, / ‘ Ill / / . \ ’/ r‘.”)pYIQIGHTED ll\: IBS3.TZY ELTADLE & [\D/‘Hflfi. Ennmm u m POST Orncx n- Nrw Yonx. N. Y., n 8mm.) Cum Inn. mm ' 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. \ y‘ m \\ \w ~/ _ ‘\§§\§ \\\\§\:’ \‘ N. ‘ \V _ \‘\\_‘ \\\‘\\\ \ \ \\ 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 ,“ 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'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 l l 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, ‘ '47}? 7'._. :..I ' '~,;; f‘LC give\ Tlssada your name, and describe you - v «f» i *2 fiu-li? B‘U'm‘G-L'.‘ ll EHHO mmunammvmwmanKQ d 4 fl B GO Grammy MH’E'IE’ MOEQAG u (*A v e + i? ’3 v. ' The ‘Fog Devil. 21‘” 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 _ v I / '», 22 L, . 4.: The Fog Devil. . _... 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: - 21.4.”; ya...- “;‘S—n3-Yfi_‘m;smh15 ,-w..;,.._..-._ MW..- . .m. .2. . ,— .....-a....~.. -_ ...; v... .. .._. and“... -‘A._, __..... __ a. is 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- ~ l a. .___.__.... had ha ‘ ‘ “ ‘ '1 Ma.“ .,w~v<./I’H., “J, _ ,_, a, ‘ b I z ,w. ‘ui‘ fia,:’_\.}\-,i,elsvgz .21.»;- «,.;e' r. 5m, v' - . i i I 25 / The Fog Devil. A] 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. / . THE 1 L'ALLA Roots. By’l'homas Moor-6.... . . . . . . .. 10c 2 DON JUAN. By Lord Byron . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 20c 41 Puma: LosT. By John Milton ............ .. 10c ‘ 4 THELADY orTHE LAEE. BySirWalterScott.. 10c ‘ 5 Loan. By Owen Meredith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 100 I 6 UNDINE; or, THE WATER-SPIRIT. From the 'Sunnysidg Library. 56 THE INDIAN MAZEPPA. y A1 rt . Aiken... 100 57 THE SILENT HUNTER. B ' Perc B. St. John... 10c 158 SILVER y Dr. . H. Obinson . . . . . 10c 59 THE MAN FROM TEXAS. B Albert W. Aiken. 10c 60 WIDE AwAEE. By Frank Ont . . . . . . . . . 100 61 CAPTAIN SEAWAIF. Ned Buntiine... 100 62 LOYAL HEART. By ustave Aimard 100 63 Tax; Wmosn an. B Albert W. Aiken... 10c 64 DOIIELE SIGHT. By Joe. .Badger Jr. 10¢ 65 THE RED RAJAH. By Capt. Fred. 'Whittaker. 10¢ 66 THE SPerR BARQUE. By Ca t. Mayne Reid... 100 67 THE BOY JOCEEY. By Josep E. Badger, Jr... 10c 68 THE FIGHTING THAI-PER. By J. F. 0. Adams. 10c 69 THE IRISH CAPTAm. B Capt. F. Whittaker. 100 70 HYDRABAD. B Dr. J. . Robinson . . . . . . . . . .. 10c 71 CAPTAIN COOL LADE. By JosE. Badfiken'Ji-A 10c 72 THE PHANTOM HAND. By Albert W. en... 10c 73 THE KNIGHT or THE RED CRoss. By Dr. J. H. Robinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10c 74 CAPTAIN or THE RIFLES. Capt. Mayne Reid. 100 75 GENTLEMAN GEORGE. By Albert W. Aiken... 100 76 THE UEEN's MusEETEER. B Geo. Aibony... 10c 77 THE REsH or FRIsCO. By bert W. Aiken.. 10c 78 THE MYsTERIovs SPY. B A. M. Grainger.... 100 79 JOE PHENIX. By Albert . Aiken . . , . . 10c 80 A MAN or NERVE. B Philip s. Warne .... .. 10c 81 THE HUMAN TIGER. Albert W. Aiken. 10c 8?. IRON WRIST. By Col. Omas H. Monstery.. 10c 8‘3 GOLD BULLET SPORT. By Buffalo Bill ....... . . 100 84 HUNTED DOWN. By Albert W. Aiken . . . . . . .. 10c 85 THE CRETAN ROVER. By Col. P. Ingraham.... 10c 86 THE BIG HUNTER. Author of “Silent Hunter." 100 87 THE SCARLET CAPTAIN. B Coi.De11e Sara.... 10c 88 BIG GEORGE. By Joscgm . Bad er, Jr.. inc 8!) THE PIRATE PRINCE. y Col. P. ngraham. . .. 10c L 90 WILD WILL. By Buckskin Sam . . . . . . . . . . . .. 10c - 91 THE WINNING OAR. By Albert W. Aiken. . .. 100 92 BUREALO BILL. By Major Dangerfield Burr .. 10c 9‘3 CAPTAIN DICE TALDOT. By Albert W. Aiken.. 10c 94 FREELANCE, THE BucoANEER. By Ingrahamu 10c 95 AZHORT. THE AXMAN. By Anthony . Morris. 10c r i German of Friederich De La Matte Fouque. . 16c ! For sale by all newsdealers. or sent. postage paid on receipt of twelve cents for single numbers, double numbers twenty-four cents. ADAMSVIUI'ORt 00., _ .ijfiWiliiam‘stI-eet', New York. ' , 3:. « . I ., _ , l. as 7 I i : 12‘ w‘f, 1;" ~ 2,. Beadle’s Dime Library. 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 8 THE HEADLEsa HoRsEMAN. By Mayne Reid... 10c 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(- 22 WHITELAW. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. .. . 10c 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: 21' THE SPOTTER DETECTIVE. By Albert W.Aiken.. 10c 28 THREE-FINGERED JACK. Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 10c 29 TIGER DICE, THE FARO KING. P. S. Warns . 10c 30 GOSPEL GEORGE. By Joseph E. Ba er. Jr 10c 31 THE NEw YORE SHARP. By Albert .Aiken.. 10c 32 Know or YALE. By John D. Vose . . . . . . . .. 1 33 OVERLAND KIT. Bv Albert W. Aiken . . . . . . .. 100 34 ROCKY MOUNTAIN a. By Albert W. Aiken.. 10c 35 KENTUCR. THE SPORT. B Albert W. Aiken.. 10c 36 INJ'IIN DICE. By Albert . Aiken . . . . . . . . .. . 10c 37 HIRL, THE HUNCHDACE. By J. H. Robinson... 10c 88 VELVET HAND. By Albert W. Aiken. . 10c 39 THE RusSIAN SPY. By Frederick Whittaker. 100 40 THE LONG HAIRED ‘ PARDs.’ J. E. Badger,Jr.. 18c 41 GOLD DAN. By Albert W. Aiken. . . . . . . . . . .. 1 c 42 THE CALIEORNIA DETECTIVE. A. W. Aiken . 4:1 DAKOTA DAN. By Oil Coomes .. . 44 OLD DAN RACEHACE. By Oil Coomes.. 45 OLD BULL‘s EYE. By Joe. E. Badger 46 BOWIE-KNIPE BEN. By 01] Coomes.. 47 PACIFIC PETE. Bv Jos E. Badger, J 48 IDAHO TOM. By Oil Coomes. . . 49 THE WOLE DEMON. By Albert W. Al 50 JACK RAnnrr. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr . 51 RED Ros THE BOY ROAD-AGENT. Oil Co 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 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 -45.:1‘ L" n“) r‘ 4:? 'w / I ,1 2. ,.l ‘ \ m“. ‘ '_ :‘t. “ «:23. . ' '39 For Her Dear Sake. ., .57 A Brave Waverlle, Li 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 e .‘ecre arrlnge. B Sara Claxton 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- e 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. s wn a u' or net or Not. B r ‘39 rdigtbeltli gout with? ' Gll‘ y a on; or, cm: 1’5 Good Name. 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. The C 1 The- Masked nu ‘ mm? 13me do; or, Will She Marry 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 3“— co l ‘ .- museum em~aa~ {.131 Hl-Il-I s: H l-ll-lh‘ n r-I-I sud—nun ~O #3 00-1 5 6 6 6 6 6 8 6 8 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- dealers five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re- ceipt of six cents each. I BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, ' 98 William street, New York. i Q, 9' ——1 BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. 1—— 1 Deadwood Did-k ‘mn Pruner: or 1'31: Row 13 Jack Ho . w 137Edward L. Wheeler. [4 The BlacfrlgeinoIEliel-fmllroéxhfiigfguck Tailggtfiufithhné 0%); 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 3 Hannah King. 8- alo Bill. ' 16 The Huimar (1a taln. Col. P. in aham. 232 Gold- ult Dichv ' B (lili- all} ‘ 66101“ 4 The Wild-Horse untern. By Captain 17 Gilt-Edged Die . By E. L. Whee er. ' 233 Joe Buck oi'Au'elo yB ’ A W‘ Alteu' Mayne Bald and Captain Frederick Whittaker. 18 Will semen. me Boy Dir-rooms. Morris 234 old nock’ym i noK eo‘. ’ yi3 ks'nnso 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. 9 . « 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, , I pmwwMHHfl-fluui—I-fldufl—II—I—HHull-IHl-II-II-II-Il-Il-Il-Il-n-Il-II-Il-II-Il-Il-Ip-uI-II-I-II-Il-Il-Ii-Ii-I I-II-Il-Ii-I v-Ir-Il-Il-n—Il—ui-I—Il-II-n-Il—l—o-iinn——undid—II-H—H-ii-i—h‘l-Il-I-d-I—nn—H— ww—comqamhwn—ccmqmmowwuoomqamfiww-owooqannotate—Iowans! @Vllbw ocoecwwcmeaccawmmmmammmmmqaq444-1-1quaaaaaaaaczacwm mama! 'l 7 'l ‘l' I '4 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. ~ .‘\’\ . r 1 ’ '51 Red Rob. .1 A.-.“ "on . 1......._:..is v , , . -wa..._..a-.... a... «m...m.a~~.n 4...”-.. _....- .r... .. _.... . r _ADI. ’SJUIP I M animals ARY. 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 NHHHHHHHHi-l ecu-lamest» 69 The irish Ca tain. 70 Hydrabad. 3% '71 Captain Cool- 7: The Phantom Hand. 4 5 6 7 q @mdg-l-l-l-l H°€ 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. l 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.