh! Grey? But
he fights beautifully now. Look at that figure!”

Claude was compelled to desist after a while, from pure
exhaustion. Three times had he almost run on the don’s
point in hi eagerness, and three times the light prick warned
him back in time.

The Spaniard made no advance on his part, and both par-
ties rested their points on the ground, by mutual consent.

“ Your temper is too quick, Mr. Peyton," observed Don
Gregorio, calmly; “ you fence too fast, and expose yourself
too much." .

Claude frowned angrily, but made no reply. He kept his
breath for the second round. Presently, he was sufiiciently
recovered to resume the fight. This time, he went slowly
and cautiously to work. He had learnt enough of the Span.
iard’s skill to take his advice. He fought warily, and
kept himself well covered. But with all his long-concerted
attacks, he could not puzzle the den.

Every lunge was panied, and that ugly looking point was
constantly arresting further progress, with the cool “ stop-
thrust.” Claude grew wild as he grew weaker, and finally
making a desperate lunge, slipped and fell to the ground.

But Don Gregorio never ofl’ered to molest him while he
lay there. He simply drew back, and rested his sword on
the ground

Claude scrambled to his feet and stood panting. He felt
inexpressibly mortified. His life had been in the-Spaniard's
power, and he had been spared. Don Gregorio again ad-
dressed him, in his sad, deep voice.

“ Are you not satisfied yet? Will nothing but my blood
content you? Look here, Mr. Peyton; I have shown these
gentlemen that it was not fear that actuated me just now.
I apologize for my words. You are no coward. Will you

let this matter drop?"
Claude was a generous fellow, as we know.

“ The quarrel was not of my seeking, Don Gregorio,”
he said; “I am satisfied.”

And he threw down his sword on the grass.

Then the don turned round to Captain Manvers, and his
manner changed instantly. He became as coolly insolsnt as
he had been forbearing and generous. “ Captain Manvers,"
he said, “ you were good enough to insinuate sevoral things
against my courage just now. Be pleased to take up that
sword, and I will show you in five minutes that an English
bully is the last person in the world that I fear.”

And, as he spoke, he struck the astounded captain a back-
handed blow across the mouth with his left hand, that started
the “ claret."

‘ Manvers gave a sort of roar of rage, and rushed for the
sword, with which he flew at the Spaniard. Rodriquez gave
but one long, straight lunge, and the unhappy Englishman
fell to the earth. run through the throat, and choking in
death.

The sudden impromptu duel took place so suddenly, that
neither Claude nor Grey could interfere between the slap,
the clash of swords, and-the final stab.

The Spaniard seemed transformed into a demon, as he
wrenched the bloody steel away from Manvers’ body. He
turned fiercely on Grey, who stood aghast, at half-scared
spectator of the sudden slaughter of his brother-officer.

“ And you, too, sir?" he snarled. “ Braggart white-
feather were the words you used. Stand up to it, English
dog, or die like one!" -

Captain Grey was a brave man, but he turned pale before
the concentrated ferocity of the Spaniard’s glance. How-

 

 

In
t
l

 

28 The Red Rajah.

 

 

ever, he felt that he could not refuse the challenge. He
picked up the sword fallen from Manvers' hand, and stood
on his defense.

Claude stood dumbfounded at the sudden change of events.
What or who was this strange being, so soft and gentle to
him, so ferocious to others?

He saw Grey take off his coat and vest hurriedly, and
throw them down, after which he stood on his defense.

The combat was plainly unequal. Grey was overmatched
and knew it. Rodriquez towered many a foot above him,
for the Englishman was a small man. He made no feints.
Only strong, straight lunges, one after the other, all aimed
at the throat, and following one another so rapidly that the
captain was compelled to back out of the contest, retreat
being the only way to keep those lunges out. But as they
came, fierce and fast, each one came nearer, and poor Grey
was beaten back, back, back, till at last the sharp point was
buried in his throat. ’ '

Then Don Gregorio laid down the bloody sword beside the
corpse of his second victim, and turned to Claude.

“ You see, sir, I was not afraid.”

Claude looked at him with wonder.

“ In the name of God. who are you?” he ejaculated.

The Spaniard took from his pocket a small gold whistle
which he held up to the other.

“ You see that. You shall be answered in a moment.”

He blew a loud, shrill whistle. Instantly there was a rus-
tle in the jungle, and two hundred wild-looking Malays burst
in upon the scene, surrounding the frightened horseholders
‘with bare krisses.

The Spaniard drew himself up to his full hight, and
pointed to the scarlet dresses of his men.

“ Do you know me now?" he asked. “ Do you wonder
that I insulted you for stealing my Marguerite? You may
thank the taboo mark on your breast that saved you from
death this day, for I am the Red Rajah.”

 

CHAPTER XIX.
aroma awn.

WHEN the Red Rajah had announced himself in his true
character, to Claude Peyton, with all his band around him,
the Virginian was thunderstruck. He stood staring, unable
to speak, for some minutes.

While he hesitated, the Rajah addressed some orders, in
Malay, to his band. Instantly the trembling gym, or
grooms, who held the horses, were seized, along with the
amazed Doctor Brown, who expected to be murdered.

Inside of two minutes the whole posse were bound hand
and foot, and laid in the middle of the glade, while the Ra-
jah was calmly dressing.

Claude Peyton stood wondering, and expecting every mo-
ment to be served the same way as the rest. But to his sur-
prise, no one oflered to touch him. The mysterious taboo
sign which had saved his life from the Papuan cannibals
seemed to spread its aegis over him everywhere.

He stood wondering at everything, when the Rajah, erect
and precise in his attire as ever, stepped up to him and ad-
dressed him. He did not attempt any more broken English
now.

“ Mr. Peyton,” he said, gravely and politely, “ you are
safe from harm; but you must give me your word of honor,
as a Virginian gentleman, that you will not try to leave this
glade until sunset. Otherwise I must bind you, too.”

Claude was forced to submit; but his curiosity induced

him to ask a question.
_ “ Tell me, sir, one thing, if you please. What is there in
this mark on my breast that has such a marvelous influence
on all the world! Among the savages it saved my life, un-
Lder the War-club. Here it seems equally powerful. What
is the spell?"

"Mr. Peyton,” replied the other, with a grave smile, “it
is an old saying full of sense, ‘ Take the goods the gods pro-
vide.’ Ask me no questions. Remember, on your word as
a gentleman, you are to stay here till sunset. After that
you may loose your companions. Attempt to leave before,
and even my power will not prevent your death by the
krisses of my men. One word more of advice. You went
to seek the Red Rajah. Take care that you do not follow
him again. The taboo tree will not protect you next time.”

 

He bowed and turned away. The horses on which the
dueling party had come to the glade were brought forward,
and the Rajah mounted.

“Farewell, Mr. Peyton," he said, courteously.

Then the little cavalcade swept out of the glade at a gal-
lop. The footmeu disappeared in the jungle. Claude Pey-
ton was left all alone in the glade to his own thoughts.

“ Not alone, though,” he said to himself, as he watched
the rueful countenances of his bound companions. There
they lay, as helpless as trussed turkeys. tied hand and foot,
each man with a gag thrust into his mouth. And Claude
was bound in honor not to touch them. And why not?
He was perfectly free and unfettered. He could untie them
with perfect case. No.

A trifle, light as air, withheld him. A cobweb thread
that a breath would part.

And yet, to him, it was a chain cable of steel. The im-
palpable sentiment of honor was to him an impassable bar-
rier between him and them.

His life had been spared by that Red Rajah, whom he had
only heard stigmatized as a bloody pirate. He had been
spared several times, when the other held him completely in
his power. His honor had been relied on by that other,
when bonds would have made him safe.

Claude Peyton, walked quietly over to where his discarded
garments lay, and slowly dressed himself. He did not dare
to look round at his companions, for fear of their appealing
glances to him.

When he had dressed, he walked around the glade once,
peering into the jungle to see if any one was left to spy upon
him. Not a soul was to be seen.

He returned to his companions, and dragged them out of
the hot sun, one after another, under the shade of a lofty
teak tree. Then he untied the gag which confined the doc-
tor‘s mouth, and explained matters to the worthy physician.
Luckily for all parties, there was a considerable stock of
cheroots in Claude’s pockets, and he and the doctor were
enabled to pass away the time till sunset in talking and
smoking.

At last they heard the well-known evening gun booming
from the casemates of Fort St. John.

“ Hurrah!” cried the doctor, feebly. “Now we get off
at last."

“ Thank Godl” ejaculated Peyton.

He produced his knife in a minute, and cut the doctor’s
bonds. The two together very soon freed the 831m, and
were ready to depart.

“ We must get out of here as soon as possible,” said Doc-
tor Brown, hurriedly. “The whole jungle is full of tigers
after dark, and we are not safe a minute.”

The adee was so obviously sound that it did not need
to be repeated. The dead bodies of the two unfortunate
officers were necessarily left. They could not stay a mo-
ment. Picking up only the two dueling sWords, which had
been left behind, the whole party ran off by the jungle path,
as hard as they could go; and never halted till they reached
the road by which they came in the morning.

But their dangers were not over yet. In the jungle all
round them they could hear the answering roars of roaming
tigers. Doctor Brown, who was a short, puffy man, with
red mutton-chop whiskers, was quite blown with his run.

“ By Jove, Peyton l” he ejaculated, “ we must walk a bit.
I’m blessed if I can get any further at this pace.”

The cowardly 81/868 were too much afraid to remain with
the doctor, and they were not much to blame. All unarm-
‘ed as they were, they could make no resistance, should a
tiger appear. While they continued their wild race to Singa-
pore, Claude and the doctor came on slowly behind, each
armed with a sword.

It was nervous work on that dark jungle road. The twi-
light was so short that it seemed as if day turned intd night
in a moment.

They could hear the tigers all round them, coming cloer
and closer to the road.

“ Shall we ever get to Singapore?” asked Doctor Brown,
apprehensively, as a roar within a quarter of a mile made
him shiver.

“Not tonight,” replied Claude, cheerfully. “ Here we
are at the edge of Mr. Earle’s jungle patch, and we shall be
safe in a few minutes more.”

They turned down the broad gravel road that led to “ The
Palms,” as he spoke. Doctor Brown felt doubly thankful
that they had left the last roar behind them, and that they
were approaching a human habitation.

They walked rapidly along the broad white road that


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The Red Raj ah. £9

 

 

gleamed through the darkness. The moon had not risen
and the stars were yet hidden in the evening mists. Claude
felt a strange beating at his heart. Some calamity, he felt
sure, had happened. The glimpse he had had of the Red
Rajah‘s character made him certain that that Chieftain would
not leave empty-handed. Marguerite was gone certainly.
As the thought crossed him, a spasm of pain convinced
the young man how he had grown to love the little island
princess. V

“Ah!” he groaned to himself, “if I had taken her to
Pondicherry this would never have happened. But I did it
for the best.”

And it was true. In a vessel belonging where it did, he
could do no less than come to Singapore. Who would ever
have supposed that a Malay sea-robber would have been able
to hoodwink Europeans as he had?

“ The man is no Malay, that is plain,” said Claude,
aloud.

“ What man?" demanded the doctor, who thought he was
addressed.

“ The Red Rajah.”

“Malay? Never!” said the doctor, who was an ethno-
logist in his tastes: “no Malay ever bore a face and figure
like him. The man’s either an Englishman or an American,
or else he’s the devil himself. Why, Peyton, what’s this?
What's the matter here .9"

As he spoke, they entered the garden and beheld Mr.
Earle’s house before them, every door and window wide
open, and a perfect illumination at every opening.

“ Do they have a ball here to-night?" asked the doctor,
nervously; “ for, if so, we look pretty objects, I must say.”

Claude made no answer, except to rush across the garden

and up the piazza steps. The house was still and silent.

Into the dining-room ran Claude. Fifty wax candles, stuck
into every nook and corner, made a perfect blaze of light.
But the room' was empty. He rushed from room to room,
followed by- the doctor, shouting in vain for the servants.
No one answered. Every door was opened. Lamps and
candles blazed everywhere. The illumination only revealed
the emptiness.

In the midst of his agitation the idea of an enchanted
palace flashed over Claude’s mind and made him laugh to
himself. But the wizard who had made the enchantment
could only be one man, the Red Rajah.

At last he went into the drawing-room, which was lighted
up more brilliantly than the other, and in a recklpssly ex~
travagant manner.

Mr. Earle‘s best wax and spermaceti candles were stuck
upright; in little pools of grease, all over the polished piano
top. The center-table was covered with them, and every
available place was occupied.

But, what attracted most attention was that in the cen-
ter of the room a Dyak spear was stuck upright in the floor,
and attached to the butt was a large paper.

“ The explanation of the mystery,” said Claude, as he
snatched the paper and proceeded to read it, with the won-
der-struck Doctor Brown.

It ran thus:

“ The Red Rajah to Eark, Hashim d: 00 .'

“Your senior partner, with seven other merchants, char-
tered a brig to make war on me. You burnt my house and
took my child when I was away. Now I have taken your
head mu! his daughter and hold t em. One million of dollars
in gold is their ransom. '

“ If it is not paid within one month they shall both die.

“ PA’I‘ONG RAJAH,
“ Known as ‘ The Red.’ ”

“ That’s a pretty document to have in a gentleman’s
house,” ejaculated Doctor Brown. “What’s to be done,
Peyton?”

“ We must get to Singapore somehow, to-night," said the
Virginian, briskly, “if We have to do it on foot."

“My dear fellow! Impossible!” cried the prudent doc-
tor; " there are tigers enough about to eat up a whole family
of men like me.”

“ We can find arms,” said Claude, hurriedly; “it must
be done. The desperate villain has carried off every living
soul in the house, I do believe. There’s not a sign of a hu-
man being anywhere.”

“ What's that?" cried the doctor, starting; "there’s some
one in that cupboard.”

Claude bounded toward the place indicated. It was a
small press or cupboard behind the piano corner, devoted to
music books. The door was half open, and a slight move-
ment was perceptible. '

 

 

There was a terrified cry as the Virginian advanced. He
soon emerged from the cupboard, holding by the collar is
small Malay boy, whom Claude recognized as Julia Earle’s
favorite page.

The child was wild-eyed with terror, but a few kind words
from Claude convinced him that no harm was intended him.

In time he recognized the Virginian, and began to sob and
cry, and pour forth a flood of impassioned Malay, telling of
the adventures of that terrible day.

Claude questioned him very closely, and soon managed to
elicit from him the outlines of the following story.

0 H A P T E R X X.
'rnn men's sronr.

THE story of the page was short and simple.

“About noon of that same day, a quantity of men on
horseback had surrounded the house. Missy Julia and Missy
Marguerite were in the drawing-room, when the men came.
The tall Sahib who had come there yesterday was at their
head. Missy Julia was crying. He, little Ismail, was
frightened at the looks of the men, but the rest of the ser-
vants did not seem to care. They went out to welcome the
Sahib. The Sahib staid in the drawing-room with Missy

Julia and Missy Marguerite for some time. Then he came.

out and issued orders to his men. Most of them went away,
and the house was quite quiet for some time. At four
o’clock Mr. Earle came home. The tall Sahib received him,
but the young ladies had gone to their rooms. While the
Sahib was talking with Mr. Earle on the porch, he, Ismail,
crept into the drawing-room, and hid himself in the music—
closet, to listen. The Sahib came back and brought Mr.
Earle into the drawing-room. Mr. Earle looked frightened,
and the tall Sahib spoke as if he was 9. Rajah, and the other's
master.

“ After Mr. Earle‘s arrival, the men began to come back,

and the Sahib went out on the porch. Mr. Earle, in the‘

drawing-room, walked up and down, and cried out:

“ ‘Oh! my poor child! my poor child! A robber, a pi-
rate! How shall I ever pay him? What shall I do? How
I have been deceived!‘

“ Then the Sahib came back into the room, and said:

“ ‘ Come, Mr. Earle, the prahus are waiting in the creek.’

“ And Mr. Earle began to beg the Sahib to let him ofi'.
But the Sahib stamped his foot, and said in a terrible
voice: ‘

“ ‘Am I a fool, old man? Your squadron is gone, but
it may be back. You may write to your house for the mo-
ney. You may send letters to your friends to get it. But
you must come with me now. I give you fifteen minutes to
get ready.’ .

“And then the Sahib went outside again, and Ismail

heard the roll of wheels, as if several carriages were coming
up. And pretty seen Missy Marguerite came in, with Missy
Julia.

“ And Missy Julia'ran to her father and kissed him, and
they cried together.

“ Then the Sahib came in and spoke' to them, and Missy
Marguerite she get angry, and say:

“ ‘Very well, my lord. Then I will never love you any
more. You have deceived me again.’

“And the Sahib he frowned, and stamped his foot, and
said:

“ ‘Be it so,’ quite angrily. ' ‘

“And after some more talk, every one left, and Ismail
heard them getting into the carriages. He peeped out of‘the
window and saw that they had harnessed up all Mr. ‘Earle's
horses to his different carriages and carts, and they were all
driving away, out through the back road."

“What back road?" interrupted Claude.

“ The road to the creek," said the boy. “ It goes through
the jungle, and comes out on the back of the island."

“ And after they had gone, who lighted all these?" asked
Claude, pointing to the candles.

“After they went,” said the boy, “I was going through
the house, when I heard voices in the garden. Soon after,
the strange men came back, some of them, and came into
this room. I hid myself before they came, and I heard them
talking about a Rajah, and how they were to go off to meet
him at night. Then they went down into the cellar, and

‘ _. g___n‘.s tha‘ -‘vg‘nm‘b‘. v

$.19. ‘.‘

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30 The Red Raj ah.

 

 

came back with several bottles of wine, and began to drink.
They staid till nearly sunset, when one of them said:

“ ‘It is time to obey my lord‘s orders.’

"Then they went into the store-room, and brought out
six boxes of candles, and began to light them, and stick them
everywhere, till the sun set, and we heard the gun in the
harbor. Then one of them stuck that spear into the floor,
where you see it, and put the paper on the top.

“Then they Went away and l was left alone. It grew
dark outside, and it was so silent here, I was afraid to come
out. I feared that the tigers were coming, too. So I staid
here, till I heard more voices, and you came in, Sahib, and
I thought I was to be killed, surely.”

Claude pondered over this story for several minutes. It

was evident that the Red Rajah had laid his plans carefully.
He must have bribed all the servants, except this boy, by
some means. Where were they now? How had this an-
dacious pirate contrived to get the prisoners away, and where
had he fled to?

Claude turned to the doctor.

“ Doctor," he said, “ l must go to the city at once. The
squadron has gone, but the prahu I took from that Rajah
lies there still, with a Gatling gun on board. I must be off
after him this very night."

" “ But how will you get to Singapore to-night?" asked the
amazed doctor. “The road’s all full of tigers."

“ There must be some weapons left in the house," said
Claude. “They‘ve not stripped any of the rooms, I see, and
there must be some in mine. Here, Ismail, are there any
horses left in the stables?"

“There is one, Sahib," answered the boy, respectfully.
“I heard the men telling of him. No one could mount him,
he was so fierce. It is the black stallion they call Man-
killer.”

“I remembbr him,” said Claude; “ it’s. the little. vicious
Arab, doctor. ‘Well, vicious or kind, I must ride him.
Come along, doctor. 1 must leave you to take care of the
house. Ha! listen to that!"

The roar of a tiger, CIOSC to the front of the house, made
them start. Claude ran down to the porch, and caught sight
of the striped body, creeping along over the gravel walk.
He shouted loudly, and the beast turned, and bounded into
the bushes. Then they closed all the doors and windows on
the lower floor, to keep out such intruders. Ismail was sent
tip-stairs to put out the lights, while Claude proceeded to arm
himself. ,

He found his room quite undisturbed, except for the illu-
mination. His weapons stood in the press in the corner of
the room. Not so much as an article of jewelry had been
taken, though a diamond pin stood in the center of the pin-
cushion. -

Certainly, the Red Rajah robbed like a prince, not like a
pickpocket.

Claude put on a belt, with a pair of revolvers, slung his
trusty Winchester rifle at his back, and lighted a lantern. '

Then he called the doctor and Ismail, and the three sallied
forth. to the stable. The doctor carried adark lantern, which
he kept closed by Claude‘s advice. When they get near the
stable they again saw the tiger. The doctor flashed his
lantern in the beast’s face, and the three raised a how], which
scared it away a second time. So they reached the stable in
safety, opened the door and entered.

The long stable, so commodious, nay. luxurious in its
arrangements, was empty. There were sixteen stalls, and
not a horse in one of them.

“Where‘s the Mankiller, Ismail?” asked Peyton. “You
said they had not taken him.”

“ No more they did," the boy averred. “I heard them
talkingabout him to the Sahib, and he told them not to
bathe with him; they could not spare the time, he said. So
theyleft him in the loose box at the end of the stable. ”

Claude proceeded accordingly to the loose box at .the end.
and opened the door. When he looked in, he started back
with surprise. The outer door of the loose box was open,
and the same identical tiger was looking in at the horse.
The stallion was crouched up in a corner of the box, tremb-
ling violently, and glaring at the tiger, wild with terror. In-
voluntarin Claude leveled the pistol he carried in his hand,
and fired at the tiger. The bullet missed, but the flash scared
the animal for the third time, and he disappeared. Claude
Went up to the horse.

Mankiller was a noted Tartar in the stable, and among
Ma .' grooms. Claude had heard of his kicking a ayes, or
,groomfio death, and tearing another with his teeth. But

 

the horse’s spirit was quite subdued with terror, now. He
allowed the Virginian to pat and soothe him, and lead him
out of the loose box into the stable. lie was only too glad
of human companionship.

Claude saddled and bridled the stallion without difficulty,
armed himself with a heavy whip and sharp spurs, and pre-
pared to set out on his dangerous ride.

Sallying out, he found the moon just rising, and, accom-
panied by the doctor and Ismail, Went toward the house.
Mankiller kept close to him. The horse had been completely
scared by the appearance of the tiger at the open door.

“ Now, doctor,” said the Virginian, at the porch, “ I must
bid you farewell. Keep the house close till morning. Good-
by.”

He turned the head of the Arab stallion, dug in the spurs,
and flew ofl’ along the jungle path at full speed. He did not
dare to ride slow. The roars of numerous tigers convinced
him that he must do his best to get to the high-road un-
scathed.

Mankiller seconded his efforts, wild with terror. He tore
along at such a pace that the trees seemed to whiz by. In
half a minute he had reached the highway, and was rushing
along it, at full speed, toward the distant lights of Singa-
pore.

It was not more than eight o’clock yet, Peyton remembered,
and most of the people would be up. Mankiller went mag-
nificently, never abating his speed in the least for more than
two miles; and after that the spur and whip kept him to his
work, till he was close to Singapore. When at last Claude
rode into the streets of the city, the vice was gone from Man-
killer—drivcn out by excessive fatigue.

Peyton rode up to the Governor’s house, and sent in word
that he must see his excellency.

 

C H A P T E R X X I .
THE BLOODHOUND.

Hrs excellency the Governor could hardly believe his ears,
when he heard the American’s story. What? The Red Ra-
jah, a mere Malay piratical rover, to beard the representa-
tives of insulted England! Carry off a British merchant
from under the British flag! The Governor was astounded
at his audacity!

Then Claude told of the false Don Gregorio, and the way
in which he had fooled every one, and the Governor made
use of some very strong language regarding the aforesaid
don.

“Why, sir, he brought a letter to me from the Governor
of Manilla, the Viceroy of all the Philippines, recommending
this Don Gregorio as a polished gentleman—and so, by Jove,
he was lsat and chatted with him for an hour at least.
Splendidly read man! And to think that the blackguard
should be nothing but a Malay pirate, after all.”

“ He’s no Malay, Governor," said Peyton, decisively.
“ The man’s a European who has got control over the
natives in some way, a sort of bad Rajah Brooke. V\ hat’s
to be done '5“

“ That’s the rub," said Sir Thomas Roberts. “The infer-
nal villain has chosen his time well. All the squadron is
away but the guardship, and she’s a‘clumsy old tub, not fit
to go to sea. ”

“Then I must get to sea myself, in the captured prahu,"
said Peyton, decisively. “ She’s the only thing that can come
up with him. I have one of the large Gatling guns aboard,
and all I want is a crew, provisions and ammunition. If
your excellency will give me a detail from the crew of the
Thunderbolt, i will wager to come up with the fellow at last."

But-his excellency could not see this. He had no objec-
tion to sending an ofllcer in command of a detail, but he
could not put British sailors under the command of an
American.

80 Claude was forced to depend on himself for his expe-
dition.

He went down to the harbor to look for the prahu. He
found her still there, under the charge of a half-dozen Malay
sailors. They told him that the strange prahu-yacht had
hauled out and run out to see, about four o’clock in the after-
noon, openly joining a fleet of 1 ten or twelve large prahus of
the same appearance; and that all of them steered eastward,
right in the track of the squadron that left in the morning.

a!

 

»

 

The Red Raj ah. 31

 

 

It was too late that- night to do any thing. Claude had
determined to trust to his own resources and those of the
merchants of Singapore. He put up the horse at a livery
stable for the night, and retired to the prahu himself.

In the morning he started out to see the different mer-
chants in regard to his expedition. Imagine his astonish-
ment, when he found that “ The Palms " was not the only
villa that had suffered on the night previous.

Blathers and MeGrowl, Skinner and Biggs, each of these
houses had suffered the loss of their senior partner, carried
ofi in (lead of night from his villa.

In each of their counting-rooms was found a notice, much
of the same purport as that which had been left at Mr. Etu‘le’s.

Three hundred thousand pounds altogether was demanded
for a ransom, to be left in a. certain spot specified, within
three weeks, on pain of death to the hostages. The spot
mentioned, was on a small island to the north of Gilolo, and
the money was to be in gold. ,

Each notice contained a warning against treachery, which
would be infallibly found out.

There was of course intense excitement throughout Singa-
pore, when this news spread, as it did with marvelous
rapidity.

There was no question of paying the ransom. Claude
was begged to go out after the piratt.‘ at once. Provisions
and water, with abundance of ammunition, both for the Gat-
ling gun and the small-arms, was hustled on board the swift
prahu in short order. Sailors from every ship in the harbor
were offered by their captains, but Claude chose to have
none but Americans, on whom he could rely.

Before eleven o’clock in the forenoon, so great was the
exertion used, Claude Peyton sailed out of the harbor on the
captured prahu, ready for action. He had a crew of forty
American sailors, many of them old men-of—war’s men.
Each of them carried a brace of navy revolvers and a cut-
lass, besides a breech-loading rifle.

On its pivot, in the center of the connecting platform
betWeen the two boats, grinned the formidable one-inch Gat-
ling gun, the most murderous implement of destruction
known to modern warfare.

The prahu was christened “Bloodhound,” and swift and
stanch was she, as her prototype.

A fine. breeze was blowing, when the Bloodhound went
skimming out of Singapore harbor, cutting the waves like a
knife. Peyton trod the deck with proud confidence. He
knew that he was on board the swiftest vessel of the pirate
fleet, one capable of outsailing any thing afloat, except, per-
haps, the Rajah’s yacht.

The Bloodhound had evidently been used as a dispatch
boat by the pirates, for her model was so keen and her
framing so light that she could not have stood the recoil of
a gun of any size. But the admirable qualities of the Gat-
ling gun rendcred it particularly fitted for use on such a
vessel, sending a stream of heavy bullets, with little more
recoil than that of a heavy duck gun. So that Claude felt
perfectly at ease in the event of a battle with the pirates.

As soon as he was out of the harbor he directed his
course to the north-east. up the Straits of Malacca. He felt
sure that the Rajah would make for Pondicherry first.
Why, he could hardly explain. But it was the home of
Marguerite, and he had an idea that the Rajah would take
her there.

“ If he had not promised to do so,” thought Claude, “the
child would hardly have kept his secret for him. He has
deceived her in some manner, or she wou.d not have gone
with him. ”

With these thoughts he directed the head of the prahu to
be laid straight up the center of the Malacca Channel.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
THE onus: FOUND.

In due course of time the.Bloodhound hove in sight of
Pondicherry, where she created quite a sensation. Peyton
bore letters to the Governor,.and learned from him that his
suspicions were correct.

A strange millionaire, in a yacht of most splendid appear-
ance, and unusual rig, had come to the town, representing
himself as a rich planter from Java.

He bore letters from the Governor of Batavia, represent-
ing him as Baron Cortlandt, and had with him a very beau-

tiful young lady, whom he introduced as his ward, so to

 

speak, having rescued her from shipwreck, and protected her
ever since.

This young lady proved to be the daughter of the Marquis
de Favannes, whose loss at sea, some two years previous,
had been so mysterious. Her aunt, Madame de Choiseul,
was a second cousin of the Governor’s wife, and had resided
at Pondicherry for many years.

What arguments the baron had used the Governor did
not know, and he shrugged his shoulders with the true French
grimace.

“You know, monsieur, how it is. Madame de Choiseul
is poor and noble. This baron was a millionaire. Any
way, he prevailed upon her to depart with him, and they
went yesterday morning. You seem to be very anxious to
see them, monsieur.”

When Claude had told him the whole history, the Gover-
nor was surprised beyond measure. To think that'such a
polite man, such a perfect gentleman should be a pirate!
The Governor was amazed! He was desolated with grief at
the fate of his friend, Madame de Choiseul. As for the
demoiselle, he supposed that she must have become attached
to this pirate. Ma for?! he was a splendid fellow.

Claude did not stay longer at Pondicherry than to pay his
visit to the Governor. He weighed anchor on receipt of the
news, and started for the Straits of Sunda. He felt sure that
the Rajah would go back to his old haunts.

But he passed through the straits, skirted the shores of
Borneo, and sailed up to the Soc-loo Islands, and yet. heard
no tidings of the missing ones.

He arrived in the midst of the haunts of the pirates, and
found every place deserted. The ashes of the different
villages showed the track of the squadron, which had de-
parted some time before. It had accomplished its mission
on land, but where was its enemy on the sea?

Claude overhauled every trading-junk or prahu he met,
but no one had seen any thing of the pirates. For once, in
a long period. of time, the Malay seas were safe. With the
disappearance of the Red Rajah peace seemed to have settled
everywhere.

Claude hunted the seas over for several weeks, to no pur-
pose, till it struck him as wise to proceed to the rendezvous,
or place where the pirate chief had ordered the ransoms to
be sent.

When he was nearing Gilolo, he descried several white
sails on the horizon, which he gladly recognized as those of
the men of war.

In a very few hours he was in the midst of the squadron,
and in some danger of being sunk.

The men of war fired several shots at him to bring him
to, thinking him to be one of the pirates, and it was not un-
til the prahu had been boarded by a boat from the French
steamer “ Charlemagne,” that Claude succeeded in proving
his identity.

He found the squadron strengthened by the arrival of the

’ frigate “ Comanche,” Captain Pendleton, under orders to
cruise after pirates, in conjunction with the English, French, ,

and Dutch vessels.

From Pendleton Claude learned what luck the squadron
had had. They had found the piratieal islands entirely de-
serted, without a vestige of any thing living, the houses in
the villages standing empty.

They had tired all these, and destroyed the rice crops,
when Pendleton arrived from Singapore 'to join them, bring-
ing the news of the Rajah’s audacious raid on that place.
They were all ordered to wait and cruise around Gilolo, to
pounce upon any of the pirates who should venture near the
place after the ransom.

Claude could do nothing better than stay with them.
His fleet vessel was admirably adapted for an outlying scout
to the squadron, and was so employed. A signal mid-
shipman, with the necessary rockets, was detailed to attend
the Bloodhound, in case of seeing the enemy, to inform the
fleet.

But in vain did the squadron cruise around Gilolo. Not
a sign of the sharp lateen sails was to be seen. On the third
day after Claude’s arrival, the distant smoke of a steamer
was visible, coming toward them. She proved to be the
opium packet “Thunderbolt,” with letters from Singapore.

The letters caused universal excitement and consterna-
tion.

The mysterious Red Rajah had been at Singapore again,
or else had agents there. The right can of two of the cap
tive Singapore merchants had been found in the letter‘box of
the Governor’s house, with letters from the unhappy gentle

 

my '1‘ .

 

 

 

32 I The-“Red Rajah.

 

men themselves. They implored their partners to pay the
ransom quickly, as the notices directed. They entreated
them not to try and fight the Rajah, who was all-powerful,
as they, the writers, would have to suffer the penalty.

Annexcd to these was a proclamation from the Rajah
himself.

He announced that in three days more the left ears of the
captives would be sent, unless the ransom was on its way to
the appointed spot; and so on, successively, till the whole of
their bodira should have been out piecemeal. I

The mysterious sending of this dispatch had dreadfully
surprised the merchants. '1 hey had come to the conclusion
to pay the ransom at once, and take their chances of cap-
turing the pirates who came after it.

To this end they had taken up a subscription among all
the principal inhabitants of the place, and dispatched three
hundred thousand pounds in gold in the Thunderbolt, to he
landed at the island and left on the beach.

There was great indignation among the captains of the
men of war when the “cowardly surrender," as they called
it, of the Singapore merchants was known. They had ex-
pected a fight, instead of which, money was to release the
captives.

Orders arrived from the commander-in-chief at Singapore
‘ 10 leave Gilolo and come back, and the English and French
vessels obeyed the orders of their representatives. The
Comanche was the only vessel left on the station, for the
merchants had sent a peremptory recall to the “Avenger,”
in which Claude had come there first. But Peyton himself,
with the Bloodhound, was independent. He had determined
to cruise about till he found the Red Rajah and rescued
Marguerite, if it took him years. Her last words as heard
by Ismail: “ I do not love you any more. You have deceived
me again," still rung in his ears. He was resolved to stay
there.

The sensation of cruising in a swift prahu, able to over-
haul any thing in the way, was delightful. Claude scoured
the Celebes sea all day and all night, and next morning was
gladdened with the sight of the clumsy mat sails of a
Chinese junk, with a strange prahu close to her.

When the look-out, perched on the end of the lofty la-
teen yard, gave warning of this fact, it was just dawn of day.

Peyton rushed out of the little deck cabin and gave an
involuntary shout of joy. There was no mistaking the cut
of the other’s sails. She was a piratical prahu, low and
black, with enormous spread of yard. The two vessels were
about a mile off, and alongside of each other. There was
very little wind, and what there was, was dead astcrn of the
Bloodhound, which was slipping through the water at about
eight knots an hour.

Peyton went forward and watched the vessels, while his
men were tumbling up to quarters.

The Bloodhound cut through the Water with such rapidity,
that tWo minutes more would have brought her up to the
enemy; when the crew of the strange prahu suddenly seemed
to perceive her, for that vessel parted company with the junk
and sailed out.

It was evidently the pirate’s intention to fight. Peyton
could see the crew mustering on the bamboo fighting-deck.
They were the men he was in search of, in their scarlet
sarong» and jackets, armed with spears, muskets, and krisses.

Claude Peyton rubbed his hands gleefully.

“ Now I have you, scoundrels!" he muttered, and the
Bloodhound rushed fiercely to the contest. The stranger
was a large, heavy prahu with an outrigger, but by no means
of the swift and graceful build of the Bloodhound.

That the latter was recognized as an enemy was evident
from the vengeful yells of the Malays.

Now the Bloodhound was within a quarter of a mile of
the enemy when down went the pirate’s masts and sails.
The Malays always fight under bare poles, using their sweeps.

Then the strange prahu yawed, and fired a broadside from
four (elm or brass swivel guns, full at the Bloodhound.
The grape and canister came crushing and tearing through
the slight buiWarks of the little vessel, and tore her foresail
considerably, besides wounding several men.

Claude held on his course without firing a shot till within
two hundred yards of the pirates, when he hove to.

His turn had come.

The terrible mitrailleur was trained full upon the pirates,
and the storm of balls went crushing through the defenses
of the strange prahu, a rain of death pouring on the un-
happy Malays. ‘ At such a short range the mitrailleur does
its ghastly work to perfection. Peyton trained the piece
and veered it from side to side, while two of his men turned

 

. ‘5‘

 

the crank and poured in cartridges. From the moment he
opened his tire, not a shot was returned from the pirates,
The storm of death was too pitiless and unceasing to be faced.
The Malays had expected an easy victory. They found an
all-powerful and implacable foe. in two minutes the fight-
ing deck was cleared of its occupants, those who were left alive
leaping overboard with yells of terror. The oars were de-
serted in another minute. No living man could stand to his
work amid such a. hail of bullets. The victory was com-
plete and decisive, and three cheers from the Americans
proclaimed it, as they filled their foresail and sWept down
once more upon the deserted craft.

The water was full of swimmers trying to escape. Claude
tried to save some of them, but the effort was vain. So im-
placable is the ferocity of a Malay pirate that he prefers
death to safety at the hands of his enemy. Several of the
sailors who tried to rull their enemies out of the water ex-
perienced severe wounds from Ihe latter, the desperate
wretches striking at them with their krisses as they grasped
them.

Such is Malay nature. It rushes on death with eagerness,
but flees from its guns under a heavy fire. It desires only
tangible revenge, and prefers the kriss to the musket.

Claude was compqlled to let them all drown, while he
boarded the prahu. He found her full of dead and dying
Malays. Here the same implacable spirit manifested itself.
Men at the last gasp from loss of blood crawled like snakes
across the deck to stab at the American sailors. In self-de-
fense they were obliged to shoot all the wounded and cast
them overboard with the dead.

Huddled up in the corner of the cabin they found a
woman, who proved easier to deal with. When Claude had
assured her in Malay that she was safe, her gratitude was
boundless.

She was a slave, she said, a captive from a Chinese junk
who had been assigned the property of the chief in com-
mand of the prahu just taken.

Claude questioned her closely as to the whereabouts of the
Red Rajah. She informed him that they had left the fleet
only three days before, off the island of Gilolo, where the
Rajah had been cruising to watch the movements of the
great fire prahus of the white man.

“Every night he used to sail close in,” she told him,
“ to count the numbers of the enemy; and when the ‘ Bu-
rong ’ (the prahu just taken) left, there was strong talk of
attacking the ship left alone, now that the others had gone.”

“ I hope they will do it," said Claude, when he heard the
news. “ This Red Rajah will learn a lesson, if he tries to
attack Pendleton. Come, Mr. Scott, we must be ofl now.
Take half of the men and this captured vessel and we‘ll sail
for Gilolo."

“ Hadn’t we better examine yonder junk first?" said Tom
Scott, the mate of the Bloodhound.

“ You are right, Scott. We may have some money
aboard that belongs to the owner, if I'm not mistaken.”

They soon overhauled the junk, and found on board
Lipopong, a Canton merchant, who had been compelled to
pay a heavy ransom for his son Pong-chew. Lipopong was
quite wonderstruck with the terrible execution of the Gat-
ling gun. When told that he could have his money back
by searching for it in the Burong he was still more sur-
prised. He did not believe that such disinterestedness was
possible.

“ Illustrious prince,” he said, with many genuflexions,
“ it is easy to see that you are a. child of heaven. Any one
else would have taken the money for himself, and left poor
Lipopong to be satisfied with his son regained. Most illus-
trious prince! Most noble emperor!”

And Lipopong wallowed on the deck in a transport of
gratitude and respect. ,

From him Claude procured twenty Chinese sailors, whom
he placed on board the captured prahu, under command of
Tom Scott, with ten Americans, to help him control them
and work the ship.

Then the Bloodhound and the Burong spread their sails,
and shot away over the sparkling sea toward Gilolo. They
had not far to go. The Burong proved to be an excellent
sailor, although not so fast as the Bloodhound, and by day-
light next morning they had arrived at their old station.

No Comanche was visible.

Claude sailed about all day in vain search. He passed
by the little rocky islet where. the ransom of the merchants
was exposed. To his surprise there it still lay, a little pile
of bags on a rock, with a white flag fluttering above it.

 

 

 

 

we) as r" _. 

The Red Rajah. 33

 

 

 

Puzzled to make out the whereabouts of the ship, he de-
termined to sail around the island in a wide circle till he
should find traces of her. With a look-out at the masthead,
he cruised till dark. Just as the sun set, the distant boom of
a heavy gun came across the waters from the east.

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
sooon rrenr.

AT the sound of that gun Claude started and hurrahcd.
The crew of the Bloodhound followed his example, catching
the enthusiasm of the moment.

” The Comanche! The Comanche!” was the cry, and a
second deep report confirmed their suspicions.

Claude ran up alongside of the Burong, which he instructed
to follow as close as she could. 'l‘hen crowding all sail on
the Bloodhound, he turned his course eastward, and sailed
toward the sounds. As the darkness came on the wind
rose, blowing a stiff ten-knot breeze from the west. The
prahu was at her best point of sailing, wing and wing, and
skimmed along at a tremendous pace.

The guns could still he heard ahead of them, and the red
flashes could be seen, which lighted up the heavens to the
eastward, every now and then. Casting the log, Peyton
found that he was going eighteen knots an hour, nearly as
fast as a North River steamer.

Inside of half an hour, the flashes became plainly visible.
They came from several places. The reports, sometimes of
heavy guns, at others of lighter pieces, showed that a battle
was going on.

Who could it be between, except the Comanche and the
Red Rajah?

The prahu seemed to fly through the waters, and yet she
went too slow for Claude’s impatience.

He paced the deck excitedly, longing to come up with
the combatants, praying for more wind all the time. The
wind, as if in answer to his prayer, seemed to grow fiercer.
As swift and tireless as the animal whose name she bore, the
Bloodhound rushed on. Most men would have taken in
reefs, for it was blowing quite a gale. Peyton kept every
stitch of canvas set, and threw water on the sails to make
them hold the wind better.

He kept throwing the log every five minutes, and had the
satisfaction of finding that he was going nineteen knots and
a half at last.

He was too eagerly employed in watching ahead to notice
any thing to starboard or port. He could see the flashes
quite plainly now, and the canvas of a large frigate, which

be recognized as the Comanche, under close-reefed topsails,
and going free. She was firing shots, every now and then,
into the midst of a fleet of prahus, that scudded before her
like a flock of sheep.

But, unlikethe sheep, the prahus were fighting. Claude
counted flashes from ten different places; and as he drew
nearer could see that they were fighting under sail, an un-
usual thing for Malays.

The shots from the frigate appeared to be of little effect.
The night was dark, the sea heavy. Shooting accurately
was an impossibility, for either side; but the pirates had the
largest mark to shoot at. Their ordnance was light, being
made up of long brass three-pound guns on swivels, known
as Zelda. Still, the number of the pieces, each prahu carry-
ing four or six, and their low position in the water, rendered
them very annoying to the large ship.

The Bloodhound bore down into themidst of this strife
just as the clouds cleared away from the moon, taking the
squall with them. .

Peyton found himself within a quarter of a mile of the
Comanche when the wind fell to a light breeze. He saw the
pirates begin to draw away from the large frigate as the
breeze fell. The moon illuminated the scene with a flood of
silver, across which came the red flashes of the guns once
more. Claude could see clearly now. The pirates had
been fighting under' close-reefed canvas, and keeping very
near to the ship. When the moon shone out, and the

' squall ceased, they crowded all sail to get away. They had

no relish for a square fight in smooth water.

Peyton could see the sailors swarming over the yards of
the Comanche, and a cloud of sail descended all over the
ship a moment after. He let off a rocket, and his men gave
three cheers. They were answered from the Comanche, and
the pirates uttered a tremendous yell.

at

 

 

Now the Bloodhound overhauled the frigate rapidly, pass
ing her almost as if she were standing still, and dashed into
the midst of the pirates.

Just at that moment another cloud swept over the face of
the moon.

The wind rose rapidly into a second squall, in the midst
of which frigate and prahus rushed madly through the seeth-
ing foam, too busy in looking to their spars to fire at each
other. When the squall had passed over, Claude found
himself driven half a mile to leeward of the frigate, and
some distance in front of the pirates themselves. He wore
short round, and hove to, to await the assault that was in-
evitable.

He had not many minutes to wait, when, down came the
pirates in a clump, as if intending to run him down. Claude
filled his foresail and stood off along the front of their line,
till they were within about a quarter of a mile, when he
opened fire with the Gptling gun. He was answered by the
crashing of hot through the bulwarks of the Bloodhound,
and down came his mainsail in a mass of ruin on deck.

But the fall of the mainsail did not prevent the working
of the machine gun. As accurately as if nothing was the
matter, it continued to grind out its fearful rain of bullets
and shells, crashing through bulwarks, tearing through
crowds of Malays, and carrying death where it went.

The pirate fleet, as if by one consent, swerved to one side,
and dashed past the disabled Bloodhound, not caring to pro-
voke a closer acquaintance with her.

Claude ceased firing as soon as they had passed, and set
to work to repair damages.

The fall of the mainsail was easily accounted for. In-
stead of a mast, a prahu carries a triangle of timber resting
on blocks under the bulwarks. This triangle sustains the
lateen yard under its apex, and is hauled up or down by
strong ropes. One of these ropes had been cut by shot,
which brought down mast and yard together by the run.

This damage was soon repaired, but other injuries were
more serious. Several three-pound shot, and a quantity of
broken iron, had struck the Bloodhound, shattering the thin
bamboo bulwarks, and knocking several holes in her timbers
below, which were framed of teak. One of the holes War

between wind and water, and cost some trouble to stop it; .

so that when the Bloodhound hoisted her mainsail once more
to continue her course, the pirates were well to leeward, and
the Comanche was abeam and passing them.

Claude looked astern for the Burong. She was about
half a mile 011’, and coming up with the Comanche, which
the pirates were leaving. It became evident that the Blood-
hound was the only vessel capable of coming up with the
pirates and rescuing Marguerite, if it was to be done. True,
she was too slightly built to stand much of a fight. but then
the Comanche was sure to be up in time to help her if she
was in danger of sinking.

Claude placed his hopes on disabling the largest of the
prahus and capturing it, in the hope that it might contain
the Rajah. He could see no signs, however, of the white
sails of the splendid yacht. The fact made him suspect that
the Rajah had hidden his prisoners somewhere else.

While he was pacing the deck, occupied with these reflec-
tions, he noticed that the Comanche was beginning to creep
up to him, even in the light wind that had taken the place
of the squalls. -

A train of smoke and sparks from the frigate explained
the reason of this. The Comanche had got up her steam at
last. She had been cruising under canvas when the battle
commenced, and it took some time to light the fires, and get
the boilers hot. .

But now Claude exalted. He himself was coming up with
the enemy, and the Comanche was coming up with him, by
the assistance of steam.

They kept on their course for half an hour, during which
they had both crept up to within about five hundred yards
of the pirates.

Then, once more, the Comanche began to fire her nine
inch rifle on the forecastle.

With smooth water, and a light breeze, the practice was
excellent. The very first shot struck one of the pirates full
in the stern, traversing the entire length, and knocking a
hole into her how, or rather out of it, as big as a small
dining-table.

In an instant she began to smk, amid awild wail from the
devoted crew. The other prahus stood on, leaving the un-
happy ones to their fate. '

Now the Bloodhound opened fire on the next prahu, send-

a.

2+“--32~.A m“... A .

is

=3

34 The Red Rajah.

 

ing a stream of balls into her cabin windows, each one in
the same place, till the afirighted crew, stricken with super-
stitious terror, leaped into the sea on all sides.

The victory seemed to be sure, when a shout arose from
the prahus; and the whole fleet, now reduced to eight,
turned round on their track and hove to, to fight. They
seemed to be aware of the impossibility of escape.

The first intimation that Claude received of their inten-
tions was a broadside of three-pound shot, that came crash-
ing through the sides of the Bloodhound, and in one single
moment reduced her to a helpless wreck, rapidly sinking.
The pirates yelled with triumph as they saw the sails come
tumbling down, and realized that their troublesome antago-
nist was out of the light.

But, long before she sunk, the Burong had arrived along-
side, and the crew were transferred to her, along with the
Gatling gun, hastily hauled aboard.

By the time this was done, however, the pirates were all
round the Comanche, grappled to her and trying to board.

'The great ship stood on her course steadily and majesti-
cally, and looked as if she could annihilate her pigmy oppo-
nents. But they were far more dangerous than she had
given them credit for.

Close alongside, and out of the reach of her guns, they
retained their grappling-hooks firmly in the frigate’s chains.

-Evidently they understood how to foul a screw, for a sail
was dropped overboard, which very quickly was sucked in
by the propeller, and so entangled in it as to render the ma-
chine useless.

They kept up an incessant fire on the port-holes with
small-arms, and made repeated attempts to board. But the
fire of revolvers from the Comanche’s crew became so heavy
that again and again they fell back:

What might have been the end of the contest there is no
telling, had not the rescued Gatling gun on the Burong again
come into play.

It was the first thing transferred to the prahu, along with
two chests of ammunition, Peyton well knowing its import~
ance at the present time. The Bloodhound sunk in fifty
fathoms, full of provisions and water, but the terrible mi-
trailleur was saved. And now it came into use, only too op-
portunely.

The Malays, on the starboard side of the Comanche, as-
sailed by a perfect tempest of balls and shells, were swept
away in a moment. They fell as if struck by lightning, in
a line of dead and dying men. The few who remained
leaped into the sea, to avoid the shower, and four prahus
were cleared.

The Burong tacked across the Comanche’s stern, and sent
a second stream of balls into the mass of yelling combatants
clustered on the tall side of the frigate.

Again was the scene repeated. Again the storm of death
swept over the pirates, driving them into the sea as the most
merciful of the two.

The tall ship and her tiny tender remained victors in the
strife, and the pirates were swimming for their lives. But

‘ the victory had been won at a heavy cost. The fleet of the
Red Rajah was annihilated, but the Burong only held fifteen
unwounded Americans. Twenty-five had been killed out-
right or desperately maimed, from the last fire of the pirate
fleet.

Claude Peyton was so anxious that he could not wait for
the frigate‘s crew to take possession of her prizes. He dash-
ed alongside and boarded the prahus, rushing from one to
another in search of the prisoners he expected to find hidden
away there. Pendleton sent a detail of sailors to take charge
of the prahus, but nothing was found on board to indicate
the presence of prisoners, only dead and dying Malay and
Dyak warriors, grim and ferocious to the last, with a few
female slaves, the mistresses of the chiefs.

From these they learned what Peyton had suspected be-
fore, that the Red Rajah was not in the fleet. It was only a
portion of his squadron sent to attack the Comanche and
draw of! her attention while the Rajah himself proceeded to
the rock where lay the ransom.

 

CHAPTER XXIV.
'rns: YACHT.

THE two friends agreed to man a portion of the prizes
with sailors from the frigate, and formed a fleet to cruise af-
ter their former owner. They spent the most of the night

 

in the necessary preparations, and in the morning the fleet
was ready to start.

How far they had drifted during the fight they did not
yet know. Neither course nor reckoning had been noted in
the excitement. When morning came they found themselves
entangled among the maze of low coral reefs that forms the
eastern barrier of the Malay Archipelago, with a strong cur-
rent setting easterly and driving them on the rocks.

To add to their perplexity the wind was very light, and
the screw of the propeller was found to be so hopelessly
fouled with the sail which the pirates had dropped into the
water, that it would be a work of several hours to cut it
loose, and in the mean time their steam engine was useless.

There was nothing for it but to beat out of the surround-
ing shoals under sail, and wait till they were out of danger
to free the screw. They had drifted into a sea of shoals as
yet unsurveyed, and which they had much difficulty in get-
ting out of.

At last, about noon, they had the satisfaction of seeing
the shoals to the south and east left astern, while the only
remaining one was a long reef to the north that stretched as
a barrier for several miles ahead.

Then it was that the look-out at the frigate’s main top-
gallant cross-trees shouted:

“ Sail, hol A prahu on the starboard bow!”

Pendleton himself scampered up the rigging, glass in hand,
to inspect the stranger.

The vessel was on the port tack, with four of the swiftest
prahus following her, headed by the Burong, with her re-
doubtable mitrailleur. The rest of the prizes had been burnt
or scuttled.

The wind was, dead in their teeth, and the strange prahu
was coming down before it on the other side of the barrier
reef before mentioned. Both parties were approaching each
other rapidly. The captain watched the prahu keenly, till
he heard a voice beside him, exclaiming:

“ The Rajah, by all the powers!”

Pendleton looked round. Claude Peyton stood on the
cross-trees beside him, holding on by a stay, and gazing eager-
ly at the stranger. ,

“ See, Horace I” he ejaculated, “ it is she! The very self-
same yacht, all white and gold, and so swift and beautiful,
that lay in the harbor at Singapore. And by heavens! Look
close! Now you can see him plain. It’s the man himself,
that audacious villain, the Red Rajah !”

Indeed it was true. The lovely yacht, all white and gold,
with snowy sails of fine duck,.was dashing along on the
other side of the barrier-reef, swift as a sea-gull.

Even while they looked, they could see the tall, slight
figure of the Rajah, in his full Malay dress of scarlet and
gold. He was standing on the quarter-deck of one of the
twin boats composing his prahu-yacht, smoking a cigar, and
close enough for them to see his face plainly, with a first-rate
glass.

Pendleton shouted down to the deck:

“ Ready the forecastle gun, there! Give the impudent
villain a shot! Hurry, now !”

The order was obeyed in atwinkling. The great gun was
cast loose and pointed.

There was a flash, and a. heavy report.

The ninevinch shell went skipping over the waves, and
burst into fragments with a loud explosion, as it struck the
coral reef. It was aimed too low.

Pendleton swore a great oath.

The Red Rajah lifted his hand, and waved it in a mock‘
ing adieu.

Then Claude Peyton swore louder than the other.

A female figure had come out of the yacht’s cabin and

mod by the Rajah.

It was Marguerite.

Claude felt sick with jealousy and anguish as he saw
her, and saw the Rajah putting his arm around her, caress-

ingly.

CHAPTER XXV.
wn.L-o‘-'rms-w1sr.

CAPTAIN PENDLETON shouted angrily to “ load up and
try another shot,” when Claude interfered.

“Heavens, Pendleton!” he cried; “don’t you see who is
on board? It is Mademoiselle de Favannes! You may kill
her if you fire.”

Pendleton acquiesced in the observation.

 

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The Red Rajah. 35

 

“ Avast there with that gun!" he ordered. “Secure the
piece.”

Then he and Claude consulted on what should be done.
The ship was increasing her distance every minute from the
yacht, and it became quite plain that by the time they had
rounded the reef that intervened between them, the “Bon-
ita" would be out of sight.

“ We must let her go," said Claude, assentingly, to the
other’s propositions. “ We must go to the island of the ran-
som, and see if the fellows have performed their promise of
returning the prisoners.”

So the two friends sadly descended the rigging, and passed
the rest of the day in beating up to Ransom Island.

They arrived there about sunset, and found that the ubi-
quitous Rajah had been there, as they had expected. A
small tent was pitched on the barren rocks, and around it
were grouped the unhappy merchants, who had been cap-
tured by the Red Rajah. They were well provided with
food and water, and otherwise had been well treated, but
they were full of indignation and terror.

Claude sympathized with them all, and especially with
Messrs. Blathers and Skinner, each of whom had his head
tied up, Where his right ear had been cut off by the Rajah’s
orders, to expedite the ransom. Mr. Earle was uninjured,
as also his daughter, Julia, whom they discovered, somewhat
to Peyton’s surprise, with her father. Claude had never
expected that the sanguinary pirate would have spared her.

But he had done so, and the Earles had a strange tale to tell.

“ They had been carried away,” Julia said, “to the creek
that divides Singapore Island from the wild jungly mainland.
Here they found a fleet of twelve prahus, similar to the Bon-
ita, Don Gregorio’s yacht. Where these prahus had been
hidden during the Rajah’s visit was a mystery, but probably
in one of the numerous wild creeks in the neighborhood.
At all events they were put on board one of the prahus,
along with Mademoiselle Marguerite, who would not leave
Julia. They sailed away around the island quite openly,
without seeming to attract any attention, and outside the
harbor were joined by the Bonita, which came out to meet
them from her moorings. They were unmolested from the
forts, the garrison of which probably took them for Malay
traders. ‘

“ Julia, her father, and Marguerite, were compelled to fol-
low the Rajah on board the Bonita, and were treated with
the utmost politeness. They sailed away to the north-west,
and next morning found themselves all alone in the sea.
The prahus that followed had disappeared.

“They sailed on for the whole of the next day, and at
night sighted some islands, which they passed, and next day
were in the midst of the Bay of Bengal, or the North Indian
Ocean. They must have gone at a tremendous pace, for on
the fourth day they were in sight of Pondicherry, a distance
of over twelve hundred miles from Singapore.

“During the passage," Julia said, “ the Rajah and Mar-
guerite rarely conversed. She seemed to be angryat him,
he sullen and reserved. It appeared that Marguerite had
begged hard at Singapore, for the Rajah to release the mer-
chant and his daughter; but the latter had refused.

“ Now, whenIin sight of Pondicherry, the two had a violent
dispute, in which they spoke only the Malay language, so
that Julia could not understand them. At last the girl ran
to the side of the vessel, and actually leaped overboard
What happened afterward was “all confusion. The child
sunk twice, and the Rajah himself leaped overboard after
her. The sharks were so plentiful and voracious, that there
was much difficulty in saving them, and the child was
brought on board at last,'apparently dead. The Rajah be-
haved like an insane man, tearing his hair and uttering wild
ejaculations in English. At last the child opened her eyes,
and the scene was very touching. The savage warrior melt-
ed into tears, and they talked together in French for some
time. Julia did not catch all they said, as she was con-
fined to her cabin by the crew at the commencement of the
scene; but the Rajah appeared to be promising her some-
thing, at which she smiled, and appeared satisfied, for she
put her arms round his neck and kissed him.”

(Claude ground his teeth when he heard this.)

“ What happened at Pondicherry I do not know,” pur-
sued Julia. “That evening we went into the port, and my
father and myself were put down below, and closely confined.
We were not let up on deck for two days, and when we
came up at last, the Bonita was again out at sea, and it was eve-
ning. A large prahnxwas alongside, one of the fleet we had
left behind us. We were hastily transferred to it, and sailed

 

 

away, in company with the Bonita. We found poor Mr.
Blathers and Mr. Skinner on board. Where they took us
after that, I do not know. We sailed about, sometimes
without the fleet, sometimes with the Bonita, till last night,
when we heard heavy cannonading. Then they took down
our sails, and rowed all night, till they landed us here in the
morning, and here you have found us.”

“But when were these two gentlemen mutilated in that
manner?" asked Claude, pointing to poor Skinner’s head.

“ The Rajah came on board one day, and ordered my
father and me below, and we heard cries on deck. When
we came up, we found these gentlemen had been treated as
you see. They told us that they had been compelled to
write letters to their partners, on the subject of their ran-
soms. The Rajah threatened to cut them to pieces if they
did not do it.

“ We were allowed to see Marguerite last night, that is to
say, I was. I forgot to tell you that my maid, Surya, was
with me till then, attending and dressing me, as she used to.
But yesterday night she was taken from me, and sent to at-
tend Marguerite. I found the poor child very glad to see
me, and she told me that the Rajah had consented to set me
free. At first, you know, he was going to establish a harem,
the wretch, of which I was to be an ornament. But she
persuaded him to yield to her, and, in requital, she had
promised to marry In'm."

Claude had a hard struggle to control himself here.

“ While we were talking," continued Julia, “ an old lady
came into the cabin, who was introduced as Madame de
Choiseul, Marguerite’s aunt. She was very deaf, and asked
me once, ‘Was not Monsieur 1e Comte a man magnificent, a
man glorious?’ When I answered that I did not know him,
she did not hear me, but went on praising this generous
count, who was to make her old age happy and marry her
niece, Marguerite, and how they were to live somewhere, I
could not catch where, for at that moment the chief devil
came in—the Rajah I mean. He looked like a devil for a
moment, I tell you, when he saw the old lady and heard
her prattle. But the next minute he was as cool and cour-
teous as ever, and advanced to me, saying that it was time
to depart. Marguerite cried, but the old lady did not seem
to understand. He explained to her that I had come from
another vessel, which was going back, and so I came away.

“ He must have deceived Marguerite, for she evidently
thought I was set free on her account. But I was not, for
papa tells me that it has cost us an immense sum of money. ”

“ How did this Rajah take leave of you?” asked Captain
Pendleton at this juncture.

“ With perfect politeness. He asked if the old lady had
told me any thing of his future plans, but I assured him she
had not, and he seemed to be satisfied. Just before he
left me, which was on this island, in front of this tent, he
said to me: ‘ You may thank the power of innocence in that
child, Miss Earle, that has preserved you from harm. If it
had not been for her, you would have stayed in the fleet,
after your father’s ransom was paid. You were not included
in it. Henceforth you will hear no more of the Red Rajah.
He leaves these seas forever.’ ”

“ What does that mean, I wonder?" said Claude.

“ I suppose the blackguard has determined to retire to the
shades of private life,” returned Peudleton. “And, indeed,
if he can keep all the money he has made to himself, he will
have a very respectable fortune. Well, we must be after
him. The screw will be in order by tomorrow morning.”

During the night the crew of the Comanche were hard at
work, clearing the screw of the thick folds of canvass in which
it appeared to be inextricably entangled, and finally got it clear.

Then the Earles and their companions were put on board
one of the captured prahus, to be sent to their homes at
Singapore. Peyton took command of the best sailer of the
lot, and bid farewell to Pendleton.

He was resolved to hunt out the Rajah, in the midst of
the reefs among which the Bonita was doubtless threading
her way; and with that object stood ed to the east, leaving
the Spice Islands in his wake.

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
news FROM HOME.

A YEAR after the events we have described in our story,
Claude Peyton found himself in Calcutta, as far from the
object of his search as ever. He had cruised among all the

, 36 The Red Rajah.

 

 

islands of the Malaysia, and far out into the Pacific Ocean,
but no‘ sign of the terrible Red Rajah had be seen, since the
day when he disappeared from view, with Marguerite by his
side.

Where was she now, beautiful, innocent Marguerite? Had
the Rajah kept his promise and married her? and where had
they gone to? They had vanished from the Eastern world
as completely as if they had never been.

Heart-sick. and disappointed, with a weary pain at his
heart that had never left him, the young Virginian sailed
back to Calcutta. He passed through the heart of the Soo-
100 Sea, where the pirates had once held their court, and
found it covered with peaceful traders. With the exit of the
Red Rajah, peace returned to the seas, except near the coasts
of Borneo and Celebes, where sneaking rowboat pirates still
kept their haunts, to snap up unwary fishing-boats.

Claude did not stop at Singapore. He had not the heart.
He was too gloomy about Marguerite’s loss. He passed
through the Straits of Malacca with a fair wind, and arrived
at Calcutta.

Lying in the Hoogly was a frigate, recognized at once as
the Comanche. Peyton ran alongside in his weather-beaten
prahu; and was soon on board, and shaking hands with his
old friend Pendleton.

" The two had much to talk about, Claude to narrate his
fruitless expedition, Pendleton to make a confession.

“ Claude, old fellow,” said the captain, with something
very like a blush, “ I’m going to leave the service. I’ve sent
in my resignation, and as soon as it’s accepted I leave here."

“Why, where on earth are you going, Horace?” asked
Peyton, surprised.

“ To Singapore,” said the other. “ The fact is, Claude—
I—I’m going to be married to Miss Earle—you remember her?”

“ To be sure I do.”

“Yes, and we’re going to live in Virginia. To be sure
the father is somewhat objectionable, with his absent aspirates,
but we shall not see him, and the lady herself is perfection,
as you know." .

“ I congratulate you,’ Horace,” said Claude, cordially.
“ As for me, I don’t know what I shall do. I’ve found no
trace of that villain, the Rajah, and poor little Marguerite is
gone forever, I fear."

“Why don’t you go back to the old plantation?” asked
Pendleton. “ It’s over four years now since you have seen
the old folks; and my father writes me word that they often
talk about you there. By-the-by, there are some letters for
you lying in the post-oflice here. The clerk told me that
they had been there for over a month. One of them was
directed in your father's handwriting.”

“Indeed!” said Claude, eagerly. “Then I must go and
get them at once. Goodby, Horace.”

“ Dine with me this evening—won’t you?—-at six,” called
out the captain, as the other left the cabin.

“All right. With pleasure, I mean,” and Peyton bolted
down the side-ladder as if he had been shot. '

He was very anxious to hear from home. Pendleton’s
account stirred up all the tender memories of his boyhood.
He thought of his father and mother, now growing old; of
his lost brother, Clarence, whom he had not seen for so many
years. Had Clarence come home, perhaps? He rushed to
the post-office, and found several letters. Two he knew at
sight to be bankers’ advice, with remittances from home.
The third was in his father’s well-known hand, and he tore
it open with impatience. .

It was short, and referred to a previous letter, which the
writer presumed he had received at Singapore. The last
words electrified him:

“ As I- told you in my last letter that your brother Clarence
had returned home, and that we were reconciled, you will not
be surprised to hear that his marriage is to take place at
Christmas. Durin his travels he has accumulated great
wealth, and his bri e is worthy of him. Come home quickly,
Claude. We all long to see you and none more than

“ Your affectionate father,
“ GEORGE H. PEYTON."

Claude was astounded

His brother come home, and this the first he knew of it!
How he wished he had stopped at Singapore! Then he
would have understood it fully. '

As it was, he had no time to lose. The stoamer for Eu-
rope was going the next day, and he had only time to cash
his remittances and take his passage, during the short busi-
ness hours of Calcutta.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.
THE END.

THE evening was deliciously mild and fine. The winter
had been remarkably open and dry so far, and the roads
were very tolerable still. No snow had fallen yet, to con-
vert them into those terrible quagmircs that have given Vir-
ginia mud a world-wide reputation. The fields were brown
and bare, it is true; the forests leafless; but the warm sun-
rays lay upon the wood-sides, and the quail piped among the
stubble.

Flocks of wild ducks, high overhead, were winging their
steady way southward through the blue sky, to find their rest
in the distant marshes of South Carolina.

Every now and then, the distant report of a fowling-picce
showed where some sportsman was at work, filling his game-
bag.

Claude Peyton rode along the well-remembered road, by
field and forest, his heart full of pleasant thoughts, mingled
with a gentle sadness. .

He was coming home. Home, with its sweet influences,
was drawing nearer every moment. He should see his mo-
ther once more, and his dear old father, and that brother
whom he only remembered as a boy.

Where had Clarence been all this time? and what was this
mystery about him? The letter explained nothing. And
what would he not have given could he but have known
where Marguerite was! But she was gone from him for-
ever. He should never see that graceful little figure again.
She was lost to him, and in the clutches of a pirate, hidden
away in some distant place in the East.

As he rode along, everything seemed to recall his boy-
hood. Thore was the wood where he and Clarence used to
hunt rabbits, long ago. That tall blasted tree on the hill-
top was the same one whence he and Clarence had taken the
young hawks from their nest. How bold and handsome
Clarence was! What a high temper he had! Claude re-
membered, as if it were yesterday, the quarrel between
Clarence and his father, twenty-two years ago, now; and
how the boy had ridden away from the house in a. passion,
declaring he never would come back.

Old Colonel Peyton had not believed the threat, but Clar-
ence had fulfilled it. He had been tracked as far as Balti-
more, when ,his father grew anxious at last, and hunted for
him. But the clue was lost there. Whether he had gone
to sea or not, no one knew; but they surmised as much; for
a slaver had escaped from the port a week before. and it was
rumored that a boy, answering Clarence’s description, had
gone in her.

When Colonel Peyton heard that, he forbid his son’s
name to be mentioned any more in the house. For a Pey-
ton to be engaged in the slave-trade was a disgrace that he
could not suffer. Claude had often wondered whether the
rumor was true.

So the young man rode on, buried in various thoughts,
till he arrived at the rounded highlands, among which the
Rappahannock pursues its swift course. He drew rein at
the corner of the winding road that led down to the ford,
and spoke to one of the children who came out of the little
cottage to stare at the strange gentleman. No one knew
him.

“Who lives down at the ford there?” he asked of the
eldest, a bright-looking mulatto boy of twelve.

The boy grinned all over his face.

“Dem as allus lived dare, I ’spec’,” he observed.

“ And who’s that?" asked Claude. “ You see I'm a
stranger here.”

“ Why, Marse Peyton, to be sure,” was the reply.

“ Has any one arrived to see Mr. Peyton recently?" asked
Claude.

“ Do’ know nuflin ’bout recently. Marse Clarence come
home, ’bout six, seven, ’leven months ago. Marse Claude
cxpeck home soon. Dar Marse Clarence, now, with his new
wife, little French missy.”

The sound of galloping hoofs struck Claude’s ear, While
the boy was speaking.

The next minute a lady and gentlemen on horseback swept
out of a side road, that led from Fredericksburg, as Claude
knew, and dashed down the read, some way ahead, toward
the ford. _

“Dar Marse Clarence,” said the boy.

Claude started violently in‘ his saddle. There was no mis-
taking those two figures. pHe had seen them before!

Both were splendidly mounted on young bay thorough

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The Red Rajah. 37

 

 

breds, and rode with all the ease and grace of perfect eques-
trians. But the tall, lithe figure of the man, the air of
haughty grace, the closely-buttoned suit of black, with the
broad, shadowy gray hat, was unmistakable. The lady, too,
small and slight, graceful as an antelope, with coils of black,
shining hair around the little round head. Where had he
seen her?

Not as she was now, in dark-brown riding-habit, with
jaunty jockey cap on head.

No. As he looked there flashed through his mind avision
of hot suns, waving palm trees, beds of tuberose and jessa-
mine, and a figure gorgeous in cloth of gold.

He knew her in a minute. IT WAS MARGUERITE.
And the other, her companion, who was it, but the pirate of
the Indies, THE RED RAJAH HIMSELF!

Claude Peyton dashed in the spurs with involuntary cruelty,
and galloped forward, shouting to the others to stop. The
road to the ford in this place was as steep as the side of a
house, figuratively speaking, and required great care in
riding.

The Red Rajah and his companion were going at full speed
down it, and the former turned his head to ascertain the cause
of the shouting behind.

The next moment his horse tripped over a rolling stone,
and came headlong down on the hardroad, throwing its rider
over on his head, and rolling over him.

A shriek from Marguerite, as the horse fell, and she tried
to pull up.

But the wild thoroughbred, near his stable, could not be
halted by those tiny hands. He carried her on, still shriek-
ing, to the mansion below, near the ford, where he stopped,
snorting and trembling, before the porch, to the terror and
astonishment ot the old colonel’s sable household.

Claude found himself beside the fallen horseman, all in a
whirl of bewilderment. From the sudden recognition to the
terrible accident, hardly ten seconds had elapsed.

It came like a flash.

The haughty cavalier of a moment before lay in the midst
of the hard rocky road, a stream of blood welling from his
head, as it lay on a jagged stone; the lady’s horse was tearing
down the road below; Claude was pulling up his own animal
to run to the assistance of the fallen man; and all of this
happened in an instant of time.

Now the fallen horse began to struggle furiously.to rise.
Full of oats, and untired, he did not lie still and wait to be

helped, although he had fallen with his feet up hill. He '

lashed out with his iron-hound hoofs, striking his stunned
rider again and again. Before Claude could rush to his
head, he had struck the fallen man four or five times, the
hoofs echoing with a horrible, crashing thud, every time.

But the prostrate horseman never felt the blows. He was
completely insensible.

Claude’s horse ran off down the hill, and his master suc-
ceeded at last in quieting the frantic struggles of the other.
He did not dare to encourage him to rise, till assistance
came. .

The poor gentleman lay with his body half under the horse,
and could not be moved without great danger of his head
being struck by the animal’s hoofs. So Claude was com-
pelled to hold down the horse’s’head to the ground, and wait
for assistance.

While he did so, he examined the face of the fallen man
intently.

It was the Don Gregorio he had known. That was certain.
Pale and lifeless as the face was, he could not be mistaken
in that. There was the same haughty outline, the same long,
curving mustache. .

But if it was Don Gregorio, if it was the Red Rajah, an-
other conviction forced itself upon his unwilling mind as he
gazed.

This man was his own brother, and no impostor. The
longer he looked, the more certain he grew. He wondered
how it was that he had never suspected it before. A great
tenderness came. over him, as he remembered how the Rajah
had saved his life, while Claude was doing his utmost against
his.

It was no mysterious superstition that had saved him.
The brother had recognized the mark his own hand had
traced on Claude‘s breast, and had given him his life. How
great the provocation had been to take it, Claude could judge
from his own sufferings since he had lost Marguerite.

How long he sat there, gazing at those pale features, with
the dark stream of blood slowly welling from the temple, he

 

did not know. At length—it seemed an age—he heard a
confused buzz of voices approaching, with many footsteps.

Then he was surrounded by the wondering negroes, and
recognized his father at their head.

Colonel Peyton was so shocked and astonished as to be,
incapable of superintending the removal of the body.

“ Claude! Clarencel‘ My God! What a welcome to my
boy 1” was all he could ejaculate.

Claude took command with his characteristic quickness.

“It is I, father," he said; “ I saw him fall. Don‘t talk
yet. We must get him out. Here, boys, one of you get on
the horse’s head. Quick. 80. Now four of you take him
by the legs. Hold on as tight as you can. He can‘t kick
now. 80. Now haul the brute off the body. Two of you
take my brother under the arms, and drag him out. Quick.
All together. So.” '

In a moment more the insensible Clarence Peyton was
dragged clear of the feet of the animal, and in safety; when
the negroes jumped away, and let the horse scramble to his
feet.

Now Claude had time to hear and answer his father’s anx-
ious inquiries, while the little procession bore the injured
man slowly down the hill to the home of his ancestors.

They went softly and monrnfully along, till they were
down by the ford, where the foaming river dashed violently
by, over the rocky shallows. They turned then, under the
grove of lofty oaks and cedars, that shaded Peyton Hall,
leaving the old mill'on the other side of the road. They
entered the quiet, shady dell, where the stately hall was hid-
den from view between its two bills, while a little purling
stream ran from the spring-house in front of the door.

Slowly and sadly they bore the body up the steps, on to
the broad, shady porch, that covered the front of the house.

Poor Mrs. Peyton, trembling and weeping, met them on
the porch, and followed them into the room, where they laid
their burden on the bed.

Small time was there for welcome to the returned one.
Claudc‘s mother sunk into his arms, weeping and moaning,
while there was anxious bustle among the servants, to bring

water and lint to dress the wounds. One of the men started
for Culpepper at full gallop to fetch the doctor, and in the

mean time every one obeyed Claude.

Aecustomed to wounds and ,danger, he examined his bro-
ther’s injuries, and found them hopeless at the first examina-
tion. The skull was not fractured, it appeared, but the
hoofs of the frantic horse had beaten in the left side of the
rider, breaking several ribs; and a thin stream of blood flow-
ed from his mouth, telling of internal hemorrhage.

Marguerite was nowhere to be seen. .

Claude ordered all the negroes from the room and waited
his brother‘s return to consciousness.

“ Where is Mademoiselle de Favannes?" he whispered to
his mother. ,

Mrs. Peyton controlled her grief sufliciently to answer.

“ She came in nearly distracted, poor thing. Her aunt,
Madame de Choiseul, is here, and insisted on her going to
her room. Poor child! She would be no use here. Oht
Claude! Claude! They were to be married to-morrow.
And now my poor Clarence will die. And I had only just
begun to be happy with him, and to love her. What shall
I do? What shall I do?”

“ Mother, it is God’s will,” said Claude, softly. “You
have one son left still.”

“ I know it, my child," she answered, weeping. “ But
poor Clarence had been away so long. He was like the lost
sheep found again. And now I shall lose him forever.”

Colonel Peyton sat by the bed, entirely overcome. He
was an old man now, and unfit to bear such a shock.

Claude watched the wounded man, saw_ the eyelids quiver
at last.

“ Hush! he wakes!"

The three clustered round the bed in great anxiety as

Clarence Peyton slowly opened his eyes.

He gazed round the room, dreamily, for a few minutes.
Then his eyes fell on Claude. He smiled faintly.

“ Claude,” he whispered, in a low voice, “ you have come
at last. You know who I am now.”

“ Hush!" said Claude, quietly. “ You have had an acci-
dent. You must not speak till the doctor comes.”

Clarence slowly raised his left hand to his brow. He
wok it away, bloody. His breath appeared to come in la
bored gasps. ~

“ What’s the matter!” he whispered. “ Where is Mar
guerite?” '

o

 

38 ' The Red Rajah.

 

 

“ You came down with your horse on a stony road, and
the beast trampled on you,” exclaimed Claude. “ I fear you
are badly hurt. We have sent for the doctor. ”

“Throw physio to the dogs,” whispered Clarence, with a
ghastly smile of pain and attempted sarcasm. “ I want no
doctor—I know it all now—I remember—the horse came
on his head—and I on mine. But I can’t—breathe.
the—matter?”

He spoke in short, abrupt sentences, gasping between
them. Colonel Peyton addressed him.

“ Don’t try to talk, my poor boy. Don’t.
yourself, and, perhaps, kill yourself."

Clarence smiled again, a smile distorted with pain.

“ Better so, perhaps,” he said, faintly. “ I’m—noth-
ing but—a useless—scamp—Claude’s the man—of the
family. ”

There was a dead silence in the room for some minutes,
only broken by Mrs. Peyton’s sobs.

Presently the wounded man turned to Claude. His mind
seemed to be perfectly clear, although to Claude's eyes, it
was evident that he was sinking with terrible rapidity.

” Better as it is, Claude,” he whispered, “ Don’t tell
_my father—I spared your life—spare my honor—when—I’m
gone."

He spoke so low and brokenly, that no one but Claude
understood him. The latter bowed his head, and answered:

“ Fear not. I will keep your secret.”

The dying man—for such he was now—smiled in grati-
tude, and whispered:

“ Thanks—where’s—Marguerite ‘2" -

“ Go and fetch her, mother,” said Claude. in a low tone,
and presently the girl glided into the room, silent and tearless,
keeping down her grief by a strong eflort.

She started violently when she saw Claude, and for the
first time realized who he was. i

“ Monsieur Claude!” she ejaculated.

“What? have you met before?" asked Mrs. Peyton, sur-
prised even at that moment.

“Yes, mother. I will tell you afterward,” said Claude,
hurriedly. “ Don’t talk about it now, please.”

You’ll hurt

What’s '

 

Clarence Peyton looked steadily at Claude and Marguerite.
as they stood beside his bed.

“Marguerite,” he said, in the soft French tongue he al-
ways used to her, “thou wilt soon be free, child. Thou
hast tried to love me for long, but it has been a hard task.
Now thou canst have thy Monsieur Claude, and you can
both love each other. It is best so, child. Kiss me good-by.
I’m going from thee.”

Marguerite threw her arms around him in a burst of tears,
and every one in the room was deeply affected. Clarence
himself recovered the first, and motioned his mother to take
her away.

A terrible spasm of pain contorted his features, in the
midst of which a thick stream of blood burst from his lips
and dyed the pillow.

Marguerite shrieked and fainted, and was drawn away
from the bedside by Claude, and placed in a. large chair near
by.

Then he returned to wipe away the flowing tide. When
it ceased, it became apparent that Clarence Peyton had not
long to live. He motioned Claude to his side and whispered
a few words in his ear.

“ When—I’m — gone —marry——Marguerite,” were the
words; “ good-by—pray for me.”

A moment after he shuddered and stretched himself out.
A second flow of crimson indicated that another blood vessel
was burst, and in a moment more the soul of Clarence ,Pey—
ton had gone to its long account.

Gifted with strength, beauty, and talent, beyond the
average, he had made no use of them but to win himself the
chieftainship of a band of barbarian pirates, only to desert
them, and flee with his ill-gotten riches to the land that gave
him birth. Stricken down at last by the inscrutable Provi-
dence of God, just upon the eve of the consummation of
his happiness, brilliant, wicked Clarence Peyton, the ac-
complished Don Gregorio Rodriquez, fell on a plain road
in broad daylight, and was trampled to death by his own
horse.

Claude shuddered as he reflected on his ending, and re-
verently closed the eyes of his dead brother.

A year after he and Marguerite were married.

i
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A

 

 

.. .. MW...“

 

 

 

- BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY.

Every one of them “lee ” Stories by “ Live” Authors. Each number
a. Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price Ora HALF-DIME.

1 Deadwood Dick, TEE PRINCE or THE
ROAD. By Edward L. Wheeler.

2 Yellowstone Jack ; or, THE TRAPPEE
0F TIIE ENOIIANTED GROUND. By J. E. Badger. Jr.

Kansas Kin ; or, THE RED RIGHT
HAND. By Buflalo Bill (Hon. Wm. F. Cody).

The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt.
Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

5 Vagabond Joe: THE YOUNG WANDER-
ING JEw. By 011 Coomes.

Bill Biddon. Tra er; or, LIFE IN
£3

THE NORTHWEST. By ward 8. Ellis.

7 The Flying Yankee; or, THE OCEAN
OUTcAsT. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

8 Seth Jones; or, THE CAPTIVES or TEE
FRONTIER. By Edward S. Ellis.
9 The Adventures of Baron Mun-
L. chausen.

10 Nat Todd; or. THE FATE or THE
SIOUX CAPTIVE. By Edward S. Ellis.

The Two Detectives ; or, THE
FORTUNES or A BOWERY GIRL. By Albert
W. Aiken, author of “ The Spotter Detective," etc.
1 Gulliver's Travels. A Voyage to
Lilliput, and 9. Voyage to Brobdingnag.
13 The Dumb Spy. By 011 Coomes,

author of “ Vagabond J 0e," etc.
14 Aladdin; or, THE WONDERFUL
LAMP.

15 The Sea-Cat; or, THE WITCH or
DARIEN. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and
Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.)

17 Ralph Roy. The Boy Bucca-
neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

1 8 Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy-
ages. From the Arabian Nights.

19 The Phantom Sp z or, THE PILOT
or TEE PRAIRIE. By uflalo Bill.

20 The Double Daggers; or, DEAD-
WOOD DIOK‘s DEEIANCE. By Edward L.
Wheeler, author of “ Deadwood chk.’

21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of
Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By Edward 8.
Ellis, author of “Seth Jones.” etc.

22 The Sea Serpent; or, THE BOY
- ROEmsON Causes. By Col.Jusn Lewis.

Nick 0’ the Nl%ht: or, Tan 30!
SPY or ’76. By ’1‘. . Harbaugh.
24 Diamond Dirk: or, THE MYSTERY,
or THE YEmes'mNE. By Col. Prentiss
Ingraham. author of “The Flying Yankee,” etc.

25 The Boy Ca tain: or, THE PIRATES
DAUGHTER. y Roger Starbuck.
By

26 Cloven Hoof. the Demon.
27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide.
Pistol: on. DEADwoon DICK IN
3 DAUGETEE. By pt. F. Whittaker.
Keen-Knife. TEE PRINCE or TEE
or TEE Gnu. DEAD-SHOT. 3 Edward L.
RED PmATEs or TEE CAamnEEs. By Samuel
BOY SPY. By Capt. J. F. 0. Adams.
35

Edward L. Wheeler
By Oil Coomes.
28 Buflalo Ben, the Prince of the
Dream. By Edward L. Wheeler.
29 The Dumb Pa e; 011, THE DOGE’s
Roaring Ralph Rockwood, THE
REOELEss RANGER. By Harry St. George.
3 1 Pumice. By 01! Goornes.
32 Bob Woolf. the Border Ruman:
Wheeler, author of “ Deadwood Dick." eytc., etc.
33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THE
W. Pierce. author of “The Boy Detective.“'etc.. etc.
 Oregon Sol: or. NICK WKIFFLES’
Wild Ivan, THE BOY CLAUDE DUVAL;
or, TEE Bmumoon or DEATH. Dead-
wood Dick Romance No. 4. By Edward L. Wheeler.

 

EUEEALO Elm—No. 28.0
36 The Boy Clown; or, THE QUEEN or
TEE ARENA. By Frank S. Finn.

37’ The Hidden Lodge: or, THE LITTLE
HUNTER or TUE ADIRONDACKB. By T. C.

Harbaugh, author of “ Nick 0’ the Night," etc.
By

38 Ned Wylde, THE BOY SCOUT.
Texas Jack.
39 Death-Pace, the Detective: or,
LIrE AND LOVE IN NEW YORK. By Ed-
ward L. Wheeler. .
40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young

American who wanted to see the world.
By John J. Marshall.

41 Lasso Jack, THE YOUNG MUSTANG-
En. By 01] Coomes.

42 The Phantom Miner: or, DEAD-
WOOD DICE's BONANzA. By Ed. L.Wheeler.

Dick Darlin? the Pen E ress
43 Rider. By apt. F. W hiyttakxg.
44 Battling Rube: or, THE NIGHT-

nwas or m. ByHarry St. George.
45 Old Avalanche. the Great An-

nihilator: or, THE GIRL BEIGANE.
By Edward L. Wheeler.

46 Glass Bye, the Great Shot ofthe
West. By Capt. J. F. 0. Adams.

more Ann—No. 27.

 

 

 

47 Nightingale Nat: on. THE FOREST
APTAINs. By T. C. Harbaugh.

48 Black John, the Road-Agent.
or, TEE OUTLAw‘s RETREAT. By 0s. E.
Badger. Jr.

49 Omaha. Oil, the Masked Terror.
or. DEADWOOD DICE IN DANGER. By Ed!-
ward L. Wheeler.

50 Burt Bunker. THE TRAPPEB. A

Tale of the North-west Hun Grounds.
By Charles E. Lasalle. ting

51 The Bog Rifles, or, THE UNDEE.
GROUND AMP. By Archie 0. Iron.

52 This Whitde Buflalo. A Tale of
By CharlesiErange e.venture in the North-west.

53 Jim Bludsoe. Jr.. TEE Bor PHENIX'

or 'l‘snouon TO THE DEATH. Edward
L. Wheeler. ’ By

54 Ned Hazel, THE BOY TRAPPIR; or

TEE PHANTOM PamCEss. By Capt. J. F. 6.
Adams.

5 5 Deadly-Eye, TIIE UNKNOWN SCOUT;
ml Bill or, THE BRANDED BROTHERBOOD. By But
0 .

56 Nick Whifles’ Pet, or, IN Tar
VALLEY or DEATH. By Capt. J. F. C.
Adams.

5 7 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or,
TEE PARDS or FLOOD BAR. y Edward
L. Wheeler.

58 The Border King; or, THE SECRET
FOE. By 011 Coomes.
5 9 Old Hickory, or, PANDY ELLIs’s
SCALP. By Harry St. George.
60 The White Indian; or, TEE SCOUT

or was YELLOWSTONE. By Capt. J. F. 0.
Adams.

61 Buekhorn Bill, or, THE RED Rim
TEAM. By Edward L. Wheeler.

62 The Shadow Ship. or, THE RIVAL

LIEUTENANTs. By Co.Prentiss Ingraham.

63 The Red Brotherhood, or, THE
TWELVE AVENGEEs. By W. J. Hamilton.

64 Dandg Jack, or, TEE OUTLAW or
m MOON TRAIL. By '1‘. C. Harbaugh.

65 Hurricane Bill, or. MusTANG SAM
AND Ins “Pm.” By Joe. E. Badger, Jr

66 Single Hand. or, A Ln'E son A LIFE.
By W. J. Hamilton.

67 Patent-Leather Joe: or, OLD RAT-

TLEsNAxE, TEE Camus. Phil! 8.
Warns, author or “A Hard Crowd.“ “ er Dip "
“ Always on Hand.“ etc.

68 The Border Robin Hood: or, TEE
PRAIRIE ROVER. By Buflulo Bill.

69 Gold Rifle. THE YOUNG SHARP-
snoorsn: or, THE BOY Drum arm
BLAcx RANGE. By Edward L. Wheeler.

70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, TEE GEEEN-
Adams some IN THE Woons. By Coptain J. F. C_

7 1 Delaware Dick; THE YOUNG BANG
Ea Sn; or, Bno'rm AaAnwr 3mm
By on Coomes.

72 Mad Ton: Western, TEE TExAA
RANGER. ByW. J. Hamilton.

73 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or,
CALAMITY JANE, m Hnom or no
Wsoor-ur. By Edward L. Wheeler.

Hawk e Harry Tm: Young
74 ngmNam By’Oll Coomes.

7'5 The Boy Duelist: or, TEE Came:
In or m SEAWou. ByCoLPI-entinh:

76 Abe Colt. the Crow-Killer. DJ
Albert W. Aiken.
A now mm m mu.
The Half-Dime Library is for sale I:

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Newsd ave cents so or seat I; nah OI
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Bflnnr

LIBRARY.

 

 

 

32 Large Three-Column Pages.

KIT CARSON. JR.— 0. 3.

1. A Hard Crowd : OR, GENTLEMAN
SAH’S SISTER. By Philip S. Warne.

2. The Dare-Devil: OR, THE WINGED ‘

Wm]: 01" THE SEA. By Col. Prentiss Ingmham.

8. Kit Carson. J r., THE CRACK SHOT or
THE WEST. By Buckskin Sam.

4. The Kidnapper: OR, THE GREAT
SHANGHAI OF THE NORTHWEST. By Philip S. Warne.

5. The Pire-Piends: 0R, HERCULES, THE
HUNCHBACK. By A. P. Morris.

6. Wildcat Bob, THE Boss BRUISER :
on. THE BORDER BLOODHOUNDS. By Edward L. Whee‘
ler, author of “ Deadwood Dick,“ “Double Daggers."

7. Death-Notch, THE DESTROYER: OR,
THE SPIRIT LAKE AVENoERS. By 011 Coomes.

8. The Headless Horseman. A strange
story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover.

10. Vidocq. THE FRENCH POLICE SPY.
Written by himself.

1 1. Midshipman Easy.
ryat.

12. The Death-Shot : 0R, TRACKED To
DEATH. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

13. Pathawa, : OR, NICK WHIFFLES, THE
31:: TRAPPER or THE ORTHWEST. By Dr. J. H. Bob-

11.

By Capt. Mar-

14. The. endanegea. THE SCOURGE ;
TOR, THE WAR- OLE or THE MOHAWKS. By Ned Bunt~
'lne. author of “ The White Wizard."

 

 

 

 

.24..

HANDY ANDY.—N0. 9.

 

 

 

 

15. The Tiger-Slayer: 0R, EAGLE-
HEAD To THE RESCUE. ByGustave Aimard.

16. The. White Wizard: OR, THE GREAT
PROPHET OF THE SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntline.

17. Nightshade, THE ROBBER PRINCE
on HOUNSLOW HEATH. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

18. The Sea. Bandit: OR, THE QUEEN
or THE ISLE. By Ned Bunth‘ne.

19. Red Cedar, THE PRAIRIE OUTLAW.
By Gustave Aiinard.

20. The Bandit at Bay: OR, THE PI-
RATES or THE PRAIRIES. By Gustave Aimai'd.

21. The Trapper’s Daughter: OR,
THE OUTLAw’s FATE. By Gustave Aimard.

22. Whitelaw: 0R, NATTIE or THE LAKE
SHORE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson,

23. The Red Warrior: 0R, STELLA
DELOREE‘S COEANCHE LOVER. By Ned Buntline.

24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Aj-
mard, author of “Tiger-Slayer." etc.

25. The Gold-Guide: on. STEEL ARE,
THE REGULATOR. By Francis Johnson.

26. The Death-Track: OR, THE OUT-

LAws or THE MOUNTAIN. By Francis Johnson.

27. The SPotter-Detective: on. THE
GIRLS or NEW ORK. By Albert W. Aiken.

28. Three-Fingered J ack. THE ROAD-
AOENT or THE ROCKIES; OR, THE BOY MINER or HARD
LUCK. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

29. Tiger Dick, THE FARO KING; or,
THE CASHIER’S CRIME. By Philip S. Warue. author
of “A Hard Crowd," etc.

80. Gospel Geor e; or, FIERY FRED,
THE OUTLAW. By Josep E. Badger, Jr.

31. The New York ‘Sharp ;’ OR, THE
FLASH or LIGHTNING. By Albert W. Aiken,

32. B’hoys of Yale; OR, THE SCRAPES
OFA HARD SET or COLLEGIANs. By John D. Vose.

33. Overland Kit. By Albert W.
Aiken.

34. Rocky Mountain Rob.
bert W. Aiken.

35. Kentuck. the Sport. By Albert
W. Aiken.

36. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken.

37. Hit-l. the Hunchback: OR, THE
SWORDHAKER or THE SANTEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

38. Velvet Hand; OR, THE IRON GRIP or
INJU’N DICK, By Albert W. Aiken.

39. The Russian Spy: on. THE BROTH-
ERS or THE STARRY CROSS. By rederick Whittaker.

40. The Long Haired ‘Pards;’ CR
THE TARTARH or THE LAINS. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

41. Gold Dan: OR, THE WHITE SAVAGE
on THE GREAT SALT LAKE. By Albert W. Aiken.

42. The California Detective: OR,

BY Al-

-THE erms or NEW YORK. By Albert W. Aiken.

43. Dakota Dan, THE RECKLEss RANGER;
or. THE BEE-HUNTERs EXCURSION. By 011 Coomes.

44. Old Dan Rackback, THE GREAT
EKTAREINATOR; or, THE TRIANGLE’S LAST TRAIL
By 011 Coomes.

45. Old Bull’s Eye, THE LIGHTNING
SHOT 011‘ THE BLAINE. By Joseph E. Badger. JR..

46. Bowie-Knife Ben, THE LITTLE
HUNTER or THE NOR‘-WEST. By 011 Coomes.

47. Pacific Pete, THE PRINCE or THE
REVOLVER. By Jos. E. Badger.

48. Idaho Tom, THE YOUNG OUTLAW
or SILVERLAND. By 011 Coomes. .

49. The Wolf Demon; or, THE QUEEN or
THE KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken.

50. Jack Rabbit, THE PRAIRIE SPORT;
01', THE CHILDREN on THE LLANO ESTACADO. By J 05.
E. Badger. Jr.

51. Red Rob, THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
By 011 Coomes.

52. Death Trailer, THE CHIEF or
Scours; or Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By
Hon. Wm. . Cody, (Buflalo Bill.)

53. Silver Sam; or, THE MYSTERY or
Doadwoon CITY. By Col. Delle Sara.

I 54. Always on Hand; or. THE SPORTWE
SPORT or THE FOOT HILLS. By Phillip S. Warne‘
author of “A Hard Crowd." “Patent Leather Joe '

 

Each Number Complete. Price 10 our.

EIDSHIPAIAN EASY.—NO. ll.

55. The Scalp Hunters. A ROMANCE or
THE PLAINS. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

56. The Indian Mazep a; or, THE
MAD MAN or THE PLAINS. By Al ert W. Aiken.

57. The Silent Hunter; or, THE SCOWL
HALL MYSTERY. By Percy B. St. John.

58. Silver Knife; or, WICKLIFEE. THE
ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGER. By Dr. J. H. Rob‘uson.

59. The Man From Texas: or, THE
OUTLAW or ARKANSAS. By Albert W. Aiken.

60. Wide Awake; or, THE 1mm or
THE BLACK HILLS. By Frank Dumont.

61. Captain Seawaif. THE PRIVATEE:
By Ned Buntline.

62. Loyal Heart; or, THE TRAPPERS on
ARKANSAS. By Gustave Aimard.

63. The Winged Whale. _
W. Aiken. ~ , . .
64. Double-Si?ht, the Death Sho.
By Joseph E. Badger, r. " .

65. The Red Rajah: or, THE SCOURGE
or THE lNDIEs. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. ‘

By Alber‘

66. The Specter Barqub. A TALL
or THE PACIFIC. By Captain Mayne Reid.
Ready April 230.

A new issue every week.

Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all
Newsdealers. ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on
receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE 8; ADAMS,
Pubhshers. 98 William Street. New York.

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