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' d2 ' d . , Q) bl 'shers, r . W. A
Vol. Xlx.  936“ .,.,::,3,:m  No. 242

 

fill: ['06 DEVIL; or, The Skipper of the Flash."

A STORY OF THE GLOUCESTER TRAWLERS. ‘ l

 

BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER,

or “xnofxme or m mAuPs." “ mm numcmn," “ THE RUSSIAN SPY,” “mm: mm mun," “m xmsn CAPTAIN,” “11m MAN IN
BED," “ mum’s HEAD CUIRASSIERS," “ Pmmn xmoms,” ma, ETC.

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ONLY ONCE DID HI RISE, THE RAVENOUS CREATURES HANGING ON TO HIM LIKE BULIrDOGB.

 

 

 

2‘ ',

The Fog ' Devil. ’

 

 

 "TEFth Devil;

The Skipper of the Flash.

A Story of the Gloucester Trawlera.

BY CAPT. FRED. WHITTAKER,

AUTHOR or “ THE sumo nu'i‘cmn or 1880,"
ETC., are, me. ,

 

. CHAPTER I.

‘ a mmm’s Love. .

- Tm sprin of 197- was remarkable for the

ntity of rift-ice that came down from Baf-

’e Ba , tonoat as far south as the latitude of
' ,Eyork city, in the track of European

, _ ‘ nd Banks were covered with
‘for him 3 of miles, compelling steamers to
lose a day in skirting it, where it was too thick
to be pierced, without injury to the ships.
in inugg days On shore, alternating

with cold no hwest‘ers. made‘ the farmers
tremble for their fruit buds; but the hardy
fishermen of Cape Ann reaped a harvest in spite
of the weather, and made it serve their urpose
to keep the halibut fresh as it was caug t near
the ice-does.
 It was in the middle of spring, that year,
when a young man, whose handsome, refined
face told that he was something more than an
ordinary fisherman, in spite of his rou h clothes

heavy sea-boots, stood. at the has door of
£33m summon? (gt Gloucsster, with E21118

. roan vwai o a ett can '1-

Mo’leaned both handsfontl‘iis {hbuldegr a
looked into his eyes with a wistful aze that
showed plainly they were parting an that she
dreaded it. -

“Why, Alice,” said the young fisherman
soothingly, “it is not like you to be frightened
at nothing. The Flash is a good-sea boat, none

better, and Darke is the best sailor on the
nks as well as one of the luckiest. Why
should you be alarmed about me, this time!”

The girl clung a little closer.

“ I don’t know ” she half whispered, “ I sup-
pose it’s because love you so, Ned. Oh, when
will the time come when we can cast off this

'myste and show the world how we are? To
I think t at I dare not come down with you to
able" wharf, to bid you good-by, before them

    
   

Ned’s face turned a little graver, and his
voice had a certain half—reproachful ringin it,
ashe answered, stroking her dark hair:

"' I have not made the mystery, Alice. . I am
willing to go to your father openly now, in my
rough flslnn clothes, and Iayto him: ‘Sir,'I
love Alice. ’ ”

“Hush! hush!” she cried in an agitated way
as’ she put one pretty hand over his mouth,
“ you must not say it, even here. Oh, you don’t
know how hard he is, Ned. If he knew all,_,I
almost think he would turn me into the street,
only child though I be.”

‘ Iwish he would,” interrupts Ned frown;
ing in an angry manner. “I d are 1' wish he
would, Alice. You’ll never have pluck enough
to face the world with me, till he does.‘ Just
because the £9ng is an obstinate—”

_' “ Hush, ed,” she said, pleadin ly. “Re-
member he’s my father, dear. Ego loves me
dearlyand does it all for the best Ned. ‘ He
knows what a hard thing poverty is. He was
go:- once. He wants to save me from that.

on knowit’s only that. He. likes you well
enough, Ned.” -'

The young man looked _away toward the
harbor with a thoughtful, bitter sort of smile.
’ ‘ Yes, he liked me well enough tillI was made
a beggar without any fault of in own and now
he wants to throw me over, an give you to a
rich man. But I’ve made up my mind to one
thing, Alice. When I come back from this
ti'li'lp, I claim you openly no matter who objects.
I have no more of this lurking round back
doors and watching to see if the judge has gone
to, the allies. I've saved enough spongy. to
buys cottage, and if you are the girl I ink,
you’ll come when I say, come.” v _

‘An irrepressible smile curled the girl’s lip as
she listened to her lover’s words, and she mur-
mureo:

“ Oh, Ned, will that ever be? How hap y I

' could be! I'd workand slave: I’d do anyt mg
for you. But oh. Will it ever be?"

“ Why not. Alice?" he answered. “ I don’t
intend!» be a fisherman all my life, I can
mute you. Though I ought not to speak ill of
the craft that took me up when. ill—fortune
overtook me. I thought once to live by my
brains.”

“ And you are so talented, Ned,” interru ted
Alice, admiringly. “ You ought to be as aw-
yer or a doctor or something, dear. I know
you are only throwing yourself away in this

to h life.
Iniged smiled rather proudly as he answered:

“ I can do anything I set out to do, Alice. r

They. all said I was good fornothing; that

, while thefields of ice stretched .

 

college then had no business in the world with-
out fortune to back them; but I showed them
I could work with my hands and make my
brains help them. If this trip realizes well I’ve

an offer to take command of the Flirt‘uextr

time. Darke is a ood fellow, if he is hard, _and
he tells me he has con watehin me ever since
I came on board as a green han .” _
Alice seemed to be ones about something.
“ Do you like Samson Dar ei” she asked him
at last, after some hesitation. I
N ed laughed; the o u, frank laugh of a
youi‘iig man in good hea th, with good prospects.
“ lay, of course I do. I admit he s a. run h

‘sort of customer, but he’s been kind to me n

his way. Don't on like him?”

Alice colored sl ghtly and evaded the question
b‘yonlooking up at the sky, where the white
c ds were chasing each other over the clear
blue that indicated a northwest wind.

“ You’ll have 'a good run out,” she said, “ but

.it’s oin tobebitterl cold.”
as... y t

ed as he replied: ' -

“ We don’t mind that. We’re warmly clothed
you know, and after- all, the worst of the
spring’s over. Good-by, dearest, and don’t for-
‘ at that when I come back who to be Mrs.

dward' Norwood in ‘5 its of 1: em all“?

Alice started as if s 9 had but ijust realized

that he was just going away, and c ung to him,
sobbing:
“ Olil Ned, Ned, don’t go, don’t gol I’ve had
such dreams about you! But I know you must.
I’m foolish. You’ll come back, won’t you,
dear?”

“ Come back l” he echoed. “Ay, Alice. I’ll
come back in spite of sea and storm. What-
ever else is curtain in this woigl be sure I will
come back tovclaim. my little wi e’.”. ,

Then there was'a long, close embrace 'by that
back-door at Gloucester, and the mug fisher-
man strode awa down the gar en toasmall
lane at the rear t at ran down to the port, and
took his de rture.

As for A ice, she stood watching him till his
head disappeared over the palings, her eyes dim
with tears.

It was by no means an unpleasant outlook
from that door on the judge’s garden, even in
April, for the place faced the south, the sun
shone warm and bright, and the grass was green
wherever it was sheltered from the wind. One
might see the harbor and the sea beyond, cover-
ed with tossing white~caps with the fleet schoon-
ors reading their broad wings to  away,
and ashiu out to the open seaghwhi e others
still lay rid ughat their anchors, With the clouds
of spray dash gover their bows as they plunged
into the chop ng waves. ‘ . . ‘ ' ’ .

It was ‘ a right, exhilarating View which
Alice had often seen before and delighted in;
but on that morning she seemed to be gloomy
and depressed, beyond the power of nature to
rouse her. .

She remained with her eyes fixed on the port,
especially‘on one schooner that lay at anchor
still, Wit her mainsail up, as if read to get
under way, and shive‘red as she heard 1: 9 mod
whistle over tbe.chimneys of the houses, though
all was warm and sunny in Judge Mason’s gar-

den.

“ Ah,” she murmured to herself, “ how bri ht
it looks now but what will it be out at seal hl
Ned, ‘Ned, if, I had dared tell you—” -

She sto pod abru tly at the ound of a step
close to t e end of he garden, and saw a. man’s
head above the low; slings. '

The man had a b ack ‘sou’-wester” on, and
his face was big and bearded, while his huge
shoulders, appearing above the paling, showed
him to be a person of great hight.

His eyes were fixed on Alice as if he had been
watching her, and as he passed the gate he
stopped and called out, in a deep, not unmusical
vorce:

“Aha , Miss Ally! well, we’re off at last, and
your fat or can sleep easy for awhile.” .

Alice flushed angrily, and retorted:

“ I don’t know what you mean, Captain
Darke.”

The big man ut hi hand on the latch of the
gate and came n bef re he answered her.

He was a grand s ciineu, of physical man-
hood, in his rough hing dress, and his face
was not by an means unhandsome, but for a
certain bold erce stare of his gra e es and a
ail-ram curl of his lip under the y brown

r .

“ You don’t know what I mean!” he repeated,
a little contemptuously. “ Yes. ya do. A1106
Mason. I mean that he’ll know Ned Norwood’s
at sea and not likel to be hanging around back
doors. D’ye think don’t keep my eyes skinned?
What’s the use of this glass?”

He indicated a big ship’s glass that he had
shoved into one of his side pockets as he went

on: .
“I saw it all, Alice Mason, and the parting
was very affecting. I’ve nothing to say against
it. Ned’s a. fair sailor for a greenhorn: but the
time may come when you’ll want a firmer band
and a stouter heart than he holds to keep you
from harm .my girl. You throwed me over-
board for his fine ways once, and see 'what you
ot for it. He had to come down as low as me.

;'ve got nothing tosay against it“ Agal’s gota
‘ ".11".- f". I, .

I

right to change her mind like the wind, I sup-
pose; but I do say this, Alice Mason-.—"

As he 5 he his gra eyes flashed fire, and be
ground strong tee h under his bushy beard.

“ Before I ve you up for good there’ll .be a
fight ’twixt im and me, and Samson Darke
, ain’t reckoned a boy. Good-day to ye.

- So saying, he strode off to the back gate and
followed the same road as Norwood. _ _
CHAPTER

' j m CAPTAIN or, ran .I'LASE.
«4 Tim Flash lay straining at her cable like a
mettlesome steed tugging at the halter. when
Captain Samson Darke made his appearance on
the wharf, ready to go to sea. ' I

The schooner was one of the flnesh of her
class, the “Gloucester Trawlers,” fine in the
lines as the old Baltimore clippers which they
have superseded, with hollow how, clean taper-
ing run, broad . at the waist, and a main
boom that was big enough for a vessel nearly
twice her size. ~

She was rigged .for ghting heavy sens, her
decks were partitioned of! nto square pens
about nine inches high, to-keep the.flsh from
sliding about as they Were thrown aboard, and
her cabin and forecastle below were fitted up
in ash and black walnut, as neatly as many
yachts. _ ,

In front of the foremast was celled a pile of
nine—inch Manilla hawser, four hundred fathoms
in length, and six dories, sharp in the bow, flat-
bottomed and narrow-stormed, were lashed,
bottom up, on the deck ens, ready for use
when they reached the Ban ‘8.

The captain came down to the shore and cast
a seaman’s-look at the sky, then at the' sea, as
he-walkcd down‘rto tbeyva r’s edge near the
wharf, where Ned Norw ‘ stood by the bow
of a dory, holding the painterrin liisnhahd, ready
to cast ofl’. ' ‘ .

The angry expression had vanished from the
sailor’s face, and his voice was hearty and ap-
parenth good—humored as he asked:

“ Well, Ned, last aboard, as usual?”

Ned laughed as he answered:

“ It’s alwa s manners to wait for the skipper
and I had a ittle business to attend to before
started. The boys are all aboard.”

Darke gave him a quick, suspicious glance, as
he got into the dory, sayin :

_ ‘, A sailor’s business is to e aboard when the
tide’s at the full, my lad. Shove off and mind
you don’t scrape t e paint, coming alongside.

17 takes a: blank of a timetoknodk that into
some of your college tellers.”

Ned colored slightly as he shoved oil! and
took the oars to row out to the Flash. He was
more touchy on points of Seamanship than he
was willin to allow, because it was the only
thing in which his companion did not admit him
to an equality.

. Norwood; as he had let drop in his conversa-
tion with Alice, had seen better days. He had
been the son of a well-to-do Gloucester man
who had gone to Boston to make a fortune, and
had destined his son for the light of a learned
profession.

Ned had been to Harvard College, and was
near his raduation, with honors, when his fa-
ther sud enly failed, and, in his morbid de’s 

 

at his ruin, took morphine and was found
in his bed at a Boston hotel.

To the young man the failure and death came
as new on the same day. when he was study-
ing a speech for the valedictory of his class,
which he had been chosen to deliver, and they
dashed all his brilliant firospects at once.

It was then that ed Norwood showed,
for the first time in his life, of what stuff he
was made, inheriting much of the character of
his dead mother. whose loss, four years before,
had very seriousl affected him. .

Instead of yiel ing to the shock, he surprised
every one by passin a brilliant examination
and pronouncin the nest valodictory that had
been heard in arvard for many a ear.

Then he resolute] turned his bac on all the
odors of assistance 6 received from relatives,
and went to the place of his birth, the fishing
port of Gloucester, where he had spent his sum-
mer vacations from childhood, and whence he
had sailed, for fun, on manp a flshin voyage.
and set to work to earn his iving by is hands
as a sailor.

' While at college, with the respect da good
and early competency, he Em fallen in ove
with Alice Mason, daughter of Judge Mason an
old lawyer of the town into whose oflce he was
to have entered. \

Ttgajéldgfi had smiled on the fixegylagrgoa;
sen o t eir en a mom: an _
have been marriedgwglfen Edward W" “HIM
to ractice. .

ut the change in the young. man’s bright
prospects roduced a correspon ing change in
the world y-wise judge-

He was not cruel to Edward. He even altered
to take him in his oflce at once at a low salary
as a copying clerk; but when the young man
refused and told him he was oing to earn his .
living as a fisherman, the old Judge observed in -'
the dryest of tones: .. r
. “.Very well, as you please. If you prefer-to .

 

 

associate with the vulgar herd, make your bed...
' A . | I ' ‘ . ~ , 

 

 

 

 

 

  
 

 

Q



.n.

dubbed a“ the Doctor,” in fishing

 

   
  
  
   
 
 
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
 

  

. c ' _. . n... ._..-'v; .,‘-_,,.‘»

3

 

 

 

{The Fog Devil.

 

m l
and lie on it. But I don’t receive foremast,

hands in my house. You can consider your en-
gagement at an end. Good-day!"

And from that day, for two years, the judge
had turned his head whenever he saw Ned
coming, and had taken Alice to Boston, every
Winter, to keep her away from the young man.

But the old story of Love and the Locksmith
had been forgotten by Judge Mason, who was a

‘ good lawyer, but a. poor jud e of women.

Every one spoke well of orwood’s courage
and success in his new profession, and ever
one aided and abetted the lovers to meet at litt e
social gatherings, when the judge was away on
business.

Ned Norwood, fisherman before the mast, had
kept some of his fashionable clothes of college
days, and was a welcome guest in many a
house, where the judge never thou ht he en-
tered. The only other man who to owed the
568. and went to the same houses was Captain
Samson Darke, who owned several fine schoon-
ers, and divided his time between sea and shore,
as pleased him.

Darke was reputed to be worth a hundred
thousand dollars, and Judge Mason 0 only en-
couraged his visits, when he frown . on Ned
Norwood, but Darke kept to the sea in a way
that made people say he did it for'the love'of
the thing, so they voted him an oddity and in-
vited him to their houses, With all his rough
Ways and occasional lapses of speech.

Now he sat in the stern of the dory and gave 1

his orders to Ned, in the rough, faultefinding
style he aflected With the young man at sea.

“ Look out what you’re doing. Don’t try to
all broadside to the sea. I can pull a boat in
he heaviest weather, and not ship half as much

water as you’re doing now.
You pull as if you were afraid of the oars.
Steady now. You can’t come up to the weather
gangway. Haven‘t you learned that at? That’s
a. little better. I may make a sai or of you
some day if you try hard enough. Now then,
do you want to go overboard or knock all the
aint oil? the Flash? Heave a line, Landry!
at’s it. Now hold on to her, Nod, and look
out you don’t duck me. ”

He climbed aboard scolding and sneerin all
the time, and Ned Norwood et the dory rop
astern to be hooked onto the davits.

When he at last reached the deck he found
the crew of the Flash at work, casting loose the
foresail and jib, and manning the Windlass to
heave up the anchor.

There were quite a crowd of them, for fishing
schooners carry comparatively large crews to
man the dories and set the trawls, when a much
smaller complement is enough to work the
vessel.

The Flash had screw of which her captain
often boasted as the best in Gloucester, and as
having come from the ends or the earth to man
the pride of the trawling fleet.

There were no less than four pairs of brothers

I of different nationalities: Mike and Jim Clancy,

whose accent marked them from the Green Isle;
Baptiste and Marie Landr , French Canadians:
Malcolm and Murdock cCloud, from the
Hebrides: and Chresten and Hannes Olsen, Nor-
wegians; with Gamaliel Perry, Gloucester born,
for three generations. Besides these, there were
two more Irishman, Dan Murphy, the mate, and
Terry Ryan, the cook, who was the most impor-
tant person aboard in his way, and was always
parlance.

Captain Darke cast a look over the vessel, and
smiled as one well pleased, for the Flash was a
boat to be proud of. ‘ '

“ Haul taut the main throat halyards," he
cried in his fault-finding wa . “ Give the peak
a good pull, you lubbers. ’ye want to go to
sea with one of the Doctor’s udding-bags for a.
mainsail? Heave away at .t at Windlass there.
You, Norwood, are you gomg to sleeplover the
jib? Bend your back, man, and let or come
up. This is no place for slee y-heads. Hoist
away on that foresail. Live y pow! Hoist
away all. Heave away at that Windlass there!
One would think you were all in church, afraid
to disturb the congregation. There she comes.
You, Norwood get to that jib sheet. Do you
want to have the schooner in irons? That fore-
‘ ak’s sagging like in grandmother’s clothes-
ine. Give .her a pull. you Clancys, both
of ye! Sprlng to t, boys. ow she goes. Get
that anchor catte , you, Ned Norwood. Time
you waked up.”

The anchor left the sandy bottom .with a
Lark, and the Flash fell off as Ned Norwood

old the claw of the Jib Well over to starboard,
while the men at the Windlass worked like mad.
men, the schooner’s head swept round, and the
foresail filled with a bang .as Mike Clancy
chgclied it with th:d sheet, while Darke put the
w ea up, and oil :

“ Stand by t e main-sheet, you Landrys. Do
you want to spring the boom before we get
under way?’

Then 9.1 the sail filled together, and the Flash

‘ heeled over under the cold blast of the north-
.wester, as she pointed her long, delicate nose

seaward, and began to rush through the water

 like a sword-fish.

Dar-ks stood by the hel his gigantic figure
towering over everybody 3:1, deck, and watched

’ side as the

Lay out, man. “

 

his men with well-pleased lances, for they
were working in the style he iked to see. '

He was an energetic man, full of vitality.
good and bad, intense in his likes and dislikes
as the old Norse viking he resembled, and the
keenest pleasure of his life was that of going
out to sea with is tearing nerthWester on his
port quarter. ,

The schooner went bowlin along like a race-
horse under three whole sa is, but Darke was
not satisfied till he had put on all the 'ibs and
both gaff topsails, with the lee ra' of the
schooner almost into the water, which washed
in at the 'sculpper-holes all along the starboard

lash headed away for the Grand
Bank. The sea outside was short and choppy,
the stiff gale blowing the sprig in clouds over
the little schooner as she do ed through it,
while the white sails of fifty or more vessels of
different rigs dotted the sea. in all directions,
some steering the same come as the Flash,
others heading for the coast of Maine for lum-
her, or south and west toward the ports of the
different States.

The Flash was a lively boat, as they called
her, and had in her time given tough races to
more than one fancy yacht, while as a sea-boat
in heavy weather, she would go where not one
yacht in a hundred dared go.

The blue line of the distant coast of Marble-
head was becoming fainter momentarily, and
the white houses of Gloucester had faded into
the same mist azure, when they heard the
shrill whistle o the “Doctor " below, and Nor-
wood came aft and said to the captain:

“Dinner’s ready, skipper, and I’ll take her
along, while you get your grub.”

Darke relinquished the spokes with a singular

look in his eyes that Norwood didn’t under-,

stand till long afterward, as he said:

“You’re very kind to look after my comfort.
I suppose you think I’d do the same for you.”

Norwood stared as if surprised, as he took the
wheel, but he only answered:

“ I don’t suppose any such thin , sir. You’re
the skip r, I in only a foremost and. I don’t
sup se t’s my duty to go below, and leave you
fas get the wheel.”

Dar e stuck his hands into the pockets of his
big pea-jacket and lanced round before he an-
swered. Part of t e crew had already gone
below to dinner, the other half were on deck;
for the forecastle would not hold all at one time
so they had divided into gangs.

“You’re very considerate of your duty to me
on board the schooner,” said Darke slowly,
“ but you’re not so nice ashore, my lad. D’ye
know that, Ned Norwood?"

As he spoke, he turned his fierce gray eyes on
Norwood, who for the first time saw that the
ca tain looked pale and savage.

n his momentary inatten ion to the post he
had assumed, and fascinated by the glare of the
captain’s fierce eyes, Norwood lost sight of the
vane at the mast-head, and the sohooner’s bows

came sweeping up into the wind, when, without «

a moment’s warning, the big man fegcnlliied him a
tremendous blow with his open h on the
side of the head, growling:

“Keep her off, ye white-handed college lub-
ber! D’ye know no better than that?"

It was the first time Darke had given him a
blow or a harsh word; for her generally did his
rebuking in the form of good-natur banter.
Edward Norwood staggered under the shock,
but held on to the wheel, while Duke put his
hands back in his ckets with a sneer, and
sauntered awa to t e companion-hatch, going
down-stairs w thout another word.

As for Norwood, he kept his place at the
wheel, feeling sick and dizzy from the blow for
several moments, while his heart swelled with
indignation and shame.

Blows are so rare in the fishing-fleet, where
a democratlaequality of interest binds together
crew and captain, that such a blow as he had
just received was all the more gelling.

True, he was before the mast and Darke was
the captain: true,~he had let the schooner lufi?
for a moment through inattention to his work;
but the captain himself had distracted his at-
tention, and e was the last man in the world
who should ave struck him. So at least Ed-
ward thought.

Had he been in any other position, the blow
would have been less brutal and dastardly. He
could not let go the wheel without serious dan-
ger to all the crew and Darke knew it. and had
struck him without provocation, before half the
company of the Fine .

He ke t his hold however. and steered on, not

retending to notice anything but his-duty, his
ps firmly compressed, his teeth clinched, his
whole frame rigid With an er. The men on
deck glanced at him furtive as if they were
astonished at the captain’s su den exhibition of
violence. but said nothing to him, nor be to
them, till the first gang came on deck again.

CHAPTER III.
Tim minder wares.
Ir was Mike Clancy who came to relieve Ned
at the wheel, saying:
“The Doctor’s ub’s fligant, Professor, and
it’s not long we’ll havin fresh to to. Take
it while it’s hot. What's the  ,, r .

 

i 1"

,  ~‘-.. -.',1. ,

at in he d do back garde sneaking
after daring? 8., ,n’
. ' The young man flushsddeeplya id then tank

 

“East by south," answered Norwood shortly,
as hie reliqnuiahed the wheel and went for-
war .

h_ ike noticed his gloomy face and called after
im:

"' What the divil’s the matter with ye, Ned!
Has yer girl gone back on yo, or are ye goin’ to
be so. -sickl”

“ either,” was the unexpected interruption
of the skipper himself, who came rolling aft,
smokin his pipe, “ the Professor was star-gas.
ing an I he to bring him to his bearings.
that‘s all, Mike. He’ll make a sailor when he's
had a few more lickings to get him in shape."

For a moment Ned Norwood was tempted to
repl , but he knew the terrible power possest
by t 8 master even of a fishing-schooner, if he
chose to exercise it, and after the sudden
specimen of Darke’s arbitrary temper sh
be irritated, the youn man thong t it prudent
to go below in silence 0 his dinner.

Usually he had a ood health appetite, and
the “ Doctor‘s " stea s were go , but Ned Nor-
wood ate but little that day, and seemed to
carry the mark of the blow he had received in
a crimson brand on his cheek.

In fact the captain’s heavy hand had marked
him, and one of his mates below—~Baptiste Lan-
dry—innocently asked:

‘ Vat for de skeeper he strike you, Professeurl
By gar it make von firint of all do fingaire in
red. O’etai’t um lac ete."

“Never mind ” said Norwood gloomily, “ the
trip won’t take long, and I’ll give him no chance
to strike me again. It serves me right, I sup-
pose, but I didn’t expect it of him.” _ . ,

In fact, up to that day he and Duke had
been the best of friends at sea, while on shore
they had met at houses where the social superi-
ority of the younger man had been freely con.
ceded by Darke, who had shown no jealousy. ~

They got through dinner and lighted their
pipes, even Norwood smoking furiously to dull
the excitement under which he was laborin
from brooding over the blow he had receiv ,
and then came a hoarse shout down the hatch-
wa from Murphy the mate.

‘ All hands lay aft to thumb the hat.”

“ Thumbing the hat" is a method of choosing
watches b lot, in vogue among the fishing-vea-
sels, and he second dinner gang went aft to
obey the order, while the “Doctor,” or cook,
left his dishes and roceeded to the wheel, as a
man who was free rom watch duty.

The crew of the Flash, ten innumber, took
hold of a hat, standing in a circle with their
thumbs on the rim of the inverted head-
piece, and Captain “" “re turned his back, any-

ln :

5‘ Six is the number, boys. Ready."

Then he reached out his hand backward and
placed his forefinger on one of the thumbs at
random.

“ hose is it?” he asked.
“ Mine, sur,” responded Mike Clancyéd

The on tain turned round and coun six of
the b , horny thumbs till he came to the
Norwegian, Chresten Olsen. .

. “ My watch,” he said; then counted six more,
till he came to Baptiste Landry. ,

“ Larboard watch ” he said.

Then he counte again, till he had as-
signed to each his watch, and ended with the
words:

“ Mind whom on call.”

The crew of t e Flash was divided into two '
watches. The captain had the two Norwe 'ans
Mike Clancy, Marie Landry, Murdock Mc loud
and Edward Norwood. ~ -

Murphy had the rest.

It was not till then that Jim Clancy suddenly
turned pale, and burst out: -

“Holy smoke, skipper, d’ye mind it now— ,
We’ve a Jonah on board!’

“A J onah?” echoed Darke uneasil , while all
the hardy fishermen looked at one other and
seemed to be frightened. “ What do you mean!
Where‘s the Jonah?" I ‘ ,

Jim turned round as if uncertain, and be an
to count inaudibly to himself, till he aid at st
in an accent of resignation;

“ Captain, darlin’, we’ll have no luck this trip
or ,me name’s not Jim Clanc . There’s just
thirteen aboord the craft, an one or us will
never see Gloucester again, sure as eggs is eggs.
D’ e mind that now!”

a tiste Landry burst into a groan.

“ b, man Dim .' and to—day is Vendredi—it
is Friday, by gar! Ve catch no feesh dis trip,
so sure, so sure,”

Darke burst into a harsh laugh.

“Ye superstitious idiots,” he said. “don’t ye
know the Flash was launched a Friday and
she’s had more luck than any boat in the fleet,
Thirteen! Who cares for hit-kll Good sailors
beat luck and make it serve them. Jonah! Yes,
maybe we have a Jonah aboard; but if we have
’tis but to do as the fellows in the 00d book did
with their Jonah Larhoard wato , get to our
qunrters. No more talk about Jonahs. or-
wood, take the wheel and let the Doctor go be:
low. And look out on steer steady, or I'll
make on see more than you ever gazed
round

I
\

 

 

 

4

The Fog Devil.

 

 

ed white; but controlled himself with a strong
«Hurt and took the wheel, while the Flash
darted forward on her course like a race-horse,
and the wind fresheuing every moment as they
get further to sea, made the topmasts bend like
whips and caused more than one uneas glance
aloft. The mate’s watch went below, 3 lent and
sullen, to tell all sorts of superstitious stories
about the Jonahs they had known in past days,
and to point to the innumerable instances in
which the unlucky person had brought disaster
on the ship in which he sailed.

They were angered by the captain’s open
scorn of the superstition they all believed in
devontly, and began to discuss his sin lar
harshness, so suddenly shown to Edward or-
wood. who was a favorite with all.

“ "I‘ll a mane shame to strike a good man like
that,” observed Jim Clancy to Baptiste Landry.
“ I saw it meself and be jabers, av we wer’n’t
near blue water I’d be strikin’ work so I would
and let him work the Flash alone.”

“Hoot, mon,” Malcolm McCloud retorted,
“’tis nae concern of ours. If the skeeper hits
ye on the lug once yersel maybe ye’d think so.

mind me this Norwood’s a dainty lad that pits

loves on his paws to keep ’em white, and it’s
ime the skipper took it out of him.”

Ba tiste 3 00k his head.

“ y ar dat not eat.”

“ An what is it then?” asked Jim.

“It is um femme—a voman. I see. You
will find out. I know, I know. De French is de
pew dat know, by gar.” .

colm McCloud puifed at his pi but made
, no answer: the subject was becom ng too deep
for a sailor when women were brought in as fee-
and the conversation was dropped.
eantlme the Flash held on her course to the
east and the day wore on, the wind still
keepilng rom the same quarter and blowing
Jobs thatDarke had to take in his topnails
and flying jib to avoid carrying away his light

spars.

Astor Norwood he continued at the wheel
and attended to his business so well that Darke
found no further excuse for striking him, though
he continued to pace the deck near the young
man in a surly manner so unlike his usual air
that the men on deck noticed and muttered to
each other about what could be the matter with
,the skipper and what had set -him against “ the

fessor.”

Norwood, from having let drop the fact of
his having been at college had been dubbed the
“ Professor,” and was regarded as a prodigy of
learning from the fact that he knew how to
work a uadrant and chronometer.

When is trick at the wheel was over he went
below to turn in and was allowed to sleep till
midnight when his turn came- a ain and he
went on deck with Murdock M loud,to find
the moon hi h in the sk the wind sunk foa
fair breeze, t e Flash gli ing along over large
smooth swells with every stitch of canvas set
and drawing, while up in the northern sky a
magnificent aurora was sending role; streamers
fighting to the unith such as he h never seen

ore.

McCloud took the wheel and Norwood went
forward to the bow on the lookout. The cold
of the weather had moderated considerably and
the beauty of the sea in the moonlight was in-
creased b the phosphoresence of the water.
He and cCloud were alone, for the whole
watch was not called on deck, two men being
ample to run a. schooner unless sail has to be
spread or reduced.

He had almost forgiven the blow he had re-
ceived in the morning, and began to ascribe it
to some infirmity of temper in the captain,
when as he was gazing dreamily out at the bow,
forgetting everything as he leaned against the
coil. of the huge cable, he heard a stealth ste
onthe other side of the foremost, and coke
round to encounter the face of Darke himself,
the gray eyes glaring at him with a singular
expression of half menace, half row, as the
ca tain said in a low tone:

‘ Well, Ned Norwood, we’re alone now. Did

ye understand what I said to ye, to-da y i”

I “On my honor, no," answered Norwood in a

tone of earnest expostulation. “ I waslutterly

astounded by it, Captain Darke. You had been

the kindest of captains to me, up to the moment
you struck me without cause—”

Darke‘s lip curled in a sneer.

“Without cause, ye lubberl D’ye call bad
steerin no cause?”

“We 1, I admit that,” said Ned hurriedly,
“ but you know as well as I do, that l was
startled by your tone and forgot myself for a
single instant. Surely a word would have been
allvsufiicient, from you, without a blow you
would not have dared give on shore.”

He had become angry again at the memory,
and spoke warmly, when Darke, just assud-
denly as before, and without more warnin ,
dealthim a blow. on the side of the head wi h
his clinched fist that stretched Norwood on the
deck. the captain growling in suppressed tones:

, “Not dared, eh? I’ll show on. whether I
dare or not, ye white-handed In her.”

The blow was a severe one, and Ned lay sick
and dizzy for a moment.

I

i with a kick.

 

; “Get up, ye lazy hound,’I growled Darke,

  

“Get up], if ye don’t want to be
thrown out for a Jone .”

Ned rose up slowly and resumed his post,
havin made up his mind to say no more. He
thougfit the captain’s mind was wandering, and
to With dispute such a man was to inVite his
own destruction.

Darke laughed in a low sneering way.

“ Ye think I daren’t strike e when I will,"
he said sardonically. “ May ye think that
ye could handle Samson Darke ashore. I’ve

card the boys tell how ye were what they call
a boxer, and perhag ye think ye can box me,
. ye college-bredlub r. I’ll give ye leave to try
now, and hold e harmless for mutiny.”

Norwood loo ed up at the giant, and his eyes
flashed as he answered:

“ You know I can’t do it. You’re captain
and I’m a foremast hand. You can do as you
please. I can’t strike ’back. here.”

“ Here,” echoed the captain mockingly. “ But
ye will, when we get to Gloucester agnin, per-

aps! How d’ye know ye’ll see Gloucester
again!”

Norwood gave an imperceptible start as the
other spoke, and turned his head to look in
Darke’s face. It was pale as ashes, and the cap-
tain‘s eyes glittered like those of an evil demon.

The young man was supple and vi orous in
frame, though not within fifty poun s of the
giant captain, and he was courageous to rash-
ness, but for a moment he quailed before Darke,
and the older seamen laughed. '

“ Aha,” he growled, “ ye hlench, do ye? And
you're the boy that thinksto cross my path and

ive, are ye?”

“ Cross your path?" echoed Ned, his momen-
tary tremor vanishing in surprise. “ How have
I ever crossed your path, captain?”

Darke lau hed. '

“ Ye don’t now, don’t ye? Where are ya to
go on the next tri in June?"

Norwood look at the other amaaedly. A
new light was breakin in on him. Darke was
jealous of him, having earned that be had been
offered the command of the new schooner Flirt.

“ I don’t know,” he answered hesitatingly.
“ I’ve been offered a schooner, captain; but I
don’t know if I’ve experience enough to warrant
me in takin the responsibility. But in any
event, I won d not think of interfering with you
in any way.” I

Darke lau had again in the same bitter, mock—
ing way be ad shown all along.

‘Interfere with mel” he said: “ ye boy, 6
child, ye beardless baby, d’ye think a thing li c
you could interfere with Samson Darke?”

“The sea’s wide enougli for all,” said Ned,
more firml . “ I’ve a rig t to en age in busi-
ness as we] as any one else, haven t I?”

Darke eyed him in the same surly way as be-
fore as he answered: .

“ Ye have, I suppose.”

“Then what have I done to
asked Ned, “ to anger you so?
my duty in any way ?"

‘I don’t intend ye shall.” was the ungracious
retort. “ I’ll make the Flash a hell on earth to
ye if ye try any tricks on me, Ned Norwood.
Mark that. I’ve got ye in my watch, and I’ll
mil?” ye rue the day ye ever crossed my
pa . .

“ But at least tell me,”expostulated Ned. “ in
what way, I have crossed your path. I am
not conscious of it. Have I ofi’endedyou on
shore?”

“ Ye have,” was the gruff re 1y.

Ned revolved in his mind al e could think
of. He had last met Darke in a mixed company.
when the latter had been unusually silent and
grumpy all the evening, while Ned had eniioyed
the happiness of having Alice with him, a most
undisturbed.

But he had never connected Alice with Darke,
though whis rs hrld reached him that Judge
Mason woul like to have the great boat owner
for a son-in—law.

Darke was so little of a lady’s man and Alice
so rarely met him that Norwood failed to re—
alize the truth as he asked:

“ What have I done i”

Darke‘came close to him, and looked as if he
were about to strike him. as he growled:

“ Ye’ve hung round back doors too long, Ned.
I’m going to marry Alice Mason. D’,ye hear?
Her father’s promised I shall, and Jon ve got to
get out of that. D’ye understand.

Ned started back, exclaimin : ‘

“ Great Heavens, is it possib e’l You? I never
dreamed of it—”

Darke interriépted harshly:

“ Ye didn’t, idn’t ye? e know it now. In
a word, will ye ve her up or no?”

He looked so t toning that Norwood saw
he was about to strike, and the young man
sprung back behind the coils of the cable, say-
ing, in a tone of e lation:

‘ Darke, Darke, consider; this is not fair, not
manly, bi as you are, and captain, to take ad-
vantage 0 me like this.”

His words seemed to recall a glimmer of rea-
son to the captain, who remained where he was,
and rowled out:

“ moaptainof this boat. 13’ e promise or
not!’ If’ye don’t,l’ll_inakethe too hotto
hold ye. . _ ,. y

on, captain ”
ave I failed in

       
  

. I

 

Norwood hesitated.

“Darke, hear reason.” he protested; “this is
not seaman’s duty. I cannot give her up; I'
cannot. It’sim ssible. Icannottell you why.
but it’s impossib e.”

“Wbyi’ asked Darke, in the same loweringr
 “Answer quick, for your life depends all

“My life!” echoed Norwood; “ why, surelv
on would not murder a man that’s done you no
arm? It cannot be hidden. It is impossible—"

Darke laughed in a low, sneering tone.

“It cannot, eh? We’ll see about that.

refuse, do ye?”

“ Why? Ye’d better tell me. I warn ye.”

Norwood looked round in desperation, for he
saw that the captain’s hand was upon a lieevv
locust belaying—pin, as deadly as a policemnn’s
club, and he knew he had no chance to fig: r,
back without mutiny. Murdock McCloud w- r-L
still at the Wheel, and no one else on deck; as.
Darke repeated:

“ Why do ye refuse?”

“ Because we’re married already,” said Ed'—
ward, stung to desperation by the persecution.
“Now, Samson Darke, do your worst. Kill me
if you dare. and, as sure as there’s a God in
heaven, you’ll swing for it. 1 def youl”

Samson Darke looked at him rom head to
foot, his hard clutching the bela ing-pin: but
Norwood never quaileo. Then t e giant cap-
tain nodded his head slowly.

“ Married, are ye? Hum!” was all he said,
and with that he walked aft and disappeared
into his cabin without another word.

CHAPTER IV.
LOST IN THE MIST.

NED Noawoon was disturbed no more on his
watch, thou h the strange behavior of the cap—
tain made h in so nervous that he kept glancing
back over his shoulder half the time, expecting
to see that gigantic figure behind the coils of the
cable with Weapon upraised to strike.

The schooner sailed on, and as it went the
swell rew longer and smoother, with a certain
oily g 08: upon it that indicated the neighbor—
hood of ice.

Norwood found it getting colder, while the
breeze fell, and began to stamp about the deck
to keep warm, looking out over the bow, till,
on asudden, something glittered in the moon-
light ahead of him. and e caught the glint of
ice down on the horizon.

he went aft instantly to report, and found
the lantern burning in he cabin, but the cap-
tain lay in his bunk, aggrentl asleep.

Ned went to him an uchedy his arm.

“Ice ahead, sir,” he said uietly.

Darke opened his 9 es an looked at him with
the strange stare be ad shown all along.

“Ice ahead—hum! How far?”

‘ “A few miles, I think. sir.
to call the larboord watch.”

“Call ’em then,” said Darke.

Then, in a musing tone, as if recalling some—
thing to his memory, he added:

“ So you’re marriedl Hum) Married:
Hum!”

Ned Norwood made no reply, but went to
call the watch; and in half an hour after was
down in his bunk, dreaming of Alice. He had
no fear the captain would assault him in the
midst of the crew.

When he waked up next morning at the sum—
mons to go on deck, the motion of the schooner
told him that the wind had changed, before he
put his head above the hatches; for theiFlasb
was pitching and rolling violently.

As soon as he got on deck he saw that the sky
was covered with gray clouds, in re ular lines.
with dull whitish edges; that a thic mist was
driving down from windward, and that the sea
had assumed the black, speckled appearance
peculiar to storm waves, straked With foam
and crowned with angry crests. ‘

The Flash was stri ped to jib and mainsail.
both close-reefed, an every now and then the
steersman had to keep her 03, when a wave of
more thancommon hight threatened to break
over the little vessel.

Captain Darke, his huge sea~boots spread wide
apart, his hands in his pockets, stood near the
wheel watching the weather, while the crew
were staggering to and fro about different
duties. and Male Murphy was heaving the log.

Ashe ordered the line hauled in, he said to
Darke:

“ Bedad, captain, we’ve come two hundred
and fifteen mi es,
missed the Banks, I’m thinkin’. \

“Hea‘ve the lead,” res nded Darke, briefly.
“I know where we are, if you don’t.”

The dee sea lead went flying from the bows,
and Jim lancy re orted seventy-five fathoms.

“ Let me see the end,” said the ca tain.

Darke glanced at the tallow-arm bottom, all
covered with dark mud and sand, then glanced
round atrthe prospect.

The mist was closin in on them, the sea was
running masthead-big , and it was evident that
a storm was coming down.

“ We’ll try

So ye

 

It’s almost time

' “Let 0 the anchor,” he said.
here wit
trawls. All hands on deck. Get to work.” > -

.
A. ,,

the hand-lines till we can soothe _ _'

 

AS

:6-

and not a sail in sight. We’ve .

i

i
l

is.

 

- . . “25.4w”; .. _, (.2:

\

.r
..

75%”  37-54» "la-Aha... ...'_.. .fi» vs”! ‘ ,.*  ,i a... _ .. 

The Fog Devil.

 

~ ... :9.

5

 

Half a dozen men rushed to the anchor, which
went down into the depths of the ocean, and the
huge pile of Mauilla cable began to diminish
ra idly as the line ran out. _ _ .

n, on ran the cable, which seemed as if it
were never going to stop, till Baptiste Landry
sung out to the quarter-deck:

“ She take, ca itaine; she take aholt."

“Pay out till tell you to st0p," was the only
reply. “Let go the jib, there. Let her swing.
i’ziy out two hundred and twenty fathoms, boys.
“We’ll need it all.”

it seemed a risky undertaking for a little
schooner like the Flash to cast anchor in the
open sea in the midst of such a storm as every
one knew must be coming on, but such are the
ordinary perils of a. Grand Banker's life, where
vesssls ride out severe storms entirely unshel-
tere .

The crew paid out more than half the cable—
it was four hundred fathoms in length—and
bound around it the protectin “ strads —pieces
of old rope fastened to the ca le to keep it from
chafing in the hawse pipe—and then out came
the frozen herring for bait, and over the side of
the Flash went the hand-lines, goingI down into
seventy-five fathoms in search of fls ._

And h‘ardly were they down when Jim Clancy
yelled i-xci‘edly: _

“ Be jahers we sthruck ’im that time, boys.
A hundred-pounder, a two—a three—bedad, he
weighs a ton. Mike, Mike. for the lovo of the
saints give us a hand, or the diVil Will have me
overbosrd.” ,

Ba tiste, on the other Side, roared:
“ Igalibut, by gar! Oh, man Dieu, how he
1 1"

And then all the lines were kept hard at work,
the men running to help each other at intervals. .
and swinging in the huge fishes, wh‘ch ran all
the way from a hundred to a hundred and fifty
or two hundred pounds, so that it took two or
three men with gafl‘hooks to get them aboard
and slat them down into the deck pens, as fast

as tlaery could pull them in.

“ ho said there was no luck this trip?”
cried the bi captain, exultjn ly. “There’s a
hundred dol ars aboard alrea y. and more to
come.”

Murdock McCloud looked up at the sea as he
shook the book out of the mouth of a huge hali-
but, and muttered:

“ The trip’s no over yet. skeeper.”

" They were still in the first excitement of hav-

- ing chanced on such a feedin -ground, when the

schooner gave a tremendous urch, and a great
sea came dashing in over the bows, sweeping
the decks in a. great, grim wall. carrying one of
the men bodily up against the foot of the main-
mast, and making the Flash quiver like a reed
in the wind.

iAt the same minute down came the black
curtain of mist and the tempet began to bowl
through the rigging of the little vessel, while
the crew hastily hauled in the hand-lines and
prepared to make the Vessel “snug” for the
storm that was on them.

They hauled down the mainsail and set in
its place a little triangular ra called the “ rid-
ing sail,” that just sufliced to cop the schooner
head to the waves, while they hastily out o n
and cleaned the fish they had taken, watching
their chance to throw them down into the ice-
pens in the hold. _

Not once did it seem to suggest itself to a soul
aboard the Flash to out the cable and run for
shelter. They had all ridden out worse gales
than this promised to be, before that, and, had
'the course been suggested, Darke would have
answered:

“ What! leave a ground like this for a few
seas? Not while halibut’s worth what it fetches
on the wharf.”

It was rough. rapid work getting the fish
rmidv, of which they already had near two
tlinusin pounds, caught in less than ten min-
ut‘ s; bu the work was over at last: the dressed
fish thrown into the ice-pens in the hold, the
hatch shut down, and all the crew dived below
except the anchor-watch lookout, whose duty
was to call all hands in case of danger.

And the lookout that day was Ned Norwood,
all alone in a. storm of snow and sleet in the
midst_of a howling waste of black seas, With
the mist so thick round him that nothing could
be seen but the tops of the waves, and the sleet
so blinding one could only catch a glimpse to
windward by snatches.

However. the lookout duty on the, Banks is
most iiu ortant, and the safety of everybody
on boar depended 0“ Ned’s eyesight. He
knew that they were 0'5} 3 Part of the Bank

. rarely fre uented by fifihlng Vesselvbut nearly
in the true of the 09881! Steamers and he re-
membered also the ice that he bad man the
night before when he went oflf watch.

What had become of that ice?

For all he knew in the darkness and mist. it
might be onlya few billows away, and if it
came on them Heaven help the schooner! i

How long he staid at his t there in the
dark afternoon that settled own on them he
could not tell, for they don’t count time rigidly
on the Banks: but he thought it must be near

with ecLual suddenness, subsiding in less than

half an our, while a dense fog rose.

d He went to the companionway, and called
own:

“ Captain, I think there’s ice near. ”

“Why do on think so?" queried Darke,
a sneer. “ hat do you know about ice?’

“The sea’s gone down, sir, and we’re under
the lee of somethiu . The water begins to look
oily, and I’m afrai we‘ll be caught,” returned
Ned, as calmly as he could.

“All hands on deck.” cried Darke to the men
in the forecastle. “ We’ve time to get in a few
fish, I reckon. before night.”

The eager fishermen rushed up, and began to
thgow their lines again, till the captain gave the
or er:

“ Haul in those side-lines. Get out the dories,
and set the trawls. We can’t fool away our
time on hand-fishing."

“Get out the doriesl Heave in your trawl
tubs, and bait trawls,” was the next order, and
‘very soon the deck of the Flash presented a
busy scene, as the men were busy at work on
the long lines, set with shorter lines and hooks
at intervals of every two fathoms, that fig by
the name of “trawls,” on the Banks. hese
trawls, with one or two hundred books on each,
are coiled away in tubs, and furnished, at each
end, with an anchor and buoy line, by which
they are set along the bottom of the see. where
the fish feed.

It was rapid work for the fishermen in gangs
to bait trawl after trawl, and as fast as each
was baited and coiled away in its tub, it was
hoisted into a dory, and two men rowed ofl to
set it.

The sea, as Ned Norwood had noticed, had
gone down entirely into a smooth, oily swell,
and the density of the fog showed that the
wind had comp etely vanished.

Such squalls, ending in fog, are not uncom~
mon on the Banks, but in such cases the sea sel-
dom goes down so suddenly, and the anchored
trawlers sometimes nearly roll their masts
out.

Ned Norwood was the first to have the
schooner in his dory, along with Mike Clancy,
who was his mate, and hey pulled steadi y
away into the fog. guided by the sound of the
schooner‘s bell, kept tolling by the “Doctor,”
till Mike said:

“Avast, rowin’ honey. Bedad, it’s meself
that don’t like the looks of things here. Let’s
set the trawl, and find the schooner av we can.”

They ceased rowing, and hove over the end
of the trawl, with its anchor and eighty fath-
oms of line, at the end of which they set afloat
a buoy, with a red flag to mark the spot.

Then they paid out the rest of the trawl and
rowed to the end of the other buoy-line. and
when it was all overboard. Mike said soberly:

“ Bedad, it‘s all very nice, Misther Professor.
We’ve set the trawl, but divil a hell do I hear,
and how are we goin’ to find the schooner!”

He stood up and began gaping round in the
white to w ich covered everythin with its
mantle o oblivion, over which a dar shadow
was beginning to creep as the night came on.

Then he began to look scared.

“Holy

with

c “ Bedad. I m lost.” he muttered.
mother 0‘ Moses, which is north, anyway?”
Ned Norwood saw the look on his face. and
could not help a singular feeling of fear from
rising in his heart. , _ . .

As Mike had said, there was nothing to indi-
cate in any manner the points of the compass or
the direction of the Flash. Only one uniform
veil of white mist covered everything. only one
intense silence pervaded the sea. which was
smooth as a mill-pond. The hell no longer
tinkled.

The bow and stern of the dory rose and fell
with a gentle motion not more than a few inches
at a. time, showing that some swell still existed,
but there was not even the li ing of a wavelet
to disturb the silence by soun ing, on the bottom
of the boat.

“Sit down. Mike.” he said quiet! . “If we
at frightened we’re lost for g Let me
him: a little. Which way did we head from the

schooner when we left her?”

Mike looked puzzled.

“ Serra one 0’ me knows even which way she
was heading.”

Then he uttered a low groan.

- “Holy Mother purtect us! Maybe it’s a tin
days’ fog.”
Ned lifted his hand. ' '

“Don‘t be frightened I tell you. We‘ve got
to keep our heads clear. or we’re lost indeed.
Where’s the buoy flag? That will guide us."

Mike looked eagerly over the side of the dory
and uttered an exclamation of great thankful-
ness as he ejaculated:

“ Ye‘ve more sinse than a twenty years’ traw-
ler. Professor so ya have. Yonder ’tis."

looke, ovar the water and saw the red
flag. like a little tuft of grass, almost vanished
in the fog. _ '

“ Take the oars,” he said quietly. “ I’ll watch
it while you row. If we miss that, we’ve noth-
in to start from.”

ike dropped into his seat and began to row,

 

sunset when the sea began to 0 down. with a

' , 'rapiditythat amused him, w e the wind fell

‘, ,\‘ \\. l  ‘ \'

but it seemed as if he were rowing againstsome

V Itrong current for the littlexned blots remained

". .‘ ; k I,  k.

 

 

as indistinct as ever in the fast~gathering dark-
ness, and when the finally got up to it and
Ned placed his ban on the stick, Clancy ob-
served:

“Holy smokel the tide’s runnin’ like a mill-
race. Professor.”

“So much the better for us,” replied Ned in a
cheerful tone. “ I’ve been thinking things over,
Mike. ‘ Which gangway did we go over ’

“ Starboard,’
hesitation. ‘ Don’t ye remember, Professor,
how mo brother Jim was baitin’ a trawl an
near stuck a hook into me leg? He was sittin’
on the starboard rail, forninat the main riggin’."

“ Very good,” answered Ned. “ Then we
pulled straight away across this tide, for the
Flash must have been riding with her head to
it, and it must have carried us down some way
astern. before we set the trawl.”

“You're right,” assented Mike, “ but which
way’s the schooner, thin?” .

"Listen. We are off on the starboard quar-
ter of the Flash, not more than half a mile on,
probably.”

“But which way is she?" asked Mike in a
tone of irritation. “What the divil do I care,

 

if we don‘t know where the starboard quarter .

a, Professor?”
Ned rapped on the nwale of the boat.
“How am I to tel you, if you won’t, listen.
It’s as easy as A, B, C.’

"’Asy as A, B, C. Thin it’s no wonder I don’t 4

know; for sorra letter c’u’d I iver l’arn.”

Ned could not resist a, smile.

“Well, as easy as boxing the compass then.
P” show you in a minute. Here’s the trawl-
buoy with the flag.”

" Any tool can see that,” responded Mike.

“You didn't, till I told you,” retorted Ned a
little warmly. “ Well. f this tide hasn’t
changed since we rowed out, we’re lying the
same way as the schooner, for we’re swingin
on the trawl-line, just as if we were anchored?
We’re on the starboard quarter of the Flash,
and she must be on our port bow. Now do you
understand, Mr. Clancy "

He poin‘ed out into the fog as he spoke, and
Mike eiaculatsd:

“ Ho Mother 0’ Moses! av coorse she is.
Bedad, was near sayin’ it meself. Ye wouldn’t
have found it, if it hadn’t been for me.”

Ned was about to answer when they heard ‘I
the faint muflled tinkle of a bell in the very'di-

motion which he pointed and almost immedi-
ately after came another and deeper toned hell
1!). exactly the opposite direction. Mike jam

up excitedly; «

“ ’Tis a vessel in the fog, and she's big," he
cried. “ Hark. d’ye hear nothing?”

Both men sat down and listened intently. A.
faint muffled sound came boomin over the
water with uncertain direction, and ike whis-
pered excitedly:

“ 'Tis a steamer coming. Holy Mother! she‘ll
run us down, sure. ”

The booming sound went on till it became
clearly recognizable as the churning of a large
screw-propel
became at the same time more and more com-
plete till Mike whispered:

“ e’re in for it,be jabersl We’ll have to g '
“ Bend '

stay out all night, Professor.”

‘ Ithink so,’ replied Ned quietly.
the end of the painter round the trawl-line,,
Mike. We’ll have to lie here till morning. ” ’

Mike obeyed, and they fastened the v end ' of
the boat’s painter to the ine under the buoy, the
ominous trembling and churning of the steamer
coming closer every moment; the darkness so
thick that it could almost be felt; the cold,
clammy fog wrapping up the boat like a wet
blanket.

It was an embarrassing strait to be in, but
not as yet anything more. Dories are often lost
in fogs on the Banks; but the special Providence
that seems to watch over sailors generally
brings them into company of other vessels be—
fore it is too late. .

The regular pulsing of the coming teamer
could not be exactly located. butit soon became
evident that the course of the ship would not
take it over them, so they were spared that ad—
ditional peril. ‘

For a while it grew louder and louder, and
they heard the deep notes of the bell in the fog,-
accompanied by the hoarse boom of a steam
whistle in lon blasts, while the sound of the
steam showed t at the strange vessel was gain
at low speed. Then it grew fainter again and
Mike said:

“ She’s passed us, Professor. We won’t be
sunk.”

They heard soon after the faint tiukle of the
Flash‘s bell. as they sup ed, and the steamer
gave several blasts and s opped her engines.

“ Bedad, he’ll run over the skipper av he
don’t look out,” ejaculated Mike.

Then came a great tinkling and tolli , with
several other blasts, and they heard the amor
50 off, afteiéhwhich the“l silencetgf death settled ‘

own over 0 an even e ceased
to toll her bell. sea,

“Make ureelf comfortable fort night," ‘
said Ned orwood, calm . “ We'l be better

, as we've, not
watch for a while.”

" .<.‘ ,. "

for asleep to eat. I’ll hoot

..., "5‘ ,. . i it
.4 .,. . » _

.J.  .2}-a~,(l,"' .. .  .l .. _ ,V‘

said Mike without a moment’s V

er in the water, but the darkness -

 

 

6

l

The Fog Devil.

 

 

Mike stretched himself philoso hically in the
bow of the dory, and wrapped is heavy pea-
jacket round him.

“ Bedad, you’re right, Professor,” be ob—
served. ‘ A nap’s next to a male to a hungry
man; but me insides is growlin’, like they was
a litter of puppies, be jabers.”

Nevertheless, in five minutes afterward, the
regular snores of the son of Erin announced
that he had forgotten his hunger, and Ned set
himself down in the dory’s stern-sheets to think
over the, situation, till, insensibly, he also suc—
cumbed to fatigue, and fell into a disturbed and
dreamy doze.

How long he had sle t he did not know,
when he was wakened y some one pulling
him and heard Mike’s voice, shaking with fear:

“Wake up, Professor,” muttered Mike, “ and
look at the say. Be jabers, the divil’s around.”

Ned woke up and looked round him. '

The fog was as thick as ever, but something
white seemed to be shaping itself out of the
darkness, something vague, shadowy and un—
real, like a cloud, and, forth from the darkness
above it, gleamed a pair of eyes, that seemed
to be glaring down on the occupants of. the
boat with malignant, fiery speculation. In a
moment Ned had scrambled up and sat staring,
spellbound.

 

CHAPTER V.
rm: COMING or THE 101;.

. ALL around the boat eyerythin was silent
as the grave, as the white thing 5 owly sailed
‘ ’ ~ by them, with the fiery eyes watching, and
then they heard a low moaning sound that
. seemed to come from the depths o. the sea, and
v the eyes vanished in the cloud.
‘ The thing, whatever it was, moved slowly by
them, and as slowly vanished into the same
black darkness from whence it had come, when
Mike whispered:
“Holy Mother! what was it, Professor?"

Norwood started at the question, and slapped

the unwale of the dory, forcing a laugh.
_ “ hat was it? Why, a piece of ice of course.
i 'v ' What else could it be, Mikel We’re a couple of
' . fools to be so disturbed."
» “Ay, ay ” muttered Mike in the same guard-
ed way, ‘ but ice don’t have e es, and it don’t
’ groan. It’s worse than that, rofessor?"
“What do you say it is, then?” asked Nor—
wood lightl , not unwilling to prolong the con—
ver‘sJation, n the hope 0 w iling away the
ni t. I
ardly were the words out of his mouth when
they heard through the fog seemingly right
overhead, the sound of some hing like the cry
of a wild :
“Owen! Owen! Owen!” it went.
Mike jumped up and shook like a leaf, as he
.1 began to recite a pater-noster, as fast as he
I; I could mutter it: '
' “ Pater mater qm’ es in coats, sath—
“Owen! Owen! Owen!” came the sounds
a sin, with such startling distinctness that
ike drop on his knees, corvering in the bot-
. tom of t e boat, to mutter the rest of the
’ prayer inwardly to himself.
a .i As for Norwood. he was more puzzled than he
3‘ /' cared to admit, and felt the sweat stand out all
 . over his body.
‘ i There was something so awful in the intense
. darkness and loneliness, with these sounds in the
g." , ' air, above them, that he could not tell what to
‘r _ ’ make of it.

I ‘ \ Then came a strange rustling sound in the air
like the flutter of wings, and they saw some-
thing white ass right over their head: so near

’ that they elt the wind, and Mike cowered
c]??? and hem“?!- d' d had th th
“passe on an reappears ,as ea er
on the water, and Mike whispered: -
“ What was it Professor? That wasn’t ice.”
And Ned could give him no answer but:
"Keep still, I tell you. We’ll find out what
. r i It is. Listen closely.”
' ‘ ‘ They listened, and resently became sensible
of a confused noise, li e the chattel-mg of birds
‘; I in immense numbers, as they settle to sleep for
: ' ' .. the night in flocks.

‘ It seemed to come, as did evorything else,
from up in the air, and ceased, like the rest, by
becoming inaudible in the distance. '

When it was over Mike was still praying
. . harder than ever, but stopped to whisper:
1 r “ Oh, Professor, will we ever see the morning,
' ' ' ‘ d’ye think? Will we?”

_‘ “Why not?" asked Ned, hanteringly. “ This

 ~‘ is nothing. Mike. It’s dark, and our imagina-
* v tions are in a state of excitement; that’s all. I
can't explain it yet, but it has some natural ex-
planation. How long have you been a trawler?”

“ Twenty years on the Banks, and niver heard

such a thing in me life. It's the divil, Professor.

It’s Davy Jones comiu’ on the Banks, and we’ll

have a terrible time. Holy Mother, what’s

that!" .
‘  ‘A door? boomingroar far away in the distance,
'1 follow by a report like a cannon, startled them
'afiiiand immediately after came the tinkle of
i,

» , rung violently, and a faint cry thro
' :‘m ckness of the night. ' ugh

! ._ ~ . ' , . ewe the people of the Flash,” said Norwood,

 

to reassure his companion. “ Some ship is drift-
ing down on them, perhaps.”

A dash li hted u the fog, followed by the un—
mistakablefioom o a gun, and Ned cried:

“ There, I told you so. How foolish to be
scared at nothing.”

Mike made no answer, but listened intently.

The hollow boom of the gun continued to echo
hack and forth through the fog, seeming to come
from a dozen different directions, and then all
was silent again for awhile.

Presently they heard the tinkle of the Flash’s
bell and the sound of voices far away in loud,
excited tones, till Mike whispered:

“ ’Tis the skip )er’s voice. Listen.”

They distinct y heard the hoarse, powerful
tones of Darke’s voice shouting:

“ Heave in strads, and trip the anchor.”

A moment later, came the sound of another
bell in the fog, accompanied by a dull hollow
booming like that of surf on a rocky shore, and
Mike w is ered:

“ Holy other! what’s that?”

They could give no answer, but the sound he-
came plainer and plainer, while the bells of the
two vessels kept tinkling and tolling away, till
the air round them seemed full of the deceptive
accents, which they were unable to locate.

A very few moments of this sufficed to make
even Ned Norwood, cool as he usual] was, un-
certain of everthing in the thick dar ness, and
he, like Mike, fell into a dazed state when he
could do nothing but sit and stare ‘round him,
wondering what was coming next.

Slowly and by de rees the tinkle of the bells
became fainter an fainter, while the hollow
boom of the surf receded from them, till at last
all was silent again.

Mike was the first to break the silence.

“ What’ll we do now, Professor?"

Ned wiped his forehead.

“ What can we do but wait till morning. Lie
down and sleep again. We’re fast to the trawl
line; that’s one thing certain.”

They lay down again in the bow and stern of
the dory; but sleep was out of the question.
t[Tilieir imaginations were too much excited for

at.

Ned lay awake staring at the fog, and the air
seemed full of misty sha that he knew to be
fictions of the brain, bumhich frequently be
came so real to his senses, that he could hardly
help crying out.

At last, from ve’ wear-iness, he fell asleep
again, and dreame that he was back on the
decks of the Flash, and saw Darke on the heel
of the bowsprit peering out over the see. into
the fog.

He heard him say to'some one:

“ They’ll never.come back. It‘s no
in for them.” , ~

t seemed to him in his dream as if he heard
another voice, that of Murdock McCloud, an—
swer:

“ Eh, sirs, but the proverb’s come true. There
were thirteen aboard and one of them will
ne’er return home.”

Then the vision faded own to be replaced
by another, and he thought t 9 Flash was on
a lees-bore in a heavy snow-storm with the roar
of breakers close aboard, while Darke kept roar-

in :

E Hard a-lee! Hard a-lee! You Norwood
tend jib there or you’ll never et home to Alice. ”

The vessel seemed to be rifting cloeer and
closer to the rocks and the roar of the surf be-
came so loud that he finally woke up in a fright,
to hear the same roar in plain reality close to
the boat and to find the gray dawn stealing
over the fog while high up in the air a bright
ros glow 0 light was shining down on them
an a great white wall of ice was sweeping
down on the dory. .

Then he understood it all in a moment.

The roaring he had heard was the breaking
of the sea on icebergs, and one of these mon-
sters of the deep was close aboard the dor
and would overhelm them in another instant f
they did not do something de rate.

Mike Clancy la on his bac snoring and the
young man has il strove to unfasten the

ainter of the boat rom the buoy line to which
t had been tied in the ni ht yelling to Clancy:

“ Wake up! Wake u ce close aboard.”

In another moment he precipice Seemed to
be hanging right over the dory, and he man-
aged to slip the painter, when he and Mike got
to the cars and rowed desperately away.

Now that they could see, both recognized the
imminent peril in which they were, for icebergs
on the Grand Banks are constantly shifting and
turning under the influence of the warmer wa-
ters of the Gulf Stream, melting away the part
under water faster than that above and 08.11ng
constant changes of equilibrium.

They for ot all about everything else as they
pulled me i away into the fog, an before

hey had go ten mort than a hundred fathoms
awa from the iceberg their fears were verified.
ith a hollow roar like thunder the rosy
flush in the air vanished. They knew well
enough whence it had come. The rays of the
risin sun had caught the top of the berg above
the o , and now it was turning and urmng
tows. them, . ‘ , . r
, Down came the white wall into the sea, and a
. l . , ‘ \

I

use look-

\

 

huge wave came bearing down on the dory, so
that they were within an inch of being swamped
and capsized at the same moment.

For quite a little time the waves came swaep
ing out of the berg foot, and by the time they
subsided the dory was half full of water, and
both men had to bail her out as fast asthey i
could, with one hand on an oar, pulling the
boat out of further peril.

When they were at last out of peril it was!

.*.4

broad dayli ht, and they could see through the
white meat 9 of the fog; the beautiful misty
rainbows that told them they were in the midst
of a perfect fleet of bergs that had floated down
on them in the night.

As soon as they made this discovery Ned said
to Clancy:

“I understand it all now. We’re beset by
ice. The sounds we heard last night were only
the barking of seals and the noise of the sea-
birds. But we’re in eat danger. Mike.”

Mike looked round im as they pulled on.

“And what“ we do, Professor?” he asked,
with the simple trust of an ignorant man in the
other’s sup osed knowledge.

Ned shook his head.

“God knows, Mike. We can only pull on
and try to get out of the ice.”

CHAPTER VI.
'rnn FLASH IN THE FOG.

Mnanrms: we must return to the Flash. and
find what her captain had been doing all the
time the dories had been out. . A

It seemed as if Samson Darke was more than
commonly nervous and undecided that eVening,
for half the dories had not departed on their
mission before he suddenly changed his mind
countermanded the orders, and sent to recall all
that were out which had not already set their j
trawls. ’

He was in timeto recall two boats, in which
were Jim Clancy, Baptiste Landr and the two
brothers McCloud. but darkness c osed in on the
Flash, and Ned Norwood’s dory had not yet-
come in, when Jim Clancy came to Darke and
said respectfully:

“Av e’ll let me toll the bell, skigpier, me
brother’ hear it and get back. It’s a d time .
for a dory to be out alone.”

Darke glanced around at the fast—gathering
darkness and replied, with a shrug:

“ All right; sound away. There’s no need to
be afraid. They’ll be back v soon.”

Jim began to sound the be] , and it was al—
most instantly re lied to from the fog by a dis—
tant deep-toned ll, which they recognized as
belonging to a large vessel. '

Samson Darke smiled as he heard the reply, ;
and rubbed his hands furtively. I

“Listen!” I
l
t
l

 

 

Mao’s» .

“ Silence fore and aft,” he said.

In a. little while they heard the unmistak-
abled noise of the coming steamer, and Darke
cme :

“ Heave in your strads, hoysl Haul in on the
cable! We’ve got to keep our eyes wide open
to-night.” I

The men ran to the cable, and hauled it in to
unbind the rotecting “strads,” then began to
pull in the sc ooner hand over hand toward her
anchor. ,

Meantime the noise of the steamer came ,
closer and closer, the bell of the Flash kept up a ’
constant clang, and all the men not haulin on
the cable ran aft to get lanterns and clim up
the main ri ging, to show them as conspicuous-
ly as possib e in the thick fog and darkness.

Nearer and nearer came the low thunder of
the big steamer and at last the saw her tri-
angle of lights, white green an red, coming
straight down on the anchored Flash.

Then all the fishermen united in a grand
shout; the bell clanged louder than ever, and
they heard the sharp “ tmg I” of the steamer’s
engine bell, signaling to reverse the en ine.
In another moment the red light vanish , the

een one shone down on them and the huge

ulk of a great ocean steamer swept by them,
towering over the little Flash like a mountain,
while a voice roared down:

“.Schooner ahoy! Close shave for youl
What schooner’s that?” . .

“The Flash, of Gloucester!” roared Samson.
" What ship’s that?”

“ The City of Timbuctoo!” came back the an-
swer. “Hello!”

“ Well?” replied Samson. “What i it?”

“ There’s ice all round here, and it will be on
you before morning,” cried the officer of the
Timbuctoo. “You’d better haul short and be
read to trip. You can’t lie here long.”

“ ll right,” shouted Samson. “Much
obliged l”

Then they heard the engine bell ring to go
ahead and the great steamer vanished in the
fog and darkness, (going to the southeast. Sam- ‘
son Darke rubbe his hands and smiled ina
manner that indicated extreme delight, as he
said to his men:

“ Haul u as short as
ready to tr p.”

Jim Clancy resumed’bis tolling at the bell,
when Darke said snappishly: ,. \

“Stop that infernal name, I can’t here my-
self talk.” ‘ . _ " 1

Jim stopped pulling, but ventured to say:“__' i - . i

l.’

 

 

 

you can, boys, and be

 

    

,..-~‘:.::}._ A

, “a,.,..~...mm.w..v.w....._.-..

 

 

 

 

 

' .MI...,..... .3 .11.. ....
x , , 1-.

..,...._..-.. ' ‘ ‘ -  . '~,.. . .
—v-,~.~~—'-,.,-., .- pmx, m uév- mar. J‘Errrapk wY )evtwd‘, .3 up; .,>_.' 'v ,.. .
. , . ,. .

The Fog Devil.

7

 

“The dory won’t know where to go, sir, if we
don’t sound the bell.”

Darke stamped his foot.

“ 1 command this schooner.
or I’ll know the reason.”

Jim obeyed and walked forward, but he
murmured as he went and very soon the mur-
murs reached the others as they hauled in at the
cable.

“ We on ht to keep on ringing,” said one.

“ It’s a s ame to leave good men to drown,”
said a second. “ They’ll never find us in the
fog if we don’t. ”

But Darke kept on deck and peered over the
side into the fog as if he expected to see some
signs of the boat, and kept saying:

‘They’ll soon be here; they must be. All the
others have come in safe."

80 matters stood for half an hour, and then
gm Clancy came aft with five more of the crew

. say:

“Please, captain, can’t we rin again and
call out to the dory? Maybe me rother will
hear us.”

“ Toll away,” was the indifferent reply, and
then the captain went forward to the w to
look ahead over the cable, for the expected

Do as 1 tell you,

we.

The bell clanged again, and then of a sudden
Darke started violently-as something white
sailed past the schooner in the fgloom, and he
heard the .low moaning sound 0 an animal in
distress. _

The sweat stood on his forehead; but 'a mo-
ment later he uttered a forced laugh mutter‘

in :

EWhat a fool I am! It’s only a big cake of
ice, with a sick seal on it.”

Darke had been on whaling voyages over all
parts of the world, and his sition on the deck
of the schooner fiaVe him a etter view of what
passed than can d be had from a dory at the
water’s ed 6. I .

He watc ed the cake of ice sailing by, but it
was too far of! to see “much of it, and soon after
he heard the low rumble of the surf which told
his racticed ear that the sea was breaking 'In
an «bug at no great distance.

“ Come away from that hell,” he shouted, and
then, almost as he spoke, came the loud report
which Norwood heard in the fog, and the cap-
tain roared: .

“ All hands to the cable.
ice is coming.”

The clang of the bell ceased, and the men
rushed to the Windlass.

Hurriedly the captain told them:

“ An iceberg has broken in half. We’ve got
to et out of this, and lucky if we can do it."

,. hey hauled short on the cable, and Just then
the flash of a gun. followed by the loud tolling
of a bell, announced that a vessel was near
them. probably in distress. .

“ Heave in strads and trip the anchor,” cried
Darke, and very soon they felt the cable coming
in with a lightness that told them the anchor
had left the bottom.

Dense as was the fog there was a faint breeze
stirring, and the Flash ran up her ‘ib, foresail
and ‘ mainsail, and moved slowly 0 before the

Wind.

Darke went to the bows to look out over the
water and scanned it eagerly, while the crew of
the Flash distributed themselves round the bul-
warks, staring into the fog. _

Th had become so apprehensive of the ice
that ey had forgotten a1 aboutthe dory which

- had gone on, and Darke had put Jim Clancy at
the wheel.

Slowly the schooner glided along the roaring
of the breakers on the iceberg slow y receding,
and at last the ca tain mattered to himself:

“ Safe now, an no one can blame me.”

Then he went back to the quarter-deck and
told them to ring the bell again.

“The dorv must be round here somewhere,”
he said. " The tide has carried it down, and I
wouldn’t lose those two men for a thousand dol-
lars.”

Haul in, men, the

listened, till Jim Clancy suggested:

“ Av we lay to till daylight, sir, we’ll see ’ern
av they’re not gone to the bottom.”

“ A good idea,” said Darke, readily. “ Ha 1
in the sheets, boys, and bring her to the win .
We’ll find them in dayli ht.”

The Flash was broug t to the wind and re-
mained nearly stationary in the fog, when the
captain sent below all but Jim Clancy and Mur-
dock McCloud, With orders to keep a sharp look-
out while he went to his 03b").

“I think We’re clear of danger from the ice,”
he said. “If on hear the surf nearer let her
off, and go on till it stops. Then bring her to
once more." . . .

He went below, and lay do?“ In 1‘15 bunk.
while silence-settled over the little vessel. He
was the best seamen aboard: and he knew that
the tide was runnin at the rate of two or three
miles an hour, and t t the ice was coming With

it. . .
He knew well the direction taken by the dory,
. for he had taken its bearings at the binnacle, as
be watched it depart. ‘ .
, 'He alone of a lthe crew had kept his head
 as the. steamer passed them, and at the

.t,‘- ,  , ’

They tolled the bell again at intervals, and

 

sound of the cracking iceberg, and he knew that
he had sailed away on a course diverging from
that taken by the dory, which must e several

. miles 011’ by this time.

He rubbed his hands furtively, and said to
himself inaudibly:

“ No one can lame me if the ice catches the
oung fool. I have to save the Flash. Ten
ives are worth more than two. If he never
comes back, I'll marry Alice Mason. She’ll get
over his loss. Married to him? So much the
better. Widows are easily consoled. Samson
Darke you’ve glayed well, and luck favors
you. The fog an the ice have done what naught
else could haVe done so easily. Ned Norwood
will never see Gloucester again.”

He tried to sleep; but his rest was fitful and
disturbed by dreams, in which he saw Ned Nor-
wood pointing at him, and sayin :

“ You are my murderer, andfi never sought
to harm you. God will (punish you for it.”

He. woke up in a col sweat to see the light
burning in the cabin as usual, and said to him-
self, as he turned over:

“Bah! ’tis but a dream.
me.”

With the earliest dawn he was on deck, to
find the some white fog ever ever thing, the
schooner drifting slowly to the sout west, with
motionless sails, in a dead calm.

No one can blame

 

CHAPTER VII.
ON THE FLOE.

WHEN Ned and his companion saw through
the fog that they were fairly surrounded with
icebergs, their consternation brought them to
astate of calm.

Even Mike Clancy said resignedly:

“There’s no gettin’ out of it, Professor. Av
we row, or av we lay still, we’re bound to be
drowgided. Say your prayers, and let’s die like
men.

Ned Norwood looked into the fog all round
and noticed a single circumstance that lent him
encouragement. .

” See, he said to Clancy, “ the fog thins fast.
We’ll see them clearly soon, and be able to
row out, maybe.” .

In fact, the vicinity of the ice, while creating
a mist tended to condense the vapor that ha
over t 6 sea, and make it assume the form‘o
rain, while the splendid hues of the bergs, as
the sun shone in on them above the fog, made
a spectacle of great beauty, had not the danger
been too imminent to allow the lonely voyagers
to enjoy it. ,

As they became able to see thin 5, they found
that the nearest bergs were less is an two hun-
dred fathoms away, while in one spot there
was an opening about a quarter of a mile Wide
beyond which stretched a white line of field
ice, which, could they reach; they might escape
the barge.

But to at there they would have to run the
gantleto afleet of the movin ice-mountains,
which were toppling over an settling every
moment, raising huge waves. .

Norwood pointed out the opening to Mike.

“If we reach that,” he said, “we may save
our lives. Are you ready to try 2”

Mike nodded gloomily. '

“ As well that as anything else," he said.
“ I’ll stick by ye, but it’s no use.”

“ Get to your oars then, and pull,” said Ned
cheerily. ‘We’ll beat death yet, Mike.”

They pulled d.eadily on till they came to the
place where a heavy sea was constantly run-
ning, on account of the toppling ber s. Here
the waves gave them a 1: deal 0 trouble,
tossin the little dory a out like a cork and
compe ling them to exercise the most watchful
care to keep from being swamped.

One berg. fell over toward them and the re-
sultant wave sent them over near the foot of
another in the very act of taming; but luckily
for them the second fell away from them, and
they escaped being completely buried in the

sea.

At last they saw the field-ice stretching before
them, and the bergs were at a safer distance,
when Ned found time to sear '

“ Never despair, Mike. e’ll be saved yet.
See, it’s clear over the ice, and the wind’s chang-
ing. We shall be saved yet.”

Mike only roaned. . .

“ Saved! es, to starve to death.”

But he pulled steadil on for all that, and in
half an hour’s hard wor they reached the edge
of an enormous ice-field, in the midst of which
several bergs were entangled, at-long intervals
from each other. _

The ice seemed to be seven or eight feet thick.
and the wearied men scrambled on the top and
drew up the dory.

Far as they could see, the water was covered
with the same white field, and, though the.fo
hung over the ice, it was not so thick, but wha
tigey could see numerous dark
a out, to which Ned at once c
panion’s attention.

“ Look, Mike,” he said, “ there’s no fear of
our starvin here. The iceis covered with seals
and sea-bir _s." . I ,'

I Mike persisted in taking a glOomy view of the
Situation. _ ' ,

led his com-

| g: ,  .3 Jra.‘  rm»! »'

fl ures moving

1 i

    

‘—x

“ Sails and say—birds," he repeated scornfully,
“ and how’ll we kill ’em, Professor!”

“You‘ve a knife, and I’ve another,” said Ned,
in the same cheery way. “I’ve read that seals
are ver stupid creatures and we may be able
to knoc them on the hen with an oar."

Mike shook his head mournfully.

“ And av we ate the mate raw, what’ll we
have to drink! There’s nothin’ but salt water
all round us.”

Ned took the bailing scoop of the dory, walked
a few steps and filled it at one of the ools dot-
ting the ice. He tasted the water an found it
brackish.

He was much disappointed, for he had had an
idea that salt-water ice melted into fresh water,
and Mike said loomily:

“ It’s no use, rofessor. All the college l’arn-
in’ won’t brin us out of this. Salt water won’t
make fresh, al the world over.”

Norwood ointed to the barge floating at the
edge of the ce-flelds.

“ Those at leastare fresh-water ice, Mike.
We’ll not suffer from thirst yet.”

“ And how’ll we get the water from them?”
asked” Mike, “ and. they turnin’ over all the
time.

Norwood had to own he was puzzled, but
presently cheered up.

“ Yonder are several frozen into this field,
Mike. They won’t turn over. Let‘s go and
get a drink from the nearest. Drag the boat
along.”

The nearest berg was nearly a quarter of a ’

mile off, and they had no difficult in usbing
the light dory over the smooth [is d to t e foot
of the ice mountain, which was a. block not
over three hundred feet square and about thirty
above the level of the ice.

It seemed to have been firmly frozen into the
main field at some distant period, and when
they chipped 011' some pieces and laced them
:11: their mouths, Mike observed th satisfac-

on: .

“ Fresh water, sure enough, Professor. How
the divil did ye know that? ’

Ned smiled.

"B reading;
it, Mi e. A berg is the end of a glacier, and
comes from the land.”

He surveyed the berg carefully, and walked
round it for some time.

At last he said:
“ Mike, I’ve at an idea.”
” And what s it, Professor!” ~ ‘
.“ We’d better stay here. It’s the safest place
we can find.”

Mike looked stupid.

“ Safest?”

“Yes, safest. We might have hunted a year
and not found as good a one." '

Mike looked ruefully round over the desolate
stretch of ice and fog.

“ Ye've a quare notion of what’sanice place,”
was all he could find heart to say.

Norwood laughed at his face. .

“ I mean comparatively, Mike. Positively,
I’d like to be back in the Flash, but we can’t
find her till the f lifts.” ’

“ True for ye, rofessor.”

" And it me not lift for days.”

Mike nodd gloomily.
“It’s a tin days’ fo , I’ll o bail and sorra
lift will there be to it t the ce mel ."

“Then, during that time, we’re lucky to have
food and drink secured to us. The very dumb
beasts show us how.to live. The all come to
the floating ice. We can catch fls —”

“Catch fish?” echoed Mike; “ and with what?
D’ e mind we left the trawl behind us under the
ice erg, and divil a hook have we got left. ” '

Ned felt in his side pockets.

“I had a fish-line here,” he said. “ I’m sure I
did. It wasn’t much, but it will catch some-
thing. Ay here it is; not much; but is him;
dred feet’s better than nothing."

“Ye’ll not catch so much as a porgy,” said
Mike, scornfully. “ D’ye mind we're out in
sivint five fathoms water, Professor?” ‘

“ ell, we can try, anyhow. If
clinics to us, yonder’s meat on the ice-floe.”

And he pointed to the seals that lay about on the
ice, with a confidence and tameness that showed
they were not often hunted.

“Furthermore,” he ursued, “there’s another
point you don’t see. is berg is frozen fast in
this fine, and it is such a shape that it won’t

turn over when all the ice melts away from ,

round it. It’s Seven or eight times as long as it
is high, and it Will settle equally. As long as it
doesn’t all melt away we’re sure of a home. I
vote to dre.or the dory up on the top, and try to
make ourseTVes as comfortable as we can.”

Mike was about to answer when they heard'a'

hoarse growl near them, and looking round the
edge of the log saw an immense polar bear,
n;a_rching stea thin out from behind a block
0 ice. .
Mike dropped on his knees, and Norwood
with a not unpardonable tremor, crouc
dewn behind the dory. ,
~ He had noticed that the hear was intent on
the seals, and not on them. ,
The animal stopped to snufl the wind and eye

 

the unconscious seals, and then set out at a
[rapid lumbering gallop over the ice, while ‘the

. l

2» v.  ~

but I thought every one knew .

the worst ‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

i.

 

 

v

I

alarmed seals, that had been perfectly quiet
when men passed them. Seemed to know their
born enemy and went fioppintg and scrambling
OR to the edge of the flea, as est as they could.

Not fast enough for the bear however.

The huge beast OVertook several on their way
to the water, dealt each a side stroke with his
enormous paw as he passed, and rushed on, as
if determined to take all he could get.

The-belated fishermen watched him, and in
less than in five minutes not a. live seal was left
on the flee. while the huge hear was lying down
over one of the bodies, crushing the ones and
drinking the blood with an avidity that showed
he was ravenously hungry.

Mike whis ered trembling:

“‘What’s 1; at, Professor?

“A polar bear. He must have floated all the
way from Greenland, and when the ice melts
that’s the last of him. ’

“ And won’t he ate us?"

“I don’t know. I fancy; not while the seals
are around us, but we must be careful not to
an or him. Hello what’s that?”

’ nother owl,but this time of a different
character. e matter of distant thunder.

They saw the bear lift his head and stop his
meal, while. beyond him, a black cloud was
slowly hering over the ice-field. and driving
forwa at great speed, the mist before it
thicking every moment.

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A rnozan noun.

,A ruunnnn—sroaii was sweeping rapidly over
the ice, and Norwood said:

“ We’ll have fresh water enough now.”

Mike looked apprehensiver at the cloud.

‘f And the ice will break up, maybe," said he.

Norwood pointed to the berg.

“ That doesn’t break :1 so soon, Mike. I told
you we couldn’t be in a tter place. Let’s get
up on it, while we can."

They skirted round the berg and found that
fine end had a radual slope to the level of the
cold-ice, up w ch they dragged the dory, mid
found themselves on the to of the berg Just as
the thunderstorm came own on them, in a
deluge ’of rain and a tearing wind. ’

They overturned the dory and got under the
lee of it, when the storm passed over them with
several smart of thunder and a little light-
ning, but not ng‘like a summer storm, and not
lasting over ten minutes.

When it had passed over Norwood looked
back over the ice, and saw with jo that the
mist had lifted to the north, that a read line
of blue sk was steadily advancing, and that a
cold nor wind had set in.

An hour later, the prospect was clear all
round the horizon, the sun shining in the blue
sky and the could see the open ocean-studded
With fleetso bergs at the edge of the ice-field;
but without a single sail in sight. _ -

The ,.wind blew quite col , and it began to
freeze almost immediately.

They looked over the ice and saw the hear at
his meal, quite undisturbed, and Mike, said in a
rueful Lone: ,

“ Bedad, the b’aste has the best of us, Profes.

sor."

“ Why, Mike?”

“ He seems at home here, and sorra much
home can I see. " _

Ned pointed to the dead seals living on the ice
at intervals, where the hear be thrown them
as he passed on:

“There’s enough food there to keep us for
weeks, and here’s, "‘enty of water. We’re drift-
ing south into the track of ships all the while,
and We’re sure to be picked up in the end.”

Mike had been looking out also; but in a dif—
ferent spirit, for the poor fellow was completely
disheartened. I

Suddenly his face li hted u , as he saw on the
blue horizon, at the e go of t 9 ice to the west,
in white s k. . '

“A sai , Professor, a sail!" he cried. “ It’s the
Flash come to look after us.”

' Norwood looked, and saw that Mike was

ri ht.

gl‘he white s eck was unquestionably a sail,
but so far of! t t the could only guess it to be
a schooner, and they ad no glass to determine
an thing further.

boever and whatever she was she was mov-
ing slowly to the north along the edge of the
ice at least twenty miles away. When they
went down on the ice—flee, she disappeared en-
tirely. They could only see her from the top of
t e berg. . ,

Mike seemed to be wonderfully comforted by
the sightof the sail.

“ It's the Flash,” he insisted, “come to look
for us. Me brother Jim and the boys won’t go
back on as Professor.”

Norwood, on his part, did not feel so confi-
dent. He could not forget the language of the

‘ ‘ captain the ,day before, and felt apprehensive

that Darke would leave them if he saw a fair
chance to do so without incurring the name of
“Pig?” mmmiéa " gested Mik “ nd
v s 0 over ea: c, a

makenforgthe schooner.’ Sure, she can't see us

/
l

i» 

 

The Fog Devil.

Ned pointed down to the bear, still at his
meal between them and the sail.

“ Do you think he’d let us pass? No, Mike,
we shall have to be patient a while. If that is
the Flash looking for us, she’ll go round the ice-
fields, and not give up the search till she finds
us.

Mike stood up, and continued his search in
other directions over the ice.

Away to the north, several miles off, they
saw a number of black spots that they took to
be seals, while the whole surface of the
fine was dotted with sea-birds, that came
circling in from the open water on all sides.

Seals and birds alike displayed one feature of
similarity that they kept near the edge of the
ice, as if their instinct taught them that safety

,lay in the depths of the ocean.

Norwood, in his turn, scanned the flee to set-
tle in his mind its extent, and after a long ex-
amination, came to the conclusion that it must
be of very large extent.

To the north and west he could see no limit,
and to the southwest it stretched away constant-
ly advancing.

The only .open place appeared to be due east
and northeast, where the sea was clear, but no
si n of a sail could be seen there.

ike suddenly attracted his attention by pull-
ing his sleeve.

“ Professor,” he said, in a low tone, “the big
baste’s goin’ off!”

“ So much the better,” said Ned, as he looked
down on the surface of the doc.

The white bear had entirely finished his seal
and was slowly shuffling away toward the open
water where sailed the fleet of bergs, leaving
the other slaughtered seals lying round on the
ice.

They saw him go to the wafer, dash in and
swim away to one of the bergs, up which he
climbed as if to enjoy the rocking.

“ He finds the weather too warm here,” said
Ned. “It feels cold to us, but he’s used to zero
and twenty below it. Now, Mike, let’s go down
and bring in one of those seals. I see driftwood
on the ice and I think we can make a fire.”

“ A fire l” echoed Mike.
holes in the ice, alanah'l”

“ And won’t we burn

3‘ Not if we’re careful. Have you any
matches in our pocket?”
“Bedad, have, Professor, and a pipe, too:

but me insides is that hollow I’d not the heart
to light it."

“ Don’t think of li hting a pipe, man. Every
match is precious, w en you’ve no means of get-
tll’llg more. First let’s go for the seals.”

hey descended the berg and made for the
nearest seal, but Ned kept a sharp lookout for
the berg, on which the bear was still enjoying
himself.

He saw the animal get up as soon he they ap-
proached the dead seal, and begin to descend
the berg toward them.

“ Leave the seal alone,” Ned whispered to
Mike, “and walk away slowly with me, or we
shall be in a scrape.”

Mike looked round, saw the bear, and it
needed no further warning to make him obey
the injunction.

When they had gone about a. hundred yards
they looked round. ' .

The bear had lain down on the berg again,
and was watching them, as much as to say:

“I don’t want to lurt you; but you leave my
dinner alone. I shall be hungry very soon.”

Mike shook his fist stealthi y.

“The ill mannered haste,” he grumbled.
“He’s a re ular dog in the manger. He can’t
ate it himse f, and he won’t give us a chance to
take a bite.”

“I suppose he thinks we’d better catch our
own meat,” said Ned Norwood. "I don’t know
but he’s right, Mike. Man’s a helpless being
compared to a beast, left to himself. Let’s
come on and try our luck.”

They took their way over the ice toward a
huge berg, about three miles ofli, frozen into the
substance of the floe.

All round it the ice had been tilted up on
edge and frozen fast into tables and cakes,
showing where the mountain had gone crashing
through the floe at some time when the latter
had jammed up against the land.

Now, when there was no resistance, the berg
seemed to be as solid as all'the rest, and it was
so enormous in size that Mike ejaculated:

“Holy smoke, Professor, it’s big enou h to
hould half of Gloucester 0n the top. An just
look at the birds, sir." '

In fact, the whole to of the ice-mountain
was black with gulls an auks, and there were
signs about it that made Ned say? i

“ This is an old berg, Mike. mean that it
has passed through more than one winter and
summer. Look how dirty the top is.
wouldn’t WL nder if we find it full of nests and

as. '

They walked round it to inspect it closely,
and found it to be a most wonderful creation-

Evidently at some former time it had been

subject to action of the sea, and had then been.

driven bodily into‘a fine. ,
One side towered lathe air at least three hun-
dred feet, and was honeyco bed with caverns,

into which the fine-ice, _ been driven and

\ that if the ice began to break u

 

frozen fast, after piling itself up in tables and
hummocks.

These caverns had evidently existed for a
lon time, for they were full of sea-birds, and,
as ed had sus cted, most of them had built
nests in the she tered places.

The cold nipping north wind had dried up the
berg by freezing the drippings into icicles, and
everythinglooked so comfortable that Mike ob-
served:

“The birds know when they’re well off, Pro-
fessor. Bedad, I wish we were birds.”

“ We‘ve more sense than the birds,” said Ned
cheerfully. “If they know enough to come
here and live we can do the same and live on
them besides. Let’s hunt for fresh eggs. If
you find a nest without a bird on it you may be
sure the eggs are good yet. Eggs are better
than starvmg.” .

“Ye may say that," returned Mike. “It’s
often meself has sucked eggs in the ould coun-
try. Here’s a nest." .

CHAPTER IX.
STRANGERS ON rim ICE. .

Nnn’s conjectures turned out tobe correct.
The honeycombed berg fairly swarmed with
birds, and in ten minutes they found so many
eggs that Mike began to grow delicate and re-
marked to his companion:

“ Raw eggs is said to be unwholesome. and I’m
thinkin’ we ought to cook ’em. Here’s the nests
all made of dry shticks. Why wouldn’t we make
a fire of ’em ?"

“ Because, to do so, we must f ' hten 03 all
the birds, Mike. Eat your fill and on’t disturb
them more than you can help. As long as they
stay here, we’re safe from starvation, but as
soon as they go where are we?”

“In the say," replied Mike dryly, “and I’m
thinkin’ we’re not much better 03 anyway,
Professor, for-divil a way do I see of gettin’ 03
this ice.” - v

Ned made no answer, for he was getting pro-
voked with Mike for looking at things in the
lugubrious way in which he did. Their appe-
tites satisfied, the belated men set out to explore
the vicinity of the berg, which they found
nearly a mile in circumference, the top quite
easy of ascent, and covered with nests made of
dry sticks and seaweed, showing it to be an old
berg, used for more than a single year.

It belonged tothat class of bergs always of
the largest size, which drew several hundred
feet of water and in quently ground in their
passage down l3afiin’s Bay toward the ocean.

If this happens in summer, they usually
fioat clear and go to destruction before reach-
ing the banks of Newfoundland; but if they
strike late in the season they are apt to remain
where they ground till next year and can read-
ily be distinguished by their dirty ap rance.

The adventurers were by no means rec from
uneasiness in fear of coming on another polar
bear, for they were quite unarmed save for their

 

‘sheath knives, but the fine/seemed to be. unten-

anted, as far as they could make out, by any-
thing dangerous.

The sun was about four hours high when Ned
proposed that they should set out over the ice
to the other side, to find out whether the Flash
was anywhere near, that they might signal to

er.

The frost still held but gave promise of abat~
ing under the rays of the sun, and they knew
their position
would become one of great peri under any cir-
cumstances. _

Ned only wondered that there was no sym
tom of cracks in the ice, and reasoned that t e
field must be very compact and thick to hold to-
gether so well.

They set off toward the northwest where they
saw a lofty berg about twomiles off, and found
it of the same character as the one they had
left old, fullpf caves, piled with ice and inhab-
ited by sea-birds.

He proposed to Mike that they should climb
to the top and obtain a view over the. floe.
Mike, nothing loth, followed, Ind in ten min-
utes’ hard scrambling they stood on the summit,
nearly three hundred feet above the level of the

sea.

Then they looked out over a cimuit of forty
or fifty miles, and saw the whole extent of the
ice cake on which they were, studded with

bergs.
Mike uttered s. cry of joy.

“There’s the schooner. I told ye she was
lookin’ for us. " .

Away off in the northwest, a good ten or fif-

teen miles from where they were, the schooner ,

wals coasting the edge of the doc, under easy
SM . V ' .

The ice on which they were was a long, ir-
regularly shapfigl mass, that resembled strongly
the outline of ng Island in miniature.

It measured about five miles across at the
broadest point, and seemed to be about twenty-
flve miles in extreme length. Bergs were im-
bedded in it like mountains on an island. and
dark tones here and there showed thatit was
large y composed of old ice that had followed
the outline of some shore.

Ned and his couégzuion surveyed it with  i _

care and then gs. red together}. pile, o

 

     

. 2.1.7....“- '

 

 

 

‘“ “my.

,shall leave our bones for the fishes.”

 

‘ what was to some of It.

 

- down the slope OI the berg. V9111“! '

‘H; I“ / 

The Fog Devil.

9

 

nests of seabirds, lighted the dry sticks of
which the were made, and soon had the satis~
faction ofy seeing a dark column of smoke rise
to the sky. _

“They can’t help seeing that on a day like
this,” said Ned, half to himself.

“And wh shouldn't the i” asked Mike. “Av I
ooorae they’ see it. Won dn’t they b? lookin‘
for us, as we’d be lookin’ for them, if we were ,

 

 

in the same box?" : J

Ned did not tell him what reason he had for 1
fearing Darke mi ht not notice them; besides '
which, he knew t at even the half-cmsy cep- i
tab: of the Flash could not abandon the men of
his crew 0 1y.

He watc ed the Flash and saw her sailing on
as quietly as before, toward the north her stern
turned to the smoke, and he said to Mike:

“ I fear we’re not seen. They’re looking out
ahead. not astern. We shall have to follow the
vessel if we hope to reach it. They’re going

further all the time.”

“ But they’re coasting round all the while,”
objected Mike. "Theyre bound to see us at
last. Let‘s go after them. alanah.”

They scrambled down the berg and began to
mm toward the schooner, when they heard a
loud crack in the ice. followed by a hollow
groan that went quivering through the whole

breadth of the floe.

“Back to the be i” cried Ned who knew
What was coming, an back they ran for dear
life. just in time. I

H'll‘dl had they got to it, when the groan in
the the me a roaring Series 01 “Pom. and ,
they saw that Long Island had parted in the |
middle, with a gap that widened at one end. in !
a way that showed the iloe was turning round
in some powerful current.

 

ru ture at the water’s edge of part of the big

on e. and Ned said to Mike: I
“ We’ve no time to lose. This may break ofl

next. We must get back to the dory, or we

The berg on which they stood was left by the  .

Mike had too much confidence in his friend‘s
knowledge to hesitate, and they set 08 at a trot
to reach the lace where they had left the dory
on the summ t of the small berg. On their way
they noticed that Is of water had collected
on the flee and realised for the first time that it
had sto ped freezin .

The pril sun ha Proved too much for the
north wind, which a ready had dropped nearly
to a calm, and by the time they rescued
the end of the her where they had left the
dory, they found, t emselves sweating under
their heavy pilot coats. ,

“ Bedad, ould dory,” said Mike, aflectionately
putting the inanimate boat,“ I’ll not bel’avin’ ye

agFin in a hurry.”

hen they loo ed out where the loose bergs had
been floating, and discovered that the had
gained on the doc oifering more surface or the
wind to act on. till they were nearly half a mile
away.

The one which contained the polar hear was
not to be seen, and the‘ fishermen took the 0p-
portunit to drag one of the dead seals to their
dory an cut up enough meat to render them
independent of food for a week.

Then the set ad for the ancient iceberg,
where bir s’ nests and drift-wood abounded,
dragging the boat with them.

Their recent peril made them wary of part-
ing from their only friend.

They made u their minds, too that the old.
berg uttered a =tht of! rei‘uge than the
little one, and Ned like:

“ Heaven knows how long we shall etc
but that berg will last three weeks at tge rate
it’s going now.”

“Three weeksl" echoed Mike, aghast. “We
won’t stay here that long, will we!"

“ i fear we shall," answered Ned, a little
gloomily. “I don’t see the Flash any more.”

“ But she’ll come for us,” said Mike, eagerly.
“ Oh, Professor, she must come for us."

Ned made no reply. Re collected a heap of
drift-wood that lay all round the foot of the
hers, and began to build a fire in such away
that it should not touch the ice.

This was easy enough, for logs were plenti-
ful, hut small. and the two fishermen were soon
roaisging seal-meat“? trout-gm rovisedhiurnace,
an aymsups I re or e nturew en the
would be unable to cook. y

When they had put away some an
of the meat under the stern-sheets of
Mike began 30 1°01 thing]. and went up the
beer} to find a clean place or fresh water, while
N Norwood,_in a. brown BtUdY. 3-5 over the
fire, absentl toasting his meat. and hroodin
over the fee of his abandonment by Dar-ks, an

here:

pounds
dory,

Suddenly he was roused from his abstraction
by a loud cry, and Mike Clancy came sliding

Holy fathers! there’s

“Professor, Professor!
t guns, the

a lot of follies comin’, and they’ve

murderin’ hsythensi Ochonel we be all kilt
now, for sure."

Ned started upendran round the corner of '
, the berg to look. A party of men were comin
over the ice to the said,
~ 511 had guns.

 

M.and,ulflkehad

CHAPTER X.
run: sranranns.

Nonwoon’s first sensation was wonder. How
could these men have come here!

Then he remembered the gun he had heard in
the fog the previous night, and it became clear
to him.

“ Don‘t be afraid, Mike,” he said. “Their
vessel has been nipped in the ice, and they are
"net as unfortunate as we are; more so indeed,
tor they have lest their ship.”

He and Mike scanned the new-comers closely,
as they advanced to the number of near
twenty.

There was something strange about them.

They Were no fishermen, and did not look
like American sailors.

Their faces were dark and foreign, most of
them had earrings in their ears, and all‘wore
mustaches and pomtsd beards.

Their dress seemed to be some sort of uni
form, with bri ht colors to relieva the dark
blue, and the lea or had a red cap with a gold
tassal.

All carried weapons of some sort, the most
having a cutlass and rifle at least.

The leader had no less than four revolvers in
his belt, and was a very handsome man. a
he came up he touched his cap to Ned and said
polite] :

“ Se glabla espalwl, amigo 1’"

Ned understood that he was asked if he could
talk Spanish, so he re lied:

“ No, si or, no. on’t understand it. We
are Amer cans.”

The Spaniard smiled:

" Aha, Americanosl Goot,
Inglis’. I apik goot, very goot Inglis’.
you came, ha!”
” Where do I come?” echoed Ned, puzzled.
“I don’t know whntyou mean.” V
“ Vere from?" replied the Spaniard in a man-
ner that showed his contempt of Nod for not
understanding him. “I splk ver’ good Inglis’.
Vere from?"

“ From Gloucester," answered Ned.

“ Glo—etn, Glco—sta—vere dat?" asked the

goot! You spik
Vere

‘ Spanish oflcer.

Ned pointed westward.

9‘ American coast,” he said.
You—where fromi”.

“ M‘atanzas " was the lite reply, and then
he seemed to be puzzled, or he turned to one of
his crew and uttered a rapid torrent of Spanish,
at which a small. weazaned old sailor came up
and said to Ned in better English:

“ De tenente he say, me tell you, ve vas all
broke up in de ice last night. De sheep ’e go—
go down, and we get out win two boat. De
captain ’e drown, and all do rest. ’Ow you
come ‘ere ’e say ?”

Ned gave asbort account of his adventures
the previous night, adding:

“ But what was the mime of your Vessel?”

The Spaniard seemed to hesitate about his
answer; for a great deal of gabhling ensued be-
tween him aud his friends:

At last he said: '

“ Senor Saluda say dat none of your beezness.
You ask no question.”

“Oh, certainly,” returned Ned eagerly.
don’t wish to pry into your affairs of course;
but we’re all brothers in misfortune, you
know.”

The Spaniard nodded.

“ All rights. Vere your schoonera?”

Ned sighed heavily.

“I don t know.”

The Spaniard seemed pleased at the answer.

“You no see her, hsi‘

“ We did see her. or thought’we did,” return-
ed Ned, pointing, to the northwest, “ but since
the ice he an to reak up, I see her no more. I
fear she's eft as.”

The Spanish lieutenant seemed to be better
pleased than before with the answer.

1 “”You coma—here,” he said, “ commigo,—dat
9—.

Here he stuck fast and began to jabber to
Domingo, the weazened old sailor, who came to
his help, saving:

“Senor luda ’e say, you come wiz us, and
you s’all be 'appy.”

“Ha py 1” echoed Ned. “What do you
mean y that! Come where? How did you
find us anyhow I”

Domingo grinned.

“ You asks no question. Ve vatch you all do
moruin Ve ’ave boat out dare.”

He no nted to a small berg at the edge of the
fioe—one they had not yet examined. ~

“ You comes wiz us, he said.

As he spoke, the Spaniards began to handle
their rifles in such an ominous way that Mike
ejaculated: . '

“ Holy fathers! are they in’ to shoot!"
“ Not if we go with them, fancy.” returned
Ned. “ There‘s some, m story I don’t fathom
£235,111“: but at least {hey’re not as bad as the

Then to Saluda he said:

" Go on i .
boat with all; We’ll follow you and bring our

Salads  ,
o no: ve ave boat-no-no boat.”
Dom ngo’touohed Ned’s am, saying:

“ Fishing-port. I

“I.

“ Va ’ave plentee room. It is bee boat.”

Then they marched across the flee the small
berg and discove , drawn u on the lee a
large ship’s launc , big enoug to hold fifty
men ata pinch with a small steam engine in
the stern, besides two masts and sails.

The lieutenant seemed to be ver uneasy for
some reason, and kept exploring t e edge of the

to make her appearance.

He called to his men and made signs for the
belated fishermen to assist, while they moved the
boat round to the other side of the iceberg, so
as not to be visible from the east.

Then they all sat down and watched the day
slowly decline till the evening came and just as
the sun hunk into the sea, Mike cri :

“ There’s the Flash, bedad. I knew she’d
come.”

They looked up along the edge of the flee,
and sure enough there was the gallant little
vessel with all her sails set, coming along the
edge of the ice in a way that showed she was
ex lorin for her lost ones.

ed to t a thrill of compunction as he said to
himself:

" I’ve wronged Darke. I thought he had given
us up on pu . ’

The Spaniards saw the schooner coming. and
began to jabber to each other as she came more
an more plain] in sight. At last Dcmingo
came to Norwood.

“ Data your sheep?” he said inquiringly.

“ Yes. The schooner Flash.”

“ She goods boat's?"

“None better. Very fast: good sea-boat.”

“ Aha! Gootl” _

Domingo went back to his cificer and they
jabbered faster than evsr, there seeming to be a
diffierence of opinion between them as to what
to 0.

Ned Norwood was walkin out to hail the
schooner when Domingo on out:

" Guidado !”

At the same time be cocked his rifie, and Ned
knew enough to understand that “cuidado !"
meant "look out.”

He sto ped, and Saluda motioned him to
come bac .

He obeyed, wondering much what it all meant
and Mike muttered: , .

“Eel fathers! Maybe it's pirates they are,
bad luc to them!”

 

he was verv much puuled as to what to make
of their behavior. . '

The Spaniards were evidently fearful of being
seen; but whyi.

There was no war between Spain and the
United States.

While he was engitmihg over what it could.
all mean, he was roussd from his fit of abstrac-
tion by noticing the white bod of the
bear, moving owr the ice tower them. about a
quarter of a mile awe . among the dead scale,

The animal had pro bly swum back to finish
his meal and gorge himself.

The Spaniards saw it too and began gun: to—
gether in a nervous, excited way, w n Ned
made a sign to Mike.

The Irish fisherman had been sitting in the
background, smoking his pipe with as much

tilesophy as be con d assume, and none 0! the

paniards were looking in his direction. .

Mike understood the signal, and he stole 0!!
round the corner of the Lerg, unseen and made
the best of his way toward the Flash, now not
more than two miles 0! and coming down is ing
and Winsg. ‘

The pa iards did not notice his departure

started and cried out:

"En donde cl peacadorf" [Where’s the fish- ,.
ermani]

in a moment the whole
cocks-d rifles, threatening N . ,
I "Vere 'e gel” vociferuted tide.

I “Round yonder to hail the schooner,” said,

' Ned, calmly. “What’s the hunter? Surely
you want to be taken of! don’t on?”

I The Spaniard ground his me viciously, and

ran round the corner of the berg. .

Mike’s figure was visible about two hundred

yards oi! running toward theFlash.
- “Come backs!” roared Salads, and then he
pitched his rifle to his shoulder took a careful
aim and was just pressing the trigger when Ned
Norwood seized the rifle. and wrenched it away
in time to prevent its dischar o.

Then, knowing that his ii 9 depended on his
activity and strength he whirled the clubbed
weapon round his head, dealt Saluda a blow
that leveled him. dashed the butt into Domin-
go’s face as be rushed up, and thouset on at a

list run, yelling to Mike:

“ Bun! runl We'll beat ’em ,v Mike.”

He heard the shouts of the Span s behind
him, and then saw the Flash come bowlin
gown the edge of the ice-fies to meet the tug:

vet.

y was up, with

 

CHAPTER XI.

 

. an autumn.
Tillman had set. but the twilight remained, ~
. as Ned'and Hike sped away over the ice.

/

...;. _ ' ‘ '-' ‘ ’ .

Norwood knew they could not be pirates; but ,

for some little 'time. till Domingo suddenly ~

fioe with his glass, especially toward that part '~
of the sea whence the Flash might be expected z

in
D

s

 

\

V

/ of‘him. but Saludaltold m, grufl

10 h

The. Fog Devil.

 

 

The Irishman was away ahead, for he had a
long start: but Ned soon ascertained that he
was not followed, for he looked back over his
shoulder, and saw that the Spaniards had
dlh‘fl peered. .

T ey had one to their boat behind the small
berg, and orwood could see the, bow of the
little craft, being shoved out to the water’s edge
a if the I were oing to ut to sea.

l Know ng We enoug that they could, not
catch, him, he slackened his ace and went on
more leisurely toward the lash, while Mike
kept on running as hard as he could go, evi-
dently frightened to death.

Thus it chanced, within a few minutes, that
the Flash had come up to the edge of the ice 9.
dory‘ha'd bee dropped from her side, and Mi 9
had Jumped ate it, when Ned was still several
hundred ards behind. And just at that mo-
ment he card the cracking of rifle-shots, and
saw the S nish boat in the water. coming up
the edge’o the ice toward the Flash, the men
firing rapidly, at the dory and schooner, while a
column of smoke told that the launch was get-
ting up steam to pursue the Flash, and the men
were pulling her along with cars besides.

Ned ran on, waving his list, when. to his sur-
prise an dismay, the dory. With Mike in it,
pulled o to the schooner, and he heard Darke’s
veice roaring:

“Hard a-starboardl Man. fore and main

sheets. Trimt min, boySl No time tolosel ..

V The irates are utl” A

“ top l” she, ed Ned wildly. “ Stop! Don’t
leave me here 'a l‘ alone!” . ,

But before he could get opposite the Flash,
the schooner had ,swept round her head, trim-
med in her sheets. and was bowling away,
hugging the wind closely, the dory trailing be-
hind her by the painter, the schooner careening
over under all sail, and going at ten or twelve
knots an hour. ’ ‘

He looked at the Spanish boat and saw that it
was still ‘moving n the line of the flea toward
him, so that he ran ised that he could not escape
recapture by her, unless he tried to get away
over the ice.” v ' ' ,

For a few moments he fancied that the Flash
might come bafkffor im, after all; but as she

rew more and more stunt while the S anish
nearer, he realized that he ha _ been
aban ou .‘ W ' ' '

He turned at "flies and ran off over the ice-
fioe, skirtihg r'o d to st to the place where the
dory hadbeen left; bu before he got there he
saw the white form of the bear crouching on the
ice over the dead seal, and the animal sprung up
and made a. savage rush toward him, so that he
new he could not get to the dory.

, Then, in a state of sullen desperation, he went
back toward the‘watei’s edge and stood waiting

for the S ' b boat to come up, the Flash being
by tlimis Kc half a mile away, working back up

e . .
The Spaniards seemed to have given up the
chase o the Flash, for their boat came gliding

ate the :3an the doc, and the old sailor,
‘ mingo,‘ 'to Ned: '

“ You come horde!” .

Ned had no alternative but to obey, and he
managed to climb on 'the launch, when
Saluda gave some orders in Spanish, and the

6d m ettin' [up as am at last. 7
Ned once she ‘, the took no“ further notice

ufiln of’the’little en' ne an'ounced thatthey
/ Russian - “i i.

y:
‘You sitta‘downa.‘ " ‘

Then swing went the steam launch straight
into the wi ’5 eye, n the edge of the doc, with
the tl’lain object 'of 'teroepting‘ the Flash, if
pose 9.

Ned Norwood sat quiet! down where he was
told and watched everyth ng, with the idea of

penetrating the m sterytbatsurrounded him.

' . Who were these paniarkls and what did they

’ the sailing-vessel, ungainitfmust .01! equal
terms. ' ‘ .‘

want of the schooner! I _
The launch was comforts , even luxurious-
ly fitted, and he saw invgilt tters on the front
,' of the little engine-house, l: word:
“ Libeer

Then it suddenly came to his mind, that he
had heard of a rebellion in Cuba, which had
been re suppressed, time and time again,
but wh chit was often rumored still existed in
spots here and there. ,

Was it ible that the Vessel which had
gcnsdown the ice was a Cuban cruiser? If
so, it woul account for all, for the fear and
secrecy in which averaging was hidden, and
for the attempt of the 6 ‘take the Flash.

The unfortunate Cubans wanted to seize the
schOOner and maketheir esca somewhere, in
a craft not so easily reoo as their own lit-
tle launch. _ ,- V , ' ' V

While he was cogita over what was to
come of all this, the steam annch, ~ ing'direct-
ly into the wind’s,.e e, had arr ved at the
weather gauge of the " , and turned to pur-
suetheschooner;i" ' ‘ '_ .

The Flash kept on’her'conrse, nearly inyisible
in the darkness, ‘on ‘accOunt of being close-
hauled, her sails turned edgewise to the. pur-
suing boat but it soon became plain evenfiiln the
darkness that the steam launch was gain g on

. a

v ,

‘ what to 'do.

 

Ned could soon hear voices on the schooner
shontin g orders and encouragements, and he disc
tinguished Darke‘s tones.

“Bear a hand to set the maintopmast stay-
sail. VVe’ll beat the cusses yet.”

He saw the staysail o fluttering up like a
great white bird, and t 9 Flash began to creep
away in the darkness, when Ned noticed that
the Spaniards began to jabber to each other,
and seemed much excited.

He soon found the cause when he looked in
front of the little engine furnace. The wood-
box was empty.

It was plain that the launch could no longer
keep up her steam, and could not catch the
Flash, fgoing as.they were.

The ailure in the heat of the fire soon showed
itself in the puffing of the steam as it decreased
in the boiler, and after an hour of this sort of
work the Flash had vanished in the darkness,
while the launch heisted two lug-sails and
stood away to the south, her men silent and
sullen, the wind blowing from northwest.

.Then Ned Norwood heard the voice of Saluda.
calling him.

“ You comea here.”

He went and found the lieuteth looking

very gloomy and downcast. and Domingo began
to tel him in his broken English, as well as he
could, what they had been talking about during
the chase.
He found that he was right in his congecture
as to the identity of the sunken vesse . She
was the Liberador, a Cuban cruiser that had
been built in the harbor of New York under
pretense of being a. peaceful vessel, and had
sli ped out under the nose of the Spaniih con-
su . to meet,ou_t at sea another peaceful craft
that contained the armament and crew of the
Liberador in her hold and cabin as freight and
passengers

It was her first cruise, and she had been hang-

ing round the Banks of Newfoundland looking
u

o for Spanish traders bound to the United
States, when she had been caught in the fog
and ice together unawares, and found hersel
nipped between two iceber s. It was her gun
the fishermen had heardt enight before, just
before she went down.

But for the fact that onl the forward part of
the-ship had been crushed y the bergs, and that
the ice had lifted the ship bodily, and held it
suspended for some time, the e
would not have got 03.

Domingo told him that thirt men, the lien-
tenant Saluda, and two boats, ad made their

escape over the ice in the dark, but he feared
that the other host must have come to harm in

the thick fog, as they had missed each other
in the night, and had seen nothing of the other
boat since that time.

“And now,” he concluded, “ Senor Saluda, ’a
say to you, ’9 ver’ sorry ’e ’ave to take you via
’eem, but it cannot be ’elp. All do world against
Cuba Libre. You 0 viz uskyou be reach. You
try to go ’vay, ve ave to eel you. Vat you

sayxle‘you come?”
Norwood began tounderstand his posifi

tion and the reason why they had kept him so
close a prisoner. He understood why the Span-
iards had fired at Mike Clancy. They were
afraid of discove . and that was all.

'It did not take im long to make up his mind
He had long been weary of the
dull uneventful life of a fisherman, and he saw,
in is present accidental meeting with the
Cubans, much adventure, and a possible rofit,
that was the more alluring, because so 8 range
and romantic.

“ I will go with you,” he said to Saluda, “ and
do my bes to help you; but on must not ex-
fiect me to fight, we in self-do ense. My nation

not at war wit Spain. ”

Saluda smiled rather ruefully. and replied:

“ You defends yousefila—Ver’ gootl I take
you. You be goat soldado.”

CHAPTER XII.
DABXE’B PROJECTS.

Tim fishing—schooner Flash went skimming
over the waters of the o n ocean, headin due
east, alterthe Spanish at gave up the c ass.
and Samson Duke chuckled to himself as he
muttered: r
“ ouldn’t have turned out better. No one
can blame me; but he‘ll never come "

He had, in obedience to the wishes of his
crew, hunf round the ice till the fog cleared
away, an circumnavi ated the h e island in
search of the missing cry; but be ad all the
time had knowledge they did not s. .

He, had been looking out of h cabin win-
dows, lass in hand, at the time Ned and Mike
light their beacon-fire. on top of the iceberg,
and had trembled for fearjt should be seen.

0 had watched the breaking of the big fioe »

‘wi in secret joy, because’it diverted the atten-
tion of his men to other objects, and made the

undertaking of- circumnavigating the iconisland.

more difficult, . . ,

He maintained“ an ostentatious appearance of
interest in the search, while constantly remind-
ing his men that.“ would probably be useless,
dud fully expected that he was running away

i , i

.w survivors -

- an announced that

 

from the belated fishermen, when he finally
sailed down on them in the darkness of evening.

When he saw Mike Clancy running down, for
a moment he thought it was Ned, and his heart
sunk within him. ‘ ‘

Then came the unexpected flash of a rifle,
and the coming of dark figures from behind the
boy, shoving the launch along, and even
Darke’s iron nerves were shaken for a mo-
ment, as he hastily changed the course of the
schooner.

Then they heard Mike yelling to them to take
him off, and Jim Clancy rushed to a dory with
Baptiste Landry, without waiting for orders,
aigdéiashed to his brother’s rescue as the Flash
3i p .

They saw the Spanish boat sent into the wa-
ter and coming slowly up, and hem-d Ned Nor‘
wood shouting to them, but Darke turned a
deaf ear to all entreaties to wait, after the dory
god lhooked on her painter to the stern of the

as .

He knew what he was about, he told them,
and no pirates could steal his vessel. ’

" Twelve lives are worth more than one,

boys,” he said. “ It’s not my fault if the Jonah’s
found at last. Keep her steady and get up that
stavsail.”

They kept on till the puffing of the tiny
propeller could be heard no lo er, when the
turned to the north again, and arke called a 1
hands to the foot of the mainmast.

“Now, look here, boys,” he said, to them,
“we’ve fooled away enough time, hunting for
men. We came out for fish. Ned Norwood’s
fallen into the hands of a lot of pirates, and
their ship must be cruising round here. in which
case we’ll be taken, if we don’t get out of this.
We’ve come nigh a hundred miles out of the
regular track of ships as it is. and I can’t waste
any more time. I’m ing to. beat up to the
ground we left in the 0g. We never had a bet-
ter. V That’s all. Go ferrard."

Mike Clancy stepped out:

“ Av ye pl’ase, sur—” '

“ I to d you to go forrard,”said Dukc,|harp-
ly. “ I‘ve no time to waste.”

There was some muttering among the crew,
and the giant captain stepped forward and
spoke in his sternest tones:

‘t’YVhols growling there! What‘s the mat-

rl -

“The he s think we ought to hang round till
it’s ‘daylig t and rocky Ned Norwood,” said
Perg. the Gloucester mm, sullehly.

“ ow can you expect to do that‘l” asked
Darko. “This schooner’s not armed. We’ve
not so much as a pistol aboard."

“Mike says there’sonl a few in the boat,”
was Perry‘s reply; “and hers ain‘t no ship at
all. She went down when we heard her firing
a n last night, skipper." .

‘ Yes, sur," put Mike. eagerly, “ and
they’re only a poor lot of divils, an way, sir:
but they’ve got Ned Norwood, an it’s my
belief they‘ll ate him before they’ve done.”

“Well, well," laid Darke soothing] . “I’ll
see about it in the morning, boys. 11 the
113.6%: time, go forrard. We can’t find them to-
m . .

The men went forward, and the fishin -crew
resumed the routine which had been sosu denly
interrupted by the advent of the ice, while the
Flash held on her course to the east and north,
finally changing to northwest and west, till she
had descrii-ed a complete circuit, and Darke
knew that she must be over the very ground on
which he had cast anchor before. *

The captain was up several times during the
night to peer out over the sea, and when day
broke he ordered soundings taken. ‘ '

The lead gave seven! fathoms, with the same
bottom on which they ad anchored two days
before. and as the sun rose the Flash cast her
anchor a second time.

,All'round them the sea was ruined by a cool
and leesant breeze from the north, but thin
str of cloud weregathering over the sky in
the south, and sweeping across it in slow and
solemn procession, while, low down on the
southern horizon, a thick hue was rising, in
front of which was the yellow glare of an " ice-

blink." ,

“ Set the trawls." ordered Dorks, as soon as
the boat was anchored, and the dories were got
out atonee and swept away in the rays ot‘a
circle, a mile in diameter, to set the long lines
of baited hooks. ‘4 . r

Darke watched them, and saw thatvone cf the ‘

dorisa, after setting its own trawl, rowed oil a.
little further to something in the water.. Scan-
ning the place throu h the glass, he discovered
that Jim Clancy an Baptiste were healing in
another trawl which seemed to be very full of
fish. Half an hour later Jim came in with a.
dor loaded to the gunwsle with hu 6 halibut,
he had foun
trawls set by his brother and Ned Norwood the
night when they were lost. .
The buoy fi had been broken off the buoy,
gas ifboth bad a pressed under water by the
ice, but evory hook on the trawl was full, and
nine out of ten of the fish were halibut, worth
seven cents a pound on the dock at Gloucester.
The newly.“ ,Darke‘hadv, fersseen it would,
drove all memory of Nod Norwood out of the

/

 

the very ‘

év. .. 

l
i
1

 

.1.

All

\.'

u The Fog Devil.

11

 

 

tn v.-

hoads of the crew for some time. The were
too on er to reap the harvest before t em to
think 0 anything else.

The crews of the Gloucester fishin -vessels
being paid b the value of their catch, t e same
as men in t e whaling service, are more inter—
ested in fish than in humanity, and hand-lines
were soon going over the side of the anchored
Flush, with a success that fairly intoxicated all
hands except Samson Darke.

He kept shifting his position from dock to
cabin and back again, l’urtivoly watching the
bane that was rising in the south, ice<blink and
all and longin for it to come closer.
he knew we 1 that it was a. northeast storm
coming again as it had come before, to be fol-
lowed by dense fog and ice, and he know that
when it once come, he would have an excuse
for no longer seeking Ned Norwood.

All daylong the hand-lines were going. and
as the shades of evening approached, the trawls
were lifted and brought in, the dories being
compelled to take two trips each before ‘they
could fully unload their lines of hooks.

And then us the evening fell over them, as

Darke had foreseen, a dense mist drove in from,

the south, followad by a northeast gale, in
which snow and sleet came down for a time, to
end in a. fog just as dense as that which had
heralded the ice before and the captain called
all hands to split fish and throw them into
the ice-pens of the hold before the floe came
back on them.

Already they had taken in nearly forty thou
sand pounds of halibut, and, could they only
remain there three days longer, they bid fair to
take home the largest load ever brought back
in a single trip. ,

The men ceased to talk about hunting for Ned
Norwood in their eagerness for gain. Their
only anxiety was to get theil‘ltruwls baited and
set again before it was too dark to do anything,
and they kep‘t the_bells tolling while they went
out and sun their trawls in seventy fathoms
of water, just as the ice came surging back to
them on the return tide. .

The Flash hove short on her anchor, and pre-

red to get. out of the way of the front

330, but when it reached t em they ound
that there were no icebergs near,- and con.
cluded to tie u to theice for the night. as
the safest place t ey could find in the fog. The
men want below, setting only a. single watch-
man, but Samson Darke kept gotng on deck at
intervals for half the night.

' When the morning came the fog thinned
again and Darke was the first man on deck.
About a quarter of a. mile from the schooner
lay a large iceberg dirt and stained, and on
gigs-(imp sat a. huge polar ear, beside an invert-

cry.

The captain started in a guilty way ,8 he saw
the dory and the bear.

“It’s our boat," he muttered. “There’s no
doubt of it. He was left on the fine. and the
bear has killed and eaten him. I’m safe.”

He shouted down the hatchwuy, and the men
came rushing on d

No sooner did they see the bear than Mike .

Clanc cried out:
“Its the white divil that stole our mate, cap-
tain. Let’s go for him wid the axes.” ,

 

' CHAPTER XIII.
run unoonr near.

A row bear is not a nice animal to d ht in
his own home, but the crew of the Flash d not
know exactly how much danger there was in
h

im.

Darke. who had seen bears before in a Green-
land sealing voy o. told them not to 0 too
near the beast on t e ice, for he was caps 19 of
annihilating the whole ship’s company.

“ I’ll coax him where we can fight him,” he
told them, and he went downy) his cabin for an
ancient shotgun. the only piece of artillery on
board, which he brought up and discharged at
the bear as the schooner neared the berg, which
was now at the very edge of the fioe.

The gun was loaded with duck-shot, and the
captain fired at the hour‘s heed, the distance
being "only a hundred yards.

The co uence was that a few shot struck
Bruin on the nose with just force enough to irrl~
tate him, and he turned his head toward the
schooner, and began to scramble down the berg,
growling as he came.

The men laughed at his awkward figure, but
Darke observed as be reloaded his old gun:

“ You’ll laugh the Other Side Of your months
if he ever gets Iboal‘d. b0”; Get barpoons,
Mike. He‘ll 5mm six knots an hour."

The bear got down to the edge of the fioe, and
dashed into the water, With perfect bolan to
swim out to the schooner. 80138 I0 fast that he
was close to her side before the captain had :9.
loaded his gun. _ i -

There was . 13m. gap in the ice betwseu him
and the Flash, and it showed his anger and
boldness that he swam over it instead of skirt-

ingth oe. .

he crew of the Flash gathered with all Iorts
of won 4 118, b no, axes, lobster-spears, and
one or wo old p has to repel the invader, while
\D'Fk' “mm” in I his charge of shot.

. ‘-i .54?-
,_ -_, v. , max

 

 

The bear came alongside and tried to climb
up the Flash by hookin one of his lon curved
claws into the main c lannels, but we a bat-
tery of ax-blows full on the huge paw that he
withdrew it with a snarl of pain and rage, and
sworn round to the boweprit.

Here he had easier work; for the hobstays
under the bowsprit touched the water and in
half a minute he had swung himself up and had
his head over the rail.

“Keep back," shouted Samson Dnrke. as the
Eugen rushed to repel the assault. “Leave him

me.

He saw that the bear was a little pulled at
the forestny which happened to be right in
front of his nose, and the captain stepped to
the great pile of cable by the foremost, rested
his old gun on the coils and sent a charge of
duck-shot into the bear'u face at less than six
feet distance, extirpating both eyes and causing
the animal to tumble over into the sea, howling
dismally and struggling in a blind aimless way
thatrcarried it further from the ice every mo-
men ..

“There,” cried Darke triumphantly, “ now if
any of van want his skin just go out in dories
and kill him. He can’t hurt any one now, if
you don’t let him get aboard."

But the men had had too much of polar-
bears already to want to go after the monstrous
beast, blind or not. ‘ ,

They watched him swimming out to lea, not
knowing where he was going; and then they
went on the ice to reclaim their lost dor .
They found it half-way up one side of the o d
berg and came back dragging it totbe schooner,
but all looking pale and scared, headed by
Mike Clancy.

” Captain, captain," said the honest fisherman,
“ there’s been bloody murder done in that dory
andwopor Ned Norwood’s been. ’aten by the

as . ,
Derke asked how they know.
He could not restrain a. certain look of con-

tent, not to say exultation, on his face, which.

he had hard work to tone down. .

“ How do y? know it's Non-wood!" he asked.

“ We found is coat. air, all torn to rage.” said
Mike. shaking, “covered with blood. and the
bones of him left, all bloody.” :

Darke’s face paled with anxiety.

“ Are you sure, sure?” be asked.
know they were his bones?"

Mike pointed to the her .

“ You can see for yourse f, sir,” he said.

Darke made no reply but leaped from the rail
of the Flash on the ice and hurried to the foot
of the berg.

u no", diyg

Theice of the flea was getting rotten under ,

the influence of the fog and he could trace the
footsteps of the party that had preceded him.

Arrived at the foot of the he now also

the huge footprints of the beaten at the place
where the dory had been lying he found a ittle
bloody atch in which were screwed bones.
pieces 0 flesh, and the remains of a heavy ilot
coat, such as he knew Ned Norwood to have
worn.

The garment had-been clawed into shrodeund
gigound in fragments among the bones and

Even Darke much as he hated Norwood in his
jealous could not avoid a shudder as he looked
at the orrible s cle.

“Poor fellow! ’ he muttered. " It's true. ., He
must have run from those 1 llows and they
chased him into the bear’e mou b."

He remained staring down at the, cute
in a spellbound fashion till the sound 0 uteps
coming nearer roused him to mutter:

“ They can’t blame me now, surely.”

The new-comer was Mike Clancy, who was
sniveling with lot as he said:

“ And ’twu mself was the good boy, skip-
per, and we’ll hover see him again. Bad luck
to the baythen pirates, what were they doin’ up
here. anywa , at all, at all!"

arke me no answer but to any:
h ‘1‘ Go ,back to the Flash. What’s done can’t be
e
hen be got to the vase] he called the men
to the mainmut and told them:

“ Men we need seek no further for Ned Nor-
wood. e has been lost. I thought at first he
had been carried on! by those pirates, but as I
never heard of any irates on the Banks of New-
foundland, I can t lievo those men “were pi-
rates. They probably belonged to some foreign
navy, and their men didn’t understand our lan-
guage. Nevertheless, I’ll put this to vote. If
any of you think we ought to go back to Glen-
caster and give information to the revenue cut-
ters that a strange craft is hovering round here,
I’ll ut back at once. Those who wish to go on
fishing, vote the other way. Those that want
to go to Gloucester hold up their hands."

Only Mike Clancy raised his hand. and Jim
growladtohimr r .- "

“ What d’ye want to be doin’ that for! The
man’s dead, and that’s all there is about it,
while the fish are ning like mambo!»

m,
303.379?) make fifty ollars a week, bedad.” n

Dorks smiled approvinuly. ‘ '

moon : .
“ I think you’re right, he 5., It’s no use fret-' rfierc

ting for the dead, and the iving must be cared
for. We’ll draw the trawls u soon no they

\ ,  . ,‘ \

.‘Dar .”

 

fom’o in sight again from under this confounded
no

But as the day went on the fog grew so thick
they could not find the trawls, and were obliged
to fish over the side again, With hand-lines till
the tide carried them back. . -

Here their luck seemed to have forsaken the
at last, for not a bite did they get for hours, and
on sounding discovered that the ice had floated
themduring the night into twenty-five'futhoms
instead of seventy-five, with a rocky bottom
where fish seemed to be scarce.

But for the fog they would have made sail
and felt their way out, but they could tell from
various indications that the fog was breaking
up the ice, and they feared to run into someun-
known eril.

Deep ollow cracks went runnin across the
floes, while the bergs began to to p 9 over, even
in the midst of the fie] —ice an there was no
wind to carry them out of the danger.

Darke began to be uneasy at the matrices of
the large iceberg and warped the schooner

along the doc to a position where he knew the '

nearest berg to be at least half a mile oil’. Then
he waited for the tide to carry him back to his
old ground, sounding every ten minutes.

At noon, a
lead gave se euty~five fethoms with the well—
known bottom and almost at the same time the
fish began to bite on the hand-lines in a manner

that showedthey had come to the old feeding- r

ground. . :
Darke cast off from the ice. and let go his an-

chor. when the great flee slowly receded from

the Flash and in an hour more they were in open

. water, the dories poking about in a circle look-

ing for the buoys of the trawls.
Aloud hail announced that the

them at last and the business 0

commenced in earnest on the Flash.

CHAPTER XlV.
, run roe DEMONS. I .
Tun rest of that day was consumedhbflng-
ing in trawls. cutting up fish and rebaiting
the lines. When dar hem cloned in over the

had found
hauling in

 

Flash vDarke rubbed his hands and said. clouds

“ Ninety thousand pounds of halibut in a:
hold already, boys, and over six thousand do
lars to share. One more day like this, and wb’ll
f: in with such a halibut fare as was never seem

Gloucester before in the same time." '

They set the night watch in a fogdenser than
ever and the master sat up on sh: Weak,
smoking bi: pipe and listening lot 9 low lap-
lapping of the wavelets on the schooner: coun-
ter as she rode to her anchor. .

“ The ice won’t be in so early to-morrow,” ho
reasoned with himself. “ Maybe we’ll have
time 10 draw the truwls before we’re driven
a ayfrornthe nndaguin.” » -. ',‘- I

. e was burie in a pleasant reverie groan
to come, none the less pleasant that be it in
was rid of Nod Norwood for good, when it

seemed to him he heard his name pronounced}:

a tone of voice like. distant ball.
1” camera” fer-oi! voice. " 81mm

mm Wand looked round. ‘

There was no anon deck but Boptiote Ian- '
dry. who was Jamie; on the cable coils. and .

keoplifig a lookoutrforward. -.

“ you call me?” cried Duke. ’ 
Landry’s figure turned in the fog; .
“ Me, capitainoi. No. Vat for a cold I call!”

f‘ Pm sure I don’t know,” re lied Darko, in n I

testy tone. “Some one cal ed out ‘Durke’
nodltxben ‘ &t:l‘:o;o,Darke.’ Was it you?"
0, on -
Lon if
other as ng in an agitated tone:
“ ion say some one called, capitainei” .
“ Yes. I tell you. I heard it plainly." ,

“ And it call on by name!” ,

“ Yes. My riatian name too.” '
Ba tisto held his hand to his ear, whit ng:
“ us listen, capitaine. Maybe . hear

‘00.", l
He went to the main shrouds, and peered out
into the block fog, listening intently.

Presently came the voice again, thin an.)

hardly a his in the distance:
“Berke I Samson Darla r" v
“ Here!" shouted Duke, leapinfinp from the
rail where he had been sitting. be are you!”
Helistaned for the answer and pram it
came out o the fog 1n the some tone as
but not so ismnt.

“ Ned Norwood I” l '

Darke started violently and Baptiste uttered
a cry of horror and fell on his knees. ,

“Ban I” be sued. “it is do fnntome.
It in Norwood come ck.”

As for Duke, he was more disturbed than he
cared to let any one see, and it was to hide his
real tremor that be roared back: . ‘

“ Where are you 1'". . i ,

There was no reply for a moment and than
Ned’s voice answers : , ~_ , _ .

“coming! gonna/Owing mm .

The sweet burst cut on Dukes forehead. ,.
S‘What «awaken-poetry: thisrf. he cried

ely. “ Where are you, ed Norwood?"

N There was no answer, but a low laugh which
seemed to come from under the schooner'l

near as they could judge, the-

ftbispostundcame nearer to the I

 

.12

The. FOg Devil. ‘

 

counter, and Baptiste laid his hand on the arm
of the exvited man, saying in a low tone:
> ,“ Capitainel Do you not know vat dat is!”

“ Know what it isl” echoed 'Dsrke. “ It’s some
trick some one’s playing on board this vessel.
Who’s in the cabin?"

He'made but one spring to the companion and
peered into the cabin.

It was empty of all but sleepers, and the
cabin windows were closely fastened.

He went down and peered into face after
face but no one was shamming. He could tell
that easily enougic

Then he came k on deck more nuled than
he cared to own, and took hold of aptiste.

“ You’ve been playing tricks on me, ’ he cried.
“ You’re making those cries yourself.”

“ Me, capitainei" cried Ba tiste, aghast. “ Vat
for I play tricks on you? you not know vat
is dat sound in de fog?"

“Yes,” returned Darke, shaking him in his
giant grasp, “ it’s you, you hound—"

“Burke! Dorks] Dorks] Samson Dar-kc!”

The captain let oof Ba tisie and sing ered
bac'k’to the truths llike a runken man. here
was no longer a possibility of doubt that the
sound as not produced b any ventriloquism
o{ Baptiste, for the Can ian’s face had been
0 one to Duke’s, and he could haVe seen whether
Landry wasplayiug tricks. The cry came from
the water and nowhere else, and the voicp was
Ned Norwood’s.

Ba tiste rearranged his disordered dress and
said u a‘imembling tone:

“ Now on see, capitaine. Ah,
know vat know. Dat is vat ve ca
Bay le Diable dc Brouillard.”

' The what?” asked Samson vaguely.

“De devil, de Demon of do Fog. Ah, capi-
ne, it vas not for notinas Ve come out wid
't’irteen men on board." .

“What do you mean?” asked Samson in a
low tone; his huge frame guivering for the first
flmeDwif?!) sollgiethiniiz’likel  i

" 5 0g emon, sai ptiste' n shame
awestrickeu manner, “is de a irit ofzfle dead
sailor, run down in de mist. a come, he call
ontin do dark, and be lure do sheep togodat
way. Den do, sheep strike de rock and go to de
bottom. Dot voice ve hear is de demon. He
take devotee of Mtre am", Ned. Ks call. You
vill see, capitaine, ve catch no more feesh, and
vs ’ave misfortune before ya get home.”

Darke, tried to sneer in his old way.

“Ali, you’re superstitious,"be said. “There
are no such things as demons. You French-
men have strong imaginations, that’s—”

“ Daer I Dorks! Salmon Darke I”

‘. Again the voice interrupted him, and the cap—
tain turned and shouted:

» “ Where aw you 2’ Game aboard if you
dare I”

' The only reply was the same laugh they had
heard hetero, and tiste whisfired:

“It es se demon; tell you t. Youmust
not answer, or you viii 0 mad."

‘Darkewont to the si e and peered intothn

fo .

, fie was too much of a practical American
to believe in ghosts, and be had made n his
mind that if the voice in the fog was Nod or-
wood’s, Ned was alive. I

' But if so, where was be, and why was he
hailing the schooner in this unearthly way?

“Nor‘wcod,” he suddenly shouted over the
water ‘if ou‘re alive, why don’t you come on
heard W ere are yoni”

This tine there was no answer, but he heard
lthe plash of on car at no great distance. The
sound seamed to break the spell under which
he labored, for it satisfied him something was
afloat in the water. -

, One of his own dories was towing eaten, and
he drew it slon do and was’about tostep in
when Baptiste caught hold of him, saying with
great earnestness:

. “ Ca itaine, do not go. (fast lo Diable du

‘Bt'au' rdr—it is so Fog Demon. ' Be try to en-

, tine you to drown. Do not o.”_

. Darke shoob'cfl his hand, an“ .is fierce eyes
glared as he said:

~ “ Mind your own business Samson Darke
finches from neither man '.or devil. I’m going
to find out what that is "n the fog.”

. He took no car and smiled away the light
d’or in the direction in which he had last heard
the: lash of the other oar, calling out:

“Resp the bell sounding till I come hack.”

_, Baptiste ran to the bell and began to rin it
with all his might, while Darke sculled on fnto
the fog, peering round him as he went but see-

noth ng.

nee he thought he heard the dip of the other
par, and ceased sculling to call:
, “Norwoodl Where are you?”

 But there was no answer, and presently the
ankle of the Flash’s bell became so distant that
even Darke n to feel nervous and retraced
his course to vemel, where he found the

.crew on deck in a‘ state of great excitement,
Balffiste Landry havin‘ioroused them all nip to
its themshestoryof FogDemonand 017
the captain had gone after it. - '

’I‘he seemed to be much relieved at hhreturn
all ea c, and welcomed him hear-til .

 The bell wustoppedLandthsy Matteo-

ou don’t
in Guspe

/

 

tively, but could hear nothing more, till the
heaving of the water, in long, smooth, oily
swells, told them that the ice was approaching
them once more and melting fast.

Then they hove short on the anchor and got
readyto trip as soon as the tide brought the ac
upon them.

When it did, the discovered that it had
broken into several arge cakes: that the bergs
had broken off; and that the fog was thinning
so fast that they could see the moon, like a dul
red bell in the sky, and beheld the icebergs,
now much smaller in number, sailing by on
either side, in advance of the field-its, through
wlbich broad black lanes had opened in several

aces.

p Darke saw that he might be able to keep his
t if he could work h schooner into one of

sec 0 n lanes. Fortune favoring him, he did
so, an had the satisfaction of seeing all the ice
float by him at lon range, while the Flash
rode quietly at her ca la in seventy-five fathoms
of water.

When morning dawned the fog was thicker
than it had been at night, but, the light being
more powarful, Darke distin ished the same
iceberg by which be had foun the bloody dory,
and there it lay close to the Flash, With the
same dark red patch and the tattered remnants
of a fisher’s coat, nail to remind him that he
must have seen a host that night, for that Ned
Norwood was sure y dead.

Darke rubbed his eyes like one dared.

. “ Is that thing never to vanish?" he muttered
to himself staring at the berg. " I’ll go an 1 ex-
amine it. Surely there must be some mistake.
Dead men cannot call to living ones.”

He got into a dor and sculled over to the
foot of the berg. lt ad broken loose from the
doc in the night and had turned half over. The
dark patch, which had been on the top, was now
not far from the water's edge, and Darke was
able to examine it closely.

He evon stepp'ed ashore and picked up the tatr
ters of Norwood’s pilot coat.

Then he picked up one of the bones and mut-
tered to himself: '

“ Fool that I was to be frightened! The man
is not dead; that’s all. They are seal’s bones.
But how comes the coat to be torn? Never
mind. It will serve as well as another story.
Ned Norwood, if you are not dead, you soon
will be, if you’re anywhere in this ice. I’ll
teach you to come haunting me.”

He searched the rags of the flsherman’s coat
and discovered that it was only blood in one
place, where it had lain in the seal’s b nod, for
seal’s blood it was.

If the bear had torn it, no living man had
been inside of it. and'Darke becaibe satisfied of
this. after a careful examination.

What was it, then, which made him carefully
take the coat and roll it into a ball to throw
it into the water? Did he fear some one else
might make the same discovery-as himself 3

It is hard to so . All that is certain is that he
did it, and row back to the Flash, not noticed
by his sleeping men, wearied with watching.

CHAPTER. XV. *
ALICE.

ALICE Nuson was, sitting at the window, a
week after the Flash went to sea, when she
heard her father down-stairs calling:

“ Alice! Alice 1” in a peremptor tone.

She went down wondering wha could be the

matter, and found him looking very grave and

stern, as he walked up and down the parlor.
The judge had alwaysbee'n a strict father

but notan unkind one- and Alice was all the

more in awe of him, because she loved him

dear'ly.

“ hat is it, father?” she asked timidly: for
she saw he was not a little angry from the look
of his face, which was pale, with compressed
lips and bent brows. '

“Alice,” said her father sternly, “I have
teal-d, something today I never expected to

ear,

Alice changed color and lanced up in s
scared way at the old man, w 0 went on with
trembling voice:

“ I thought that my only daughter, whom I
brou ht up from the time when she was left,
a m herless infant, to my care, had some love,
somdladtrl-iu‘stte in hex-fathfi'II'i I th t that she
won n to m w es, wou reflect my

inions, would believe I meant every ing for
a: be’st, when I allowed or forbade her any-

ng.

He paused'as if for an answer, and eyed her
in such a way thatshs tried to speak, but could
only whi I", in asmall voice.

’ ' '

“ Yes, sir?” he echoed with some scorn. “ It
is all very well to say, y sir; but what have
you done? Did I not to d that young Nor-
;ood minimise, when lie dfiliberately chose to

ven sprospsctsn can throwaway
ail thgrssults of his education to become a
fisherman before the mast? DidIor

common
did I not?”

"Yes. sir," she wh “ but—”

“But what, Alice! peakout,” hesaid in his

I V .

sternuttones.
"But you had already con-entail wom- eu-

 

g

gngement,” she murmured, with her eyes on the
floor “ and it wasn’t fair, Ned said."

" ed said i" echoed her father, in his most
sarcastic tones. “ Ned said. So it came to
that at once. You must take his opinion
against mine, must you? Well, I suppose you
thou ht that I was sure to die, sooner or later,
and I was good for nothing else I was good
to leave some money behind me, on which Ned
could live in idleness?"

Alice lifted her eyes from the floor with more
spirit than she had yet shown.

“We thought no such thing, sir,” she said.
“ You on ht to know me better than that. And
as for N , if he had wanted to live in idleness,
he would not be a fisherman."

The judge listened without relaxing his stern
face. and broke out angrily:

“Yes, indeed, a common fisherman, smelling
of flshoil, and glad to get an avarage of ten
dollars a week, when you might marry n~en
worth their thousands, whose wage; he is glad
to accept. And so you have n holdin
clandestine meetings with this young spark,
hear, whenever I‘ve been away in Boston.”

Alice looked up again.

“ Not clandestine, sir. I've nevsr met Ned,
save in company with other people at evening
parties, and so on.”

“Evening parties?" echoed Judge Mason,
with intense scorn. “ Did he come to them in
his sea-boots, I wonder? Where were these fine
coming rtirs f”

“ At rs. Pew's, for one, sir; Mrs. Tim’s,
Mrs. Msnsfleld’s, and several others,” returde
Alice, not without a. slight sense of triumph, lol’
she knew she was naming the best people of the;
town.

The judge looked amazed. '

“What, do you mean to tell me those people
receive young Norwood, since he has gone be-
fore the mast?" he cried.

Alice smiled rather proudly.

“I refer you to them all, sir."

The judge took a turn up and down the room
before he spoke again, and Alice saw that he
ate ered.

on he resumed, it was to say:

“ Well, they’re very foolish lo, and I
shall tell them so. Romance is a lvery pretty,
but it is no foundation for married life. What
has that young man to offer you?”

“ His love and a home,” said Alice in a low
voice. “It‘s not much, but I could willingly
slave for Ned."

“ You’ll have to slave a long time,”,said (he
judge sarcastically, “ before you get any sort
of a home. Why, the man’s a beggar!”

Alice made no reply, and the ‘udge looked
out of the window over the bay, ramming on
the sash in a thoughtful mood. ‘

1 Alice plucked u courage to ask:

“ Who told yon hat I-met Ned clandestiner l"

“Never you mind,” was the answer. " It
was the truth andstbat’s enough. You went to
places on purpose to meet him without In con—
sent. The person who told me did right.

“ I suppose it was Samson Darke then.” said
Alice at a venture, and not having any idea
that the Flash had returned.

Her father started slightly and turned round.

“Well. what if it was?” he asked.

Alice could not believe her ears.

“ Was it he!” she asked. “ Has he come back
from sea already!” r
‘ Her breast was heaving, her eyes sparkling,
and dher father noticed her excitement and

e :
“pi-lolly toity, what‘s this? What’s the mat-

ter
“Oh, nothin , sir,” said Alice demurely;

“ onl y—only—

“ Only w at?” be snapped.

“Only Ned’s in the Flash ” she said, “and
he’s going to command the Flirt, next time he
goes out. He’s not quite a beggar. sir.”

The judge shrugged his shoulders. He had
got over his first burst of temper, and was cogi-
tatin over a trip to Boston.

.

“ ust to take the nonsense out of the child,” ,

he‘sfid, {210,himseli‘. u be "h n d i

‘ c, esnotqui a ggar, e rep e , n
a rather indiflerent wa . “I suppose he'll
make his, we in time, at all the same, till
he's made it, don’t choose to have your name
mixed up with his. He ought to ave more
honor than to hang round my house after I‘ve
forbid it. He might be here today if he hadn’t
been too—toc—” _

“ Independent, sir,” said Alice, quietly. “ He
knew lyou didn'nreally want a clerk and he
would ave been living on charity, so he chose
to earn his bread honestly and every one honors
him for it.”

She had never in her life felt so brave in
speaking up for Ned as she did at that mo-
ment. Something seemed to spur her on to his
defense and her words made some impression on
the old judge for he saidyhurriedly:

“ Oh, that’s all right. I don’t object to that.
Independence is all right of course; but I won't
have him coming after you. I’ve other inten
tions for you." ‘

- Alice looked at him nervously.

It was the first time he had everspoken opezr

ly of such a thing. -

 

 

7 The Fog Devil.

 

13

 

 

“ What other intentions, sir?" she asked.

“ I want you to think seriously of marrying
Captain Samson Darke,” said the judge, in his
most decided way, 5 king loud and fast, to
overhear an possib e interruption. “I want
to have you 00k at marriage in arational light,
not in a halo of silly and undutiful romance.
Captain Darke is a wealthy, one of the wealthi-
est men in this town, and he has risen from
nothing to be what he is. With all his outward
roughness he is a man of sterling good sense
and practical education. Like an honorable
gentleman he has s oken to me first, and he is
none of your back: oor suitors—”

" No," interrupted Alice, stung into reply.
“ He’s a. back-door eavesdropper and tale-bearer,
instead and I hate him.”

The judge stopped, aghast. He could not
have been more amazed if his daughter had
'thrown a jug at his head.

For gentle Alice Mason to interrupt her father
and use violent language about any one was an
unheard-of thing, and as soon as she had done
it, she burst into tears and began to sob in self-
defense. Judge Mason looked at her narrowly,
and then began in his most sarcastic way:

“Upon my wordl Well, Alice, I must say
that your fisherman lover has taught you a
singular style of manners. I don’t wonder
'vou‘re rude to me. That’s natural. I’m onl
your father, and fathers don‘t amount to mac
till they’re dead, and not then, unless they leave
plenty behind them. But I want you to under—
stand one thing, Captain Darke is not a person
to be insulted by a child like you, as an eaves—
dropper.
sort. ’

“ Then how did you know I was with Ned?”
asked Alice, sobbing. “ He must have told

u."

" He did, but only by accident,” answered
the judge earnestly. “ Come. you must be just
to this gentleman, whose only fault is being
foolishl y fond of you. Let me tell you how it
happened. I met him this morning, coming
from the fish warehouse, dressed in his shore
clothes, as fine a looking fellow as ever I saw,
and he told me that he got in last night, after
making, in only five days, the largest halibut
fare ever' sent into Gloucester. netting eight
thousand dollars, to divide with his crew. I
asked him how he hit on such a nod ground, and
he told me, with a. laugh, the was his secret,
and that he hoped to takes good many thou-
sand dollars out of that hole before the summer
was over. Then it was that he suddenly began
to speak about you, and asked my permission_to
pay his addresses to my daughter. I told him
he had that, but that I could not constrain our
afiections in in? mg.

our fancy for‘ ed orwood, and he spoke of

§ed in the kindest way, and sighed who said
that he had noticed you other 9. ad deal,
but bad no idea that Ned ha any ear ous inten-
tions.”

“Did he say that?” asked Alice, eagerly. .

“Certainly. Then I questioned h m, and it
all came out, very reluctantly on his part I as-
sure you, but enough to give me a c ow to the
truth", led h H

Alice cur er p.

“Then it's just as I thou ht. He did tell
tales. I hate him, father. I te i you I hate him.
If he were the last man in the world 1 would
not marry him. Not to get—"

" Ting! tang!” .

The sharp r ng of the door-bell interrupted
the colloquy at this interesting point, and the
lige turned rather red as he went to the door

imsel .

in New England, where servants are scarce,
and housekeepers particular, it is not at all un-
common for people of means to do their own
housework, and the sole domestic at the Mason
domicile was the black cook in the kitchen, who
never answered the bell when the family was at

ome.

h “ Don’t you go upstairs till I come back,”
said Judge Mason, as he went to the door, and
very soon she heard him talking in a low voice
to some one, when heavy steps came across the
hall and into the parlor.

Then Alice looked up and saw the tall and
massive figure of Samson Darke. no longer
dressed in rough fishing-clothes, but attired
with the faultless elegance of a Boeton man—
and Bostonians are renowned for being the best-
dressed men in the Union—and looking un-
deniably handsome, not to say grand.

Samson Darke at sea was a viking in his
brawn and vigor; Samson on land looked like a
leader of men, born to the purple. His grand
:hysique, revealed by a Closely-buttoned frock,
hs flowing beard and curly hair, his re larly
chiseled face, fierce blue eyes and deep ionine
voice, would have attracted attention in any
assembly, and evan Alice Mason, as she looked
up, could not help thinking:

“ What a ran -looking fellow he is!”

Then the ticught came into her mind:

“But how mean! To think that a man like
that should try to undermine poor, friendlees
Ned with my father.”

The judge came forward with Darke.

“ Captain Darke has called, Alice, to see ou_
.I hope you will make matters pleasant to mi,

The fact is, he is nothing of the,

I even told him a ut.

 

for he is a great friend of mine. I am going
to the office to write a letter. Captain Darke
will stay to dinner.”

With this very pointed hint, the judge took
his departure, to Alice’s great dismay, and she
was left alone with the iant, who, on his part,
bowed with an case she ad never seen in him
before, and observed in his dee base voice:

“The judge insisted, Miss lice, and would
take no excuse. I hope I don’t discommode ye
in the house.”

He spoke slowly choosing his words with care,
as he always di ashore, without a trace of sea
slang.

Alice replied coldly:

“ An friend of my father’s has a right in his
house, presume."

Then she went and sat down at a table and
looked toward the door as her father went out,
thinking:

“ How shall I et rid of this man? And Ned's
ashore and I can t go to see him.”

Samson Darke watched her keenly and al—
lowed a deep silence to settle on the room for
more than a minute, when she looked up in
desperation, saying:

“ I—I hear you had—a very favorable voy:
age, captain."

Darke shru ed his shoulders.

“ Yes I di . But I never talk shop on shore,
Miss Alice. I’ve something to tell ye."

Immediate] she find her eyes on his in a
chillin , repe out way.

She o d that he would ofler himself at
once, tha she might have the pleasure of giving
him a rebuff, to send him away for good.

“ Well, sir, what is it?" she asked.

Darke put his hand into his pocket, and
watched her furtively as he said:

“ Miss Alice, ye‘ll remember that the day I
left ye last I was rude and angry to vs. I
thought I had a ri ht to be. I thought that a
young man, who 5 all be nameless, was laying
a dishonorable partto ye and in espec al was
wronging the Judge, your father. I said things
I had no right to say and I ask your pardon."

Alice was a little surprised, but she could do
no less than bow her head and say:

“ Well, captain, you were rude, but since you
apologize, I’ i try to forget it."

“ I don’t ask ye to for at it,” returned Darke.
steadily. “ Part of it mean to—day. I told
ye then, that before Ned Norwood should take

e from me for good, there would be a fight
hetween us. I meant that then, but I don't
mean it now. I’ve learned something since
then that alters the whole case.”

Alice had changed color as he spoke and
looked at him in a frightened way.

“ What do you mean i" she faltered.

“ Alice Mason,” said Darke slowly, and as he
spoke he drew from his pocket a large envelope.
“I didn't tell the judge what I know, or 'twould
have been a bad time for you. I held here in
my hand the letter that shows ye were married
to Ned Norwood the day before I left 0, and
therefore I’ve no further call'to inter ere be-
tween ye. Here's the letter.”

Alice had turned as white as a. sheet as he
spoke. This was by no means what she had ex-
pected. She took the acket in a mechanical
way. and asked in a du monotonous tone:

‘ How did you get this? Did you steal it
from him?”

Darke rosequietly from his seat and looked
down at her in a quiet, dignified manner, as if
he was wounded at the uestion.

“ Alice Norwood,” sai he, “ but for what I
know, which you do not knew, I should be
angry. But my poor girl, I’ve no heart to be
angry now. I did not steal that; but I took it
from Ned Norwood’s ba . It was my ri ht as
captain to look over h effects, after h 3 dis‘
ap rance—”

n a moment Alice was on her feet, with a
shrill scream.

“ Disappearance!” she cried. “ Oh Darke,
in God’s name tell me on don’t mean t. There
has been a storm.

lost. Don’t say he‘s lost. Dear good Captain

Darke, I‘ve been very rude to you. I beg your
garden. But don‘t kill me. Don’t tell me
ed’s one. Don‘t, don’t, don’tl"

She ad fallen on her knees and had hold of
the big man’s hand, looking up at him with a
singular expression of agony on her features
that he only half understood.

“Don’t say he’s dead,” she pleaded, “ orI
shall die too. Oh, you don‘t know all."

Samson laid his hand on her shoulder.

“ Bear up, my lass," he said slowly.

“ Ned ’s
dead 2” ,

 

CHAPTER XVI.
TEE MISSING moors. '

AND the momont he said “ Ned’s dead "Alice
Norwood dropped on the floor in a doe faint,
while a spasm crossed Darke’s iron features,
and he muttered:

“ She’ll et over it; they all at ovor it. Bet-
ter get it one quick. Poor ch d, poor child!”

He picked her up and laid her on the sofa,
then went and rat down to watch her.

He noticed that she had drop on the floor
the envelope containing the otter. He had
found it in Norwood‘s bag, which he had ex-

to

e has been hurt, but not i

amined after it became evident that the
oung man was not coming back to the Flash.

6 discovery had not at first surprised him,
for Ned had already confessed the marriage,
but he put away the paper in his own pocket,
feeling the advantage it would give him in fu-
ture operations.

Now he picked it u from the floor and put it
back in his breast, w ile Alice lay on the sofa,
white and still.

Had Samson been an ordina man, he would
have been frightened by the fa nting-fit, but he
had been in too many parts of the world, and
had seen too much of women, as well as men,
not to know that the best way to cure a fainting-
iit is to leave it alone.

In the course of a few minutes the girl gave a
deep sigh and opened her eyes, when Samson
Darke quietly withdrew to the back room,
where she could not see him, and awaited de-
velopments.

Presently Alice rose on her elbow and looked
round in a bewildered way.

“What’s the matter?" she murmured. “I
thought—I thought»—"

The captain of the Flash coughed slightly,
and she started up, looked at him, and cried in
agitated tones:

“I remember—oh, tell me—have I~have I
said anythin i"

She Seems to be much frightened at sonic-
thing. and Darke came to her at once, saying,
soot ingly:

“ No, no, ye said nothing—nothing. Fear
not, Alice Norwood. Your secret is safe in my
hands. None shall know it.”

The color rushed over her face again, and she
stnmmered in a low voice:

“ Oh, what must on think of me‘i"

“Think of ye?" ec oed Samson cheerily. “ I
think you're the best girl in Gloucester, Alice
Norwood. and any man that says a word
against ye will havo to deal with Samson
Darke.”

“No, no, it’s not _thar," she said hurriedly.
“I don‘t mean that, but—"

Here she suddenly began to search for the
paper she had dropped, and her face took an
appearance of great alarm.

“Where is it!” she gasped. “Oh, I shall be
ruined, if it's not found."

” What?" asked Samson coolly.

“ e(y—-my—the aper you gave me," she an-
swer hurriedl er color deepening. “I had
it. Did I faint What has happened?”
Samson looked at her with apparent surprise.
" What pager d' a mean i" he asked. “1 gave
ye no paper ut a utter."

Alice put both hands to her head and stared
at him. as if she could not believe her ears.

“ What?” she said. “Am I going mad?
What did you tell me? Repeat it please.”

“ I told ye,” said Samson quiet , “ that Ned
Norwood was drowned. I was go ng to tell ye
more, but ye fainted away."

“ But you gave me a paper,” persisted Alice
more firmly. “It was the certificate of my
marriage to Ned. He had it. Where is it?”

Samson looked at her narrow] .

“ I fear that the shock has a acted your me-

mory. Alice. ve ye a paper, true, but it
was not that. 1’ repeat the etc and 6 shall
know all. When I went to the F ash, ed Nor-

wood was aboard. He went to the Banks with
us and out in a dory with another man to set a.
trawl. While they were out the fog came
down and the night with it, and they were lost
in the dark—"

“And you never searched for them?" asked
Alice in a half-whisper.

Samson Darke frowned slightly.

“ We searched for them, as ye’ll hear. I
know ye hate me, Alice, but e’ve no reason to
do so, as ye’ll find out before ong.”

Alice made a deprecatin mOVement.

“I beg your pardon; ’m not well. Please
forgive me, ca tain. Tell me all. I seem to be
stupid and con and.”

‘ I’ll tell ye all' _I’ve nothing to hide."an-
l swered Samson in his frankest manner. " Th iy
were lost in the fog, and we were nearly run‘
down by a steamer soon afterward so that we
were unable to do anything more till morning.
We had even lost the direction in which they
went. During the night a great field of ice
came down with the tide, and we were 0in ‘
to get u the anchor and make sail to avoid
ing orus ed. In the light of morning thef
cleared off, and we be an the search and kep
it up all that day. e judged the two men
must be on the ice somewhere. That night we
came on one of them, but Ned Norwood was
not found.”

“ How—how did you find him?" interrupted
the girl; “ the man. I mean. Who was he? ’

“His name was Clanc ; and when we saw
him, he was being chased y a white bear. We
managed to beat the beast on and save the man,
but he told us that Norwood was still an the ice.

Tm next day we found the dor in which the
tw. had set out. with blood over it-, and
’

Ned's fishin meat lsy beside it under the
who had kified the poor fellow, from the indi‘a-
tions, beyond a doubt.”

Alice shuddered violently, and turned dead~
ly pale as he spoke: but Samson pursued:

 

‘14

 'IVIThe Fog Devil.

i

 

 

“ Don’t faint a n. Alice—it’s useless. Keep
control of curse f. Ned’s gone, and it can’t be
helped. on are alive, and .you know what
your future will be if this aflair with Ned Nor-
wood is not hushed up—J’ ,

“ Hushed upi” echoed Alice indignantly.
"No,.no, there is nothing to be hushed up now.
It is a punishment to me for not telling the
truth before. Oh, why was I so foolish as to
hide my marriage with Ned? I thought he
would come back, and yet, and _ et—"

She burst into tears and Dar e allowed her
to sob some time before he spoke.

“You asked for a paper,” he said. “It drop—

from your hand when you fainted. Here
t is, but it is not the certificate you think.
It is only a letter to your father, which I
found in Ned’s bags”

He handed her t e envelope he had given her
before, and Alice looked at it stupidly.

“ Why, I thought—I thought you said—"
she stammered.

“You thought I said I had the marriage
paper. No, that letter is unsealed, as you see,
and of course I read it.”

Alice opened it and read the following:

“Jonas: Knox:—

“Bm:-By this time you will learn that your
daughter, who has left your house with me, has
doneso as my wife. We were married on the day
before the Flash left on her last voyage to the Banks;
but at Alice‘s earnest enmaty I consented to allow
the marriageto remain a secret till I came back
from that trip. Now that I am in charge of the
schooner Flirt. I feel amply able to supfirt my wife,
and ask no favors of any one. Remem r sir, that
you once consented to our engagement, andyou had
no right to break it 03 because I met with un-
marked misfortune. We shall alwa sregard you
with sincere aflection; but it rests w th you to say
what shall be our relations in future.

“ Yours respectfully,
“ Euwum Noun-con."

Alice looked at him stupid] .

“ But you said—you said——

“ I aid that I had found out you were mar-
ried,” replied Samson quietly. "That letter
was evidently written to be dispatched after
Ned mt here. It rests with you to say whether
it shall be. It ism la, is it, that you
have not pt our to in your own pos-

on, as

Alice looked at him in a helpless, dazed man.
nor as she said:

". ed had it. I was a coward. I didn’t dare
tokeep it. And now it’s gone. Oh my God,
what shall I do, what shall do?”

Ste 11 to rock to and fro on the sofa,
~ moaning n a low tone. while Darke’s eyes wore

s sin larlight as he watched her.

“ hen have ye no means of proving your
marriage?" he asked, in a hard cold way.

Alice stopped moaning and looked at him
drearily as she answered:

‘ “None none. 0h Darke, I’ve been a wicked
fool and I’m being punished for it. You have
your revenge no’w.’

She seemed not to mind what she said to him,
snd he questioned more closely. , ‘
“ Do 0 mind the minister that married ye,
' Alice Ellison?” he asked.
1 She caught the diflerent name, and threw up
her head proudly.

“My name in Alice Norwood," she said to
him. “Youknow that from that letter."

Samson shrn his shoulders. ‘

“The letter s nothing. It was meant to be
delivered when he came back; but he has not
some back. It’s important that e should
know the name of the minister. e was a
Gloucester man, perhaps?”

‘Alice clasped her hands on her knee, and
rocked to and fro moanin : '

“Oh my God what ah I doi what shall I
do! Who could have thought of this?"

Darke laid his hand on her arm. ,

" that, Alice. I see there’s more in this
than ought. ,Before we go any further tell
I: d’ye think I’m your friend or your foe?"

' ice shuddered and moaned out:

" I don’t know, I don’t know. I suppose you

"think on love me. Oh Ned, Ned my poor
, .boy.w era are you now? Oh my bed! what
shallldoi What shallIdo‘i”

_ “ I’ll tell ye what to do,” said Samson in a
low voice. ‘Conflde in me wholly. Tell me
the name of the minister.”

. Alice made a gesture of despair.

“ I don’t know ” she murmured. “ It was in
Boston; a man never saw before. I don’t
even kn w the street he lives in. It was at
s ht; was frightened halfvto death, and we
5 to t back to Gloucester before morning.
I shoal know his face; but that‘s all. But it’s
~.no use, it's no use. I couldn't find him. I'm
ruined, disgraced forever.” .

She began to rock and moan again, while
Samson kept his eyes fixed on her in a way that
showed his trinm h. .

At loathe said u a low tone:

:03: needn't be disgraced at all, Alice‘ Nor-

w .
sé°§$°fl°fihmp° “’33” “:35; °“
. w on rs clues in
 We might havePewaited. Oh, I mi hyt
huhonnogoodcouidcomeofa child
obeying her went." ~ '

 

, Banister! Darke interrupted her.

“ Ye say right, Alice. Yet ye do it now.
Your father has given his consent that I should
marr ye and ye will not listen to me—”

“ h, don’t, don’t talk of marriage.” said
she, with a strong shudder. “Do you not know
I’m his widow ?”

“ Ay," re lied Samson, in his deep voice. “ I
know it well); but no one else will. Hear .me,
Alice Norwood. Before ever ye saw that boy,
Need, i. knew and lOVed ye. He was young and
handsome, I, a rough sailor. I hated him be‘
cause he took e from me. Now see in what a
Blight he has eft ye. A widow, indeed. Yes,

ut what will the folks of Gloucester call ye'i A
widow bewitched. Ye can prove nothing. Ye
don’t even know the minister that ye clnim

married ye. I am the only man in Glouces—
ter that will believe ye. Your own father
wouldn’t.”

Alice shuddered and buried her, face in her
hands. Too well she knew that he was telling
the truth to her.

“Now,” pursued Samson, “there’s only one
way to hush all this up and make the world
think that happened which did not happen.
Ye must marry me forthwith.”

As he spoke he rose up and looked downon
her with his fierce eyes re ting:

“Ye must marry me orthwith. I know ye
hate me. I care not for it. I know ye love Ned
Norwood. I care not for that. I’ll make ye
love me Alice Mason. I’ll make ye. Yes, t e
day lcome when ye’ll bless me for saving
ye from the man that oft ye in your trouble to
dislgrace. Ye must marry me."

hey heard a step on the front door and the
noise of a. latch-key in the lock and Alice ut-
tered a faint cry:

“ For God‘s sake, don’t tell him. Don’t.
He’ll kill me. Don’t—"

“ Will ye marry me then?” asked Samson in
his coldest, hardest tone. “ Which is it to be,
peace or war? Will ye marry me?"

Alice seemed as if she was about to faint
again, but recovered herself by a violent effort,
and her eyes flashed as she said:

‘lYm."

In a half-whisper she added: .

“ But I shall hate you all my life long.”

Samson Darke laughed aloud.

“ Be it so. You think so. I’ll make you love
mirth? P" (103’; door and alked i to

9 open t w n,
be . tog by Samson anytigtg:

‘ iss Alice has consen to marry me, sir,
and has set the day for next Monday.‘

—_

‘ cums xvn.
’ run was.
Tun jud turned to Alicewithhisfaceina
ha‘lf incr ulous smile. .

‘Is this true, Alice?” he asked.
“He says so," she replied in a monotonous

ws .

“YIt makes no dlflerence, I suppose. Monday
will do as well as another day. Will you ex-
cuse me a few moments?”

She went out of the room and Samson ob-
served to the in e:

“ Don’t notice er. , It’s natural she should be
a little disturbed. I’m much older than she is.
She will come round all right. You see the fact
is she was v fond of poor Norwood and we
must give her t me to get over it.”

“Over what!" asked Mason in a tone of some
wonder. “ Has anythin happened to him?”

“ Didn‘t I tell out” ed nrke, innocently.

“ No. You to d me nothingf except that you
had seen them together after forbid it."

“ Oh, well.” said Samson. coolly. “ He’s

“ Deadl”

“ Yes, dead. Drowned.”

The judge uttered an exclamation of wonder
not unmixed with sorrow. .

“Poor boyl What 'a pityl And I thou ht
that he had a bright future before him! ow
did it happen, Darke?”

“He went out in a dsry in the fog, was lost,

and we found his coat on an ice-floe after the-

fog cleared.”
‘ Then he couldn’t have been drowned,” the
judge ob acted.

“ Did say drowned? I was wrong. The fact
is I don’t like to say exactly how he was killed,

‘ jud ‘n

by not! Surely on can tell me.”
“We 1, you know w on the ice comes down
from Greenland in 1 masses it is not uncom-
mon toflnd on it wb te hears that have been
carried oil on bergs."

The judge turned pale and shuddered as he
said in a low tone:

“ Surely you don’t mean—”

Darke nodded vFmvely.

“ I fear so. e shot the beast afterward,but
“a”??? “'3 “:3” “all m. htfnll

e u go urn away wen ong y

tothe window. ‘ . .

Presently he said to Darke: ,

"Poor girl! It’s strange. How could you
end iupemsdlngherto marryy if shewss
really oudofNorwoodi I can‘ttoiglte snake it
out, It’s not natural.”

 

Samson had been waiting for that question,
and his wits never failed him.

“ I think Alice is very proud, sir."

“ Proud? What has that to do with it?"

“I think she’s afraid people might say she
was pining for a lover, and marries me to show
she docs not." .

“ Humph I” observed Mason. “That’s no sort
of a reason.”

“Ladies have no reason,” said Samson, in a
shrewd manner. “You can’t judge them by
our standard. Besides, what difference does it
make if I’m satisfied? I know she doesn't like
me. but I’ll make her do so after we’re married,
judge. I had to strike while the iron was hot.
or I might never have got her. And now 1’”
tell you what it is. I won’t stopto dinner here.
Give her time to get over her first flush of grief,
and don’t speak to her about Ned Norwood
whatever you do. Leave it all to me. but be
ready to come to church'next Monday:

The judge seemed tobe somewhat wildered
as he promised, but he agreed to leave his
daughter alone, and Samson Darke left tho
house, his head high in the air, saying to him-
self as he strode along:

“I have her now. She can’t go back on her
word, and I’ll hold her to it.”

Then, as he went, the thought came: .

“ But what if Ned Norwood should come
back?" .

The answer came immediately:

“He’ll find me married to Alice, and what
canbe do? Will he tr to take her from me
and reclaim her in the ace of all the scandal it
would cause? No he will not or I don’t know
the man. He’ll think she’s deserted him and
away he’ll fir; to the deviL I‘m clear of him
any way. idea, to take her from me is to
stain her name forever. He won't do that.
Bigamv is an ugly crime to accuse a woman of,
and he‘s just fool enough to let her go.”

He went home to attend to his business, and
for the rest of the week announced every where
the fact of his approachin marriage.

His schooners were dec ed with flags and he
had made up his mind, to detain them all in
port till the ceremony. was performed, and
then to sail for the flshing~ground he had dis-
covered on his previous voyage and to make all
he could from it by anchoring the whole fleet at
once there, before any one also found it out.

If the fish held out as be ex cted, he could
not between two and three ousand dollars
clear profit on each schooner within one week,
and he had seven of them.

‘ He had cautioned his own crew against tell- i
log any one the locality on which they had fal-
len, and they were quite willing to obey the
inilunction on which depended profit for ti em-
se ves. -

The do were on, and the eventful Monday
came; w ich was to Witness the culmination of
Samson Darke’s fortune for or evil.

On that morning for the rst time he be an
tofeel compunction of conscience as he loc ed
at Alice Norwood’s face.

It was haggard and drawn, pale as death
with dark circ es round the eyes, and she be
dressed for the ceremony in black silk when he
came to the house to see her, for the first time
since his offer. .

Judge Mason locked gloomy and fldgety and
bustle round the room, saying:

“ Now, Alice, Alice. this is reall too bad.
Who ever heard of a bride in black

“Who ever heard of a .bride like me?” she
answered, stolidly. “ Black’s the fit color for
thils d’ay, father. I’ve married to please you
on y.

Samson tried to put a light face on it.

“ Never mind.” he said to the jud e. “Black
or white ’tis all the same to no, so ong as I get
her. I’m ready now, as soon as Mr. Jenkins
comes.” -

Mr. Jenkins was the minister.

At that very mement came a ring at the bell
and Darke exclaimed eagerly;e
d .“ 1:51am Mr. Jenkins. t me go to the

cor.

The house was nearly empty of peo is, for
Alice had made it a condition to her fat or that
.the ceremony should be strictly private.

Besides themselves the col . relatives present
Were some of Darke’s kinsfo and the Boston
law partner of Jud e Mason, who was down in
the basement, smo iuga cigar and telling one
of Darke's pie:

“ More 11 e a “moral than a wedding. Never
saw such a set. Do they do things this way in
Gloucester, all the time?”

SoSameou had no difliculty in going to the
door in a nervous, excited way; for he began to
feel very uneasy and to wonder in his own mind
whether it was possible for him to get through
with the marriage without any hitc .

He opened the door expecting to confront the
Presbyterian clergyman, and beheld only the
letter carrier, who held out some letters and
then turned away.

What was it made Darke scan the back of
these letters so carefully? -

_ Nothing but hisuueaey conscience.

There were five of them: three to the no
one to Him Alice Mason, the it
-—ya it was: .

p-

 

 

The Fog Devil“

A. l 15

 

 

“ MRS. ALICE NORWOOD,
“ Oars Judge Mason,
“ GLOUCESTER, Mass.”

For one moment Samson Darko’s heart leaped
up into his throat, the next he sent the fatal
letter up his sleeve and went in to say to th...
judge with affected laughter:

“Disappointed again. Only the postman with
letters. One for Miss Alice Mason, the last
she’ll ever get I hope. Permit me, Mrs. Darke
that is to be. ”

She gave him a singular, scorni'ul look, and
curled her lip as she said:

“ Till l bear that name, I am Alice Mason to
you, sir.”

Durke flashed a. glance at her that made her
change color, and retorted:

“ indeed I think not. To others, perhaps, but
to me you bear a different home.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said the judge, hur-
riedly. “All nonsense to be calling her Miss
Mason, now. Excuse me a moment, while I
read these letters.”

Samson bowed, and was satisfied to see that
Alice avoided his look, as he whispe =
“11“"Shall I call you Mrs. Norwood before them

3

She pretended not to-hear him, and had her
own letter without an a logy. While 9, On his
part, withdrew out of o rvation and scanned
the letter he had hidden up his sleeve in the
hall

It was only too true. _

The address was “Mrs. Alice Norwood," be«
yond a doubt, and the postmark was “ Havana.”

He didn‘t know the writing, but be guessed it.
He remembered the foreign sailors that had been
on the ice, and knew that on] one man in the
world besides himself knew t at Alice had mar-
ried Norwood.

That man was Norwood himself and there was
no longer the shadow of a doubt that he was
alive; that be was probably coming back, that
all must be discovered soon.

Most men would have given n the game un~
der such circumstances: not so arke.

He excused himself from the house under the
pretext of having forgotten something, and huh
ried 01! to his own house where he tore open the
letter, and uttered a deep curse as the first lines
met his eye:

“ My darling wife I”

For a moment he turned white as a sheet and
his eyes glared like those of a hungry wolf.

Then he laughed to himself.

“ When you see our darling wife again she’ll
be some one elsc‘s arling wife," he muttered to
himself.

It cost him considerable eflort so far to calm
himself as to read the letter through, but the

1 contents more then re id him. .

The letter was da :

" mvuu. May 13—;
“ Mr Dman w m"

m:—

" By the best luck in the world the steamer goes
as I enter the harbor, mad I send tbllletter to save
you, i hope, from a world of grief.

“ 80d rant the Flash has not gggdiln before this
comes. don‘t want to think too of Samson
Darke, but 1 can’t help seeing that if a had been
anxious to rescue me I should not be away from you
now.

“ w nearl beln killed as it was but I
havg cocoas :23? thanksy to rfiy wonderful luc , and
have acquired a position here which will end in
making my fortune. What it is I cannot tell ou
yet, in ustice to others; but this I will say: i all

- good I shall be able to come back to Gloucester
a richer man than any in that town. Therefore,
darling, have no further hesitation. Proclaim our
marriage to our father and tell him that by the
next mall I shall send him subs'untlul proof that
Ned Non-wood is neither a fortune-hunter nor a

pauper. ‘
‘ In great haste
“ Your dflectlonate husband,
“ Emunn Nc'swooo."

arke nt down the letter and considered.
91s msst all come out unlessIcan intercc t

the second letter. And even then, he will
sure to write again. It cannot be hidden. 1
was a fool when I had him not to have killed
him at once. Why did 1 not? It must have
been him in the fog calling me. But what was
be about? I don’t understand it all. Only one
thins I’m certain of, that this shall not inter-

fere with my wedding.
He deliberate] tore u the letter into small
amps, which he nod 11 the em ty stove and

then BtI'Ode 01! tandgoMason’s ones with a
step as firm as if he had never thought ’of com-
mittin a crime. ' Y

He ound . the little company in the parlor
with the mmlsfar My to perform the cere-
mony, while Alice. 98-10 and listless. 0 ed him
from the depths of a longing chair as 9 came
in, with a strange. dfipalnns 100k which every
one noticed.

Then as the company ’0“  m". him he
wont to Alice and oflered his hand, aging:

gm time. Alice, if you 8" m“?

e rose slowl .

I- Can I speakywi'th you alone. on. mva‘
only one moment?" she and _in I 10" '0‘“: b!
«which was heard by all in the room.

Darkc bit his lips.

He knew that she

'blernciu

 

waboothW Mada-om

mercy-4.0 beg delay. She was breaking down
as the time came and dared not face the core-
mony. But he could not refuse the request,
proll'ered before so many people. ‘

“ Certainly.” he said.

Then he led the way into the back parlor just
out of ear-shot.

She was about to close the folding-door but
he whi<peredz

“No, no, 1 cannot afford it. I have too much
at stake in this. Tell what it is. quick. If it is
to ask me to put this 011’, no. You cannot sup-

ose I’ll make such a fool of myself as all that.
but else is it?”

“ Samson,” she answered in the same guarded
way, “it is only this: are you sure, sure, Ned is
dead i”

“ Sure! of course,” be said roughly. “ Didn‘t
I see his bones?" ,

“And you’re sure they were his? You’re
sure there’s no mistakell Oh, Samson, I’ve had
such dreams. I’ve seen Ned alive, somewhere
that I never saw in my life, in some tropical
country. I cannot feel that he’s really dead.
There must be some mistake.”

Samson Darke scowled.

“ Very well,” said he. “ Shall I tell these peo-
pic that your lover has run away from ye to the
tropics and taken with him the certificate of
your marriage? D’ye suppose they’ll believe
that? And suppose he does not come back?
Suppose he’s alive and married to some Spanish
woman? What them”

The man spoke cruelly, brutally, as was his
nature; but his last words out her like a whip,
and she shrunk buck, saying:

“ Oh, my God! what shall I do?"

Samson drew her arm within his.

“ The folks are waiting,” he said, shortl .
“ It needs no great head to make out what’s t e
matter with you, and if I don’t care, you’ve no
cause to. I’m making an honest woman of ye
Alice Mason. and ye ought to thank me, ins
of hanging back.”

Their short colloquy had attracted more than
one curious eye. and Alice shrunk behind the
stalwart figure of Darke to escape observation.
As for him, be repeated:

“ Como, are ye coming, girl. or do ye want
the whole town to know it all!”

Alice Norwood seemed tobe tryin to gulp
down something, but she bowed her cad and
went with him before the minister, who'be
reading the service, and proceeded smoot y,
till it came to the questions to the parties.

Samson replied In the affirmative to his own
question in aloud, firm tone.

Then the minister asked Alice:

“ Alice Mason, wilt thou take this man to be

thy lawful husband, to have and to hold, to love

and cherish till death you do part?”

Then the girl suddenly threw up both hands,
with a gasps: if choking for breath, and fal-
tered out:

“ Oh, my God, I cannot, I cannot! 0h, Ned,
Ned. where are you?" |

And with that down she fell in another faint.
ing-flt, while all the relatives run to ck her
up, and Dorks stood looking like u under—
c cud.

Alice had spoken out at last.

CHAPTER XVIII.
ran snvna scaoounns.

LAT]: that afternoon, Eamon Darke. in his
rough flshin -clothes once more, strode down to
the port, an hailed the Flash, that lay at an-
chor near one of the wharvos.

“Send a dory, curse you! Can’t you see a
man coming, but he must crack his lungs with
bawling to on? All hands make sail.”

The won ering seamen had been expecting a
bridal procession and a honeymoon nude: and
they saw nothing'but u cursing captain, in one
of those mood: when wise sailors steer clear of
the skipper.

A dory was into the water and pulling to
shore in the shortest time on record, when
Duke Mme “board. when and silent, and
growled to his mate as he went down-stairs:

"All hands make sell, and work out. I’ve
got something to
env one come down till we’re at sea.”

Honest Murphy nodded.

“ Ay, ay, sir.”

Then as the skipper went below the mate
roared:

“ va aboyl Pass the word to the rest. All
hands up anchor and make sail."

Then came a great shouting among the vmom
craft, the clangmg of windiessea, creaking of
pulley-blockfl. and. one by one. the 'seven schoon-
ers got up their anchors and zlided_out to sea in
the wake of the F133!» making quite a respect-
nblc pretense of being a fleet, and attracting
attention from every whorl-

Bcbooners goinz t0~the Banks are common
enough sights at Gloucester, and heats ItArtin
at the some time no more uncommon, but an
fleet- arc the result of rivalry and more recom-
-matchoe. v -

It was glue first time in the memory of man
thud-ale owner had taken out seven good
5°“! “(other and undertaken to PIC! It cow

that day it was certain that
/

 

 

do in the. cabin. Don’t let,

 

k.

Darke would be dubbed “ commodore " when-
ever be touched land. if not “Admiral Darke."

The most scornful onlooker was obliged to
confess that the Darke squadron was «handled
well, and went to sea With a steady and ac-
curate alignment that would not have disgraced
the navy.

The wondering fishermen watched them
stretch out with a southeast wind, close-hauled
on the starboard tack. and heading for Sable ,
Island, till one by one they vanished on the dim
horizon; and then all Gloucester was agog with
the story of Captain Darke’s inleri‘upted
wedding.

All sorts of stories were current about it,
thou h no one had any facts on which to work.

Sti 1, facts are not necessur to hang a story
on. in a country town, an it soon became
hinted all over the place that Samson Darke
had been standing up to 'be married. and that
the girl at the last moment had given him the
slip and run away with another bean, to “ fur-
rin parts." '

This story. was contradicted by others who
swore that the girl had not run awa at all,
but was lying at death’s door in the ewe of
Judge Mason, “all along of her been being
drowned at sea.”

Any way. all concluded that Duke had been
'ilted in some way, and had put to sea to hide

imself while 0 inions were divided.“ to the
fate of] Ned orwood. Some avorred that
Darke ad thrown him overboard out of 3te-
ousy, others that be had been swallowed by a
shark, others that he had joined a gang of
pirates and gone to Cuba. ’

This story had been set afloat the men of
the Flash, who had enlarged on e Clancy’s
adventures. related 1) himself. Mike had heard
Spanish talked, and e swore that the pirates
were Spaniards, while the papers contained the
account of how the Liberedor had sl out
of New York, and how the Spanish consul had
found it out after the was at sea. . *

It was rumored that two Spanish men-of—war
had been sent to cruise on the Ben to look for
the Cuban cruiser, and the story;o her-having
gone down was not credited in t least.

It was known that 188mmn Darla. when he
went to see, had taken with him a whole battery
of small-arms, but it was run cred that he was
talking of 30mgI to Greenland. seamig, if he
had bad luck flshitég, and the arms were
placed to that score in efault of another.

Meanwhile the little fleet, the object of so
much spernlation, sailed merrily on to sea; and
had sunk Gloncmter before nigztfall.

Captain Dcrhe came on doc as soon. as the
sun set and divided the watch. by the usual
method of “ thumbing the but.” . . 7

He had the lame crew as before, with the ex~
ception of the ominous ,thirteenth man, and
everything bid fair for a prosperous voyage, as
far as they could see. _

A week or ten days makes a great char: in
the aspect of the ocean in ringtimc,  hen
the Flash left Gloucsster ore, she had run
into immense fields of ice in the middle of
April. Now it was May and the lust boots that
came in reported all to heclear. as fans they

had gone. ,.
But Daakc knew that most of themhad only
been to eorge’l

BunkI booths taco
to the Grand Bank, w .e hilcvlvtnm'm .lay ,

well outside of this, at the Very go of tho »’

Gilgmfli th fob th moody. m
1‘ se n; c we , e on n
retired to his cabin, from whence he «mg not
forth till next morning, when the were passing
over Gear e’s Bank, with fls lug-schooner:
anchored al round them, hard at work.“

The little fleet attracted universal notice from
the fact of its compact order and cncubooner
lifted her anchor and filled her soill .yfollow.
after them, at which Dorks frowned a , cursed
heartily, for he foresaw that the trawler had
got an inkling that he had discovered a fresh
ground, and was going to dog him there it

“B the livin Davy Jones.” said Dark.“ '
“ 1’]! had that tel ow a dance. Steer due east.

The-head of tbecolumn altered its course, and
the other schoonerl followed the Flash. and in
this manner the sailed on all day, till‘Darhc
estimated that t y must be due soutb'ofthc
ground to which he was bounds“ the Inn
was setting a second time at sea.

Then he discovered a dense bunk

'i i l
ahead of him. showing him that hob-slough: ‘ 

near the Gulf Stream, once mor : and into this
to be plunged, with his censor close Intern.
he worth captains were not troubled with
any complicit code of si null in Burke’s fleet. ,
Their orders were to “ f ow the Flash and do 1
just what she did.” '
They had one advantage in point of keeping
together. that they were all sitters, built on the
same lines, and going at near the same rate at

Tbc Flash was a little futonthan thereatund

had to has her stay-oil outlook to. leav-
ian them, t the rest followed so osothct-
0 er: could be passed down the up!) by,
speakingme - _’
Althothpanodintothc fog, Durham.
cdbackforthcstrlngcr. j

.—

/

l.'

l .

 

 

, .A.

16

I .

if The Fog Devil.

 

 

She was a good four miles off, heading
straight for them.

Into the f be sailed till he thought that he
was'invisible rom the open sea, when he alter-
ed his course to the north and went ofi? wing
and wing. followed b the six schooners.

Then he began to c uckle to himself and said
to Murphy:

“’I‘hut fellow won’t make much out of us I
reckon, Murphy." -

Murphy grinned.

“Notmuch, sir. But we can't hope to fool
him so easy. He’ll know we get out of sound-
ings in this direction.”

‘By the time he finds it out, we’ll be out of
his sight, Murphy. It’s not much I ask of for-
tune now; but one good trip I’ll have before
those lubbers find out the ground we know of."

Then he glanced back into the fog, and as he
did so he turned a shade paler and gave an
im erceptible shudder.

he Eva, the next schooner in the line, was
following close behind in the fog, her huge
sails spread out on either side like the wings of
a. bird, and her jib boom looked as if it was
coming right over the taflrail of the Flash,
while all the other schooners were following so
close behind that the danger of collision was
imminent.

"My God,” he muttered, “in the fog again
.and I’d forgotten all about it. It looks as if
she were coming right aboard us, and we might
run into some one else.”

Then he shouted back:

"Portvyour helms, all! You’re too close.
We shall run into each other at this rate."

“Ginny, cling, clung I]! "

The words were hardly out of his mouth
when he heard the sound of a ship’s bell close

» ahead, and the lookout shriekei:

‘ t “ Hard a starboard! Star—board HARD!”
In an instant all was confusion as the helm:-

lmaa obeyed, and the maiasail came swinging

round to jibe as the bow swept round, obedient

‘ t0 the helm.

~ the only coo head in the emergency.

1

r “Handsb the main sheet!” roared Pasi‘g,
‘ P
her, boys, if you don’t want to spring the
“3%” '1 clan, I clung r”
M .
~ The bell soumi’ed right over their heads as it
seemed, but nothinglcould be seen, though they
expected tohave t e bulk of a hu 9 square-
rigged sh come right down on their we, and
the night ad not yet fallen, though it darkened

. fast.

The other sohooner's had altered their-course

‘ - all in a bunch, and the Eva ran her jib-boom in-

; (mr'halyards.

L’

tome-main riggin of the Flash, breaking sew
oral lan ards an threatenin serious conse-
uences, or the other vessels ere being driven
‘ ownion the 'pair and the ship’s bell was still
clinging furiously overhead.
’ Darke jumped on the rail and roared:
“ Shencevfore and aft! Captain Terr, let go
As long as both schooners have
same way we’ll never get apart. Let

[I  halyards, I say! Drop fore and ma -

>'I'he Eva obeyed the order, and the wind

a‘ilckly separated the two vessels: but the ship’s

continued sounding louder than ever, and

the night was dro pin so fast that even Darke’s
nerves owned a sl ght remor.

1' " Starboard your helms, and steer due west !"

he shouted to the captains astern. “ We’ll be

' run ‘down' in this infernal fog if we stay here

Follow right after me."
Flash wore round and stood to the east—

“it.

a word out of the fog, the bell sounding more'and

; was not long before they steered clear of
‘ dense bank, and came out on the open ocean' in

more faintly; and as‘Darke had anticipatedéhit
e

the last rays of twilight, to see their hated
not half a mile off, heading directly for

iii

f . i
- bassoon as th made their appearance. the

tniwler hauled h 3 wind and steered strai ht to-
ward them, when Darke swore a grea oath

'amidashed into the fog once more in pitch

darkness.

“Don’t lightalam !” he roared to the Eva.
“Jth steer north, w ng and wing, for half an
hour, and then draw to the east again. I’ll
beat that snoozer astsrn, or my name’s not
“immune fog h ' t i c' to

nto t e wen 'agan, expec mg
hear the ship’s bell.y
' It was a terribly hazardous proceeding for
seven vemels to run into a dense mist, close to
each other, without any lights, trusting to luck,

‘ but Sa‘nson Darke was in that mood when he

pk:

VI;

.;7'

>9-  Baptistonandryf’

- feared nothing.

A Has,

Nothing was heard of the ship’s bell this time.
On the contrary an intense silence prevailed in
v the fog and the water had a peculiar oily
Wthness that made Darke say, half to him:

“ There’s ice here, yet, I’m afraid.”
“ Ah yes, capitainc,” said a voice close to
“and that is not all.” ~

Duke looked at the helmsman who was the
per-0n that e_: v V

“ Who the denl asked to put in your car

he‘ as roughly. “ What'

do you mean by not all!” '

 

Balpetiste nodded his head slowly.

‘- Diable du Brouillard is come again,
capitaine. You hear dat bell! It vas not rin
by mortal hand. Eh, mon Dieu, l vish ve he
not come on dis trip.”

" Look here, Baptiste,” said Darke, in a low
but menacin tone; “I’ve a word tosuy to you
and that is: eep your jaw-tackle belaycd about
this Fog Demon as you call him, or I ll stop it
for you. There’s enough infernal nonsense
among fishermen of our own race, without your
bringing in French devils to scare the men.”

Baptiste shrugged his shoulders, French
fashion, and replied quietly:

“Yes, capitaine.”

Darke turned away from him, and went for-
ward to con the vessel.

He found the hands gathered in a group on
the forecastle, murmurmg to each other in low
tones, and they stopped as soon as he came up
to them.

Darke was nettled and swore roundly at them,
declaring:

“This is my schooner and I’ve more at stake
than any of you and here you are muttering at
me. I tell you, fog or no fog, light or dark,
I’ll steer this course till I run into something,
01.515?” t l I w

mg 0 any, c any .

The bel that had already produced such a
weird effect on the minds of the sailors sounded
again, right between the masts of the Flash.

 

CHAPTER xxx.
THE INVISIBLE BELL.

THE clanging of the invisible bell was echoed
by alow groan from the sailors of the Flash
who looked apprehensively up into the sky, asi
they expected to see something falling on them.

Samson Darke, on the contrary, burst into a
torrent of oaths, and ordered the men to their

sts, while the Flash sailed on into the dark

0 .

E"l‘ls only the echo of a bell, maybe many
miles oil,” said Samson, “ and you tools are
afraid of nothing. Harki it lessens"

Indeed, the m sterions bell, after clanging vi-
olently for near y a minute, began to die awa
and recede into the fog toward the coast, as t
seemed to them, till Darke observed, trium-
phantly:

“There, I told ye so. Keep her full and go
below, ye superstitious fools. Have I sailed t e
seas for twenty are to be scared by a French
Fog Devil? Yan ee wits-can beat French devils
all the time.”

The men, reassured by his confident ways,
dispersed and went below, while Darke, not half
so easy as he pretended to be, held on his course
to the north a little while longer, and then
hailed his consorts and passed the word down
the line to change course to the west, and stand
out of the fog. I

He heard the shouts that showed his order
was bein obeyed, and the Flash laid her head
westwar once more and began to move through
the pitchy darkness. '

But after along stretch in this direction, the
fog seemed to become thicker and thicker. and
presently Darke was mused from a. fit'of ab-
straction by a voice sounding close to his ear:

“Ca tain Darke, for God s sake let’s get out
the lig ts and ring the bell. We’ve lost the

Eva.”

Lookinngound, Darke recognized the form of
his mate, urphy, and could tell from the tones
of the man‘s voice that he was nervously ex-
cited.

“ What do on fear, Murphy?” he asked.
“We are out 'the track of s ips now, and if
we sound bells, we only give that spy a chance
to come up with us.”

“ But we don’t know what minute we may
run into another vessel,” urged Murphy. “ The
Eva may be close astern, and one of our own

ople may run into us again. It’s tempting

rovidence. captain.”

Darke shrugged his shoulders.

“If Itake the risk of losing fifty thousand
dollars’ worth of vessels, surely you can do the
same, Murpb . I’ll not hang out a light till I
knew we’ve s aken 03 that spy that’s followed
us.

Murphy went slowly away, shakin his head,

and Darke continued at his post on t 8 heel of
the bowsprit, peering out- into the blackness
ahead.
The only exce tion to the general pitchy
gloom was seen a the bow, and in the wake of
the schooner. where ripples of gale-green fire
showed the hosphorescence of t e water.

Samson rke folded his arms and leaned
against the coil of cable, musing:

“We must be getting near t e place now,”
he thought. “I wonder what has really be-
come of Norwoodl He says he isin Cuba, on-

in some occupation that he cannot-re-
veal at present. That can only mean one thing.
He is in the Cuban rebellion, get-ha as a spy,
and if I inform the Spanish a tho ties, he Will

be in trouble. Maybe our fight’s not over, Ned
Norwood.” , v
Silence breaded over the use all round him,

and the fog seemed thicker than ever when he
suddenly saw, gleaming out of the mist ahead,

I

 

the faint light of a whim lantern up in the air,
and rlecognized the riding-light of an anchored
vesse .

“ Hard a-starboard ” he called back. “ Pass
the word hack to the va.”

.The Flash swept round on her heel just in
time, and he saw, loomingu in the fo against
the sk ,_ the spare of a. large rig, whic seemed
to be ying at anchor in the open sea, without a
rag of sail up.

he mist round her bad lifted from the water,
and hung round her tops, while her upper yards
were invisible.

The Flash skimmed silently by her, and in a
few minutes more, as Darke had foreseen would
be the case, glided into open water. to find that
the fog was moving slowly westward in the
track of the schooner; but that, as far as they
could see no sail was in si ht.

Darko looked back into t e fog, and in a very
few moments saw the long white nose of the
Eva poking out, within a few cablelengths
astea‘n. ” h d M

‘ here, 9 sai to u h , “now on see
that the bold course is thlepbzst. Our’i'iiends
have come through, and our spy has lost us.
Stand to the north again, sir, and skirt the

£0 .”

_ In fact it was not long before the whole of the
little squadron glided out of the fog, and fol-
lowed the Flash to the north, skirting the edge
of the mist for an hour or more, when Darko
sounded, and found himself in seventy-eight
fathoms of water, with the same bottom on
which he had had such wonderful luck on the
last trip.

He stood on for a little longer, and sounded
again. Seventy‘five fathom: was the record,
and the captain of the Flash ordered the an-
chors to be dropped.

Within twenty minutes of that time, the
sevon schooners were riding tranquil] on a.
gentl heaving swell, with two hundred athoms
ofca is out, their line extending for about a
mile, in a circuit round the coveted ground.

Hardly had they made themselves sun when

the fog came creeping over them a n, and
they were swallowed up in the darkness as
before.
. This time Darke made no objections to allow-
ing ridinglights to be hoisted, but he forbid the
bells to be sounded, and set an anchor watch, as
all-sufficient.

For himself, he had taken the bearings of all
his consorts before the fog covered them, and
marked them out on a piece of paper by the
light of the binnacle lamp, so that be had no
difilculty in finding them in a dory, steering by
compass.

He went round to every schooner, and left'
his orders to hang out riding-lights, but to sound
30 bells unless in imminent peril of being run

own.

He found them all wonderin as to the identity
of the mysterious brig they 1) passed at anchor
in the mist. '

One of the captains had cast the lead as he
passed the stranger, and found no bottom with
three hundred fathom: out, from which he was
led to wonder:

“How in Hades that cusl’ ted to stay
where he was, if it came on to b ow.”

“ She never noticed as when we seed her,”
said another skipper “ though I h led her, and
there didn’t seem to be no one aboard heron the
lookout.”

“Never mind who she was,” said Darke.
“She was no fishing-vessel, I reckon, and we’ve
nothing to do with any one else. Be read to
set trawls as soon as daymbreaks, and if" we
(worknhard, we’ll be going ms loaded in three

avs.

He returned to the Flash and found that more
than one of the crew were fishing with the hand-
lines over the side of the schooner, with a rope-
tition of their luck of last trip.

They had evidently struck the right ground,
and became so enthusiastic that they wanted to
get out dories at once and set trawls all night,
In slpite of the fog, so as to make the most of the
u . '

Darke vetoed this proposition as too liable to
cause confusion between rival crews; but as
soon as morning dawned and the saw the sun,
likea dim red bail in the sky, s recognized
that the fog Was getting thinner, and ordered
out the dories.
I All that morning the crews of the seven
schooners Were hard at work setting their
trawls and fishing with hand-lines, the catch
exceeding that on the former trip.

They felt convinced that they had chanced
ovor some submarine valley, a favorite reacrt of
the gigantic fiat-fish they were after, and all
hands were elated at their luck. After dinner
they hauled their traw‘ls. and found nearly
every book full, which, as each schooner had
setadoaen tubs of trawl, with an average of
fifteen hundred books per schooner, made a first
catch of nearly fifty thousand pounds to each
keel, with a prospect of making a full load in
less than two days.

The excitement was intense aboard the fish-
ing-fleet, and they blessed the fog which shut,

them in, for they dreaded above all things to. '

have their ground discovered and “ fished out,”
i



 

«v



  

“4.: 4

1.1-

fl

 

r i \ \

- The FogpeVil. ‘

'17

 

 

.as it was sure to be if the discovery was made
public to all.

They split their fish and threw them into the
ice-pens, and reset the trawls before they even
thought of dinner, and great was the jollity that
prevailed aboard the seven.

The. very men on the Flash who had been
growling at the captain the night before for

efying their superstitions and refusing to hoist

. lights, were now obsequious and cringing to

film, while Baptiste Landry told him with many
ws:

“ You vas rand man. capitaine. You vas
able to beat 6 Diable du Brouzllard, de Fog
Devil heemself. I steek by you.”

Samson curled his lip scornfully.

“ Ay, ay, fact: convince ye, do they. But
ye’ll be just as cowardly to—nlght, as soon as the
darkness comes with something ye can’t explain
at once. ” ,

The afternoon passed awe and evening
came, when the fo suddenly le tthem, under a
fresh cool breeze rom the west, and
the sun setting. with the white clouds rolling
away to the eastward.

They watched the mist depart expecting to
see discovered the mysterious brig of the night
before; but nothing of the sort was seen, and
they were beginnl to congratulate themselves
on bein alone, w on the lookout hailed the
quarter eck:

“ Sail hol"

“ Whereaway i” cried Darke excitedly.

“Broad of! to the south, sir,” cried Murdock
McClouri from the foretopmast-head. “ ’Tis
the trawler, at anchor, under riding-sail.”

The en tain leveled his glass toward the
south an discovered the little trian lar rag
of sail hoisted by every Banker when 5 6 comes
to anchor, so as to give her some command of
herself if she drags in heavv weather.

A deep curse escaped his lips, and he began
fimutter to himself muledictions on the traw-

He watched her carefully, in the faint hope
that. as his own schooners bad no ridiug‘sails
up, they mi ht be unseen. but a very short time
convinced im of his error. He saw the
_.achooner move slowly on as if she was hauling
up to her anchor, hoist foresail and Jib, and
come swee ing down toward them, close—hauled
under the ight air from the west.

As the sun disappe red the stranger came
into the midst of the fleet, and cast her anchor

‘ in the most matter-of-fact manner within a.
cablelength of the Flash, whom she hailed at
once.

“ What luck!” bellowed the strange skipwr.

“ None at all ” shouted back Darke. ‘ e’ve
not taken anythiu but dog-fish since we started
in here. What sc ooner’s that?"

" The EdnaPew,” roared his neighbor. “ I
guess we’ll have a try at the dog fish, Gas."

Down went the‘lines over the strange 5 side,
and Darke watched him with lowering face.

The men in the Darke fleet had stopped fishing
as soon as the stranger hove in sight, in the
faint hope that he might go elsewhere.

A few moments later, they saw the men of
the Edna haul in a. huge fish, and Burke’s face
altersi its expression.

Th fish was a day-fish.

“ By heavensl” be muttered, “ who’d have
thought it? We’re in luck, after all.”

But when a dozen lines_ came in, and every
one held a huge dog-fish. his countenance altered

again.
The catch showed that a regular shoal had
come

vanishes.

The dog-fish is nothing but a miniature shark,
with the same ugly shape, the same voracious
appetite; but when he comes. he comes in
swarms like locusts.

The dog fish had come with the Edna Pew,
and the greenest hand aboard the Flash knew
that their fishing was over.

Lookin down in the water they could see the
white ies gliding swiftly along and before
ion they were jumping all roun the vessel,
me with hun er, as hey alwaysare when they
come in such a oals. _

Darks shut up his glass gloomin and told the
men to go out and haul the trawls. _

“We ma save something, and the night’s a
clear one,” e remarked.

The wind had vanished with the sun; is dead
calm had come on. and the eight schooners lay

‘ swtayirLg to and fro on the swell, as the dories

n on ‘

p SuddenlyDarke started, and the sweat burst

out on his-forehead.

Right overhead in a clear sky. they could all
hear the invisible bell, tolling as if fora funeral,
far away. - i

“ Curse the belll Curse the ship that rings
itl Curse the Edna Pew and the luck!" hissed
the furious master, stamping his foot on the
deck. "The luck’s turned!” .

The exclamation was wrung out of him
millet his will as the recurrence of the mys-
teriouuouud shook his net-res sorely.

The bell kept on telling. and he heard the men
in the dories callingout to each other, as if in
alarm,,at something.

/
I

 

they saw ‘

in.
And when the dog-fish comes, every other fin ,

 

 

Then came a chorus of shrisks and cries in
the water, with the splashing of cars and shouts
of “ Help! Helpl"

Samson Darke jam (1 into the only dory left
in the Flash and. calling to Baptiste Landry to
follow, rowed of! to the scene of confusion to
find what was the matter.

He saw several dories together and heard
cries of horror; but the confusion was over'as
he rowed up.

“ What’s the matter!” he asked.

It was Jim Clancy who answered, in a way
that showed he was frightened to death.

“Oh, sir,” he said, “ there’s a curse on the
bell. Me brother Mike, sir—"

" What of him?” cried Darke, impatiently.

“He was standing up, sir, hauling a trawl,
whin he heard the bell, and it startled him so
he lost his balance. And he fell into the water,
sir, and—”

“ Well, what, what?"

Durkc was beginning to‘feel a creeping in his
flesh already at he knew not what.

“The do fish, sir," groaned Jim, as pale as a
corpse. “ efore we could get to him, the
tor» him limb fl ()lll limb before our very eyes. ’

The fisherman had hardly finished when some—
thing struck Darke's dory from beneath, and
sevoral of the hungry dog-fish leaped out of the
water and began to snap at the oars.

CHAPTER XX.
RESET BY noorrsn.

THOSE who dwell on land may smile at the
idea of Stalwart men being in danger from
fishes, the largest of which do not exceed twenty
pounds, but such men have never seen a shoal
of hungry dog-fish.

They are rare in deep water, being spawned
near the shore, and the huge shoals that give so
much trouble are composed of young fish that
have not yet scattered.

The cause of danger from them lies in their
enormous numbers; and the fact that they are
literally mad with hunger.

Not being swift enough to catch the smaller
fish that flee from them, they stick together in
immense shoals, and attack indiscriminately
eVerything that comes in their way. from a
whale to a lobster, sweeping the seas clean
wherever they come, keeping near the surface
of the water and rushing at everything they
see. to a log of wood! .

Boats, and especially the 0' rs, the bite at
ravenousl y, like their larger cousins t e sharks,
and hang round them fearlessly for hours, wait-
ing for scraps. .

As for booking them, one gets tired of that,
after hauling a trawl of a thousand books,
with a dogfish on every hook.

Before the fishermen of the fleet could get
back to the schooners, their dories were being
jostled against by thousands of the wild, hungry
demons of the sea, who made them tremble wit
the constant succession of shocks, and bit pieces
out of the can as they snapped at them.

They had toahandon the task of hauling in
their trawls, well kno ' that the halibut
would be destro ed long fore they reached
the surface of e water. and had to console
themselves with the reflection that. the shoal
probably would pass on, after a few hours.

But this reflection was not much of a comfort
after all, for they knew that the fish once driven
away, would not return for days, perhaps
weeks. . I

As far as the fishing was concerned, it was
ruined, and it was With a gloomy face that
Samson Darke said to Murphy:

“ The luck's turned."

“it’s all that cursed bell,” said Murphy; in
the same gloomy way. “ I knowed wed ave
no luck arter we heard it last night. The first
time it cost us Ned Norwood. as good a man as
ever trod a deck, and now Mike Clanc ’s been
eaten up afore our eyes. I tell ye, up, the
sooner we tri our anchors and get out of this
the better. e’ll have no more luck on this
ground."

“Perhaps not,” assented Samson. gloomily;
“but we can’t draw the tram-ls till morning.
It’s very strange about that ball. Some sh p
must be near us. I’ve heard of such things
before this. The sound comes to us as an echo
from a vessel in that fog. it never comes ex-
cent in a calm or a fog.”

Mill‘th shook his head.

"It’s a 1 very well to call it that, but no ship
never rung that bell. We’ve heard it more than
once, and every time we’ve had some misfortin.
Cap Darke, for the love of Heaven, trip the
anchor and make sail. I’d rather make half a
fare on the Banks. where I know what's coming,
than ,stay here, with that bell sounding in our
ears.’ o

“ Do as you will," answered Darke, in a tone
of sullen resignation. “Haul the trawls from
the deck if you like, if the men can find’em.
I’ll say no more. The ground’s ruined."

Murphy went awayknd the donor were got
out again to halt trawl-hue s in to the
schooner-s, so as not to excite the s oals of
fish lg bringing the hooks near the surface
with oirloada. ' , -

When this was at last accomplished. the task
began by lamplight from the decks of the

x
l

 

.. ‘ , ‘ l.
4' . 4? ,

. -:¢,,  e‘, M;  " "‘3‘"

succeeded a perfect blank.

deg-4. using m strong;

 

vessel, and a strange spectacle was presented as
the trawl: came in. .

The lights shone down into the water, reveal-
ing Its dark—green depths, fairl swarming with
the hungry demons 0 all sizes, mm the eleven or
twelve—inch baby, only a month old, to the three-
foot embodiment of pitiless rapacity, glaring
up, green-e ed, at the schooner.

They can d see the long lines of the trawls
coming up to the surface, and as each loaded
book came in sight, there was a rush of the
swarming dog fish to eat thennhappy halibut or
cod off the hook, so that it vanished in less than
five seconds.

in many cases the last dog-fish that bit at the
morscl remaining on the hook was caught him-‘
self and no sooner did his friends see he was
unable to resist than they flew at him with‘
charming impartiality, and tore him likewise to
pieces.

Samson Darke heard the bustle of drawing the
trawls, and came to look down. > ,
When he saw the hungry dog-fish he \shud-
dered slightly, but continued to as if fas-
anatded till the last hook was ban ed empty on.

ar . ‘

Then Murphy said:

“ Now, Cap, shall we haul short and tripl”

Darke hesitated. -

He looked around him at sea and sky. All
was in dead calm and quite clear, but over on "
Elbe feastern horizon still hung the low bank of “

e og. .

The riding~lights of his consorts lay in a circle »
round, and the trawler that had brought them,
so much had luck was apparently hard at‘wor ‘
her crew fishing with hand-lines by the light 0 V

lanterns.

“ They must have queer taste” 0th one of J
the men, referring to them. “ if t ey like dog- 1
fish, we wish them joy of it.” ' - , s

“ No,” said Samson Darke suddenly in an~
swer to Murphy’s question after cogitatin over
it for nearly a minute. “I‘ll not move the

wind comes. Let the hands-go b'elow, and set“
the anchor watch." " 7

He went to his cabin in sullen mood, and Il- “
lenoe reigned over the fleet. ‘

Samson Durke went to his cabin-windows,“
lighted a pipe and smoked stolidly away, look- .r '
ing down into the sea for nearly the space of ‘
an hour more. ' r ,

The men, wearied with their day’s work and g,
gloomy under its disagpoinu‘ng close, had fallen
asleep, and he was t e only man except the"?
anchor watch on deck; who he this 0 as open.‘-. ,

Samson was in a savage,  humor ;
that night. He had pla ed hi! toard, and"
it had failed with Alice orwood. v \ ,‘éf ';

She had fainted away at the altar, and  :
doctors had been called n, and pronounced her
go be sufiering from lncipieiit fever of the

re a.

Themarriagehad tobspotoa. audit was a",
grave question in Dan-he’s mind whether he 3
would ever marry Alice now. \ i ’ 3

  

That she loved Ned Norwood heknew; tba ,
they were married, he felt sure, from the evie 1
dance of the letter, but if Norwood ‘hld-wliihl 3
him the certificate of their marriage, soluothiug ' ‘
mirht be done yet. » -

 

Samson sat there athis cabin windows, amok» ‘

in and cogitatin
mores of the sleepers; but outside hung a lan~
tern, which sent a ray of light far down km the“:
“it???” i ' t a ' m "
on ng an ar ic ar e on toe.-
anything, Im‘ie gazed gown vaguely into the]
water. revolving schemes of disposing of
Norwood, in case he should comeback, when;
he became sensible that the dog-fish were rubs?
ing past the Vessel in a tremendous shoal, no.1
fast as they could go. ' “ '

toward the east and deep water. ;
“What’s up?” muttered he. “Thoylook u
if something was chalin them.” ‘ ‘4 1'
For nearly a minute dog-fish raced by. the. .
ghosts in the dark water, and then came scum, -‘
thin Samson had never seen before, though he:
had card of it, as every snilor has. ' h.
Into the midst of the close-racked shoal - den- '3
ed a long-snake-like head, as oug asapnnohson i"
with glarm eyes, wide jaws that snapped rig
and left, a in several fish at a
a lon , sarpen no body went wri
with mmense swiftness through the
right and left, devouring as it went. '
t passed in less than ten seconds, and

than];

The‘dog fish had cleared. a  track 
fore them, and the sea seemed emptyof 

while the sun-serpent had proved more voracioan {5

v
i

i
l

evan than the dog-fish. - v - l .1
Dark» looked thoughtfully down into the sea,-
muttering: . . ‘
“ _, a , yealleatenoh other,andtbo-weak
‘ M for the strongest. The law cruel
cannot be bro

and who shall blame 
7 By t5]: godo, I’ll do 

Nor look ouml . 
'He wantondeczdnd hematite-peer over the"
All round him the riding-lights of his censor

me
it.

lp, while,”
gag along"); V
on going,

9 cabin was 8dark and silent, save for 

\

He leaned over out of the cabin window, end a
could see them shooting post like meteors, going 2

  

l
l

l
I
l
e
l
l
V
.
l
l
g

i

   
 
  

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18

[The Eng Devil.

 

at anchor showed by their gentle swaying that

the calm continued while the moon, in her last
uarter, was just lifting her red horns over the
on in the east.

Away oil! in the southeast Darke saw a light
moving slowly over the surface of the sea. where
none had been an hour before. He hurried be-
low io get his glass, leveled it at the light, and
beheld the very brig that he had seen at anchor
in the fog moving slowly along, with naked
masts and yards, in a way that showed her to
be a steamer.

She was just coming out of the fog when he
first sighted the light, but almost instantly ex-
tinguished it on arriving at open water, and
glided silently on toward the seven anchored
schooners.

Darke leveled his glass to watch the brig more
closely, muttering:

“What does he want here?"

CHAPTER XXI.
- ran REY ALFONSO.

TE! strap brig was clearly a steamer of
some sort, t ough she did not appear to have
much power in her engines from the slow way in
which she moved.

Nevertheless she came straight toward the
anchored vessels, and Darke saw that she was
coming to pay them a visit.

He watched her slow progress till he could
distinguish the low cheering of her crew and
finally she came to a pause about a quarter of a
mile off, and he saw a boat putting out from her

e.

It pulled steadly toward the fleet, and he
could see that it was heavily manned, pulling
six oars of a side.

“ A man—cf-war,” he muttered, “ but what's a
man-of-war doing here? A irate! Pshawi
there are no such things nowa aye. Steam has
etc all that. I’ll hail the boat.”

e stepped to the quarter-rail and looked at
the aggroaching boat. There was no question
as to he a man-of~war boat from the pre-
cision of stro e which characterized it.

It was within a hundred feet of the Eve and
goin toward her when Darke hailed:

“ Jet ahoy; what d’ye want here?”

The boat ceased rowing at a word in some

age and swapt round toward him
influence of the rudder till he was
near the ash.

Then he saw that it had several marines in
the stern with muskets and that the crew were
mad, while an officer sat in the stern-sheets.

The men madeafew more strokes and the
heat glided alongside when the odlcer stood up
and said in slow tone:

" You de capitani"

‘v‘Ay, ay, l’m captain," said Darke.

“ I come aborda. l vant spika vid you," said
the officer, and so saying the boat was laid
alongside of the Flash and a tall, handsome
young man in a gorgeous uniform came a .

He looked round the decks of the Flash with
much satisfaction and said:

"All slee . Var goot. I vsntseeyou, not
dam. ,Vat is shes i”

“ Schooner Flas , of Gloucester, trawler,”
hid Derke grimly. “ Who are you and what’s
that brig out yonder?”

The Spanish oflcer drew himself up with
some pride as he answered:

“I am Don Juan Tissada, ieniente of do gun-
hoat Re Alfonso. Ve send ’ere to stay and
protect eSpanish commerce. My frien, you
secor ’ear of steamer round ’ere, dey call de
Liberade

, “The Libel-odor!” echoed Samson. “What,
a are, my frien’. Ve’ ’ave information

at: gm looking for heri”
dat she come to do Banks two week ago and
have take and sink t’ree Spanish sheep.”

Dark. was surprised and delighted at the

news.

Hohad gathered from Mike Clancy the fact
that his ca tors on the last voyage were Span-
iards and t t the men had the word Liberador
on their hats, and he jumped to the conclusion
that she must be the missing Cuban cruiser.

“Well,”he said slowly, “i can’t say we’ve
seen her this ,trip, but we did last trip, on this

very ground.
The Spanish oficer seemed to be delighted, for
, helaidhkhand on Darke’s sleeve and said in
the most coaxing manner:

“My dear sure, my dear frienda. dat is do
basic news we ’ave ’earda yet. Tell me all
about it. ’Ave a cigarrita. {ta me.”

He produced a case of real fragrant Havana
cigars and cites-ed one to Darke adding:

‘My dear sare, you belong to von greats na-

. tiou dat is at genes viz Spain. You vill not tell
anyt’ing to s ield dat pirata, dat sheep ac-

‘ ltd—ah carambol I do hate de

 

rebel and pic-eta. You s’all tell me all ’bout'

ha!”
flaming." replied Darke, readily; “I’ve
new of jection. But how long ve you
been on'this station, lieutenant!”
Don Juan considered a moment.
“Five do ,” he answered. “Our consul send
dcinforma ondatdepimta ‘aveleavedecitycf

Mqukaandvcccmeoutassoonm ve got
don/owe." ,

 

“Well,” replied Darke, “it’s not very much I
know, but such as it is you’re welcome to it.
Three weeks ago I was on this ground, which
was all covered with ice, floating down with
every ebb tide. One night there was a very
heavy fog, and we were nearly caught in the
flora and bergs. We had to trip the anchor and
make sail. Just before we tripped we heard a
gun of a vessel in distress and a ship’s bell
ring hard. Next day we went to look for two
of our men 10st in the fog. We picked up one
but found the other had deserted to a vesse
whose men had the word Liberador on their
caps.”

Don Juan rubbed his hands.

“Dat is goot, vsr’ goot, sure, ver’ goot. But
do you know vat has become of heri"

“ I can’t say.” returned Darke slowly; “ but 1
have a very strong suspicion that I know where
her crew are now.”

“Vere, Vere?”

“In Havana,” said Darke quietly.

Don Juan started, and then said:

“Oh, sure, sare, dis can not fair as a member
of do great nation to us. Havana! It is not
posseeble. Dere is no rebel in Havana. Vat
make you t’ink so!”

He seemed to think Samson was laughing at
him, and yet uncertain what to believe.

Darke laid his hand on the Spaniards arm and
said to him in Spanish:

“ Come over to the other side of the deck out
of earshot of your crew. My lookout only talks
English.”

Don Juan complied instantly, saying in a
tone of great gratification:

Where did you

“And you talk Spanish?
learn it?”

“In Cuba. I used to be in the fruit trade
once," answered Darke; and then he led the
way to the bow, sayin to Malcolm McCloud,
who was on the watch t ere:

“ Go aft. I’ve something to say to this oflicer
and want no listeners.”

Malcolm obeyed and Darke continued to the
Spanish lieutenant:

“ Can you tell me what steamer left Havana
for New York on the 27th of A rilf"

“ The 27th—let me see—yes, t was the Moro
Castle, I’m sure."

“ She brought a letter from the man in my
crew who deserted to the Liberador ten days
before.”

“ Are you sure?”

Don Juan seemed much excited at the news.

“ I am sure. I saw the letter.”

“Where is it now?”

“ It is burned.”

" That is very unfortunate. senor.”

“ B] it is, but it cannot be helped.”

” Was the letter to you, capitani”

"No; it was to a lady—to—to my wife in
fact.”

Don Juan looked at Darkc narrowly and said
in a tone of conviction: I

“ Go on, senor' I see now that you are’telling
me the truth. his man, can you give me any
description of his person!”

“ I can, in full. Why do you wish itf”

“ We are not certain of the identity of any
of the Liberador‘s crew save one, the com-
mander, Saluda. He is too well known to ven-
ture into Havana. But if this man of yours is
there, he would of course he safe as a stranger.
He might be made useful as a spy.”

“Precisely my idea, Don Juan, and there-
fore I hope to see him punished at once, for a
spy is my abhorrence.”

‘lee me his description. then, if you please,
senor oapitan, and I will see to it that he is
stop from further mischief.”

“ e is a gang man of twenty-four, wi
brown eyes, it and heard, which latter 0
wears out in the English style. It is very stron
torso yonnga man. He stands six feet big
and is powerfully built. nearly a hundred and
eighty pounds in weight. He is a college grad-
uate and talks French well, but no Spanish, as
has} know, and his name is Edward Nor-
w .

The Spaniard listened attentively and made
Darke repeat'the description twice.

Then he said with an air of satisfaction:

“ If this Norwood be in Havana, he shall
he in prison within twenty- four hours.”

“ Twenty-four hoursl" echoed Darke. “ How
can you do that?”

“We have a cable to Havana, senor. Tell
me. have you any other news to give me?”

Darke considered a little and the thou ht
struck him to interce t the letter which ed
had romised to write udge Mason.

“ ow mun steamers come from Havana,
everv week?" e asked.

“ ’I‘wo, senor.”

“ In the letter which Norwood wrote, he said
that he was en in an new tion that he
could not at isclose, but that would soon
write a u. If he does so can his letters he
found or not? The is to whom he writes
know no one in Havana uthim.” ‘

Don J nan smiled patronizingly.

“ Senor, you do not know our powers over
the mails. Wears not like your American
masters, afraid of the people. Give me the

namcs'of thopersonstowhom'thieman is likely,

 

to write and not a letter shall reach them.
Every one will he opened. Let me see. You
say he wrote by the Moro Castle. The next
steamer is'the Reina Cattolica. She is due in
New York the day after tomorrow. I can stop
her. Give me the names."

Darrke felt himself trembling with excite-
men ..

“The names of the persons he is likely to
write to are Judge Orvdle Mason, Miss Alice
Mason, and Mrs. Alice Norwood, Gloucester,
Massachusetts. His letters may contain words
of confidence. It you find any—-”

“ We shall know how to use them, senor. I am
obliged to you for your information. If We do
not catch the Liberador at least we shall catch
one of her spies.”

“ I am afraid you’ll never catch the Liberador,
senor,” said Darke.

"' Why not, senor?”

” Because from what I saw I am inclined to
think she was nipped in the ice when we so
nearly went down ourselves. I did not tellyou
that the man who rejoined us was chased over
the ice by a boat’s crew of these people but that
nothing was in sight but a steam launch.”

“A steam launch. That is singular. The
could do no demo 6 in a steam launch; but
hear they have ta en three Spanish traders
already. At least, they are missing and over-
due many days."

“ Then it is as I sue cted,” said Darke. “This
vessel hasaconsort singing round here. Tell
me, senor, have you not been puzzled lately by
a bell, ringing at intervals?” ‘

Don Juan looked at him curiously.

“ Have you too heard that hell?" he asked.

“ Yes, senor. It has been the cause of much
silly su rstition on the art of my men, but I
have to t confident that t came from some ship
3118.?th a good reason for keeping hidden in

e og. ,

Don Juan nodded.

“You’re right, senor. We hunted for it on
more than one occasion, but I am satisfied that
it is useless. WhoeVer rings that hell, does not
intend to be caught. Farewell, senor. I hope
tosee you again some day. I wish on good
luck at our fishing. Your name and, address,
if you p case. We may wish to hold some fur-
ther communication with you.”

Darke gave them, and Lieutenant Tissada
steupped into his boat and was rowed away.

be whole coll uy had taken place so quietly
that none had we enod aboard the Flash.

Darke watched the boat row to the brig, saw
it taken aboard, and very soon saw the steamer
move away to the westward, while the smoke

coming from her low funnel, showed that she

was getting up the steam in earnest.

Then he went below, and turned in to sleep
with a sense of satisfaction that soothed him
wonderfully.

This time he was sure he had trapped Ned
Norwood for good.

CHAPTER XXII.
run (ICE anacox.

Nn'r morning, when the sun rose, the fog
came rolling in again toward the fleet of am
chored schooners, while a light' breeze set in
from the west.

The seven lifted their anchors with the first
streaks of dawn and stood ofl' into the fog, fol-
lowin the Flash, for Samson Darke had re-
solve to try still deeper water.

The Edna Pew lay where she had anchored
the evening before, as if determined to try her
luck where she was, suspecting a trick from her
givals, and Darke's squadron soon lost sight of

er.

Nothing but the confidence felt h the sailors
in the ability of Samson prevents them from
open murmuring, for they had been much im-
pressed by the mysterious bell and the disasters
that seemed to follow wheneverit was heard.

Malcolm McCloud had spread the later of
the secret conference with the S anish 0 car
in the night, and the fact of its be ng oond noted
in a foreign language made it additional]
mysterious, hou h none know its urport. t
was supposed to ave some connect on with the
invisible bell, and when Samson of into
the fog it was whispered that he was going to
search for the ringers. One after anot er, the
seven schooners rushed into the fog, and stood
fin to the east, going wing and wing, for several

ours.

The mist was just thin eno h to see a vessel
from stem to stem and catch he outline of an-
other if not more than a hundred feet away,

 

and the seven followed so close that they never ,

lost hail of each other.

As they went, Darke passed
frequently, and discovered that the water re-
mained at sevont -flve fathoms for a long time.

,Then it shoal very rapidl , till thirty were
reached' at which it re'mai for about a mile
when it began to deepen once more!

They be passed over one submarine valley
to its encircling hill or bank, and had entered
another of unknown depth. The lead, as they
advanced. kept on flying indications of in-
creased gotcndity, it reached a hundred
and live i where itremalned stationary,
iwith a muddy tom. “ -

orders to sound I

 

 

The Fog Devil.

19

 

 

As soon as this stage was reached the captain
of the Flash ordered the anchors cast and hand-
lines baited and dropped. Such a thing as
anchoring in abundred and live falhoms had
never been heard of even among the Gloucester
trnw'lers, but they obeyed orders and cast in
their lines at the order.

No sooner had they touched bottom than the
fish began to pull in a way that showed they
had reached another good ground.

And when they began to haul in, Dirke’s
policy approved itself; for it was evident that
tbfidecper water allorded larger fish.

slibuts weighing from two to three hundred
pounds were coming u every moment, and
when they set their trsw sit soon appeared that
the next cast would fill the vessel to the gun-
wales.

All day long they worked, till the mist began
to darken round them, when Dnrke said to
Murphy:

“Now, mv lad, ye see that the man who
fights luck like a man, wins in the end. We’re
loaded up. and the men who came out with us,
will take in a couple of hundred for a. week’s

fishing. What d’ye so. to Darke’s luck?”
Muerphy seemed to convinced for he an-
sWer ;

“You’re a. wonderful man, Cap, wonderful.
I'll never grumble again, and I don’t believe the
boys will, unless they hear that bell again.”

‘ And suppose they do!” retorted Samson
testily; “ suppose they do. Won’t you all know
it’s a vessel in the fog? That’s common
enough."

Murphy looked uneasily round.

“Vessels in the fog don‘t ring bells up in the
air, Cap, and the men won‘t believe it s a real
ship’s boll.” .

‘ What do they think it is then?"

Murphy lowered his voice mysteriously.

“ They think it’s a warning.’

“ A warnin to what?”

“To leavet e lace.”

“ And why, w y?"

“Well, ye sec, Cup the boys are used to
Gear 9’s and the Grand Bank; they’re used to
the s are fishery and the Bank fishery; but
they’re used to havin plenty other folks near
’em, and they say’ u n natural to come out
here, where no man’s ever been before, to
fish "in a hundred fathoms water. It skcers
em.

Darke gave a short. scornful laugh.

“ Scares them, indeed! They’re great sailors.
I’ve been all over the world and never saw the
place that me. Well tell’em to fit up
the anchors and make for home now. e’ve
done enough, and I don’t want another night’s
nonsense over their superstition, because it’s
dark and foggy.”

Murphy turned away to roar:

' “All hands up anchor and make sail! Pass
the word. All hands up anchor and make sail,
all down the line!"

Instantly earns a cheer from every schooner
in the little fleet, which shOWed how welcome
was the order, and the windlasses began toclank
tonnd fro as the anchors came up, while the
creaking olfe‘pulley-blocks showed how fast the
, calls were ng hoisted.

It was still light enough to distinguish faintly
the outlines of t e nearest schooners, and Darka
was pacing the deck in his restless way, fretting
at the slowness with which the long cables-came
in, when once more they heard the clangor of
the invi~ible ball, up in the air, and a. groan of
«superstitious terror broke from the crew of
every vessel in the fleet.

Dorks ground his teeth and cursed roundly.

Stick to your work, ye superstitious idiots,”
he roared. “ The'bell hasn‘t prevented us from
gettinga full fare in two days, and it won't
prevent us from getting home again.”

'His voice, werful as it was, was hardl
heard for the and clan ing of the invisible be ,
which died away as so den! and causelessly as
it had begun with the fall 0 night, which now
became complete.

The angry Duke roared out as soon as the
boil stopped: ~

“Ma esail and stand for home. I defy the
(fievil”nnd all bisim'ps to cheat us out of our

are.

As if the challenge had been heard, the bell
clunged again, and continued without cessation
for a good flvo minutes, during which time the
sailors worked madly at tho Windlasses, and a
panic fell on all the vessels of the fleet, in
pinch Dnrke was the only person that failed to

cm.

Ho mined and swore violently, caught hold of
a hand spike, and raged round among the men,
making them cease work; while from the other
schooners one might hear the shouts of the ex-
cited captains: ‘

“ Hoist away on the hulynrds there! Give her
all she’ll stand!"

“ Get up that size all!”

“ Go aloft, two yo, and set the topsoilsl”

“Jib bulynrds! Haul awaly!”

And all the while the‘bel clanged overhead.
and the blocks crooked, canvas flopped and
mm grossed, while one after another the
swift schooners rushed ' past, the Flash into the
m, in such duper-sh bum and confusion that

Vi?"

 

more than one came in collision, and one might
hear the snapping of jib-booms, and the shouts
of excited men.

“ Port your helm!"

“ Hard iii—starboard!”

“Kl-e her away!"

“Lu ! curse you, luff!"

And in a few minutes more the voices had re—
ceded into the fog and darkness, when the bell
gradually ceased, and a. deep, intense silence
fell over the Flash, left all alone at her an-
chor.

Then Darke calmed down a little, and said to
Mur by:

“ s the anchor ntrip yeti”

“Ay, sy, sir!" res ended the mate tremo—
lously. “ I reckon s o’s half-way up to the
30p, gig, only we stopped heaving when you or-

erc .

“ Right. Of course I ordered it. D’ye s‘ e-

I‘m going to let a ck of cowardly lub xrs
take my ship out o my hands. Now, get to
work once more and cat the anchor. Then
make sail.” ' -

The sailors went at their work again with a
slow deliberation, in marked contrast to their
previous nervous haste, and Darke walked up
and down the deck, dropping a word here an
there in a milder tone, till the anchor was cut-
ted and the Flash moving of! under her fore
an mainsails, with a single jib.

The wind was still blowing from the west,
and Murphy was giv'm the orders to ban! the
sheets in close, and 3 nd to the southwest,
when Darke woke up from sbrown study, to
say:

“ No, no, never mind. Slacken out the sheets,
set topsails and steer southeast.”

“ Southeast!" echood Murplhy amazed.

“Southeast, I said,” was t 0 {Sign response.

Murphy touched his hat and d no more, as
the Flash laid her head toward the open Atlan-
tic ocean, and began to move through the fog,
leaving a fiery trail behind her.

Presently Darke called out, as he saw a. li ht
in the cabin, where Murphy was lighting he
lanterns:

“ Put those lights out there. I ’1» running
this schooner now.” .

Murphy let the match go out with a sigh, and
camh {:1 on deck to peer into the black darlmess
a on .

0n the stormith night at sea one can watch
the forms of the waves by their own light, and
distinguish land from water but in a. fog on the
Banks, where there is but little breeze, and the
water is always smooth, the mist seems to be
impenetrable. The bri latest electric light can-
not pierce it for a. bun red feet, save to diffuse
some faint glow, and the sun becomes quite in-
visible in the daytime.

At night it seems as if the ship were hung in
the midst of a black abyss, where it is impossi-
ble to distinguish between water and air, and
every is taken in doubt. v

Yet in this blackness the Flash was now
fearlessly)gliding, at four or five knots an hour,
Samson arke standing on the heel of the how-
sprit, watching: .

0n they went for nearly an hour in this way
when the giant captain uttered a deep sigh o
satisfaction. and said aloud: . '_

“Now sound your bell again, and see if it
scares me, whoever ye are.”

But no answer came out of the fog, and in a
few minutes more be called out:

“ Hard ales, there! Trim in your sheets.
Loy horas close as she’ll go, and steer south-
west by west, if you can.” -

The orders were obeyed with an alacrity that
showed how welcome they were, and the Fl:
swept round and laid her head once more to-
ward home, as could be told from the swinging
of the booms over the deck, though directions
seemed all alike in the vague obscurity.

On the soiled, silently as ever, t l Darke,
who still opt his position on the basic! the bow-
sprit, roared out of a sudden:

“ Starboard, hardl, Let go the sheets!"

The men rushed to obey the order, with their
hearts boating violently, and, as the schooner
fell oil before the wind, saw a light high upniln
the fog, which seemed to belong to a vessel, t
bad no bull apparently attached to it.

It cost them some trouble and time to at the
schooner round ~and near the li ht a n,nnd
when they did, they were sum and orrified

by the sound of the sea washing on rocks, and
reverberating as if th rough caverns on shore.

Instant) th arose:
y eerie ’Wmiccl”

“ Icebergs! Ice r si
The crew seemed a tit to fall into a panic
again, but Samson’s voice restrained them, and
they kept at their posts in silence, while high up
in the fog, awn y over their heads, gleamed that
mysterious light. With the night glass Samson
could distin ish something vague and white all
round the gilt, and began to realise what if
was. i
The light had beenrplocedon the topof an
iceberg by some human hand.
Who had done it! ‘ ,
1F£°‘“i.§2§.¥;’"“.l'°“ld “humus
c m on an n are
midst of the Atlantic 839an
For an inches: it was near them, beyond a
l

/

. which see

sb\ likes. I defy him and

 

doubt; and how many more noonc could tell
for certain.

They could hear the surf sounding in the
caverns of the ice, and washing up against
the mighty cliifs, while the coldness condensed
the fog in the immediate vicinity, so thnt Ihey
could dimly see the spectral outlines of a lofty
white mass, beside which the Flash looked like
a toy-boat.

Only for a moment, and then the schooner, '
under the influence of her sails, begun to draw
away from the dangerous vicinity, going due
north. till the light disappeared. .

Even Samson Dorks was not devoid of fear
now, and he had good reason too to dread the
dangers before him.

But for that light, laced there, no one knew
how, he would have ushed on the iceberg and
gone to the bottom in a moment.

When the light disappeared, he heaved a sigh
of thankfulness, muttering:

“ That was a narrow escape.”

Murphy came up to him a moment later.

“ Captain,” he said respectfullly, “ the men
say we‘d better shorten sail. here may be
more ice round, and it’s sure to be bergs at this
time of year.”

“I say go on and if we meet a berg it's
time to gctouto the way,” returned Dorks in a
sullen way. “Some one else is in this fog, be-
sides us.” .

Murphy shuddersd.

“ You’re right, captain. Some one else is
here, but I‘m not over-anxious to make his ac-
quaintance."

scurried mar .. .

‘ at re cugetugsupers ton-tool
Who do you thing’s in the fog than!"

Murphy shook his head.

“ I’m sure I don’t know
natural to see a light on the
and to hour bells ringinigu in the air with no
hands to ring them. a yr so it isDavy
Jones, and that he’s warning use! is preserves
of fish but I don't—"

" Clonal clung! clung! Chum! CLANG!!!”

Murphy started violently and trembled all
over as be wh :

“Eh I: G , captain, there itissgnin.”

The r his bell was soundin again, as it had
sounded before, right over air must-beads.
echoing back and forth in the fog for several
minutes, and then dying own in the distance.
with the name up rent lack 0 cause as before. .
The men of the ab, hardened old sinners“
most of them were, began to fall on their knees,
while Baptiste and Marie were already
repeating a Pater-nontox- u fun as they could
mills it, and all bands Were trembling so that

‘ £3341“) caption the bclmsmnu: I bber

‘ ' our em on superstitious u ,
and keep iii. sails mil};

But the invisible bell ceased at lost, as it bad
all along, andtbe Flush miledontbrough themlst
witbout further adventures, for nearly an hour,
when Mus-£3? suddenly cried:

“ Light Starboard bow, sir.”

They looked, and saw a li ht throung fog.

mod to be ng thinner before
them. A few moments later tbey come into
clear water and starligh to behold the very
trawler that had followed , 1 ing at anchor
on their old ground, with her rklingdigbt up.
Every one breathed freer when they t out of
the} ; the men left their prayers on went to
their uties, and Duke observed in a sarcastic

we to Murphy:

‘yWell ,you see this Fog Demon, of whom you
all prom so much, does not know how to trap a
Yankee. Let him rin hbglfu'rlod boll all be

As if in answer to the définnos the bell ~
sounded again, but this time it seemed to be far-

iu .but it‘s not
of an iceberg,

away up in the sky,und quits faint, though it .

reserved the same peculiarity of always sound»
ngns if coming from aloft. '

ut out in the open sea the superstitan of the

sailors were not so potent as in the fog, and the

calm distance of the bell served to render it ,

ess terrifying.

 

\

Samson Darke ran down to the trnwlu- and ‘ '

hailed her:
“ Edna Pew, nhoyl"
“ Hilloai” came back the bail. .
“Do on hear that ball?" cried Samson, as
the Fins passed close to tho anchored schooner.
“ Wy, ay,” answered the master. indiflerently.
“ but do you make of it?” asked Barks, so
that his men could hear him. .
“What do I make of itr’mhced the Edna’s
ski per, a little scornfully. “ Why it’s a ship‘s 
ml, in course. What in Hadesdyou make of

“ Just the some," said Samson. “ Any luck!”

The ski r of the Edna cursed violcnilv.

“ Wish ’6 never rec’d the place. . Nothin’
but the cussed do -fish estsrdny, and not a bite
to-dny till sunse ey’rc beginuiu’ to run
again. Had any luck, on!”

“ Ay, sy ” return Duke, indiflerently.
“ We’re f to the dock with fresh halibut.
Good-by, and good luck to ye,”

And the Flash soiled away on \ber course. rs-
;oicing. while the sailors droppzd their fears the

number the i: own from fog.

All Soy on, and and day tbs

\,

\

 

‘2

w

'20

[The Fog Devil.

 

wind got round to the southeast, while the
Flash, with every stitch of canvas set, neared
Gloucester.

When she ran into the harbor at last, five of
her six consorts were there at anchor. and the
sixth was beating in, with a fished jib-boom,
that gave evidence of the collision in the fog.

“ I’ve beat the devil this time," quoth Darke,
as he stepped on the wharf, “and now for Alice
once more.”

CHAPTER XXIII.
IHIDORA.

WITHIN the tropics, where perpetual summer
reigns, lies the “ever faithful isle " of Cuba, as
the Spaniards called it, till the ten-years’ rebel-
lion broke out.

A young mandrensed in the cool white suit
which marks a Well~toe do person in the tropics,
and whose light hair and blue eyes showed him
to be a foreigner.‘ stood at the north window of
a handsome villa in the outskirts of the city of

.Havana, looking out to son.

The building stood on an eminence, with

orange groves all round it, and was built in the

airy style suitable to the climate, with cool

'Verandas up to the roof, in story on story. and
«open windows so that the breeds might blow

through every part of the home.

The young man was Edward Norwood. and
he had been writing at a table from which he
had riaen..-when a sweet voice at the door of the
room said: _

“ Senor Eduardo, can I come in?”

There was a. S nish accent in the words,
and'the tone had soft, rich depth charac-
teristic of Southern voices, and - Norwood,

mitt “'md‘

“ y certainly Dona Isidore.”

Then a young lady entered the room whose
dark beauty was so intensely southern that no
one could have taken her for anything but
what she was—a Cuban. ’

She entered rather timidly, saying:

" I ’opeI do not disturb you.”

“You never disturb me, Dona Isidore,” he
answered gratefully» “ You are the only per-
:eon here who is en ely kind to me." ,

“ Dat is because on are alone," said she,
coloring slightly. “ der Anselmo tell me dat

we must pity de prisoner and captive, and
flat dem.”

 as he “legend:

‘ es,n . amaca ve,thoughnoone
would know it. Your brother knew what;he
was about when be bound me to stay here by

dora's face’darkened slightly as she re-

‘ mympromise. I cannot break it if I would.”
tot-ted

“And you neednotwish to. Is not our cause
‘de cause‘of liberty?” ‘

“I hope so,”sa d Ned a little sadly; “but I
know that this occupation of mine is one of
which I havecause to be :and, had I
known the service required of me, I would
never have consented. . But never mind that.
I‘m in the beat now, and must now form life.
zigzrhave something to tell me, senorito. hat

Isidore looked asif unwilling to speak at first,
.and answered slowly: ,.

"Inot know, Don Eduardo, if I should tell

youhor not. We have news of you from Amer-
. ecu. ‘

4

Norwood started and his face lightedrup.
“Newslof mel ‘Whatis it!” ,
She watched him narrowly as she answered

his qifiery:

“ on but told me of dat young ladee in your
condim—
orwood's color left his face. '

“Alice. Do you mean her? Hes anything
happened whorl 0h,seuorita you don’t know
the tie that unites us two. Tell me quickly.

'Do not keep me in suspense.”

Isidore seemed rather to enjoy thesurpense to
which he referred, for she was deliberate and
rather evasive iu herreply:

“ You t’ick ver’ moch of dat ladeel”

"Much of her?"

Ned was about to speak warmly when the
look of his oognpenlon’s face attracted his atten-
tion, a seal-clung, suspicious glance of decidedly
hostile import, and it flashed over his mind that
i8 insight be unwise tosay too much to the young

uam ’

He was not a vain man, but it lied not as
coped his observation that Isidore de Saluda
was very often in his company on the retext

of. practicing English. and that she loo ed on
him With more favor than on the dark young
men that formed the larger part of her visitors.

The Salads household occupied a very pecu-
liar position in Have one by no means on:
common in the history 0 any civil war.

The father, Don J oee Salado, was a bitter and
uncompromisin member of the Spanish Party,
commandant o a regiment of the ferocious and
ill-disciplined volunteers, and high in favor
with the Captain-General of Cuba, while his

_ son, Don Juan. had, at an early period of the

rebellion left his bogus out): ass-sped to the ip-
aurgen camp deacrng opaliah. v.1n
which he was an oflicer. and becoming whaz'the
Spaniards call a “ pirate." under a commission
from the " Cpban Republic," as it styled itself.

.
V

a H
r ..’

 

Be it was who had picked up Norwood on the
ice, and compelled him to go with him; and be
it was who had sent him to Havana, where he
was now apparentl a guest, but really a priso
ouer, in the Sale a mansion, under the very
nose of the commandant of volunteers, who
treated him as a friend, and imagined him to be
an ardent supporter of the government.

This matter had been arranged in a way not
uncommon in our own civil war, and in any
contest where opinions are divided as to the
ri ht and wrong of a given question.

he Cuban insurgents had many friends in
the United States, amon others a rich man
who owned a yacht, an who had been the
means of smuggling the Liberador out of New
York as a peaceable coaster.

This gentleman, whose connection with the
rebels was not suspected, had taken a cruise in
his yacht on purpose to look after the Libera-
dor, by plrevious appointment, and had been
met, in t e agreed latitude and longitude, by
the unhappy remnants of her crew in the steam
launch, with Ned on board.

Then had been arranged a scheme between
young Salads. and the darin and inventive
American, which resulted in ed being taken
on board the yacht, while the little steam
launch, supplied with a large stock of provi-
sions and coal, departed in the direction of the
Banks of Newfoundland, while the yacht sailed
for Havana. .

Arrived at Havana, Ned had been boldly in-
troduced to Dob Jose by the American, as a cor-
respondent of a great New York daily paper,
an installed in the Saluda mansion. This was

.the more easy because the American owned

three-quarters of the stock of the paper in ques-
tion, and had the power of appointing corres-
pondents, while his wealth made him a favorite
with every one in Havana.

Ned's instructions were to learn Spanish as
fast as he‘could, obsarve everything in the
nature of military or naval preparations. and
telegraph the same to New York in the form of
quotations of the market, which he was sup-
posed to report daily for the New York Growler.

At a roper time of which he was to he noti-
fied by e same system of signals,xhe was to
try and leave Havana and make his way
through the Spanish lines to the Cuban insure

nt amp.

Three months had passed away since he came
to Havana, and everything had gone well. He
had acquired enough familiarity with Spanish
to converse easil , and spent his time in the
streets, a ntly piclrin up points on the
fruit mar at, real yobserv every movement
of the Spaniards, and the arrival of every ship
load of troops. I

Don Jose who had several large orange plan-

tations. was charmed with the rapidity with
which his guest picked up the Spanish tongue
antiecparticulars of the market, and frequently
aid him in sending his dispatches. .
If a regiment of soldiers arrived from Spain,
Ned telegraphed to New York that so many
cases of oranges had been sent per steamer,
consigned toe-nob a firm in the city, and in
order to avert suspicion invariably bought and
dis bed the number he mentioned.

f an expedition was bein planned against
the insurgents, he would sen word» that such
and such a grade of cigars was advancing in
price, and thus. by means of a secret code, set-
tled on in advance, sent news of every move
that was made in Havana to the Cuban Junta
in New York city, so that all the Spanish plans
gakteg’out, and no one could tell who wasthe

a: . v

At first the excitement and mental activity
of this life pleased him; but the time came
when he began to be not weary but ashamed of
it, when he realized that his news was made the
basis of merciless massacres of troops, that he
had caused to be led into surprises.

He soon discovered also that the Saluda
mansion was rent into two factions. the old
don a bigoted Spaniard, his daughter, Isidore,
a fanatical revolutionist.

The old don never allowed his son‘s name to be
mentioned in the house. while Isidore. never
missed an portunity of speaking of Juan to
Norwood w on the were alone, and he soon
found that she was nlly identified with the in-
surgents in opinion. and a willing and active
spy in places where he could not go himself.

twas this similarity of o inion that drew
them so much together, and ed had allowed
the intimacy to progress without suspecting
whither it must tend, till he Was roused to a
sense of the danger by Isidora‘s question:

f‘ You t’ink ver’ moch of dat ladee?"

"Yes," he answered, when she repeated the
question. “She is my countr woman, you
know and we were children tog r."

Isidore. sighed deeply.

“ Ah, es, dot is true. And on must he ver’
fond of er Don Eduardo. er’ fond, indeed.
She is fair,  e you?"

“ Y " answered Ned shortly.

Then remembered he in e.

Rant you say. you have news 0 herl, What

Isidore returned to her his. 4
“ You love her ver’ m l'.’

is

8.

Ned compressed his lips.

“ Well, suppose I do.

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

“ It is no import. I but heard of her from a
fri’nd of mine, Don Juan Tissada.”

Ned raised his eyebrows.

“ Don Juan Tissada?
He can’t know her.
fishing—port.”

Isidore smiled and tossed her head.

“ Dat is no import. De sheep go everyvsre.
Tisssda is ttnic'nte of de Rey Alfonsd, and ’e is
hombre de bum—~you soy rich. My fader vant
me to hurry hcem, Don Eduardo. Vat you
t’inki”

Edward answered at once, as he knew she
wanted him to answer:

“ 1 hope not, Donn Indore. I don’t think any
man good enough for you, and least of all a
Spanish officer, whom you hate.”

Isidore opened and shut her fan in the ccquet-
tish manner peculiar to the ladies of her race.

“ Tissada ’9 love me. ’E worship me. ’E is
not cold, like you.”

Edward saw that without much coaxing and
some lying he would not get out of her what he
' wanted, so he said, as artful] as he could:

“ Ah, you think me cold, sidora, but you do
not know all. We Americans are trained to
hide our dearest feelings. This Tissada, he has
been at Gloucester?” v

Isidore repeated the name. ‘

“ Glo—sta—ves, vot funnee namel ’E tell me
’6 go dere. De capitan send ’eem to do—vat
you t’inkl”

“ I’m sure I don’t know,” returned Ned, as in-
difi‘ereutly as he could.

“ To see dat ver’ ladee
said Isidore. laughing.
Don Eduardo?"

Ned felt a cold tremor come over him.

A Spanish ofiicer sent to see Alice! It was
preposterous! What could it mean?

“ And what made him ol’.’ he asked, as cool-
ly as he could speak. “ ad it any connection
w ith me? Am l liable to be discovered?"

Isidore b§gan to laugh.

“ Aha! on do not know do lady of Cuba.
No one s’all discover you, vile I am here to put
dem in do wrong vay. No, no. It vas dis.
You know von marinara-yon sailor, I mean,
of Glo-sta, dat call beemself Barks—l”

“Darkel” echoed Ned excitedly. “Samson
Darkel What, is he in it too?” '

Isidora saw his alarm and hastened to say
soothingly: -

“ ’Ave no fear, ’ave no fear. Yes, yes, dat is
de name. Dis Darka ’e meet de Rey Alfonso in
de sea. De Rey, ’e look for de oor Liberador.
Dey do not know yet she is son a. Dis Darka
’e tell Tiss‘ada, you in Havana: and you write
letter to Senora Darka. Ah Don Eduardo you
hombre de mall—you bad, bad man."

And the young Cuban sla ped him with her
fan in a way that showed a e thought the ex-
ploit of writing to another man's Wife rather a
commendable one than not. for she smiled
ro uishly.

s for Ned. he was astonished” .
- “Write to his wife!” he ejaculated. “ Why,
‘ he has no wife, senorita.”

Isidore laughed at him.

“Aha! you cannot deceive me, Don Ed-
uardo. Dis Miss Alice, de poor ladee, she s'all
he informs. of dis. But dat is no import. Tis-
sada ’e go dare, and ’e see Senora Dorks. She
was seek, seek—”

“But what in the world has that to do with
me?” asked Ned.

“I tell you now. Can you not vaiti I tell
you. Tissada ’e no see Senora rka; but
9 see her fader von cor-regith you call
jud e—ah vat dat name 'e my, Masoni—‘no,
no, asson—”

“ Mason i" echoed Ned, astounded.

“ Yes, dat is it. Mason. Derka marree de -
do hter— Vy, Don Eduardo, que tiene acted?
vat ave out—no. no, vat de mattair?"

' Ned ha fallen back on his chair, pale as death,
and could only gasp:

" Nothin , nothing—in a moment—"

She watc edhim, wringing her hands in the
excitable southern way, not knowing what to do
till he recovered himself so far as to ask,
hoarsely:

“ Did ‘you say Darke had married Judge
(Mason’s aughterl”

“Si, at,” said Isidore, forgetting her English
in her excitement. .
Ned calmed himself b a great eflort. and his
eyes glowed as he sai slowly, in a deep, re-
pressed tone, very unlike hisusual frank manner:

“Dona Isidore, please tell me all that took

lace. There is some devilish plot at work.

ear my life is concerned ' it, and the safety of
our cause. Please tell me i at once."

He knew that to appeal to her for his own
safety and that of the cause was to enlist her
sympathy at once, and he was right. . .

I dare ceased coquetting, and told him a
Itrafitory at once. '

“ ' do he say dot Darka tell him do Liber-
ador was sunk; but ’e do not believe it. Darka ,
tell’eem dat you are in Havana, amidst he
know it by a letter you sent tohis wife. ’13

I don’t know him.
She lives in a Yankee

you speak of to me,”
“Is it nottoo funnee,

 

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fully and ’e gif de name of dis Mason, and
de da

ughter, Senora Darka. Tissada say
’9 t’ink it stran e, and suspect dat Darka
be jealous, an make up _ de t’ing in
his head, so he see de capitan, and de
capitan ’e say, 0 to GIG-std. Dey go dere, and
'I‘issada go see asson. Tissada to k ver’ good
Inglis, like me. ’E ask Masson if ’e know you.”
Yes, es. And what did the judge say?
No good, fearl”

“ '12 so ’e did know you, but had heard you
vas dead. Durka told 'eem.”

“Indeed? I’ve no doubt he wished it," said
Ned. bitterly; “ but go on."

“Tissada tell ’eem dat 'e ’ear you vas not
dead, but join do patriot in Havana; and ask
’eem if it was true dat you vas write to Senora
Darka. And den dey talk moch, and do jud e
tell ’eem to keep it secret dat you vas alife. t
would do no good. ’E vish you no ’arm but ’is
daughter vas now marree to Darka, an if she
know you vas alife, it would make trouble in de
familee. Den Tissada he promise you s'all not
be harm so long you stay in Havana. You can
do no harm here, and he vill have you vatch.
Aha. Don Eduardo. He do not know all. And
do Re Alfonso in ports. now, and I get all
from issada. And now you see de ladee of do
Nort’ she cold, she false, she marreo odor man,
and you s’all not go avay no more. Is it not
503' 0

The pretty Spaniard closed with a look of '

coquettish meaning, and it was plain that to
her the news which would keep Norwood in
Havana was far from being unwelcome in any
manner.

“Yon s’all sta ’ere; is it not so?” she went
on more earnest y, watching Ned’s face very
closely.

Norwood felt the cold sweat stand on his fore-
head as he reflected.

He knew that he was in a position of great
peril, whichever way he turned.

Tissada’s revelations wormed out of him

 

i

by the'wily Isidore. showed Ned that he was 1

under police surveillance by the Spanish author-

ities, while he also knew that another system of

spies, no less efl'ective and fur more secret, ex-

isatfld throughout the city on behalf of the Cu-
s

Mysterious murders occurring nightly, in
which the victims were alwa s members of the
Government party, attested e existence of the
assassination party, and Ned knew that, should
he attempt to escape without the orders of his
chief, he would be dogged at every turn by men
sworn to destroy traitors to the cause.

And here he was tied down in Havana, with
the news coming to him that Alice Mason had
married Darke, while Isidore de Saluda, who
go now realized was in love withhhim and full of

punish ' ousy, was saying to im:

“Youlviilll sta ’ere; isiit not so?”

Norwood felt hot dissimulation was the only
means by which he could save his life’ from the
snares gathering round him, so he boldly au-
swered: . > .

“Of course I shall stay here. There is no
other course for me to pursue, Dona Isidora.”

“And dis Senora Dorks,” the pursuedhwith
all the jealous persistence of her race. “ it is not
true dat you love her, Don Eduardo?"

“ Love Darke’s wife 1” echoed Nei. “ If Judge
Mason’s daughter has really warned that man
Darke, I should hate her forever.”

Isidore smiled as one well pleased, and her
eye: sparkled as she said, energetically: ~

“ She had. had woman! I hate her, too. But
‘if I t’ink you love her still, Don Eduardw”

She s pod and seemed hesitating, so that he
asked he , a little uneasily:

“ Well, what then, Dona Isidore?”

Isidora~ ground her whrte teeth together as
she anSWered: _ A

“I would keel ou bate. 32,81. I would keel
you, Don Ed 0.”

CHAPTER XXIV.
UNDER ws'rcn.

Fen some davs after the revelation of Dona
Isidora, Ned Norwood was in a state of sup-
pressed excitement he could hardly restrain
from breaking out openly. .

He had attached no danger to the fact of his
having received no rerl to the letters he had
written to Alice and udgo Mason, because in
them he had given no clew to his address, and
had been guarded in mentioning what he was
doing, for fear of his letters being opened by
government spies. I
' He had told the Judge that he had W a
ition as correspondent of the New York

molar, and told him to ask the proprietor as
to the abilit he to can fora wife.
To this he hadroce ved no answer, but had ex-
ted none .

' pefl'ow, remanligg from Isidora’s news, he found
that his letter to Alice must have been inter-
oepted by Dorks in some way, otherwise Dorko
could not have known him to be in Havana. .

And now the news came to him that _Alice
had married Darke, when he himself had hidden
away close to his heart the certificate which
showred that she was his own wife. He could

/

.l notbelieveit;hewouldnot.

 

 

“She is my wife," he would say to himself.
“No one can take her from me."

Then he thought of Isldora’s words that
Judge Mason had told the S ish officer to
conceal the fact of his being alive for fear that
it might make “trouble in the family.”

The more he thought of this, the more he be.
a: to think that by some means Alice had

n coerced into marrying Darke.

And if she had, what was he to do?

He knew that in such a case the punishment
would fall on Alice and no one else.

Could he return home and expose her to
shame when he was the only person who knew
she was married to him?

But then, on the other hand, could he believe
that Alice had married Darke? ,

Might it not be some devilish lot of the re-
vengeful Captain of the Flash w 0 had sworn
to him he should never wed Alice, but who had
been so strangely silent and sullen as soon as he
found? that the pair had already eluded his vigi.
ance

The more he thought, the more perplexed and
miserable he became till at last he made up his
mind that. cost what it might, he must escape
from his present position and get back to Glen-
cester in some way.

If Alice had really married Dorks, believing
Norwood dead. he would never disturb her.
dShedshould never know but what he was really

an

He would retain the name that he had as—
sumed in Havana, where he was known simply
as Don Eduardo Blanco, and the identity of
Ned Norwood should be lost forever.

But satisfy himself he must and to do so he
must escape from Havana.

How to do this became a problem that oc-
cupied his attention day and night till an unex-
pected occurrence put the opportunity in his
way. -
One day Isidore came to him pale and ner-
vou-i lookin , saying:

“Don usrdo. we ’ave sufler a. deep, a
great misfortune.” ‘

“ What is it?” ,

“De patriot ‘ove been defeated and one of do
prisoners ’ave turned traitor.”

“ Indeed i” said Ned listlesoly: for he was in
that state when he hardly cared for danger to
himself.

“ It is true. But dat is not all. It is expect
dot ’e vill denounce many in de citee. and ’e ’old
many secrets, even yours. It is settle dat you
must fly.”

Ned’s face brightened. ‘

“ Is that all? I’m ready. I would rather
have one good fight than stay here, however
good the pay to play the spy.”

Isidora’s eyes filled with tears.

“ Ah, yes, you are tired of me. You vould
fly anyvere to be free.”

Ned saw that he had made a mistake, for he

knew the 'rl’s jealousy, and when once a single (

informer‘ found in a conspiracy be Is aptto be
“You are wro ,"he said sooth ly. “It
is true I am tir of this life, bu, not of

on.

Isidore brightened up instant .

“Den it is settle. I, too. am of its life.
I vould be a heroine, like do maid of do
city of Saragossa. I ’ave a plan: ve viii flee
tozeder." '

Nod was astonished and confounded.

Flight to himself was easy enough. but with
a woLnon to incumbor him, difficult if not im—

e.

The col obstacle to his taking the next best
to New ork la in the fact that ho dreaded to
he assassinated y the Cubans if he allowed his
intention to be known, they being all suspicious
of itors to the cause.

ith Isidore. by his side this danger would be
removed, but another would become imminent.
How could he avoid telling her his true posi-
tion, and to what lengths would bar jealousy
lead her when she found hereally loved anoth-r
Wg‘mm" tim he postu' listed.
0 gain e ox

“But, Dona Isidore, it Is not pomible. You
are a woman unfit to encounter hardship.”

She waved her hand impatiently.

“But is not’ing. I ’ave aplan: you s’oll go
to de patriot cow)!

“ But howl e cannot get through the lines
of the Spanish troops.”

“I villsee todat. Be ready tonight. You
must he disguise, and I will send to you do
dress. I have settle it since Pear dot Domingo
Hing-two have turn miter. I am not safe my-
se ‘

“ You are mistaken. senorlto. No one will
hurt the daughter of Don Jose de Salado. He
is too well known.”

Isidore. shook her head sadly. .

“ You do not know. My fador vould not
tosave me, only from de public disgrace.
vould keel mo ’imsclf!”

She would say no more except that-ho would
send him instructions whottodo very-con, and
then she want own .

As for Nor-w . not knowing what else to
do, he went into the street: to pick up news
Indfoundthomerchontoin the Exchange full

followed by others.

 

 

l

of theintelligence of the defeat of the loan nt-
chief‘ and the expected instant collapse 0 the
rebellion.

To be sure they had been promised that so
many times in ten years the they were all a
little skeptical, but none the less tried hard to
believe the news.

Ned had become well known on the Exchange
as the “ Rubio Americana,” or fair- haired
American, and it was generally supposed that.
a; was an intense Spaniard in al issympa—

on.

Therefore he was exultingly informed by one
of tbeS anish sympathiwrs, a stout ntleman.
who un ted the functions of a. menu acturer of
cigarritos and a colonel of volunteers, that:

‘ We have the murderous villains at last,
senor. They cannot escape the plans of the
Cepiten-Generol. We shall have the wholerebel
army prisoners in three days and then we shall.
be able to deal with the traitors in our city.”‘

“ It is not iblo there are traitors in thin
city," said ed incredulouslgéd

The fat commandant» sig .

“ Ah, Senor Blanca, you cannot tell how this

‘mednem spreads. It is all owing to—excuso my

frankness—your nation.”

“ My nation,” said Ned, amused.

“ Yes, senor. Not to on, understand, nor-to
those gallant gentlemen ike you who are friends
of Spa in. But since cur rent war when you
so foolisth abolish the ivine institution v:
clover , our no rues must needs think they on ht
to bo , and t t is where all the trouble
gins. It was a thing accused, that war of‘
yours. ”

“ And so you think?" said Ned inquirin ly.

“ I think. senor, that it there were no {meri—
cans to stir them up. there would be no rebellion.
here. The Captain-General has it in his mind. I
hear, to issue a decreee banishing all the Amor-
icaus from this island.” '

“ I wish he would,” thought Ned; but aloud he
inquired: '

“ And is this decree to beiuucd soon!"

“ No, senor. not that I know of ; but if we had
our way, it should be issued. In the meantime,
there will be numerous arrests this very night, ‘
and I hope the police will make examples of the
insolent forei here who dare to speak openly of
sympathy wit the wicked rebels.”

Ned had heard enough.

He knew the commandante to be a man high
in authority among the volunteers, one of the
most violent of the mob of officers who often
compelled the Captain-General to do things at I
which his judgment revolted, and at the sauna
time this very (-ommandante, from his habits of

ed

brag adocio. was the person who su

with is most Valuable information. . v
. The young man went at! at once to the tale-
gruph office to cable to New York the news:

“Thai-civillheaeornerino sho .
‘Ijleasures are on foot to buy umm cropntwo-

“y.” ' /

The message dispatched. he went back to
Don Jose‘s house and kept a watchful eye on
every person he saw.

He knew most of the police spies by sight, but
none of them was in t
the door of Salnda’t garden.

Then he saw a man in the dress of a laborer
digging up the soil round on orange tree and
asked him: '

"What are you doing that for?” ‘

“ To give the tree a chance to grow,” said the
man, touching his hat respectfully. “There
are many weeds to be plucked up before the
orange tree shall flourish.”

The language was peculiar to'Ned’s ear, for
he was already beginning to detmct difference!
in dialects.

This man spoke pure Castilian and sounded
all his sibilant letters with o slight l

Moreover, it is so rare to see a whi man It
manual labor in Cuba that his suspicions were
at once excited.

He walked toward the house and when he
reached the door turned his head (thickly.

The seemin -laborer was watc ing him, and
he knew that t a man 'must be o spy. He pro-
tended to take no notice, but when he got in-
side he went to each of the doors of the house.
and looked out.

On every side was a man at work under the
orange trees, digging lanai away and fro-
rglmntly pausing, ut always coping his face to
t ehouse.

Ned Norwood knew that he was shadowed
and that the time had come for action. '

He went to his room and sat down to think,
but could see no plan to escape.

The steamer had gone for tho'week, so he
could not take stage for New York.

Suppose hot new himself on the rotectiou
of the American causal, what would happen?

It was the most feasible scheme he could
think of, and no sooner had it messed his mind
than he jumped up, determined to try it.

But no sooner had ‘he entered the garden
again and advanced toward the gate than the
man at work under the tree gave a short
whistle that seemed to be a '1 ol, and Ned new
four soldiers start out from t e shade of neigh-
boring groves and come running to the gate.

Hestoppod, tor-he could hardly hollow yet

a street till he came to _

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The Fog Devil.

 

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that he was to be arrested, when one of them
called out to him;

“ Into the house. senor; into the house.”

“ Why?” asked Ned, as the man came up.

The soldier sbru ged his shoulders.

“ How can I tell It is the order.
sent here."

“ Then you have no order to arrest moi” Ned
asked him.

“ No, senor, unless you leave the grounds and
house. In that case we are to lock you up in
the Cellar.”

Ned made no further observation, but went
into the house and up to his room again.

When he looked out, of his window, the four

ards Were apain at work, or rather pretend-

ng to be at work, while the soldiers had hidden
themselves. . 1

Obviously he was in the midst of some rent
plot for wholesale arrest, which was not be
anticipated. . .

He asked one of the servants if Don Jose was
within, but learned that he had been summoned
to the Captain-General’s palace for a council of
war.

Then he knew that his information had been
correct, and realized that his secret must be
open to all. .

While he was thinking, with no verygleas-
ant feelings, of a. residence in the Moro astle

for an indefinite time, he was-surprised to hear
Dons lsidora’s voice behind him, and turning,
. ' faced the young lady dressedfor traveling. who
said to him, with a smile:

“ Well, our enemies are alert, but not alert
enough for me, Eduardo.”

“ Why? What do you mean?” he asked,
vsguel , for he had no ideaagirl could help him
out of is scrape.-

Isidora looked out of the window at the
guards, and favored them with a mocking sneer
as she replied to him:

“Those men do not know their business. It
sumces a woman to outwit them. I am going
to visit my father’s sugar estate and have a
piss through the lines for myself and two sor-
vauts. No one would harm ladies you knew,
and my father dare not go. You shall come
wittiéme‘i: Ill 1 "

' utt eyw‘ not at mepass.

“ You shall go as my servant."

_“ Your servant!”

“Yes, ibatis what I came to tell you. It is
necessary for. you to go out openly, so that

i when they enter the case to arrest you to-
 fliey may be disappoin ”
was paneled.

“ But how shall {pass as your servantil lam
too well known.” -

Isidora laughed. -

“You must humiliate yourself, my friend.
One must creep when'éne cannot walk. Listen.
you are a mbt'o and bearded. You are tall and
stout. Well, you must sacrifice that beard of

, which on are so proud. and become my ser-
vant. hey tell me that in our country white
men frequently put on the b ck skin for money
and sing songs. You must do it now for your
life. The carriage will be at the door in half
an hour and you must beready. How long Will
it take you to shave and disguise?”

“ About half an hour if I have the dress.”

“ It shall be laid at your door with a knock.
Be read when the csm‘age comes. Remember,

ou wi" have to carry my boxes and they are
eavy. , .
She went away with a coquettish smile and

We were

Norwood set to work at his froparations with a .

speed that surprised himsel
v How was‘ it hle he had not thought of
this before! T e scheme was so simple.

But as‘ he went on cutting 05 his beard and
shaving he also reflected that simple as it was,
it compelled him to leave Havana in the coin-
gany of Isidora and that he would be likely to

ad it veialhard to get rid of her, and leave the
island of ha.

“ Never mind ” he said to himself. “if I stay
here till nlgéfl’. Iain sure to be arrested, and at
least i shall ave a chance of getting, away from
the rebel camp on some pretext."

So be shaved himsel clean and just as he
finished heard a knock at the door. It was Isi-
‘dora herself with a bundle and a little basin of
black paint With a spon in it. She laughed
at his clean face and as him with her own
hands to clip his fight hair close to his head.

“ There,” .she said when she had finished,
“now the handsome Don Eduardo has become

_ no better than an one else. Heston, my friend,
and apply this ye. It will not wash 03 for
weeks so on must make up your mind tobo
bought an sold till I choose to make‘yon white
a n. Be quick, for the carriage Will be here

directly, Gas ardo.”
She tri god) out tittering at the change in his
looks on ed rapidly converted himself into a

Cuban ne ro coaohman, with
black wool and a orgeous very.

When he looks at hi , If in the glam he
felt sure that his oldest friend would not have

close copy of a

“Gaspar-do, Gaspardo, mm aca." [Gaspar,
come herel] ‘

Helmew it was the name assigned to him
and he ran out in a great hurry to find his
new mistress down in the hall scolding vio-
lently at the servants for not having her trunks
readg in time. . -

“ nd you, too, lazy vagabondl' she cried,
addressing the false spnrdo, “insolent that

, you are, why do you not take hold of a box
‘ and help! Quick, or when we get to the plan-
,tation you shall be flogged by the OVerseer.
I Quick, lazy onel"

And before he could fairly shoulder a trunk,

E she had begun to lash him with ariding-whip
, and scold every one in true slave-holding style.

The false Gaspardo did just as too true one
would have done, hurried out with the trunks
and strapped them on the back of the carriage
accompanied by a volley of shrill Spanish
epithets and frequent cuts with the whip.

At last Dona. isidora was t into the car-
riage and she called to Gaspar 0:

“Get up on the box, pig that you are, and
drive to the Vuelta Ahsjo road. When we get
to the plantation I’ll see you punished.”

 

CHAPTER xxv.
THE FLIGHT.

, TEE vigilant guards outside were completely
deceived by the behavior of Isidora.. They had
orders, it apBeax-ed after, to let her pass, for the
reason that on Jose had actually sent her on a.
journey to one of his sugar estates, which lay
within the rebel lines.

The old don, with all his patriotism, had a.
keen e e for the main chance, and a preciated
the vs no to his property where it ay within
the enemy‘s lines of havmg a. son an officer in
the enemy’s force.

When ever plantation around it had been
burned the Sn uda estate had been unhurt, and
Don Jose had not been above conniving at the
running out of cargoes of his sugar, when other
people’s property was ruthlessly confiscated by
the Spanish cruisers.

It was to give directions for just such a, surrep-
titious ex dition that Isidora. was now going
out, with er servants.

The lounging pies, Kretending to dig under
the orange trees,.watc ed the carriage roll by
and gazed unsuspiciously at the gorgeous black
coachman on the box, so far of! that they failed
to notice his blue eyes, which gave the lie to his
black skin. .

The carriage rolled out, the black coachman
sitting upon the box by the black boy who had
resigned the reins to him, and soon had quitted
the vicinity of the cit , and was bowling along
the high road to the uelta Abajo District, fain-
ous for tobacco and revolutions.

As soon as they were out of hearing of any
chance passabb , Isidora let down the front
window and sai to Norwood:

“Drive fast. It may be they’ll find out the
ruse before night, and we must pass the outposts
in time.”

Ned laid on the whip and the horses were all
in a lather of foam when they reached the first
military post on the road, where they were
halted by a gorgeous oficer andsc dad of re
dirty volunteers, who stared at sidora. wit
such evident admiration, rudely expressed, that
the fine~lookin oficer. had to order them back
while he read t ‘ lady’s pass.

Then he bowed low saying:

“ Paw adclante rmn'ta. [Pass on. miss.)

The carria e bowled away again and Isidore
called u to orwood:

"I tod you the were not wise enough to
cogs with a Cuban ady.”

hey were _the inside lines and had no
further troub 0 till the afternoon pretty late
when the countr grew wild and they could see,
at intervalson e t or side the road, the amp-
flres of and: of soldiers that seemed to be
picketing t 9 country.

Here they were ha ted by a party of cavalry,
and the oflcer scanned the pass closele.

When he handed it back .to Dona idora he
said to her admiringly:

E‘You are a courageous lady to venture all
alone into the country of those detestable and
villainous iasur ants. Are you not afraid 1"

Isidore smil and flirted her fan in the most
coqnettish way. -

‘ If Iam not afraid of you, how can I fear
them, whom you have conquered so many
times, lieutenant. No, I don't fear them, for I
shall tell them that you are coming hard after
me and they will certaing run.”

The lieutenant looked a the beautiful lady in
a longing manner.

“ Ah, if I could but have the privi‘le e of

troop, smalls: it is, into the whole army of

the rebels.”
" Don’t trouble yourself,” was the merry re-
ply. ‘,‘ They might kill you after all and what

would’the ladies of Havana do for you at the

known hiinandhe was but justin time when next ball! No, no, lieutenant, I’m safe
thebeerd the rumble of wheels on the gravel a on .” . . . v
coach. . ',‘ t least let one of my men go ahead of

and , Don- Jose’s lumberingmold famil
drove u with a. little black y on the x.
Then 0 board Isidora’s voice belowhcalling:

I
I

 

on with a flag of trace " he urged “or the re-
in may fire on you." ' '

.is Don Eduardo

being your escort, I would venture wit my,

 

“ My coachman can do that. Good by,
senor.” '

Then the false Gaspardo laid on the whip
and the carriage drove on till the sun had set
through a. wild, deserted country. where the
blackened ruins of houses and cane—fields showed
the work of the incendiary.

Isidora presently pulled down the window,
and called out:

“ Stop!"

The carriage came to a halt. and she opened
the door before the black boy could spring
down, and got out.

“Get (:R the box," she said tothe bo . “I
am oing to drive on in triumph now. on go
insi e.”

The boy wonderinglg obeyed, and the young
lady climbed n on t a box, drew from her
bosom a large uban Republican flag which she
had carefully hoaided there, and spread it out
so as to flutter in the air.

“Now,” she said to Norwood, “drive or. I
feel as if I had just come out of a dungeon into
the free air of the open sea. Let them fire on
us now if they dare. This is better than any
flag of truce.”

The last glow of the short tropic twilight was
still in the sky, and the moon within three da 3
of the full, shone down on the lonely and e-
seried road as the carriage dashed on at a rapid
tror.

“The horses know they’re going home," said
Dona. Isidora. “We shall come on the patriot
soldiers very soon now."

.They climbed a hill and rattled into a. valley
beyond, at the end of which they could see a
light burning as of a fire.

“That is our men,” cried Isidore, with her
eyes s srkling. “ Oh, how I wish i could stay
here a l the time. I hate Havana.”

Pretty soon after they heard the clattenof a

horse’s boots, and a man rode up to them, who .

shouted sternly:

“ Haltl” .

As he did so Ned heard the click of a pistol-
lock, and obeyed promptly when Isidore waved
her flag. crying: ‘

“ Shame on on, soldier, not to know this
flog. Iam Isl ora do Salads. Where is my
brother? Has he returned from the sea yet?”

The man put up his pistol hastily, saying:

“A. thousand pardons, senorita, but we have
to be very careful in these times. We have
news of an expected advance. Don Juan Salads
has returned from sea, senorita, and is in the
camp beyond us. He goes away in the morn-

in .’

Isidore uttered a of joy.

“That is good.  Drive on, Gaspardo.”

Norwood could see by the light of the moon
that the vedette who had stopped them was a
wild-looking fellow in leather trowsers. a dirty
cotton shirt, and a broad straw hat.

He had bare legs and feet, but wore a bu
pair of spurs on his naked heels, and r e
a rough, wiry pony. '

His only weapon a peared to be a sword
stuck into a frog - n his 1; and the big revolver
he had drawn on them. ,

He was very dark, with long- matted black
hair, and altogether as tough a specimen of hu-
manitlyasone would care to meet in a day’s
marc . ~

He rode on with them beside the carriage, the
lady conversin freely with him and calling him
Pepito, from w ich it appeared that she knew
him well.

He told her all sorts of battle incidents that
had happened within the st week, and they
both seemed to en‘jgy the ription of how a
whole regiment o panish soldiers had been on
one occasion sur rised and cut to pieces, note
single man sees ng.

Isidore clapped her little hands and told the
wild horseman that it was well done, that she
wished it could be done to all of them.

“ Oh, hush, Isidore," whispered Ned, in Eng—
lish. “Consider that you are c. women, an
that women should show mercy." ‘

Isidora. laughed bitterly.

“ Mercy, indeed! You do not know our race.
Don Eduardo. The show us no mercy, and
neither will we show t to them.”

“ Who is that black thief that grumbles on the
box?" cried Pepito, suspiciously. “ ls henot
one of the true ones?”

As he spoke, he made a motion toward his re-
volver, but Isidora. checked him with the hasty

re 1 :

Bile is a friend, Pepito in disguise. The
police would have arrested him to~da badI
not had the luck to think of this expedi on. ,It
Blanco.”

The moment the wild rebel beard thename be
altered his tone, dofing hissomhrero in the most
ceremonious manner.

uDon Eduardo is welcome,” he said. “We
have heard much of him, and he hassent us
good news many a time. He is very we]-
come."

Hers Isidore interrupted him by so ing:

“Go on ahead, food Pepito, an tell my
brother who is com ng.”

. , Pepito bewed low and set ofl ate. gallop, when I

Isidora said seriously to Norwood: ,
“ Eduardo, you must be more prudent. I

. 

‘A n», _

 
 

 

 

‘.

l

 

 

know you Northern people do not fight as ours
do, but you must remember that our men are
very miserable, hungry and naked, while the
enemy is in the midst of riches. They feel bit-
ter over it and must have their revenge when
they can. on must not talk against it before
them, or they will suspect you, and to be sus-
pected among them is to be in danger. Show
no sign of fear or horror, whatever you see or
bear.”

Norwood promised. and they soon neared the ‘-

flre, where t ey found the young lieutenant who
was the cause of all Ned’s miseries. returned
from the sea and commanding on land.

He embraced his sister rapturously, and when
he was introduced to Ned, in his singular dis-
guise burst out luu hing.

“ pon my word,’ he cried. “you .are better
fitted than ever for a secret agent! No one
would dream but that you are areal negro. Ah,
my friend, we have had a glorious time since
you left us." .

N ed shook hands, and replied rather coldly:

“ I, for my part, have not. I have been shut
up in a house all the time. What have you done
that is so fine?"

“ I have spoiled the enemy.” quoth Saluda in
a gleeful tone. “With a little cookie-shell of a.
boat, that no one would think could have lived
in a common storm, I have taken three Spanish
ships and sent in fifty thousand stand of arms to
the Re ublicun army." - :

But will tell you all about it after supper.
You are hungry and tired, all of you."

Their supper was plentiful, but coarse, con-
sisting mainly of pork from the wild swine
that roam the woods of the West Indies at all
times. but which had increased wonderfully
during the long rebellion, owing to the neglect
to keep them thinned off.

Fruits were in abundance. of course, but
bread there was none. and roasted ears of corn
had to supply the defimenc‘y.

When they had finishe eating, Isidore. was
conducted to head-quarters, held in a rude but
of branches in the depths of a‘wood. and Sa-
lnda beckoned Ned apart to a small fire.

“ Come, let as smoke 0. cl er and talk,” he said.

Ned, nothing loth. and- eeling that a. chance
ml ht yet be c n to him to work on Saluda’s
fee lugs and in ace him to aid in permitting an
escape. followed him to the fire, and after a
short silence began:

“ Tell me what happened to you after I left
you in the yacht Mystery." .

Saluda began to chuckle to himself.

“ It is too rich! By the by. you have picked
a a great deal more Spanish than I have of
Epilgilih. It is acomfort, for it is hard for me
toconversa in that language. Well, you may
remember the tricks we played on that worthy
captain of yours in the fog, the night before
we missed his schooner?”

return , sm nga e reco ec—

“ as,” ed Ned ill 1: th ll
tion ‘ I fancy he must have thought there
were ghosts in the fog. for he certainly left his
anchorage in a. hurry next morning.”

Saluda laughed again.

“ Well,” he said, ‘it struck me that the same
superstitions exut among all sailors. and I had
often heard the French talk of a certain Diable
du Brmu'llard or Fog Demon, -that lures
vessels todestruction. I resolved to make .use
of that superstition to saye myself and preserve
my little boat from perdition. ’

“And how?" ‘ .

“ I will tell you in a moment. First, you
invasion often on the Banks of Newfound-
on

“Yes. I suppose twentytiinee. at least."

“ And did you ever go there when there was
no fog in the air?”

Norwood reflected.

“I cannot say I did. save in the very depth
of winter, when storms of snow are just as thick
as the fol"

“ Exactly. Well. the fog was my refuge.”

“ In what manner!"

“ I reasoned thus: The fogs/are produced by
the meeting of the warm Gulf Stream and the
ice brought down from Bafiln’s Bay by the
Arctic currents. They were certain to last till
the ice melted. and in an early spring the ice is
a t to come down in such masses that it is not

1 melted till the month of August.”

“ I see that. But what else?

“Wait a bit. I am coming toit. This year
the ice was unusually thick, but after you left us
it came down in extroo fields, so that all

the steamer: gave the Banks 3 ve wide berth.
"i I, on the other ,liand. stuck to, ice 9,. my
best hold on life. " A
u Why; I can't see.

“ Of course not. but can listen. The ice
is always covered ‘71th min. and here
and there a bear. BY “8138 0}“ m we could
economize both food and fuel-

‘- Fnen howl” . .

“Ever seal is a reservmr of 011, mdee laid
in a stoc of dried blubber that left us at liberty
to husband our coal. The steam would he got
up quicker on soul’s blubber, than on the but
cool '

“ I understand.” v
“ And settlement is not bad

1 1 can assure you, when one is tired Of

°"‘“‘“.‘.l¥%§i‘i

’\ ‘T‘s‘w

 

The Fog Devil.

and pork. But we did not stay there for the
eating and drinking alone."

“ I can imagine not.”

“ No. It was because the ice was a perfect
refuge for us, hidden in the fog. No one would
dream of lookin for us, and no one but you
knew that the iberador was not still afloat.
So we kept within the ice, and wheneVer
we discovered a specially high iceberg that
looked solid, we used it for a watch-tower.”

“ A watch—tower?”

“ Certainly. These lofty bergs almost always
stand out above the fo , and one can see out to
sea beyond the mist. n this way we found sev-
eral sails and managed to capture two Spanish
vessels. bound to New York, also one gomg
from New York to Spain with a cargo of
muskets, from a New Yor gun firm, to the
Spanish Government.”

“And what did you do with them?" asked
Ned a little apprehensively.

Saluda’s face darkened.

“Never mind. The ship with the muskets
we brought in here and ran her ashore. Her
cargo is all in the hands of the patriots. But
we Were near being discovered once.“

“ How i” >

“A whole fleet of schooners came into the
fog, soon after we ran back, and came toanchor
in such deep water I could; not tell what they
were trying to do. We found afterward that
they were fishermen, and we wanted to scare
them oil! the grounds.”

“ How did you do it?"

“We had just taken the ship Mercedita of
Cadiz, and had not yet sunk her. So we took
her hell and put it up at the Very top of a rock.
ing iceberg, that was floating down near the
fleet. It was a fiskyajob to do; but we managed
to stick in a crow r and hang the bell by a
rope so that it would swing clear and sound
loudly. Then we went to the other and stead—
ier her and placed lights on the tops of all of
them. fist as night came on."

He broke off, laughing at the recollection.

“ What was the con hence?" asked Ned.

“The consequencel complete success. I
swear to you. my friend, had I not set the bell
myself. I should have been frightened.”

“ Why? every five or ten minutes durin the
niglht that berg would be n to rock a the
he would tell lke mad, high up in the air. and
as it sounded over the fog it was impOssible to
locate it exactly. We ke t on the main fine of
ice-which was anchored ant to the shallower

rte of the Banks by grounded barge, and we ‘

card the bell growing fainter and fainter, but
even then seeming to go up in the air, not away
over the water."

“ And did it frighten them away?”

“Frighten them? _ Well you must remember
it was night and thick fog. We knew where
we. were, because we had our bearings; but
those poor fellows did not know where togo.
We could hear a tem t of shouting on board
their boots. but they d d not dare stir in the fog
and darkness.”

“ And how did it result?"

“Well, they kept their position all next day.
in spite of the fright. You may be sure we re-
olaimed the bell as soon as dayl ht came, for
we did not care to have our tiic discovered.
We found it nearly aim to the bottom of the
sea and clear outsi e o the fo . so we got it
an went back to the Mercedita. She was
moored to the anchored floe. That nl ht we
set them all log again; three bergs wit ll hi:
911 top. and t 0 biggest of all with the bell. e
rigged the bell just at sunset. and followed the
berg in the launch.”

“ And what was the consequence?”

“The second time finished them. They all
pulled up their cables and sailed away rather
than pass another night with that bell. We
never saw them afterward, and no fishing ves-
sels ever molested us afterward.”

“ A strange story.” was Ned’s comment.

“Yes.” Saluda said, smiling, “ it was a very
queer experience. But yourself, tell me what
you have been doing.”

Ned Norwood gave his companion a short his-
tor of his adventures in Havana, and then
bro e out with his private story and what
he had heard from Isidora as to the weddln of
Alice Mason. He ended by implorlng 3.. ads,
to let him escape to Gloucester. promisin to
come back again if he found that Alloefiiad
really married Darke.

“But suppose she has not and is faithful to
you?" asked the young chief, whose eyes were
rather moist at the earnest recital.

Ned hesitated and Saluda added:

“ You need not answer. You are in love, and
you are no use tous till it is settled. For the
sake of Cuba, I hope she has married your rival.
In that case, I hope you Will kill him and come
back, desperate for revenge on the human kind.
Those are the men that make the good soldiers.
You shall go.” ‘

"Thanks, thanks.”

And Ned was beginning to express his gnu.
tude when Saluda suddenly started to his feet,
and looked fixedly at the western .

A rocket haddjlust burst into a shower of red
“I”. over the stunt Spanish lines.

 

 

23

“What is that'l". he muttered. “ Can it be
the signal? It is impossible; and et a red rocket
means an advance of the one y. Norwood,
you will have to take my sister to a place of
safety. We shall have an assault tonight, or
I am very much mistaken.”

Norweod’s face foil.

The very task he was anxious to avoid, es-
corting ‘Isidora de Baluda about, was to1 be
thrust on him once more. will he. nill he.

“ Where are we to go?" he asked.

, Saluda considered a moment, watching the
distant sky, and a Second rocket burst into red
stars, ending his indecision.

“ It is the sl mi of the attack." he said.
“The enemy Wil be here in a. few hours. I
trust my sister to your honor, senor. You will
not abuse the trust, I know."

He roused up the whole post, and a few min-
utes afterward couriers were on tho gallop to
reuse the whole of the insurgent army, to repel
the expected assault, while the Saluda carriage
wasdl'iustily horsed and Don Juan said to Nor.
woo :

“ You will drive away to the plantation and
leave Isidore. at the house. It is ten miles from
here, and Pepito will ride with on to show the
way. Afterward, you will a our pleasure
about goin to sea. Our American friend is
cruisirg o the Bay of San re Crista, and if
you can get to him he will. oubtless put on
aboard some vessel going to your home. his
ass viill enable you to depart without alarm-
ng the outposts; lot I warn you of one thing.”

“ And what is that?”

The young Cuban lowered his voice.

“ Do not let Isidora know you are going away
from us for good."

“ Why not?” asked Ned, surprised at the pen-
etraiion of his companion and wendering i be
suspected the truth. ,

Saluda took him a little distance apert,hnd“
said confidentially:

“Between you and me, the game is very .

nearl over for us, or I would not lit you go;
but sldcra must not know it. Poor girl, it
would break her heart. She has worked and
suffered so much for us. if she knows you are

oing with my pass, she will suspect the truth.
Therefore keep the secret. Say you are going
on duty. Pepito will guide you to the bay. A!
for me—”

He paused'end seemed unable to go on.

“And on?” said Ned. “Why do you not
come wit me and let no all has together? I

as you so . the game is nearl u (and I 5
you are right), your life will be iambic“? you
are taken. i >

Saluda wrnn his hand hard.

“ It cannot , in friend. I am a Cuban
born and bred. and must die by my flag. I
cannot afford to live. Sumac it, there 5 a great
battle coming, and I do not hope we shall win.
It will not be an afiair' of regiments this time;
but twenty thousand men are to advance on no.
The odds are too at, but at least I will not be
taken alive.
friend to wait OR the coast till tomorrow night.
If I am not there then I shall never bothers.
And now farewell.”

An hour later the carriage entered the road
leading to the Saluda plantation.

~ CHAPTER XXVI. '
A venoucnsrna GIRL.
Anal: Mason. Very pale and weak, but ableto
sit up in an easy-chair, ay back in alerge rocker,
look rig3 at the sea with a sad, musing lance,
while or father watched her with an anion
look on his face.

It was her first return to convalescenoo lined
the do when Samson Darke had come to
marry or, and when she had fainted at .tho
altar, interrupting the ceremony. ‘

From that da had dated a low nervous
fever, which the octors could not describe with
any certainty, but which none the less had
brought her to death’s door.

Some rolled it malarial. others ty old,
another insisted it was nervous, while a
was equally certain that it was cerebro-Ipinai'
meningitis. but all agreed 'that it was a chance
whether she surnved, and the consequence was
that they gave her Very little medicine, and left
her alone. , The still more natural consequence

 

of this treatment was that youth and a etron A V .

constitution triumphed over the shock. on
Alice Mason began slowly to recover.

It was while she was at her worst that the
Spanish lieutenant. Tlssada. had called to see

the judge. and had given him the intelligence '

that N .Norwood was alive, and in Havana, as
an agent for the Cuban insurgents.

To the judge the news was unwelcome. 'He.
had begun to entertain an unreasonable hatred
of Norwood, as the cause of all his daughter’s
unhappiness, and to be glad that he was safe
onto the we at last.

Alice, in h 3 ideas, had secured an excellent.
husband in Samson Darke, one of the richest
men in Gloucester. and he felt sure. as soon as
she Igot well, that the interrupted ceremony -
won d be resumed. and all end well.‘

‘ Now came the laws glut tfigd handsome
‘youug u r, as e ugeca mwho
had made“ a? the trouhlje between Alice, and '

If t e worst comes to us, tell on: -

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24.

  

' as; 

 

Darke, was alive again, and likely to come back
'at any moment to make more.
It was not wonderful that the judge, who

\ adored money and re tabilit , should feel an-
noyed at the news exprem If so to the
S nish oflcsr

 

at that he actually wished to kill Norwood,
but having ima ned him dead and out of the
wag it was too to have him turn up again.

a questioned Tissada as to how he had found
out Ned’s existence and the officer told him.

Then the judge knew that Darke must have
intercepted a letter to Alice from Ned.

Strange to sady, the discovery did not irritate
him. He woul have done the same himself in
an instant, such was his confidence that he
knew best how to secure his daughter's future
he loses.

e only blamed Darke for not tell him at
the time what he had done, and when 'ssada
left the house it was with the understanding
that no complaints would be made if all Ned
Norwood’s letters to the Mason household should
be intercagsd and Ned treated to lodgings in
the Moro ustle.

Then the tedious weeks of illnes wore on and
it was late in August when Alice at last was re-
leased from her sick room and allowed to come
dawn-s'airs and look at the sea. She seemed to
have dreaded it before that time. When she
was in her fever the sound of the surf on the
shore when the wind was high had always been
sudicisnt to threw her into violent raving in
which the name of Ned Nor-wood was mingled
with prayers to the storm to spare him.

After her recovery of control over her mind,

,she never mentioned his name. but lay still for
hours brooding, and only shuddened when she
heard the sea.

But this da , for the first time she asked for
herchair to wheeled to the back windowa,
where she could see the harbor and open ocean,
and she lay back and looked at it musineg till
the judge observed cheerfully:

“'A beautiful da , Alice, isn’t it. How would

,‘you’ like to take a ttle cruise for a week or two

long the to cheer our mind and put
'bealthwinto you thing t e finesoft air of the
.m .

n
I ‘Alice looked round at him wearily.

‘v ,“ What is the use, father? We don’t own
any yacht to go cruisin in.”

l 2 The judge was delig ted, for the the words
seemed to imply a wish on the part of Alice to
go out, if she had the means.
I “ There’s no need of waiting for a yacht, my
dear,” he mid briskly. “I know a gentleman
who has more than one beautiful schmner swift
as any yacht, that he would be delighted to
place at our service for a cruise.”

“ And who's that i" asked Alice indiflerently.

, ,The judge hesitated, for he had never dared

to speak 'the name of Samson Darke since the

day of Alice’s fall at the altar.

'A—a gentleman, my dear,” he said, “who
is very much attached to you, very rich. and
who would he onlv too happy to lay all his for-
fans at your feet.”

“ What’s his name i” asked Alice in the same
indiflerent tone.

? “ Captain Darke,” replied the judge watch-

ing his daughter’s face v keenly to discover

if she had any feeling of ag tation.

Alice colored faintly and nervously patted
the arms of the rocking-chair in which she re-
clined as she said:

“I remember somethin about him, before I
was sick. Was I rude to ‘mf”

‘ The judge coughed.

’ ‘ 9’ Well, You won’t be offended if I say yes.

.But we don’t blame you at all now. The doc-
tors say that you must have been in a sadly

nervous" stats for weeks. before you broke

wu—

‘ " Tell me,” interru ted Alice suddenly. “ I
don’t remember clear y. Was there not some-
thingpwas there not a funeral or something of
the sort when I was taken sick i”

“ Pechoed the judge.
dear .it wasa wedding."

Alice tmed her head quickl
“A w l ‘Whose wed ingi “'ho was
tabs marl-i I don’t remember any of my
friends who Were to be married 7”

The judge was puzzled what to say. The doc-
ura had'cautioned him against anything that
might excite the patient but what was he to do
wit 'a girl that appeared to have forgotten her
own weddin -dayl .

' He afi'eot to betroubled with a bed cough
to ain time during which Alice sat and stared

‘at film with or t solemn eyes, as if she was

waiting, detcrm tied to have an answer.

At last he managed to say: ,

' 3“It’s not possible you’ve forgotten, is it .7”

z “Whose Wedding was it?” repeated Alice, in

the same quiet matter—of-fact wa .

I “Whiz, your t«alwna‘gy  bllilirltfd out
n son ng in e see, a am

alf shelf

a But, to his surprise, Alice manifested no sort

of emotion. She merel closed her eyes and lay

back in the chair. thin

'At last she said in a low voice:

; “ l was afraid I had not forgotten."

'. “Afraid, my dear?” .

   
     
  
    
 
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
   
   
  
  
   
     
     
    
    
   
 
     
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
 

“Why, my

    

 

 

“ Yes. That is the worst of it,” said she. wea-
rily. “ I cannot die and I cannot forget.”
“ But whyd should you wish to forget?” ven-

tured the gu ge delicately.
“ Oh I on t know,” answered Alice, dreami-
ly, loo g out over the sea. “Everything

seems so lovely to-day. God is so ood. The
sea looks so broad and so kind. I one could
onl forget men and enjoy nature. But that is
so] - I suppose. Isn’t it, father!”

The (Edge didn’t know what to say, except:

“ l t quite understand you, Alice. But
you needn’t explain. The doctor says you must
not talk too much."

Alice smiled rather scornfully.

“ The doctor! Much he knows. But I mean
isn’t it selfish to live only to enjoy yourself? It’s
very pleasant, of course.”

" I don‘t see why it’s selfish,” retorted the
judge, rather sharply. “ We’re put into the
wor d to enjoy life as much as we can, and
you’ve got a great deal to enjoy, Alice, if you’ll
only look at it in the right light.”

‘ Have I?” asked she, wearily.

“Wh , certainly,” said Judge Mason, warm
ing wit his theme. “ Here you’re my only
child, and I’m not by any means a pauper.
And then here’s a man worth a hundred thou-
sand dollars, at the very least, who fair] wor»
ships the and you walk on. and a i you
have to do is to get well and enjoy his fortune
and mine. Most of the Gloucester girls would
be glad to stand in your shoes.”

“Would they i” asked she, in the same was
way. “Well, I sup use I’m very ungrateful.
But I don’t want to so, father. Tell me, do
you think one ought to try to make other peo-
ple happy by sacrificin oneself!”

The judge—keen old wyer that he was—saw
the drift of her question and answered it.

“I know one thing, that since your sickness
poor Durke has been miserable, and that if on
were to treat him decently you would make im
very happy.”

“Where is he now i” asked Alice.

The judge was so delighted at the question
that he jumped up instantly, asking:

“ Would you really like to soothe poor fellow?
He had not dared to come here since you’ve been
well, though he was here every day while you
were unconscious. Ah, Alice, you don’t know
that man. Such a whole-souled, generous fel-
low. And he has been so tormented by the gos-
sips of the town—”

“About what?” asked Alice, wondering] .

“ About you. They retend you jilted him at
the altar, that your sic essis a mere plan to
get rid of him. And through it all he hasbeen
so patient. a You owe him a little happiness,
Alice. He would die for on in a moment.”

Alice sighed deeply an lay back, closing her
eyes for several in nutes.

At last she said, slow a: I

“ Would it make him uppy to send for him,
do you think!”

“ He would be delighted,” asseversted Mason.

“ Then send for him. father.”

The jud e was hastening to the door when she
said, gent y:

“One moment, please.”

Jud e Mason came back instantly.

' “ hat is it, Alicei”

“Before you send for him, I want to say a
word to you,” said Alice faintly.

The judge sat down.

“Certainly, my dear.”

Alice seemed to be struggling with herself for
a while, before she spoke.

At last she said slowly:

“I want—to ask‘your advice—as a—a—
lawyer as well as my father.”

The judge started, and looked decidedly as if
he were uneasy.

“ As a law er. What do you mean, child?
What do you now about lawl’

“ I want to ’ask you,” pursued Alice in the
same hesitating way, “ whether a girl is married
in law if she has no certificate?”

The judge opened his eyes Wide.

“ I don‘t’un erstand you.”

“ I mean can she prove her marriage if her
husband has the certificate, and if he is dead?"
asked Alice more steadily.

The jud e looked at or in a puzzled way.
He then h her brain was wandering, and de-
cided to umor her fantasy.

“It depends,” he answered in a joking way
“on whether the husband left any money, and
whether it was an object to prove it. Of course
a marriage can be proved without any certifi-
cate. That depends on the minister. He can
sign a dozen of them. The roof lies in the
record and the witnesses. As ong as they exist
the marriage can be proved.” _ i

" But suppose,” persisted Alice. “ the girl
does not know the minister who married her,
and can’t find him?”

The ud e laughed.

“I s on d.be sorry to take her case if she had
to prove the marriage. But why do you ask
me all these questions, child! What has got
into your head

Alice had turned paler at his last words, and
answered in a low tone:

“Oh nothing, nothing. I think a good deal
you know, when I lie still-J"

 

The judge jum u briskly.

"Just what I might. Well. don’t vou wor-
ry your head about things on don’t under-
stand. I’m going to fetc rke, and we’ll

Ian a nice little cruise for you in a day or two.

he sea‘breeae will clear all these notions out
of your head. Good-by, child, and above all
things, don’t brood over things you don’t un-
derstand.”

Then he hustled out of the room, and Alice
lay back in her chair, murmuring:

‘What a coward I am! Why didn’t I dare
totell him the truth? He would forgive me.
I’m sure he would. I must do it.”

But she was very weak physicall .and had
been brought up in fear of her in or all her
life, and between the two feelings she began to
weep softly, and then lay quietly watchi the
white sails on the sea til she heard her filltlier’s
voice returning, and with him the deep tones
of Samson Darke.

The sound made her shudder sl' htlv. but
when Darke came in, he looked so andsome,
gentle and considerate. that she could not help
or heart softening toward him.

Be on his part looked better than be had ever

done in his life as be advanced. The one good
spot in Samson’s rugged masterful nature was
his love for Alice, an it brought the tears into
his fierce eyes, and s sob to his deep, melodious
votitie as be scanned her pale face, and said
so t :
- “And ye’vs sent for me at last, Alice. Ye
don’t know how I’ve wearied for ya all this
tEme. But we’ll make it all right now. The
Flash is ready for sea, and ye shall say no lady
ever had a prettier yacht to sail in than yours,
when she goes to sea with Alice aboard.”

Alice smiled at the big honestlooking fellow
as she replied: '

“ You’re verv good to me. Ca in Dorks. I
don’t know if I’m worth it all. at I owe you
something, my father says, and if it will make
you happy, I’ll go.” .

CHAPTER XXVII.
come no “a.

ONCE more the Flash lay strainin at her
anchor under a fresh southwest breeze, ut this
time her surrounde were diflereiit from
what they had been w an we first saw the little
schooner, preparing for a trip.

No longer was the air cold and biting so that
the spray froze on her rigging. The huge cable
still ay coiled away in tier on tier by the fore
mast; but the “checker-planks ” had been re-
moved from her decks, which had been scrubbed
to snowy whiteness, and all her hatches were

open showing an empty hold, and the cabin ‘

and orecastle fitted up as if going on a plea-

sure trip.

' It takes but little alteration to make a first-

class Gloucester trawler into a ver fair acht,

Emitth Flash was one of the best to n the
ee . .

Her crew, too, had been transmoprified
greatly from the rough figures in pea-jackets
and b g sea-boots that used to stamp about her
decksin the winter cruises to the Banks.

They were all attired in a sort of halfdmval
uniform, and looked trim and neat, while their
numbers had been reduced to eight, including
the cook, ample to manage the vessel when no
fishing was required.

All looked smiling and expectant 'at the,

wharf, and Baptiste Landry observed:

“De skee r ’ave good luck at last, Marie.
We beat a Diable du Brouillard, and we
land do big fares of feesh all do season and now
do skeeper get his woman at last.”

“ Ay, ay.” said Murdock McCloud senten-
tiously, “ ’tis well enough, Bateesc, but I’m
thinkin’ the skeeper’s nae see hlithe as he wad be
gin he could only have found one thing.”

“ And what’s that?” asked Jim (Haney. “ Is
it what became of our ground that we never

found again?”
“ Na, he,” returned McCloud with a rather
scornful glance. “ ’Tis easy told why that was

lost, when the men were toomuch frcchtened to
keep their courses and make a good departure.
’Twas all owing to the fog, when we could he
tak the sun. Na, na, if that were all. we’ll find
it next winter by the ice, for that ave follows
the same track the Lord made for it. Na, it’s no"
the lost {cashing-ground, but it’s the thing that
drove us from it.” '

Baptiste and Jim Clancy both crossed them-e

selves iously.

“ "fans the divil himself,” returned Jim posi-
tively. “ It’s not the likes of the skipper with
all his mad ways, to find out the thing that
rung that bell.”

McCloud shrugged his shoulders. He wasa
hardsheaded Presb tedan, not
stitiou, and be h been coglta ng on the sub—
ject of the invisible bell all the summer, without

success.

The Flash had made several voyages to the
Grand Bank since the memorable one in which
they had struck the rich and apparently inex-
litanstible ground, but had never been able to hit

a n.

T ey had sounded in all directions and had
the usual fisherman’s luck but the lost and
had never been found again, though Dar e had
. v ,

van to super- ~

 

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25

 

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searched for it again and again. The had

entered the fog frequently but it bad shi ted its

bearings to other parts of the,Banks and the ice
had vanished from the place ‘5th had expected
to find it.

No longer could they expect to load their ves-
sel in two days when three weeks was the ordi-
nary trip, and_ finally even the indomitable
Samson had yielded to fate and abandoned

, the hope of making a fortune in a single sum—
mer.

“ ’Tis my opinion," remarked McCloud, “that
the skeeper wad rather find out what fun that
be]! than the ground itself. He doosna ike to
be beat and the bell beat him."

“ Whisht, boys, " interrupted Jim Clanc with
a glance at the wharf, “ yonder comes the ridal-
party, bedad. It’s little we’ll have to do with

ells this trip, barrin’ the Belle of Gloucester."

Down to the wharf a carriage was rolling and
the huge form of Darke was visible on the box
beside the coachman.

The gigantic skipper was no longer attired in
the huge pea-jacket and sea-boots, wherein he
generally went afloat, but had shipped white

ucks and a snowy vest with a blue annel coat
that lent an air of more lightness to his burly
frame than it usually exhibited.

As the carriage drew up he leaped off the box
as light as a boy, and opened the door to let out
the portly figure of Judge Mason who looked as
nautical as it was possible for a lawyer to
look.

Then both gentlemen assisted out a slender
figure in white, at sight of which Jim Clancy
observed thoughtfully.

“ ’Tis the bride sure enough, boys, but, be-
dad, she looks more like a corpse."

Then Darke hailed the schooner.

“‘Flash, ahoyl - Send off the boat for the bag-
gage.”

The boat—a large four-oar—had been bought
for the occasion and lay beside the schooner
ready for use.

The two Canadians and the Scotchmen
jum ed in and rowed to the wharf where a
who e arsenal of boxes and trunks was dumped
in and Darke said quietly:

“ Put them aboard first. The lady will sit here
to en oy the breeze a little.”

In eed, Alice Mason looked—as Jim Clancy
hadj expressed it—more like a corpse than a
bri e.

They had laced a large camp-chair for her
‘ on the end 0 the wharf and the old judge hung
over her anxiously saying:

“ What is it, Alice? Do you feel worse?"

“ No,” she murmured faint] . “I shall be
better presently. It‘s only—on y—the sight of
the schooner l”

“ What schooner?" asked the judge. “ Not
the Flash surely? You’re going in her, you
knOW, Alice.”

“ I know it,” she said in a low voice; “but at
first—it bran ht to mind—” ,

“What, A eel”

“Ned!” she answered faintly. “Don't be
an , father. I’ll be over it soon. But he was
losgrgom the-Flash, and you know—”

She had grown so pale that the old man has-
tily said: . . ‘-

‘ We’ll put it ofl. Alice, if . you like. I- was
not wise to consent to this trip while you‘re so
weak. I’ll tell Darke—” .

"No; no,” she whispered, “it would hurt his
feelings. I owe him so much at least. I‘.l be
better. I’m better now.”

Darke had been away handling the bag age,
and new be came back, glowing with healt , to
tell them:

“ The boat will be back in a moment. [sent
in the baggage first that there may be no delay
in getting to sea. How is Alice now. judge?”

“ Better," said Alice herself. “ I’ll be better

,at sea. Captain Darke. I’m never sea-sick. It
braces me up.” u .

“Ay, ay, ’ said Darke, cheeril , “ ye were
born for a sailor’s wife, Alice, an ye shall see
what sort of a home we have for ye, in the
Flash. I’ve had a state-room partitioned ed for
ye on purpose, and ye shall have all the deli ht
of the sea. and none of the hard times we sai ors
have in winter."

Alice smiled faintly. ‘

_ In truth the bracin sea breeze c uld not but
invigorate her. and t ere was some hing in the
large frame of Samson overflowing with health
an Vl'allty that compelled her to be cheerful in
spite of herself. '

The skipper of the Flash was troubled with no

. - l qualms of conscience for the past as he looked at

Alice Mason. _ ‘

He only thought to himself:

“I have her now at last to myself. She no
longer hates me, and I’ll make her love me be-
fore l‘ve done.” 3

It was part of the man’s nature to bequite
confident of success in everything he did. He
had raised himself to riches Without an advan-
tages of education, and therefore he he learned
to despisa education.

One of his chief grud against Ned Nor-

wrmd had _n,the inde nable Sense that. he,

Leonid not qn " shake on. that the youn man
‘ was superior to him in something. and amson
tea him for “ priming himself on a lot of

x

  

 

book-learning that wouldn’t help a man to a
living."

Al that was necessa to his own vocation he
had learned as he he ed it, teaching himself,
and had a contempt for any man that couldn’t
do the like. As he stood by Alice Mason’s
chair now, he fairly glowed with pride in his
success, in his schooner, in the weather and
ever thing else.

“ 00): at her, Alice,” he said proudly. “Isn't
the Flash a beauty! nigh as pretty as you. See
how she parts the waves as she pitches with
hardly a ubble of foam. That’s the bow to cut
the water, judge, and as for beating up to wind-
ward; you wait t 11 we get to sea and I’ll show
you.

Then he got impatient and went to the edge
of the wharf shouting:

“ Boat ahoy there! What are you made of in
there? Is it a lot of tailors ye’ve got in the
Flash that ye can’t heave those boxcs aboard
quicker? Break your backs and start the boat
back. One would think ye were practicing for
a funeral.”

“Married or single,” muttered Murdock Mc-
Cloud, “ the skipper’s as bad in the jaw as ever,
lads, but he doesna swear sae bad."

_Then the boat came to the wharf and Darke
picked u Alice in his arms as if she had been a
baby an carried her down the steps to the boat,
from whence she was safe] transferred to the
quarter-deck of the Flashw ere she lay back in
a large camp—chair queen of all that surrounded
her, while the crew proceeded to get up the an-
chor and hoist the sails with the speed and pre
cision of a first‘class yacht, while the Flash fell
off and stood out to sea, cleaving the waters
with a musical gurgle that made Darke remark
to his fair guest:

“Hark to her speak, Alice. She laughs for
joy to know ye're aboard. Now where shall we
go, my ladv‘.’ You’re commodore."

Alice looked surprised and pleased.

“What? Can I go an where I please?”

“ Anywhere ye sa . ound the world if you
like,” was the stur y answer. “’Tis the first
holiday Samson Darke’s made for thirty years
and he's ready to enjoy it. Shall we go east,
west. north or south?"

“We can’t go west,” said Alice feeling her
spirits rising every moment in the bracing air,
‘ for that’s back again to Gloucester and I’m
tired of the land. Let us go east till we see no
more land. I’ve heard so often about the ‘feel-
ing of being in blue water, I’d like to
try it for once in my life. But don‘t go too far,
as we may be caught in a storm.”

Samson laughed proudly as he looked up at
the taut rigging of the Flash.

“ Ay, ay,.and if we do, it shall not harm ye,
Alice. The schooner’s stood worse storms in
her day than any we’re like to have at this time
of year. Hands by the sheets, boys. Ease her
ofl', Baptiste. Swing round the fore boom.
Easy, lads, easy. There, Alice, now were oing
due east, wing and wing, and ye shall hcfid on
that course til ye want to go back.”

Sweet is the life of a yachtsman at sea, and
no wonder rich men keep yachts as the pleasant
est of all ways of spending moneiy. To the
convalescent Alice the life On hear the Flash
for the rest of that August day was one of such
complete luxury and pleasure that she said to
Samson late in the afternoon:

“ I think I drink in health from you, Captain
Darke. I have eaten three good meals, athin
I’ve not done for weeks and positively Ifeel asi
I were hungry all the time. ’

“ Ay, ay, ’ said Samson cheerily. “ I told ye
I'd make ye all right on the sea. ’Tis the place
for sech folks to grow well and by the time {ye
wake in the morning ye'll be in blue water or
the first time in your life.” ‘

Alice went below early in the evening, to
sleep soundl for the first time in many weeks
and found erself almost welcoming t evoice
of Samson Darke that had once been so hateful
to her ear, when she heard him in the morning
hailing her father on deck as the judge came up
the companion.

“Why is it," she then ht to herself, “that I
seem to be forgetting Ne alread , and be lying
at the bottom of the sea, while am thinking
serioule of marrying the man who hated him
during is life? Yes. but it was only in that he
loved me and wanted to have me. But, oh, if
Ned were only alive."

And then she began to cry quietly to herself
in a wafy that showed that her grief was no
lon arc the violent and absorbing character
the had once threatened her life.

Ah, Ned Norwood, if you do not soon come
back, it ma be too late for even you to win
back a bear that deems itself parted from you
by a grave in the sea. I

The second day out was equall fine with the
first. and Alice was delighted wi h the novelty
of being on blue water at last.

Samson Darke was possessed of a fund of
stories of the sea, that he, told well, and to which
Alice listened with increasing interest till the
time came when they were all alone on the
ocean, and she asked: v

“! Wonder how far bit we are now from
Gloucester, Captain Darkel” ' ~

Bamsop stepped to the'cahin where the log

   

 

came back

slate was hung up, and present!
h s e spread on

with a. chart in hand, which
the skylight before the girl. _

“There,” he said, pointin , “is Gloucester;
there Sable Island; yonder ewfoundland, and
here are we, three hundred and seventy miles
out, Alice, due east as ou told us to steer.”

Alice looked at the c art with interest.

“ And are you sure this is the place?"

“ Quite sure. I’ve worked it by dead reckon-
in , and by the sun and the chronometer. too.
Wi’re not a mile out of the way, I’m certain.”

Alice looked awestricken.

“it’s very wonderful. I don’t see how you
do it. Do all sailors find their way so?”

“If they didn‘t they’d never venture out of
sight of land, Alice." V

“ And what‘s this thing here on the chart all
full of dots?” she asked.

" The Grand Bank."

“The Grand Bank? Why, that’s where you
go for fish, isn’t it?”

I‘  is. 77

“Do on know," said Alice animatedly, “I
would 1i 6 to go there and see it."

“See whati

“The Bank."

“But there’s nothing to see. It’s all water
just the same as this, only most of the year the
fog hangs over it." ~

‘Never mind " said Alice obstinately, “I,
want to see it. on said I was commodore—”
” B‘y1 all means,” returned Samson with his
old 0 eery laugh. “ Ahoy there! Bands by
the sheets! Starboard your helm, Jim. Trim
in the sheets, he 5. Lay her head nor’west,
Jim; and now, iss Alice, we’ll show ye‘how
close the Flash can cut into the wind’s eye."

The chan e between goin wing and wing,
nearly motionless before t e breeze, to the‘
heavy, careeu of the little schooner under her
piled up canvas, rather startled Alice at first, ,
and she was compelled to brace her chair
against the cabin-hatch to keep from sliding}.
away to leeward; but when she had become ;
used to the new motion she felt the excitement,
of contest with the opposing wind, and begah to
laugh with pleasurable excuement. '

As for the judge. he was delighted with every-
thing he saw, and especially with the marvel-'
ous change in his daughter. _ '

Already he saw her married toDarke, and
began to congratulate himself on having held
on against her “silly, romantic ideas ” in re;
gardstollzeanorwood, when the lookout cried;

‘ ai o. ‘ u

CHAPTER XXVIII.
'rns: STRANGE YACHT.

IT was the first time Alice had heard the cry
so familiar at sea on lon voyages. ,

The day before, the ad been in the midst ‘
of sails, so common t ey were not worth the
announcement and that day they had
alone, out of the track of commerce, for the
first time. , '

“ Whereaway?" cried Darke, peering out un- .
der the boom. ,

“Dead ahead, sir, close-hauled on the same
tack.” said Peny, who was lookout.
to be a schooner, sir."

Dnrke obseived rather proudl to Alice;
‘ “Now we’ll show you when e Flash can do” ,
if she’s it t) it. I’ll overhaul that fellow
ahfiad be me sunset.” '

e
the F ash slight y so as to give a betier view
from the quarter deck when he gave Alice the -
glass. saying: i

“There, in lady, ve can see for yourself
now and mar us over on) her." ,
Alice looked through the glass and beheld far .
away a little black dot almost hidden by the .

 

sea with n c‘ond of white canvas swelling above, ,1

ii:| and exolaimed:

“Oh, what a pretty boat.
if she would 0 over every minute.
please, Captain arke.”

Samson took a long look. .

“’Tis a schooner and I think a yacht,” be
said. “We’ll not overhaul *her as easily as I -
thought, but I’ll bet on the Flash yet. I’ve out-i V‘
sailed yachts are now.” ‘

But she looks“ I

“ Are yachts so Very swift then?” asked aha, ‘  .,
“Some are and some aren’t, but p11 be}, on i- I
‘the Flash, yet.” returned Samson, in a boasting " i 3

we . ,
libs-n he called to his crew to set the big stay-
sail, and under its irfluence the Flash careeued
over till she buried her lee rail, rushing through
the water at increased speed. I.
An hour’s sailing of this sort and Samson took
a look through the glass. ' ‘ I
The strange schooner looked the same as ever .
only a little more distant and Alice observed '
rather maliciously: .
“She sails very fast doesn't she?” a,
“Yes. yes,” assen . Samson, with the ghost 
of a smile, for the man hated to be beaten on bit
own element. “ Of course she’s a yacht. I don’t V
say the Flash can beat every boat that swims.
Yon’s a tidy racer.” '

So it seemed after another hour’s race when 

the hull of the stran er, had disa

p from ' I
view entirely, and t e judge sai , in his 

nautical manner:

I
.t l w

 

“ seems 

got up the lass and altered the course of,  ,7

Look; >~

     
  
  
   

t

,..

i.‘

26

The Fog/Devil:

 

 

“That fellow has the heels of us, eh, Darke?”

Samson was nearly growling an oath in his
displeasure, when the stranger’s slim white line
of canvas suddenly grew broader, as she changed
her course and Alice cried:

“ Look, look she has two great sails like ours!
What sails! No wonder she goes so fast. 0h,
she’s coming this way."

The girl was looking through the glass, and
saw the stranger turn on her heel and come
racing down toward them.

“She’s going to speak us,” said Darke. “I

, wonder what she wants? Probably takes usfor

another acht in the same club.”
They eld their course onward, the strange
acht coming down to meet them like a race-
orse, her white sails growing more and more
distinct every moment, till at last, when she
was half a mile off, she fired a little gun and

_ hoisted her colors.

.4 -

“.

 

 

 

   
 
  
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
 
   
   

V i

I

p ,

y

i is the yacht

' "her rich and eccentric owner, who was

Samson flushed slightly as he saw them.

“I can give ye the hunting,” he said, “ but
I don’t trade in those pop-guns. I hope ye don’t
think I ought to have brought one to sea, Miss
Alice?”

“ Oh, no,” she said, for she saw he was not a
little mortified at the suwrior beauty and trim-
ness of the stranger. “ 6 poor folk of Glouces-
ter can‘t afford such things, Captain Darke, and
I don’t want them. I dare say the Flash is a
better boat in a storm.”

Samson brightened up immediately.

“In a storm? Ay ay. I’ll back er against
farming that floats in a storm, Alice. Yon gay

ow would turn the turtle a dozen times be-

, fore the Flash would settle to her bearings.”

“ Turn the turtle?” echoed Alice, uzzled.

“Capsize, I mean. Not but w at yon’s a
good boat. Set the colors, Baptiste. We’re not
ashamed of old Gloucester.”

The colors ware set and the strange yacht
raced down opposite them, showing a long,
.dark, snake like all and a pile of snow can-
vas above it, though she had no staysai set,
and only her ordinary canvas.

Assoon as she was abeam of the Flash she
were around, laying her head for the schooner,

close under her stern and ranged up

’_ alongside and 11-166, at a pace that showed she

could do what she liked with the pride of Glou-
cester, as far as speed went.

A gentleman in 'It buttons, with a general
aspect of “ yacht ub "about him, made his ap-
pezrance b the weather quarter-rail and called
. e,

on toDar .

' “ Schooner ahoyl What schooner’s that!”
“The Flash, of Gloucester,” said Darke.

“ What schooner’s that?”

The gentleman in buttons did not immediate-
] answer, for he turned his head to say some-
‘  g to a person behind him, and Darke got

. an :
. , ‘ What schooner’s that?” he roared. “Man-

ners is minners, afloat and ashore. What’s
your name and where are you from?”
I The gentleman in buttons raised his cap.
' “ I beg youiisardon, I’m sure,” he said. “This
onpareil, of New York. I’ve a
man on board that recognized your sail several
miles 03. Housed to be on the Flash, he tells

. me.”

' Darke turned deadly pale and glanced at Alice,
who sat there listening innocently.
He suspected at once who the man was, the
more so as he had heard of the Nonpare‘ii and
ways
into some scrape, in one part of the world or
another. .

.“ Ay, ay,” he answered as indiflerently as he
could manage to speak. ‘ I’ve no doubt of it.
Many‘ men have sailed with Samson Darke, and
never regretted it.”

The gentleman in buttons cautioned his man
at the wheel in a low tone: '

“ Keep her of! a. little and luff, Stevens.

, Wehfie running ahead of her. She’s not a
yac .
I Samson colored at the words, but as it was a
self-evident thing that the Nonpareil could out-
sail him easily, he made the best excuse he could
. by saying: ,
, “Ay. ay, we don’t pretend to be a yacht, but
,we can hold our own in heavy weather with the
best of them, I’d have you know.”

The yacht commander smiled slightly.

“ I’ve no doubt of it. Excuse me, Captain

‘Darke, but I’ve a curious question to ask. Are
you married or not?"

‘ Samson turned urple and then white as a
sheet with re e as e roared: \

“ What in ades is that to you, you jack-a
dandy gachtsman? Mind your own affairs and
sheer o where you belong.”

\ -' He sprung into the main rigging with one
joot on the rail and shook his fist at the yacht.

“ Is .that what you came 'down to speak to
me for?” he bellowed. “ You pusillanimous.
white-livered son of a sea-cook. Lay me aboard

, that yacht, Jim Clancy, so that I can choke the

' life but of my fine gentleman.”

,Jim, obedient to the order, let the Flash fall

I ' of! the wind so that her jib-boom went perilous.
. Lifeless over the waist of the Nonpareil as if the

pper were fully determined to run her
‘uboard. -

l
1.,

' ' The captain of the yacht astounded at the sud-

’ i/
' ’ ,4 ‘s

 _ . .1: . 

 

den ebullition of unprovoked fury had only
time to shout:

“Hard'upl 'Let go the sheets! What’s the
matter with this man? Is be crazy?”

The Nonpareil fell 01! just in time to escape a
dangerous collision, but the jib-boom of the
Flas swept over her stern as she wore round,
and before any one on board had time to under-
stand what was going on, Darke had run for-
ward along the bowsprit over the quarter-deck
of the yacht and saw beneath him, Ned Nor-
wood, in the same uniform as the owner, look-
ing up at'him.

‘Curse your lubberly carcass." roared the
now perfectly insane captain, “ ’tis you come
back to plague and rob me if ye can, is it.Z Back
to your hole ye white-livcred our and cease to
trouble one who’s not for the like of you.”

It was but for a minute he stood there raging
in a frenzy of jealousy at sight of the man he
loathed with the intensity of all his feelings.
The next the breeze caught the sails of the
gacht and she be an to leave the Flash, while

amson, ale an foaming at the mouth, ran
beckon t e deck and realized that Alice had
seen and heard all, as he went aft, his face
transformed to the demoniacal look it wore when
he was furiously angry.

In a moment his iron will had resumed its
sols-control, and he said hastily to Alice and the

u e:

“ bega thousand pardons for my violence.
but you don’t know the customs of the sea as I
do, and that man intended a. gross and deadl
insult to ye both. He saw Alice on the doc
here, and made that impertinent inquiry on
purpose to insult us. He is notorious for just
such conduct, because he thinks he can do as
he pleases, beings. rich man and owninga paper.
But I’ll teach him—I’ll teach him, if he dares
come alongside of us again. Judge, I must ask
you to take Alice below till this is over. I am
obliged to use strong language at sea, or the men
would not understand me.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said Jud e Mason in
a great hurry. “ Alice, my dear, le ’5 go down.
Oh this is infamous l”

no hurried Alice downstairs, the girl looking
frightened and bewildered, while Darke mut-
tered to himself, grinding his teeth:

“ Curse ye, Ned Norwood, ye haven’t got
her yetl”

He seemed to be put to his wits by the sudden
apparition of the man he knew to be legally
married to Alice alreaséiy. and to be the
only man living that held 9 proofs in his hands.

Only a little while before he had been content
to let Ned Norwood alone, and trust to the
clan ter of accidents to keep him away till
be ad married Alice. Now he Was set on
killing Norwood, and marrying Alice at any
hazar

“She doesn’t know yet,” he said to himself,
as heraced the deck and watched the yacht
hove in the distance. “If I can only get
her to s ore— Ay, I have it. Into the fog when
we it t? the Banks, and then, N 'd Norwood,
“00 ' yr

He saw that by his sudden explosion he had
«thoroughly astonished and confounded the
yacht-owner, who thought he had to deal with
a madman, and was not likely to try any more
conversations.

“If he comes again when they’re below,” he
Ebolught, “ I’ll swear boldly I am married. The

00
her husband he won’t expose her to disgraco for
bigamy. Oh, wh Were they on deck? Why
di I lose my hon like that?”

He saw the“ yacht hovering ales
and fro to avoid drawing ahead, and
to himself:

“on, if I only had a gun and dared sink her.
Why ?are we not in the days of the old pirates
again

He took his glass and eyed the Nonpareil
closely. She was not over three cable-len the
away and he could see the owner, a tall, slen er,
handsome fellow, with the devil-may-care look
of a rich man who enjoys his money.

He could see Ned Norwood, too, though he
would not have recognized him had he not seen
him close before. '

Ned was altered very much, thin and very
brown, as if he had been tanned in the sun. His
face was clean-shaven, save for a small mus-
tache. and he wore a sort of uniform which
completely altered his looks.

He seemed to be on arfooting of confidence
with the yacht-owner. for they were talking
together very earnestly apart from the men,
and it jum d to Darke’s mind:

“The f low’s sailing-master of the yacht.
That’s how he, comes to be there. I wonder
what he’ll do next.”

He was not left to sufler long in suspense, for
very soon after the yacht hoisted her light sails
and began to leave the Flash at a pace that
showed her to be a wonderfully swift sailor,
keeping the same course as the schooner. ;

Samson watched her, with lowering brow, till
she had got about a mile ahead, when he saw
her take in her light sails again and begin to
yaw to and fro, With theeVident intention of

yawing to
e thought

 

not losip sight of the Flash, maintaining her
placaw'i _ perfect ease. . ..

N. i.. I. , 4

 

 N,‘ , ,‘\

 

oes not know it yet, and if he thinks I am,

 

Samson sailed steadily on all the long after-
noon, and at evening observed before him Wm:
much satisfaction the dark fog-bank brooding
over the water, that told him he had neared the
Grand Bank.

“Now,” he muttered, “ unless you’re a much
smarter man than I take you to be, I’ll give ye
the slip, Mister Nonparei .”

He gaVe orders to steer straight into the fog
and call him if the yacht gave any signs of ap-
proaching them, and then went down to the
cabin to supper, where he found the 'udge and
Alice looking as if they wished they ad never
come to sea.

But he had made up his mind what course to
pm‘sue, so he told them that the insulent owner
of the Nonpareil seemed set on dogging them to
play some trick, but that he (Samson) had made
up is mind, if he came closer, to make him re-
pent his impudence. '

“But how?” asked the judge, a hast. “ Sure-
1% we’re not in a state of war, an , if we were,
t is vessel is not armed.”

Samson laughed grimly.

“ Don’t you believe it, judge. I’ve got a few
shooting-irons hid away for seals and such.
He’ll get all he wants. But don’t ye worry
about that. We won’t have any fight. The
days of fl hting are over at sea. Its only to
give him t ie slip; that’s all. There’s no aw
against a fellow hanging on to the skirts of
another, and I suppose he thinks it’s fun to
annoy a man not as rich as himself, just because
there s a lady aboard, and he wants to show off.
But I’ll be even with him some time.”

He was glad to see that Alice seemed to sym-
pathize with him heartily, and had no suspicion
of the real state of things, for she was quite
charming at table, and they at along splendid-
ly till Jim Clancy whispered darsely down the
com anionway]:

“ kipper, o , skipper!"

Darke excused himself and went on deck, to
find that darkness was closing in and the fog
ahead close to them.

“ Where’s that cursed yacht?” he asked.

“ Into the fog beyant, sur. She wint in just
as I hailed ye. ’

Samson considered a moment and then gave
the order:

“ Luff and run along the edge of the fog to
the west. If we can’t see her, she can’t see us.
We’ll give her the slip. Hard also there. Put
her on the lport tack and run west by sout ”

The Fine ' tacked and ran in the desired di-
rection for nearly an hour more when it had
become uite dark and Samson hauled his wind

again an ran into the fog where be lowered -

his sails and came to anchor just as if he were
on a fishing expedition in eighty fathoms water
and a slight swell.

“Now, ’he said, “let my fine yachtsman find
me if he can.”

The fog closed in on them dense and dam
and all was silenm around them when he to]
his crewto o to below and w ed aft to the
quarter-doc .

The red light of a cigar told him that the
judge was there and he laid to Mason in a low
voice: _

“ Where’s Alice?”

“ Below, asleep. She gets tired very easily.
What’s the matter that you’ve come to an an-
chor, Darke! Anything wrong?”

Samson drew him to the waist. ,

“Come forward,” he whispered. “I don’t
want her to hear. Judge, Ned Norwood’s
aboard that infernal yacht. ’ ,

The ’udge started violently and nearly let his
cigar rop, muttering:

“ Confound him. Just as everything was
going so nicely. It’s too bad. How could he

ave got away from Havana? That oificer
promised he should be imprisoned."

“ He’s out. I saw him myself. Now, judge,
one of two thin s has to be done. Either we

've up the whoe thing as a bad job and let

lice marry the worthless uper—’

“Notto be thought of,’ said the judge, de-
cidedly. “Not for a moment. She has prom-
ised to marry you and she’s got to keep her
word. It’s even a nice legal question if you are
not married already. You answered all the

uestions, and she would have done so, but for

t at unfortunate fit of sickness.”
Darke listened hungrily.‘
“ I’m glad to hear you say that, judge, very
lad. It will help me in a scheme have.
but hound will never leave us now till he
knows that Alice and I are fast married. Then
if he comes round, I’ll tear him limb from limb.”

The man’s eyes glared and he trembled with f
assion, even while he kept his voice cautiously ‘

owered. -
“ Curse him i” he growled. “ She would have

.had me if he had not comerround with his boy’s

{lace wand college airs. I’ll kill him yet, curse
im! ’
“ But what are we to do?” asked Mason fret-
fully. “ I’m willing to do anything to help but
here we are out at sea.”
“ Listen.” said Darke earnestly. “We are
within a few hours’ sail of the island of New.

foundland. Supposr I run her in and we goto ,.
the nearest priest. Can you coax bottom,

rent?“ I V ., /

  

 

 

\

The Fog Devil.

 

 

,——-——.———._..,I

“I think I can,” answered the judge rather i

‘ hesitatingly, “ butwe must keep the secret. If
3 once she were to get an inkling of the fact that
i Mr. Norwood is alive, nothing would tempt
her. I never Saw such blind infatuation. One
might almost believe they had been secretly
married.” .

Samson felt the cold sweat stand on his
body. but be affected to laugh. _

“What an idea! That is imposmble. She
was watched too close for that. Besides it
would make no difference. They’ve never lived
together, and the marriage might be broken
mi htn’t it, judge?”

a listened hungrin for the answer.

“Yes,” said the judge slowly, “I suppose it
might, but I don’t know I’d care to do it. A
girl’s reputation can’t be trifled with. But it’s
ndo use talking of that. It’s absurd, the very
i as. ‘

“ Absurd! the very idea!” echoed Darke.
 And just at that moment as if to clinch the

words:
1 r “ Ola ' CLANGI! CLANG!!!”
‘2 The inVisible bell sounded aloft.

CHAPTER XXIX.
, AT LAST.

“MY God, what’s thatl” cried the judge with
a violent start. _ . ,

Samson gralsped his arm tightly, and his eyes

lured sava e .
g “ It’s he ‘3me at his devilish tricks,” he

-‘ growled, half to himself. " He‘ll not escape me
l this time. There’s no ice now."

Then they heard the hasty muffled tramp of

“ feet on the ladder of the forward hatch, and up

tumbled the crew of the Flash in a body, talk-

. ing in low excited tones.

4 ‘The bell! the hell!”

“ The Fog Demon again!”

Samson whispered to the judge:

“Go below, quick. Calm her if she wakes.
Tell her ’tis a passing ship. Be off. I’ll attend
to them.”

Then he went forward among the men and
said scornfully:

“ Ye cowards. Haven’t we beat that bell be-
fore, and can’t we do it again? ’Tis a trick and
I know it——”

“ Cling! CLANG! CLANG! ! l”

The bell sounded again much nearer, and

. Samson added: , .

‘ “ ’Tis a vessel, the yacht I doubt not. She is

l trying to fri hten us. Heave up the anchor

l and make sail ively. She shall not cut us down
at our own round.” _

The men ew to their work With an alacrity
that showed how welcome was the order, and
the sails were hoisted with a speed they had
never felt save in a ave emergency. _

The Windlass clan ed like mad, and in a few
moments they felt the tu of the anchor loav-
ing its bad, and the Flash ell off under the light
air and began to move to the southwest out of

, the fog as they all supposed.

' But the mist only seemed to become thicker
as they advanced, till Jim Clancy on the look-
out suddenly yelled:

“ Hard a-starboard! ’Ware the yacht l”_

The next moment out of the mist, With lights
at her mast-heads and all along_ the rails, the
ghostly form of the yacht made its appearance
gliding across the bow of the schooner.

Samson Darke was close to the wheel, and as
Baptiste triodrto obey Jim’s hail, the skip er of
the Flash seized the spokes with a hand 0 iron,
growling:

“Keep her steady, curse you! We’ll cut the

, cursed trickster down.”

He knew that his own vessel was built with
great stren h to resist the storms and ice of the

, winter, whi e the yacht was sure to be lightly
constructed for speed. . I

With a grim smile on his face he held his

course straight on in the fog, aiming straight for
the waist of the yacht. _ - ' .
r In another moment, high up in the tops of the
beautiful schooner clanged the bell which
had frightened them all so much, and Darke
shouted: ,

“ Aha! I’ve found ye at last!”

The“ the jib-boom of the Flash passed be-
tween the masts of the stranger, there was a
crashing of timbers, followed b a cry of hor—
‘ror fmm an on board the stricken vessel and
Darke left the wheel and ran forward, shout-

") 2

{3" Now yt’ll play demon on me, will ye? Go
to the bottom, curse ye l” ‘

He picked up a haudspike as he went, and
rushed to the bow of his own vessel to find the
jib-boom broken short off. the Jlb hangin in
folds, while the Nonpareil and Flash dri ted
hel lessly together down the wind.

0 men of the yacht were running to “yd
fro as if panic-stricken, shouting out contradic-
tory orders to each other,
3.1th saw Nod Norwood and the owner of the
? Nonparell trying to restore order“

I L In a mement he devil rose up in the soul of
unison Darke, and with a bound he was on the
‘ rail of the Flash, whirling his handspike and

 

 

  

 

"i‘~31s\

and in the midst of it,

 

' shouting; I s , ‘_
~ : "1’" 3°” 1° now, Ned Norwood! Come on‘

,H‘. ‘. :7 _VJ'._.,U

like a man, and I’ll show ye Samson Darke can i
wipe the deck with ye!”

“ Liar!” cried Ned as fiercely as himself,
” you’ve played me false, and you’re a coward-
ly murderer! Where’s Alice?"

“In my ship, my wife,” cried Darke in an
exulting tone. “Go to the bottom where ya
belong, ye white-handed lubber~"

He was interrupted by a wild shriek from the
quarter-deck of the Flash and looked round in
his surprise for a moment. There stood the
‘udge and Alice, roused by the shock of the col-
iision, and he knew they must have heard all.

At that moment a puff of wind struck the
Nonpareil and a crashing of timbers followed.
Samson saw that the vessels were drifting apart
and saw too that his scheme of vengeance had
failed.

The Nonpareil was cut open nearly to the
water’s edge, but not quite. She could not
stand any heavy sea, but might float forever in
the calm that then existed.

Realizing in a moment that exposure was cer-
tain, and rendered frantic by the sight of Ned
Norwood, the giant gathered all his strength
into one mighty leap and sprung for the decks
of the yacht, just as a secon puff of wind
struck her and heeled her over from the Flash.

That ulf was his ruin. But for it, heiwould
have gained the deck. As it was, he missed his
aim and struck the slippery side of the schooner,
goin down like a shot into the deep water un-
der t e two schooners.

A moment later he felt himself to be attacked
by hundreds of cruel snappingJ mouths, and he
fought desperately to gain t 9 surface. Too
we! he knew what had happened!

He was in the midst of a scher a hungry
(llogjish, where all his Mighty strong! was use-

638.
He felt them tearing away all over him, and
roared aloud in his agony, leaping half out of the
water and shriekin for help in vain.
Only once did 9 rise, with the ravenous
geatures hanging on him like bull-dogs, and
en—
Down he went and no human eye ever saw
Samson Darke again.

 

CHAPTER XXX.
CONCLUSION.

EVEN Ned Norwood was paralyzed with
horror when he saw the sudden and horrible
end of his relentless foe. But for the restrain-
ing hands of his men he was ready to leap in to
rescue Samson, only hearin the man’s s risks,
and fanc ing that be con d not swim. He
shouted or a rope, and threw over the end of
one of the halyards, but it was too late, and as
he red down into the dark waters he saw the
furious creatures fighting on the surface, mad
with hun r for 9 fragments, and realized
what had appened.

Then he turned to his friend, the owner of the
yach and said in tones of horror:

“ God, Mr. Stannard, the dog-fish have
torn him to pieces.”

“ Better him than you or me,” returned Stan-
nard. “I believe the man must have been a
maniac to try and run us down. See, his
schooner’s bow is all stove in."

Then the wind drove the two vessels a little
further apart in the fog, and Ned shouted:

“ Schooner ahoyl Any damage done to you?”

“God knows,” returned a plaintive Irish voice,
“it’s meself don’t. The skipgiiar’s gone to blazes,
and that’s all I know. 0h oly Mother! why
did we ever come into the fog after that mur-
thering bell?”

“ Look to your bows,” cried Ned, anxiously.
“Your cutwater’s all stove in, and I’m afraid
she’s leaking. ”

Jim uttered a‘shout to his mates:

“Holy fathers! thexFlash is sinkin’ and we’ll
be all ’aten by the dog-fishes. Man the pump,
for the love of the Vir ”

And the clang of the instrument followed al-
most immediately while Ned examined the
galping wound in t e ide of the Nonpareil and
to d Stannard gravely:

“ We’ve only six inches left between us and
death. She’s cut down to within that distance
of the water line, and if it comes on to blow,
salt won’t save us.” '

Stannard was‘one of those reckless young
millionaires who rather court danger than
otherwise, and he answered li htly:

“Never mind. If she goes own we can take
to the boats. We're not far from the shore, I
reckon.”

“Too far to make a sure thing of it with the
Banks swarming With dog-fish,” said Ned grave
ly, “ and besides that I’m afraid that schooner’s
going down too.”

“Serve her right,” returned Stannard in a
vindictive tone. “She ought to go down, com-
ing running into a man on urpose. I wish I’d
never come near that me. fool‘of a skipper,
Norwood.” _

“ He’s gone,” answered Ned, “but there are
those aboard who are the cause of all his
wickedness without any intent of theirs, and
333,0“! others a woman.

heavens, yes. t that,” said the

 

I
young yachtsinan hastily?

.1 \h 

  

Takeahoatand y

  

go aboard, Norwood. If she needs help, give
it, of course." 3

So Ned took the large comfortable boat of ,
the Nonpareil, built on purpose for stability in ‘
any sea, rather than for speed, and rowed over
to the Flash, passing round under her bow to
examine the injuries there. ' “,

As he had expected, he found these serious. u
The low speed at which the Flash had been gu- ,' , '
ing and the fact that the Nonpareil was ill“! ‘I l
With great strength by her owner had combiner; ‘
to divide the injuries of the collision more ('qlli.i
1y than is generally'the case in such afl’nirs. ~ ;

Usually the vessel that goes bow on escapes '
severe damage and the one that is struck gels ~ 
the worst of it. ‘,

At hi h speed this is certain to be the case. . ;
But ift ebow be at all weak or if the blow .‘i
come oblique]; at low speed the injury is some‘ I,
times reverse . "

The Flash had managed to strike the side of C T
the Nonparcil in such a way that her cutwater »
was stove in and one of her anchors had been
driven from the cathead to which it was hang- ' V I,
log and swung in under the water line, out-- \
ting a large jagged hole into which the water . 1
was pouring fast. I -, '

Ned saw that the Flash must fill in less than i y A“
an hour, and he rowed hastily round to the‘
EB!) way, climbed aboard and found the men

ar at work at the pum s while Jud 0 Mason ' .
and his daughter stood c inging toget or, as if V ,
bewildered and terrified to the at e co.

Ned touched his hat to the judge easily. 5 " z
“I come from the yacht alon side, sir "ho‘ , .35
said. “Your vessel Will not float ong. fou’d , 1!.
best 1pm: the lady in my boat and come aboard 
the onpareil.” v,’

“Thank you, sir,” returned the 'udge in I I
ngiévojiis way. “ You are—Captain arke il— 1
a — .
“ Captain Darke’s dead, sir ” retorted Ned in
his harshest tone. “ He went down beside the V ’
very vessel he tried to sink and Mrs. Darke is a.
widow.” \

He ke with intense bitterness for he boy
lieved t at Alice had played him false.

The jud stammered out:

“ Mrs. arke, sir? I do, not quite understand
you. Darke was not—not married.” ,

“ Not married 7" echoed Ned, his face lightin
up. “Not married. He swore he as
your daughter—~"

Then taming to Alice who had shrunk back,
pagadand trembling on her father’s arm, he
a e : ‘ x

“You ma thank God, Judge Mason, that
you did not orce this hel le girl to commit
bigamy. Come to me, A! cc. From henceforth
no concealment. The time has gone by for that.
Judge, this lady is my wife.” I ‘

And before the judge could anya word the
lovers were clasped in each others arms mur-
muring: “At last.” ‘ ,

They had for otten all about the leak, the
sinking vessel, t e sea swarming with hungry
monsters. . .1,

Norwood only remembered that Allen was .. i ,
true still. ~

Alice only thought that Ned was alive.

A few more words and our story is done.

The Cuban rebellion colla as all the world
knows, and in the final batt 0 Don Juan do Salu-
da, after a desperate but unavailing resistance
was obliged to flee the field and make for the
plantation of his father. /

He found Norwood there unwilling to leave
Isidora with-in sound of the conflict that was
still raging. .

The young Cuban waljstill unwounded and
he told his friend hastily: .
_ “ All is lost. Flee while' you can. Stannard
is waitin at Sangre Cristo. .For me and lu-
dora we ave other work to do. There is yet a
chance in the interior.” . '

Norwood, onl too lad to be relieved of the
responsibility 0 his autiful but ver fission;
charge, managed to slip-off Without i d fiber
adieu and rode like a madman on a 3 Ian orso r
for the bay of Sangre Cristo. ,

When he got there he found Stannard’s yacht
at anchor With her sails loosened, all ready to ‘
trifi and be ofl. I

e got aboard in the character ofano to.
but as soon as he introduced himselwa ano.
nard as the correspondent who had made so
much trouble for the Spaniards he was welcomed I
with open arms. , ,

Stannard was _on the lookout for just such
men, and immediately offered him a position on.
the yacht as sailing-master, private secretary,‘
and half a dozen other, capacities, entailing a 3
great deal of work, but drawing proportionate

pav. .

The Cuban insurrection having collapsed all
of Stannard’s interest want with it, for e was,
above all things, a live owner of a live news-
papelr vzho never troubled himself about what ‘
was as .

He sailed for the States as soon as it became
Elam that the Cuban bonds in which he had. I

,speculatin were irremedlalily gone, and}

said to Norw a! they went;n ' .

“Nousocrylng over ilt ilk. But  ,
afaoomopoor devils leftontheBau‘kb, i“

  
  
  
  

 

.4

1

i

h»)

‘/

 

 

 

I

 2 csca

 

‘

 

 

28

I The Fog‘Devil.

 

wiring about in the fog after Spanish vessels.
emust take them 01! or they’ll be adjudged
pirates.”

It was in search of the remnant of Saluda’s
companions that the Nongareii was sailing when
she came across the Fine , and Norwood recog-
nized the cut of the schooner in a moment from

' a peculiarly shaped fore-topsaii she carried, and
. as ed Stannard if he might not run down to
1 speak her.

He had the idea of finding it Darke was mar-
ried to Alico, in which case he had made up his
mind to hide his identity and disappear for-
ever.

He had told his story to Stannard before, and
the young millionaire had promised him what
how he could give. ,

, hen he received such a. savage reply, Stan-
nard was at first tempted to resort to physical
force to resent the insult, for the yacht was
heavily manned for her size, and had not been
cruising in Cuban waters Without being prepar-
ed to resist annoyance.

But when Ned suggested that he had seen a
woman on board, and. that such a course would
be likely to harm her, Stannard saw the point
and assented.

It was necessary to
Darke without exposing
of Alice.

That was the whole problem.

“If she has married him," said Stannard, in
his ractical wa “ it’s no use crying over spilt
mil , N orwood. on don’t want to prosecute her
for bi amy and make a scandal, and you don‘t
.want er back, either. You just slide off on the
quiet and let me manage the thing.”

It was the bell of the Nonpareil, sent to the
mast’head on a whip. and run there, that had
:so startled the men on the Fias . It was Stan-
nard’s ob’ect to rouse their superstition and
frighten t em out of the fog. if p.>Ssihie, so that
he might ban on their skirts till the question
was answe . He remembered how Saluda
had used the trick with effect.

Unluckily, he had lost track of the Flash in
the fog. and had come across her, aswe have
seen, just in time to be run into.

From the time Ned announced that Alice was
his wife, the judge seemed to be overcome and

at an answer out. of
orwood to the View

' thunderstruc

The ‘same man who on shore would have
treated Ned with haughty superiority, found
the tables turned, now 1. ey were at sea.

The onng man was master there, and when
he took'Alice under his arm. saying. “This is
1122; wife, sir,” Judge Mason could only ejacu<

“ God bless my souil"

'They said no more till Alice was safe in the
\boat, with the judge in the stem-sheets, rowing
to the Nonpareil. when he mana ed to get out:
. I “You say you’re married. are is the cer-
fiflcater'

“Here next my heart,” said Ned, “ where I’ve ‘

ke it all this time.”

lice nestled up a little closer to him and

‘whisgfired:

- “ Ned, if I’d had it, we should both have
d a great deal of doubt and misery."

“ ever mind," he answered. “It’s all over

now. Here’s the yacht.”

 

The Flash did not sink, after all, no more did
the Nonpareii.

The fishing-schooner, being light, sunk till her
rail touched the water’s edge, and then hung,
unable to sink any further.

I All night long, under direction of young Nor-
wood, the crews of both vessels were IFetching
,up the hole in the side of the Nonpare' , so that
the acht could go to sea again, and they man—
age to do it so eflectually, that she was able to

" make the trip to Gloucester itself, where she
arrived two days later, towing the water-logged
Flash behind her.

Ned and Alice are happy now, and Ned is 1

known as the best correspondent on the New
York Growler, and Judge Mason weakened as
soon as he found that his son—in-law drew a
salary of six thousand dollars a year.

THE END.

 

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61 CAPTAIN SEAWAIF. Ned Buntiine...  100
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1 A HARD CROWD. 3g Philip S. Warne........  me
2 THE DARE-DEVIL. y Col. P. In ham. . loo
3 Krr CARSON, JR. By Buckskin In... we
4 THE KIDNAPPER. B Phili S. Warne. we
5 THE FIRE FIENDs. y A. . Morris... .. 10c
6 WILDCAT Bon. By Edward L. Wheeler . . . . . .. loo
7 DEATH-NOTCH, THE DESTROYER. Oil Coomes.. 100
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9 HANDY ANDY. By Samuel Lover  . . . . .. 10c
10 VIDOCQ, THE FRENCH POLICE SPY. By himself. 100
11 MIDsHIPMAN EAsY. By Capt. Maryatt. .:.  10c
12 THE DEATH-SHOT. B Capt. Mayne Reid... . 10c
13 PATHAWAY. By Dr. . H. Robinson..  .. . 10c
11 THAYENDANEGEA, THE SCOURGE. Ned Buntline. 10¢
15 THE TIGER SLAYER. B Gustave Aimard.... . 10c
16 THE WHITE WIZARD. y Ned Buntline. .. . .  10c
17 NIGHTsHADE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson . . . . . . . .. 10c
18 THE SEA BANDIT. By Ned Buutline . . . . . . . . .. 10c
19 RED CEDAR. By Gustave Aimard. . . . . . .. . .. . 101:
:30 THE BANDIT AT BAY. By Gustave Aimard.. ,. 10c
21 THE TRAPPER‘E DAUGHTER. Gustave Aimard . 10(-
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23 THE RED WARRIOR. By Ned Buntline . . . . .. . 10c
24 THE PRAIRIE FLOWER. By Gustave Aimard.. 10c
25 THE GOLD GUIDE. By Francis Johnson... .. . . 10¢
28 THE DEATH TRACE. By Francis Johnson .. . 101:
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31 THE NEw YORE SHARP. By Albert .Aiken.. 10c

32 Know or YALE. By John D. Vose . . . . . . . .. 1

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49 THE WOLE DEMON. By Albert W. Al
50 JACK RAnnrr. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr .
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52 DEATH TRAILER. By Wm. F. Cody
53 SILVER SAM. By Col. Delic- Sara
54 ALWAYS ON HAND. Bv Philip S. W
55 THE SCALP HUNTERE. B Ca t. Ma eR

  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  

 

 

96 DOUBLE DEATH. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker... 10c
97 BRONZE JACK. By AlbertW Aiken ..  .. 1
98 THE ROCK RIDER. By Capt. F. Whittaker.. .
99 THE GIANT RIFLEMAN. By Oil Coonies
100 THE FRENCH SPY. B A. P. Morris . . . . . . . ..
101 THE MAN FROM NEW ORE. By A. W. Aiken.
102 THE MAsEED BAND. By George L. Aiken ..
103 MERLE. THE MUTINEER. Col. P. Ingraham..
104 MONTEEUMA, THE MERCILEss. By Ingrahani.
105 DAN BROWN or DENVER. By Joe. E adger..
106 SHAMUs O‘BRIEN. By Col. Delle Sara . .  1
1177 RICHARD TALBOT or CINNAEAR. BV Aiken. ..
DUEE or DIAMONDS. By Fred.Wliittaker.
109 CAPTAIN KYD. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
110 THE SILENT RIPLEMAN. By H. W. Herbert .
111 THE SMUGGLER CAPTAIN. By Ned Buntline..
112 JOE PHENIx, PRIVATE DETECTIVE. By Aiken.
113 THE SEA SLIPPER. By Prof. J. H. III rahani.
114 THE GENTLEMAN FBDMVPIXE. By P. .Warne
115 THE SEVERED HEAD. By Capt. F.Whittaker.
116 BLACE PLUME. THE DEVIL or THE SEA. By Col.
P.1ngraham..   .. ., .
117 DASHING DANDY. By- Major Dangerfield Burr.
118 THE BURGLAR CAPTAIN. ByEJ. H.1ngraham.
119 ALABAMA JOE. By Joseph . Bad r, Jr....
120 THE TEXAN SPY. By Newton M. is. .
121 THE SEA CADET. Bv Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1
122 SAUL SAEEERDAY. By Ned Buntline..  .
12B ALAPAHA, THE Sanw. By Francis Johnson.
124 AESOWAUM, THE Amen. Francis Johnson.
125 THE m-I OnTLAw. By E. Ainsworth.
126 THEDEMON DUELIsT. By Col. T. H. Monstery.
127 SOL 80011, THE D . By Badger.
128 THE CHEVALIEE CORSAIR. the author of

 " 3r. 3“

A 216 THE CORSAIR PLANTER.

 

“Merle. the Mutineer,“ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 100
129 MIssIssrPPI MOSE. By Edward Willett . . . . .. 100
130 CAPTAIN VoLCANO. By Albert W. Aiken. .. .. 100
131 BUCRsKIN SAM. By Col. Prentiss Ingi‘aham.. 10c
132 NEMo, KING OF THE TRAhii‘s. By Capt. Fred.

Whittaker...  .. 100
133 RODY, THE ROVER By William Carleton... 10c
134 DAREIE DAN. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham... 10c
135 THE Busn RANGER. By Francis Johnson.... 100
136 THE OUTLAW-HUNTER. By Francis Johnson. 100
137 LONG BEARD, THE GIANT SPY. By 011 Coomes. 100
138 THE BORDER BANDITS. By Francis Johnson. 10c
139 FIREEYE. THE SEA HYENA. By In raham 100
140 THE THREE SI-ANIAHDs. By err re alker.. 100
141 EQUINOX TOM. By Joseph E. Banger, Jr. . .. 10c
142 CAPTAIN CRIMSON. By Major Dan erfleld Burr 100

143 THE CZAR‘S SPY. By Thos. H. ll onstery.... 10c
144 HUNCHDACE or NOTRE-DAME. Victor Hugo.. 100
145 PISTOL PARDS. By Wm. R. E ster . . . . . . . . .. 100

146 THE DOCTOR DETECTIVE. By eorge Lemuel 100
147 GOLD SPUR. By Col. Prentiss lngraham. , ..
148 ONE<ARMED ALF. By 011 COOInes .. . 10c
119 THE BORDER RIFLES. B ' Gustave Aimard.. 10c
150 EL RUBIO BRAVO, THE INC OF THE SWORD-
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151 THE FREHBOOTERS. Bfi' ustave Aimard.. . 100
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153 THE WHITE SCALPDR. y Gustave Aimard. 10c
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155 THE CORSAIR QUEEN. By Col. 1’. In raham. 100
156 VELVET FACE. By Major Dangerfie d Burr. 10C
157 MOURAD, THE MAMELUEE. By Col. Thomas
Hoyer Monstery . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . .. .. 10c
158 THE DOOMED DOZEN. By Dr. Frank Powell... 10c
159 RED RI'DIGER. By Cafit. Fred’k Whittaker.. 10c
160 SOET HAND. SHARP. y William R. Eyster.. 10c
161 THE WOLVEs or NEW YORK. BPyA.W. Aiken. 10c
162 THE MAD MARINER. By Col. . Ingraham .. 100
163 BEN BRION. THE TRAPPER CAPTAIN; or, RED<
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164 THE NG’s FOOL. By .. D. Clark  10c

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166 OWLET, THE BORDER PRINCE. By Septimus
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167 THE MAN or STEEL.

168 WILD BILL. THE PIsTOL
Prentiss In ham..

B A. P. Morris ..... ..
EAD SHOT. By Col.

0c
100

169 (‘ORPORAL ANNON. By Col. Monstery . . . . . .. 10c
170 SWEET WILLIAM. By Jos. E. Badger Jr  10c
171 TIGER DICE, THE MAN or THE inoN EART.

By Philip S. Warne.. .. . . . . . . . . . . .. 10c
172 THE BLACK PIRATE. By Col. Ingrahani..... 100
173 CALIFORNIA JOHN. B Albert W. Aiken . . . . .. 10c
174 PHANTOM KNIGHTS. y Capt. F. Whittaker.. 10c
175 WILD BILL’S TRUMP CARD. By Major Burr. 10c
176 LADY JAGUAR. By Capt. Maik Wilton. .. .. 100
177 DON DIAnLo. By Col. Prentiss Ingrnham... 10c
178 DARE DASHWOOD. By Major S. S. Hall.  100
179 CONRAD,THE CONVICT. Prof. S. Gilderslt eve. 10c
180 OLD ‘49. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr. . . . . .. 100
181 THE SCARLET SCHOONER. By Coi.Ingraham. 10c
182 Runs UP. B Wm.-R.Eyster. . . . . . .. 100
183 GILBERT, THE UIDE. B U. Dunning Clark. 10c
184 THE OCEAN VAMPIRE. y Col. P. Ingraham. 100
185 MAN SPIDER. ByA. P. Mom's  ..  10c
186 THE BLACK BRAVO. By Buckskin Sam. .  10c
187 THE DEATH‘s-HEAD CUIRASSIERS. Whittaker. 10c

188 PHANTOM MAZEPPA. Major Dangerfield Burr. 100
189 WILD BILL‘s GOLD TRAIL. By P. In raham.
190 THE THREE GUARDsMENn By Alex. umas..
191 THE TERRIBLE TONEAWAY. By BuckskinSam.
192 THE LIGHTNING SPORT. By Wm. B. E ster.
193 THE MAN IN RED. B Ca t. F. Whit aker.
194 DON SOMERERO. By (.apta n Mark Wilton .
195 THE LONESTAR GAMELER. B Buckskin Sam.
196 LA MAREosET. B Albert . Aiken. . . . . . ..
197 REVOLVER Ron. y Joseph E. Badger, Jr. ..
198 THE SKELETON SCHOONER. By P. Ingraham.
199 DIAMOND DIcE. By Buckskin Sam. .. .. .
200 THE RIFLE RANGERs. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
201 THE PIRATE or THE PLAcsns. B Badger.
202 CACTUB JACK. By Captain Mark ilton.....
203 THE DOUBLE DETECTIVE. By A. W. Aiken..
204 BIG Four WALLACE. By Buckskin Sam.
:05 THE GAMHI ER 1 IRATE. By Col. P. lngraham.
216 ONE EYE. 'IHE CANNONEER. By Whittaker.
:07 OLD HARD HEAD. B Philip S. Warns. .. ..
3.0") THE WHITE CHIEF. . y Capt. Mayne Reid..
:09 Burn: FARLEY. By Edward Wiiiett ........ ..
:10 BUCCANEER BEss. By Prentiss In aham...
211 THE UNENOW'N SPORT. By Ca t. hittaker.
212 THE BRAzos Theme. By Buc 'skin Sam. . .. 10c
213 THE WAR TRAIL. B" Contain Mayne Reid.
214 THE Two COOL SPORTs. ' By Win. R. Eyster.
215 PARSON JIM. By Captain Fred. Whittaker.
By Col. In ham.
217 gHE SERPENT or EL PAso. By uckskin
am.      
218 THE WILD HUNTRI-As. By 0%». Mayne Reid.
219 THE SCORPION BnoTHERs. Ca t. Wilton.
220 THE SPECTER YACHT. By (,‘0 . P. ngraham. 1
221 DESPERATE DUKE. By Buckskin Sam . . . . . ..
m BILL, THE BLIzzARD. By Edward Willett. ..
223 CANYON DAVE. By Ca rain Mark Wilton. ..
224 BLACK BEARD. By (‘0 . Prentiss Ingraham..
225 ROCKY MOUNTAIN AL. By Buckskin Sam...
226 MAD HUSSARS. By Cagtain Fred. Whittaker.
227 BUCKSHOT BEN. B aptain Mark Wilton.
228 THE MAROON. By apt. Mayne Reid . . . . . . ., 1
229 CAPTAIN CUTsLEEvE. By William R. Eyster. 10c
230 THE FLYING DUTCHMAN or 1880. By Capt.
Frederick Whittaker . . . , . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..
231 THE Kn) GLOVE MINER. By Col. Ingraham.
232 ORsON Oxx THE MAN or IRON. Bylsaac
Hawks, Fix-Detective . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .
233 THE OLD BOY or TOMDSTONE. By Joseph E.
Badger,Jr...   .. ...
234 THE HUNTERs‘ FEAsT. B Capt. Mayne Reid. 10c
235 BED LIGHTNING. THE AN or CHANCE. By
Colonel Prentiss Ingraham . . . . . .. . . . . . ..
236 CHAMPION SAM. By 001. Thos. H. Monstery. 10c
237 LoNG-HAIRED MAX. B Capt. Mark Wilton” 10c
238 HANK HOUND. By A. . Morris...” . . . . .. me
239 THE TERRIBLE TRIO. By Buckskin Sam. .  10c
240 ACOOLHEAD. B IsaacI-Iawks... . 10c
241 SPITIrIRE SAUL. Joe. E. er Jr.... . .. 10c
242 THE FOG DEVIL. Capt. Whittaker; 10c
243 THE PILGEnI SHARP. By Buffalo Bill ...... .. 10c

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SBQY’S MBRARY. 

 

 

l Adventures of BuMo Bill. Prom Boyhood to Man
hood. By Col. Prentin lngraham.
2 The Ocean Hunters: or, The Chase of the Leviathan. By
Ca tain Mayne Reid. An aura large number. m
3 A ventures of W Bill. the Pistol Prince. Remarkable
career of J. B. Hikok. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.
4 The Prairie Ranch; or, The Young Cattle Herders. By Joe.
E. Badger, Jr.
6 Texas Jack. the Mustang . Thrilling Adventures in
the Life of J. B. Omohundro, “ exas ack.” By Col. P. Ingraham.
8 Cruise of the Plyway; or, Yankee Boys in Ceylon. By C.
Dunning Clark.
7 Bo Joe: The History of a Young “ Border Ruflian.” Brief
Scenes rom the Life of Joseph E. Badger, Jr. By A. H. Post.
8 The Ply-away Afloat; or, Yankee Boys ’Round the World.
By C. Dunning Clark.
9 Bruin Adams. Old Grizzly Adams’ Boy Purd. By
001. Prentiss Ingraham.
10 The Snow Trail; or, The Boy Hunters of Fur-Land. A Narra-
tive of Sport and Life around Lake Winnipeg. By T. C. Harbaugh.
11 Old Grizzly Adamgthe Bear Tuner; or, The Monarch of
the Mountain. By Dr. Frank Powell. ‘
18 Woods and Waters; or, The Exploits of the Littleton Gun
Club. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
18 A Rolling Stone: Incidents in the Career on Sea and Land as
Boy and Man, of Col. Prentiss .Ingraham. By Prof.Wm. R. Eyster.
14 Ads-fit on the Prairie. and Auteur Hunters on the
Hume By 011 Coomes.
15 Kit Carson. King.3 of Guides; or, Mountain Paths and
Prairie Trails By Al rt W. Aiken.
16 Red River Rovers; or, Life and Adventures in the Northwest.
By C. Dunning Clark.
1? Plans. and Plain; or, Wild Adventures of “ Buckskin Sam,”
(Major Sam S. Hal; By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
18 Rifle and Rave ver; or, The Littleton Gun Club on the
Bulfalo Range. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
19 Wide-Awake George, the Bo Pioneer. By Ed. Willett.
80 The D ' Dragoon; or, T e Story of General George A.
Custer, from est Pointto the Big Horn. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
21 Deadwood Dick as a. Boy; or, Why Wild Ned Harris, the New
England Farm-lad, became the Western Prince of the Road. By
Edward L. Wheeler.
22 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C. Harbaugh.
28 Pnnl De Lacy. the French Beast Charmer; or, New
York Boys in the J ungles. By C. Dunning Clark.
24 The 0rd Prince: The Romantic Life of Colonel Monstery,
(American Champion-at-arms.) By Captain Fred. Whittaker.
25 Round the Camp Fire ; or. Snow-Bound at “Freeze-out Camp.”
A Tale of Roving Joe and his Hunter Pards. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.
28 sin-“7.51103 Tom; or, New York Boys in the Wilderness. A
Narrative of Sport and Peril in Maine. By T. C. Harbaugh.
27 Yellow Hair, the Boy Chief of the Pawnees. The Ad-
venturous Career of Eddie Burgess of Nebraska. By Col. lngraham.

‘ 28 The Chase of the Great White Stag and Camp and

Canoe. By C. Dunning Clark.

89 The Fortune-Hunter; or. Roving Joe as Miner, Cow.Boy,
Trapper and Hunter. By A. H. Post.

30 Walt Ferguson's Cruige. A Tale of the Antarctic Sea. By
C. Dunning Clark.

31 The Boy Crusader; or, How a Page and a Fool Saved a King.

. By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

32 White Beaver. the Indian Medicine Chief: or, The Ro-
mantic and Adventurous Life of Dr. D. Frank Powell, known on the
Border as “ Fancy Frank,” “Iron Face,” etc. By 001. P. Ingraham.

33 Captain Ralph. the Young Explorer: or, The Centipede
Among the Floes. By C. Dunning Clark.

34 The Young Bear Hunters. A Story of the flaps and Mishaps
of a Party of Boys in the Wilda of Michigan. By Morris Redwing.

35 The Lost Boy Whalers; or, In the Shadow of the North Pole.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

36 Smart Sim, the. Lad with a. Level Read. By Ed. Willett.

37 Old Tar Hnuckle and His Boy Chums: or, The Monsters
of the Esquimaux Border. By Roger Starbuck.

33 The‘JSettler’s Son; or, Adventures in Wilderness and Clear-

ing By Edward S. Ellis.

39 N“ lit-Hawk George, and His Daring Deeds and Adventures

in t e Wilda ot the South and West. By CPL Prentiss Ingrahnm.

40 The Ice Elephant: 01', The Castaways or the Lone Coast. By
Captain Frederick Whittaker.

41 The Pampas Hum: 01'. New York Boys in Buenos Ayres.
B T. C. Earbaugh.

48 The Yo Land-Lower. By C. Dunning Clark.

48 Bronco B y, tho Saddle Prince. By Col Elsa-she...

 

44 The Snow Hunters; or, Winter in the Woods. ByBarry
De Forrest.

45 Jack. Harry and Toni, the Three Champion Brothers; or,
Adventures of Three Brave<Boys with the Tattooed Pirate. By
Captain Frederick Whittaker. \

48 The Condor Killers; or, Wild Adventures at the Equator.
By T. C. Barbaugh. .

4'7 The Boy Coral Fishers; or, The Sea Cavern Scourge. By
Roger Sterhuck.

48 Dick. the Stowaway; or, A Yankee Boy’s Strange Cruise-
By Charles Morris.

49 Tip Tressell, the Floater; or, Fortunes and Misfortunes on
the Mississippi. By Edward Willett.

50 The Adventurous Life of Nebraska Charlie. (Chas 1?.
Burgess.) By Colonel Prentiss lngrnham.

51 The Colorado Boys; or, Life on an Indigo Plantation. By
Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

52 Honest Hurry; or, The Country Boy Adrift in the City. By
Charles Morris.

53 The Boy Detectives; or, The Young Californians in Shanghai.
By T. C. Harbsugh.

54 Cnlifo‘rnia. Joe, the Mysterious Plainsman. By 001. Ingrahun.

55 Harry Sonnet-s, the Sailor-Boy Magician. By S. W. Pearce.

58 Nobody's Boys; or, Lite Among the Gipsies. By J. M. Ho! ‘
man.

57 The Homeric Hunter; or, Fanny Hobart, the Animal
Queen. By Major K. Grenville, “ Sea Gull."

.58 Lane Tins, the Male Boy of the Mines. By Charles Morris.

59 Lud Lionheels, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger Starbuck.
80 The Young Trail Hunters; or, New York Boys in Grinly-

Land. By T. C. Harbaugh. 

81 The Young Mustangers. By C. Dunning Clark.
82 The Tiger Hunters; or, The Colorado Boys in Tiger-had
By Joseph E. Badger, J r. I
68 The Adventurous Life of Captain «Inch, the Border Bq
(John W. Crawford, the Poet Scout.) By Col. Prentiss IngrahaL >
64 The Young ,Moose-Hunters; or, Trail and Campfire in the
New Brunswick Woods. By Wm. H. Manning.
66 Black Horse Bill. the Bandit Wrecker; or, Two Brave Boys
to the Rescue. By Roger Starbuck.
66 Little Dan Rocks; or, The Mountain Kid’s Musics; ' By
Morris Redwing.
67 'Longshore Lije; or, How a Rough Boy Won His Way. By
C. Dunning Clark.
68 Platboat Fred; or, The Voyage of the “Experiment.” By
Edward W'illett. ‘
69 The Deer-Hunters; or, Life in the Ottawa Country. By
John J. Marshall.
70 Kentucky Ben. the Long Rifle of the Plains; or, The Boy
Trappers of Oregon. By Roger Starbuck. .

71 The Boy Pilot; or, The Island Wreckers. By Col. Ingraham..\  ‘ 4

'72 Young Dick Talbot. By Albert W. Aiken.

73 Pat Mullone
Queen. By C. . Edwards.

74 The Desert Rover; or, Stowaway Dick Among the Arabs.
By Charles Morris. .

75 The Border Gumker; or, The Hunted Maiden. By James
L. Bowen. .

78 The Kit Carson Club: or, Young Hawkeyes in the North-
west. By T. C. Harbaugh.

77 Left-Handed Pete. the Double-Knife. By Joe E. Badger. Jr.

78 The Boy Prospector; or, The Scout of the Gold Bovine. By '

Roger Starbuck.

79 Minonee. the Wood Witch; or, The Squatter’s Secret. ByEdwhr
Emerson. /

so The Boy cm; or, Joe and Jap’s Big Find. By mm‘

Willett.
A New Issue Every Week.

Bmm’s Boy’s LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdsalers, live out ,

per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each.

_ - BRADLE AND ADAMS, Pumaam,
08 William Street, New York

I Adventures; or, Silver Tongue, the Dsootai l

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., .57 A Brave

 

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American Copyright Novas" and'the Cream of Foreign Novelists, Unabridged, FOR FIVE CENTS!

0—.——. ___.

. Mary Reed (Prowell.
2 Was It Love ’l or, Collegians and Sweet-
hearts. By Win. Mason Turner. M. D.
g Xingu“! Wllie. ‘ By Balétleyl'fl.l Campbell.
nave ear ' or tart l .
6 By Airman Southw’orth: g y smnge
so e :1 nor the Work G .
8 TVlVlilliam Mafsyt’lglITul'ner. M D. “I By
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7 A Daughter of Eve' or Blindedb Lo ..
By Mrs. Mary Reed Cl'ovz'ell.' y VB
8 Heart to Heart. B Arabella Southwortll.
9 Alone in the Worl ; or,The Young Man’s
Ward. By the author of “ Clifton," etc.
10 A Pair oi Gray Eyes. By Rose Kenned .
11 Entangled; or, A Dangerous Game. y
Henrietta Thackeray.

12 His Lawful \Vii'e; o'r, Myra, the Child of ‘

Adoption. By Mrs. Ann S. S
13 likadcla ah'thtavgdttle
ava et’s 00' . Corinne Lushlnan.
14 Why I Married im.y By Sara Claxton.
15 A Fair Face; or, Out in the World. By
Bartley T. Campbell. .
16 Trust Her Not; or, A True Knight. By
Margaret Leicester.
{1 A Loyal Lover. B Arabella Southworth.
8 His [1101' or. The] Starred Marriage. By
Mrs. Mary heed Crowell.
19 The Broken Betrothal; or. Love versus
, Hate. By Mary Grace Halpine.
20 Orphan Nell, the Orange Girl; or, The
Lost Heir. By Agile Penne.
21 Now_and Forever; or, Why Did She Mar-
: 1% Elm? By Henrietta Thackeray.
22 e Bride of an Actor. By the author
of “ Alone in the World,“ “ Clifton," etc.
23 Leap hear; or, Why She Proposed. By Sara

axton.
24 Her Face Was Her Fortune. By Elea-
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tephens.
uakeress ' or, The

25 onoi ‘3‘”; 'n l
n y a 'c 00 mistress' or, ‘Her Untold.
Secret. By Arabella Southn’rorth.
28 Without a Heart. By (.‘01. P. Ingraham.
21 Was She Is Coquette? or, A Strange
‘, ' Courtship. By Henrietta Thackeray.
28 Sflbil Chase; or, The Gambler’s Wife. By

rs. Ann S. Stephens.
By Sara Claxton.

0 The Bou uet Girl. B Agile Penne.
31 A Mad arri. e. B ’ A. '
32 Mariana, :2 y ary Denlson

the Prima Donna' or. Rose
\ . and Lilies. B Arabella Southwort’h. s
88 The Three lsters. By Alice Fleming.
64 A Marria e of Convenience; or, Was
35 ‘13: aACmi‘nt t 1%; Sara Claxton.
. ga ns er. B Clara Augusta.
36 Sir Archer’s Bride ;yor, The Queen of His
Heart. By Arabella Southworth.
g: £1110 goun‘tary fanning” Rosfi Kennedy.
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By Jacob Abarbanell, (8 pk Royal.)
40 Pledge-1 to Marry. By Sara Claxton.
~ 4i Blind Devotion. By Alice Fleming.
~12 Beatrice, the Beautiful' or, His Second
Love. By Arabella Southworth.
~13 The Baronet’s Secret; or, The Rival Hali-
n

44 Tsllsteg. lByISara Cilfxto .
1e n au ter' or Broh '
4' “loverhigduiseéleminé. L; t er again“
a or en oe' or eAtAll .
By Arabella Southworth. ' v Odds
46‘The Little Heiress; or, Under a Cloud.
47 I’By Mrs. Mas .A.IDeMsodn.
ecause e ove Him° or H W'
I It End? By Alice Fleming. ’ ' W m
48 In Spite of Herself; or,Jeannette's Repa-
' ration. By S. R. Sherwood.
49 His Heart’s Mistress; or. Love at First
Sight. By Arabella Southworth.
50 The Cuban Heiress- or. The Prisoner of
‘ V tresse. Mrs. M}; A. Denison,
51 Two Young iris; or, The Bride of an
- Earl. By Alice Fleming.
62 The Winged Messenger; or, Risking All
53 Afor a Heart. By t.llihl-s. Marty Reed Crowell.
nos 0 e e c ress. B Will'
54 ofimo‘nv'l‘umgr,:m. 11;. y “m
ne oman s cart“ or. S d t 1
Street. B George S. Kaime. ave romtle
55 use Did ot Love Him; or. Stooping to
Conquer. By Arabella Southworth.
6 Love-Mad; or Betrothed. Married. Divorced
and B in. Mason Turner, M. D.
‘irl. B Alice Fleming.
58 T e Ebon Mas ; or. The Mysterious
59 A ‘u‘slfian. ,Bwlrf. Mary liegltt‘roVwell.
ow s cm or i t* ’ e.
60 0135,3th % Benlmardt‘, T . U‘ engeanc
ec s ece t' or. he Diamond Levac .
By Mrs. Jennie D’avis Burton. b y

61 A Wicked Heart. By Sara Clnxton.

82 The Maniac Bride. By Margaret Blount
. 63 The Creole Sisters. By Anna E. Porter.
04 What Jealousy Did. By Alice Fleming.
85 The Wife’s Secret. By (‘01. Juan Lewis.

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heapest Library Ever Published!

 

66 A Brother’s 8111' or, Flora‘s Forgiveness.
By Rachel Bernhard .

67 Forbidden Bans. By Arabella Southworth.

68 “’eavers and \Vei‘t.’ B M. E. Brnddon.

. 69 Camille; or. The Fate 0 a Coquette. By
Alexandre Dumas.
70 The Ttvo 0r )hans. By D'Enery.

'11 M}! bYoung Vii'e. By My Young Wife's

us and.
‘72 The Two Widows.
73 Rose Michel; or, The
Girl. By Maud Hilton.
74 Cecil Castlemaine’s Gage ' or, The Story
otaBroidered Shield. B Oui a.

By Annie Thomas.
rials of a Factory

75 Type Black Lady of .una. By J. S. Le
anu.
I 76 I'hnrlotte Teln )le. B Mrs. Rowson.
l 77 (‘hristian listake. By the

011k 9 "N
author of “ John Halifax, Gentleman,“ etc.
78 My Young Husband; or, AConfusion in
the Family. By Myself.
'79 A ueen Amongst \Voulen. By the
. out or of “Dora Theme." etc, etc.
i 80 Her Lord and Blaster. By Florence
Marryat. '
81 Lucy Temple, Sister of Charlotte.
2 A Long Time Ago. By Meta Orred.
83 Playing for High Stakes.
Thomas.
84 The Laurel Bush. By the author oi
‘ “John Halifax, Gentleman."
85 Led Astrny. By Octave Feuillet.
86 Janet’s Repentance. By George Eliot.
87, The Romance oi'a. Poor Young Man.
By Octave Feuillet.
88 A Terrible Deed; or, All for Gold. By
Emma Garrison Jones.
89 A Gilded Sin. By the author of “ Dora
Thorn," etc.
WmAuthor’s Daughter. By Mary

- o .

91 The Jilt. By Charles Reade.

92 Eileen Alanna; or, the Dawning of the Day.
By Dennis O'Sulllvan.

93 Love’s Victory. By B. L. Far’eon.

,94 The Quiet Heart. By Mrs. O 'phant.

95 Lettice Arnold. By Mrs. Marsh.

96 Haunted Hearts. B Rachel Bernhardt.

97 Hugh Melton. By Ka harine King.

98 Alice Learmont. By Miss Mulock.

99 Marjorie Bruce’s Lovers. By Mary

Patrick.
100 Throu%h Fire and Water. ByFred-
, erlck Tel 0t. .
101 Hannah. By Mss Mullock.
102 Peg Wotflngton. B CharlesReade.
103 A Desperate Deed. y Erskine Bo d.
104 Shadows on the Snow. By B. .Far—

neon.
1 5 The Great Ho art Diamond. By
0 W. M. Thackeray. gg y

By Annie

106 From Dreams to Waking. By E.
L n Lin on.

107 Pydlor Zeph! By F. W. Robinson. .

108 The Sad Fortunes ofthe Rev Amos

Barton. By George Eliot.
109 Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses. By

B. L. FWeon.
110 The _ andering Heir. By Charles

Reade.

111 The Brother’s Bet; or. Within Six
Weeks. By Emilie Fl gore Carlen.

112 A Hero. By Miss ulock.

113 Paul and Vir inia. From the French oi
Bernardin De St. ‘erre.

114 ’Twas In Trafalgar’s Bay. By Wal-
ter Besant and James Rice.

1 1 5 The Maid of Killeena. By Wm. Black.

1 1 8 Hetty. By Henry Kingsley. I

117 The Wayside Cross' or, The Raid of
Gomez. By Captain E. All/lumen.

118 The Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver

Goldsmith.
1 19 Maud Mohan. By Annie Thomas.
120 Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Miss Jane

Porter.

1'21 gl‘he King of No-Land. By B. L. Fan
eon.

122 Love], the Widower. By W. M. Thack-

eray.

123 An Island Pearl. By B. L. Farjeon.

12-1 Cousin Phillis.

125 Leila; or. The Si e of Grenada. By Ed-
ward Bulwer (Lord L ton).

126 When the Ship Comes Home. By
Walter Besant and ames Rice.

127 One of the Famil . By James Payn.

128 The Birthright. i‘Ml‘S. Gore.

129 Motherless; or, The armer’s Sweetheart.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. .

130 Homeless; or, Two Orphan Girls in New
York. B Albert W. Aiken. l ‘

1 31 Sister avainst Sister; or, The Rivalry c!
Hearts: By Mrs. Mary Reed Croweli.

1 32 Sold for Gold. By Mrs. M. V. Victor.

133 Lord Roth’s Sin. By Georgiana Dickens.

l 134 gild He Love Her ’9 By Bartley r. Camp-

 

! 135 Sinned Against. ByLillian Lovejoy. .

 

Was She His Wife? By Mrs. Mary ,Reed
Crowell.
The Vlliwe on the Cliil‘.

Thackeray,
Poor Valeria! or, The Broken 'Troth.
By G. P. R. James.

By Margaret Blount.

Margaret Grahanl.

\Vithout Mercy. By Bartlefiél‘flnmpbell.
Honor Bound. By Lillian vejoy. '
Fleeing,r iron: Love. By Mls. Harriet
Irving.

Abducted; or. A Wicked Woman‘s Work.
By Rett Winwood. .

A Strange Ma rriage. By Lilhan Lovejoy.
Two Girl’s By Mrs. Mary Reed
Crows-ll.

A Desperate Venture ' or, For Love‘s
Own Sake. By Arabella. Soughworth.

The “’ar of Hearts. By Commie Cush-

136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143

144
1-15

146
147
148

By Miss

Lives.

man.
“'hich \Vns the Woman 2! or, Strangely
Misjudged. By Sara Claxton.

An Ambitious Girl' or, SheWould Be
An Actress. By Frances elen Daven ort.
Love Lord of All. By Alice Ma leming.
A “'ild Girl. By Corinne Cus llnan. '

A Man’s Sacrifice. By Harriet lrvanfi.
Did She Sin. By Mrs. Ma .Reed Crow’s .
He Loves lVIe Not. 131' lllian LoveJoy.
Winning Ways. By~ argaret Blount.
\Vhat She Cost Him; or. Crooked Paths.
By Arabella Southworth.

A Girl’s Heart. By Rett Winwood.’ .

A Bitter Mistake' or, A Young Girl’s
Foll . B Agnes Mary Shelton. ,.

La y Helen’s V0\v' or, The Mother‘s
Secret. By the Late Mrs. B. F. Ellet.
Buying- a Heart. By Lillian Love 0y. '
Pearl ofPearls. By A. P. Moms. r.

2 A Fatci'ul Game; 01', Wedded and Parted.
B Sal-a Claxton. .
3 fine Creole Cousins; or, Falseas Fair.

By Philip S. Warne.
4 A Scathing Ordeal; or,MayLan ley’s
Mad Marriage. By; Mrs. Georgiana Dic ens.
5 A Strange Gir . By Albert W. Aiken. .
6 A Man’s Sin. BéRett Winwood.
'1 The Hand of ate; or, The Wreck of
Two Lives. B Arabella Southworth.
168 Two Fair omen. B Wm.M.Turner.
169 Tempted Throu h ove; or, One
Woman's Error. By an Lovejoy.
170 Blind Barbara’s Secret. By Mary
Grace Halpine.

ssh-d
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Hl-Il-I s: H l-ll-lh‘ n r-I-I sud—nun
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71 A Woman’s Witcher ; or, Through
Much Tribulation. B Sara laxton.

172 Black Eyes an Blue. By Corinne
Cushman.

173 The Cost of a Folly. By Georgiana
Dickens.

174 The Pretty Puritan. By A Parson’s
Daughter. ,

1'75 Is Love a Mocker t! or, Revenge is

Sweet. By Arabella Sout worth.
176 Adria, the Adopted. By Jennie Davis
Burton.

17‘! For the Woman He Loved; or, Fate-
tul Links. By Agnes Mary Shelton. ’

1‘18 The Locked Heart. By Corinne Cushman.

1'79 Parted by Treachery. By Harriet Irving.

180 Was She a “’ii'e’l or. The Proof of Love.
By Rett Winwood.

181 Under a Cloud; or. A Daughter's Sus-
picion. By Sara Claxton.

,182 An Anierlcan Queen; or, The Heart of

Gold. By Grace Mortimer.

183 A Pnint of Honor; or. Diamond Cut
Diamond. Bv Lillian Lovejoy.

184 Pursucd to the Altar.
Cushman.

185 Put to a Test; or. A Fortune Hunter’s
Fate. By Georgiana Dickens.

186 The Terrible Truth; or, The Thornhurst
Mystery. By Jennie Davis Burton.

187 Outwitted by Herseli; or. A Mother‘s
Scheme. By Arabella Southworth.

188 Florette, Child of the Street' or, A Pearl
Beyond Price. By Col. Prentiss ingraham.

189 Her Guardian’s Sacrifice; or, A Name
in the Balance. By Sara Claxton.

190 Pretty and Proud; or. The Gold-Bug of
Frisco. By Corinne Cushman.

191 A “’onlan’s Maneuver; or, Purse, not
Heart. By Lillian Lovejoy.

192 The Bitter Feud. By Jennie Davis Bur-
ton.

By Corinne

A new ism every week.

Tan Wavannar LIBRARY is for sale by all News-

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 g ellomiouo Jack. B .108. E. Badger, Jr. 15 The Mad Miner. By G.Waldo Browne. 231 Pluck Phil B 'r 6 By 1)" ‘h
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5 Va abolid Joeymm Your“: WANDERING Jaw. 19 Muntnng- Sam. By Jns. E. Badger Jr ‘ 235 Shadow Sam ByCll .l Mug-rig m
113! llCoomes. >Double Number lOets. 20 The Branded Hand. ByFruukDilmont 236 A )OIIO Bill .8 dwaar‘d‘l'? Woh I.
8 ill Biddon, Trapper. B E. S. Ellis. 21 Cinnamon Chip. By Fdward L. Wheeler. 237 IAIDIIO fitar theycowbo C 
7 Tile Flying Yankee. By Co . P.1ngraham. 22 Phil Hardy 'rur: Boss Boy. By 0. Morris. Tim Mfsmlhus RAN‘OHERO Il’pln'” ‘0’.
8 Seth Jones. By Edward S. Ellis. 23 Kiowa Charley. By ’1‘. C. Harbnugh H 238 The Parson Detective l; Offload am.
I?) ggrell‘rtgsengiE 13315111); lllllnchaullen.  Bippy, JIE TEXAN. By George Gleason. 239 The unldueeker (nude; {,1- fig 
V . . . . ) em: 1. . ' . . ~ ' ' I
' H The 'I‘IVO Detectives. By A.W. Aiken. 26 Plea 'lllll;:! g2:i,-.Mll¥ylv%hi§gl¢§§dmgrmmelem 240 E‘E’lzfl I? toameHEdME-yrldellmat’ih l
. l2 Gulliver’s Travels. B'Dean Swift. 27 “’1! -Firo, Bosser'rnn Row. B ' Dulllont 241 Bill Bravo.nn "vim Be 61038,}!
is:  Hi vlggNOD; Coomfiim’  'Ilghedl'oundg Privateer. By ll. ‘avnndisll: By ’1‘. C. Harbau h. s all “r .-
, . arm. . en “‘00 - ’s . ' ' i ‘ l ‘
15 The Sea-Cat. By Captain Fred. Whittaker. 30 Detective  B?81‘.‘al:ll:s nifgrngmeler'   33°...” 303"]?! By ghaflescmorfls'
16 Robinson Crusoe. (:37 Illustrations.) 31 The Golden Hand. By Geo W Browne 2421 Sierra 6:: I lM313 l’lllil e'L on oumes‘
}; gall  s‘ByilCol. Pifiilxtlsss Iggrgxg.”  Elie Hunted Huliter. By Ed.'s. Ellis‘ - 245 lVlerlo. thg'ivjl dy “'3;ng r2325}.me
. .u or. .eV ‘U- ‘ 03m . il‘.. , .. ‘ ‘ ‘ . '  .
u 19 The Phantom Shy. By Bufi’alo Bill. 5 34 Sure Silk:ng  LdB LOWCI" g4“ (“unfit-cargo. By B‘mksun bum. ‘
, I ' _ . e l. y oomes. 147 old (-rizzly and Hi: Peta. B Ca tom
20 The Double Duggerl. By E. L. Wheeler. .3.) Captain Paul. By (‘. Dunnin Clark “ Bruin “ Adam y p '
' 21 The Frontier Angel. By Edward S. Ellis. 36 Night-llawk Kit. ByJos {.5 Beaver Jr 248 eier n enmvs'soor t B E L Wh
I 22 The Sea Ser ent. B Juan Lewis. 37 The Helpless Hand. Capt lllayn; Reid. 24‘) in"; Ii  B'GL‘I t d W11 eel”.
V 23 Nick 09 the ight. yT. C. Harbauzh. 38 Blonde Bill. By Edward L: \Vheeler ' 256 Mm | I omc 'M )u a? ' “’3' 1 “men \ -
24 Diamond Dirk. By 0310001 P- Illgmlmm- 39 .ludwe Lynch .ir. B'T C Harimuéh r] [i I“: lplnm‘ Lln‘rl "BudI F yC manna!“ I '1 '
3‘5; '(rll... Bangs???mgyrlgofierfitarmmk. :0 Bill; Blazes. ’BLFX'EH Denim... ‘  [iii-El: 'n'flfiffiway‘" ByyChhlllMofims' ‘
r 2 oven . ' ea 1‘. 1 So . .l ‘ l" I . 1'
27 Antelope Abe, THE BOY GUIDE. 01100011108. ~12 nil-[313:5 filtrll‘vfnlSLC‘livglggéefi-lonis 2,5,3 ¥£rra sum,“ Par“. B E. LWhegler. "
28 Bull‘a 0 Ben. BY Edward L. Wheeler. 43 Sc'nr-Fnl'e Saul. O Conmeq ' 2 4 ‘ e Half Blond. By E ward 3' Elm. ’-
29 The nlnh Page. 3 Cupt- F-Whltmkefl 44 Daint Lulu-e THE or SPORT ByBadger  (raptah' Apouo' By T'C' Barb“ h. \
i 30 Roaring Ralph “00 \vood.THE RECK‘ 45 (‘apta n Ferrét. B' EdwardL Wheeler ' ‘2': "mlng Kentuck' By capt'MMk man.
1 Less RANGER. By Harrfi St. George. - 46 Silver Star rm: BOY am By Coom  5 2:7 rm Loft lrluuwr’. By on t' '
g1 Keen-Knife- ByO Coomes. 47 Will Wild’nre By Chm-lee Moi-n. “' i .29? NW” ’“m " seven“ By E‘ ' “I”
2 Bob “.00”. By Edward LJWhee‘er. 48 Sharp Sam. B-yJ Alemndorpungu I 5...) lhe (-oiden Harpoon. ByRStarbuck.
l 33 The Ocean Bloodhound.“ S. W. Pierce. 49 A Game of Gold: By‘Ed L Win-clél- 7b” Burg-'Dlwu Dan. B 01100011188. 1
84 01"! 0n 301- By Calm J- F- C AdEmS- 50 Lance and Lauuo By Ca. t 'F Whittalr  yen-"w Fearnauzh ' By Geo. Lmrflaen' ‘
35 w. d Ivan. ByEdward L. Wheeler. 5| Panther Pm". é “’08 .Bad or Jr er.  I‘hr Young Sleuths. Charles Mo
36 The Do ' Clown . By Frank S. Film. 52 Black ’33” “7m nn'rn‘mvs REFEREOI. 3"" Dendwoo'i luck “Dun 0' By whale“
37 The “,1 dell Loaf-‘5“,- By T- 0- Katha-Ugh. Wmmo Aomh'r ODDS. By Charles Merrie ' 264 The Floanug Feather' By mm '
I  $31“: {71:33:} 713120ng111 By gfifiggfifi 'Engle Kn, my; Boy DEMON, B on Conniég, 265 The‘ Tiger Tamer. By Capt. Whittaker.
40 Roving Bell. By J. J. Marshall. ggfdifii‘éfirfn'fi‘s‘i'ir 1'? C.  286 Kulb’ar’ the Gume. By Ensignwamn‘
41 Lane Jack. B on Coomes. Deadwood flick of ben'dgvood_ or' 267 Tile Buckskin Detective. By '1‘. C.
42 The Phantom iner. By E. L. Wheeler. THE pmxm, pm". 3 Edward L. “96318... ' Harbaugh. .
, 43 Dick Dariin . BgCa t. Fred. Whittaker. Mike Men-y, By (juries Mom... 263 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. By
T  wtkeglfighio By Eggfi‘LGfirgger Fanc Frank oi Colorado. Buffalo Bill. Edward L. Wheeler. .. .
l 46 an“. Eye. daptzyJ- ROM”;an ' The out Captain. By Whittaker. 269 The Gold Ship. By 00L p. xngr‘aham_ ’ . e

T . . .
N23, $2.0: N;'.‘}f"ByBE¥fl€.b§§g$f‘ri Jr' 270 Blizzard Ben. By Captain Mark Wilton.

Will Wildfire in the Woods. Morris. 27! The Huge Hunter- By Edwards- m " 
Little Texas- By 0" CoomeS- 272 Mink-kin Mike. By 011 Coomec. ‘

Dand Rock’s Pied e. B (1W. Browne.
I, Billyynwgagm B Elenarfigs Mom. 273 Jumbo Joe. By Edward L. Wheeler.

Hickory Harry. y Harry St. George. 27-! Jolly Jim. By Charles Morris.
Asa Scott, Tun Summon BOY. By Willett. 275 Arizona Jack. By Buckskin Sam.

Dead] Dash. By Jos. E. Bad er. Jr. I ‘ 
Torna’ao Tom. 3% T. C' Harhgugh. 278 Merle Monte’s Cruise. By Ingram .. ~

47 Nightin ale at. By T. C. Harbaufi
48 Black ohn,m ROAD-AGENT. By
49 Omaha on. By Edward L. Wheeler.
50 Burt Bunker, m Tmrnn. C.IE. Lesalle.
'51 The Do Rifles. By Archie C. Irons.

h.
edger.

52 The Wh te Buil‘alo. By C. E. Lasalle.
53 Jim Bludsoe, Jr. BJy Edward L.Wheeler.
54 Ned Hazel. B Capt. .F. C. Adams.

55 Deadly-E e. ByBuffalo Bill.

.56 Nick “'ll flies" Pet. Ca. t. J. F. C. Adams. A Trum Curd. y Charles Moms_ 277 Denver no", By Edward L_ Wheeler; .5:

:; Thgdgoodl “lg”. ml? $1.043! 8618’“ .Ebony an. By Frank Duluont. 278 Tile Three Trappern. By Major Carson. ' '1

59 old m‘zlliofi-rv Bn ' ysc a mes‘ Thunderbon'l‘0m- BYHEW'Sl-nge- 279 out Winch m Rm me By T c ‘ 

l '” f y “"8 ' emée' Dand Rock’s Rival. By G.W. Browne. H M h ’ ' ‘ ' 3 ~
. 60 The White ndian. apt. J. F. . Adams. Bob ocken, Tn BOY Domm‘ B Morris, 81' 118 - - »

61 Buckhorn Bill. By Edward L. Wheeler.
82 The Shadow ship . B Col. P. Ingraham.
83 The Bed Brotherhoo . W. J. Hamilton.
64 Dand Jack. By'l‘. C. Harbaugh.

65 Hurr cane‘Biil. 1:; J05. E. Badger. Jr
BGiSingle Hand. By .J. Hamilton.

67 Patent eatiler Joe. B Phili S. Warns.
08 Border. Robin Hoo . B ' ufl'alo Bill.
69 Gold nine. B Edward L. eeler.

70 old Zip’u Cab n. By Capt. J. F. 0. Adams.
71 Delaware Dirk. ByOllCoomes.

captain Arizona, By phma s, ame. 280 Merle Monte’a Fate. By Col. 
'lNhfimeyl .lll‘unawam 33' out. Perry. 281 Denver Doll’s Victory. By Wheeler.

0;; _ om‘ary‘j‘ figfifigmfi-EP- “"1981” 282 The Typo Detective. By Edward Willett. ‘ a .‘f
Bob ‘Roekett, rm: 13m: Rowan. Morris. 283 Indian J 06- By Major L W. Carson- -‘ Q i

The 50“ TIT-“8". E’iiYleem- 3- 9- Pfifl'y- 284 The Sea Marauder. By. ColIngraham.

Wild [7' k. B d W .
“me mfiflmge. Byokcggggér 285 Denver Doll’s Decoy. By E. L. Wheelen

The Hidden Hand. By Chas.Mon-is. 288 Josh the Boy Tenderfoot; or T2:
The Boy Trailer... By Badger..l’r. Wm: or vaanm ByMai-kwmon.
Evil Eye. By Frank Dumont. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes. By Col. P..Ingrallam.

 

 

 

Blue Dick. By Ca tain Mayne Reid.

'12 Mad Tom “’entern. By W. J. Hamilton. _
" 3 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Wheeler. 000‘ D“"'“°""- 3? 9‘“ 13,9“? SW 288 The Scalp King. ByCapt. J. r. Guiana.
4 Hawk,e e “m... . B .011 Coomes Fred Halynrd. B) Lharlcs Morris.
5 The no; Duelist" Bv)Col P Inzraham Ned Tem “99 THEMED“ BOlf- Earhauzh. 239 Jon” Jim" ’0‘” 3’ Ch‘fle“ MOTHE- ’ .
6 Abe Colt,rrm Chow-liminn. B 'A. W. Aiken. ggbdnof" "k‘a TEE Cgvg‘CK-Sfimg’ 133’ MOMS- 290 Little Foxfire. By Oil Coomes. ' . 
g Corduroy Charlie. By E. .Wlleeler. an?“ 0 1'5"? g} Cm.“ Ylgrfi-L s. A_ 291 Turk, the Ferret. By T. L. Wheeler.
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. « Ca tain Kit. B Lieut.H.D. .e .U.S.N. 292 Sancho Pedro THE BOY Bum. '  .7
Sol Gin 0136mm RAPPER. ByA.W. Aiken. Cagt‘n“ "fink. YB), I,me S'nge' Major E,L,St.v n, n, ,

 

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80 Boaebu Rob. By Edward L. Wheeler.
, Bull‘an Bill’s Bet. By Captain Taylor. 293 nod claw m on“; D -
35 Efihi'i'igfixé'o‘l‘. 13’} $T‘é‘f“fi'.ib§d°i.““ms' 95:33:33; Egg; 13613313” Wheeler. Captain Comsltock. “ mm“ 3’
. ' ‘ k , y 3r ['1' s.
:2 adoration-grime 9. «32:12:;  mom... a. mom. .294 Wm m- By T- 0. mm .
. 85 Bug. nuckram, B Capt J. Ea Adams Arkanuaw. By '1‘. C. Harbaugli. I95 Fearless Phil or Tin: KING or .Quurrm 2‘ "g:
as Dand Book. By .Waldo Browne. _' Featherwoi ht. By Edward Willett. mu. By Edw Wlileit. .
37 The and Pirates. By Ca. t. Mayne Reid, The BOY 39 0|!!!“- BY Wilma-here 296 Denver Doll’s Drin. By EL.Wheelor., 
38 Pho‘ofrarh law}; 3 fiB-gheeler- $¥:,n§:f§§§g“'3§egfggg;ngy Whale" 297 The Tarantula of Taos. By Buckskin V}?
. ‘ r in . / - . sum ._
3?) Tshznnreid Ridinmfie G. $.13. 13%.... The oy Pnrdll. By 305. E. Badger. Jr. ' . w
91 The Captain ol'the C uh; or,'1‘m: YOUNG 4 Gold Plume. rm: Bar Bum. Ingraham. 298 The Water-Hound; or. Tn Yom‘ 
Rn,“ Am“ By Bracebrl e Hemyrm 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom. By Wheeler TEDROUGBRED. By Charles Morris. - ,-
92 canad‘ Chef By Edward L, eel", 206 Dark Paul, TEE TIGER Kmo. By 0. Morris 999 A No. 1 the Dashing Tonal-war.
$3 The Boy Miners. Byi'Edward S. Ellis.  gag ooylfilé; “1'3 8'1;- C-giagfiaggh. By Edward L. Wheeler.
v , . y comes. . .
2: he: 2:339:33”    m  am... no...  T..h.:.kr.e°.-::r.i   w
93 w.tch.Eye mm Sniww 8):]; L Wheeler. 210 Faro Frank of H 11 Pine. By E ster. ‘ , l', ,.
97 The Oath“; Brothers ' BY J' J’Marshau. 211 Crooked Cale. B ' 03. E. Bad er,  301 Leadviiie Nick, Tall: BOY SPORT. By“. ' . ,
98 Robin Hood. By Prof 'Gimergye'em 212 Dunning Dave. Charles om... E. L. St. Vmin. l . ..
99 The “tor of Taoa. By a Waldo Browne. 213 Fri". ‘0 "'0 From- By E. I. Wheeler. 302 The Mountain Detective. By '1'. c.
100 Deadwood mnk in Lehdvnle. or A 214 \Voligang THE ROBBER- or mi: Rama. Hurbaugh. . .
. Wan sum“! ’03 Law “seelér By Captain rederlck Whittaker. 303 ,Lua Jane m Gum Mm“ B EL.
[01 Jack Harkaway in Ne'w ork fiy 215 Captain Bullet. B¥lfi C. Harba ii. Wheelen ’ ' y
Bracebridge Hem :3. ' 216 Bison Bill. By COL rentiss Ingm am.
A l 102 Dick Dead-Eyye. By 001.11) mham 217 Captain Crack-Shot. By E. L. Wheeler. 304 TheBnoad Shot Dandy; «mum-mm ,_
_ 103 The Lion of the Sea, By 00% Danes“... 218 Tiger Tom. TEE Tun: TERROR. Coomes. 30‘ val“- B) 001- P- Inflamm- ‘ £7;
E. 104 Deadwood D1;- 9: Device. 13 heeler' 219 Despard, the Duelist. B'P. S.Warne. 305 Danilaway. 01‘ Dakota or.A W . v
.. ’ 105 Old Rube, Glynn. Ca. t. ,Ilolmes: '220 Tom Tanner. By Charles ll orris. LAD m rm: mem Crrr. Chas. Morris.
_\ 103 old Frosty. um. By'IPC. Hurbaugh, 22'1 sugar floated Sam. By E. L. Wheeler. 306 Ned‘s!” Ned m m,“ “mm. or
i 107 One-Eyed Si' ' ByJfimeS 14- Bowen. 222 Grllo the Bravo spon‘ mmhm- Tm: Duo-Our Plans By Major Hen ' B:
108 Darinx 1’" ' BY Hmfifi} G°°We~ 223 Ozark A”, K“ 0" m 0""“N- 3 Stoddard ErScout. ' '7 -
109 Deadwood l) ck an tective. By Edward Willett. ' . I r
' Edward L. Wheeler. 224 Dashing,r Dick. B Oll Coomee. A new ism every week. - .
110 The Black steed oi‘ the Prairies. A 225 Sam Charcoal. y Charles Morris. The guy-.31.". 1,1an is for we I, m ‘
‘ Sto of Texan Adventure. By Bowen. 226 Snoozer THE BOY SW. 8 E. LWheeier. Hemmer-a, five conga pal-co or sent by m on.
in The a- vii. By 001. Eben-ham. 22'! Dusky liarrell-Tmm E. Emerson. reeel t or six oentil each. ‘3’th em '
112 The Mad. Hunter. By 3141101154135. 228 Little Wildfire. Binl Ooomee. Pub era, as William Street, New York. ~

 

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Ph' ' S. Warns.
The Dare-Devil. y Col. . In em.
Kit Carson, Jr. B Buckskin
The Kidna per. gPhili S. Warne.
ends. yA. .Morris.
Wildcat Do 1). By Edward L. Wheeler.
7 Death-Notch. B Oil Coomes.
8 The Headless orscman. A strange
story of Texas. By Captain Ma ne Reid.
9 Handy And . B Samuel ver.
10 g‘idofiq, the em: Police Spy. Written by
use

1 Midshipman Easy. By Ca tain Marryat.
The Death-Shot. By Ca ta n Mayne Reid.
By Dr. J. H. binson.
yendanegea. B Ned Buntlinc.
cr-Sia er. yGustsve Aimard.
he W lite W zard. By Ned Buntline.
ightshadc. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.
he Sea Bandit. By Ned Buntline.
lied Cedar. By Gustave Aimard.
The Bandit at Ilay. By Gustave Aimard.
Trapper’s Daughter. By G. Aimard.
22 Whitelaw. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.
23 The Red “Warrior. By Ned buntline.
24 The Prairie- Flower. By G. Aimard.
25 The Gold Guide. By Francis Johnson.
26 The broth-Track. By Francis Johnson.
27 The Spotter Detective. By A. W. Aiken.
28 Three-Fingered Jack. B J. E. Badger.
29 Tiger Diek, the Faro  y P. S. Wame.
80 Gospel George. By Jos. . Badger Jr.
31 The New York Shar . By A. . Aiken.
82 D’ho’s of Yale. By . D. Vase.
83 Over and Kit. By Albert W. Aiken.
34 Rocky Mountain Rob. B A. W. Aiken.
85 Kentuck, the Sport. ‘1’}; rtW. Aiken.
86 I an Dick. B Albert Aiken.
37 ill H, the Hunc back. By Dr. J. 11. Rob-

neon.
88 Velvet Hand. ByAlbert W. Aflren.

39 The Russian Spy. By Fred. Whittaker.
40 g'he Lon Haired ‘Pards.’ By Joseph

W r.

7 41 Gold 11. B Albert W. Aiken.
42 The Californ a Detective. By Aiken.
43 Dak mes. '

By 011 Coomes.

45 Old Bull’s Eye. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

46 Bowie-Knife Ben. BK 011 Coomes.

47 Paciiic Pete. B Josep E. Badger. Jr.

48 Idaho Tom. y 011 Coomes.

49 The Wolf Demon. B Albert W. Aiken.

50 Jack Rabbit. By Jos. . Badger, Jr.

B 011 Coomes.

5 The Death ' railer. By Buffalo Bill.

5 Silver Sam. By Col. Dells Sara.

54 Always On Hand. B, Philip S. Warne.

55 The Seal Hunters. y Capt. Mayne Reid.

56 The 1nd an Mazeppa. By A. W. Aiken.

57 The Silent Hunter. B Perc B. St. John.

58 Silver Knife. By Dr. J. . R0 inson.

59 The Man From Texas. By A. W. Aiken.

60 Wide AIvake. B Frank Dumont.

61 Captain Seawai . By Ned Buntline.

62 Loyal Heart. B Gustave Aimard.

63 The Win ed W ale. By A. W. Aiken.

- By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

By Ca t. F. Whittaker.

T S ecter arque. Igy Magne Reid.

61 he oy Joekei‘. By Jos. E. edger. Jr.

68 The Fighting rapper. By Captain J.

F C Adams.

gyCa t. F.Whittaker.

Dr. J. . Bo inson.

iade. By J as. E. Badger.

The K i m r u a is)?" W' Agenfi
n o I 1 . .

J. H. Robinszon. e 6 r0” y r

Captain of the Rifles. By Mayne Reid.
Gentleman George. By A. W. Aiken.
The (fineen’s Musketeers. By G. Albony.
The resh oi' Frisco. By A. W. Aiken.
The Mysterious Spy. By A. M. Grainger.
Joe Phcnix, Police Sny. By A. W. Aiken.
A Man of Nerve. By Philip S Warne.
The Human Tiger. By Albert W. Aiken.
82 Iron Wrist. By Col. T. H. Monste .

83 The Gold Bullet Sport. By Bu alo Bill.
84 Hunted Down. By Albert W. Aiken.

85 The Cretan Rover. By Col. P. Ingraham.
86 Tlfigig Hunter. By the author 0: “Silent

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69 The irish Ca tain.
70 Hydrabad. 3%
'71 Captain Cool-
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87 The Scarlet Captain. By CokDelle Sara.
88 Big George. By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

89 The Pirate Prince. By Col. P. Ingmham.
’90 Wild Will. By Buckskin Sam.

91 The Winning Oar. By A. W. Aiken.

92 Buil'alo .Dill. ByMajor Dangerfield Burr.
93 Captain Dick Talbot. By A. W. Aiken.
94 Freelance, the Buccaneer. By P. Ingraham.
95 Azhort, the Axman. By A. P. Morris.

96 Double-Death. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
97 Bronze Jack. By Albert W. Aiken.

98 The Rock Rider. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
99 The Giant Rifleman. By 011 00011165.
100 The French Spy. ByA. P. Morris.

101 Ignan From New York. ByAlbert

102 The Masked Band. By Geo. L. Aiken.
103 Merle, the Mutineer. By 00!. Inst-sham.
1‘04 Mommas» the Merciless. By Col.

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105 Dan Bgown of Denver. By Joseph E.
ger. r.
106 Shamus O’Brien. By Col. Delle Sara.

107 Richard Talbot of Cinnabar.
Albert W. Aiken.

108 The Duke of Diamonds. By Captain
Frederick Whittaker.

l 09 Captain Kyd. By 001. Prentiss Ingrahsm.
1 10 The Silent Rifleman. By E, W. Herbert.
1 1 l The Sinuggler Captain. By N. Buntlinc.

i 12 Joe Phenix, the Private Detective. By
Albert W. Aiken.

l 13 The Sea Slipper. By J. H. Ingraham.

114 The Gentleman From Pike. By P.
S. Warne.

1 1 5 The Severed Head. By Capt. Whittaker.
1 1 6 Black Plume. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.
1 1 7 Dashing Dandy. By Dangerfield Burr.

118 The Burglar Captain. By Prof. J. H.
Ingraham.

1 19 Alabama Joe. By J0s. E. Badger, Jr.
120 The Texan Spy. By 11. M. Curtis.

121 The Sea Cadet. By Col. P. lngraham.
122 Saul Sabberday. By Ned Buntline.
123 Alapaha, the Squaw. By F. Johnson.

124 Assowauns, lin- Avenger; or, The
Doom of the Destroyer. By Francis Johnson.

125 The Blacksmith Outlaw; or. Merry
. England. By Harrison Ainsworth.

126 The Demon Duelist. By Col. Monetary.
127 Sol Scott. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

128 The Chevalier Corsair. By the author
or “ Merle, the Mutineer.“

1 29 Mississippi Mose. By Edward Willett.
130 Captain Volcano. By A. W. Aiken.
1 31 Buckskin Sam. By Col. P. Ingraham.

l 32 Nemo, King of thc Tramps. By Capt.
Frederick Whittaker.

133 Body, the Rover. By W. Carleton.

1 34 Darkie Dan. By 001. P. Ingraham.

135. The Bush Hanger. By F. Johnson.

1 36 The Outlaw-Hunter. By 1‘. Johnson.

1 37 Long Beard. By 011 Coomes.

138 The Border Bandits. By F. Johnson.
1 39 Fire-Eye. By 001. Prentiss Ingraham.

140 The Three Spaniards. By Geo. Walker:
141 Equinox Tom. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

1 42 Captain Crimson. By Dangerfield Burr.
143 The Czar’s Spy. / By 001. T. H. Monstery.

144 The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.
By Victor Hugo.

145 Pistol Pards. By Wm. R. Eyster.

146 The Doctor Detective. By G. Lemuel.
1 -17 Gold Spur. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

1 A18 One-A rmcd Air. By Oi] Coomes.

149 The Horde rIRiiles. By Gustave Aimard.
1 50 El Rubin Bravo. By Col. Monstery.

1 5 1 The Frecbooters. By Gustave Aimard.

1 5 2 Captain Iron-nerve. By Marmaduke Dey.
l 53 The White Scalpcr. By Gustave Aimard.
1 54 Joaquin, the Saddle King. By J. E. Badger.
155 The Cor-air Queen. By Col. Ingraham.
1 56 Velvet Face. By Major Dangerfield Burr.

157 Mourad, the Mainelukc. By Colonel
Thomas Hoyer Monstery.

158 The Doomed Dozcn. By Dr. F. Powell.
1 59'Red Rudiger. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
160 Suit Hand, Sharp. By Wm. R; Eyster.
161 The Wolves of New York. By Aiken.
162 The Mad Mariner. By Col. lngiaham.
163 Ben Brion. By Dr. J. H.,Robinson.

161 The King’s Fool. By C. Dunning Clark.
1 65 Joaquin, the Terrible. By'J. E. Badger, Jr.
166 Owlet, the Rubber Prince. By S. R. Urban.
167 The Man of Steel. By A. P. Morris.
168 \Vild Bill. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
169 Corporal Cannon. By Col. Monstery.

1 70 Sweet William. By Jos. E Badger, Jr.

1 7 1 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iron Heart. By
Philip S. Warn .

. l
1 72 The Black Pirate. By Col. P. Ingraham.
173 California John. By Albert \V. Aiken.
1 74 Phantom Knights. By Capt.Whittaker.

175 Wild Bill’s Trump Card. By Major
Dangerfield Burr.

1 76 Lady Jaguar. By Captain Mark Wilton.
177 Don Diablo. By 00!. Prentiss Ingraham.
1 78 Dark Dashwood. B‘y Major Sam 8. Hall.

'179 Conrad. the Convict. By Prof. Stewart
Gddersleeve, LL. D.

180 Old ’49. 'By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

181 The Scarlet Schooner. ByP. lngraham.
182 Hands Up! By Wm. R.‘Eyster.

188 Gilbert. the Guide. By C. D. Clark.

By

1 8-1 The Ocean Vampire. By Col. Ingraham.

185 The Man Spider. By A. P. Morris.

186 The Black Bravo. By Buckskin Sam.

187 The Death‘s Head Cnirassiers. By
Captain Frederick Whittaker.

188 The Phantom Mazeppa. By Major

1 89 By lug-raham.

Dangerfield Burr.

Wild Bill’s Gold Trail.
1 90 The Three Guardsmen. By Alex. Dumas
1 91 b'i‘hc Terrible Tonkaway. By Buckskin

am.

1 92
1 93
l 9 4
1 9 5

The Lightning Sport. By W. B. Eyster.
The Man in Red. By Capt. Whittaker.
Don Sombrero. By Capt. Mark Wilton.
§lic Lone Star Gambler. By Bucksldn
‘ m.

196

197
198

La Marmosct, the Detective Queen. By
Albert W. Aiken.

Revolver Rob. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

The Skeleton Schooner. By Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham.

199 Diamond Dick. By Buckskin Sam.
200 gel}: Rifle Hangers. By Captain Mayne
1 .

201 The Pirate of the Placcrs.
E. Badger, Jr

202 Cactus Jack. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

203 The Double Detective. By A. W. Aiken.

20-1 Big Foot Wallace. By Buckskin Sim.

By J oseph-

' 205 The Gambler Pirate. By Col. Ingraharn.

206 One Eye, the Cannoneer. By F. Whittaker.
207 Old Hard Head. By Philip S. Warne.
208 The White Chief. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
209 Buck Farley. By Edward Willett.
210 Buccaneer Bess. By Col. P. lngraham.
211 The Unknown Sport. By F.Whittaker.
212 The Brazos Tigers. By Buckskin Sam.
213 The War Trail. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
214 The Two Cool Sports. By W. R. Eyster.
21 5 Parson Jim. By Captain 1“. Whittaker.
216 The Corsair Planter. By P. lngraham.
217 She Serpent of El Paso. By Buckskin
m.

218  Wild Huntrcss. By Capt. Mayne
219 The Scor ion Brothers Ca tain
Mark wumnl.) " By p I

220 The Specter Yacht. By Col. Ingrahun.
221 Desperate Duke. By Buckskin Sam.
222 Bill, the Blizzard. By Edward Willett.
223 Canyon Dave. By Captain Mark Wilton.
224 Black Beard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham-
225 Rocky Mountain A]. By Buckskin Sam.
226 The Mad Hussars. By Capt. Whittaker.
227 Buckshot Ben. By Capt. Mark Wilton.
228 The Maroon. By Capt. Mayne Reid. ‘
229 Captain Cutsleeve. By Wm. R. Eyster.

230 The Flying Dutchman of 1880. By
Capt. Frederick Whittaker. ‘

231 The Kid Glove Miner or The Meg‘ch -
Doctor of Golden Gulch. By Col. 1". Ingraham.

232 Orson Oxx the Man of Iron. By Isaac-
Hawks, Ex-Degective.

233 The Old Boy of Tombstone; or..
Wagering a Life on a. Card. By J. E. Badger.
234 £111: Hunters, Feast. By-Captain Mayne-

285 Bed Lightning. the Man of Chance. By
Colonel Prentiss lngraham. /

236 Champion Sam. By Col. '1‘. H. Monstery.

237 Long-Haired Max ' or The Black League-
ot the Coast. By Capta n k Wilton.

238 Hank Hound, the New Orleans Detective.
By.A. P. Morris.

239 The Terrible Trio. By Buckskin Sam.

240 A Cool Head; or. Orson Oxxin Peril.’ By
Isaac Hawks, ilk-Detective.

241 pltiire Saul King of the Bustiers. By
Joe. E. Badger. r.

242 The F0 Devil: or, The s r of the
Flash. Byg Capt. Fred. Whittakesppe

243 The Pilgrim Shar ' or The Soidi ‘
Sweetheart. Bv Buflaiog’lll. ’ e”

244 Merciless Mart rss MAN-T! M -
scum. By Buckskii; Sam. on o, m

245 Barranca Bill was Ravonvzn Cnamom
By Captain Mark Wilton.

246 Mountain Matt rs: onx W Lu? .
CHANCE Cm. By Edward Willett.

247 Qucen ’Helen, was Alum or m cm-
usn. By Col. Prentiss Ingrsham.

Anew-um every mat. \-
Beadie’s Dime Library is for sale by m,
Newsdealers, ten cents percopy, or sent by mail on

reoeht oi twelve cents each. BEADLE a ADAHE.

v

 

. Publishers. 98 William Street. New York.