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Published Ev“, cBeadle g9~ ﬂ d CLTYLS, QDLLbZ‘ITs hers, Ten Cent: 3. Copy. V 01 X 

W°d“°5d‘y' 98 WILLIAM STREET. N. Y.. April 10, 1889. 35-00 “ nu"

 
THE LIFE WREGK.

A Romance of Sea-Birds of Prey
and a. Companion Story of
the “Fleet Scourge."

BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM,

AUTHOR OF “ THE FLEET SCOURGE,” “ SAVAGES
OF THE SEA,” “MERLE TEE MUTINEER,"
“THE PIRATE HUNTER," ETC.

7

CHAPTER I.
THE WICKED MIDDY.

MEN predicted that Mark Mountjoy would
end his life upon thefnllows, for, from boyhood,
he had been a Wi] , reckless dare-devil, one
whose exploits as a cabin-boy on board of a clip-
per ship out of Boston. had twice gotten him
the berth of a. middy in the infant navy of the
United States, and whose love of mischief had
each time gotten him dismissed the service.

The son of a, worthy clergyman dwelling in a.

 
A SPLENDID—LOOKING MAN, CUTLASS IN HAND, LEAFED ON BOARD, To SUDDENLY
START BACK As THERE CAME FROM THE LIPS OF ALMA SHIELDS:
“CAPTAIN MOUNTJOYX AND A PIRATE!”

 
«

2

v.4 .,.),, 
. ,.Yl,,.,.

The; Doomed Whaler.

 
village near Boston, he had been the terror of
the parish, and, after one of his escapades, had
run off and gone to sea.

The next heard of him by his distressed pa-
rents, was when he walked into the family pew
onc Sabbath afternoon wearing the uniform of
an American millslnpmun, and he bore letters
with him to show thathe had saved the life of
a naval ofﬁcer by killing a pirate on his own
deck, and thus won his place deservedly.

There was hope then for Mark Mount'oy, and

the heart of his girl sweetheart, pretty ola La
Salle, one of Deacon La Salle’s tWin daughters,
beat high with hope, for, since she could remem-
ber, she had loved the little dare-devil lad.
. And his father and mother had hope too that
he would change; i but no, for Mark horriﬁed the
villagers before he had been home two weeks by
his wild acts, and he was forced to go to sea to
escape going to jail, when soon after news came
that he had been dismissed from the service' for
playing jokes on the commodore:

Again he. became a cabin-boy, and on a vessel-
of-war, and one night when off a port in Al-

an be deserted, swam ashore; turned Ma-

omedan, joined. an Algerine corsair, learned
where its rendezvous was and the American and
other captives held there, and swimming out to
his old vessel, when she again came offshore,
gave the'ilformation he had'obtained.

Under his guidance the rendezvous was sur-
prised by night, the Algeriues severely punished
and the captives released, and the daring cabin-

.boy became once more Midshipman Mark Mount-

0‘].

J But the lad had the Old Nick born in him,
and some wild escapade again caused hisdis-
missal from the navy, and for years nothing
was heard of him.

One night, just twenty-two years after Mark
Mountjoy was born, in the little rectory on the
hillside, a vessel dropped anchor of? the harbor
of the town, and a boat containing two oarsmen
and a cloaked form in the stern-sheets, rowed
shoreward. . ‘

The one at the tiller seemed to know the
waters well, for he guided his boat toe. point not
far from the church where the Reverend Mount-
jo had been pastor for nearly twenty years.

’I‘he cloaked individual sprung ashore, said a
few words to the oarsmen in a low tone and
walked toward the rectory, which was not far
from the church.

A light burned in one room, and as the cur-
tains were drawn back the visitor beheld a per-

, son seated within, a book in his hand.

“ Who can he be?" he muttered, and then he
let fall the havy brass knocker on the door.
: The one who was reading laid aside his book

, and came to the hall-door himself.

He beheld a tall. dark-faced, handsome man,
with ﬂashing, fearless eyes and in the attire of
a. sailor.

“ Pardon, sir, but I would see the Reverend
Mountjoy,” hesaid. . -

The one he addressed started, gazed at the
visitor, and said politely, yet in an embarrassed

wa :

‘yCome in, please.”

He led the way into the library and turning
motioued to a'chair. ,

Then he said: -

“ You arch stranger in these arts, sir?”

“ No, I know them well; but have been ab-
sent for seven years.” 1

“Changes have come in those years, sir, for
I am rector here now.” ‘ v

“And In father?" uickly asked the visitor.

“ Alas! , , if Mr. ountJoy Was your father,
he lies over yonder in the churchyard."

“ Dead! my God! dead I”

“ Yes, sir, he died three years ago.”

The stranger seemed deeply moved, and then
asked, almost in a whisper: '

“‘ And-m mother, sir?” '

“She die _one_ year before your father, and
lies by his side in the churchyard," and there
was sympathy 1n the young clergyman’s'tone.

The visitor arose and paced the room in silence
for a few minutes. i I

Then he turned quickly and said:

“ I need hardly introduce myself, sir, having
spoken of Mr. and Mrs. MountJoy asmy parents,
for you have heard of me.

“ There are those in this village have told you
of Mad Mark MountJoy, as they called me, and
maybe they have not exaggerated much. I gueds
I deserved all. / ‘

“ I am Mad Mark Mountjoy, sir, and I was
born in this house, in that room opening into
this one.

“ My parents are dead, and I suppose I broke
their hearts. .

“ Well, it was, predicted of me. with all‘ else
that was had, even that 1 would die ‘on the gal-
lows, or at the yard-arm, and maybe I Will.

“ Satan was born in me. my dear sir, and the
cloven foot must show itself in my nature.

“ But I loved those dear old people, I loved
them with all my heart and soul; ividing the

V love I held in my being for them with one other.

“ I was wild, reckless, erring, yes wicked, and
I went from bad to worst.
,. “ But I came to my senses one day, and I

turned over a new leaf, andI determined to lead
a different life. i . . l

 
“ I did so, and after seven years I have come
back, owner of my own vessel and a changed
man.

“1 have come back to ﬁnd them dead, dead
and believing me all that was bad.

“ I have talked to you, sir, because you hold
my father's place. on are a clergyman, and
this dear old home is your home now.

“ Left my parents no word for me, sir?"

“None, that I ever heard." . ,

“ They died unforgiving then, for the misery
1 had caused them?”

“ They were Christians, they were your pa-
rents, and so, in their hearts must have forgiven

ou.

“ Thank you for those words—that comfort
at least. . ' -

“ Here, sir, I meant this for them, and I give
it to you and ask you to' erect ovar them amoun-
ment worthy of them with half of it, and the
balance give to the r 'of "your parish]! and
unbuckling a belt heavy with gold from about
his waist, Mark Mountf'oy threw it upon the
table before the young c ergyman. 4 ‘

“ You will do this for me, sir? '

_ “ ,1, will sacredly perform the duty, Mr. Mount-
Joy. ,
“‘I believe you; but there is one question I
would ask you?" ,

“ As many as you lease. sir."

“There was a was. th merchant here in those
days of my boyhood— eacon La Salle.

“ Where is he?”

“ He has moved to Boston, sir, and gone into
business there."

“ Andw—and—his family 2"

“ Went with him.”

“ Thank you.” .

“ His two daughters, you know, are twins,
Etheland Lola, and one is married, and—”

“ My God! which , one?” cried the sailor ex-
citedly.

“ Ethel; she is Mrs. Monte,her husband being a
naval ofﬁcer.”

“ Ahl thank on.”

“ And she is walling here now, in the old La.
Ealle’ homestead, while her sister, Lulu is visiting

or. ‘

Mark Mountjoy started, and then said:

:“ £Vthank you, sir, many timesd I h

e may meet ain wi 0 so ope—
good-night.” ag ’ u ’

He turned abruptly and left ‘ the room, seem-
ingly deeply moved by some thought brought.
up by the words of the clergyman. .

CHAPTER 11'.
Too LATE. ’

“TEE CEDARS” was the old home of Henri
La Salle, arich merchant whose father, a French
noble had been driven an exile from France, and
found a refuge in America.

The son became a shipping merchant, and made

.money, and he was happy in his home. his wife

in? two children, twin daughters, Ethel and
o a. r

It was the latter that had been the “ sweet-
heart ” of mad Mark Mountjoy, and through all
he had been her beau ideal, ‘ oy hero.”

He had been her champion at the village school,

- and the little miss was never known to care for

others than the handsome young scapegrace.

When he at last left home, goiug‘no one knew
whither, she did not forget him, always defend-
ed him, and it pained her deeply as the years
went by to feel that he had forgotten his parents,
his home and her. .

Merchant La Salle, for the better education of
his beautiful daughters, sold out his business in
the little seaport, after the death of his loved
friend, Reverend Mountjoy, and went to Boston
to dwell. ‘

Years passed on and Ethel, one of the sisters,
married a distinguished young naval omcer,
Captain, Roland Monte, and went to dWell in the
old home, “ The Cedars.” '

Though suitors ﬂocked about her by the score,
Lola refused all offers.

She .was true to her ﬁrst and only love for the
roving scapegrace, Mark Mountjoy. ‘

Beautiful in face, exquimteg graceful in
form, well-educated and accomp bed, possessed
of a lovely disposition. added to the foot that
she was an heiress, Lola La. Salle was a. belle, ac-
knowledged by men and women alike.

But every suitor she gave the same reply to,
until last rumor. had it that she was en-
gaged. ' .

After herengagement, which was an acknowl-
edged fact, she went down to visit her sister at
The Cedars. ‘_ .

She wished a few weeks’ respite, she said.

i Bpt in reality she wished to Visit the old scenes
of her rlhood, see the little school-house on the
ridge w ere she had gone when Mark Mountjoy
carried her books to and fro from school, and
wander in the lanes and woods where they had
often wandered together;

This dreaming of a bygone love would indi-
cate that Lola. did not love the one to whom she
was betrothed, that there was more pleasure' in
the and past than in anticipation of the future.

One night her brother-indow and sister had
gone to an entertainment in the town,-and she
hall rnm‘oinerl at home. ,

 
Why, she did not know, but something im-
polled her to do so.

It was a perfect moonlight night, and the air,
though cool, was not unpleasantly so.

Throwing a wrap about her, she walked out
upon the. broad piazza of The Cedars. ,

The harbor lay before her, with the sea be-

yond, and the sullen roar of the surf came to

her ears.

The lights of the town half a mile away looked
like myriads of ﬁre-ﬂies, and the cross on the
spire of the little church stood out in bold relief
as if on ﬁre, lit up by the moon’s light.

The tombstones glimmered white and spectral
in the vale, as she gazed down upon the church-
yard, and the harbor was dotted with many
vessels at anchor.

Not far oﬂ’, anchored far away from the
other veSSels, she beheld a schooner, and the
wonder came to her why it was there.

The scene was one of beauty, of quietude un-
broken, and it soothed her heartache, for she
had indeed a ﬁt of the blues on that evening, as
within just one week she was' to become a.
bride.

Suddenly she saw a form coming up the walk
toward the mansion. V ,

It was‘a tall form, a. cloak over the shoulders,
and the step was quick and ﬁrm.

A visitor to her brother-in-law, she supposed,
some brother ofﬁcer in the navy doubtless.

But no, another moment, and the stranger
had reached the piazza, and the moonlight re-
vealed the two.

“ Mark!”

“ Lola!"

He had uttered the name with a lad cry.

He had opened his arms as he spo e her name,
and with a bound she reached his side and was
clasped to his broad breast, v

For a moment neither spoke.

Then suddenly, with astartled cry, she sprung
own from him, crying:

“ h. Mark, what have I dope!

“ But I was so glad to see you.

“ I knew you were not dead, not a pirate, as
people would make me belierbut oh! you
stayed away so long——too long, alas! too
longl”

The touching sadness of her last words caused
him to quickly say:

“ Lola. I remained away until I had cost the
past behind me, until I had won a vessel and a.
means of support, and then I came.

“ But, alas! I ﬁnd my parents dead, died of a.
broken heart, I am told, for my wayward
career.

“The old, home has another owner now, my
parents sleep yonder in the churchyard: but be—
fore I went to their graves I came to you, for I
was told you were here‘.

“ I came to tell you that I have never forgot- ’

to!) you, have always loved you, and to ask you
to be my wife.”

“ Alas! ‘you come too late I” ‘

“ Too late! What do you mean?” , I

“Mark, 1 love you, and the way I Just now
sprung into your arms proves ’lt.

“ I came down here to dream of our past, to
think of you, the last week I have to to self, for
I tell you, Mark, I am engaged to anot er.”

The strong man staggered under her words as
though struck 9. Severe blow. . _

He said, in a. voice low, hoarse and quivering:

“ You have broken your‘vows then, you have,

not been true to me, Lola?” _ _

“I have been true, for I still love you, Will
always love you: but my father was on the
verge of financial ruin, and there was but one
piece of property that was not mortgaged.

“ That was myself, and it had to go too, for I
was taken in lieu of so much gold, and one week
from to—night I marry Peter Rutledge, a man
older than my father, a miser, they say, and one
who lives the life of a recluse, but who is rich
beyond all belief.”

‘ By Heaven! but it shall not he!” cried Mark
Mountjoy. savagely.

“It must be. it shall be, for I have given my
word,'and unless I keep it my father, n his de-
spair. will end his own life, my mother will be
turned into the street, and we will be be gars.

" For myself I do not care, Mark, ut my
parents shall not suffer when I can save them.”

“ Would to Heaven that I was rich, that I
could help them; but I have only my vessel
and a few thousands.

“ But it shall not be. Lola La Salle, you shall
pot become this man’s wife.”_

“ I will do so, Mark, if it breaks my very
heart, destroys my soul even. furl am pledged

to my father and my mother. ledged by the '

holiest of vows, to become his wi e.
‘ “ Go, Mark, go from me forever, and now,
yes. now." _ a

She sprung toward him, her arms were ﬂung
about his neck, and she kissed him. ‘

Then with a strength that surprised him, she
tore herself from his arms and ﬂed.

For an instant he seemed about to follow: but
then, with a deep imprecation turned away and

walked rapidly I down -the vale toward the 

churchyard.

paused there with uncove
by the graves of his dead parents. ’ ' I

h,

., He’knew the famil bur lotw and.
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The Doomed Whaler.

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Then he turned away with something strange-
ly like an oath upon his lips, and said savagely:

“ The ast is buried, the future lies before me
and rec lessly I cast myself on the tide, let it
bear me where it will.”

Swiftly he strode back to the shore, sprung
into his waiting boat and half an hour after his
beautiful schooner was ﬂying seaward to go
whither a cruel fate led her daring master.

 
CHAPTER III.
WITH DYING LIPS ACCUSED.

IN what the townspeople called “ The Miser’s
Den ” a one-time handsome old stone mansion,
surrounded by large grounds, overgrown with
trees and weeds, and at the time it is presented
to the reader, an old rookery, a woman sat in
a room whose comforts compared strangely
with the desolation and neglect without.

The room was large, almost luxuriously
furnished, and opened into another that was
its counterpart in size and furniture.

A handsome lamp upon the table gave a

cheerful glow to the room, and a ﬁre burning
brightly upon the spacious hearth added heat,
for the night was dark, chilly and blustering,
with driving rain and sleet.
' The one who occupied the room was Lola La
Salle, that was, but married to a. man who Was
three-score years, a desﬁicable creature people
said, and known as Old iser Pete Rutledge.

His wealth was as unbounded as his mean-
ness, gossip said, and his young and beautiful
Wife was known to none among the people into
whose midst he had brought her.,

In the old home, tumble-down without, but
comfortable within the rooms they occupied,
they dwelt, some said‘ the young wife leading a
life of utter wretchedness.

Two old servants, in an out-house near, were
their only help, and day and night Lola passed
her days in this place which people said was a
living tomb. ‘

Beautiful as ever, her form more graceful in
the four years since she parted from Mark
Mount oy that night on the piazza of her old
home, ola Rutledge was pacing to and fro in
her room, her handsome dress clinging grace—
fully about her slender ﬁgure, and the train
sweeping far behind her.

Even in that place she was wont to dress up
every evening to please her old’ husband, for she
was a true wife. .

Her face had upon it a lock of dreamy sad‘
ness, as though her aching heart looked out
through mists of tears in her beautiful eyes.

She had been reading a book, but had thrown
it aside as the storm grew wilder, and began to
walk to and fro, her thoughts busy, as they ever
were with the past.

Suddenly she stopped in her walk and lis-
toned.

Then she opened the door and heard a loud
rgip, as though upon the front door of the man-
sion. .

“Strange, who can it be coming here?” she
murmured, as though it was strange indeed for
an one to visit there.

he heard a door open, on the ﬂoor below, a
step in the hall and a voice asked:

‘ Who is there?”

“A gentleman to see Mr. Rutledge on busi-
nezs of importance,” came the reply from with-
on

A key turned in the lock, some one was ad-
mitted, and she heard the door of her husband’s
library close. ‘

Then she closed her own door and entering
the room adjoining her own glanced over to-
ward a bed in one corner. ,

She glided toward it and stood looking upon
its occupants.

One was a lovely-haired boy of three, hand-
some and innocent in childhood.

The other was a golden-curled babv-girl of
one year, and the two were fast asleep, little
dreaming of what the world held in store for
them, and h0w blessed a thing it is that we
know nothing of the future, for what misery
would be ours could we but see whhtis before us.

“My darlings! ’ she said, almost passionately,
and dropping down upon her knees by the bed,
she cast her lovmg arms over them, as though
to shield them from some dreaded ill that
hovered above their 8166 ing forms. \

And thus she remain I , as though asleep upon
her knees until a wild cry for help rung
through .the house, and came from her hus-
band’s sitting-room, the one into which the
strange visitor hadbeen ushered.

‘The kn0ck that had aroused Lola above-stairs
had startled old Peter Rutledge, as he satin his
easychair before a. blazing ﬁre, looking over his
accounm, as it was his constant pleasure to do.

, He was a man with an intelligent face, cun-
Ill? withal, but not unkindly. .

_e dressad neatly, in black, which gave him a
clerical appearance, and altogether was not an
ungopossessing m . _
I had neared t ore years, and looked
even older, and yet these would say who ob-
served him that he was not an unhappy man.

He had bargained for his wife, bought her in

diet from _her father, and with her parents
dead, her Sister faraway, he endeavored in his

 
own way to‘ make her happy, to prevent her
from regretting that she had been sold to him.

Such was Peter Rutledge, the man whom Lola
had married and who, bound to him, had made
the best of life, being ever devoted in her duties,
and regarding him with respect and kindly feel-
ing{ in spite of what the world said.

at the world is wrong in its surmises nine
times out of ten, and “Madam Rumor” is a
most unconscionable liar, for she builds seeming
facts upon shadows.

Peter Rutledge was evidently surprised at the
knock on his front door, for they never had
visitors, and night was no time for a business
call.
He went to the door, opened» it and admitted
a man who was a stranger to him.

“ Well, sir, pray say why on have called?”
he said, when the two enters the library,‘and
he turned toward the stranger, a man of fine

hysi no, dark, stern face, restless eyes, and the
00k 0 a sailor.

“I am here, sir, to demand of you, in the
name of the son you drove from your doors, the
sum of ten thousand‘dollars, which be sadly
needs. You are rich, and just now luck is
against him, and he is in great want of the
mono .

“ Yyou have it, I know, for I came well in-
formed. You keep your, gold _here in your
house, Ialso know said the sailor, boldly, as

'he drew a jeweled stiletto from beneath his

cloak, as though to enforce his words, for the
miser thrust his hand in his bosom.
Peter Rutledge loved his beautiful wife in his

‘wcpdy, idolized his children, but his gold ‘was his
g y

and to take it would be like unto taking a
drop of his life’s blood with every gold piece.

Driven to desperation by the cool’ demand of
the stranger, for a son he had long hoped was
dead, he stood at bay, slowlyinovmg backward
his desk, where he kept a weapon. I

“ Who are you?” he asked, hoarsely, to gain
time.

“ I am a sea rover, sir.”

“ A pirate?”

“ Yes, sir, if so you will, and just now play—
ing the pirate ashore on your treasure, for I
must have what I demand.

" Come, out with your gold, old maul—ten
thousand dollars, no more, no less, for that _is
the sum your son asked for and the sum I Will
have for him. Obey me, and lose no time!”

As the daring freebooter uttered the last word, '

the miser had reached his desk, and thrusting
his hand into a drawer he drew out a pistol,
and with 8. cr of oxultation, he leveled the
weapon at the reehooter and pulled the trigger.
But, the powder ﬂashed in the pan,* and, with
a s ring, the pirate was upon the miser.
here was a cry for help from the old man, a
savage oath from the freebooter as he drove his
shar blade into the breast of his victim.
“ y God! Mark Mountjoy, you have killed
my‘husbandl”
he sailor turned at the words:
“ Lola! Good God!”
The words burst from the lips of Mad Mark,
and, as he uttered them, he turned and ﬂed

[from the room.

Her eyes fell upon the stiletto, and seizing it
for an instant she Seemed as though about to ﬂy
after him, then she turned and knelt by the side
of her husband.

“ You know him; Lola?” gasped the man,
over whose face the has of death was stealing.

Ere she could answer, the door was thrown
open and two men sprung into the room.

“Who did this deed?” exclaimed one of the
men. and he gazed suspiciously at Lola, who
held the knife of the freebooter in her hand.

“ She can tell you,” said the wiser, and they
were his last words, for he fell back dead, and
Lola, his beautiful wife, stood accused of’ mur-
der, acc sed of the deed of Mad Mark Mount-
joy, her over! ‘

CHAPTER IV.
AN UNKNOWN BIRD.

Tim season of gay festivities was at its hight
in the grand 01 city of New Orleans, and all
the town was on pleasure bent.

Music, laughter and joyous voices ﬁlled the
air, commin ling pleasantly together, and the
city was ab 8 with light in honor of Mardi
Gras, for with the ending of the reign of this
King of Pleasure, the sackcloth and ashes of
Lent must be puton, so an ii that time of re-

entance, “let the heart unconfined,” was
he motto of all the young people of the ever
gay metropolis of the Mexican Gulf.
masked ball was g’iveu that night at the
overuor’s mansiqu,+ and therein had gathered
t 0 “beauty and the chivalry” of the land of
the cotton‘aud the cane.

The mansion was a very large one,surrounded
by extensive ornamental grounds, ﬁlled with
cozy towers and arbors, and all surrounded by
a massive wall. ‘ ‘

The beauty of the night had tempted some of
the ,masqueraders into‘ the grounds, but as the

 
* Flint—lock ﬂresfrms h f
which Iwme' were used at t e time o

i New Orleans was then under a governor.

,‘ in

l _\V ' :. ,.,

 
supper hour drew near they had entered the
mansion, and the bowers and tubers were de—
sorted.

Within, all was grandeur, music and enjoy-
ment, and the scene was a gorgeous one, for the
grand old mansion had spread wide its doors for
the entertainment, and the maskers were danc-
ing, ﬂirting and promenading at will.

One beautiful lady, dressed asaGrsek maiden,
was fair] haunted by admirers, and it was
guessed t at they knew who she was, that she
was the den hter of a wealthy planter, dwelling
on the Miss ssippi above the c ty, and who was
said to be worth millions.

Suddenly a servant came up to her and placed
in her hand a note.

All saw her start as she read it, but the ex-
pression upon her face was not visible, so
Securely was every feature masked.

“ You must don me, gentlemen, for
awhile,” she sai , and declining all od'ars of
an escort, she glided away and disappeared in
another room.

Once free of those about her, she esca
others who sought to join her, and made or
waly alone into the gardens. ‘ .

here she paused, and by a lantern swinging
in a tree, again read the note which the servant
had handed to her. '

It read: ‘

“Come to the south ‘gate. Let no one seeyou.
Don’t fall. Lao."

“ Ah. me! some new trouble I fear, for he
only calls on me to aid him now.

“ But I can do nothing,” she murmured to
herself.

Yet, even with this decision, she went on her‘r
way and soon reached an arbor that stood at the
further wall of the garden. '

There was a massive gate there, set in the
wall, and near it stood a man wearing a cloak.

“Loo, is that you'll” she asked, as she drew
near.

“ Your brother Leo, mademoiselle, is not very
well, so awaits dyou in a carriage at the curb.

lwill can act you to him,” said the man,
p0 .

,She hesitated an instant, and then, as the gate
was thrown open, she stepped out upon the pave-
ment, where a carriage stood against the curb.

The door of the vehicle was open, and leaning
into it, the maiden said: .

“ Brother Leo, I am here.” ' ‘

She was grasped by strong arms from within,
and dragged into the vehicle, while the words
came in a stern voice: ~ ,

“ Quick! close the door and jump up with the
driver!” '

But the maiden gave one loud cryi'or help
and it was heard bya horseman who was ju
then passing, and he spurred in front of the
horses and seized their hridles. ’

There was a shot from the man on the box
with the driver, a return shot from the horse
man, a fall, and the horses were guided into a
tree and checked.

“ Hold your horses there, or I shall kill you!” I

came thestern command to the driver and the
horseman rung to the ground to confro
one who he leaped out of the carriage. ,

It was quick work. One man fell dead, just
as the maiden bounded out of the carriage. ~

“You are mfeélady, so have no fear,” said ' "

the horseman, an he added:

“You seem to have come from within these
grounds, so pray send for he] ." .

She uttered a few earnes words of thanks
and ran into the garden, to soon return with
several gentlemen, who discovered that the
horseman was master of the situation, for the
two kidnappers were dead. and the driver was a
prisoner. , . .

But the rescuer disappeared quickly, and who
he was no one knew.

The next day the peggrs told the story of the
kidnapping of the autifnl heiress, ' Alma
Shiel a and her rescue by an unknown horse-

man.
All knew how Planter Shields had two chil-

dren, a son and daughter, and that Lee, the son, ,

had thrown himself away and gone utterlyto
the bad; but it,was shown that he was not
guilty of the attempt to carry off his sis r, his

name being used by the kidnappers to l her .

into their power, and the one w 0 had attempted
the daring deed proving to be a discarded lover
of Alma's, who had run through historians by
wildest dissipation. \

One do. ,a week after, Alma was with her\ 2 
father an came suddenly upon the brave res-n

cuer. ,.
“ Oh, sir. you need not attempt to shun us, for
I know you. ' .

“ Father, this is the gentleman who saved me
from Paul Revenue.” "

The one whose hand she grasped was a tall,
splendid-looking man, with a dark, stern face,
and the apfpearancs of a sailor. ‘

“ I am airly caught,.Miss Shields, for so I
see by'the papers is your name; but I cared not
to be known, so kept quiet.

“Allow me to introduce myself as Mil-k 

Mouiitjp’y, a captain in the American merchant

serVice. ‘ .
Planter Shields then grasped the hand of the

young sailor, and thanked him warmly for the

nt the 

 
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service he had rendered him in saving his daugh-
ter from a fate worse than death.

“ Why, Captain Mountjoy, that villain had it
all arran ed to force my daughter into a mar-
riage wit him, and thus, as she has a large for-
tune in her own right, to get possession of it.

“ But you must not say us nay, sir, now that
we have found you, but go with us to my plan-
tation as our guest, for our carriage awaits us
yonder.”

It was useless to refuse, so Mark Mountjoy
was driven to his hotel, and then went home
with the planter and his beautiful daughter.

After a few days passed at the beautiful home
he took his leave, as he said his vessel was to sail
soon and he carried with him the heart of Alma
Shields, who little dreamed under what circum-
stances they next would meet.

CHAPTER V.
UNDER sssut COLORS.

A 1111mm had been committed in New 0r-
leans—a distinguished citizen halted in the
streets at night and told to deliver up his purse.

A bold man he had resisted, and he had re-
ceived his deat -wound, though he had brought
the robber down with a stunning blow.

Help had come and the robber had been ar-

It was Leo Shields, and with death on the gal-
lows staring the youn man in the face, the
father and sister determ ned to save him.

They spent gold with lavish hand, did all in
their power to save his life.

But all to no use, for he was condemned to
die on the gallows, and then came the startling
confession that he had, while acting wit

war of attorney for father and sister, dur-
igzt heir visit to France a year before,
mortga their property and gambled away
their al keeping up the interest however as
to hide his crime.

The crash came with a fearful blow, for the
poor planter took his own life the da his son
was hanged, and Alma, with a few t ousands
only left was glad to ﬂ from the scenes where
she had rei ed as a e and seek a home
with a relative in the far North.

She had taken passage for Boston on a pretty
brig, whose skigper now and then carried
passengers, ands e was given the best state-
room, and in fact the entire use of the cabin,
for she was alone.

The brig sailed well, and was a stench craft
as well, comfortable, and all that could be
done for the pleasure of the beautiful passen-
ger the captain and his mates did do.

It ‘was 03 Hatteras one afternoon, when
Alma dressed in deep black, and with her
beautiful face wearing a look of settled sad-
ness, came on deck to ﬁnd the brig ﬂying
along under clouds of canvas, and astern of
(bar a. league a large ,schooner evidently in

ase. /

She saw at a glance that something was
wrong, for the faces of the captain and his
crew showed it, and they looked confused when
she a peered. .

“ hat vessel seems to be in chase, Captain
Todd ” she said. ,

“ ell, miss, we are havin’ aleetle race,” was
the reply. .

“A race with an armed vessel, Captain
Todd, looks to me like a chase. 2

“ What is yonder craft, sir?”

“ To tell you .the truth, mi, we do think
he is a pirate,” said the ski per, seeing that
he could not deceive his beauti alipassenger.

“A pirate! so bad as that, air 'asked Alma,
and her lovely face paled as she glanced at
the ursaing schooner.

" e fear so, miss, me and my mates, for
he has an, ugly look and shows no ﬂag in answer
to ours.”

“ And he is gaining?” '

“ A little, miss, and its surprising, as ‘the
Pretty Pegg has always shown her heels to
all other cra t before."

“She is gaining rapidly, Captain Toch: and

' see! they are clearing a gun forwardto opewn

us,” and Alma Shields gazed throu h her own
glass, which she had brought on eck, at the
pursuing vessel.

The schooner was ﬂ ing along easily and
certainly gaining stead y upon the brig, and it
seemed a su rise to all that knew the splendid

speed of the retty Pegg .
The pursner was armed], carried no ﬂag, and,

I if a cruiser, was seemingly trying to make those

on the brig think otherwise.

Alma stood on deck watching her, with strange
interest. All her worldly ions were on
the brig, all that she had saved from the wreck
of her home, and in the cabin locked was a
of gold, amounting to some three thousan
dollars

Should the schooner be a pirate, she and her
little fortune were at his mercy. '

Bat f had been her loto late, and she had
i 'to suﬂ'er in silence.

In her brilliant social career her heart had
lagaver been' touched by a single one of her many

vers. ’

“ She had been indifferent to all, and had reach—

ed the age of twenty heart

free.
She had dearly loved her father and brother,

 
I and, wildas the latter had suddenly become,

when he had promised so well, she had done all
in her power to aid him.

Then had come the kidnapping act of a discard—
ed lover, and she met Mark Mountjoy.

From the moment she had looked into his
splendid eyes she had known her fate.

“ My destiny is to love that man,” she had
said to herself.

After his visit to the plantation he had gone ‘

of! on a voyage in his schooner, and then had
come her rother’s crime, trial, execution and
the sweeping away of their fortune, which had
ended in the death of her father.

What dreams she might have had, of again
meeting Mark Mountjoy, and missing his love,
were broken by the events that had happened,
and Alma was only nations to ﬂy far from the
scene of her girlhood, and seek a refuge with
a relative whom she had after helped out of her
bounty, and whose home was in Portland,
Maine.

And now another blow was facing her, one

that might be worse than all, should the schoon-
er astern prove to be, as Captain Todd feared
a pirate. ‘
. “She still gains, miss,” said the captain anx-
iously, and he glanced toward the setting sun
which was nearing the horizon. “If we could
only haves. storm, and night would come in,
we could dodge him,” the captain added.

But the skies wens cloudless, and it would be
an hour yet before darkness, so the hope of the
skipper was vain.

‘ See there i”

As she uttered the words Alma saw a put! of
white smoke come from the bows of the
schooner.

Then came the boom of a gun, the roar of a
solid shot, and with a ricochet the ball of iron
ﬂew over the deck of the brig.

There was no doubting but that the pursuer
was in earnest, but Captain Todd still held on.

“It’s best to risk getting away, miss; but
please go below,” he urged.

“ No, I shall remain on deck for I am deeply
{Egrested in the chase,” and Alma smiled reck-

y.

She seemed not to care if death should be her
fate at a pirate’s hands. ,

Again came a shot, and again, the last one
striking the brig.

The Pretty Peggy still held on, however, be
ing against hope, as her ski per was, until su -
denly the schooner luﬂ'ed s , and poured it
broadside u n the ﬂ mg brig. ‘

The res t was d trons, for the bowsprit
was cut away, and several of the sails came
down, while the Pretty Peggy swept around
broadside to her ursuer. . '

Nor was this a , for Captain Todd and three
seamen fell dead, and several more were
wounded.

Alma had not ﬂinched under the broadside,
but stood her ground calmly watching the
schooner, up .to the peak of which now went a
bltzck ﬂag, in the center of which was a red
5 r.

A few minutes more and the schooner ran
alongside of the brig, and a s ndid-looking
man, cutlass in hand leaped on rd, to sud-
denly start back and drop his blade as there
came from the lips of Alma Shields:

“ Captain Mountjoy, and a pirate I”

1 CHAPTER VI.
was samoa’s CONFESSION.

11‘ was indeed Mark Mount'oy, whose
schooner had overhauled the mere ant vessel,
and at sight of the beautiful girl, whom he so
suddenly and unexpectedly confronted, the
sailor started k, his face ﬂushing crimson,
then becoming livid. - ,

Having beheld him, and uttered the words
that proved her recognition of the one who had
saved her from the kidnappers, Alma Shields
turned quickly away with a thunder, and went
into the cabin.

An instant did the man whom she had called
a pirate stand in deep, and evidently painful
thought.

Then he called to one of his oﬂ‘lcers and said
sternly: .

“ e that the wounded and dead on this
vessel are at once cared for, and let not a thing
be touched by one of my men."

Then he called to a negro steward of the
Pretty Peggy, and said:

" Ask the lady in the cabin if she will permit
me to come in and speak with her?”

“ She just done tole me, sah, ter ask yer ter
please come in de cabing, as she want for sea
yer, ssh, capt’in," replied the negro, who was
terribly alarmed at being the captive of a pirate.

Mark Mountjoy deﬁed his but, ran his hand
through his waviug'curls and entered the cabin.

As he did so Alma Shields came forward to
meet him. ' ,

Her hand was extended, and she said in a low,
earnest tone: ‘ .

“ ptain Mountjoy, we meets sin, and let
me assure you that feel no dres of you, be-
cause you come under the black ﬂag and with
outlast in as!" hand. I «

“I feel t with, you I am safe, though why

I
(. ;«

   
{on have been driven to piracy Heaven only
nows.”

He did not touch her hand but said, and with
emotion:

“ Miss Shields, your kind words, your trust in
me, cauSe me to feel deeply my position, and if
I might, ,I would liketo say something to you to
pallittite, my being what I now appear to you, a
pm: e.

“ Gladly will I hear anything that you have
to say, Captain Mountjoy, for my interest in
you, as—as a friend is so sincere, that 1 would

happy to know that you are not all that
you now appear.”

Mark Mountjoy was a splendid reader of hu-
man nature.

He had seen, when visiting at Planter Shields’s
home, that Alma was in love with him; but his
one love in life, for Lola La Salle, had imbit-
tered him, had made him shun women.

Now, as he gazed into the beautiful face of
the planter’s daughter, he saw there a true and
nobler nature, and he saw one who loved him,
be be what he might.

“ I have given orders, Miss Shields, to my
lieutenant, to care for the wounded and dead of

our vessel, and not to touch one article on
the craft that I intended as my prize, so
you need feel no anxiety on that score.

“ But, it is my desire to exdplain to you, if I
can do so, my present sad an miserable course.

” Will you listen to me?"

“ Onl too glad will I be to hear your explana-
tion,” 3 e said, with a warmth she was unable
to check.

The young rover captain was silent for a few
minutes, until the silence became painful, and
his brow was clouded the while, his lips set.

At last he said:

“ Miss Shields, to explain the present, when I
a r to you under the black ﬂag of a free—
booter I must speak of the past, my past, one
of wild waywardness and unhappiness, all
brought on lily my own mad career.

“ "I, must te you just what made me what I

Then he told the story of his reckless boyhood,
of his love for Lola La Salle, his determination
at last to lead an honored career and how he
had tried hard to get a vessel and 0 back home
to give luxuries to his parents in t eir declining
years and marry the one he so dearly loved.

The bitter sorrows of his ﬁnding his parents
dead and the maiden he had hoped to wed on
the eve of marrying another, he told of, and
then how he had gone forth and still toiled on
in the career of honor he had chosen.

He had met her, Alina Shields, and intended
to try and forget Lola in a new love for her.

b But he had sailed 1: his vessel, gt wail: taken
a irate,an ony yserv ng t eoutaw as
a; o cer had he saved himself from the yard-

arm.

He had one day been caught by the irate,
when he meant to make his escape, and t e two
had fought it out then and there, and the free.
booter captain had fallen by his hand.

Then he had proclaims himself chief, and
this was but three days before and he had de-
termined to drift wherescever the tide of destiny
would hear him. _

The brig Pretty Peggy was his ﬁrst willful
act of outlawry, and it had been his fate to
meet on her Alma Shields.

Such was his stor , and then game the sad
narrative of ‘Alma hields. He_list_ened atten-
tively to the relation of the incidents that
wrought her sorrows and sufferings, and . she
said in ending:

“ How strange that we should thus meet
a ain.’

8“ Yes, strange indeed, and it seems to me
that it was predestined' at least I would so like
to think, Aims and I pledge you my word that
from to-day I haul down the black ﬂag, turn
my vessel into a merchant craft, and seek to
win your love, if I may be so bold as to hope,
knowing me now as you do, that I may one ay
come to your home in Maine and claim you as
my wife. I await your answer.”

‘ Sail ho!”

The cry came from the deck, and ere she could
answer, the irate lieutenant left in charge
called down t e companionway excitedly: ‘

“ Ho, captain, there is a cruiser bearing down
directly upon us, and we are doomed!”

CHAPTER VII.
WARNID our. /

Manx Momser knew well the full meaning
of the words uttered by his lieutenant, that a
cruiser was‘ hearing down upon them and they
were doom .

With'the black ﬂag still ﬂ ng above his ves-
sel, with his decks armed an crowded with lewd
less men, and lying alongside of the brig, which
they had overhauled at the csnnon’s mouth and
boarded, it meant the yard-arm to him if taken.

In vain would it be for him to Jilead that he

had been captured by a pirate an been forced
to serve as an outlaw oﬂcer, and this capture of
the Pretty Peggy was his ﬁrst lawless act, for it
would serve him not. _'
He would be taken and Quickly dealt with. -
Sohesﬁzungtobisfeetandsaid' ‘
v

u on ohmstothinkotmyﬁvordaaius,’

.

_ ,, 

M:

 
l,
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l

   
“+1”.

 
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)- “arm.”

   
 .

' m

on in,orar
, “Iamg

The Doomed Whaler.

5

 
for I will come for your answer; but I will be
true to myself, true to you, though now, if I
have to ﬁght oﬂ.’ this cruiser, I feel that you will
not hold that against me."

“ For God’s sake, come, captain!" came from
on the deck, and Alma cried:

“ Go! go and save yourself!”

Ho sprung up the conipanionway and reached
the deck of the brig.

There lay his schooner alongside, his crew at
the guns, and she was held by one grappling-iron
to the brig.

His lieutenant was on the brig, but ready to
spring on board the schooner, and the crew of
the merchant vessel, with a cruiser near at hand,
were in an ugly humor.

There, not half a mile away, came the cruiser,
a large brig-of-wnr, and she was hearing down
directly upon the two vessels, as though knowing
that something was wrong.

The moon had risen and the sea was bathed in
a silvery light that rendered all distinctly visi-
ble tor a longr way oﬂf.

Leaping on board his own vessel, Mark Mount-
joy gave the order:

“ Cast off i”

The schooner swung apart from the brig, and
the latter was kept between her and the cruiser
from the course which Mountjoy headed.

But the brig could not protect him long, for
the cru1ser was soon in full view and luﬂing
sharp sent a broadside into the pirate.

It was a severe ﬁre and cut down a number of
nien, dismounted a gun and tore some the sails
into ribbons.

But, as though the discharge of the broadside
had checked it, the wind suddenly lulled and a
dead cahn fell upon the sea.

Not a fathom did either of the three vessels
move over the waters, and then was heard from
on board the cruiser:

“Lower away the boats and. carry her by
boarding!"

“'Stand to your guns, and double shot with
canister and grape!” came the stern command
of Mark Mountjoy, who had not returned the
ﬁre of the cruiser, disastrous as it was, though
his men were at their guns and marveled great-
ly at his not doing so.

The moment that Mark Mountjoy had left the
cabin of the Pretty Peggy, Alma Shields had
gone on deck. '

She saw the situation at once, and felt that the
chances were terribly against the escape of the
schooner from so swift and powerful an adver-

_ may as the cruiser appeared to be.

aptain Todd’s body and that of the seamen
who had been killed, had been removed from the
deck, and the wounded also cared for, so that
there was nothing to shook her eyes as she
glanced over the vessel.

She saw the cunning act of the pirate, using
the Pretty Peggy as a shield from the cruiser’s
ﬁre, to make his escape, and she hoped that it
would be successful.

But as the cruiser drew near she suddenly
shot out to one side and sent a broadside upon
the ﬂying schooner.

The crashing of timbers came to Alma’s ears
as the shot tore through the schooner, and to
her lips came the prayer: »

“ Heaven shield him from harm 1”,

Then came the. lull in the wind, and the order
of the armed brig’s commander-to lower away
the boats to attack the outlaws.

“ It must end as I feared it would ” mur-
murled the maiden, wringing her hands anx-
ious y.

On board the brig the mate had taken charge,
but the calm prevented his moving the Pretty
Pe ‘y out of range.

1th her glass Alma Shields saw that the

schooner had lowered h
muttered: 9r “Mk ﬂag. and she

“ He has kept his word.”
h Tlhen from on board the cruiser came the
ai : . ‘
“ Ahoy! what brig is that?” /
“ The Pretty Peggy, American packet, out of
New Orleans and bound for Boston,” responded
“ﬁlm I 'll be d
y, ay, m or ou”a.nda
03 from the side of the crhise’r. and ahionagngggg
‘after an oﬂlcer leaped on board of the brig.
‘He was a handsome man and seeing Alma
raised his hat while he/said:
l (‘1' I gear Iyou have had adpainful experience,
a y, or reco ize yon er schooner
craft of Costellogtl'ie Corsair.” as the
Allma geﬂembereg tlﬁtha’iJ'k Mountjov had
spoeno eira cewohadca‘
him as Costello? and she said: ' muted
“ Yes, Sir, but I was not trealnd
nor was the brig robbed of anything."
“_But would have been, sir,hod not your
cruiser been Sighted,” the mate remarked, for
he gnaw not what had been going on in the
cabinhnnd supposed that Alma had bee lead-
in with the pirate the while he was, in the
slug terms of ransom. ‘
we were so fortunate as to ap-
pear; but I hope soon to capture the pirate, tor
marereodstee, , > _ ‘ ,
i y do not remain on deck, min, for shots

unkindly,

‘ are, no rospecters of person and 'ﬂ wildl at
I y y

- know nothing.

“ If you get a breeze and hold on your way,
sir, please report meeting the American brig-
of—war Antelope, Captain Roland Monte,” and
witha how, the officer returned to his boat,
which at once took its position at the head of
the half-dozen that had come from the vessel,
and were crowded with armed men.

Then they moved forward, with strong, quick
strokes for the chooner.

Unheeding the advice of Captain Monte, and
the entrenty of the mate of the Pretty Peggy,
Alma Shields remained on deck. ,

Her eyes eagerly followed the boats over the
moonlit waters, as they rushed to the attack
upon the schooner, which lay quiet and silent
upon the sea. V

Then from the schooner, in a voice that
thrilled Alma Shields, cam a hail:

“Ahoy! Ho, boats, aho, !"

“Ay, ay,” responded Captain Monte’s deep
tones. ,

“ This schooner is no pirate, but I will not be
boarded. Keep oil’, or the result he on your
headl" said Mountjoy.

“ Do you surrender?”

“ I do not.” was the ready response.

“I do not wish bloodshed, sir, if it can be
avoided, so let me board alone and see your
papers!”

“ No, keep off, or I will ﬁre upon you!"

“Give way, men, and board her!” shouted
Captain Monte, and with a cheer the boats
moved on once more to attack the outlaw
schooner.

 
CHAPTER VIII.
' THE VISIT TO THE ANTELOPE.

“ I REGRET to ﬁre upon them, but it is beat
them off, or the yard-arm for me," said Mark
Mountjoy bitterly, as the boats from the Ante-
lope came on once more to the attack, for, dur-
ing the bail and what had followed between the
two commanders, the men had rested on their
oars.

But there was no alternative, for what he had
done he could not explain away.

If he refused to ﬁre upon the boats, his own
desperate crew would have done So, and then
have hanged him as a traitor, be well knew.

So reluctantly, yet with a voice that was dis-
tinctly heard by Alma on the brig, he asked:

“ Will you keep off with these boats?”

6‘ No I" I

“Fire!”

The schooner reeled. under the ﬁre of her
broadside, and the shots were desperately well
aimed, for two boats were sunk, and not one
but caught it severely.

Then the ﬁre was returned by the marines in
the boats, the oarsmen once more pressed on,
unwounded men springing to the places vacated
by death, and the attack was pressed forward
once more. .-

The' guns of the schooner were again ﬁred,
small-arms rattled, and suddenly, just as it had
lulled, the wind sprung up, and rk Mount-
joy’s voice arose above the din, calling the crew
to set sail. '

The schooner forged ahead, just as the boat
in the lead was alongside, and Captain Monte
leaped on deck; but ere the darin ofﬁcer could
be run through by the pirates, ark Mounth
seized him in his arms and threw him back
into his boat, thus saving his life, for the furious
pirate crew would have cut him down.

The schooner, having gained headway, was
now crowded with sail, just as two more boats,
ﬁlled with men, left the side of the Antelope
and the merchant brig sent another.

The wind seeme to have struck the schooner
ﬁrst, for she was mg swiftl along before the
sails of the two brigs had ﬂll , and she held her
course so that the cruiser could not ﬁre on her
over the heads of her boats’ crews.

Hevin to pick up her boats the brig lost
time, an when she was well away in chase of
the schooner the latter vessel was halfa. league
ahead, crowded‘w1th canvas and ﬂying along
like a frightened deer. i

To the surprise ’of all on the two bri s—all ex-
cept Alma Shields—the pirate had not red again
upon the boats or the Antelope, after having
beaten 03 the attack; but, once in full chase,
the cruiser opened savagely _from her bow

on.

Still the recreant schooner did not reply and
soon ran out of range, and disappeared far
away over the moonLiit 532.

Having esoa ' ' s s rong pursuer. Mark
/Mountjoy paceiﬁﬁs deck with feelings of thank-
,fulness. ‘ 3

He had given his
meant to keep it. ,

But how? v '

He . did not wish his craft, to still remain a
pirate, .where he could render the country ser-
V 08. ' ‘ _ ~ . l,

At last he made up his mind as to hisvcoursa-
He had discovered on board a treasure hidden
away by the pirate Costello, of which the men
They were clamorous‘ for
money, and he decided to gain their ood will.

promise to Alma, and he

- So the second day after the escape mm the

brig, having decided upon his course, he called

 
the men forether. and taking about half of the
hidden ti ea'ui'e brought it upon deck.

 
Then he said:

“ Men, I desire to begin my career as your
chief square with you, and so I have here the
treasure of your late Captain Costello, which I
found in a secret locker in the cabin, and this I
intend to give over to you.”

A wild cheer greeted his words, and Mountjoy
continued:

“ 1 shall divide it equally among you, and
then I desire to carry the schooner into port and
ﬁt her out.

“ To do this we must send our guns into the
hold, disguise the craft as best we can, and run
in as a merchant craft.

" I need your aid in this, and I will do that
which I deem best for all of us."

One week after, the schooner, stripped of her
guns and her warlike look, glided up the Missis-
sippi River one night to an anchorage above the
citv of New Orleans.

iving orders to his lieutenant to keep three-
fourths of the men out of sight below decks and
allow no one to go ushore, Mountjoy got into the
dinghy and rowed lo the city.

He made his bent fast, walked along the levee

until he was opposite to a vessel-of-war, which
he had observed as he passed up by her, and
winch he had recognized as the brigoot-war An-
te ope.
He had in fuck-though barely keeping the
Antelope in sight—followed her‘course and en-
tered New Orleans port soon after her, and he
had a motive in doing this, which the reader
will soon discover. ’

Captain Roland Monte satin his cabin looking
over his mail, which an ofﬁcer had brought him
from the shore.

He was a man of striking a pearance, and
though in command of the Auto ope, and called
captain, so by courtesy only, for he wasa senior
lieutenant. ‘

A young man, he came of good family, and be
it was who had won and wedded Ethel, the twin
sister of Lola La Belle, and it was at the old
home where he dwelt, Mark Mountjoy had gone
to learn from the lips of the maiden he loved-
that she was to be sacriﬁced for gold and money
to an old man to save her father from ruin.

A midshipman entering‘ the cabin told Cap-
tain Monte that a gentleman had come on board
who wished particularly to see him.’

“ Admit him,” was the reply. and a moment
after Mark Mountjoy entered. r

Captain Monte saw at a glance that he was no
ordinary personage, and he said: i

“ Be seated, sir, and let me know how ‘I can
serve you, please ”

commander motioned him, and said in a low
V0108: .

“ Captain Monte, I have come to see you, sir,
upon a matter of life and death to me.”

I “ % serious, sir; but where have we met be-
ore ‘ ‘

“You shall know all in good time, sir; but I
must ﬁrst have from you a pledge that you will
not betray my , conﬁdence, or have to place
implicit trust in you, sir.” ‘ ‘

' Certainly I will give you the pledge, air: but
let me ﬁrst ask who t is that I have the pleasure
of meeting.” a

“My name is Mark Mount oy, sir. Perhaps
you have heard of me,” was t a quiet response.

CHAPTER IX.
ran TERMS or sunnnnnnn. -
MOUNTJOY noticed the start of the captain of
the'Antelope as he mentioned his name.

 
less much that who unkind and bitter.

!‘ Yes, 'I have heard of you. sir if you are the.
young gentleman once known in a small New
England seaport, under the name of Mad Mark
Mountjoy?” and Captain Monte gazed ﬁxedly
upon his visitor. . ‘ ‘

u I am, sir."

“ You were the son of a clergyman, air, and

gallant service?”

bier the good acts of my life, and I thank you,
.s r. v - ' ,

“ Yes, I won my way to a middy's berth, and
my wild career lost me the rank: butI began
lose it, for the Devil had a strong hold on me
sir, and I was getting out of my teens heforeI

mind and ownershi
hope ahead return
for the past.” . ,v

“ I never heard ought of you that was really
wicked, sir. other than your intense nature for.
mischief,“ said Captain Monte kind! , and be
was trying to forget that  hear
stern, sad-faced man before him had broken the
heart of his old father and'mother. ~ ~ V

But Mark Mountjoy had stoned, he knew, by
giving to the rector in his; father’s stegd, money‘
for a monument to be meted over his parents, >'
‘ and for the
i parish.

of a schooner, and with

 
went to sea, I-believe, when a mere led, but won '
your way to a midshipman’s berth for pluck and ’

could shake of! the gi'iprof his Satanic Majesty. -"
“ But I did so,‘worked my way to the oom- ..

He knew that he had heard'of him, and doubt-~ 4'

to my old homoto atone», '

that the 5

i' “You'are inclined, Captain Monte, to‘be‘ '

' merciful; but let me tell you-that I suffered

,\‘

t

Mountjoy took.the‘ seat to which the brig'sv' ,

“ It is kind of you, Captain Monte, to remain ’

again and a second time got the place, to again , '

V 1

good of the poor of the-item's {1,1

 
- v

6

   ~

 
bitterly when I returned, to ﬁnd my parents
dead, and more still, when, with her own lips,
the one I had so dearly loved told me she was to
marry another.

“ That maiden on know, so are well aware
of what I lost, w at I have to carr in my
heart—l! refer to your wife’s sister, Lola Salle.

“ Hal” and Captain Monte started.

' This then was the romance in the life of his
beautiful sister-in—law.

He had heard that she had loved a wild scape-
grace, and knew that she had not loved the man
she had married, Peter Rutledge, a man old
enough to be her grandfather, a man said to be
a miser, and who had seemed so well to see the
incongruity of his making Lola his wife, that he
had gotten a miniature of her, set in a massive
gold frame studded with gems of great value
and had the strange conceit on it of a diamond
hand grasping a pearl hand, with the French
‘words, set in rubies:

“Le jour Mendra.”

This Captain Monte had seen and marveled
much, as though the old miser had known that
his rich hand, expressed in diamonds, was grasp—
ing the hand of a ure young girl, expressed in
pearls, and dread the future, as the foreboding
words foretold—~“ The day will come "—in its
ruby letters.

And this then was MarkMountjoy, the daring,
reckless scapegrace whom the beautiful Lola, his
wife’s sister, had loved.

“ I have heard Lola speak of you, and my
wife, too, Mr. Mountjoy, and always with kind-
ness. \

“ I knew, too, that Lola’s heart had not gone
with her hand; but - I never heard the name of
her lover,” and Captain Monte spoke with a
feeling of deepest interest.

Mark Mountjoy was silent a moment, and
then said:

“ After what I had lost, sir, I was almost
driven to desperation; but I rallied, and again
not to work, and my schooner was making me
money, when adversity came u n me, for I
was captured by Costello the orsair, oil? the
island of Hayti.” .

“ Ah! I had a brush with him ten days ago,
and he beat me off." -

Mark Mountjoy smiled and said:

“ He robbed me of my vessel, made my crew,
who would not join him, walk the plank, put
what gold I had saved up in his own lockers,
and then said to me that he needed a ﬁrst ofﬁcer
and the. berth was open to me, and I could take
my chmce between accepting it or being hanged.

“ I chose the berth of. ﬁrst omcer, sir.”

“Under existing circumstances, sir, one can
hardly blame you.”

“Again kind to me, sir, I see; but I served
Costello until a chance offered for me to escape.
and?! made the attempt, when the man who
was to aid me I found was in the pay of his
chief, and betrayed me.

“ Costello ordered me strung up, and I dared
him to personal encounter, and he accepted.

“ I ran him through the heart, proclaimed
myself chief, and started upon a cruise.

“ The brig Pretty Peggy was my ﬁrst prize—”

“ Hal the very vessal overhauled, and—"

_ “My men were mutinous, and I overhauled
the Pretty Peggygas I told you: but I did her
no harm, and meant to leave her unmolested,
when your brig came down upon us.

“ You know the result, sir: but you do not
know that i had to ﬁre upon you or be strung
up by my men, and—”

“ I recall that you only ﬁred, sir, as though
to beat me off, and I now remember that, where
you could have killed me yourself, you struck

,up the boarding pikes of your men, seized me

and threw me back into my boat.

“ I owe you my life, Captain Mountjoy.”

“ You owe me nothing, sir, but a faithfulness
to your pledge.

‘  kept you in sight, followed you in here,
making my men believe that we had to come
here and reﬁt, and so put all of our guns in the
hold, and, disguised as a merchant vessel, I ran

up the river and anchored above you, after

which I came aboard your brig.”

“You are a bold man, Captain Mountjoy.”

“ I came, sir, to tell you that within two
hours you can come on board the schooner and
take her as a prize.

“ I shall be there to receive you, sir, disguised
as an old seamen, and, after turning over to
you the vessel, and the treasure of Costello now
there in a secret locker, I shall go ashore, and
go m way. ‘

f‘ ut I desire to ﬁrst let you get session of
Costello the Corsair’s famous vesse , her guns
and treasure.”

“ And her men?”

“ My dear Captain Monte, I brought thoso
men in here, to g ve up their vessel, but I would
not betray them to the gallows, no, I would not
do that, thou h I Will give up their craft as a
means of en lug their piratical careers, for,
with their old chief dead, and their schooner a
pm, t’hey Will doubtless give up their evil

r. .
“ Suppose I demand the surrender of the crew

'- ,with their vessel, in return for giving you

rdcn?” asked Captain Monte calmly.
n, sir, I shall return on board of the

 
schooner and take my chances with the pirate
crew, for I am not a man to betray the lives
of those who trust me, whatever I may do to
serve the Government by giving up their ves-
sel,” was the bold response of Mark Mountjoy.
CHAPTER X.
THE DESERTED SCHOONEB.

FOR full a minute, Captain Monte was silent:
then he held forth his hand and said warmly:

“ You are a true man, Captain Mountjoy, as
well as a daring and determined one. I under-
stand your present position perfectly and ap-

reciate it. There is my hand on it that you

ave a friend in me.”

The young rover grasped the outstretched
hand as he responded:

“ I am fortunate in having on to deal with,
Captain Monte, for another 0 cer in your place
might force me to carry out my threat and die
with my fellow rovers.”

“ You understand, then, that, within two
hours you are to move upon the schooner with
your boats?”

“ I do, sir.”

“ I will have told the men that we are known
to be in port and will be seized, so send them
ashore; then I will return and receive you, sir.”

“ I understand, Captain Mountjoy."

“ And I am, after giving over to you the ves-
sel, to go ashore at my will i”

“ Yes, sir; and 1 believe if our part in this
affair was reported to the ‘ vernment you
would be again commissioned—~”

“ No, nol not now, not now, for I have no
ambition to again receive acommission in the
American Navy, from which I have been twice
dismissed,” declared Mark Mountjoy sadly.

The words seemed to touch the naval ofﬁcer,
for he said:

“ Your career was a. wild, reckless one, but
not sinful, and I do not condemn you as others
{iifight for your having turned rover to save your

i e.”

“Ah, sir, you are kind to me, and others are
not. But I will not again seek service in the
navy, for I carr with me the consciousness that
my sinful life roke my parents’ hearts, and
also took from me the woman I loved.

“Now, with my parents dead, and the one I
loved—yes, still love—the wife of another, I
have no ambition further to live a prosy, hou-
orahle career.

“I will expect you sir, within two hours.”

“ I will be on boar , sir.”

“ You can say for the papers that the pirates
got wind of your proposed attack, so deserted
their vesse .”

“Yes, that will be the best way. A glass of
wine with you, Captain Mounth , and to your
futuiéi‘prosperity and happiness. ’

A smile crossed the face of Mark Mount-
'oy as he drank the wine, and a moment after

9 was gone. .

He returned to the schooner in his own boat,
and hastily called his crew together,

“ Men, our presence in port is known, and
there is but one we to save your necks from
the yard-arm, and t at is to go ashore and has-
tily—-_- Holdl do not be reckless, but hear me.

“ You are to hastily disperse through the city,
getting quarters where best you can, and take
with you your kits and valuable property, for
the schooner will be seized. _

“ If you do not hear from me within a week
then seek service aﬂoat elsewhere.

“Now get ready and depart in the boats as
fast as you can do so without attracting atten-
tion from other vessels.” ‘

“ Won’t you set her aﬂre, sir?” said (pie of the

men. -.

“And thus draw attention to us, when, as
it is, we can get away undiscovered?”

The men hastened below to obey orders, and
soon the boats were lowered, and one by one
pulled ashore. . ‘ _

Mark Mountjoy went last in the dinghy, with
several of the men, and the schooner was left
utterly deserted. '

As the men landed at different points they
left their boats and hastened away into the
city to seek quarters, which many of them knew
just where to ﬁnd.

Mark Mountjov hastened of! alone, and after
going a short distance turned and retraced his

ste .

The dinghy was where he had left it, and he
was soon on his way out to the schooner.

Her lights were burning as he had left them,
and runnin alongside he sprung on board.

All was s lent and deserted. and he stood gaz-
ing sadly at the pretty vessel, which, in spite of
her peaceful look, had been such a terror upon
the seas. ‘

Her crew had gone, her guns were below in
the hold, her magazine hidden under a pile of
freight, and she looked little like the dangerous
foe to commerce which she had proven under
the command of Costello the Corsair.

Going to the cabin. companionway he ,opened
it and entered.

The lamp burned britghtly and the cabin was
a picture of beauty, or Costello had ﬁtted it
up With every luxury and many rare, articles
he had picked up in his many piracies; .

Mark Mountjoy stood gazing about him a

.1 /
i, v

 
moment, and there was a strange expression
upon his face as he said aloud:

“ With this beautiful vessel I could win a
fortune, blood—stained though it was, that would
dwarf the riches of the old miser she sold herself
to for gold!”

Then he sighed and seemed lost in painful
reverie.

At last he said:

“Well, it is no harm to take back my own,
that of which Costello robbed me. That at least
I will do. Let me see, I had three thousand in
gold, and the schooner cost me double that sum.
So I will take just nine thousand, and thank
Heaven no dollar of that is blood-stained, and it
is my own by right.

“And that leaves ﬁve times that sum in jew-
els, gold and booty with the rize, besides the
schooner, her battery and all er other belong-

in s.”

Ila stepped up to a painting that hung in the
cabin, touched a spring, and, swinging open on
hinges it revealed a closet in which was stored
a fortune in gold, silver and gems.

Taking up a belt heavy with gold he buckled
it around his waist under his coat, and then
emptied the contents of two buckskin bags into
his ockets.

“ hat is my all,” he said aloud, as he turned
from the secret treasure store to discover that
he was not alone on the deSerted pirate schooner,
for two seamen had entered the cabin and con-
fronted him, each armed with a cutlass.

At a glance Mark Mountjoy recognized the sea-
men. They were two of the pirate crew, and
their return meant death to him. .

“ Well, what do you want here, men?” be de-
manded, sternly, knowing he was in for a death-
stru gle.

“ 6 two hain’t such fools as you thought us
cap’n, though t’others is, and we kinder sus-
pected you was playin’ us foul, so put back in
yer wake, followed you aboard and here we is,”
said one of the men.

“ And you are alone?”

“ We is, but enough to board and carry you,
cap’n, if it comes to a ﬁght.”

"Well, it will come to it, I guess; but what
do you want?”

“ Shares.”

“In what?”

“ You put back to get your treasure and then
desert the ship; but we are sailing in company,
so want our share.”

“This money and treasure here belonged to
your former chief, and myself, so all is mine,
if I so desire to take it.” .

“ Well, you don‘t intend ter let it go with
ther ship?” . '

" I do, excepting what I have Just taken."

“No, sir, we wants it.”

' “ You cannot have it.”
“ That we at least will find out.”
“ Come, Jack, cut the cap'n down and all the

treasure is oursl” cried one of the pirates and

the two Jwrung forward, cutlass in hand.

Mark ounth had told Ca tain Monte that
he would surren er the pirates gold and booty
lvlvitlmhe schooner, and he would defend it with

is i 9.

Then, too, these men sought his life, and if he
did not kill them the Would have it.

Again, if they got e he would be betrayed to
all the others of the crew as a traitor to them.

These thoughts ﬂpshed like lightningi through
pie brain, and in an instant he was re y for his

oes.

A superb swordsman, one who had never met
his superior, be yet knew that he had two stub-
born men to ﬁght.

CHAPTER XI.
a PLEDGE KEPT.

TEE moment that the two pirates sprung,
with drawn cutlwses to attack Mark Mountjoy,
he met them more than half-way.

He had hastily closed the painting, that form-
ed the secret door of- the treasure closet, and

grasped a jewel-hilted cutlass that hung Reg, ,
e e

and, quick as a ﬂash one of the pirates

keen edge of the blade and that of the other
crossed it only for a moment, when the second
man fell dead by the side of his comrade.

At the same instant Captain Monte leaped
down into the cabin, his drawn sword in hand,
for he had boarded the schooner, and, hearing
the clash of steel, had hastened to the scene.

“Bid your me leave, sir, I beg of you!”
cried Mountjoy, hastily turning his back to~
ward the companionway, for he knew there
must be men in the cruiser’s crew to whom he
was known. ,

“ Men, leave the cabinl I’ll see to this af~
fair,” called out Captain Monte, quickly, d be
cpccked them just as they would have to OWed
h m. ,

The companionway was quickly closed, and
then Captain Monte turned to Mark Mountjoy

,for an exp auction of the tragic scene. ,
It was a once given In the cool manner of the

youn man. , .
“ I got the men ashore. air, and returned alone;

but then two seamen followed me, demanded the »

treasure and attacked me.
“ The result is before you, Captain Monte, and
I asked the withdrawal of your men as I had no

 
’aA:.-}'-'r: : iv

‘11:.

 
‘1 Tk—M» .—7

 
The Doomed Whaler. '

'7

 
. .
time to disguise myself and do not wish to he treasure to Captain Mountjoy, of the brig whose

reco nized by any one."

“ on are right, sir, and I will see that you
leave the vessel quietly." .

“Thank you, Captain Monte, and permit me
to turn the vessel over to you.

“ Her guns are in the hold, and here is the se
cret treasure—closet—see, behind this painting,
and to open it just touch this spring.

“Excepting what I gave to the men to entice
them into this port, and took back what I had
been robbed of, the treasure is there.”

“ And a rich one it is; but permit me to urge
that you help yourself, ere I lay hands upon it as
prize money for my crew.”

“No, I have all I will need, sir, thank you,
and which is legitimately my own.

“ I will say good-by now, Captain Monte."

“ One minute, while I send the men for-
ward, so you can leave without being recog-
nized.”

Captain Monte went on deck, but soon re-
turned, and ten minutes after, with his hat
drawn down over his eyes, and a cloak conceal-
ing his form, Mark Mountjoy left the cabin of
the schooner, while the man to whom he was
drawn most kindly, not only from admiration of
him, but because he was the husband of Lola’s
twin sister, said warmly:

“ Remember, Captain Mountjoy, you will al-
ways ﬁnd me your friend.” I

That verv night Mark Mountjoy set sail in a
packet for Boston, and the following day the pa-
pers had the full account of the capture of the
schooner of Costello the Corsair, and the report—
ed slaying of pirate chief.

But the secret of the taking of the schooner
was known to but two persons, Captain Roland
Monte and Mad Mark Mountjoy.

Without adventure Mark Mountjoy reached
Boston, and he at once set about the purchase of
a small vessel, which he meant to put in the
coast trade, as he cared not to go far from the
one who he now knew loved him so devotecuy,
and whom he wished to make his wife.

He secured a pretty little schooner. which had
been captured from smugglers and was oﬁ'ered
for sale, and putting the craft in perfect trim,
be shipped a crew which he was most careful to
pick, for he wished only half a dozen men, but
was determined that they should be first-class
seamen.

Then he sailed for Salem, and caught in a
blow, he was delighted with the stanch qualities
of his vessel, as well as her very great speed.

The port he sought was Salem, and arriving
there he purchased a pretty cottage on the bar-
bor shore, and set carpenters to work to put it
in perfect order, after which it was to be thor-
oughly furnished.

“ I will have a home to offer her, a vessel to
make a living with, and a few hundred dollars
in hand for a rainy da ,” he said, as he set sail
£20m Salem and laid his course for the coast of

aine.

Several da 3 after the sailing of the Winged
Arrow, as ark Mountjoy had named his
schooner, a young girl was seated upon the
Burch of a pretty cottage that overlooked Caseo

a

X glance was sufﬁcient to show that it was
Alma Shields, and her beautiful face was sad,
her eyes dim with tears. ‘ ,

She had reached the home of her kinswoman,
a dear old lady. and received a warm welcome,
and a heart full of sympathy.

She had told her sad story, of loss of fortune,
father and brother, and how she loved one whom
the _dread came to her she would never see

again.

Would Mark Mountjoy give up his lawless
life for her?

It had been a severe blow to her to know that
he had raised the black ﬂag; but she had listened
to his story and believed it.

Yet,_might he not be tempted to still lead the
Wild, Sinful life of a. freebooter?

She had noticed that he had warned of! the
cruiser’s boats, and every word said by him
had reached her :oars, as she stood on the deck
of the packet brig, Pretty Peggy.

That he. could have done far more red work
than he did she was well aware, and when his
vessel had caught a breeze and sailed away she
was happy at his escape. '

The retty Peggy had gone on her way, and
she had reached her destination, and she tried to
be happy; but all the bitter past would come
before her, With dread for the future, and her
eyes ﬁlled with tears as she set 11 n the little
porch, some knitting untouched in or lap.

Suddenly she saw a pretty little schooner run-
ning down toward the cottage, and a few mo-
ments after she luﬂed and dropped anchor, and
a boat put out from the shore.

East 1y running ' into the cottage, Alma
Shields returned With a glass, and the words

broke from her lips:

_ “ He has kept his word, for it is Mark Mount-

n
She went down toward the beach, and the two

met in a. inc ve wh
them. P gm are no eye wasupon

“Alma, I have come to tell you that I took
my schooner to New Orleans. discharged my

 
boats I beat oﬂ.’ that day.

“ My own money I used to buy yonder craft
to earn a living with, and I have a little home
in Salem all ready to take you to. _

“ Will you be my wife, Alma, and go With
me?"

Her answer was to put her arms about his
neck and say:

“ Yes, gladly, Mark; but we must take dear,
good old Aunt Lucy with us. Come, and let
me show her what a splendid man I love With
all my heart and soul.”

CHAPTER XII.
AN OLD GRUDGE.

THERE were evil—minded people in Salem who
did not receive kindly the coming into their
midst of the young Skipper Mountgoy and his
beautiful wife, and soon dark rumors were in
circulation regarding them.

In the ﬁrst place, the Winged Arrow was a
ﬂeeter craft than any other coaster, and a more
Comfortable one, and she got most of the pas-
sengers and freights to and from the ports to
which she made her voyages..

This naturally gave rise to envy and jealousy
among other skippers to see a stranger come to
their port and get the better of them in patron-
age. I

Then no one Seemed to know the Mountgoys or
aught regarding them. ,

They had come to Salem and “ put on airs,”
as the gossips had it, and it was hinted that they I
had, the young sailor and his wife, broken the i
heart of a dear old woman. who had died more 1
than two months after their coming, leaving
them in possession of a “ vast fortune.”

And yet, though they multiplied the few hun-
dreds that poor “ Aunt Lucy” had left into a
vast fortune, the gossips did not seem to marvel

 
that the oim ski er should still kee his little .
y g pp p ' lem, a place where he had a branch house of

schooner.

Finding that they seemed not to be welcome,
Mark Mountjoy and Alma held themselves aloof
from the Sale-mites, seeking no society, and liv-
ing pretty much to themselves.

After Aunt Lucy’s death Alma often went
with her husband on his voyages, which lasted
from two to three weeks, leaving their house
in the charge of a faithful old servant who
had been the standby of Miss Lucy Finch for
two—Score years, and had accompanied her
from Maine to her new home.

One day when he returned from his run,
Mark Mountjoy’s breast was made glad with
the tidings 'that he was a father, and old
Sarah, who met him as he landed, said with a
merry twinkle in her eyes:

“You’re a father. Captain Mark, and there
are two of ’em, both boys.” ~

Mark grasped the old woman’s band and
hastened on to the cottage, at a pace faster than
she could follow, and there he learned that he
{as indeed the happy father of two splendid

o s.

e allowed hisvmal'e to take the Winged
Arrow out on her next run, and he remained ‘
at home to be near his wife and aid her in her
increased cares. >

One afternoon he came home and Alma,
who watched every expression of his face,
asked quickly:

“ What has gone wrong, Mark!”

“You have good eyes, Alma, to see what I
intended to conceal from you, for I admit that I
am wor led.”

“Tell me of ﬂour worry, Mark,” and she
came and sat by im.

“Well, you know I have always wondered
why we were received so coldly here?”

‘ Yes, it has fretted me as well.”

“I saw no one here who had known me as
Mad Mark Mountjoy, or afterwards on 005- I

 
tello’s schooner, and yet I noticed a marked
coldness toward both of us.”

“And so did I Mark, and could not under-
stand it, ’for we asked no favor, and you had
your own vessel and home.”

“True, and I was startled one day to over-
hear two of my men tal ing, and what the
said angered me, in sp to of its being suc
nonsense.”

“What did they say, Mark?”

“Why that r Aunt Lucy was very rich,
and yOu being er heiress, I had learned that
she intended changing her will, on account of
her hatred to me, and so had, by some means,
been the cause of her death.”

“ Mark, this is shameful; infamous, and
some one ought to be made to suffer for these
cruel ﬂings at you,” said Alma indignantly.

“ I tried to trace them .to some reliable
source, but could‘ not, and so let it rest until,
today, when my mate told me that it was
hinted the Winged Arrow was bringing in
smuggled goods.”

“Mark l”

,“ I do not wonder at your anger, Alma, for it
is just, and I was so incensed; I at once deter--
mined to trace the lie to the fountain head.

“ I questioned the mate, called up each one of
the crew and asked about it. and discovered that
the report seemed to come from a shipping ﬁrm
of G—-, that has a branch house here.”

 
crew, and sun‘ndered' her, with her guns and “'What is the name of the ﬁrm, Mark?”

. I

I ,
\\

, r.

“ Ezra Vail & Com

“ They are Whalers ’ _

“ Yes, and Ca tain Ezra Vail commands a
fine whaling vesse , when he sees ﬁt to go _to sea.

“ His father was a rich man, and he is some
years older than I am.”

“ You know him then?" quickly asked Alma.

“ We were on the same ship together, when he
was a midshipman and I was cabin-boy, and he
was from my native town and loved the one of
whom I told you most desperately.

“She refused him, and he a ways regarded
me as his rival and foe, and he is one to never
forget a wrong done him, as I well know.

“ I ﬁnd that he cruises to Salem ever month
or two, and I believe that all this co dness to-
ward us he is at the bottom of :but I shall see
him and face him to answer for his infamous
chniiges against me.

“ ow I did not intend to worry you with this,
Alma, but you saw something was the matter so
I have told you; but do not fret, little woman,
and all will come well,” and Mark kissed his
wife good-by and went down to his schooner,
for she was to sail that afternoon. ,

All was in readiness as he reached the deck,
and the Winged Arrow went ﬂying out of Salem
Harbor on her run to ortsmouth.

Hardly had she gained an ofﬁng when the
mate pointed to a vessel astern, and evidently in
pursuit.

“ It is the cruiser Vidette, sir—ha! and she is
ﬁring at us!”

As the mate spoke a puff of smoke came from
the bows of the small armed schooner astern and a
solid shot out through the mainsail of the Wing-
ed Arrow.

ny.”

 
CHAPTER' XIII.
UNDER A CLOUD.
CAPTAIN EZRA Van. sat in his ofﬁce in Sa~

the rich ﬁrm of which he was a junior partner.
He was a young man. scarcely twenty-eight,
and came of good New England stock. .
His father had been a sea—captain before him,
and Ezra Vail had entered the navy of the
United States as a midshipman, and, with his
good looks, liberal allowance of money and sea-
manship, he was much admired and very popu~

ar.

But suddenly, no one knew why, he resigned
from the navy and returning home went as
mate upon one of his father's vessels. '

There was an ugly rumor in circulation that
he had won from his fellow midshipmen a large
sum at cards in the steerage one night, and it
had been hinted that a cabin-boy had seen him
cheat, and had told him to quit the service or
he would betray him.

Be this as it may, Ezra Vail resigned and
turned Whaler.

Upon his return from a successful voyage he
married a rich Boston girl, and soon after his
father died and left him his sole heir, so that he
went on whaling cruises only when he needed a
little respite from business and sea air.

The result of his marriage was a son and heir,
whom he named Rupert, and upon the. day of
'his birth the father made a. secret vow that the
infant, when he grew to manhood, should be the
richest young man in New England.

One day, when Rupert was a young lad, he
accompanied his father to Salem, to see about
his buiness there, and the merchant was seated

in his oﬂice when, through the glass door he saw '

a man enter, the sight of whom caused him to
turn deadly pale, and mutter to himself:

“That man in this town ‘l

“ I thought he had turned pirate long ago.”

The stranger remained in the outer ofﬁce but
a short while, talking with one of the clerks,
and then departed.

“ Rupert, go and tell Clerk Laws to ‘ come
here.” and the voice of the merchant trembled,
while, as his little son went on his errand he
arpse and stepped to the window.

form.
“ But what is he doing, here?” muttered Ezra

Vail, as he glanced through the window at the "

retreating form of the stranger.

Mr. Laws, an old clerk in the ﬁrm, came into
the ofﬁce just then. i

“ You wished to see me, Captain Vail 1”

“Yes, Mr. Justin Laws. I wished to ask you
who that man was who just left the allies?"
“Captain Dunn, sir, of the ship Pelican."

“ I now Captain Dunn, sir; I mean the
young man?” _

“ Ah, yes, sir, that was Captain Mark Mount-
joy of the coast/packet schooner Winged Ar-
row."

“ Captain Mark Mountjoyf”

“Yes, sir.”

“ Commanding a packet schooner!“

‘5 Yes. sir."

:“ Running where?”

To Portsmouth, and the Kennebec, sir,\al-

terpately.”

see. v
“,Been long in the trade!” ,
“No, sir. he’s a new man, onlya couple of
months here, but he’s a thorough sailor and
bought the smuggling schooner Jack-cunn-

‘ Yes, there is no mistaking his face and»

 
’ one they deemed so
3 was never known to speak severely to one of his
‘ men without i‘hst cause. ’

8

"The nestled  ' '

,(u‘u.  u «4. ~ -, ,.,‘ V. . .3. :3: ,v, r»,  ~  », .9

 
‘tern, which the Vidette capturned six months

ago.”

“ I see.”

“ And he bought a pretty home here, sir, and
fetched his wife and her aunt'with hiin, so he
appears to be a man of seine means."

" Yes; but what does Captain Mark Mount-
joy want in my ofﬁce, Mr. Laws?”

‘ He dropped in to let us know he would sail
go-mgi-row, in case we had freight to send by
in].

Captain Ezra Vail was silent. and walked to
and fro with set lips and clouded brow, until
little Rupert recalled him to himself with the
remark:

“ Father, what makes you turn so pale; are
you sick?"

The whaler captain started, his face ﬂushed
and he said quickly:

“ I am not just well, my son; but I was think-
ing, thinking of the past.

“ Mr. Laws?”

“ Yes, Captain Vail."

“ You have been long in the service of Vail
and Co.”

“ Twenty odd years, sir, man and boy.”

“ Irbelieve I can place perfect conﬁdence in
you. ' .

“ I hope so, sir.”

“ It will be to your interest, very much to
your interest. Mr. Laws, to serve me."

“ Yes, sir."

“Very well, 1 wish to have a talk with you

Ito-night about this Captain Mark Mountjoy, so

come to my room at the tavern about eight
o’clock, and you need not mention your coming
to any one."

“I will not, sir, and I will be there,” said
Justin Laws, who was a little, dried-up specu-
men of humanity. with hawk eyes and an ava-
ricious look that did not belie his true char-
acter.

“ Father, you hate Captain Mountjoy, don’t,
you?" said little Rupert, as Mr. Laws left the
private oﬂice.

Again did the merchant whaler start.

“ That boy sees too much, and I must be care-

,ful,” he muttered to himself, and then said to

his son: .

“ Hate him, oh nol but I knew one of his
name long ago, my boy,,and wish to know if it
is the same gentleman." ,

That night, after Rupert had gone to bed,
Justin Laws called at the tavern and was re—
ceived by the whaler. >

A decanter of brandy, with glasses, were upon
the table, and having bade his visitor be seated.
Captain Vail ﬁlled his glass with liquor and then
began to cunningly draw him out to discover
just what sort of a man he had to deal with,
both drunk and sober.

What he discovered regarding his clerk seemed
to satisfy him, for when the visitor departed,
near midnight, Ezra Vail said in a low voice, as
be accompanied him to the door:

“ I will trust you, Laws, to put them under a
cloud, and to-morrow I will see that your salary
is raised half as much more than it is at present,
while for your long and valuable services in our
ﬁrm, I will present you with a cozy little house
where you can live all to yourself. Goodnight,

,and report to-morrow what you have done,” and

Justin Laws feltiten years younger as he walked
home that night to his bachelor quarters in his
boarding-house.

CHAPTER XIV.

DEFIED.

TEE mate of the Winged Arrow had never
seen his captain look as he did, when the cutter
Vidette threw a ball through his mainsail.

His face became livid, and his eyes burned
with a glare that was intense in its anger. ‘

Anticipating, of course, that the Winged Ar-
row would be at once brought to, in obediénce

. to the summons from a brazen threat, the mate

and the crew sprung to the sheet ropes.

But the were startled by the thunder tones:

“ Hold ast there!

“ Don’t dare to touch a halyard without my
order!”

‘ The men were amazed, almost frightened as
they gazed at their skipper, from whose lips
now came the command:

“ Set the topsails and ﬂying-jib, Mr. Roslin."

“ Do you mean to run for it, sir?” asked Mate
Roslin, in surprise.

‘ “ You heard my orders, sir."

There was that in the face of Mark Mountjoy
that forbade questioning. and further, it com-
manded obedience, and the mate repeated the
or er. , ,

The men did not step as quickly to obey as
their captain deemed they should and springing
toward be nearest he said, ﬁercely:

“ Did you hear, air, or do you intend to refuse

3 obedience?”

beThe seaman had never seen his captain angry
ore. ’
hiIt pas a mood none of the crew had ever seen
in n. ' ‘
A better seamen they had never known, and
good an - oﬂcer, while he

be a bad man to arouse, and now they saw him
rise in his anger and tower above them in a way
that cowed them.

As one man they sprung to obey his bidding,
though that bidding was to defy the order of a
United States cruiser to come to.

The wind was fresh, and the Winged Arrow
was bowling swiftly along under her lower sails
only. while the Videttc, under all of her canvas
had been steadily gaining upon the coaster for
the past halt-hour.

But, with the additional sail set, the Winged
Arrow began once more to drop her pursuer.

In spite of the temporary delay upon the
schooner, in setting the upper sails, she had not
been more than two minutes without her extra
canvas being spread, so that no second gun was
ﬁred from the cruiser, as it was not deemed for
an instant that the skipper of a coaster would
disobey the command to come to.

But instead, they saw the upper 'sails quickly
set, and the coaster go slipping away at a live—
lier pace, which began to widen the space be-
tween them.

The captain of the cruiser, an arrogant, over-
bearing young man, could hardly believe his
eyes.

“ VVhatl is he spreading more sail?

“Has he not come to?” he cried. excitedly, of
his oﬂicers.

“ He is running for it, sir,” responded a lieu—
tenant.

This was now very evident, and Captain
Spruel of the Vidette shouted out the order:

‘5 At those bow guns there !"

“ Ay, ay, sir."

“ Blow that fellow out of the water.”

H “ Ay, ay, sir,” and the guns were loaded and
red.

But the coaster had gained considerable. she
and the Vidette were.both runnin fast, and
the waves, as the Winged Arrow s 0t out in-
to the open sea, aided also in preventing good
aim from being obtained at ﬁrst.

There were other vessels near, passing in
and going seaward, and the crews of all
wondered at seeing the daring schooner ﬂying
from a vessel-of—war.

“ Up to her old tricks again, I guess ” said
theskipper of a brig, recognizing the Winged
Arrow as a former smuggler craft.

Ra idly the pui'suer kept up her ﬁre, and now
and than a shot would out along the decks, or
tear through the hulwarks or sails. ‘

“ The wind is fair for us, men, without work,
so keep out of danger.

“Mr. Roslin, I will take the wheel, sir, so
crouch there in the companionway,” said Mark
Mountjoy quietly.

“ I do not fear, sir, to face what you are will-
ing to,” said the mate promptly. ,

“I ' 'none of you hurt, Mr. Roslin but
I will not come to unless that cruiser ma es a
wreck of my vemel.

“ I have done no, wrong, and had he wished
to overhaul me he should have, ﬁred over me;
but to send his ﬁrst shot at me has angered
me, and if he wants me then he has got to
follow me to my anchorage," and the look of
determination in the face of Mark Mouutjoy
showed that he meant just what he saids.

As the shot ﬂew about them dangerously
near, the mate and crew did seek what shelter
they could, while their skipper stood at the
wheel, calm, fearless and deﬁant.

He sailed his Vessel with consummate skill,
and never let her waver from her course.

He held her to her work, though an occasional
hard pull of wind would lay her well over until
the lee sou rs were under.

But he d not even glance astern of him at
his pursuer, nor did he ﬂinch when a solid shot
would go shrieking over his head.

When another would tear along his decks, or
out through his sails, he would smile grimly,
yet never glance at his pursuer. ‘

At last night fell upon the/waters, and the
cutter still kept up the chase, and her ﬁring
also, though the coaster had gained nowl’so as to
cause nearly every shot to fall short.

At midnight the Winged Arrow had Halibut
Point abeam, and laid her course north by cast
for Permmouth. having the wind now dead
astern and sending her along at a ten-knot

ace.
p The cutter going a knot and a half slower to
the hour, was of!" Straitsmouth Island, and still
pressing on‘ under all canvas. though she had
ceased ﬁring some time before, knowing that
the coaster had drop - her out of range.

All night long di Mark Mountjoy stand at
the wheel saying to his mate and crew who
came to relieve him:

“No, I shall be the one who must bear the
blame, so you need do no more than you are
com ﬂed to.” .
hen the sun rose the Isles of Shoals were
astern of the ﬂeet schooner, with the Vidette
three leagues astern, yet still coming on with
her canvas all drawing. '

Running into, the harbor of Portsmouth, Mark
Mount oy, instead of seeking his usual wharf,
came away oﬂ shore and let fall his anchor.

The mate and crew seemed to expect him to

 
~‘They had d vered, however, that he would

1 me.”

‘ turning upon Mountjoy,

 
give the order to lower awa a boat-for the
shore, but,he‘did.nothingv o the kind,,_andl

\ .

‘ 1.5.

 
quietly went into the cabin to breakfast at the
call of his cook. I

When he came on deck again the cutter was
not a mile distant, and coming along with the
look of a craft that carried an angry commander
on her quarter-deck. .

Running up near the Winged Arrow she
dropped anchor, and immediately after a bout
full of armed men left her side and headed for
the little schooner.

CHAPTER XV.
THE sxirrnn’s THREAT.

CAPTAIN SPRUEL was in the stern-sheets of
the boat, and he was in a very angry mood.

He had been defied, had been beaten by a
coaster, when his Vidette was known to be the
ﬂeetest craft in these waters, and his enemy had
arrived in port long enough ahead of him to
carry what things he had on board that were
contraband to the shore. 3

“ Boat nhoy I” called out Mark Mountjoy as
the schooner’s boat drew near.

ﬂ “Ahoy the coaster,” sullenly replied the or-
cer.

“Do you wish to come on board, sir?”

“ I am coming."

“Ay, ay, sir,” and Mark Mountjoy stepped to
the gangway to receive his visitor.

Captain Spruel sprung on board, followed by
a middy, a marine oﬁicer and a dozen men.

“I seize this craft, sir, in the name of the
G0vernment,” he said, angrily, and his gaze
met that of Mountjoy.

“ On what charge, sir, may I ask?”

“ Smuggling."

“Captain Spruol, you are a naval ofﬁcer, sir,
and have power behind you: but you should be
careful not to make a charge you cannot sub-
stantiate.”

The naval oﬂicer again glanced at the captain
of the coaster. ,

What he saw showed him that he was speak-
ing to no ordinary man.

here was that in the skipper of the Winged
Arrow which commanded res eot.

“ I know, sir, that I am rig t, and this vessel
is a smuggler.”

“ You are at liberty to search her, sir.”

“ You have removed your contraband goods
ashore, then.”

“ My boat has not been lowered from its
daVits, sir, since I‘came in port.”

“ Some boat has come off to you then?"

“No, sir! The vessels at anchor around in
will vouch for that.” ~

“ Well, sir I shall make the search.”

“ Do so, please, for I wish‘ you to know that
you have made a mistake, a false charge against

The ofﬁcer gave orders to his men and the
search of the vesel was begun.

For an hour it went on, Mark Mount ‘0
quietly pacing the decks the while, utterly indify-
forent to the resence of the naval oﬂlcers and
their men on word. ,

’ “ Did you ﬁnd anything contraband, sir?” and
there was a sneer in the voice of the young
coaster. ’ .

“ I did not, for you have hidden your smug-
gled goods well.” -

“ Captain lsttpruel, for such I learn is our
name,” and ountJoy’s Words were hear by
all on the vesse , “ you make a char is against
me which you cannot prove, and I wi 1 not lis-
ten to another word from you against my
honor.

“ This is a free land, sir, and I am your
equal, so be warned that I will not allow you ,to
go too far.”

The naval ofﬁcer was astounded. The words,
of the young coaster seemed fairly to take his
breath away.

At last he said:

“ Do you dare to threaten me, sir?”

“ I dare ﬂing the lie in the teeth of any man I

who charges me with .dishonor as. you have.
New, leave my vessel, sir, or arrest me and» seize
her; as you please, for you have the power to do

All were ammd at the daring deﬁance of the ‘

ygsu‘ng skipper, and Captain Spruel was almost
'de himself With rage, when the lieutenant of

:marines said something to him in a low tone.

“ You deny the chargez sir," he said quick] ,

‘ and a search has fa 1-
ed to ﬁnd smuggled goods; but I am not done
with you yet, and I would know why you run
from me when I asked you ,to eomli tol”

“ Captain Spruel, I know sea courtesy as wen
as you do, for I have twice held rank in the
Up‘ited States Navy.”

on

“ Yes, I! and having no guilty conscience, not
knowing why you should-pursue me, I held on.”
:And yet- sent a shot to prder you tolay

. / .
“You ﬁred 4mm sir. and that n ered‘ 'w‘
“ Had you ﬁred over me,‘ g 8 M
ed; but any vessel aﬂoat is entitled to courtesy,

and as you fa‘led to give me my rights. I deﬁed -
you, and, by Heaven, I’d have 'let you sink my
' schooner before I would have come to for you ll -

5‘ New, sir, what is our pleasure, for] have
business to attend to
There was something so hold, no. manly

I should have . obey. -

Iamnotnnderarrest.” ‘
 was.

 
. “

 
ii
i
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—A~A—:——v———c_.._.___.

 
.x. .7

.vhv¢--vﬁWWg—¢7W‘l+ﬁtw,ﬂ at“: g .  _

(In,

 
« l

.The Doomed Whaler.

9

 
bearing of the young coaster, that all were im-
pressed with him and turning to the lieutenant
and the middy, Captain Spruel said:

“ I shall ut you in irons, sir, haul your ves-

sel alongsi e of the Government wharf and dis- ‘

charge her cargo, for I am conﬁdent your bold
air hides villainy.”

“ All right, sir,” said Mark Mountjoy,“ and if
you ﬁnd nothing, it' my crew prove that you have
wronged me, and 1 get quit-papers, then you
shall be personally responsible to me for your
acts, for there is something behind your duty in
this persecution of me,and you well know it. Now,
sir, am ready to go into irons.” V

All started, for such language from a skipper
of a coaster to the captain of a vessel-of-war and
never been heard before by those present.

‘f Hal do you dare threaten mel’ shouted Cap-
tain Snruel.

“ I dare tell you, that in your capacity as an
ofﬁcer, you have insulted and dishonored me,
and as a man I shall make you personally re
sponsible,” and Mountjoy turned and held forth
his wrists for the irons, which a seaman just
then brought forward.

They went on with a snap, and the boats of
the Vidette were signaled to tow the Winged
Arrow into the Government dock.

Then _the search was begun, while the town
was eXCited over the rumor that there had been
a smiuggler captured loaded with contraband
goo s.

Every article on board the schooner was taken
out, and the closest search made for secret re—
ceptacles where contrabrand goods could be con-
cealed; but not anything was found, and the
merchants who were the agents of Mark Mount‘
Joy came forward and reported that they thought
a great wrong had been done.

To the port commandant Captain Spruel made
a report that seemed satisfactory to that ofﬁcer,
and he only said:

“ Be more careful next time, Captain Spruel,
and tell your informant that he certainly must
not again place you in a false position.”

“ Then the schooner is to be released, sir?”

“ Yes, at once.”

“ And her captain?”

“ Goes free, of course.”

“ May I not try a trick, air, to entrap this
fellow?”

“You believe him guilty, then?"

“ I am sure of it.”

“ What are your reasons?!"

“ You know who my informant is, and he is
very sure to be right.”

“ I agree with you there; but he has been
wrong in this one."

“ I believe the fellow has goods concealed on
board, and is to deliver them at sea.”

“ But his crew.”

“They are in with him, of course.”

“Well, what is it you wish to do?”

“ He sails from here back to Salem, and al-
ways leaves at night, I hear, so I desire to try a.
plan to catch him."

:‘ Ashore?"

‘ I Wlll leave my vessel here, and take a small
craft and twenty men, running down to the Isles
of‘Shoals, for that is the smugglers’ rendezvous.

-There, sir, I will await his comin out, sig-
nal him, and pretend to be a smugg or with a
gig; to send in, and my word for it, I’ll catch
ry well, do as ou deem best S ruel' b t
since I have talkedf'with Mountjoy feel 7thlit
you have wronged him, though of course you
only did what you deemed your dutv.

_“ How was it, by the way that you ﬁred on
hirn before you sent a shot to bring him to?”
My bad marksmanship, sir, for I ﬁred the

n.

‘_‘ It struck him instead of oin over him as
I intended.” and the face ofgthegyoung oﬂicer
giggles, as though shamed at the story he was

 
CHAPTER XVI.
' THE SEA TRAP.

Tait Winged Arrow was released from im~
prisonment, and the irons were knocked 03 of
the wrists of her handsome young skipper.

. The freight taken from the hold was carted
moo town, and the schooner was towed to the
wharf where she always loaded when in rt.

Her agents were rovoked at Captain pruel.
and wondered at is seeming persecution of
Mark MountJoy, for they had always found the
yoilinvg commander of the Vidette a very nice

e o . - ‘

The Vidette was in special service as a coast-
guard vessel, doing the duty that the revenue-
cutters do to-da . and her cruising ground was
from Portland, ine, to Montauk Point at the
entrance of Long Island Sound.

She had rendered most valuable service in the
twp years she‘hod been on duty, and Captain
ngéielvfg‘d all: ofﬁcer: rvggre favorites in each

- e y am: 0 , and especiall in
Salem and Portsmouth, where the cutter spent
mostpf her tune when not cruising. I
d {ems .bglidhacié off tgagtrain Fred Spruel in the

9 mm un o e in Arrow
understood by his friends. 88d ' w my

Annous .to clear himself of having done an

‘ intention? wring, the young captain declined

 
~boat, such as were used

 
the invitations sent him for dinners and evening
parties, pretending to be on the sick—list, and
went out of port that night on a small chebacca
by the hardy coast
ﬁshermen in thoso days.

He carried with him a dozen seamen, eight
marines and ofﬁcers, and two midshipmen.

A twelve-pound gun had been taken on board
the little vessel, and ten days’ provisions.

Not wishing to be seen hovering about the
Isles of Shoals by day, Captain Spruel ran his
little craft into Rye Inlet and there passed the
day, leaving the anchorage at sunset the next
day and heading directly for the lee of Star
Island, the southerly one of the Isles of Shoals.

It was expected that the Winged Arrow
would come out that night from Portsmouth,
and, if she had a rendezvous at the Isle of Shoals
with any vessel, the captain would discover it.

If no craft came there to meet her, and she
landed smuggled goods on the islands, to lie
hidden there until others came for them, the
fact would be knownto those watching.

The topmost of the little vessel had been hous-
ed, and she lay at single anchor, ready to get
under way in a minute's time. ‘ .

It was starlight, and toward midnight the
lookout aloft sung out:

“Sail ho!”

“ Ay, ay, where is she?" .

“ Just oﬂ Concord Point, sir, gomg about on
the starboard tack.”

“ A’y, ay, limp a close watch on her and re-

ort.’
p “ Ay, ay, sir,” responded the lookout, and soon
after he hailed the deck again.

“ She is heading, sir, on a course that will
bring her close in to this island."

“ Ay, ay, how is the wind?” asked Captain
Spruel. '

“Right out of the southward, sir.”

“Yes, he stood out of Portsmouth Harbor on
his ﬁrst tack, and headed in on his next under
Concord Point.

“ If he had not been coming to these islands,
he would have held his ﬁrst tack leagues out to
sea and left these isles far away on his starboard,
fetching Plum Island in his next.

“ That is the schooner, is it not?”

“ Yes, sir, it’s the Winged Arrow,” answered
the lookout, for he had a ﬁne night sea glass.

“ The captain seems determined to make the
schooner out a smuggler, Buckley, for I see no
reason why he shoal not run the coast by short
tacks, and that would fetch him near here,”
said a middy to the marine oﬁicer.

“ The captain has some motive for what he
does we don’t know I guess,” was the answer.

The schooner was now well in sight, and the
little boat was gotten ready to spring upon her

re .
1') A); the stran er came nearer she shot out from
behind Star sland, and her topmast was sent
aloft, while she began to signal in a strange
way.

The schooner still held on, paying no atten-
tion to the si ali .

Then, as t e che a boat headed so as to
cross her bews, he suddenly put her helm down
and went about as then h to run.

“ Throw a shot over m, Mr. Truett,” cried
the captain. .

The twelve-pounder, already loaded, was at
once ﬁred, and the shot ﬂew over the schooner.

But she paid no attention to it, still holding on
her course, asthough to run to the northward of
the Isles of Shoals and thus get open sea-room
for a ﬂight.

“ Try another shot, air."

A second shot was ﬁred and the schooner still

eld on.

“ At him this time, Mr. Truett.” ,

“ Ay, ay, air.” and the gun was well-aimed,
for the bowsprit of the sc coner was cut away
and she came to. I ‘

There seemed to be a momentary excitement
on board, and then, as the chebacca boat bore
down upon her there came two bright ﬂashes
from her side, two deep reports followed by a
volley of musketry, and the chebacca boat was
hit hard.

“ She is armed, by all the powers!" yelled
Captain Spruel, and he saw several of his men
upon the deck dead and wounded. “ We must
carrv her by boarding.

“ Run her aboard, elmsmanl”

“' Ay, ay,‘sir.” '

, “I knew I was right, Truett, and that the
craft was a smuggler, yes, a pirate.

“ Stand by, men. to card!”

Then came another ﬁre from the schooner,
which lay broadside to, and it also hit hard.

The chebacca boat’ helmsman was killed, and
the little craft lost her headway, for Captain
Spruel sprung to the gun.

This he ﬁred, double-shotted, and the crash of
the iron on the schooner was distinctly heard,
followed by cries and groans.

“ Don’t mind their iron, men, but give it to
them again l” cried a voice heard-on board the
chebacca boat, and they all recognized it as
Mark Mountjoy’s. ' -

Then the two guns on the schooner, and the
one on the little craft, were ﬁred rapidly, while
the latter still neared the Winged Arrow, in-

h

tending tobaard. . -

  
k

 
“It is lucky I brought a. good crew,” said
Captain Spruel, as he prepared to lead his
boarders.

But almost as he spoke another double ﬁre
came from the schooner, and. the marine emcer
fell dead, one of the middies near was Wounded,
and several of the men were cut down.

The next instant the two boats came together
with a crash, am; Ca tain Spruel sprung on
board the schoone , cut ass in hand.

But, suddenly he was confronted by Mark
Mountjoy, also armed with a cutlass, and in an
instant t e naval ofﬁcer was disarnied.

“You are my prisoner, sir!” came in Mark
Mountjoy’s ringing voice, as he disariiied the
naval ofﬁcer.

 
CHAPTER XVII.
A an) MISTAKE.

“ MY God! Captain Spmel, can this be you i’”
cried Mark Mount'oy, in a tone of horror, as he
beheld the naval 0 car by the light of the lan-
terns.

“Yes, Mark Mountjoy, it is I, and you’ll

hang for this night‘s work,” was the savage re—
sponse of the naval ofﬁcer.
‘ “ My dear sir, let me understand you,for in my
mind you are the one to hang, wearing the
rank of a naval commander and boardin an
honest coaster as you have,” returned ark
Mountjoy.

The situation was a strange one, and a start—

lin one as well.

be moment Mark Mountjoy had disarmed
Captain Spruel the attack and resistance had
ceased. ,

The boarders saw that they were met bya
force fully their equal and all well armed.

Those who were the defenders of the schooner
at once lowered their weapons to await orders
from their ca tain.

“Do you are accuse me of improper mo-
tives?” cried Captain Spruel, and he glared
upon the oung coaster.

The lat r laughed li htly and said:

“ You command t e coast— uard cruiser
Vidette; I left your vessel in t e harbor of
Portsmouth, and, in a very suspicious locality
for pirates and smugglers. I discover a vessel
coming out from behind an island. chasing me,
ﬁring on me, and I determine to resist to the
bitter end, asI happen to be blessed this trip
with several very plucky passengers and a guard
of soldiers going to Boston. '

“Now, 511', it is in order for you to explain
your piratical attack upon me, and that is the
situation in a nutshell.”

Fred Spruel was near] suﬂocating with his
intense emotion. He ecu d not beiieve that he
had made a mistake, and so he blurted out:

“ Passengers and marines be blowedl Your
crew are pirates.”

Then one of the y stepped forward, cut-
lass in hand, and said leasant y: .

“Captain Sprnel, I love?”

“ That is my name, sir,” was the almost ﬁerce

re 1 .

R Termit me to introduce in lf—Lieutenant
Herbert Deering, of the First rtillery, en route
by this craft to Boston in command of ade-
tachment of my men and two pieces of light
artillery.”

Fred Spruel had heard of Lieutenant Her—
bert Deeriug, as a young aristocrat, rich, hand-
some and a general favorite.

a

Could he, Lieutenant Frederick Sprucl. act? '
ing captain/in the Navy of the United States, ’

have made a fearful blunder?

There before him, now revealed in his ofﬁcer’s
uniform, was the artille lieutenant, and be-
hind him were a dozen sol iers. '

Could it be a trick of the young coaster to es-
caﬁe him, or was it all as it a peered?

us must make the best of is situation, so he
an - ‘

“ III-‘ardon me, sir, but let me state my position

and we can see if things are as represented, for d I

I must doubt until assured.” , . .
“I shall be glad to hear, sir, if you can ex—
plain what now appears to me to be a very awk-
ward situation,” was the reply.
I“ I have cause for believing this craft to be a

smuggler, and I followed her out of Salem, and ‘

she refused to come to at my ﬁre." 7

“ I heard of this, sir,‘iu the town." .

“ I searched her on arriving in port but
found nothing unlawful on. board; but still sud-
pecting her captain, I decided to convince my-
self, so with this craft and a score of 111 men,

came here to liein wait for her, feeling t at she ‘

would meet some fellow smuggling craft about ‘ '

these islands. ,

“ As she was standing directly for Star Island,
I felt sure that she was goin to land and hide
there pirate booty or emu 1e oods which she
had in some secret place a card er.

“ I ﬁred to bring you to, and you ran from
me, then returnedAmy ﬁre. and naturally not
knowing she was arm I believed her to have
developed intoa full- edged pirate.”

“ I understand
it, for I fear it will get you into trouble, as}:
passenger. two of my men and one of the
schooner’s crew have beenkilled, and several
wounded.” ' ’ e

“Let me ask, sir, why Lieutenant Bearing is 'l

your position, sir, and regret L

‘ 7.,\_

 
l

  
‘ my vessel and no longer detain m
‘ L

10 W

 
The Doomed Whaler.

   
on board this craft with a detachment of his
men and two guns?” asked Captain Spruel, still
suspicious.

“ When stationed in Boston, sir, the First
Light Artillery made many friends, and the
ladies have made for the command a full set of
colors, and I was deputized by the colonel, with
two gun squads and those pieces of light artil-
ler which we used upon you to—uight, sir, to go
an receive the very elegant souvenir from our
friends.”

“ Did the port commandant know of this?”

“ No, sir, for we arrived in Portsmouth just
in time to learn of the sailing of the schooner, so
came on board at once.”

Captain Spruel was not one to yield gracc~
fully, and he still hesitated, while Lieutenant
Deering, wishing no ,trouble with a brother
ofﬁcer that could be avoided, was anxious to do
all he could to convmce him by moderate means
that he stood in a false position, so said:

“I think the situation is plain enough, Cap—
tain Spruel.

“ Here I am, with my men, there are my two
pieces of light artillery, we are all in uniform
and came on board this vessel to go to Boston,
where Captain Mountjoy was going to take us
after touching at Salem.

“We saw your vessel, mistook her for a
smuggler, then for a coast pirate, and Captain
Mountjoy decided to ﬁght her with my consent,
which I readily acquiesced in, as did also the
half-dozen passengers he had on board.”

“ Permit one of them, to whom Captain
Spruel is known, to guarantee that this is no
trick of this gallant young skipper," and one of

' the ngers stepped forward.

“ r. Larkin,” said Captain Spruel, recogniz-
ing the passenger as a well-known merchant of
Portsmouth.

“ Yes, sir, and I am afraid you have made a
grave error in this aﬁlair," said Mr. Larkin.

“ Yes, but he ﬁred upon me, and—~”

" I have a right, sir, to protect my vessel
from any craft I believe an outlaw, and you
certainly gave no sign that you were sailing un-
der false colors in discharge of what you deemed
your duty. -

“ This is another score, Captain Spruel, to be
settled between us,” were the cutting words of
Mark Mountjiy.

“Never fear, sir, but I am willing to pay all
debts I owe,” returned the captain angrily.

“Then, sir, you owe it to me to at once leave

passengers.

My home is in Salem, and it do not hear

from you, sir, within two weeks, you shall
hear from me, for I am not one to submit to the
insults which you have heaped upon me, Cap-
tain Spruel.

“ All hands ahoyl toget under way.”

Lieutenant Deerinv and the passengers, as
also the soldiers, gazed at Mark Mountjoy with
surprise, not unmixed with admiration, to hear
him speak thus to the commander of a cruiser.

The lieutenant had been particularly struck
with the young coaster when he had ﬁrst seen
him on his vessel, and admired his seamanship
and nerve.

'He had had yielded readily when‘Murk had

told him he could rig a platform and ﬁre the
guns over the bulwarks, and they could whip

' off, or capture the vessel they deemed an out-

 w. r

' ‘ To the young skier he had yielded full com-
,» .mand, and he saw t
; , songs, but a man of education, reﬁnement and
v ‘_ ability.

at he was no ordinary per-

The half-dozen male passengers had also de—

‘? cided to ﬁ ht, and Mark ,Mountjoy had shown

himself fu ly equal to taking care of his vessel
and it did not take Fred Spruel long to discover

"I that he would have been readily worsted, while
.‘ his pride‘ had a fall in being disarmed by the

coaster captain, when he was voted the nest

" swordsman in the service.

i

' ' ~ ﬂeet. who had won his rank by

“I will retire. sir, and allow you to go on
your way; but were it not for the presence of
leutenant Deering and his passengers, I would

‘ n
‘  taﬁevyou back to port with me.

nder what charge, sir?" '
,- A muttered oath was the only response of the
irate captain, who retired from the schooner

, ' convinced that he had made a very sad mistake,

and carr ing with him the dead and wounded
from the inged Arrow, which at once spread

I l sail, her crew having repaired damages, and

on her southward run.
made a sad mistake,” was the con«

headed awa
“ I fear

’ ‘ tossion which Captain Spruel made to himself,

as be sou ht the port commandant, after an
early brea fast the next morningto make his

report of the affair. \ .

CHAPTER XVIIL
, ran REPORT.
‘ Tm: port commandant, Port-Captain Hunne-
. well, was a very just man and an excellent 0!-
hard ﬁghting in

the War of the Revolution.
1 ﬁe commanded the coast-line from Boston to
the'Penobscot River, with the squadron report-
ing at Portland and Portsmouth and the coast—

.  vessels than on do as revenuecntters.
Es was growuig gray‘ d the? service, had laid
(minus fortune from prim

.,v~.

  
_ ._ yandwas,

calmly awaiting promotion to a commodoreship,
after which he wished to retire, leaving history
to remember him as Commodore Hunnewell.

He had one child, a lovely daughter, in whom
his whole life was wrapped up, and the existence
also, it seemed, of a score ofyouug ofﬁcers of the
navy and army, not to speak of any number of
young merchants.

But if Grace Bunnewell had a preference she
had not shown it thus far to any great extent,
though her father had certainly picked out for
her a husband in Fred Spruel, who would soon
be, though under thirty, a captain, and was
then in command, as such, of as fine a cruiser as
ﬂoated the seas, for the Vidette was the perfec-
tion of a naval vessel of the smaller class.

Then, too, Fred Spruel had inherited a for-
tune,‘and that was also in his favor, while he
was a handsome fellow, was known to be a good
ofﬁcer, and had distinguished himself on more
than one occasion.

The captain and his daughter were just ﬁnish-
ing a breakfast when the name of Captain Fred
Spruel was brought in.

It was a cozy home, that of the port captain,
with every comfort about it, and the fair young
mistress of which—for the captain wasa wid-
ower—was certainly a beauty, deservedly the
gene that she was acknowledged to be in the

own.

Her form was willowy, and her hair of a
golden red, while her eyes were large, intensely

lack, and shaded by the longest of lashes, that
gave them the dreamy look of a Spanish
maiden.

“ Now we will know if that handsome young
coaster is really a pirate or not, for Spruel has
news, to call so early." I

“ Has Captain Spruel been pirate-hunting
again father?” asked Grace.

“ es, he has been after that hold fellow whom
he chased into port, and who would not come to
at his command, because he ﬁred on him instead
of over him.

“ The captain is convinced the young skipper
is a smuggler, but I cannot doubt a man with
his ﬁne face—— Ah, Spruel, good-morning.

“ Sit down and have some breakfast with us.”

“ Thank you, captain, but I have break-
fasted. ’

“ Miss Hunnewell, I hope you are well,” and
Captain Sprnel took a seat near the command-
ant, who responded:

“You look pale and worried, Spruel; nothing
has gone wrong, I hope?”

“ Yes, sir— Na , do not run oﬂ, Miss Hun-
newell, for what have to report will soon be
town talk as it is.” .

“ Ahl you have then made a mistake, cap-
tain,” and Captain Bunnewell motioned to Grace,
to remain, which she appeared willing to do, so
resumed her seat. i

“ Yes, sir, I made a sad mistake, though
whether the man is really a pirate or not I do
not know, and yet believe he is, for he is as
ready with his guns as an old commander.”

“ Ali! his guns? was be armed, and did he ﬁre
upon on?” ~ ,

“ e did fire upon me, sir; but let me give
you the facts of the case as they occurred,” and,
hiding nothing, Fred Spruel began his story at
his securing the chebacca boat and arming and
manning her. v ’

He was sure from the tacks made by the
schooner that she was running down to Star
Island to hide booty, or had seen him and ex-
pected to ﬁnd a confederate in him.

Then he told of the ﬁght, even to his being
disarmed by Mark Mountjoy, and added:

“ That fellow is either a superb swordsman,
Captain Hunnewell, or caught me at a disad-
vantage.” r

“ He must be, Spruel, to have _ «ﬁnanced the
best swordsman in the na .” _

“I believe it. was an acmdent, sir, for I could
not understand how it was done, the trick, if it
was a trick; but I shall have an opportunity to
know. for he will challenge m9." 2

“ Challenge you? A coast/er skipper challenge
a naval ofﬁcer?” said Grace with surprisr. l
“ Yes, Miss Grace, and he is as little like a

      
common coaster as can be.

“ He looks the gentleman, and I believe is the
son of a cler yman, and was ones in the'navy.”
“ Indeed! ut to your story, Spruel,” said the
port captain. w
“ There is little more to tell, sir, for we met,
and I got worsted, while I fear the presence on
board of Lieutenant Deering and his men will
prevent his being punished.’
“ I cannot see that he merits

    
unishment,

     
law he beat you 01!. v

“ I heard last night from Lieutenant Deering,
by a note regretting he had not time to pay his
respects, as he was to go at once to Boston,'and
I regretted it, as I knew. his father well,' and
havtlaghiard splendid re rts of his son. ‘

u
senger ll demand an investigation, while, on
account of your men, and Deering’s, who Were»
killed, I must investigate the affair, though. of
course, I take yo port as the corrgcuond' ’
" It W383 sad an “unfortunate - mistakm'aud
were  mosafﬂeudlyto yonyinight ose‘yon

 
Du

 
Captain Spruel, for believing you 0 bean out-l

 
ptain, the amﬂy of this dead’paso',

 
“ But you must put your report in writing,
and I shall take the testimony also of the officer
with you, and your men, and then you must get
to sea, cruismg between here and Boston, so I
will know where to ﬁnd you with a dispatch-
bout, if you are needed.

“I regret this affair, but I will endeavor to
show that the mistake on your part was from
zeal in your duty.

“ But you must send no challenge to this coast-
er, Mountjoy.” r

“Egad, sir, he will challenge me, and in fact
has already done so, or threatened me that I
should answer to him for my acts.”

“ Well, avoid a meeting it' possible, for we
have had enough of this aﬁ’air.

“Now go with me to my quarters,” and the
two left the mansion together, and the middy
and the men who were on board the chebacca
boat with Fred Spruel were sent for and their
testimony taken.

Captain Spruel was then told to sail for B05-
ton at once. see Lieutenant Deering and get his
report of the aﬂair, which was to be sent by
special messenger to the commandant at Ports-
month.

That same evening, leavin considerable ex-
citement in the town over t e affair, Captain
Spruel set sail for Boston, crowding his vessel
with canvas in the hope that, as the Winged
Arrow bad to put in at Salem, she would catch
her before she reached her destination.

“ That fellow is secretly a pirate, and I’ll
catch him and hang him yet,” he said to him-
self as he paced his quarter—deck in no good
humor with himself or the world.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE s'romu.

Tan bold stand taken by Mark Mountj g, dur«
ing the attack upon his-vessel by Captain pruel,
certainly raised that young sailor in the opinion
of his passengers, principal among whom was
Lieutenant Herbert Deering,

His crew having seen what he dared do, in
his ﬂight from the cruiser in the run to Ports-
mouth, were more than ever pleased to be under
his command, and were ready to execute any
order he would give.

The artillery oﬁlcer did all in his power to
help him get his vessel shipshape once more, and
when she was standing away again on her in-
terrupted tack, he said pleasantly:

“ You are a bold man, Captain Mountjoy, and
I congratulate you upon what proved a Victory
for on, though I fear you have madea bitter
foe in Captain Spruel.” _ -

“ Than you for your kind words, Lieutenant
Deering; but as for Captain Spruel I am sure
he has some sinister motive in his action to—
ward me, though what it is I cannot fathom.”

“ You bearded the lion in his den surely.”

“ I simply asserted my manhood, sir, and I
am ready to risk death in so good a cause, at
any time.

“ As you have seemed friendly toward me,
lieutenant, I will tell you that I was born and
reared a gentleman, have held a commission in
our navy, and lost it by my own wayward
career. I

" I am now trying to earn a living for myseif
and wife, who is at our home in Salem, and at
I ﬁnd that I have some secret enemy who a
plotted against me time and again. , . V

“ My wife is a lady born, the daughter of a.
Southern lanter. N o woman is more accom-
plished. e have a cozy little home, but no
one notices us in Salem and I am given the cold
shoulder by many, where I am sure nothing is
known against us to cause this.

“ Captain Spruel followed me to sea, instigat-
ed, I am sure, by my secret foe, whoever'._he
may be, and when he ﬁred on my vessel, in-
stead of over her, to bring me to, I would have
let him sink her before I would have obeyed his
orders from the cannon’s mouth.

“Not content, sir, with searching my vessel
in port, be laid a trap in v hich he hoped to

catch me, but got entrapped himself, as it may

go hard with him.”
“ I thank you, Mount}oy, for your conﬁdence
and appreciate it; but hope you will be able
to discover who this secret ice is, for one cannot
Well defend himself from an assassin, as it were,
one who strikes in the dark.” '

“ I shall ﬁnd out, sir, if in my power.”

“As to Captain Spruel, he asa great dealI
of inﬂuence, and this attack on your vessel will
be set down to his having been over-zealous to

    
do his duty.” , I _
“It may be smoothed over, err, by the

GOVergment, but I shall not forgethis insults

to me., ,

  
“You surely do not intend to 'hold himrre-
sponsible—that is, make it a personal affair be
tween you as you hinted, in fact threatened
him ou'would do“ " I , ‘
“~ certainly'shall do so, for he insulted me

y-and-for it he shall answer. If he refuses-
to resegt myfwbordgﬁo him,
re are ion 0 1m. -
3‘  are a man'I admire,
»joy,andwemust,beffiendl. ' . a; ,
I “Now I will seek my bert for I am ,ti :1,
[aud'y mantoha non‘ mum, ‘, «

  
then Ishall demand "W ‘
Captain Mount- ,_

 
Ag—«r’ L

 
The Doomed :W'haler.

 
but should you do so, pray do not hesitate to
command me.”

The dashing yoqu artillery omcer then re~
tired to the cabin or the remainder of the
night; but when he arose to breakfast he found
the sea rough, and the schooner under reefed
canvas was dashing along at a great pace, for
she had run into some nasty weather. .

All day long the weather gradually grew
Worse, until at nightfall a terrible gale was
blownig, the Seas were like miniature moun-
tains, and the Winged Arrow, under forestay-
sail and mainsail reeled down was staggering
along in a waythat made the soldiers wish they
had walked all the way to Boston, or that they
had not started on their mission, to accept the
honor intended for them.

f‘ We must lay to, if this gale grows stronger,”
said Mark Mountjoy to his mate, and as he spoke
there came a wild cry for help and a man was
swept into the sea. ‘

“Great God! it is the lieutenant, and he was
thrown against the bulwark and stunned,”
shouted a seaman forward.

“ Put about! run to leeward of me and come
to with life-lines ready to throw!”

_ The orderwas given to the mate, and ere the
lieutenant was twenty feet from the schooner’s
stern, Mark Mountjoy had cast aside his coat
uttered the command to his mate and lea
into the sea.

The mate of the schooner was a perfect sea-
man, cool in danger and fearless.

He would have checked the daring act of his
captain could he have done so; but as he did
not, he at once called the crew to action, and
the schooner was almost instantly put around
in spite of the terriﬁc sees that swept her
decks.

The passengers and soldiers, in terror crouched
wherever they could ﬁnd safety and helplessly
gazed on.

They saw the noble vessel fall elf before the
gale, and go tearing along at a. desperate ace,
while the huge seas seemed about to curl own
upon her decks as they rushed estern of her.

The mate himself had the wheel, and each
seaman was at his post, sile'nt, eager and de-
termined.

“ Schooner, ahoyl he, the Arrow!” came
from the black mass ahead, and the clear, calm
voxce of Mark Mountjoy was recognized.

.“Ay, ay, sir,” responded the mate, in even,
ringing tones.

“ l have him! Bear to starboard,'pass me and
by to, with life—”

“ ,Ay, ayhsir,” shouted the mate, as the voice
of his captain was drowned by a wave, while the
schooner drove by like the very gale itself.

Half a score on the schooner beheld, in the
lurid light of the waves. the daring captain, and
they saw, too, that he upheld a form in his
arms. ‘

“ Stand by, all! Ready, aboutl ‘

“ Well done my beaut l tand b all with
life-lines! Steiidy!” y s y

The orders came from the mate as he put the
schooner round, and all vWﬂOhEd the result,
while a cheer broke-from the crew as the beau-
tiful craft lay to, riding the waves like a duck,
and directly in the course that the gale must
drive the bold resouer and the rescued.

“ Together, all of you—cheer!”

At the mate’s command a wild cheer went up
from all, and above the howling gale came the
response they had hoped for:

‘ Ay;_ayl stand by with your lines!”

Then in the darkness was seen the rescuer and
the one he sought to save, and the lines were
than. te ,

ewa rs had revived the stunned oﬁcer
and a splendid swimmer, he also grasped a liné

, as Mark Mountjoy did, and they swept stern-

ward, under the lee oi the schooner-’3 stern were
brought up With a sudden pull, and then strong
arms drew them on board, amid a wild cheer,
which ended in a yell of joy from all.

“ It was a close call, sir, and I congratulate
you," said the mate to the young ofﬁcer.

“It was the deed of a hero, of the bravest of
men, to rescue me, and God knows in heart is
yours, Mark .Mountjoy,” said HerbertyDeering,
with an emotion he could not conceal.

“ No other would have dared attempt it, sit”
said a passenger, with enthusiasm. « '

, “I’ve had practice at just such work, so it
came on ,” was the offhand remark of Mount-
joy, and e added: '
But come, lieutenant, that Was a hard blew
you got, to stun you as it did, and you, need to
lice tb’e mam-brace with me, and change your
c {thigh ﬁling“ led the ofﬁcer into the cabin.

a poured on deck half an hour
after, the gale had abated somewhat. and the
schooner was put on her co me once more, as
soon as her young captain r t that it Would be
safe to do so. and by dawn she passed, out or. the

cit-clap! the storm para
waters, and under 3% °i3m "Elmi “math

>, along tozard Salem, with  

R

in sight

CHAPTER.
an amour ton“,-

t «Egbert Deer'ing‘was entices
 Mama-seamen

were willing for a short delay, when Mark
Mountjoy said he would land them in Salem
with as ittle delay as possible, the course was
laid to the southwest from Thatcher‘s Island for
Boston Light.

The wind was from the northeast, blowing
fresh, and the Winged Arrow went along at a
speed that was the admiration of all on board.

Boston Light came in view soon after dark,
and the run into the harbor was quickly made
and the schooner ran alongside of the Govern-
ment Dock.

“ My dear friend Mountjoy, we part now, but
I assure cyou that you carry my life-long friend-
ship, an whenever I can Serve you in any way
I know you will call upon me."‘

“You are most kind, Lieutenant Deering, and
all I would ask of you is your report in this af-
fair as it occurred, for I do not care for trouble,
and where those in authority would take the
word of a naval oﬂicer against that of a coast
skipper, such as I am, your word, as an army
lieutenant, not to speak of yourself, would have
great weight," returned Mark Mounth , as he
stood with the army officer on the whar , as the
last of the soldiers and their traps were coming
ashore.

“ I shall make my report at once and send it
to Commandant Huunewell at Portsmouth, for
to him of course Spruel will make his report;
but all are ashore, so I will not detain you.

“ Good-by, and my friendship go with you
and expect to see me in‘ Salem soon, for I shall
run down on leave to visit an old aunt, whose
heir I am, and who lives there.”

He gras ed Mark’s hand as he spoke, and
springing ack upon his deck the coaster gave
the order to cast elf, and the Winged Arrow at
once began to move out of the harbor.

“ Our skipper’s luck,” said one of the men, as
he pointed to the sea, and another added:

“ Yes, the wind was fair for us here, switched
around while we were at the wharf and now
comes out of the southeast strong, so we can run
home as soon as we get outside,” added another
of the men.

The passengers retired to their bunks, after
leaving Boston, and Mark took the wheel until
Boston Light was left astern, and then left the
mate in charge to seek much~needed rest.

When he awoke the Winged Arrow was glid-
ing ast his own home on the shore of Salem
Her or, and the sun was shining brightly.

His wife stood on the porch waving to the
schooner, which she so Well knew, and which she
had been most anxious about, for the rumor had
gone about that the Vidette hadgone off in chase
of the Winged Whale, whose captain had been
caught smuggling. r

It was just what all had expected, was the al-
most universal remark of the gossips, for no one
knew anything about“ those Mountjoys,” and
they were “ too good looking to be honest folks,
and put on too man airs.“

These ugly remar 3 had reached the ears of
Alma Mountjov,/and glad was her heart when
she sighted the schooner coming up the harbor.

There could he no mistake about it, she was
not under the control of the Vidette’s crew, for
there, ﬂoated her husband‘s ﬂag at the fore,,a
blue ﬁeld with a gold arrow in the center, the
feathers of the arrow being in the shape of a
bird’s wings. , ‘

And more, Alma recognized the tall, splendid
form of her husband as he stood on deck and
waved to him, the salute being returnedby dip-
ping the arrow ﬂag. .

Up to her anchorage glided the schooner, and
peo le looked and wondered.

Where was the Vidette’i

\Vhy had not the Winged Arrow 8. crew from
the cruiser in charge?

Certainly the Vidutte had goneoﬂ in hot chase,
and incom ngvessels had reported the vessel-of-
war as ﬁring on the schooner, which was in full
ﬂi ht. .
ow, as thou h to give the gossips a slap in
the face, the in Arrow returns to her
wharfoin Salem and er youn skipper, leaving
his mate to discharge the he ght, walks coolly
had gathered on the coke to see what it all
meant. _ ‘ _

“Well, Captain Mountioy, I did not expect to
.see you back again from all reports,” said the
e agent as Mark entered the oﬂice.

“ And ,why, sir, may I ask?"

“ On account of your having been pursued to
sea by the Vidette, and charged with smuggling
which I know to be all besh ’ ,

. “ Ca tain B ruel made a mistake, sir. that is
all, and) I thin he has placed himself in a still
, more awkward position.

“ But I wish to report return, sir. a day over-
due, bnt then I met with adolay OR the Isles of
Shoals, and againfrom going to Boston to land
an omoer and detachment of soldiers r

“ I have a gond cargo, and my mate is in
charge: but. should I he wanted, you will ﬁnd
,me'at homei” - ,v ,

, ’80 saying Mark Mountjoy left the ofﬁce and
wended his way homeward, while the agent re-
marked to a clerk: . a _ 
, “That, fellowis as ‘ d .as A‘Lucifer,land I

 
‘eanj homer-edriendlyig th thesﬁommander of

up to his agent, ignorin ,the curious crowd that r

'sayl amtrebl as well “:03 as

 
S,

trouble, that is certnin, and I must get out of
the mate just what it is," and the agent moved
away toward the wharf where the Winged v V ,’
Arrow lay disoharging her cargo. i, -

Her torn sails, newly patched, temporary  i
bowsprit and other marks indicated that she ,
had been under a hot ﬁre; but the passengers ,3 .1
had landed and gone to attend to the business - , \ ,
that brought them there, and the mate and sea- 4 1
men were quietly attending to their work, all ‘ ‘
unconscious of the crowds gazing at them, and
unwind ful of the questions put to them regard-
ing‘ their cruise.

he agent entered the cabin, accompanied by
the mate, and soon learned the whole story.

“ That captain of yours is a very devil, mate,
when aroused, and yet as courtly as a prince in
his hearing. '

“ He was utterly unconcerned itseemed to me,
and told me nothing of the affair, and if he has
said it, he will keep his word and make Captain
Spruel answer for what he did.”

“ You may be sure of it, sir,” was the mate’s
answer.

In the mean time Mark Mountjay had walked
ra idly on toward his cottage homo. ‘

’ t was a pret‘tiy place, standiu back in aﬂow-
er garden, an not a bond feet from the
Walters of the harbor, the very home for a young
em or.

Alma, looking very beautiful stood at the
gate to welcome him, and the nurse with his,
pretty twin children greeted him at the door.

But Alma’s quick eyes told her that something
had gone wrong with her husband, and as soon
as breakfast was over she led him out into the
rustic arbor in the garden.

“ What is it. Mark?" she said softly, gazin
into the face of the man in whom her wholeli’ e
and soul was wrapped up.

“ Ah, Alma, your keen eyes have seen that
something has gone wrong, and you are right,"
113 dsaid with a smile and then he told her all,
a mg: ' ,

“ I am sure that Spruel has been set on to this
by some one in the town, and that some one is

our, or my secret foe, and I can look to him for
my treatment received by the people. -
. Now I must ﬁnd out just who this secret foe
lS.’

“ I think I can tell you, Mark, though do not
act hastily.”

“ You can tell me?”

“ Yes, for a entleman called ‘here soon after
you sailed, sai that you had been suspected of
smuggling and that the Vidette had sailed.“ in .
chase of you, and the result would be your ar-e a, -_
nest and imprisonment, and asked me, as he sup-
posed Iﬂ would not care to live here longer,»
sell him this place. i ‘ *

“ He seemed to know so much that I mat the
nurse down town to see what she could ﬁndout.
and no one else appeared to know any thing, ,
othe’r than that the cruiser had followed you to
“ And who was this gentleman who was so
sure of my imprisonment?" asked Mark Mount-

J0 . .
x ThatI do not know, but I can describe him g i
and you will be able to ﬁnd him out,”, was
Alma’s answer, and she added: .‘ , "
“ He is a ﬁne looking man past thirty,
very stylishly and wears considerable jaws j
for I noticed a watch-chain and handsome‘wa
which he several times took out to look at, 9!!
though to impress me with it. ‘ " ,1, ,
“Then he wore two rings, a scarf-pin, rum
shirt and ends.” ‘ ~
“ I will keep watch for just such a many;
Almn,’l said Mark Mountjoy. 1. .'

   
CHAPTERXXI. - s ' 
nasrnnaunuan. ‘ "

Tan ﬁrm of Vail 8:, Company were daily be— .-
coming richer and richer. . .
Their main house was in G-——-—, on the coast
but they had branch ofﬁces in Boston and
Salem, under competent agents. v, , ,

Captain Vail was not a man to spend his time ‘
in command of a Whaler, when he could enjo a
life of luxury at home, so he passed most of s
time at his elegant house in G—-—-—, making.
monthly visits l0 his other housesi ‘,

He had been in Salem nhen -tbe Wihged -
Arrow sailed. with the Vidette in obese, and he
had remained longer than was his wont, stop,
plug at the Salem Inn, which was well kept,‘ "
and had been handed down‘ like an heirloom,
from father to son for several generations.  y

Captain Vail satin his pleasant rooms at the
inn, enjoying his - breakfast, which was a very
substantial affair. for the merchant seller was a , -
ban meant, and he was smiling contentedly to '
himself for with him all was prosperous.  a 1,;

'He-hdd decided to more largely intoithe‘
whaling business, and ad sent an agent to pure.
chase several large andﬂne vessels. whichwem
to be equipped and sent to join the
then at the whaling grounds, and among w
Were twoof'bis own ships. _ : V a ._

, ‘31 am growing rich, rapidly, in fact may

_ was whammy ‘*
‘tatherileftm infoz'tune. . ,n 3.
 “W  

 
—.:~\.a.- :' 

or, \u. 1

12‘

t . ,. .. ’ “gum”, f. ,‘l..}.,?,yfjvk .m, g.“

The  Whaler.

v .x -. ,    Mu. ,w m.» V‘ g-m "xx 3, -

 
Mount_'oy, and married that infernal old miser,
Peter
prisoner in his gloomy old rookery.

“ So be it, he cannot live always, and I’ll be
able to double his fortune and again offer her
my hand when she is a. widow, for I still love
her, and always will.

“ But Mountjoy’s career must be settled ﬁrst,
and I guess it is about ended in a prison by this
time— Come in!”

The door opened in anSWer to his call, and in
walked Justin Laws, the conﬁdential clerk of
Vail & Co.

Justin Laws was a small man, smooth-faced,

‘ with the air of a parson's clerk, and he had a

habit of rubbing his hands together like one in
agony all the time.

But he was not a sufferer, and his landlady,

ood Mistress Swett was willing to avow that
Eustin Laws could eat more at a single sitting
than an other three of her boarders.

Mr. ustin Laws was ambitious to make
money, and out of his salary had saved up quite
a sum, but of this he kept his own counsel.

Since Captain Vail had raised his salary he
had ut on more airs, and several times had
beengznown to treat to a glass of ale or grog at
the inn, a surprise that his fellow clerks could
not at over.

“ ell, Mr. Laws, what is the news?” asked
Captain Vail, convinced that something out of
the usual run had caused his clerk to visit him
at his rooms. .

Mr. Laws came forward, rubbing his hands as
usual, smiling like one who had a trap to spring,
and pointed out of the window.

The captain sprung up and glanced down to-
ward the water. '

“ What is it?”

“ The schooner.”

“Hal there is the Winged Arrow.”

“ Yes, sir, at her dock.”

“ Why not at the Government dock?”

“ She came back alone, sir."

“And the Vidette?”

“ Has not returned.”

“ Where is she?”

“ Don’t know, sir.”

“ When did the Winged Arrow come in l"

“ Half an hour ago, aptain Vail.”

‘ She has a prize crew on board, of course?”

“ Her own crew.”

“ And an ofﬁcer from the Vidette in com-
mandi”

“No, Captain Vail she has come back under
her own skip r and his crew, and is discharg-
ing her freig t at her agent’s wharf."

“ The deuce!”

“ Yes, sir,” said Justin Laws, not knowing ex-
actlv what to say.

“ The Vidette certainly overhauled bor.”

-“ She is badly scarred up, sir, from shot-
marks.” ,

“ Well, Laws, go and ﬁnd out the truth about
her return, and come to me in my ofﬁce when
'you have done so.”

, “ Yes, sir," and Mr. Laws cast a. longing look
at the break fast-table.

“ Have you breakfasted?”

, “ Only a cup of coffee, sir, as I saw the
schooner coming, and hastened away tosee what
I. could discover.”

‘,‘ Pull that bell-rope and sit down and eat
breakfast," said Captain Vail, who was a very
hospitable man; but had he Seen what “ only a
cup of coffee ” meant in Mr. Laws’s estimation,
he would have considered that he had certainly

- breakfasted, and wondered that the good Widow

cues in the ofﬁce of the nior member 0

Swett did not charge him as twins.

Havin laid in an extra foundation for work
Mr. Justin Laws sallied forth on his mission and
a couple of hours afterward put in an up a;-
t e
shi ing ﬁrm of Vail & m an .

‘ Well?” p y

Mr. Laws had a smile on his fame; he seemed

‘ to feel that the word was well uttered, for all
'was well, as far as his investigations were con-

cerned. . V
Captain Vail saw that his man bad news, so
threw himself into a seat and motioned him to

, another,

“ You have made some discovery, Laws?”

“ I have, sir.”

“ Out with it.”

“You know, sir, since our compact, that I
was to serve you outside of the ofﬁce work, I
have been quite friendly with young Mabrey
Manning?”

“ Who is he?”

“ The mate of the Winged Arrow sir.”

“Ah, yes; I recalled the name but not the

man. ,
“ Well?” ‘
“ I know his mother, so on that account based

our friendship, and as I am an elder in the
Methodist church, I\ made bold to lend him some

book—553011» that would purify the soul of man,
r and

"‘Curse your cant and hypocris Law and

tell me W at you have done.” y, 5’
Justin we looked shocked, but he knew

Ezra Vail, and so dropped his whine and con-

“I went to see Mate Manning, air, and found

‘hlmvabnsy,butasked him, when he got at

utledge, and now is living the life of a '

I leisure, to step up to the coffee-house and have a
' chop and glass of ale with me."

“ Oh, Lord! did you eat a third breakfast,
Laws?”

Mr. Laws looked hurt, but said:

“ It was to draw him out, sir.”

“ You must have had to draw yourself out
like a telescope to hold more; but go on.”

“ Ale and a chop, sir, are the things to make
a man sociable. and I soon had Mabrey talking
freely and I got it all."
to‘ﬁlot all what? His chop and ale, and yours,

0
“ Oh, no, sir; I got all the particulars.”

“Ah, I see; and what. are they?”

t ‘,"The cruiser did not bring the Winged Arrow
0.
“ The deuce you sayl”

“ No, sir. Captain Mountjoy—”

“ Don’t call the mere master of a coasting
craft captain, for he is but a skipper,” said Ezra
Vail, impatiently.

Justin Laws could see no difference in the
right to the title; it was a distinction without a
difference, as long as a man commanded a ves-
sgl and crew, be it a ten-tonner or a whale-
s 1p.

But he did not argue and continued:

“ Cap—Skipper Mountjoy was angry be-
cause Captain Spruel ﬁred upon his vessel be-
fore he ﬁred a shot to bring him to, and so held
on in spite of a bot fire.”

“ He’s a bold fellow.”

“ Yes, sir, that is just what he is, and he ran
on to Portsmouth, dropped anchor in the bar-
bor and there waited for the Vidette to come up
with him.” .

“ And she was Seized?”

“Yes, sir, and stripped clean at the Govern-
ment dock and nothing found on board that
was lawless.”

“ This is strange, for I was sure that fellow
was smuggling.” said Captain Vail.

“ She was released, sir, and then reloaded for
Salem.”

“She has secret lockers somewhere, in which
the smuggled oods are stowed.” ,

“ They con (1 not ﬁnd them, sir, and so she
was released and loaded for Salem; but got an
unexpected lot of passengers in an army lieu-

Boston.

“ Captain Spruel set a trap to catch the
Winged Arrow, by going with a crew in a
small craft and lying off the Isles of Shoals,
when he pounced upon the young skipper and
got whipped oﬂ’ and taken himself.”

“ Then Mountjoy’s fate is sealed!” V

“ No, sir, for the . soldiers defended the
Winged Arrow, not knowing the attacking
garty, and suspecting they were pirates, and

aptain Spruel went back to Portsmouth, car-
rying the dead and wounded, and to report the
very grave mistake he had made.”

Captain Vail uttered an oath between his
shut teeth, and then said almost ﬁercely:
“Justin Laws the end of this is not yet, and I
rely upon you to aid me if you love gold.

‘ Go now, and let me think.”

 
CHAPTER XXII.
run rwor orrrcnns.

TEE Vidette and the Winged Arrow passed
each other in the night, and in the darkness
were not si hted. .

Captain red Spruel was anxmus to meet the
little schooner, for he did not care to have Lieu-
tenant Deering discuss the affair at the Isles of
Shoals, but to make his report.

A ﬁshing-smack reported to the commander
of the Vidette that he knew the Winged Arrow
well. had seen her, and she had stood on toward
Boston, so Captain Spruel at once headed for
that port, and in the darkness failed to meet
the little vessel. ,

He ran into the harbor by day, and after
coming to an anchor, at once went to the hotel
where he was wont to put up when in town, and
which was the resort of the young aristocrats of
Boston.

He was greeted by many who knew him, and
at once saw that something was going on out of
the usual run.

“Grand ball to-night, Spruel, in,honor of Her-
bert Deering, you know.

" A military affair, so of course you are go-
ing, as I’ll send for an invitation for you," said a
young aristocrat. .

“ I wanted to ’see Deering, but hardly think I
shall attend the ball.” ’ ‘ ‘

“ Then you won’t see him, for he is dining
with the governor» now, and goes from there to
the ball, and at dawn sails for Portland with his
men. I

“ This is a special affair to him from his old
friends, gotten up on the spur of the moment,
after the presentation of the colors, which you
know about."

“ I heard of it. yes: but is there any news?”

“ Nope. more than that there was an attack
on Deering’s craft on the way here, by some
naval oﬂlcer, who I did not learn, and in a
storm the lieutenant was stunned by a wave

 
hurlin him against the bulwarks and he was
washed overboard." ‘ r 3  

 
tenant, with some guns and soldiers, going to '

“ How in Heaven’s name did he escape, if he
encountered the storm I did, and I suppose he
must have.

“ I had to lay to for thirty hours.”

“ Why the young skipper of the craft jumped
overboard after him.”

“ Nonsense.”

“ It is true, and we only wish we had the
young skipper with us to—night, for Deering
says he is a handsome fellow, and he certainly
showed his pluck in beating off the craft that
attacked him, and then going overboard after
the leftenant.

“ Come. dine with me, and then go aboard
ship, and rig out in your most gorgeous uniform,
and go to the ball, for there will be scores of
lovely women there.”

" I’ll go, thank you,” and, three hours after,
Captain Fred Spruel, looking very handsome in
his full uniform, entered the ball-room with his
friend Field Woodford.

Field Woodford boasted of his family, was
rich, handsome, a gentleman and a favorite,
though a triﬂe fast.

It was not long before Herbert Deering, the
guest of the evening, met Captain Spruel face to

ace.

Ige started slightly, looked surprised, and then
sax :

“ I am glad to see you here, Captain Spruel.

“ When did you reach port?”

Fred Spruel ad waited for the army ofﬁcer
to speak, and as he did so pleasantly, he replied
in the same manner:

“ A few hours since, and I came particularly
to see you.”

“ Indeed! and how can I serve you, Captain
Spruell” ‘

Lieutenant Deering, and suggested to the com—
mandant that he should have yours also, and he
requested 'me to ask you to send it at once by
special messenger overland.”

“ I shall do so, and I only hope it will do you
no harm, Captain Spruel; but let me tell you
how that handsome, gallant young skipper saved
my life—”

“I have heard, and I congratulate you,” was
the cold reply, and then the sailor added:

“ It was not during the storm of course.”

“ It was, in the very hardest part of the
blow.”

“ You could hardly have encountered the
storm I did, for that craft you were on would

for thirty hours.”

“We got it in all its fury; but the Winged
Arrow is a splendid sea craft, and then Mount-
joy is the ﬁnest sailor I ever met, but do you
know aught regarding him, Captain Spruel, for
to me he is it very remarkable man, and there
seems to be some mystery about him.”

1Cgptain Spl‘ll91 laughed almost rudely, and re-
ie :
p “ I know only that he is accused of smuggling,
and on the best of authority, while the mystery
will bedcleared u when I get him at the yard-
arm of my vesse , for I have reason to believe
that he is even worse than a smuggler. ’

The eyes of Lieutenant r Herbert Deering

filesllied, and an angry retort seemed to spring to
is i 8.

Butt; checking himself he said coldly: I

“ I can understand how on cannot admire
him, Captain Spruel; but do and he is my
friend. ‘ r

Hunnewell Without fail.
“ Good-night, Captain S ruel.”
He walked away, and ed Spruel felt un-
comfortable. , ‘
“ Curse the fellow, I believe he means that for

a on . l

“ When I have run down this pirate Mounts
joy, he will apologize to me for his words and
manner 'ust now " and not wishing to remain
longer w ere Her rt Deering was the guest of
the evening, he pleaded oﬂcial work to Field
Woodford and went on board of his vessel in no
very amiable frame of mind.

After the ball Herbert Deering went to his
hotel, made out his ofﬁcial report of the aﬂair
at the Isles of Shoals, and dispatched it by spe—
cial mesenger to Portsmouth.

Then with his men he went on board of the
Portland Packet, and left Boston behind him
just as the sun rose above the horizon of the
Atlantic. ’

k The next morning Captain Fred Spruel dis-
covered that thewpapers had ,the story of his
attack upon the inged Arrow, the midnight

mail havi g brought full particulars, as known

in Portsnfduth. , I
’ “ There is an evident deSire here to put

me in a false and ludicrous light, I see,” he said,

in an angry tone, and he opened a letter which
had arrived on that morning by the mail-coach.

“ By Heaven! a challenge from that coaster,
Mark Mountjoy,” he said, almost ﬁercely as his
eyes glanced at the contents of the letter he held
in his hand. A I , ,

CHAPTER XXIII.

 
' m CHALLENGE. \ '
Timletter which Mark Mount oy,had writ—
ten to Captain Spruel ofjhe .Vl ette, washes

. i

“ I made my report of that unfortunate affair,

not have lived through it; why, I had to lay to'

“I shall send the report to Commandan

 
417‘?

 
The Doomed. Whaler.

A; «.Vi-gc- ,,

v ' ' 13- 

 
exactly a challenge, though it might be so un-
derstood.

It had been written from Salem, the day be-
fore, and “as as follows:

“ON BOARD Scnooumn WINGED Anaow,
" SALEM HARBOR, Sum. 10, 18—.
“ To CAPTAIN FunnaniCK Spluun, COMMANDiNG U. S.
CUTTER VlDET’I‘l-Iz—

“ Sim—Convinced by your words and actions to-
ward inc that you have some secret. sinister motive
in your unjust persecutions of me, I desire to know
from you what cause of quarrel you have aguinst
inc, and why, leaving to real smugglers and pirates
to carry on their lawless work you waste your services
and time in endeavoring to prove an honest craft
guilty of breaking the law?

" If you have aught against me that you wish
satisfaction for, why not manfully demand it. and
not attack my character, and with your crew and
your guns at your buck, play the part of a. coward
in your warfare against me.

“ You have accused me before the world as a free-
hooter, and l have thrown the lie back in your face,
so expect you to resent it.

"Should you consider my position in life too
humble for you to challenge me, I shall resent the
insult cast upon me in my own way.

“ 1 will be at Salem Eur ten days.

“ Your obedient servant,
“ MARK Mounraor.”

. Captain Fred Sprue] was angry at ﬁrst, when
he read this letter. and then he was worried.

He did not wish to attract further attention
to himself just then by a duel, and more. he was
convinced that Mark Mountjoy was really a
smuggler, if not a pirate.

'He at last decided to seek one who could ad-
‘Vise him, for he could not submit to being
called a coward by the skipper of a coaster
even.

If he could prove Mountjoy a smuggler, he
would not have to meet him in a personal en-
counter. '

So he went ashore and wended his steps to the
Boston ofﬁce of Ezra Vail & Company.

To his inquiry if Captain Vail was in the city,
he was told that he was at (3—.

That afternoon he set sail for (3—, and upon
arriving there the next da learned that Captain
Vail had just started for ‘alem. ’

So to Salem the Vidette went, and running in
by night, when the morning broke it was seen
that she had dropped anchor close by the
Winged Arrow.

This looked like design, but it was purely an
scoldent, though a coincidence that the Vidette
in running in should have steered clear of all
the other vessels in port, and dropped anchor so
near the schooner of Mark Mountjoy.

Anxious to see Captain Vail alone, the com-
mander of the Vidette had gone ashore at an
early hour and sent his name up to the merchant
Whaler at the tavern.

In a short while he was invited up tothe pleas-
ant rooms of Captain Vail, and breakfast for
two was ordered.

“ Well, captain, glad to see you; but it seem
you slightly overdid the matter in your desire
to catch, Mo‘untjoy.” said Ezra Vai‘l, and as he
threw himsmf into an easy-chair,,Fred Spruel
.asked quickly: '

V “ What have you heard?”

“I That he outrun you to Portsmouth, after re-
fusmg to come to at your demand, and bold-
]y received your ﬁre.” .

“ Yes, he_ did that; but what also?” ‘ '

“ You failed to ﬁnd anything illegal on his
“all; t tru h '

a was e, so w at wasto be done

“ What did you do?” ‘ g”

‘.‘Ai.'ter all you told me I was convinced he
was wrong, so I laid a. trap for him.”

:‘ And got caught yourself.
be ‘vge'lsdabglzveit‘ls‘eg-dog, Spruelc,l and I told you
. u at at to win ward ”
Ez‘rawlgail ﬁmilcd. g or, and

at ave you heard I sk d ' -
:patiently said Fred Spruel; a 9 you? im
Of‘é’lll‘hg; 37:1; gen: outt to cafch him off the 119:
» o a on or a
badly wbvipped." P rate and got pretty

“It is not so, though I confess,*bnt for the

fact that I saw I had made a mistake, I would-

have been driven off."

“ And what does old Hunnewell say about it?"

“I'made my report, Lieutenant Deerin has
sent in his, and it Will be laid aside for future
reference, which means nothing will be done
about it.” 4

“ I hope not, for your sake, for the laugh is
upon you."

And you
saggy rstort. s 1
.ar on me prue but let us understand
gigasituption of' both of ,us,'f0r I got you into, no
“ gem: vOuched for it to me that this man was
:gggggﬁédalped magi wguld ﬁnd contraband
, nea ' "
2: ﬁne I believe it.” Is ,eCks.
r c ing upon‘this I pursued hi and board-

ﬁtlglnlng amen I found him in 133:, but found

“ He had gotten the oods ashore.” ‘ '

2 Not so, for he had got sent a boat ashore.”

“ Then some boat had come on! to him.”

“No, for I made every inquiry." ;
I ‘ How far ahead of you was he in the chase?”

got me into the scrape,” was the

l.

 
“ Leagues, for though the Vidette sails like a l
witch that fellow’s cratt beat her badly. ” l

“ Could he not have had a boat loaded and Sent ‘
her off when near Isles of Shoals, or even sent 3
a craft there, and you not seen her, for the re-
port says the schooner arrived at night?”

“ By Jove! I never thought of that."

“ Then that was it without doubt."

“ I begin to think so.”

“Now how came you to make such a mis-
take as the attack on him oﬂ’ the Isles of
Shoals?”

“ Trusting in your word that you knew he
had smuggled goods on board.”

“There, you rap at me again, Captain Spruel.”

“I think with justice.” '

“ Permit me to do as I intended a. moment
ago, explain the situation.

" You owe me a large sum of borrowed
money, in round ﬁgures, two thousand dollars,
and I need it.

“Your duty is to hunt down smugglers, and
when I asked you to pay me, you said if you
could only get some prize-money you could.

“ Then I suggested a. plan.

“ I told you that it was worth to me the
amount you owed me, to capture a certain
smuggler, and perhaps you would ﬁnd him to
he a pirate as well, and when he was imprison-
ed, or hanged, I would give you a receipt for
the sum due me from you.

“ I gave you my reasons for believing this
man to be a smuggler, and you agreed with me
that he must be an‘ outlaw and were willing to
undertake his capture. V

“ You failed to prove him such, and so the
matter stands.”

“ I have not given up the chase yet, Ezra
Vail, and the man’s conduct toward me gives,
me another incentive to run him down.”

“ Ahi how is that?”

“What would you think of his challenging
Hie Egr- daring to accuse him of being a smug-

er?

“ It would be just like him.”

“ And I suppose you think I should accept?”

“ Well, as to that you are the best judge. ‘

“ But has be challenged you?”

“ Here is his letter.”

The merchant read it carefully, and said:

“ Well, it is plain enough.”

“Oh, yes; but if we can rose him to be a.
pit-at? or smuggler, I shal not have to meet

1m.

“ Very true, and we must do it.”

H How?”

“ When does he sail?"

“ In ten days from the writing of this letter.”

“Then we have a week to work in.”

“ But we can prove nothing in that time.”

“ 1 am not so sure of that.

“ Leave it to me, Spruel—leave it to me, for I
will see that we get the proof of his being a.
smuggler,” and the eyes of Ezra Vail glittered
with ‘a wicked light in them, as though he hated
thelman of whom he spoke with all his heart and
son .

 
CHAPTER XXIV.
UNDERHAND WORK.

Arms. having sent his letter to Captain
Spruel, Mark Mountjoy felt sorry that he had
done so.

" I should have waited to see what he meant
to do,” he muttered.

But it was too late to repine for what his in-
dignation had caused him to do, so he could only
take the consequences as they came.

His regular day of sailin was over a week
off," and he was at his pretty ome resting, and
leaving his mate to get the Schooner in perfect
trim once more.‘ '

“ Mark, there is a gentleman here to see you,”
said Alma, one morning after breakfast.

Mark went out upon the piazza and beheld a
man whom he knew to be a. clerk in a shipping
house in town. _ _ V

“ I’ve called, captain, to see if you can run a
small cargo for our house from Boston here?”

“ My day of sailing is just a week off. sir.”

“ I kn 1w that, air, but, your mate said, as we
were willing to ‘ve big y, for it is a special
order, and 'we ave the oxes ready to Send
after the things. so the delay would not be
much.”

“ When can I start?”
i“”We can get you the boxes aboard by night,
s r.

“ And I have to have them sent ashore and
ﬁlled there?"

“ Yes, sir.”

“ How long will it take?” ,

“ A day, sir; and we will give double pay for
the run, as it is a special one.”

Monn tjoy was silent a moment and then said:

“I’ll go, so at your boxes ready, as soon as
possible, and will come down-town soon and
see that the sobonner is ready.”

“ Thank 1you. Captain Mountjoy: we a pre—’
ciate your indness, sir,” and the man too his
departure. , ' > V

‘M'arkJ don’t like that man’s face—who is
he?” asked Alma, when the visitor had gone.

“ I believe his name‘i’s Laws, and he is clerk

 
for Vail & Company.” ' ,
f‘ I would not trust a man with such a face.”

.I

 
“ Why, he stands high here in the church, and ,
is a nod man, I believe, though, with you, Ale 1}
ma, don’t like his face; but now I must go ‘;
down—town and get the Arrow ready for this .
run, for it will pay me well, and some day, my I}
dear wife, I must make you rich again and give . ' V 2
you as ﬁne a home as you once had.” ‘ l

“ Ah, Mark, I am happy with you, no matter - ,v ‘
it we were ever so poor,’ was the answer. ‘

Mark Mountjoy found that Mate Manning had.
gotten the schooner in perfect trim once more,
and she was soon hauled in alongside the wharf
of Vail & Co. and the boxes to he sent to Boston
to be packed and returned for shipment abroad,
were being brought by carts to be put on board.-

Ml‘. Laws was present, and after having seen
that all was going well he wended his way back i
to the ofﬁce. »

Ca tnin Vail was there, and entering the oﬂ‘lce ;'
Mr. awe said:

“ It’s all right, sir.”

“ He agreed to go?"

“ Yes, sir.”

“ And leaves when?”

“ To—night, sir.” i ‘ _

“ And the other craft?” »

“ Sails from Marblehead as soon as I send ,
word, air.” 7

“ Then send word at once.”

“ Yes, sir,” and Justin Laws disappeared.

Hardly had he done so when Captain Fred
Spruel entered. V

“13h, Spruel, I was just going aboard to see

“Am glad I saved you the trouble, Vail,
though you are always welcome in my son home
as you know. ”

“ I have news for you."

“ And I for you; but let me hear what you
have to as ﬁrst.”

“Well, told you I would arrange it and I
have."

“ To catch Mountjoyl”

“Yes, but you must aid me, as I wrote you
this morning.’

“ I am wholly at your service.”

“I felt that'you would be; but you can sail
soon?” v

“ Well, yes; I am ready, as far as that is con.~ ',
corned,” was the reply, seemingly With health» ,
tion. '

“ Good! than there is no trouble.”

“ What is your plan?” -

“ I have some unboxed goods in Bosthn I am‘ , ;
anxious to get, and I have the boxes here, so I
thought it would be a good idea to have Mount» L ’
joy, while awaiting his day of sailing, to run to
the city for me. ‘ 1

“He Will carr the boxes, nominawllly to be
packed there, an if you are at sea . th your
vessel, you must lie oli‘. the Boston Li htship,
bring him to and make a thorough searc of hw‘ v
vessel. ' ‘ ' * l - I

“ You spoke with the some. conﬁdence be-‘ 5,
fore.

“ Do as I tell you, if you wish to cancel that 5. 3
two thousand dollars, listen to no excuses, and
sim 1 put under arrest all on board.”

“ ’ i do it; but then?”

“Bring your prize to this port.” ,_

“Why not to Boston?” * ‘

“ It is best to bring him here,” was the signiﬁ-
cant response.” ‘ '

“ I understand.” '

“I hope so, for thll‘ﬂmo nothing
carry.” ,

hing aide?” .
‘ “We , no. ’  '
“Now hearm story?”

“ Yea, I am a l attention.”
“ I met Mpuntjoy just now." .

“Indeed?
your wharf, and he steps

  
i

S, .

“Yes, I landed at ‘
ped forward and confronted me.” ‘
Li Y Ias 19

“He was courtly as a. prince, but his smile 7"
was devilish, and he said: . f .. .

“ ‘ Captain Spruel, I presume? ' i

“ I replied in the aﬂrmative, and heeoolly
asked if I had had received a letter. . '

“I told him I had and he asked my intention
regarding it." ‘ ‘ ‘

“ And our reply?" - 4

“ 1 rep ied that as a gentleman and an oﬁlcer' ,4
I could not meet one under the taint oi! being a. ' .
lawless character, and so refused.” . ‘ -'

“Good! and then?” I ‘  \

“ He plainly told me that the charge had been. ‘
disprove against him, and I told him than that: '
he was n my equal." ' ‘  ‘

“ And his reply?” '

“ That this was America, where all men ware
free and equal, that he was born a gentleman. 
and unless I retracted my words to him in;
writing, he should force me to meet him.” . ‘ (‘

“ He is bold.” H ,

“ Yes, and means to do it.” .

“Then my plot ripens just in, time, for you,
will bleeztﬁfa in @111 hogr, and wlli‘e'n yon:l ,
c to s ves‘se on proven in gu ‘ .r
smggling, why it puts an ' end‘ to  of; -‘ ,
course; i ' ' "  ,
"Yes, and I’ll get ed at once, for! donor;
wish to meet him in a duel.” I ‘ *v ‘ _

“ What, not afraid of him?" , - ,

" Captain Vail, do not presume upon the {not}.

r
,.
.
i

 
_ ‘that I owe you money to hint that I fear any
man.“ /

 
w .. v ».» vdu-Iu mpg-m, - ',,1‘:f,'.‘"""'
, ._ ‘ . ., 4;, ,,. “a.
"‘l. ‘ “l - ‘2

l

Miss Kittredge, dressed as she always was for
dinner, as though she had a score of guests, met

“ Pardon me, but I took your own words that ‘ her nephew at the door and greeted him affec-

you did not wish to meet him.”
“ I said sohand I mean it; but I am anxious to
keep very quiet just now, after the blunder I

made at the Isles of Shoals, or I will be getting ,

v orders to leave my ship in command of my ﬁrst

. ofﬁcer and report on board of some small craft

1, for duty under some blockhead who may rank
r me.

“ A duel, in which I killed this man would
cause people to say I forced the affair upon him
to cover up my blunder and to seek revenge.

“ Do you understand?”

, “ I do, and you are right.

“I did not really feel that you feared him, I

 V for I knew you to be a dead shot and as good a
 awardsman as I am, and that is saying a great

eal.
 “ In truth, folks say you have never met your
‘5 ‘ superior with a blade and I have been anxious

to cross with you, for I pride myself upon my '

’skill as a swordsman.”

“ It will give me pleasure, some time,” was
the reply of Captain Spruel, with the air of a
man who knew his power and disregarded his
comrade’s asserted skill.

Then he added:

I “ Well, I must be off.”

But, as he spoke, a clerk ushered Lieutenant

Herbert Deering into the ofﬁce.

CHAPTER XXV.
THE HARBORAGE.

AMONG the old families in Salem there was
one that had only a remnant left, or rather one
who still remained in that pleasant town.

This one was Miss Jessie Kittredge, a charm-
ing lady, who was nearing her half a century of

ears. ~

 
ing generous that had won for her the gratitude

of the poor.

Miss Kittredge had been born an heiress, as
her mother and grandmother before her, and
she had is Just pride in her race.

, . r Why she had never married, beautiful as she

. certainly had been in her girlhood, and accom—

plished and rich, no one ever knew.

I ,, She had remained Miss Kittredge, however,
at her own sweet will, for scores of lovers had
she had.

After she had told off on the mile-posts of life
thirty-ﬁve years. Miss Kittredge considered her-
self acknowledged it in fact, an old maid.

Her father died and left her a large estate
and complete control of it, for she had been his
infanager in truthfor the past ten years of her
' i e. ‘

He had no other heirs, but left legacies to
variouskinspeople, who had scattered elsewhere,
and among them was a liberal sum to the son of
his other daughter, Herbert Deering.

' Herbert’s parents had died when he was a
[mere led, and for several years, until he became
- asoldier, he had been under the guardianship
of“ his grandfather, Colonel Kittredge, for the
old gentleman had served with distinction as an
0 car in the Revolution.
is Aunt Jessie had been like a mother to
him, and he loved her as such, and he was
acknowledged to be her heir, and thus Colonel
Kittredge had simply left him a legac , for the
cum: man was also well 03 from is inher-
, tance from his parents.
_ Harbors e, the home of Miss Kittredge, was
; a delightf abode.
- ~ " It was situated above the town, surrounded
with numerous acres of well-kept grounds, and
a , the mansion was of stone, and very roomy and
comfortable.
. . / Miss Kittredge lived well, and kept up a style
. that many of the good Salemites, with increas-
ing fortunes, sought to copy after; but she had
Egon born to her wealth, and it was natural to
. r.
, Her servants, and she kept over half a dozen
I v .of them, had almost been raised in the family.
r I zThe old butler, Jeni, was as digniﬁed as a
deacon, and as punctual as a school-teacher in
.‘ all hisduties. ‘
’, His wife was housekeeﬁr, and then there was
(a; the cook, the house-girl, iss Kittredge’s maid,
and the coachman. with a gardener and a man-
 of-all-work to do the chorus, so that Harbors e
V was _the plat» of Salem, though Ezra Vail song t
to rival its mistress in the style of his home and
surroundings.
. ’Miss Kittredge had just been summonedto
f dinner by Jem the butler, when alight vehicle,
13an by two spirited horses, dashed up to the

, oor. '

, The horses were foam and dust-covered, and

a mod to have been driven on along ourney.
'  servant leaped out, and then to owed a
young man in uniform.

_- lawns Lieutenant Herbert Deering.

 “ , drive around, and then get my in
to, my room, for. it is aunt‘s dining hour, and?
must not keep her waiting,” he said to his valet;
but just then a servant came to take the team,
and, while Herbert Deering greeted himin a
'ﬁendly way, Mack secured the traveling-bag
 master and entered the mansion. ,

 
I She was a handsome woman, a triﬂe haughty .
perhaps, yet with a kind heart and a way of be- ’ ’

r tionately.

f “ it is so good of you, Herbert, to give me

- this pleasant surprise; but hasten to your room

and make your toilet, for dinner was just an-

‘ nouuced.” ~.

Herbert dashed up the stairs like a boy and in
ten minutes came down in full dress uniform
and offered his arm to his aunt who was await-
ing him in the parlor, for Miss Kittredeg allowed
nothing to interfere with the etiquette she had
been brought up to. ,

“ Why Herbert, you wear a captain’s rank 1”
she cried in delighted amazement, as she gazed
at his designation of rank on his new uniform.

“ Yes, aunt, congratulate me, for I got my
company a week ago, but have been expecting
it, yet concluded to surprise you.

‘ It was given me because 1 put down that
mutiny in the barracks some months ago, and
saved the colonel’s life.”

“ Well, Captain Deering, I do congratulate
you from my heart.

“ You are young to hold such a rank, but you
have won each promotion, so deserve them.

“Now, What is all this I have been reading
about the colors presented to your regiment by
the Boston ladies, and the attack On your vessel
on the way to the city?”

They were seated at a table now, Herbert hav—
ing cordially shaken hands with the digniﬁed
Jem, and handed him a glass of brandy and
water as an appetizer, a thing he had done for
the colonel for twenty years.

Herbert told of the going to Boston and how he
had taken Government conveyances to Ports-
mouth and there caught the pretty schooner
W'inged Arrow.

“And Captain Spruel attacked her on suspi-
cion alone, as a smuggler l”

“ This was a grave error for an omcer to make,
Herbert.”

“ Grave indeed, aunt, but it will be smoothed
over.

“By the way, do you know Spruel?”

“ I have met him, and he was here to call,
and seemed a very leasant gentleman.”

“ Pleasant enoug , but he has some reason of
hatred against Mountjoy, and is silly enough to
let it get the best of his reason.”

“ I am glad that you have good judgment,
Her’bert—your very good health, Captain Deer-
iug.

“ Thank you, aunt, and to your bright eyes,”
and having set his glass down Herbert asked: .

“ Did on ever see Mountjoyl”

“ No, think not.”

“Did not a sailor check your horses when
Whiyp had lost control of them, in town, one
day ’

“ Yes, and saved my life, and Whip’s, I am

sure.

“ The Vidette was ﬁring a salute in the bar-
bor, they became frightened and would have
gone headlong over the wharf, had not a sailor
caught them at the risk of his life, but I could
geve; learn who he was, for I wished to reward

im.

“ Am glad you did not know, for it was
Mountjoy, aunt, and though skipper of acoast-
ing craft, he is a gentleman to the manner
born, only reduced in circumstances.

“ He did not tell me this, but his mate did,
and said the captain would not allow it to be
known.”

“He is modest indeed, but I must surely see
him to thank him.”

“ Yes, and you have to thank him'for saving
my life too, aunt,” and Herbert told the story
of his rescue at sea.

Miss Kittredge turned pale at the thought of
her nephew's danger, and said fervently:

“ God bless that brave man, Mark.”

“ So say I, aunt, and I came here to see him,
as well as to see you.

, “ I got back to the regiment, presented the
colors, and foxmd my captain awaiting me, so
get leave and drove down with my own team to

see you.

“ But I wished to see if something cannot be
done for Mount 'oy—mind {you, in a. delicate
way, for, as I to d you he. a gentlemen, and
med." I

“ Indeed, and he lives here?” ‘

‘ “ Yes he has a cottage on the harbor, and
calls it Iv Lodge—3’

“ Ah! know the place well, and the past
yearjt has been beautiﬂed so that I have fallen
in love with it and often drive by to get a
glimpse of it, while there is a most beautiful
young girl there.”

“ His wife, I ' guess. for he said she was under
twenty, though she has a little family of twins.”

“ Indeed! the dear creatures."

“The parents or the twins, aunt?”

“That‘s it, all ladies like twins. . 1

“ They seem to think they are intended as a
prize in life’s lottery, and the one who draws a
prize of the'kind is envied.” ’

“ For shame, Herbert.”

“ Forgive me, but I then ht so. 4

“ But it is strange you ave never heard of

he is ma

‘ i r.

 
the Mountjoys. aunt, for there is much talk re-
garding them.” \ r ' v ' /

 
‘m', .1 up was-.v-lu .

~  ’ Afplgr.’ “VF. " v.7 - ., ' I I r "
"””,',- "“~,-."‘i"-. »-'4" .'v .5,

'd’ "em

“ I never listen to, nor allow gossip, Herbert,”
said Miss Kittredge calmly.

“ Good for you, my dear aunt, I know that
you do not and am sorry that there are not
more like you, for we would all be happier for

i . a

" But Mountjoy has been under a shadow,
and 1 am sure without cause.

“He is no more a smuggler than I am; but
he has been ostracized here, he and his wife, and
I am sure that he has some secret foe who is at
the bottom of it all.”

“I shall take pleasure in calling upon Mrs.
Mountjoy, Herbert, and an thing that you deem
it best to do for Captain ountjtlig, you have
only to let me know,” and Miss ittrcdge left
her nephew alone at the table to smoke a cigar.

Then he joined his aunt in the parlor, but re-
tired early as he was fatigued, and it had been
decided that he would 0 down-town the next
morning and see Mark ountjoy, while his aunt
should call at Ivy Lodge.

 
CHAPTER XXVI.
A MEMORY or THE PAST.

TRUE to her resolve, the next morning, Miss
Kittred e ordered her carriage and drove down
to Ivy fodge, the cottage home of the Mount-
Joys.

Alma was in the garden among her ﬂowers,
and looking indeed like a beautiful young girl,
in her pretty blue dress and sun hat.

Her face was ﬂushed with her work, for she
was gathering a large bunch of ﬂowers, as was
her wont, to put in her husband’s cabin, for she
always sent him to sea with some such sweet
rememlxance of her. .

She saw the stylish carriage stop at her door
and wondered, and then she politely advanced
and met the lady whom she-saw alight from the
vehicle andenter her little gate.

Miss Kittredge, in her elegant attire, was
charmed at sight of the lovely young wife, but
was assured that it could not be Mrs. Mountjoy.

“ Good-morning, miss; is this, the home of
Captain Mark Mountjoy l” ~ ~
“ 13 is, madam, but my husband is in the town
now. ,. .‘

“ our husband? I could not believe that you
were Mrs. Mountjoy; but it is you whOm I have
called on, for i am Miss Kittredge, of The Ear-
borage, and the aunt of Captain Deeri‘ng.”

Alma had heard of the haughty lady of The
Harborage, and Mark had told her of Her bert
Bearing, and what a splendid fellow he was.

So Alma greeted Miss Kittredge in a way that
won that lady’s heart, and where she had ex.
pected to find a country lass, as it were, she dis-
covered in Alma one who had been a belie in
the brilliant society of New Orleans, and yet
accepted her position as a coaster’s wife with all
the grace in the worl .

So where Miss Kittredge had expected to
remain two minutes, she stayed two hours, fon—
dled the twins, looked at the ﬂowers, and
praised Alma’s housekeeping, which was per-
fect. ‘ V

As she was goin out to her carriage, accom-

anied by Alma, ark Mountjoy came home to
gis dinner, and was presented.

Miss Kittredge greeted him warmly, and ask-
ed then quickly:

Are Eon a relation of the Mountjoys of Vir-
ginia, aptaiu Mount 0y?” I . .

“ My father was a irginian Miss Kittredge,
and came North to Harvard to be educated, and
there meeting my mother, married, and entered
the ministry.” ,

“ Was your father then the Reverend Malcolm
Mountj y?” she asked, eagerly.

“ Yes, madam.”

“ I knew when he was a candidate for Holy

Orders. I knew him very well—yes, very well.

“ l was young then, a mere girl, but your fa-

ther was a dear friend of mine.”

She seemed'to have been thinking aloud,
rather than speaking to Mark, and both the
sailor and his wife 'saw tears come into her

es. .
yThey told of some sorrow of the past, and with

a blush, like a young girl, Miss Kittredge recol-
lected herself, and said:

“ But how time ﬂies, for I knew Mr. Mountjoy
before he was married. ' ,

“ We must be good friends, Captain Mounh
joy, and your wife must come often to see me.

“ Good-b ." ' r

‘The cone man was amazed to see her kiss
Aims, and shake hands warmly with the hand-
some young sailor. for his mistress was not
demonstrative in her friendships.

But it pleased Whip immensely, as he recog—
nized in the sailor the one who ad saved him

from bein dragged with his horses over the f
wharf. an with him the carriage containing
Miss Kittredge. '

“ I’m glad the missus has found you, sir, and

I wants to thank you, sir, indeed I do, forsaving ‘ ‘

us that day,” said Whip, earnestly. ,
Mark made some pleasant remark, and Miss

Kittredge drove away. m ,
“ Mai-k isn’t she lov i” said Alma.
“She , indeed, an new I recall havin 7- ‘

heard my mother speak of hen”, .
“‘Did she know her, tool”, ‘ . g

. ,J

 
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“ Yes though Miss Kittredge did not speak of
my mot or, you noticed.”

‘ Yes; and I noticed, too, the tears came into
her eyes when she spoke of your father.”

“ I saw them, and let me tell you, Alma, that
lady has a romance in her life.

“She met my father when he was a student
at Harvard, and she loved him desperately;
though she was not sixteen then.

“ He had just become engaged to my mother,
and this fact was not generally known where
he lived.

“Miss Kitti'edge was visiting at Cambridge,
and they were thrown together a great deal for
several months.

“ Then my fatherwent away—wentto tell my
mother the truth, that he had made a mistake,
that he had found out who it was he really
loved.

“ He arrived to ﬁnd her mother dead—killed
in an accident to the stage-coach—and her father
dying, and the latter begged that he would then
and there marry his daughter.

“ He yielded—he had not the heart to bring
more sorrow upon the orphan girl—and they
were married.

“ But he wrote to Miss Kittredge—her name
is Jessie, for I recall it now—telling her all, and
she responded that he had done what he should
do, and their lives divided.

“ Then my father studied for the ministry, and
to his dying day he made my mother a noble
husband; but‘ my mother knew all, long after
she was married, and never let my father know
that she did, but she told me.

“ And let me tell you, Alma, that I left With
the clergyman who has my father’s charge, some
money to place a monument over my parents’
graves. ’

“ He sent his plans to a stone-cutter, and was
told that he already had in charge a monument,
a magniﬁcent one, ordered for the graves of my
father and mother.

“ He said the lady who gave the order de-
clined to have her name given, but said she was
an old friend, and upon the plans I saw a part
of her name—it was ‘ tredge ’—and that is how
I know it was MissKittredge.

“ I ran down to see the monument, and it is a
grand one, and I wrote the clergyman to give
my money to the poor of my father’s parish;
but, my dear Alma, I came home to tell you
something that will distress you."

“ Ah Mark! more trouble?”

“ A duel, Alma, for I am to meet Captain
Fred Spruel at sunset this evening, on the
:gores of Naugus Head—my God! she has faint—

 
CEAP‘I‘ER XXVII.
WELL MET.

Tan arrangement for the duel at Naugus Head
occurred in this way.

When Captain Herbert Deering left The Har-
borage, to have a look at the town and drop'in
on Mark Monntjoy, he went to the shore to See
whether his vessel was in port or not, and if so
where anchored.

He did not observe, among the many vessels
that met his gaze, the well-known Winged Ar—
row and concluded that she was not at Salem,
so he went uptown to do some business when

,he met face to face the man he wanted to see.

“Ah, Monntjoy, glad to see you, for I’ve been
looking you up.”

Mark Mountjoy’s ﬂush of leasure told that he
was glad to sac Herbert eerlng, for he had
taken a great fancy to the young ofﬁcer, and his
greeting was most cordial.

“ I did- not anticipate seeing you so soon
again,” said Monntjoy.

“ Nor did I expect to get here so soon, but I
goat “tiny. promotion, and asked for leave and here

“ Have you heard an m r b t 168
of Shoals_aﬂair’l" y, 0 e a on that Is
, “ No, m" but I Wrote Captain Spruel a letter
he cannot fail to respond to.” '

“I saw him in Boston, for he came there to

see me and have me send in re of the af-
fair to I’orfrCaptain Hunnewyell. port

" I did so, and if he sees it he’ll wish to call me
out, for I spoke of his act as a blunder that did
not have the merit of an accident,’but was pre-
meditated, and .I gave you as good a send—off as
possible, reporting your noble risk of life to save
me from death.”
._ “ Oh, do not speak of that, for I am like a ﬁsh
in the water, and I knew Mate Manning’s cool
head would manage the schooner well and soon
pickﬁis up."od t d

ver no es in ear M ' -

look womedw , y ountJoy, but you

t: I am worried, sir, and I'll tell you wh .
wheiain apt no]: enough golmiss a good cargo

u go one, an sail to-ni t With

special freight for Boston, to return insignia 1:0
load for my regular sailing day, which carries
ms t is Voyage to Portland on the Kennebcc.
for I alternate in my voyages, taking, as you
know Portsmouth for one of my ports. '

‘ 0". 03mm}! Spruel is in , and must
have come here in answer to my ﬁtter, and if I
leave it will seem like running of! to avoid him,

* for he knows well my regular sailing day.

 
“ So far from it, I am determined to meet him,
to force him to meet me, if he objects, for the
insults he has heaped upon me, and it worries
me to feel, now that he is here, I must leave.”
Cellaptain Deering was silent a moment and then
5111 : ‘

“ I do not think Spruel cares to meet you,
Monntjoy.”

“ He claims that I am not his equal.”

" That I know; but that is no ground as you
are his equal in family, and only your position
is an humble one at present.

“ But he hesitates also as he knows he is in
hot water just now, after his Isles of Shoals
blunder. and he wishes to keep quiet for the
present.”

“But I shall not permit it, sir.”

“ You are right, and I uphold you in your
act, for I know just how you feel.

" May I ask who is to serve you in this at-
fair?”

“Do you know, Captain Deering, I have nota
friend on earth—”

“ Ah, Monntjoy, you forget Herbert Deer—
ing."

“ Pardon me, I did, for I believe you to be my
friend; but in business I know a few people, but
they are not my friends, and my wife and my—
self are all alone. ”

“ My aunt has gone to call on Mrs. Monntjoy
this morning.”

“ Ahl indeed, that is kind of her, for I know
what the position of your aunt is, Captain Deer—
ing; but she will find Mrs. Monntjoy a lady, for
her father was a wealthy Southern planter, and
Alma could have married splendidly, had she so
wished.” '

“ Well, Monntjoy, I must meet her, for I shall
call myself soon; but now let us get rid of this
infernal Spruel trouble.

“  you had thought of no one to befriend

on? ,‘
y “ My mate, Mabrey Manning, I shall have to
call on” '

“ Not so, for I will act as your friend.”

“ Ygul but you are an ofﬁcer of the service,
and— '

“ And so is Spruel; no, I'll second you, Mount-
joy, and I’ll do it at once, so you need worry no
IIIOI‘B.

“ Spruel is in port, either on board his vessel
or up at the Salem Inn, and I shall call on him
from you and force him to ask pardon, ﬁght, or
back down.

“ If he attempts the latter from his reasons
stated, then he shall have to meet me, for it will
be a reﬂection that I am the friend of a man who
is not a gentleman. .

“ Come, let us go to your vessel and talk it
over.”

This the two friends did, and people who knew
the gallant Captain Deermg, seemed a little sur-
prised to see him walking arm and arm With a
coaster skipper.

He was frequently stopped by the prominent
citizens of the place, whom they met on the way
to the wharf.

The Win Arrow lay against the dock,
loading the cm that were to be taken to Bos-
ton for the goods to he, sent for, and Mark led
the way into the cabin, got out -of the locker a
decanter of brandy and glasses, and the two sat
down together for a talk.

“ Now, Monntjoy, let me understand just your
wishes in this matter," said Herbert Deering.

“ You seem to feel no doubt but that I am the
hopfst man I claim to be,” said Mark with a
sin e. '

“ f course I do, I could take oath on it, for
no wicked man ever shielded an evil conscience
under your face,” was the frank response.

“ Thank you, sir; but you wish to know my
intentions?” ,

“Yes, fully.”

“ If you were in my position, would you put

up with an insult simply because you were a.

poor coaster i" ,

“I would not, all things being equal, and I
mean by that if I were well born, as you are. I
certainly should defend my honor, whereas if 1
were an humble skipper, I might not dare do so,
or even think -of demanding justice from an
ofﬁcer of the Government l”

“ You feel as I do, Deering, and as you have
kindly consented to serve as m friend. I will
ask you to go to Captain Sprus with a chal-
lenge from me." , a

“ And he has the choice of weapons?”

"‘ Of course.” '

r “ I saw you wield a blade, and you are a
marvel with a weapon of that kind: but suppose
he selects pistols?” \.

“ It is a matter of perfect indiﬂerence to me,”
was the cool reply. ‘

“Very well, will at once seek‘him, and as
youbmust sail this afternoon the sooner the bet-

ter. V

‘- “ And as I sail for Boston and round Naugus
Beach-you might suggest there, abOut sunset,
if it s tshis convenience, for the wind is fair for

us tosoon run there; but of course to name the
place is his perogative also.” . . I
“Yes, but Naugus Head would be the spot,”
and tanminutes after Captain Herbert Dealing
entered the private ofﬁce of Ezra Vail and Bur-
prised that gentleman and Fred Spruel together K

, .

e .
‘ He knew that Mark Monntjoy had sent him a

 
hs has been seen, and to the evident confusion _ ,
of both, who knew the army ofﬁcer as the ;;
friend of Mark Monntjoy. ‘

CHAPTER XXVIII.
ran ACCEPTANCE. ,

CAPTAIN EZRA VAIL had met the young ~ ‘ rl
army ofﬁcer, so knew him when he was an— ,;
nouuced at his ofﬁce door by a clerk. I

That he was surprised to see him enter goes ,
without saying, as he had no business with him, . .l
to occasion a visit, and as for Captain Spruel I
he was .simply more than amazed. n;

He had no idea of the presence of Herbert , ,
Deering in Salem, and intuitively he seemed to . "“ i
feel that his coming was on his account. 9‘

Captain Vail arose politely, for he was ever
courtly in manner and so prided himself, and he
said with an air of cordiality:

“ Lieutenant Deering, I am glad to meet you
again—you are acquainted With Captain Spruel
of the navy?”

This was an assertion rather than a question,
and Captain Deering used.

“ Yes, I have met aptain Spruel, and it was
because I was told I would ﬁnd him here, that I
intruded upon you. Captain Vail.”

“ No intrusion, sir, but an honor.

“ Be scuted, please.” '

“ Thank you, but I would ask if I could
see Captain Spruel on a matter of import-
ance."

“ Certainly, make yoursslf at home in my of-
ﬂce, and—"

“ Pray, do not leave, Captain Vail—nay, I
urge it, for any business Lieutenant Deering
may have with me cannot be of a private na-
ture.”

“ It is of a personal nature, sir, for I come
from my friend, Captain Monntjoy, so you know
best as to whether Ivshall speak out before Cap-
tain Vail." ‘ ' »
' Ezra Vail had hesitated, for he did not care to
leave, and was anxious to know why Herbert g
Deering had sought the naval officer. '

At the mention of his “ friend, Captain
Miountjoy,” Captain Spruel had slightly sfart- 4 ‘

 
direct challenge, and that he should have ob-
tained the services of a man like Herbert Deerin
as his second was an intense surprise to him, an
moreover it was a deep regret. ' .

He knew well the inﬂuence of young Deering
and his family, and that he was the main man
to hurt him, if so be pleased, by his report of
his mistaken attack on the Willqu Arrow. ‘ ';

That he was, Monntjoy‘s friend was proof V ,
positive that e was against him, he thought,
and he said co dly: , ‘ I

“ I desire you to speak before my.friend, Cap-
tain Vail, sir, thong I am at a loss to know
how a gentleman holding the high rankof a ‘
lieutenant of artillery can come as the friend
of a common coaster captain." . ‘ '

“ My dear sir, permit meta say, for your in-
creased surprise, that a late promotion makes" 1.
me hold a. still higher rank, that of captain, of
artillery, and were I‘ colonel I would still be
proud to serve my bravo friend, Mark Manna,
joy, while I will not permit any criticism ,of _
my acts from Lieutenant Frederick Spruel, of”
the navy.”, \ » * .

This was carrying the war into Africa, so to
speak, with a ‘vengeauce. for it stamped 'his
friendship for Monntjoy, gave him a hint that ,
he was not a lieutenant, and that he, Sprué , 
was in reality, though acting captain, an ‘
more, that he would not permit himself to be:
under criticism for befriending any one when he‘ .
chose to. » . x ' »

Fred Spruel colored, and Captain Vail saw ..
that the youn army ofﬁcer was no ordinarv,
man to deal wi , and he sighted breakers ahea
he thought. . , _ ,

‘ I meant not to criticise Captain Deering'sv
acts. for he is free to do as he deems best, but I
confess my surprise certainly that he rean
one whom I can only regard in the light. of ‘a
seaman.” ,

“ He may so seem to Captain Spruel, but not,
bein in the navy, as an American citizen andza
gent eman, Captain Monntjoy can command
recogition, and as his representative here, i
will given him.” ,  .

This was as a dare to Spruel that to refuse to
Escognlze Mark Monntjoy was to quarrel withi-

1m. - * ‘ r ‘
Ca tain Spruel hit his lips in a vexed way 
said nahaughty tone: , . ‘ ' A, ~

“ May I ask the object of this Visit, sir?” i

“ You desire me to speak before/Captain
Vail?” ‘

“.I do. sir.” , - ‘ ‘ ,,

“ Very well, sir. I come from my if 116.!
Captain Mark Monntjoy, of the mar ant
marine service, to any: that he has been insulted .
by Captain Spruel before the. world. and bodes.
mands an apology for his words to him and so. 
cnsqtions against him of a false character.” I. H
“ He refers to my charging him with lawless-T
nasal" ’ . ‘ " ' ~ ’"

“He does, sir.” . r g . ,l -

“ He expects ms torch-act my charge that V

\

,1

is a smug lei-.1" » '
“ He deﬁnands‘it, sir.”

  
16

f  '  CIJ'omedv'aler.

 
“ Butif I believe that he is a smuggler?"

“ You do not in your heart believe so, sir, I feel
assured, and I for one can pronounce your
char 9 against Captain Mountjoy a false one.”

“ on have proof, sir, of your words?"

“ I have the proof of the word of my friend,
and I cannot doubt the honor of such a man."

“ Anil I believe I know, almost, that Mark
Muuiitjoy is leading an outlaw’s life.”

“ Bold words, sir, but you can give no proof, .

and your mistake at the Isles of Shoals should
make you wary of how you take a thing for
granted.”
Fred Spruel’s face again ﬂushed with anger
 and he seemed to find it hard to subdue his
passion; but with an effort he succeeded and
asked:
“ May I ask if Captain Deoring made a report
of the affair he ﬂings in my face?”

“ I did, air.”
.2 “And forwarded it to Commandant Hunne—
' 1 well?”
‘. “ I did, sir, within the hour after I last saw
you.”

i. “ I suppose it was in praise of the coaster?”
.V “ It was a truthful report, Captain Spruel,
“ and one which did justice to my gallant friend,
to whom Iowa in life.
2"; “ But I came ere to seek no quarrel with
a you, sir, but to ask an apology from you to my
1;; . friend."
j , “ And if I refusal”
', “Then I shall demand that you give him the
24. satisfaction due from you to a gentleman whom
you have traduced.”
‘j; . “ A gentleman?” sneered Fred S ruel.
The eyes of Herbert Deering ashed at this,
and he said in a voice of deadly earnestness:
J “ I hope Captain Spruel does not imply by his
"1‘ . sneer that I would represent one who was not a
" ’ gentleman?” '
' Here Captain Vail spoke up with: '
“ No, no, Captain Deering, I think you mis-
understood Captain Spruelf”
“ Your position is too well known, sir, for

 
 I me to imply augnt against you that was wrong;
fix but I decline to apologize to your friend.”

v ,. “8) be it; sir, in his name I demand a meet-
. ing With him.”

“ Suppose I refuse?" -

“ I will then deem him right, sir, in brand-
ing ones a coward," was the frank response
of erbert Deering, and it brought the hot
blood to Fred Spruel’s face in a. torrent.

“ Do you mean to impute, sir—”

“I impute nothing now, sir; but L await
your refusal or acceptance of the challenge I
bear.” ‘

“ I acce t, sir.”

“ May ask you to name your friend 3”

“ Vail, you will serve me in this trouble
which you have heard the purport of l”

“ Certainly, Captain Spruel, but I would
know something as to your wishes in regard
to weapons, time and place.”

“ It is a matter of perfect indifference to
me,so say to-day, anywhere you please, and
any wen us.”

‘ As 1; t leaves choice with us, sir, I will
name sunset to-day, Naugus Head as the place,
for my friend sails for Boston this afternoon,
Spiel] Swords, with pistols to fall back on if swords
“ That is satisfactory, perfectly so.” said
Captain Spruel quickly, checkin Ezra Vail in
what he would have said. an with a bow
Herbert Deeriug left ‘the ofﬁce, while as soon
as his back was turned the merchant cried ex-
citedly:

“In Heaven’s name, Spruel, what do you
mean when all is arranged to catch Mountjoy
in our trap?

“ You are a fool to risk your life, and—”

“I know what I am about, Captain Vail,
and what I do you must helpme in.”

“ I am at your service, Bpruel,” was the
reply of the merchant who was assured that
Captain Spruel had some plot on hand toget
the better of his enemy the young coaster.

 
CHAPTER XXIX.
-‘ rim CAPTAIN HAS A PLAN.

. CAPTAIN HERBERT DEEnme went from the
‘oﬁlce of Messrs. Vail 86 Company back to the
' Winged Arrow; but he found that Mark Mount-
, y had gone home to dinner, so he went up to
w‘ he Harburage to get lunch for the fashionable
hour for dining with Miss Jessie Kittredge was
at six’ o’dock and she never broke her rule.

Mis~ Kittredge returned home a short while

before her nephew, and with more enthusiasm
' than she was wont toshow, said:

“Herbert, I am charmed with your new
friends, and agree with you that they are as
elegant in manner as one could wish, and any-
anocan see that the were well-born and ac-

’ customer! to the ver 1:.”

“Iain glad you ‘ 6 them, aunt, and I feel
that under ﬂour protection they will not be
snubbed as ey have been, and for which I am
surethey have to thank some secret foe:but

- ’Mountjoy has boldly taken a step to show that
. he cannot be i suited with impunity." ‘
~ “And what thatl”

 
,l‘

i

“ He challenged Captain Spruel, of the Videttc,
to meet him.”

Miss Kittredge looked surprised.

“ Has he not been rash?”

“No, Aunt Jessie, he thinks there is malice,
rather than duty in Spruel’s acts toward him,
and upon the deck of his own vessel the captain
took particular pains to insult Mountjoy, and
was then told he should be held responsible.

“ Montjoy gave him a chance to retract, when
he saw that he was wrong, but Spruel was
stubborn and refused, so be challenged him."

“ And you are interested ?"

“ Yes, aunt, I forced my service upon Mount—
joy, who was reluctant to accept them, and was
to have his mate as his second: but I wished
him ’ to have fair play, so offered to serve
him. ’

“ I am sorry this affair cannot be arranged
ﬁaccfully, Herbert, but am glad as Captain

ountjoy has shown the spirit to resent Cup-
tain Spruel‘s insult, he will be so well cared for
as to have you for his second, for I have heard
of your skill in such matters and your perfect
knowledge of the code duello.*

“ W hen does it take place?”

Miss Kittredge took the affair as a matter of
course, and so again asked:

“ What weapons, and where will it be?”

“ I am not betraying professional secret, aunt
in tellin you, so will say that it will be at
Naugus sad at sunset to-day, and I must be
off. for I have to see Mountjoy and arrange all
satisfactorily.”

Soon after Herbert Deering left the mansion
and made his way to the Winged Arrow again.

He found Mark still absent, so left a note for
him should he miss him and went on to Ivy
Lodge.

He met Mark just leaving his home and bear-
1ilng a suspicious-looking box and bundle with

lm.

Alma had been terribly shocked when she
heard that Mark was to fight a duel, but it was
at the fear that he might be wounded or killed,
rather than the thought of dueling, for she came
from a. part of the country where the practice
was an every-day affair, and both her father
and brother had been engaged in affairs of
honor more than once.

“ Mark. I am proud of on for resenting the
insult and showing that 0 car that you are not‘
to be put down with impunity, humble though
the position you bold; but oh Mark what if
you should be wounded, or killed?" she asked,
when her husband had told her that Captain
Deering had gone to see Captain Spruel and
arrange a meeting at Naugus Head for that
day at sunset.

“ I am, not a bad hand with the sword, Alina,
and am also a good shot, so do not feel any
dread,”.was the answer, and he enterei into a
conversation regarding his belongings as coolly
as possible with his wife and she, like the brave
woman she was, behave nobly. _

‘ At last he said that he must get his weapons
in trim, and he got out his pistol-box and put
the pretty pair of weapons in perfect condition.

Then he looked to his swords, and wrap ing
them up. kissed' his little twin children g -by,
and Alma, with a brave face, but eyes ﬁlled
with tears, followed him to the gate.

There as he lingered a. moment he saw Ca -
tam Herbert coming, so awaited his approac .

“Ah, captain, I am glad to see you, and
happy to present you to my wife.

“ hope I have not caused you any incon~
venience by being away from my vessel i” 3
“No, indeed and I am glad to have found
you here, for I have wished to meet Mrs. Mount-
joy,” and the oﬁicer warmly grasped the hand
of the beautiful young wife with evident sur-
prise at her beauty in spite of, what his aunt had
told him of Alina.

“But for your noble husband here, my dear
madam, I would never have hurl the pleasure of
meetiniyou, for he saved me from death at the
risk of is own life.

“?”You met my aunt this morning, she told
me -

“ Yes 'she was so kind as to honor me with a
call, and I thank her and you also for it, Cap-
tainDee ' ; but you are to be my husband’s
second in t is affair?" and Alma’s eyes again
ﬁlled with tears.

“ You know of it. then?”

“Oh, yes, she is a. brave little woman, and I
told her all, and arranged my affairs in case it
goes against me," was the cool reply of Mount-

JOY- .

“ You are indeed a brave womnn and have a
husband worth «of you; but, as 1 can speak be-
fore you I wil say to your husband that the
meeting is settled upon for Naugus Head about
sunset, with swords as,weapons, and pistols if
they fail.”

“ They must not fail,” was the laconic answer
of Mountjoy, and then he'askad: '
ti “ 1?)”id he seem disinclined to give me satisfac-

on

‘”‘I thought so; but he saw no way of evading

“ Who is his second?"

 
I In these days dueling was winked at if not‘ allow-
ed.aud duels werevof frequent oocurrence.-Amon.

,’ ‘ V, ‘/..

 
“ Captain Ezra Vail.”

“ Alli l have heard they are great friends;
but on went by my Schooner?”

“ es, and she will be ready, I think, on
time.”

“ She must be—-ohl there goes a boat out to
the Vidette now, so I must go, Alma.”

She threw her arms about his neck, and then
said in a low tone to Captain Deering:

“ I feel that he is safe in your hands.”

Then she turned, as though not daring to trust

‘ herself further, and walked rapidly back toward

the cottage.

“ She is a dear little woman,” muttered Mark,
as though to himself, and Captain Deeriiig re-
sponded:

“She is, indeed, and you have a treasure in
such a wife, and let me say here, Mountjoy, to
remove any anxiety from your mind, that
should harm befall you, which, however, I have
no fear of, your wife shall be as my sister, and
yournchildren shall be well cared for I promise

ou.

“ God bless you,” came fervently from the
sailor‘s lips, and as if to avoid thanks, Captain
Deering went on:

“Now I have heard that Captain Spruel is
famous as a shot and swordsman, and so you
must watch him as you would a hawk."

“I’ll be careful,” was the modest reply, and
the two friends came to where there was a view
of the harbor, and the Vidette was visible stand-
ing out toward the sea and spreading all of her
canvas as she went along.

“ It seems strange he should set all sail to run
so short a distance,” Mark Mountjoy remarked,
and they walked ra idly on to the schooner, and
the mate said that aptain Ezra Vail was in the
cabin waiting to see them.

 
CHAPTER XXX.
STRATEGY.

AFTER his acceptance of the challenge of
Mark Mounth , Fred Spruel left the ofﬁce of
Ezra. Vail an went hastily on board of his
vessel.

There he entered the cabin and went over his
desk as though hunting for some document.

At last he came upon an ofﬁcial-looking docu-
ment, and after examining it carefully, said: ,

“ This willserve my pu ose, for it has all the
ap rance of having just een received."

9 took out some wax and a seal and sealing
the paper wrapped it up in an outer cover an
addressed it to: .

“ CAPTAIN EZRA VAIL.”

Along with this he sent a note which read as
follows:

“MY DEAR Van:—

“ I have no desire to face Moun oy in a. duel when
his case will so soon be settled an be proven to be a.
smuggler. and I accepted his challenge as I told you
for a purpose. ~

“ Herewith I send you an omcial document, sealed
and addressed to me, and. which must purport to
come from Portsmouth, being orders to go at once
to sea on s ecial duty.

“ Send t is out to me by messenger, and I will
then send a note to you asking dyou to come aboard,
tell on I am or"ere to see. an ask you to explain
to ountjoy and Deerlnﬁ'my exact position, and so
will hold myself at the service on another occa-
sion.

“ Of course with Mountjoy's guilt proven that oc-
casion will not come.

“ I will explain more ‘wyhep I see you aboard ship.

‘ o

SPRUEL.
" Destroy this note.”

A midshipmnn was then sent ashore with the

pars, and he found Captain Vail in his ofﬁce,
Ended him the document and departed, saying
that there was no respo "

use. .
“The sly fox,” said Ezra Vail,'wlien he had
read the note, and he took up the “orders”  .

glanced at the sealed package.

u It looks genuine,” and 50 saying he  V

for a messenger and said:

“ Go out to the Vidette with this ofﬁcial pa r, ‘

which has arrived by special messenger for up-
tain Spruel, and ask if there is anything regard-
ing the sailing of the Vidette today.”

The clerk took the package and departed, and
in less than an hour he returned with the re~
quest from Captain Spruel for Ca tain Vail to
‘ come at once on board, as the idette must
sail within half an hour.” '

This Ezra. Vail did, and he found the cutter
preparing to go to see. when he stepped on deck.

Fred Sprue awaited him in the cabin and

said:

“ Well, my plan works well. so I’ll go to sea
and lay in the oﬂng until the Winged Arrow!
comes out and is to be caught in the act of
smuggling.” , '
“Yes, and I will see Destizng and Mountjoy.”
“I ass they’ll unders n that my omcial
duty 3 paramount to my Personal aﬂ'airs.”

“I guess so; but about! they not be I am

read to represent you with Mountjoy.”

“ think there will be no danger of that, but
I thank you.” r .

The friends now parted, Ezra Vail going
ashore while the Vi
headed seaward under full sail.

Captain Vail then made. his way to the

Winged Arrow, and expressing a determination ' ,
to await the coming of Mountioynndhilsecond, »

, s

ette got up anchor and ‘

. fif“


m. -..m—ww—m-<w.u..m« “may-

 
._. l

 t. J

v

s.- -.—-,-n- t... Wm“ . ,.

hm» “on. “I... «430‘ 

 
j";

x  -.,.._‘,~

 
(a, Captain Vail arose and took his leave, mut-

 
, of the Winged Arrow as she sped seaward into

after, so as to unload, andload or his
l i

‘; ,;' ' I :1 ..,,.

 we...

_.. ,H. x: '-

 
Mate Manning invited him into the pretty cabin l
of the schooner, and there the army officer and ’
skip or found him.

“ y dear Captain Deering, lam here on an ‘
important mission, and I may say an embar-
rassing (‘l'l‘ElIl.l," he sold.

Captain Deel'lllg said in response:

“ My friend Captain Mountjoy,
Vail.”

Both bowed as though they had never met be-
fore, the skipper very coldly, and the army of-
ﬁcer continued:

“ Now, sir, I will hear what your unpleasant
mission is?"

" It is unpleasant. as I have to beg indulgence
for Captain Sprucl.”

“ Indeed! has he decided not to meet my
friend i”

“ Oh no, sir, but he has been ordered away,
1’0}~ a special messenger came from Portsmouth
With important dispatches for him, and he sent
for me to come at once on board.”

“ Anrl so he has run oil and left you to take
his placcl ’

The face of Ezra Vnil ﬂushed at this, and he
saw that the army oflicer was neither friendly
toward himself or his principal.

“ He has been ordered away, sir, and in going
has done his duty, for it is his Government who
has the prior claim upon him, and he dared not
delay the few hours until sunset.

“Under such circumstances, Captain Spruel
has done right, Deering, so we must acce t
ther situation,” Mark Mountjoy very seriou y
pu. in.

“ Certainly, for as a soldier I can understand
that his duty has the ﬁrst claim, so, Captain
val] we accept your explanation for your
friend and would know your pleasure for the
future.”

,“ It is to have the duel postponed until the re-

turn of Captain Spruel, and I will notify you in
ample time.”
_ “ That is satisfactory, sir, " and Herbert Deer-
mg bowed as though the interview was at an
end, and yet his manner was most courteous
though cold.

Captain -

itering to himself as he returned to his ofﬁce:

“ Mountjoy has certainly made a magniﬁcent
Looking man and I well remember his pluck as a

0y.

“ But he won from me the love that Lola
La Salle would have given me and I shall never
forgive him. "’

“ But for him, curse him, she would have now
been my wife, instead of being wedded to that
old miser Peter Rutledge.

' “ Well, i have arranged it well, for he is sail-
ing With a cargo for me and little dreams that I
am at the bottom of all his troubles.

“ When they meet Spruel will kill- him and
that Will end it, and I will have roven myself
such a good friend to his beautifu widow that I
think I shall have no diﬂiculty in winnin her in
time, and, egad, she's as lovely as is Lo , and
that old.1 miser will never die, I am sure, so I can

er.

_“ No, I’ll compromise on Mountjoy’s lovely
Widow,” and Ezra Vail chuckled over his future

p ans.

“ Well, Meek, we can do no more for the
present; but I think Spruel will soon return
and Your Voyage will last but aweek at fur-
thest, and I’ll be at The Harborage some time
longer, so command me.”

“ Will you kindly send word to my wife that
the aﬁair is off for the present, my good friend,
for it Will relieve her anxiety!”

“ I Will go by myself on my way back to The
Harborage; but you will be away soon I sup-

.‘Mt once, for the boxes are on board- ood-
byﬁ' and. the two friends parted. Malllltjg 3*
once setti sail, while Herbert Deering walked
rapidly to vy Lodge and made known to Alma
the turn in the affairs of her husband. '

And together they stood on the little porch
and wave .farewell to the tall form on the deck

a snare set for her.

CHAPTER xxxr.
_ A cam IN DISTRESS. '
THE Vidette went out of the harbor of Salem
under full sail and after rounding Nangus Head,
shaped her course fordnggll Island.
unhing to seawar o t is island pped
anchor, furled her sails, sent down hggetggfnasts
and a peered to be lying in wait and not desir-
one 0 being seen by any passing vessel. for even
at faikbnpt a light was set on board. '
us a oresunsett emanat th 1'
p0}:th to Captain Spruel: . 9 onto!) 
sail $03331?“ {loop with an immense spread of
a o
Haébor'” 5 ng the coast south of Marblehead
“ Ay. ay that’s the aft”
whiz-[ills Chiptiin Spg-uﬁil gm 
en ar noes e '
v¥gmvé9yg$ 2am upon the sea and still the
e in now want out of Salem Harbor
under full sail for Mark M
t. g... back with. a. -°‘"'”°Y I:‘::.“.§§2

three

 
Mark stood on the deck and was glad to see
that Herbert Deering had already reached his
home and made known to Alma that the duel
would not come off that day at least.

He waved to them and then bent his every
energy to getting all of the speed out of the
Arrow that was possible.

It was just sunset when be rounded Naugus
Head, and shaped his course for Boston.

The wind was blowing fresh, but the sea was
calm, and the Winged Arrow went along like
a deer.

About nine o’clock he was called to the deck
by the cry from Mate Manning:

“ Sail ho l”

“ Whereaway, Manning?”

“ She is standing across our course from sea-
ward, sir, as though making for Marblehead,
but sails very slow.”

“ I see her, and she is a sloop, but sails as
thOngh water-logged,” and Mark bent his glass
upon her.

“ Ahl she signals, so head for her.”

“ Yes, and she signals as though most anxious
for our coming,” remarked the mate, and the
schooner went ﬂying along toward the sloop.

In half an hour she was within bail, and a
man on board, after waving a red lantern thrice
around his head, as though to attract attention,
hailed:

“ Ahoy the schooner l”

“ Ho, the brig l” responded Mark.

, “ We are in distress, our vessel has sprung a,

leak and will not hold up half an hour.”

“ Ay, ay, I’ll send a boat aboard.”

“ Can you not come alongside, for we have a.
valuable car 0 which we wish to save; but you
must be quic about it.”

“ Ay, ay, I’ll run alongside, but keep your
man at your pumps the while.”

A few moments after, the schooner under
shortened sail glided up to the little sloop which
had settled low in the u ater.

Half a dozen men were on board, and one who
appeared to be skipper. said: 'v

‘ We strained her carrying sail to-reach port,
and she’ll not hold up lanai

"ﬁlm you not reach arblehead and save
her -

“ No indeed, sir; but please let me show your
men the cargo while mine keep the pumps

sari” .
ll right," and the two creWs sprung to
work with a will.

“ Where are you bound?” asked Mark of the

skipper. . .
‘ 0 Boston, sir, and my cargo is in small
packa es, and of considerable value.” ‘

Mar was too busy helping a seaman in distress
to ask more questions, and in less than an hour’s
time the cargo was transferred from the sloop to
the schooner and the men called from the pumps.

They came with a rush and reported the sloop
sinking, so that the lines were cast OE and the
schooner swung away, while the captain of the
craft said:

“ As it is calm, sir, I will keep in my boat near
her, for she might not go down, and you will
gleaése deliver my cargo to Ketchum & Co. in

as on. r

“ If the sloop goes down. we can head for
Marblehead and make it in a few hours, for the
tide is than ng in 'and my boat has a sail.”

“ As you deem best, sir; but [think you take
a risk.”

“ I do not wish to lose the sloop, and she
seems, not to have settled any more.”

Mark thought, also, that the sloop mi ht be
saved, if the crew recovered from their right,
and so urged no more, but gave ordersto et the
schooner on her course once more, wh la the
sloop's boat returned to the sinking craft.

As the schooner swung round on her way the
lookout cried:

“ Sail, ho!”

‘ “Whereawayl‘"_

“ Dead astern, sir, and she has crept up on us
while we were he] ing the sloop.”

“ Ay, ay.’ I see er, and if I. am not mistaken
it is the Vidette, so she will tow the sloop into
Marblehead if she does not sink,” and MouutJoy
turned his gaze upon the sinkiugocraft.

The crew from the boat had arded her, and
soil was at once set.

Then the Vidette was seen to run down to-
ward her and slacken speed, as though hailing,
and a boat was launched and pulled toward the

5100 . .

Apfew minutes after, the Vidette came on,
spreading more sail as she did so, and soon from
her bows burst a red glare‘and the deep bOOm of

. a gun broke the stillness of the sea.

“What does he mean now?” said Mountjoy,
as a solid shot ﬂew over his vessel.
“ Will you come to, sirl” _
“Certainly, Manning, for he did not ﬁre at
me this time with his first shot. ‘
“ He doubtless wishes to send some word into
1’

The schooner was justgoing about when a
second gun was ﬁred from theJV‘idette, which
was rushing along under full sail. r ~

As she came near, it was seen that she was
ready for action, for her man were at their

us. a -
guMai-k Mountjoy calmly awaited her approach,

utterly.
.believe,‘it is the actor Captain Spruei to w

 
and coming near, the hall came in a deep, an
gry voice:

“Ho, the schooner! Is that the Winged Ar-
row?”

“ Ay, ey, sir, from Salem, and bound to Bos-

   
- l

“What craft was that you were just lying
alongside of?” '

Mark Mountjoy recognized the voice of Cap- -
tnin Spruel, and replied somewhat hotly:

“You should know, Captain Sprue , having
just left her yourself.”

“ Hal you carry a high hand, Skipper Mount-
joy, in defying the law, but I thin you have
gone too far to-night.

“ I shall board you, sir." ,

“Ay, ay, sir, you are welcome, as I cannot
prevent thi your third indignity against me.”

No reply came from on board the schooner,
but a boat was lowered, and, full of armed men,
pulled for the sloop.

As Captain Spruel sprung on deck sword in
hand, he was confronted by Mark Monntjoy,
who said sternly:

“ Well, sir, what means this third outrage up-
on me; please state, as I am anxious to continue
on my course?”

“ No doubt, Skipper Mounth , as you have
not had time to hide the smuggled goods you,
took from yonder outlaw craft—nay, you need
not ﬂy into a rage, for I have the craft‘s crew
prisoners, and arrest you and all on board your
schooner also as lawbreekers and outlaws.”

Then turning to an ofﬁcer he continued:

“ Put this man and his crew in irons.”_ 1

CHAPTER XXXII. ,
CAUGHT IN THE ACT

FOB. an instant, after the words of Captain
Spruel, Mark Mountjoy a peered as thou h he
would spring 11 n the 0 car, in spite o the
force at is bac . ,

But he was unarmed. and not as before had.
his vessel the guns and support of Herbert Deer-
ing, and he saw the madness of any resistance,
for there lay the Vidette, her men at quarters,
not a cable’s length from the Win ed Arrow.

Then too he knew, if Captain ruel believ-
ed what he said, he was but doing is duty.

If the crew of the 3100 were really smugglers
he had taken on boar his vessel goods that‘
were contraband, and he Certainly was in an un-
enviable tuation. ‘

That Captain Spruel was glad to have caught
him in an unfortunate situation to say the least,
there was no doubt in the mind of Mark Mount-
joy. for the looks of the naval ofﬁcer plainly re- »
Vealed as much.

“ Send this man on board my vowel, Lieuten-
ant Chapin, and conﬁne him in leasant quar- g

 
tors, but the crew leave on been the schooner

and conﬁne invthe hold.” -
“ Ay, ay, sir.” _ - ‘
“ Then you take charge of the prize With a ,-

dozen men and put back for Salem.

“ Yes, captain,” answered the handsome young
junior lieutenant of the Vidette, and the orders"
were quickly obeyed.

The sinking sloop meanwhile had not sonata.
the bottom, as it was believed she would. for up-
on going on rd at the command of bishop-
thin to take charge of her ass prize Midshipe,
man Ben Thomas had quickly checked the leak
and gotten the water out of her. , '

So the three vessels headed for Salem, the
Winged Arrow leading, the sloop in her wake
and the Vidette following astern of her $12“

It was dawn when the three entered lem‘
Harbor, and as they had a beat to windward ,
the sue was well up when they dropped anchor .
off the Government wharf.  ,

Crowds of people gathered to see the Vidette v
bringing in a strange sloop and the well-known
Winged Arrow as prizes, for no one could un-
derstand it. , e

Alma saw it too and her heart sunk within .'
her at seeing her husband in more trouble. 3 *

Throwing on her bonnet and shawl she: has: r
toned to t e dock and'came full upon Captain .1;
Spruel who fairly started as he saw' her pretty
face. with surprised admiration.  ’

“Pardon sir. but you are a Government ,
ofﬁcer I believe?”

b :1 am, lady,” and he politely raised his
a . ' . . . .
“ I have come to see why the Winged 
has returned as a prize for it is my husband’s
vessel andl wish to see im.” 

“ Y’our husband? ' ,

" ls Mark Mounth your husbandﬂapked
Fred Sprucl with won er in look and tone.

“ He is. sir.” ‘ ’ x .-

“ My dear madam, I am sorry for you them",

“ And why i” « 

 
“ ause,
ypug‘t’husband ‘in the act of smuggling
D . > _

§It is/false, sir. false! Pardon me I did not" . I.
say that ,ou spoke falsely. but thatthe charge
that he s ,a. smuggler ‘ false J “9:1,

h
* i

I re et'to tell you that I caught}

cuse him, for he hates my husband for
reaso

”  :-
n. -‘ .
“ Madam, I am Captain Spruel.”

,., q".

. l A , V, . .. . l I“ H. may

.v

“ Yaw! than into your face I ﬂing the
charge of falsehood, when you say that my
husl’i'and is a smuggler, or would do one illegal
act.

The eyes of Alma ﬂashed and she looked
grandly beautiful, as she faced the oﬂlcer,
who said in a. low voice:

“ My dear madam, I had no cause tohate
your husband, but acting under certain infor-
mation given me, I suppossd he was leading a
lawless life.

“ So I pursued him, but found no roof.

v “ I was so unfortunate a secon time as to
~ make an attack upon his vessel,feeh'ng sure he
was uilty, and again got no proof.

“ o-night I caught him in the act, so ar-
rested him and his crew and seized his vessel.”

, l “ You did not catch my husband doing aught
L ' that was wrong,” said Alma, with ﬁrmness,
«2 then h her heart sunk within her, for she re-
 ' called that Mark had once served under the
n _ ’ pirate ﬂag, and of late he had seemed to be un-
vg» usually prosperous.
* Then too there was his trip to Boston, be-
. tween his regular voyages, and his seemingly
getlirmined resolve to meet Captain Spruel in a
no

It caused her to feel sick at heart indeed; but
that there was a doubt in her mind against her
husband no one should see, so she asked calmly:

“ May I see Captain Mountjoy, sir?”

“I regret to refuse you, madam, but no one
must be allowed to see him.

“ I am sorry, very sorry, but I cannot permit

it.
“ He will he tried, I suppose?”
“ As soon as I can hear from the port captain
at Portsmouth, to whom I shall send my report
by a special messenger on horseback at noon,
for I are anxious to show that I was not so mis
taken in my belief of your husband’s guilt.

“ I will ask the permission of Commander
Hunnewell for you to see the prisoner, and the
day after to—morrow will give you his reply."

‘ . ‘ I thank you,” and Alma turned away with
a suddenness that surpriSed the oilicer.

He had expected pleading and tears, and her
ﬁgol manner of taking his refusal staggered

in.

He watched her as she walked rapidly away
ﬁnd saw that she took the way back to her

ome.
“ I do not believe she cares much for him, or
she would have shown more feeling.

“ By Neptune! but she’s a beauty.

“ I never saw a lOVelier face and form, and
{the has spirit, too.

“ Nowto go toVail’s and write my report
and send a mounted messenger with it to old
HunneWell.”

. Ezra Vail was in his oillce when the naval
, oﬂlcer entered, and greeted him with apparent
surprise.

“ I heard the Vidette had returned, but coqu
not believe it,” he said.

“ The Vidette did not return alone.”

“Ah! you brought company?”

4‘ Yes.” I

“ The smuggler?”

“Yes.”

. “ Mountjo of course!”

“ Yes, an his crew and vessel."
' “ You have proof of his lawless acts this
' time?”

. s I have.”

“ Well, that settles it for him.”

‘F It does, for I have the sloop and her crew
from which he took the contraband goods.”

‘ “Ah! where is she at anchor?”

“ I had not room for her to anchor near the
Vidette and Schooner, so let her go some little
distance from me, out of the way of incoming
: and outgoing vessels.”

‘.‘ I see, and who is on board of her!”
‘ “ Her skipper and six men.”
’ - “ And her goods?”

‘5 Ya.”

’ “ Of course a rise crew." '
“ Y’s, Mid pman Ben Thomas and four

men.
I “ The best men of your crew?” ,
'1 “ Two of them are, the other two have served
their time, so get paid oi! today, but will re-
. main aboard until to-morrow when the others
can 0 and take their place.” '
“ h, yes, that is a good idea."
“ And could the two on speak of as having
, aervod their time, be’bri W ‘
“ lies, for they are; worthless fellows, any-e
ow

 
. “ All right; but you have not made your re-
, port etto old Hunnewell’i” "

“ o, I wish to write it here.”
'2 ‘ “Of course ”

“  can get one at the inn.”
“ Thank you." ' \
“Now, tellme how Mountjoy took his cap-

a: J"

“Egad, I thought at one time be meantto
resist me- but he did not and coolly took the
matter when he saw that appearances were all

' “kA’pd send-it by a special messenger on horse- '

 
, agaigsthim; but what‘s lovely wife he has.”
ji‘vnn.

1

 
“ on have seen her, then?” quickly asked '

h

 aura-I1»; I"t‘41vq-i“‘
,z », 1 3. V , , . _ z.

'AH'H- r'sI'ti I: v w'l?
1 ~ " ‘ ' ‘

“Yes, she came to the dock and not knowing
me asked about her husband and you should
have seen her eyes, and she had grand ones,
when I told her he was a smuggler.

” She said I spoke falsely, and was his foe.

“Of course I denied it, and also refused her
Eermission to see him, but said that 1 would ask

ommandant Hunnewell.”

“ And then i”

“ She left with no other word, and I came on
here; but she is a beauty, certainly."

“ She is not had-lookin ,” returned Ezra Vail,
indiﬂ'erently, and he yie ded his desk for the
naval officer to write his report, while, two
hours after a horseman rode away on the high-
way leading to Portsmouth.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
rm: MASKED roo'rrlln.

WHEN Alma turned so abruptly away from
Captain Spruel, she had suddenly made up her
mind to some act, suggested by the words of
the ofﬁcer.

She returned at a rapid pace homeward, and
there sought her husband’s wardrobe, from
which she took a number of articles of wearing
apparel.

These she went over carefully, taking a stitch
here and there, and seemed to be very intent
upon her work for fully an hour.

Then she went to her own room, and soon
after reappeared, bearing a large bundle in one
arm and a long package, carefully wrapped up,
in the other.

She left the cottage in a way that showed she
did not wish to be seen, and by a path that led
into the woods behind the little house and
which ran back to the top cf the hill.

Along the path she walked at a brisk step,
hearing her bundles until she came to an old
deserted house, and which rumor said was
haunted by evil spirits, a murder having been
committed there long years before.

She knew well that the woods where it was
situated were avoided by all, but with utter
fearlessness she pushed Open the heavy door and
entered.

‘ Some ﬁt en minutes passed after her entrance

and then t ere came out of the cabin a slender-
formed personage, with a cloak thrown over the
shoulders, a slouch hat shielding the head and a.
face that was hidden by a black mask.

Across his arm was thrown a short riﬂe, and
along a th overgrown with Weeds from long
disuse, form went at a rapid stop until he
came to a highway. '

It was the stage-road to the east, Portsmouth,
Portland, and other towns. ,

A large tree was on the side of the road,
around which was a thicket of underwood, and
here the masked personage halted.

Five, ten, thirty minutes passed away, and
then came the rumb e of wheels.

Out of sight shrunk the masked individual,
and a wagon passed with a farmer on his way
to town. l
Soon after the fall of boots was heard and a
horseman appeared in‘ si ht.’

As he neared the tree t e road led up a slight
hill. and he drew his horse to a walk. ’

He was a young man of twenty, with red hair,
freckled face an the: general look of a stable-

 
bo .

Suddenly he saw a form step before his horse,
riﬂe covered him and a voice said sternly:

“ Halt l”

“ Oh, Lordy!” \

The ejaculation came from the rider, but he
obeyed the summons and halted.

“ Dismountl this side i”

The rider obeyed, trembling in every limb,
while he said anxiously: ‘

“ You hain’t goin’ ter kill me, be yer?”

“That depends. \

“ Out with your money if you would save
your life.” ’

“ 0h, sir, I hain’t got but a few dollars, given
me for expenses on the way.” ,

“ What way do you ride?”

“ To Portsmouth, sir.” i i

“ Lead your horse and take that path into the
woods; but if youattempt to escape I will kill

on.

The frightened man obeyed and after getting
welll out of sight of the ighway was told to

t.

“ Hitch your horse."

He obeyed. , .

" Now sit there on that log,”/ ordered the
masked footped.

A ain the horseman obeyed. ‘

“ ow, what have you about you?”

“ Only ﬁve dollars sir to pay my way,”

“ That is not worth taking, so keep it. , '

“ Oh, thank on, Mister Robber.”

“ What else ve you" t

“ Nothing, sir.” ‘ r '
. “ Tell me no lies, if you ,value your life.”

“No, no, sir, I would not lie to you, and I
have only a letter.” -

“ Let me see it,”

The than handed out from an inner pocket of
his Jacket in sealed packs 9. .

“There is money in th s?" _

“Oh, no, air We only a letter,,from the Cap.
tain of the ,Vidette to the commandant at

 
_ .l  v -

.i‘ ..._
«,1, ,

 
Portsmouth, telling of the capture of a smuggler
cragtnl suppose, sir, for one was caught last
ni t. ‘

‘ I shall see for myself if the package contains
money or not.”

With this the masked footpad broke open the
seal and some dozen pages were revealed closely
written.

Hastily he glanced over them and then folding
up the package handed it back to the bearer
with the remark:

“ I opened it without breaking the seal, as you
see, and my‘advice to you is when you halt to-
night, to put it back, as you can do. so that it
wi 1 appear not to have been touched.”

“I’ll do it, sir; but you’ll be letting me go
then?”

“ Yes, as you have told me the truth, for there
was no money in it, and what you have is too
paltry for me to touch.

“ Wait here for ﬁve minutes and then mount
your horse and go our way.”

“ Yes, sir, and t ank ye,” said the delighted
messenger, and shouldering his gun, the footpad
strode away, and was soon lost in the woods
from the sight of the man he had halted on the
highway.

“ He forgot to ask the commandant if I could
see Mark, as he said he would, and as I felt sure
he would not.

“Well, I know just what his report is, and
being forewarned is to he forearmed,” and the
speaker entered the haunted cabin once more.

Soon after Alma reappeared, hearing her bun-
dles, and made her way to her home.

She had been guilty of a lawless act, halting
a messenger with Government dispatches on the
highway and reading them; but she had acted
to save her husband by being warned of what
he would be accused of.

Reaching home, she soon after came out of
her room wearing her street dress and bonnet,
and telling the nurse she was going to The Ear
borage, set off in that direction.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
BEARDING THE LION.

CAPTAIN HERBERT DEERING greatly enjoyed
the restful life he led at The Harborage.

His aunt was anxious to do all in her ower
for his enjoyment and comfort, and was appy‘
to have the gallant young soldier with her.

So it was that he had been lazily going about
the' house and grounds the day on which the
Vidette arrived with her two prizes, and had not
heard of the affair which was creating so much
excitement dowrﬂn the town.

His reveries in an easy-chair in the library, -
however, were brought to a sudden close by the
coming in of the butler to announce a lady in-
the parlor who desired to speak with him.

He went at once, wondering who it could be,
and discovered Mrs. Mountjoy awaiting his
coming.

Her beautiful face was pale, her manner ex—
cited and he knew that something had gone
wrong.

She had also asked for his aunt, and Miss Kitt-
redge came in, wondering at the prompt return
of her visit.

But Alma gave them little time for wonder,
as one at once told her story and how she had
been received by Captain Spruel.

“ My poor child, how you have been made to
suffer,” said Miss Kittredge feelingly.

“ He is not guilty of course. though appear-
ances are against him, and I will soon know his
story of the affair, for they can hardly refuse
me,” the young soldier said.

Then it was that Alma remarked:

“ I cannot tell you how I got my information,

 
Ca tain Deering, but I will vouch for its being V

rel able, and I know that Captain Spruel sai

nothing of my being. allowed to see. my husband .

in his report. ’

“ Yet he told you he would ask that you ,
might?” ’
/ ‘ He did, sir.”

“But you know that he did not make the re-
quest?” 1 r

“ I do, and more, I can tell you. about what
the report 'was, if you care to hear it.”

“Certainly, and by all means.” .

“ You must not ask of my doing so, as I
cannot betray my ant ority.” '

“ Neither my aunt or myself will do so, Mrs.
Mountjoy.” '

“ Well, sir, he began b _ stating that he had
intimiltion that a smngg mg craft ’was oi! the-
coast, and he at at once to sea, ran down to the
eastward of well Island, and with topmosts
housed lay in hiding. ‘

He saw a. sloop comingvfrom the northward,
and then sighted the inged Arrow coming

out of Salem Harbor, and there were signals be- I '

tween the two vessels. ,

“ Then the neared each other .and appeared
to be lying ongside,and so remained for a long
while, until he’hed run down near to them.
' “ The schooner and the sloop then arted
company and he hailed the latter to

cargo to the Winged Arrow, for bein _ caught
the smuggler captain at once cont it.

“Then, putting a prize crew on board then}

sloop, he sent‘ a shot 'over the schooner which

‘.’\

l

.,that‘ r ‘
she was a smuggler, but had transferred her ' .

 
, w ‘ w‘ .> :‘r-‘yi, .J v n ilk-Vurny ‘ -| -‘ 1-.

seemed to be unable to ﬂy, for some reason anti
bringing her to he boarded and arrested Mark
and his crew for smuggling, after which he
brought both vessels into alem Harbor as

rizes. A’
p “ He went on to say that being caught in the
act, as it were, there was no doubt of Mark’s
guilt, and asked immediate instructions regard-
ing his prisoners.

‘ Such was the report, Captain Decring.”

“ This looks black against Captain Mountjoy,
but I do not believe him gmlty.

“Thank you for your trust, sir, and I also be-
lieve him guiltless."

“ I am glad to see your conﬁdence in your hus-
band, my child, and sincerely hope it may prove
not misplaced, and I believe that it will be, in
spite of appearances against him,” Miss Kittredge
remarked.

Then Herbert Deering was silent a moment,
and said:

“It is remarkable how you know about the
report of Captain Spruel, but as you do it shows
just what the charge is against Mark, and we
are forearmenl.

“ Now remain with my aunt while I go down-
town and try to see Mark," and as Miss Kitt-
redge also urged it, Alma stayed at The Har-
borage, while Herbert Deering at once went
down-town.

He soon saw that the town was in a state of
excitement, people in crowds were discussing the
ca. ture.

6 went at once to the gate of the Govern-
ment wharf, and asked to see the prisoner, Cap-
tain Mark Mountjoy.

He was refused by the ofﬁcer in charge, but
was referred to Captain Spruel.

“ Where is he?” somewhat impatiently asked
the soldier.

“ At the ofﬁce of Ezra Vail & Company,” was
the response. '

Thither he went, and surprised the merchant
Whaler and the sailor together.

They were evidently annoyed at his appear-
ancehbut received him courteously, and he asked
quic y:

“ Captain Spruel, I called upon my friend
MountJoy, Just now, and your lieutenant refuse
toallow me to see him, so, assured that there
was some mistake, I called upon you, air, to ask
the rivilege.”

“ our friend, sir, has proven himself un wor-
thyof your friendship, and—” v

‘ Captain Spruel, pra ' understand that I

came not here to discuss t e guilt or innocence
of my friend, but toask you togive me a permit
to see him.
_ “ Untilyou prove him guilty he is innocent
in my opinion, and if you do not give me the
authority, I shall seek it from higher authority
than yourself.”

ﬁghi And what higher authority, may I
as .

“ From General Nevitte, who commands this
department, and has writtcn word that he will
be my aunt’s guest at'l‘he Harborage tonight.

“"1 believe you acknowledge him as a superior,

r.

Fred iﬁrud winced at this name, for he, as
well as other ofﬁcers of the army and navy
who were under the old general’s command,
great] feared him, and he was aware that Her-
bert eering was his grand-nephew, and a

t favorite withthe aged soldier, so rumor

it.

“ Yesair. I acknowledge that GeneralNevitto
is my Superior oﬂcer, but as I' did not refuse
you permission to visit the prisoner, there is
no‘feason why you should ask it of him.”

i I am glad that you think better'of it, air,
and do not force me to make ademand of you to
let me visit my friend, and I desire also a. pass
to permit ,the prisoner’s wife to see her husband
mii'ngiirgw'” 1 hi h ‘

r‘ prue t. is lips at this, and said:

“ Captain Deer-mg, you, as an army oﬂcer, I
will allow to see Mountjoy, for your honor asan
ofﬁcer Wlll prevent your doing one thing to aid
him toescape Just punishment by trickery; but
his. Wife 1 cannot allow to visit him, without
hearing from Commandant Hunnewell to whom
I have sent my report, and made a special re-
quest to_him to give Mrs. Mountjoy the requisite
permissmn.” ,

I “ As the authority is in your hands, sir, there
was no reason to ask a permit from Captain
Hunnewell; but as you wish higher authority
than yourself, I Will at it from General Nevitte

,gnlg‘ht, of course to ling him I was refused it
Spruel was white with r e for h B]
that the soldier was proving himésgl his mastic:

_ ad he not been suffering from a guilty con-
sci‘euco in the matter, he would have braved it
on .

But he felt guilty, and the further words of
Herbert Deerln can ' ' "
thawior 3n  him to feel more so, for
_ ere something ve remarkable to me
in the determined manneran which Captain
Mount oy has been hunted down to be raven a
m or, while men known to be on '

and _ WS’ ‘33"

rates, infest this coast from Mainsto the
they elude allcruisel's.

) 1 Gulf and are‘hlmted with such lukewarness that.

 
w: ,. :~.- .5, , 'V,. ‘13,.“ a I

“ It looks to me as though Captain Mount oy
was to be made the scapegoat of all of them.’

Ezra Vail winced at this, and Captain Spruel
hotlv replied:

“ Do you intimate, Captain Deering, that I
sin 2111, a conspiracy against Mountjoy the smug-
g er

“ I intimate nothing, sir, but you can take my
words with any meaning you deem ﬁt to put
upon them, only as you have an unsettled affair
with Mountjoy on hand, pray attend to that be-
fore resenting what I may say.”

“ What! do you expect me to ﬁght aduel with
an outlaw?”

“ You have not proven him such yet, only
hold him on suspicion, with, I admit, ap eur-
aiices very much against him; but shoul you
fail to prove our charge, you have to meet the
man you w' again have wronged. and if you
consider that l have insulted you, then you may
demand an apology of me, or satisfaction.”

“ Now, sir, I must ask you for the ermits for
Mrs. Mountjoy and myself to visi the pris-
oner.”

Fred Spruel muttered a curse, but wrote the
asses, and thanking him politely, the soldier
eft the ofﬁce.

“Vail, what do you think of that?” he asked

savagely, when Deering had gone.

“ He bullied you."

“ Could I do otherwise with old Nevitte bang-
ing over me to grant the permits if I refused,
and give me a sound damning in the bargain
for not knowing my duty, for I have no right
to refuse?”

“ i do not see that you Could have done other-
wise; but that follow is as smart as a college
graduate and knows” what‘he is about, while he
is dangerous also and full of ﬁght.”

“ A blind man could see that," growled Spruel.

“Yes, and we must go slow in this aﬂfair or
Mounth will be made a mart r of.”

“ We ' Say ourself, for have been sim-
ply doing my uty in capturing two vessels
that I saw together at sea exchanging contra-
band goods. , '

“ This is your plot, not mine. Ezra Vail.”

“ Yes, my plot, and your work, and I pay
and on receiva.

“ o be it, I will pay the price when the work
is done, Captain Spruel.”

“ See that you do, and more, See that you do
not com romise me,” and in an angry mood
Captain pr'uel left the ofﬁce and returned to
his vessel to learn that Ca tain Herbert Deer-
1ng was then with Mark ountjoy, the alleged
mugs] .___’_
CHAPTER XXXV.

THE ACCUSED.

WHEN Captain Herbert Deering left the oﬁce
of Ezra Vail & Co. he wont, as has been seen, to
the Government- wharf and asked to see Mark
Mountjoy, showing his pass to do so. '

The emcer in charge looked surprised, for
Captain Spruel had told him he would permit
no one to see the “ Smuggler Captain ” as Mark
Mountjoy was alread called. \

But there wasno ouhting the permit when
borne by Herbert Deering, and he was a lowed
to go on board the Winged Arrow where the
prisoner was held in his cabin. ,

r “ Ah, Deering. this is kind of you and I thank

ivlou,_fbr appearancesseem so against me. from
eai-ing one side of the story, I almost feared

you would think I was after a 1 an outlaw,” and

Mark Mountjoy grasped the outstretched hand of

the young soldier and wrung it with a force

gust ghowed he appreciated the coming of his
men .

“I was at home and had not heard of the
capture until Mrs. Mountjoy came up to The
Harborage and made it known to, my aunt and

mvse .

‘“ She tried to see you also, but met Captain
Spruel and was refused.”

‘ Bless the little woman, I knew she would;
but I am sorry she was repul .”

“Oh, I was also, but I went to see Captain
Spruel and after a little talk with him he was
so well convinced that it was best for him to let
me see you, that I obtained a‘ rmit, and one
also ,for your wife. who will Visit you to-mor-
row.

“Ever kind are you, Herbert Deering,” said
Mounth with emotion.

“ No, try to be just; but what does your
capture mean?"

“ Appearances are against me as you will see;
but I am not guilty except in the eyes of those
who wish me to. be.

“ I sailed with a fair wind, and south of
Naugus Head sighted a sloop which gave signals
of distress. '

“ I ran down toher and found she was sink-
ing from a ve bad leak, and her captain begs

ed me to ta 9 himself. crew and a'small but
very valuable cargo on board, which I did. ‘

“ Then the skipper said he might save his
vessel. so wi h his men returned to her togo
into Marble ead‘if possible, while I held on my
course once more to be br ught to 'by a. shot
from the Vidette, which he run d0wn upon us
unseen. having been hiding behind Lo'well Is,-

n w».

 
land watching the 61001). for it had been report

,  to Captain Spruel as a smuggler, and that- dbl

 
) V

was what had taken him to sea. so suddenlyiu
the afternoon.

“ He captured the crew and recognized thorn
as smugglers, and it seems the chief said he had
transferred his cargo to my vessel and did not
say why, and that got me into this scrape.

" I was put in irons with my crew, and the,
smugglers, and brou ht in here; but I hope
there will be no troub e about my proving my
innocence at my trial.

“ Such is my story, Deering." i

“ And I believe it word for word, though un-
der the circumstances I crnuot censure Spruel.”

“ Not I."

“ Unless——”

“ What?" ‘

“ He seems very determined to run you down
as an outlaw, and unless these men, this smug-
gler crew, have lied about you, anxious to com-
plicate matters so as to aid themselves, I do not
see why he should not believe you story.”

“ They have done so." /

“ Then it is his duty to hold you; but my
great-uncle, General Nevitte. will be at The
Harboruge to—night and remain some da 8, so I
Will have him see that there is no dela n your ’ 
trial, and also hear your case as I believe it try , a, “

 
e.

“ The general commands this department you
know, and though stern is most Just, and he is
very kind toward me, so you may rest content:
ed that he shall know all the facts of the case.

“ But I must go now, for your wife awaits
with my aunt my report, and I shall take a
hand in this affair myself, so keep up heart and
belieye you have friends who will not desert

Ou.’ .
y “ I know it.” ‘ . .

And thus they parted, the soldier gomg
ashore and rapidly wending his way back to .
The Harborage. . ,

He found both Alma and his aunt anxiously. r
awaiting his return, and the listened to his.
story of the affair, as he had eard it from the
lips of Mark Mountjoy,-with the deepest inter-<-
est. ' ‘ ,
“ I knew poor Mark was innocent,” said. .
Alma with tears in her eyes. . r ' a '

“ I feel so too, my dear; but, Herbert, it 1
looks to me as though Captain Spruel was push— ~
ing Captain Mount oy from other motives than: I
a Sense of duty," . iss Kittredge said. ' »

“ I an ested 30251111011 to him, Aunt Jessie; .
but I aim take g care to see justice done.” i‘

“ Do so, and remember to seek my aid when
needed in any way.” ' ‘

“ You are so good, sokind to us; but some
day we may be able to prove our appreciation ” ‘
said Alma, and Herbert Deering having told.
her that he had gotten a permit for her to visit
her husband the following mornin , and th t he
should call for her and escort her 1; ere. she k
leave and returned to IvyLod etoﬂnd what:
comfort she could in her two chi dren and her _
household affairs. - 1

Soon after Alma’s departure from The Har-
borage, General Nevitte arrived. - - ,_ . ‘5

He was a handsome, stem-faced old gentle» '
man of sixty, with the carriage of the perfect- ,
soldier and manners that were courtly though, \ 
reserved. ' _ 11

Miss Kittredge and Herbert Deering were his j
favorite kindred, and he was always happy V
when at The Harborage. ’ ‘

That night he heard the tory of the Mountr,
joys, and ever prompt, be dis atched a special ,
messenger before midnight to ortxmonthwmh
a letter to Commandant Hnnnewell, remting \
an immediate trial for the prisoners ‘ ‘ ‘
smugglers, and an estin that as for as the I
skipper and crew o the inged Arrow were-f ,, ' a
concerned, he believed them the victims of hay“- 4— 
ing been captured under suspicious dreams-1
stances. ' '

Herbert Deering went down-town to dispatch '
a messenger himself‘with the letter, and after
seein him of! returned home in a very cheerful
mood at having enlisted the general as the:
friend of the accused.  V

CHAPTER XXXVI.
hAgCLEVIR rm. .f -,
Mmsunnuu Bra Tacius was pacing to and
fro on the deck of the smuggler sloop, when ’a, 1' ’2’
boot came of! toward him roving rapidly and,
containing but oneman. , I
“Boatahoxl‘h, . . r . ,
At his bail came the answer as the man stop—v
ped rowingaud turned his face toward him: ‘ A i
“A , ay, air, a letter\ from the captain to
Midsh pman Thalia." ‘ . ' , "
“ Come ulo do."
This the man‘dld, and
sllpop hunched snow to,
teremar: , i i . 
“ I met the captain in the town, air, and 
wrote this to you. air, being“ you watched:
ourcraft.” \ I, . . 
The middy stopped to the light from the cabin
companionway and read: . I 1 ,1. 
‘i o twnbect en'and the harbor \
Take y m- in range I If“,

ems . si“£:iiii§‘..'“°"

re s ran 6 . ,ow. V . a . H
3 p0 genome Videtteandhavci ,V in
ofﬁcer an boat’s follow you so soonaa ,

 
ringing on boardthe. .
9 young ofﬂoorwith

“ The r will

6.

 
I

20' r l

The Doomed'Whaler.

   
‘  I,  “,er

‘ m“ ‘3’:  "(.2 .4 ‘3‘?“er

  
“ I will go'at once, my man; but what is the
trouble?”

“ It is with the mate and the men, sir; but I
slipped away to come and get ofﬁcers, and met
the captain who went into the inn and wrote
this note to you.

“ I will go on now, sir after others.”

“Do 50, and don’t delay,” and the midship-
‘man called to two of his four men and told them
to arm themselves and accom any him, while
the messenger from the brig tlgin went away
in his boat toward the Government wharf at
which lay the Vidette and which was a consid-
erable distance from where the sloop lay at
anchor.

Hardly bad the sloop’s boat disappeared when
the messenger returned and was hailed by the
man on watch.

“ A message from the Vidette.”

u , ayy

The man again stepped on the sloop’s deck,
and said:

“ The oﬂicer has already gone?”

H Yes.”

“ May I ask if you have not served out your
time?”

. “We has, and is kept for a. few days over, as
the schooner is short of men, and we don’t like
it,” was the sullen response.

‘fWell, my man, you and your mate are un—
der no pledge to remain, and if you can make a.
hundred or so by going, you ought to do so.”

“ But there’s no way to make it, going or
staying.”

“Oh, yes, there is, for just get that anchor
up and set sail and here's your money "

“ Run of! with the sloop?”

is Yes.”

“ And the prisoners?” asked the other man.

“ That’s my idea, and there is no reason that
the poor fellows should 0 behind iron bars be-
cause they sought to ma 9 a little money.

“ They have families to care for, and if you
want to help them, I have the gold right here
. for you; but if you do not, then I have iron in-
stead of gold, and you can take your choice."

As the man spoke he held out a bag of gold
in one hand and a pistol in the other.

“ We hain’t armed, so we takes the gold; but
we’d a heap rather you’d pay us, and then put
*us in irons and into the boat.

“It would look better you know, for we could
lacy as how we was overpowered.”

“ 4’11 right, there is no time to loss, so here
- 098.

The man acted romptly, and he seemed to
come well prepar , for he took the irons from
his pocket, and in an instant. the men were se-
cured.

" Now the smugglers are below?”

“Yes sir.”

V“In irons?”

“ Yes, but the keys is in the cabin, sir.” "

These were secured, and his couple of mi utes
the smugglers were on deck. the two seamen

- were hustled into the boat of the bold rescuer
and it was anchored, and the sloop was the next
moment ﬂying down the harbor toward the open
sea.

The young midshipman meanwhile, had gone
i on up the , harbor in scare of the brig Elgin.

He found some diiﬁculty in the darkness ﬁnd-
ing the brig, but at last did so, and boarded her.

0 his amazement found all quiet on

urd.
“ Is not this the brig Elgin?”
, . “Yes, sir,” said the mate, politely, recognizing
' the uniform of an ofﬁcer.
V“ What is the trouble on board?”
“There is no trouble on board, sir."
“ Come, sir, no triﬂing after sending for me
to come on board and quell a mutiny.” r
‘ :zguell’a mutiny on this vessel, sir?”
‘ . es.

“ There has been no mutiny, sir, for I have
been on deck since eight bells, and the captain is

_ - sales]? in his cabin.”

‘ “ y Heaven, I have been fooled then or this
‘ i's not the craft.” said Midshipman Ben Thomas.
9‘ This is the El in, sir.”

‘ , “ Is there no ot er brig at anchor up here?” ,
“ No, sir; there are several schooners and a
few small loops.”

» “ I do not understand this at all; but I have

here a letter from my captain, telling me to

come on board the brig Elgin, and quell trouble
of some kind."

“ Beg pardon, sir, but may it not be a trick to
free the sloop, sir ” said one of the two seamen
who accompanied the middy.

V " By Neptune! Broles, you may be right.
“ Into the boat, and we’ll return with all

he order was promptly obeyed, and the boat
’went along at a rattling pace. '
V The pull was a long one, and when at last they
reached the anchorage of the sloop, there was the
boat only to be found, and in itthe two men in

tons. .
Theynboth told the same story, how about
with t it a dozen men had comezaboard, an-
SWering the bail with:
- “Boot from the Vidette.” “
Not until they were seized did they suspec
’mcheraznd thenethey were ironed hustled
signs the tend left there, while the sloop had

gone seaward, at ﬁrst under light soil, but
gfadually spreading all canvas as she went
a ong.

Midshipman Ben Thomas was in an angry
mood, and he had but one thing to do, and that
was to take the boat in tow with the two men in
irons, and go to the Vidette to report what had
occurred.

Captain Spruel had dined at the tavern With
Captain Ezra Vail, and having indulged a little
too freely, he was not easily awakened.

It was some time before he was able to under-
stand the situation.

But there was his own writing, apparently,
and he said to himself:

“I could almost swear that it was mine: but
you have been duped, Thomas, though I cannot
hold you to blame under the circumstances.

"‘ Go on board the other prize, the Winged
Arrow, for she is the ﬂeetest thing in these
waters, and give chase.

“ How long has the sloop been gone?”

“Just one hour and a half ago, sir, I left the
sloop on my fool’s errand.”

“ And by the time you get well under way it
will be two hours’ start for the sloop.”

“ Yes, sir.”

“ How is the wind?”

“ Off-shore, sir, and blowing six knots.”

“ Then the‘ 5100 has three leagues the lead;
but go at once, an if you cannot ﬁnd her in a.
coup e of days, return.

1“ I”will go to sea. in the morning on the search
a so.

Midshipman Thomas saluted and hastily left
the Vidette. leaving the two men still in irons
on board for the captain to deal with, and
greatly, too, to their alarm, for they had ex-
pected to be at once set free when they told their
plausible story.

Meanwhile Middy Thomas soon reported on
board the Winged Arrow, and the lieutenant in
command got the schooner’s anchor up and soils
set with wonderful alocrity, for it would be a.
featélger in his cap to catch the escaped smuggler
cra .

 
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE FUGITIVE smor.

ARMED with her pass, and accompanied by
Captain Herbert Deering, the next morning,
Alma. sought the Government Wharf, and was
admitted to the schooner to see her husband.

Herbert Deeriug remained outside of the
state-room in which Mountjoy was consigned, so
as to allow the wife to see her unfortunate hus—
band alone.

For half an hour she remained there and then
bade the marine on guard to send for Captain
Peering.

That ofﬁcer was chatting on deck with some
of the oﬂicers of the schooner, who were won-
dering at his deep interest in the fate of Mount-
joy the smuggler. " ,

He prompt y obeyed the summons, and after
greeting Mountjoy, said:

“ I have news for you.”

“ Yes; sir.”

“ The smuggler sloop escaped last night.”

Mountjoy started and asked quickly;

“ How could she do thati” .

“ I noticed considerable excitement as we
came along, and wondered what it was all
about; but Lieutenant Volney of the Vidette
just told me of the sloop’s esca and how it
occurred, and a most clever tric it was,” and
the soldier told the story, adding:

“ The schooner, your vessel, under an ofﬁcer
and crew from the Vidette, at once went in
chase, thou h the sloop had had several leagues
start, and pruel intended, also to go this morn-
in , but heard from an incoming craft that the
ngn ed Arrow was in hot chase of the smug-
gler own the coast, so knew she would be re-
taken.”

“ es, she will be if they know how to get the
Arrow’s speed out of her, for I do not know her
equal on the coast.

“ But the rescue was a daring one, and showed
that the smu glers had friends here in the town
to so soon re ease them,” Mountjoy said:

“Yes. and they acted prompt] ; but I had a
long talk with my great-uncle, eneral Nevitte,
last night about you.” ‘

“Ab! and he believes I am guilty, I fear.”

“ He says what I do, that appearances are
against you, Mountjoy, but he mits that up-
pearances are often wrong, and he sent especial
messenger last night at twelve to Portsmouth,
with a strong letter to Captain Hunnewell, or-
dering an immediate trial of yourself and crew,
andfvou will ﬁnd him our friend.” ‘

“ owa this to you, coring,”

“ Well, I cannot see that you owe me very
much, for you forget the debt due you from me,
the debt of life.”

“ Do not speak of it.” '

“ It is not a thing to so readily forget; but at
any rate, Mountjoy, We three at The Harborage
are your friends. , l V
_ “ Now, Mrs. Mountjoy. as we have overstayed
our time, we had better do V ” ‘

Alma told Mark farewe with a brave face,
and under the escort of captain Deering left the

 
snip.

)

 
Her beauty had been spoken of, and all the
ofﬁcers on board had assembled on deck to see
her depart, and saluted the army ofﬁcer most
politely as be escorted her ashore.

“She is a beauty, and no mistake,” the sur-
geon remarked, with the air of one who had
diagnosed her ﬁne points at a glance and so set-
tled the matter.

“Pretty! well, I should think so,” another re-
marked.

“ She has a. lovely face, indeed.”

“ And such a. form I” _

"' Such exquisite teeth l”

“What glorious eyes l”

“And a smuggler’s wife!”

“ A lady to the manner born 2”

“ What a pity to be an outlaw’s wife!”

‘_‘ll-lo,l,d on, Cruse, he is not yet tried and found
gui t .

“ e is only an alleged smuggler,” said Lieu-
tenant Volney, and there was a signiﬁcance in
his words which several present only seemed to
comprehend, and they smiled knowingly.

“ He’ll be found guilty if the captain can have
it so,” bluntly blurted out the old sailing-master,
and his words seemed to be the keynote to the
situation.

As the soldier and his lovely charge left the
wharf, they came face to face upon Captain
Fred Spruel and Ezra. Vail.

The two bowed coldly to the soldier and Alma
and then, after a word to Ezra. Vail, Captain
Spruel called out:

“ May I see you after a while, Captain Deer-
ing, upon a matter of importance?”

“ Yes, sir, now, for Mrs. Mountjoy no longer
needs my services as an esoort,” and bidding her
good-morning and to keep up courage, Herbert
Deering turned and joined the naval ofﬁcer and
the Whaler captain.

“ I suppose you have heard of the putting-out

of the smuggler sloop last night, sir

“ Yes, Captain Spruel, I learned it on board
your vessel just now.”

“It was a daring plot and cleverly executed.
while I can lay no censure at the door of Mid-
shipman Thomas, but regret I did not put the
ﬁve prisoners on board the schooner.

“ But what I wished to know, sir, is Whether
General Navitte is in town i”

“ He is at the home of my aunt, sir.” i

“It is so far to, Portsmouth, to communicate
with Captain Hunnewell, I would like to ask it
I could report to General N ev1tte, and receive
orders and advice from him, if you would be so
good as to ask him for me.”

“ I will answer for the general, sir, having
been appointed his personal aide and placed on
duty this morning, sir.”

The two hearers looked surprised.

They knew the value of such an appointment,
and the honor it carried with it.

They also knew that ‘it advanced the rank of
the side from that of captain to major and
Captain Spruel suddenly found himself, con-
fronted by his superior in rank in the service of
his country. -

As the special aide of General Nevitte. not to
speak of being his great-nephew and heir, the
young oﬂlcer would have almost unlimited
powers.

Fred Spruel was not eeiual to the occasion,
butl Ezra. Vail was, so said with a. pleasant
sun e:

“ Another promotion for you, sir, and so soon,

“' Permit me to congratulate you—Major

Deering, I take it to be?”

“ Yes; thank you. Captain Vail, for your con-
gratulations upon my‘promotion again, which
certainly was not deserved.”

“ And accept my congratulations also, Major
Deering,” sai Spruel. ‘

Herbert Deermg bowed an acknowledgment
and then said: I

"I will receive your report, Captain Spruel,
and submit it to the general.

“ But have you no clew to the perpetrators of
this dead?” 4

“ None, sir' but as I learn from a vessel that
came in early, the schooner Winged Arrow
which I sent In pursuit last night, we in full

chase,and will overhaul and capture her without '

a doubt.”

“ I trust so, sir, for much depends upon the
recapture of those men on the sloop, to sustain
the ]innocence of Mountjoy and his crew in their
tria . ,

“ You still think he is innocent, sir?"

“ I am sure of it; but of course you did your
duty. surprising him as you did, and with the
report of the ski {or of the sleep- .

‘I will be at e Harborage, Captain Spruel,
to receive your r port.”

“I will send it sir, within the hour' but do
you think I should go to sea in pursuit?" '

“ The time to have done so was last night, sir,
along with the schooner, so to have searched up
and down the coast° n0w it is too late, and the
schooner will doubtless capture the smuggler, if
in chase, for she is faster than the Vidette, I
believe.” ~ ' ‘ '

Fred Spruel winced under this double shot
against his dereliction of duty, and at the,
of his vessel, which. he was most boast! of;

but he made no reply, bowed, and the two

 
)6

“fig? ., 1»;

 
wg’ﬁw

21k»  w

' The boomed "was...

 u.» .5”. e

 x..~ .i «x
4 .~“- 'r  1

 
friends parted with the handsome young ofﬁcer,
who bore his high honors so moderately.

“ Those two men do not appear to be con—
genial companions, and yet they are insepara-

e.

“What is the bond of sympathy between
them?

“ Can it be Mountjoy, for I am sure both of
them hate him intensely,” and thus a new vein
of thought was opened in the mind of Major
Herbert Deering.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
NOT IN THE SECRET.

“WELL, Vail, that is against us,” said Fred
Spruel, as he walked on with the whaler cap-
tain, after leaving Major Deering.

“ If you mean Deering’s promotion to the
sta.&,,and the presence of this old general here,
it is.

“ I mean that he will have unlimited power
nor, 83 close to the general, and if he suspects
on y— ‘

“ Bah! what can he suspect?”

“ 1 mean about us.”

“ Well, what can he suspect about us?”

. “ That we are leagued against Captain Mount-
JO .

“ Nonsensel He cannot suspect what does not
exist.

“ Why, it is but your guilty conscience,
Spruel i”

.  guilty conscience about what does not ex-
is .

“ Ah, good for you! Why, I did not suspect
you of being half so bright.

“ But the thing in a nutshell is, that I hate
Mountjoy, and wish to see him caught, impris-
oned—yes, hanged if possible.

“‘ You owe me money, and Wish to give your
work to square your debt. .

“ I told you to catch Mountioy smuggling,
and you were worsted by him at ﬁrst, but now
have him safe and sound, and can send him to
prison, for you caught him with smuggled goods
on his vessel, and which he took from a self-
confessed smuggler, who reported to you that
he gave the goods to Mountjoy, to run in with
them, and dispose of them.

“ Is this a conspiracy i”

ﬂ: It does not look so, now I see your view of
i

“ No, and you are not responsible for the es-
cape of the sleep”: -

" I may be made so.” '

“ Oh, no, for you anchored her where there
was room for her, and where the crowds would
keep away.

“ An ofﬁcer and four seamen were left on
board as a guard, and the ﬁve prisoners were in
irons in the hold.

“ A boat. comes with a note from you to your
ofﬁcer, telling him that there is tron le on a brig
and to hasten there.

“ Who can make wrong out of that?

“ The writing was a forgery, but that relieves
you and the middy.

‘* Then a boat, so say the two men, boarded
the sloop and put them in irons.

“ They lie there, but that is—well, I’ll not put
you at a disadvantage by saying more on that
sub 'ect. '

“ ut, the sloop escapes, and on send the
ﬂeetest craft in these waters in c ase.

“Now where isthere a league in that to hurt
Mountjoy, or, at least, who can make a con-
spiracy out of it?”

. “ I, only spoke from our trouble with Mount-
joy.

“ Your trouble, you mean, for I had none.”

“ True: but that may go against me.”

“ Again you are wrong, for the trouble did
not a pear as your seeking. '

“ e sent the challenge, and_ who knows this
better than our friend Deering himself ?”

“ I had not thought of that.” "

“Well, you must think, for a man in your
situation must keep his wits about him.

H Now go on board and write your report,
apd I Will glance it over to see that you don’t
give any secrets away for the old eneral is as
sharp as his great-nephew, I can to you.”

They walked on to the schooner, and the re-
port of the cutting out of the smuggler sloop
was written and submitted to Captain Vail, who

said:

v“ Better than I expected of on. for I s
pond you would give suspicions details. ‘ up—
“ Now dispatch it and we’ll talk business.”

“ Business?”

“ Yes, but at rid of that report ﬁrst.”

This was one, an ofﬁcer being dispatched
With the document up to The Harborage.

 
“ Nowti Spruel, I believe you owe me just two‘

thousan dollars?"

“ Your frequent reference  i'
the amount fresh in your mommy}3 Should keep

“Ah! good, vs good; butI wishedtosayto

you that, as {2:118 ave carried out your part of

our contract, h to also do the same.

“ Whether the trial is for or a ainst Mount-
50y,»you'h_ave d 6 your duty, so Igretuin to you
your receipt for be money, and that cancels the
debt you owe me.” ‘ '

“ Indeed I thank you, Vail.” '

' “No, you need not ,thank me, for it is but

 
justice to you, and that is not half what the
capture of Mountjoy as a smuggler has cost

me.

“ If the sloop is retaken, then, unless she can
again escape, it will cost me much more, her
value, the value of her cargo and—but here I
go, betraying secrets again to you, and which
of course you feel not a shadow of interest in."

“ Now let me ask you what you intend to do
about Mountioy f”

“ Try him.”

“ True, but upon what charges?”

“ Smuggling and outlawry.” ,

“ You may have to give your authority for
believing him to be a smuggler.”

“ Ah yes, yourself.”

“That is the point, for I do not wish to be
known in the case.”

“ Who shall I give then?"

“ Let me see,” said Ezra Vail, thoughtfully.

“ Your conﬁdential clerk, Laws?”

“ Oh, no, for I wish him to know just so much
and no more.

“ I fear his head could not contain too many
secrets, for they might set his tongue to wag-

ing. ’
g “ True."

“I trust no man fully, Spruel.”

“ Thank you.”

“ Yes, not even you, for all men, in my
opinion, and it is worth a great deal to Ezra
Vail, whatever it may be to others, have their
price."

“ Egad. I almost begin to think so too,”
laughed Captain Spruel, who with two thousand
dollars canceled, and the feeling that he had.
captured a smuggler, and covered up his tracks
of hatred against Mountjoy, felt in a very good
humor.

“ I know it, for honor and dishonor are mark-
etable commodities I have found, not only for
sale by men but by women as well."

_ “glut we were discussing this case of Mount
Joy.

“ Ah, yes, as to who was your informant.”

“ True.”

“ What were the dates of your sailing in chase
of Mountjoy on both occasions?"

Spruel gave the date of his ﬁrst chase, and
that of a couple of days before.

“ I have it.”

“ Well?” "

“ I will write you two letters, signed simply
‘ An Avenging Sailor,’ or ‘ An Ex-Smuggler,’
giving you supposed secret imforination against
Mountjoy.

“ These shall be strong enough for you to have
acted upon, and pretend to come from one
who has a cause of grievance against Mount-

joy.”

‘ A good idea, and I can show these in
court?”

“ Yes, but the second one will be simply telling
you to go to sea and lie in wait near well’s

slaud for a smuggler sloop to be joined oﬂ.’ the
coast by a confederate craft.”

“I understand, and this shows why I sailed
on the day appointed for the duel.”

“ It will, and I will give you the letters to-
marrow.”

“Don’t forget, for I put much conﬁdence in
them to help me out.”

“ I’ll not forget, so drop in tomorrow.

“ Now I must be off: but if the schooner
brings the sloop back, notify me at once, for I
shall have work to do.”

“ You will keep hinting at what I should not
know, Vail.”

“ I forget that we are not both in the aﬂair
together, that it is my hatred against Mountjoy,
and you are onlyidoing your duty as a Govern-
ment ofﬁcer.

“ I’ll be more careful in future~adieul” and
with a sneer in his manner the whaler ca tain
left the schooner, to meet his clerk, ustin
Laws, who whispered something to» him and the

l

two hastened awa together in the direction of ‘

the ofﬁce of Vail Company.

CHAPTER XXXIX. ,
WHAT A srmueaa ovmannann.

SINCE he had become the conﬁdential clerk of
Captain Ezra Vail, the senior partner and full
manager of the rich whaling and shipping ﬁrm
of Vail & Company, Mr. Justin Laws' had
begun toput on airs, not to his employer as it,
but to his fellow clerks and others with whom
he came in contact.

He had always been a hard working man, in-
dustrious ma fault, and though known to be

very fond of layin by his sparechange, for a .
rainy day, he said, 9 had not been unpo ular.

But withhis salaryi creased considerab y and
often called into the p ivate oﬂ‘lce for consulta-
tion with his,employer, Mr. Laws had gotten en-
larged ideas.

He showed it to his fellow clerks by his con-
descension toward them when addressed, and
at his boarding house he was wont to turn up his
nose at what had. formerly been his favorite

3 . ;

And all this was on account of Ca tain- Ezra
Vail calling him to a special service w 'ch strict-
ly speaking was not business.

 
He had paid him well, and Mr. Laws felt that;
he was getting up in the world.

He was looking over his lodgers, the day that
Captain Vail returned to Fred Spruel his due—e
bill “for services rendered,” when a man
entered the ofﬁce and asked to See the senior
partner.

“He is out at resent, 511', but if you will take _ _
a seat Captain ail will soon be in, ’ said a clerk. .
politely. . ! 3}

His words reached the cars of Justin Laws, ; ’ n
and he called out sternly: ~ i: i

“ Mr. Martin, what do you know of the senior ii
partner, sir? ~

“ Nothing)!“ all, so do not take upon yourself
to answer, ut ask me, sir.”

Mr. Martin fell back abashed, and the visitor
came up to Justin Laws, who leant back in his
chair, frowned and put on a look of intense ini~
portance.

“ Well, old Know-it-all, where is your master
the captain?" asked the visitor with a rude;
lau h.

r. Laws thought that he heard the laugh
echoed by the clerks, but he had no time to in-
Vestigate then, for the stranger confronted him
with a look that was not prepcssessing.

He was a sailor without doubt, and had evi~
dently been drinking, Which ave him an ugly
look about the eyes which quite awed the conﬂ-
deutial clerk, who said in a voice that belied his
words:

“ Hmv dare you speak thus to me, sir, to nie,

' Justin Laws?”

The visitor again laughed and replied:

“ Mate. you don’t want to open ﬁre on me,
but to tell me where your master is, for l have.
business with him." .

“ Begone, sir.”

In answer the individual responded:

“ That gentleman yonder asked me to sit;
down and wait, so I shall do so."

With this he threw himself intr.I nn easy-chair,
and erfectly disgusted. Justin Luws got up,
seize his hat and left the ofﬁce.

He went in search of his employer to come
and deal with the dangerous-looking man; in
truth he ﬂed the ﬁeld and the suppressed lau he
tor of his fellow clerks at his retreat caused is
face to ﬂush with shame and anger. , t'

He thought he knew where to ﬁnd him, and”.
he was right, for he met him on his way from
the Vidette.

“You should have at the fellow out.” said'
Captain Ezra Vail, w en he had heard Justin  ,,
Laws’s story, with certain embellishments, of” "
the stranger waiting at the oﬁlce.

“ I preferred to leave him to you, 311',” was M.
Mr. Laws's res use. ' -

So Captain ra Vail entered his ofﬁce and I ‘
saw the visitor, who had been affordiii amuse- . 
ment for the clerks at the expense of r. Law's.

“ Is that him?" asked the sailor, towering to .
his full hight, when the Whaler merchant ens ' “1
tered,with Laws in his wake. ‘ 

He addressed the clerks in general, but one .
answered innocently: . '

“ There is Captain Vail new, sir.” ‘ . , a. .

The man looked at him as though taking his ‘ .
measure and asked rudely: . .,

“ Are you Ezra Vail?” , . ~ “*3

“ I am,” was the quiet reply. , ~

“ Then I’ve got an order on you and I want
it attended to mighty quick, for I’m no man to , ;
triﬂe with, as ou’li ﬁnd.” i

“Nor am I,’ and straight from the shoulder ,
went the right arm of Ezra Vail, and the n. ;,
doubled ﬁst met the face of the stranger with. a. ' ’ "
force that sent him his length upon the ﬂoor /
partially stunned. , g /

And on into his private oﬂElce passed the "
Whaler, while the visitor, with his face bleeding . 
arose and . looked around him in a half—dazed . 
wav. " ,, ‘

Then his eyes became wicked in their exprek’ Z
sion, and he strode toward the door of the pri-v r -:
vate ofﬁce. _ . ,

“ Better not go in there, for the captain’sa .
bad man to arouse,” whis cred a clerk. ‘

“ I have discovered t at,” was the answergﬁr‘
but the man went on his way, and opening the» .
door. said, with marked politeness‘ '.

‘9 May I speak to you. sir?” ‘ v ',

“ Certainly, if you have business with 'me; 'i.
but beware, for 1’ 1 stand no triﬂing, and if you .-
have come here for trouble, you can be accomé " r-
modated.” ~ “ ’, ,

“ I know when I’ve got enough,” was the one ,
swer.

“ Then tell me what you have come for.” . -

“ I have an order on you for ﬁve kindred ' ,
dollars.” I’ 1 "

“ Indeed! And from whom

“ From myself." ’

“Ah, and who are you!”

 
l, r

“Nick Norcrom is my name, and Iamvtho- “g
mate 0’ Will Wilder.” \ , '
“Ahl‘ I' cannot congratulate Mr. ‘Wlldet‘ .
upon his comrades. ‘ . V ‘ 4

you'to moi”

 
“He did not exactly; but he was mac-om; 
tain work, and if he and hlsman caught, a
gig: I, for ﬁve hundred dollars, was   ,V "

“ That was my arrangement with him,  “1.
didit.”_ - _ l  ~

_l ;

 
22

The Doomed Whaler.

 
“ Well, what have I to do with that?”

“ Only that he said you were to pay him for
.his work, and he would pay me.

“ Now, he expected to be caught, I guess, for
we plotted his escape before we left, and I went
through my part of the work without a bitch,
and was landed on the harbor shore when all
went well.

“Now I learn from a craft that ran in here
this morning that Will Wilder’s sloop was being
chased by the schooner sent in pursuit of. her,
and would surely be taken.

“ I cannot help Will a. second time, and as I
, did so ones, I am entitled to my pay, so come to
' a you to getit.”

" ' Captain Ezra Vail listened quietly, but there
was an evil glitter in his eyes and a dangerous
smile upon his face.

“ Is that all?” he asked, with the utmost

-_ calmness. -

J; i is It is.”

 “ And what was this craft, and who was this

5 " Will Wilder?”

.“ You know well, enough what his craft is
and who he is.”

“ Do I?”

“ You do.” ,

“ And he told you he was to get his money
from me?”

“ I'll be new with you; he did not.”

" Why di you come to me then?

“ Came, I “ ant the truth?”

“ I know’d you was the man.”

“ For what!”

“To pay the money.”

“ How did on know it?”

“ I heard ill Wilder and old bald-head in
yonder making the arrangement."

“ You overheard them 1”
a Y ”

 
“ Any one else hear them?"

is No. 1

“ You are sure?”

“ Not a soul, for it was in Will’s room at
Marblehead, and he thought I had gone out,
but I was hiding behind the curtain, for I
wanted to see if he was going to play double on
me; but he did not, for when your mate yonder
had gone he went out to look me up, andhe told

r me what I have said, only he would not mention
' any name, but that I had overheard, so you
heed not blame Will.”

“ And you heard my name?” V

“Well, yonder ﬁgure-head said he wanted the
work done, but told Will he was head clerk in
your ﬁrm in Salem, and I knew he was only a
tool for you to work with, so I came to you to
.bluﬂ! the money out of you.”

“ Well, Mr. Nick Norcross, you must know
that I do not care to have you come here as you
did, and to pay you before my clerks would look

'as though you had forced me to pay you for
some underhand work.

,“ So, come here to-night at ten, and I will
pass by and let you in, and get you the money,
" for on did do your work well.

' “ ut mind you, if you come here drunk, or
if you appear to have been drinking, not a dol-
; lat shall you have.

“Now go, and be on the o posits side of the
sin-eel: at the hour named, an when you see me
unlock my door and enter, come across and I’ll
admit you, but speak to no one about it."

_, “I’ll be as close as a clam, sir,” and Nick
Norcross departed. but the look in his face was
’ , one of sheer deviltry while he muttered:
, A“ No, I’ll tell no one. and I’ll be on hand, and
when you let me into your ofﬁce I'll see that I
u get more money than the ﬁve hundred. and
, , avenge that blow you gave me too, Ezra VaiL"

CHAPTER XL.
1' n E M E n 'r I N G .
CAPTAIN VAIL was punctual, for the com-
mander of the Vidette had been visiting him at

pulled the young sailor on isretnrn to his
ship, saying that he had some work to do and
Wished to get some papers from his private of-
‘ ﬁne to refer to.
[The two parted near the Vail wharf. and
while the captain of the cruiser went on toward
his vessel the whaler turned up the dark and
, deserted street where his ofﬁce was situated.
.. He walked slowly, his eyes on the alert, and
as he drew near his door he muttered:
“ He is there."
, The street was solely one for business houses.
and not a dwelling was within two blocks, so
no one was near to see either the merchant or
the waiting sailor.
Before leaving the inn Captain Vail had asked
, landlord Hastin s for a. messenger tosend to
v the home of Mr. ws, for him, to get the im-
portant papers. for what he wished to write
' must leave by the earl morning stage. ‘
_ Then Captain Vail ad said that he “ would
not disturb poortired Laws, but go'himself.”
n Thus it was he went part of the way with
= Qagtain Spruel.
, Aplaning the ofﬁce door he stepped within.
as dark there. but he had come genteel
with a lantern which he had gotten m the
d and carried under his cent. 2 ‘ ‘
. ., 1y had he entered when a form ,. rapid
Wmmtandsmpped ~

       
is

“ I‘m here, cap’n.”

“ So I see; come in.”

The door.was closed behind him and locked,
and then Captain Vail led the way back to his
private ofﬁce. '

The lantern lighted their way, and by it he
lit a lamp in the ofﬁce.

“Well, you are sober, I see,” said the mer-
chant, calmly.

l“ Painfully so, cap’n,” returned the man with
a ser.

“ And you want five hundred dollars?”

“Got to have it, mate.”

“ Well, I’ll have to get the money out of the
safe.”

“ I don’t care where you gets it from, so I
lay hands on it.”

“ Just wait here until I return, for I wish to
see that no one is about.

“These are perilous times, you know, and
burglars are about. ”

“ I has heerd so; but don’t sta long.”

“No, I’ll return shortly,” an the merchant
took up his lantern, and went into the large,
outer ofﬁce.

There was awindow upon one side, opening
into an alley.

This he opened quietly.

Then he went to the safe, and placed by it
a few tools, a dark lantern, and a bunch 'of

key:
turning to the inner ofﬁce, he said to the
sailor who was impatiently awaiting him:

“ Suppose I could not give you that money
to-night ”

“ Say. mate, no tricks now, for I hain’t one to
fool With."

“ But I have not my keys with me as I sup-
posed, my clerk'having them.”

“ That’s a game of bluff, for you hain’t
no fool, and you won’t find me one neither.

“ I wants the gold, and if you don’t pay to-
night, I’ll talk to—morrow.”

“ You will talk?”

ll Yes-1, ‘

“ What will you say!"

“ I’ll let it be known that the rich merchant,
Ezra Vail, is making his money by being in
league with smugglers, and set up a job, too,
upon a young skipper, who is in his way, I
guess.

“That’s what I’ll 'talk, mate, so if on wish
my tongue to keep still, just put a. go d weight
onto it, that’s all. ’

“ And that is all I want to know, my ﬁne fel-
low, for I expected as much from you. Take

a

that l”

The right hand of the whaler suddenly shot
forward, a sharp report rung out and echoed

through the ofﬁces, and the sailor fell heavily to

the ﬂoor.

Springing forward, the merchant seized from
the man s breast-pocket a pistol, and ﬁxed it in
the direction in which he had stood, and, then
he senta second bullet from his own istol in
quick succession into the brain of the sailor, who
was writhing in agony from the one that had
pierced his heart.

“ Now to give myself up,” said Ezra Vail,
with unruﬂled mien, and he left his omce, and
wended his way to the town jail.

The next morning the town paper had the fol—
lowing account of the tragedy:

“ A BURGLAR SHOT!

“ CAPTAIN Ezm Vm‘s MIDNIGHT FIGHT son. LIle
“ ONE Rosana Lass!

” Last night. soon after ten o’clock. our esteemed
merchant, Captain Ezra Vail, presented himself at
the town ail and surrendered himself to the con-
stable for aving taken human life.

“ He told his story in an unmoved manner, show-
inglwonderful nerve for a man who had just had a
ﬁg t for life.

"The story of Captain Vail is to the effect that

his pleasant worm in the inn and be “com 1 Captain Spruel of the Vidette had be ii spc nding

the evening \Vilh hhn, and having some letters to
send 0!! by the early mail, and ﬂndin .r he had to re-
fer to pa ers in his office. he escorted the com-
mander o the cruiser nearly to his ship.

“Having secured a lantern from Landlord Hast-
ings, where he is stopping, Captain Vail entered his
office to be confronted by a man who was endeavor-
ing to force open the iron safe in the outer oﬂice.

“ The robber retreated to the inner ofﬁce. Ca tain
Vail pursuing and demanding his surrender, o be
sudden met b a shot which fortunately missed
him an buried tself iii the door behind him.

“ Fortunate also was it for Captain Vail that he
was armed, or his life would have been the forfeit,
for ere the bold burglar could fire the second time
the captain shot him in the breast, and was again
{lorcgd to shoot lnm as he rushed upon him knife in

an .

“This time the show was in the head, and the rob-
ber fell dead in his tracks

“ Captain Vail then delivered himself up. and go-
ing to the ofﬁce with the constable. the window
olpgning on the alley was found open, showing how
t man had entered. and lying by the safe were
several tools and a dark-lantern. ,

“ Captain Vail was allowed to go on his own re-
cognizance to appear twin. and the community
owe him thanks for havin, ml the town of abad
and dangerous character."‘ ‘ .

Such was the story 'as told-bf the paper. and

ghgln brongtht {befcasgegétlho  capitath Euro?
a wasa once. arg , I n e p ea

l‘ justiﬁable ‘h 42?? ,” and was

  
the heft-endorse] to

     
the community, while the man was recognized
as the visitor to the ofﬁce of Vail & Co. the nay
before.

But if the community had only known the
true story of the tragedy, Ezra Vail would not
have been the hero he was looked upon as be-

in .

gut the deed was hidden under the shadows
of the night, and “ a dangerous man " to the
rich merchant was removed out of his path.

CHAPTER XLI.
ME. LAWS’S CUNNING PLOT.

NICK Noncnoss had told the truth, strange
as it may seem, for he was a man who avoided
veraCity where a lie would do as well.

He had been a neverﬂo-well sort of a follow,
and only because Mr. Wilder owed him his life,
had be taken him under his protection.

When out of money, and he could borrow no
more, Nick Norcross went to work and when
paid off went on a spree.

He found his quarters when ashore at Will
Wilder’s rooms in Marblehead.

Will Wilder was a thorough sailor, had laid
by some little money, and took life comfort-
a l

 
I}; owned a sloop in which he sometimes went
on short coasting voyages, carrying freight or
passengers, as there was a demand for.

The sloop was a rapid sailor, stanch and com-
fortable, and her skip er was proud of her.

One day Mr. Will ’ilder had a. call from a
ho hood chum. ’»

t was Mr. Justin Laws, the conﬁdential clerk
of Vail & Co.

They had a long talk together, and the result
of it was that Will Wilder said:

“ Of course ll serve you, J ustin, for old times'
sake. and I want the money as well.

” I suppose because we were once engaged to‘
gether in a questionable affair in our old home
in Maine, you came to me to do this job; but I
am glad that you did.

“ I’ll not take my sloop, of course, for I do
not wish her mixed up in any shaky transac-
tions; but I’ll go to Boston and charter one and
get a strange crew also. while, if 1 shave off my
long beard and wear a li lit-haired wig, no one
will know me. if seen, as ill Wilder.

“Then, too, I can arrange for the escape of
myself and crew, for I know the very man to
help us out, and it must he done quick.

“ Where am I to get the goods?’

“I ll give you an order on our Boston ﬁrm for
what you wish, but they are only make-believe

thin and I have in view.”

~“ All right, they shall not be lost, but you

ust take the risk of their being removed from
the sloop when captured."

“ I’ll do that.”

“ Who are you with now?” .

“ Conﬁdential clerk for Ezra Vail and Com—
pany of Salem.”

“ Ah! very rich firm, and I guess you are the
Company. if the truth were known.

" You were always a sly dog, Justin.” ,

The plans of operation were then all gone over
between the two, and this was the conversation
which Nick Norcross overheard, as he had told
Captain Vail.

After J ustln Laws had gone, Will Wilder
sought Nick Norcross and told him as much as
it was necessary to know, adding: ,

“Now, Nick, I know your cunning and cour-
age, and you must pledge me to keep sober and
you can make three hundred dollars clean money
out by your work.” ' i

“ I’m yer man, Will, and I’ll pledge you not
to drink.”

“ It’s a bargain, then, so go at once to Salem
and get acquainted with the surroundings there,
the harbor and all else. ,‘

“When the cruiser brings in somep zes as
smugglers, you are to have all in readiness to
aid our escape, mine especially.

“ Here are a hundred dollars for you to live
on and feel your way, and if you have to use
money to get us free, why go to Justin Laws
with Vail and Company and hand him this slip
of paper, and he’ll give you what is needed,”
'nnd Will Wilder handed to Nick a paper on
which was written:

“OLD Tina Marm— , _

“ Pay to my agent what money he needs to aid in I
the good work. W. W.~Jl{aibl:hsad."

Nick Norcross at once started for Salem and
Will Wilder went to Boston.

There he got a sloop, and a lot of goods, with
a crew of four men when; lawless career he seam-
ed _to be ac uaintcd with, and with his long
black heard 3 avadoﬂ! clean, and his black hair
cut class and a wig of blonde, curling hair fall-

 
Will Wilder as the man by that name from
Marblebead. . , 1.: |
When prepared he set sail. and acoupla of
auger-holes. with plugs all ready to stop the

    
shi " while an extra‘pum would I blah to
song. not the water out‘of Rio ,sloop’s  wh
he’wished to do so. 4

  
and plotted-by Mr .

,it‘into thaliandai bold  ‘,

smuggled, you know, merely to carry out a cer- ‘

ing upon his shoulders, no one would havo known ~ ‘

leak. gave him an opportunity to play “ﬂinging, :

l

, l~;.,.‘,..., "
It wa a cunning trick. devilishl ' mung '
‘9 sﬁnuwaandyhe : gar

s, . . ._
J
 ,7. .

   
._ {jg-“.mm _ ._»

 
. {Fa—m. ... ....

w.._-_...__..._...._.,_._. __.. ..

 
i

The Doomed Whaler.

* p.313 -~

 
And Will Wilder had taken all chances, and
more, had put his rescue into the daring hands
of Nick Noi'vross.

Wilder had been a lawless fellow, interested
in certain “ shady ” voyages, but he was true as
steel to a friend, and would rather die than do
what he thought mean. ,

He had a certain sense of honor, and held to
it, while he considered his lawless voyages as
fair game against the Government.

Such was the man who had been rescued by
Nick Norcross, with sloop and creW, and to the
credit of Nick be it said he had plotted the af—
fair and carried it out with only the expense of
bu ing a boat.

e had not called upon Justin Laws for
money, and more, he had remained sober.

But when the sloop and her crew were away
Nick Norcross could not resist the temptation of
a drink, and that meant a s ree.

Then the idea entered h s brilliant brain to
blackmail Ezra Vail for ﬁve hundred dollars on
his own account, and it led him, as has been
seen, to his death.

Ezra. Vail was not the man to blackmail.

 
CHAPTER XLII.
run FUGITIVES.

“ WELL, Nick, you have done it without a
bitch, and laced me under another deep obliga-
tion,’ said ill Wilder, as he took the helm of
the sloop after she was headed down Salem Har-
bor on her way out to sea.

“I did the best I could, Mate Will,” replied
Nick Norcross, proud of his achievement, as he
had reason to be.

The sloop had on all the canvas she could car-
ry, and, a ﬂeet sailer, though old, she was mak-
ing very fast time, as indeed she had reason to,
for all on board knew that the schooner and cut-
ter would doubtless be in their wake in a very
short while. ,

“ There is no fear of our not escaping, Nick,
for we can run her ashore and take to the hills,
thus getting away; but I don’t wish to lose the
schooner and her cargo, which you know was
put back on her, expecting she would be sent
with us as a prize up to Portsmouth.”

“ No, I guess you‘ll have time to dodge the
pursners: but I must leave you now.”

' “ What! you won’t go on with me, Nick?”

“ Well, no, for I left things u et in Salem, and
I’ll just get you to row in an drop me ashore,
so I can make my way back to the town before
morning."

“ All right, and then come to Boston and get
your money, for I’ll be there until my heard
gets a few week’s growth again so as to show I’m
not the smuggler that was taken, you know.”

“ Y,es, I’ll be there; at the Good Cheer, I sup-

“ Yes, that’s where I put up, and I’ll lie closo,

I can tell *ou ’
d “gut, ill, what was all this about, I won-
or

‘2 TAll what?” M h ‘

‘ his pre n ug to ave smu led oods on
board, and a 1 that?" gg g

“ As near asI can get at it, for I was not told
the reasons, it is to put a feather in the cap of
that naval captain, who is in bad she ‘ with
the authorities, as he has done nothing 0 late.

“My capture was all right, and the lie I told
u on the skipper of the schooner got him taken
a so; but he can prove his innocence of course,
and yet it will reﬂect credit on Captain Spruel.

“ That is what I got from hints let fall by my
employer, and I on] hope no harm will be done
that at young kipper Mountjo .”

“ hat if there is, so you escapes

“ Ah, that is not what I wish for—but I must
drop on here, Nick, if you must go.”

“ es,” and the rescuer got ready to leave
the boat as she ran close in ashore.

Luﬂing sharp the bold helmsmau ran so near
the shore. where there was deep water, that
Nick Norcross was able to swing himself upon
term ﬁrma, while the craft glided on without

. losing headway, and once more want ﬂying to-

ward the sea, having hardly lost three minutes
by the delay. _

“ Good-by, Nick,” called out Wilder.

“Good-by, mate, and luck to you,” was the
reply, and Nick Norcross walked rapidly back
toward the town, while the sloop swept on out
of the harbor. ’ ' '

“Now, lads we have got to run foragood
hiding-place know of, and I guess in twenty-
four hours’ time we can have this sloop in a we.
that 'her' owner won’t know her,” said Wi
Wilder, and having‘ gamed the open see, he
covered the craft with canvas, wet the sails and
kept her on at a pace that would have puzzled
the Vidette to overhaul her in that quietsea,
had she been in close‘chaso.

The inlet referred to was reached before
dawn, and the sloop was run in close ashore and
work begun upon her the moment it was day-
light, for already had certﬁp freight been re-
moved from the hold, Mr. ilder having wisel
come prepared to carry out his well—planned

scheme.

- circle edema“ sacrum“
n o. ore e 00 was

 '

Hf“. L, «.47

basin-euﬁandstonce ‘15-,

 
or] on the exposed side with a dull, rusty—looking
paint.

Her masts, which were terribly weather-
stainod, were scraped and oiled, and her long
bowsprit replaced by a stump one.

Then her fairly good sails were unbent and an
old lot of patched canvas bent on in their stead.

The other side was then painted, her cubin
outside had the color changed from brown to
blue, her topmast was housed and in many
other ways she was completely metamorphosed.

The bearded crew were then told to shave
themselves, and their hair was cut short, while
Will Wilder took off his blonde wig and put on
a false brown heard that completely changed
his appearance.

Two of the men were paid off and discharged,
with expense money back to Boston, and with
what- appeared to be a deck load of lumber, but
which was reallya dummy made with planks
taken from the hold, the soap set sail aftera
delay of but ﬁfteen hours, and headed for
Boston. -

Just after sunrise she was of! Lowell Island,
cruising along, and coming directly toward her
from the southward was the Winged Arrow
evidently on her way into Salem Harbor and
returning from her unsuccessful chose of the
vessel now so near her.

In his disguise Will Wilder sat at the tiller,
rather enjoying the danger of discovery, and as
the schooner drew near she hailed:

“ Portland, sir, and Boston bound.”

“Did you run'the coast close on your way?"

“ Yes, sir.”

“ Did you see anything of a large sloop, with
lofty topmasts, weather-stained canvas, long
bowsprit and bull painted black, upper work
white?”

“ Yes, sir, I saw her last evening of! Cape
Lights, far out and going for all she was worth,"
assured Will Wilder, speaking with the drawl
of the far Down-East skipper.

“ Which way was she heeded?”

“ Out to sea, sir; but i hope she hasn’t done
no harm.”

“ She is a smuggler and escaped night before
last from Salem Harbor, and I came in chase,
but sighted a. sloop several leagues away that
was strangely like her, so gave chase, and upon
overhauling her found I was mistaken.

“ Much obliged, good-morning,” and the two
vessels once more were put on their respective
courses, the gallant vonng ollicer commanding
the Winged Arrow little dreaming that the
fugitive craft was before his very eyes, while
Will Wilder enjoyed greatly the success of his
daring ruse. ,

“ Well, lads, that was a close call!” he said
with alight laugh, as the seemingly lubberly
craft was once more on her course.

“It was, sir, and on are a bold man," said
one of the seamen With admiration.

“ Pluck u ins nine times in ten, lads, as I have
had reason to know. i

“ Now there goes the schooner that is looking
for us, and not a man on board would believe
his e as if told this was the smuggler sloop.

“ ell, we’ll soon be in Boston, and then our
work is done,” and he added to himself:

Salem to see my old friend J ustin Laws."

CHAPTER XLIII.
A warmers.

CAPTAIN Ezna Vm gained a point in public
favor at Salem Pig having the man he had killed
decently buried lat his own expense, and ad-
vertisin for any relatives he might possess to
notigy t em of his death. '

“ t was a close call for you, Vail,” said Cap-
tain Spruel, as he sat with his friend in his rooms
the second day of the tragdey.

“ Yes, a very close call,” was the reply.

11%,“ is it not time to hear from 01 Hunns—
we

“ He has been heard f'om.”

“ Ah! what does he say?”

“ I did not hear from him.”

” Who did?”

“ The neral.”

“ The evil!”

“ He knows old ‘Nsvltte was here so commu-
nicated with him, and what he said the Lord
only knows for I don’t.”

‘ This is strange.” . ,

“You’ll think it more strange when I tell you
Deering left for Portsmouth last night."

“. Again do I say the Devil!” '

“ I have said it many times, but» profanity
does no good in this case.”

“ You are sure that he has gone?"

is Oh, yes." »

“ No mistake about it?” i

“ None, for I called on the general today,
and her very coolly informed me that he had
heard rom Commandant Hunnewell and bad

y _, dispatched his aide with return instructions.

I ventured to ask if Captain Herbert Deer-
ing; had gone, and “he replied sharply: I
fMaJor Deering was the bearer, sir.’ l'
L :2 M W“ “301.460,?” =3. ' " = '
a  we: 

 
“And then I believe I shall take a run to

 
to sifordsu h . .
w .“Yen I am: rich man,8pruel,hut
  ~

.‘3" ~‘é w
.1“. .>

“What does it mean?"

“ I do not know—only wish I did."

“ Do you think there has anything leaked
out?"

“ How could it?”

“ True, and the return of this Winged Arrow
Without catching the smuggler has been against
you; but I save my goods and don't have to pay
for the sloop."

“ Yes, you are the gainer in this all through."

“ As how?”

“ You sought the ruin of Mountjoy and it
will come.*

“ And I paid well for the work, for I can-
celed your debt, and this charter of the sloo
and 13.6!“ crew, with their escape, was no mm 1
sum.

“ You evidently got the worth of your
money."

“ Oh, yes, with Mountjoy in jail I will, for I
will have gotten my revenge, and that is swoot
to me. .

“ But you got the credit of capturing the
prizes even if one escaped, and you made back
your two thousand. so you should consider your.
self well paid also.” ‘

“ I am satisﬁed; but I don’t like this taking
(tlhe atl'air out of my hands, as the general has

one.

“1 think that is Deering’s work for I learn
that Mountioy not only saved his life, but also
prevented t e drowning of his aunt. Mrs. Kitt-
redge with her coacbman and horses."

“ his accounts for their interest in him.”

“ Certainly, and he will do all he can to prove
Mountjoy innocent and a wronged man.”

“ How can he prove it?"

“ Now that the slo: has escaped be and all
doubt, I cannot possib y see how he can 0 so.”

“ Then there is nothing to fear?" I

“ Not that I can see.” ~

“ You can trust your man Laws, who ar~
ran ed the work for you?” .

“ can up to a certain point.

' “ When that is reached I cannot.”
I it And when is that?”

“He is ambitious and a rascal.

“,He is aware that the Company of my ﬁrm
is my little boy, and he would like to become a.
partner, I know.

' “When he feels that he has me wholly in his
power he will tell me, instead of paying for his
past valuable services, to put it in t 9 ﬁrm and
make him a partner, if for ever so small an -

interest. ‘ I -

“ If I refuse he will consider it his duty to
hint to me that it will be greatly to my advan-
tage to do as he asks, before he makes it a do:

mand.”
“ And you’ll have to obey?” . . . a,
“ No, you do not know me, Spruel, it you , , ',
think any man can bully me.” > , r‘
“ What can you do to prevent his coming out
with the secret?” ' ' 
“ I Will simply have him in my power also, _
and to a greater extent than I am in his, and so‘
we’ll call it square, you see.” _‘ '
" You are a schenier, Vail; but what Will prey,
vent his saying what he thinks about me?” ‘
“ He does not know you are in my ,plot, but _, ‘
thinks I am using you as an innocent tool to ,
gain my ends.’ I I 1..
“ He is vs? kind to think so,” was the sarcas-
tic re ly oft e naval oﬂlcer. '
“ a better think so, than to know the
truth.” ‘ ' ‘ 
“ You are right, Vail, and I feel better (its: .
this talk with you. .
“ But one word more.” N
“ Certainly.” , ‘
“ This crew of the sloop—what about them!” r
“ I am not known in the matter, for laws
“milled than i f t h ted it an
“ ‘orewasone,nac,wosuspec ,
fortunate) forms he met a sudden death, so 1‘ V '“l ‘ L:-
have noth ng to fear from them.” “ -
“I am glad of that and I feel now atease. so ._
can face the trial of Mountjoy with a fearlsu ‘ -
front.”
“ When will it be?” v .
“ The general said as soon as Major Doe
ing geturned, and he heard from old Emine-
we . » . .

“ That will be in a day or two, and the 
the better.” . "’g a I ~
“ Y for the suspense will be over: but  ..
prize wi I be yours, of course." . ' .‘ - l
“ You mean the schooner?” ‘ V ‘ 3,
“Yes.” - ' . ‘
“She willbe sold for prise-money, to go to ‘
in self, ofﬁcers. and crew. ' , I
‘What doyou consider her worth!” , r  ' i
“fillinve thousand dollars, for she is s. splen d ~ .-
cra t. » ‘ ' ~  '
“ That was my re on her, and so’ consider
her sold to me for t at.” ‘ ’ .v
“ Certainly, if you wish it, but she is noting:
enolugli’for a voyager, and as a whale! would k
use ass. ' ., ~ ,-
“ I know that; but she will make an encenont
pleasure craft for my own use.’." ' ‘ .   Vn
“ Ah, yes, the very thing you nesdﬁt you»
want her for a yacht; and you are rich enough
c ‘ * ‘ ~

atoy .
not!” '
 ’

   
»‘ a.

We be P! 9 .

’24

 ‘3 ic-._‘..

The Doomed Whaler.

.‘Nn w; , p: ~  my ' ;,::,j .  1-, 4,;- ,2.
. n

(ﬁx, .,,,v ._.'w-,.».,.;~ >r1‘79 ..v,'_l ‘ v'x'v

'2’"

 
“ I have vowed my son shall be the wealthiest
man in the three Americas, by the time he is
the head of the ﬁrm of Vail & Company.
ways keep my vows," and the last words were
uttered in a tone that showed Ezra Vail meant
just what he said.

Then he added after a pause, while he seemed
in deep thought:

“ Had I possessed the wealth I have now I
could have married the one woman I ever loved,
for I could have bought her from her father, if
she would not marry me for love.

“ Mountjoy won her heart, and as she did not
wed him, she would have taken any one who
would give gold for her, or save her father from

ncial ruin.

“ She did many a rich old miser, but I am
fast equaling his ortune, and some day he may

,, die—who knows?

 ; “I married a good woman, with money, of
course, and her death a short while ago left me
free, and my little son is my idol.

“ Mountjoy is married, and some day I may
yet wed the woman I leve, and then I shall be
as near hagpy as it is my nature to be.

“ Now, run], you know me as I am, and

 
why I hate ountJoy, for I believe he was the
H _ reason of the present wife of that old miser not
 , loving me.
 ’ “ Revenge is at the bottom of all my life, you
‘ ,ysee. am a Nemesis," and Ezra Vail laughed

 harshly, a. laugh it was that made Fred Spruel

 
CHAPTER XLIV.
GRACE HUNNEWELL.

WHEN Port-Captain Hunnewell received the
dispatches of Fred Spruel, by special messenger,
7 he read them most attentively.

-" “After all, Grace, Spi-uel was right about

‘,‘ ’ that young fellow Mountjoy, for he has caught

 him at last taking smuggled goods from a con-
federate at sea," said the commandant to his
beautiful daughter, who was in his library with
him when the dispatches arrived.

Grace Hunnewell seemed pained, to learn of
Mountjoy’s guilt, and said so, for she could not
understand why any one should do a mean act
to in a living.

he next day the dispatches of General
Navitte arrived, and the commandant looked

, , puzzled.
.  came in soon after, and her father

 
said.

“My child. General Nevitte ran down to see
his niece at Salem, and took with him a promo-
tion for his great-nephew, young Deering, for he

~ has made him an aide on his staff with the rank
of major.”

“ He is to be congratulated, sir, and from all
I have heard of him he is most deserving of the
honor.

“ I have never met him, however."

“I have, and he is as handsome as a picture
and brave as a lion.

. “ He is a splendid soldier as well, has a good
fortune left him by his parents and is the heir of
his aunt and great-uncle, while he is the
youngest officer 0 his rank, as it now is, in the

army.

“ A good follow to set your cup for. Grace.”

“ Good looks and gold would not inﬂuence me.
father. but true manhood and a soldier will,”
was the reply of the lovely girl.

“ Well, here is what the general an s:

“ ‘ I send on the particulars as get them,
of this captain, but I have reason to believe that
though Captain Spruel did his duty, the young
coaster is not guilty in spite of all the ap-

' pearances against him.‘

"‘ Now, Grace, I don’t half like this, for poor
, Spruel seems to be making too many blunders.”
' , !‘ So it seems, father; but he is of age and is
considered a ﬁne oﬂicer.”

“Oh, yes; but the general goes on to say that
he does not wish to interfere in the nav aﬂ’airs
which come under my jurisdiction. but desires
that I will at once order a court to sit on the
3 case of this Mountjoy, so, if innocent he may be
 cleared without delay.”

“That is but just, sir.”

  
Z», “.Yes, and I shall do it, and write the neral
J at once that he, being on the spot, wil lease
utthe alfair in the hands of his aide, ajor

coring, who you know is friendly toMountjoy,

and so need not send anycommunication to

Captain Spruel.” '

‘ This the commandant did. and it was his be-
ing ignored by his chief, and the fact of carry-
ing a guilty conscience in his heart that had so
worried Fred Spruei until reassured by his talk
with Ezra Vail which is known to the reader.

i A couple of days after Grace had an engage-
ment for a horse not ride with a young ofﬁcer
of the navy, who was stationed at Kittery, but
when all ready. received a note from him statin
thotit was duty before pleasure and his vesse
had just been ordered to get ready for lea.
Grace liked the young ofﬁcer, and her father
had a hope that it we d be a match some day,
for lieutenant. Dunwood Proble was well-born,
rich, and a. splendid fellow withal, and when
the received the note she pointed prettin and

, voted the service really unkind to order an of-
ﬁcer away, to her disayintmont.

L, Shahowevorﬁscid to' go and get alady

l

'.;:r« V ,/

Ial-'

shudder, so much of wickedness was there in it. '

I friend to accompany her, but ﬁnding her away

i from home, set off alone on her ride.

She took a. road leading out of town toward

3 the sea-shore.

It was a lonely road, and she had never gone
that way alone before.

i But she rode on until she came in view of the

l' sea, and halted near a clump of trees to gaze

upon the rugged but picturesque scene.

A shallop lay at anchor not far away, and
ﬁlled in the picture, and a boat was half drawn
out upon the bench beyond the woods and near
a group of rocks.

Noticing some pretty wild ﬂowers growing
‘ in a. sheltered nook of the rocks she dismounted
and began gathering them, when suddenly she
started up with a half-cry of alarm as she beheld
two men within a few steps of her.

They were rough-looking fellows and had evi—
dently been the ones who had come ashore in the
boat drawn up upon the beach not far away.

That they belonged to the shallop, she had no
doubt, and in alarm she started toward her
horse, though preserving her presence of mind
the while.

She knew that there were wreckers on the
Isles of Shoals, and a lawless set of men they
were, suspected of far worse than wrecking.

Then Little Harbor, in which lay the shallop,
she had heard was often sought by law-breakers,
who were wont to seek hiding-places there for
their plunder.

She regretted having come so far, and alone;
but, determined 1:0 make the best of it, and had
reached her horse when one of the men sprung
forward and grasped the rein, while he said:

“ Hain’t you Miss Hunnewell, lady?”

“ I am, Sll‘.”

He turned at her reply, and said something in
a low tone to his companion, but which Grace
did not catch.

But the other remarked:

“ All right, if you says so.”

“ Waal, miss has a bitter grud e ag’in’ your
pa, for I serve under him once, w en he com-
manded the sloop-o’-war War Eagle, and he had
the cat-o’-nine-tails put on my back on more
than one occasion."

“ If he did, you deserved it, for my father is a
just man and a humane ofﬁcer,” was the spirited

re ly.

P‘ Well, maybe I did, maybe I didn't; but I
hain’t forgive him for it, and I don’t want no
better chance to git even than to hold you ontil
he pays evory dollar he is worth ter git yer back
ag’in to his' bleedin’ basom.”

“ How dare you speak to me so, sir?

“ Let go of my “rein, I command you i”

“ I hain’t ter be commanded, miss. ’cause I
commands.

“ Yonder shallop is mine, and I has a crew of
half a dozen good fellows, and I don’t mind tell-
ing you we is wreckers, smugglers, or anything
else we wants ter be that pays.

“ You is my prize, miss, and in this wild place
shrieking won’t do no good.”

CHAPTER XLV.
m DISPATCH-BEARER.

GRACE was white with fearlat the words of
the wrecker, but she still retained her presence
of mind, and her eyes ﬂashed ﬁre.

“ Let me tell you, sir," she said, calmly, “if
you know my father you are aware that he is
not a man to triﬂe with.

“ I am his only child. and if you tear me from
him you will ﬁnd the yard-arm your punishment
as sure as you stand there before me.

“ He is a poor men, having little else than his
pay, but though he may give up all to get me
back, he will never rest until he has avenged the
insult you put upon his daughter.”

“ Words don’t skeer me, miss, and it’s catchin’
affrorethanging, so your threats don't have any
e ec . '

“ I has done enough now ter be hanged, but I
hain't been captured all the same.

" What brought you here alone, I don’t know;
butfthere you is, and you goes on board my
cm a

“ The cabin‘s yourn, and nobody Will disturb
yer; but you remain in my charge until I bleed
the old man’s heart wit sorrow for you, and
his pocket of the last drop 0’ gold he can raise
to git yer back a ’in, and ef hahainlt got the
sum I sets on yer, t on you is far he ther adop-
ted daughter 01 ther Wreckers’ League.

“Come, now, don’t make us be rough with
yer, but go yer does 1”

Quick as a ﬂash Grace bounded away and
sped along like a deer.

If she could only outrun thetwo villains, she
was safe, she knew.

With her skirt thrown over her arm, she sped
along with wondrous speed.

But the wreckers were not to be cheated out
of their prey, and one of them leaped upon her
horse and pursued. , ,

She saw him, and doubling on her course,
ran to the rocks along the shore, where a horse
could not follow her. ‘

But by the time she reached them, she had
had along run, and her ursuer was but a bun-
dred feet away, and, h companion. who, by
her change of direction to the rocks, had cut
across an drawn near. 1 ‘ ‘

 
I

 
“:j'. / . H’s ~

 
Panting with her long run, she was no match
now in speed for the man who had mounted her
horse, and in a moment more she stopped and
turned at buy, as she heard his steps close be-
hind her.

And there was the other man also rapidly
drawing near.

“ Stand back, sir!" she almost shricked in her
terror.

The man laughed and sprung toward her, to
fall dead at her feet ere the report of a pistol
died away, and over the rocky shore appeared a
form in uniform, and with a mighty bound he
threw himself upon the other wrecker who had
turned to ﬂy.

There was a short, terrible struggle, and the
wrecker went down at the feet of the victor.

“Catch your horse and ﬂy, miss, for those
fellows mean trouble,” CI‘itd the stranger, and.
he pointed to a boat coming ashore from the
shallop, and in which were four men.

"' And 011, Sir, come with me, for you can.
mount be ind me,” said Grace.

“No; I have a comrade in my boat, and we
can beat them back. i

“ G0 at once, I beg of you.”

Grace stood undecided and seeing it the brave
rescuer sprung to the edge of the rocks and call-
ed down to some one in the boat, which the
maiden could not see:

“ Boatswain, blow your call for the cutter to
come up!”

“ Ay, ay, sirl” came the ready answer, and a
long, shrill, startling whistle arose on the air.

The order was heard by those in the boat, and.
heeded too, for the man in the stern shouted:

“ Back water, men; he has help near! ‘

:Quickl pull for your lives, or we hang for
itl

The boat was quickly put around and the-
oarsmen pulled with all their strength for the
ilehaéllop, while the one in the stern sheets hailed

on y:

“ Ho, Meigs, the cap’n and Dick is done for,
and there’s a cutter load 0' war’s—men a-comin‘
onter us.

“ Up with ther anchor, or we hangs!"

A man on the shallop was seen to spring to-
work at this startling command, and by the
time the boat reached the craft the jib was set
and the anchor had left the bottom. a

Spriuging on board two men sprung to set all
sail while the others hauled the boat up to the
stern davits, and not until the shallop was a
mile away, heading out of Little Harbor lac—-
ward the open sea did those on board discover
that they were not pursued.

A laugh from her rescuer bent the gaze of
Grace Hunnewell upon him.

She saw a man whose face was one to at once
attract attention.

Handsome, fearless, resolute and with eyes
that could fairly sparkle with fun, or blaze with
an er.

is splendid form was in the uniform of a
major of the army at that time, and as he stood,
a. pistol in one hand and his sword in the other,
Grace felt that she had never seen a. more strik-
inglsampie of splendid manhood.

is laugh. when he saw that the wreckers had
ﬂed, was full of merriment, and catching her
look he bowed and said:

“ Let me explain. madam. that there is no
cutter and crew nearer than Portsmouth that I
am aware of, and my companion in the boat is
a ﬁsherman who readil carried out my little ,
plot to frl hten those allows and make them
run, when saw that you were determined to
stand your ground.”

“I am an ofﬁcer’s daughter, sir. and would
not serk safety in ﬂight and leave a brave res—
cuer to suffer for me."

“ Well said, madam. but then you were at
their mercy, l was not.” ' .

“ I owe to you, sir, my escape.

“ Permit me to introduce myself as Miss
Hunnewell, the daughter of Port- Captain
Hunnewell, commanding at Portsmouth.”

“ Indeedl I am bearing dipatches to your
father, Miss Huimewell, and ‘my horse failing
me on the road, I took a ﬁsherman and his 51nd
at Saganiore Creek to go the rest of the way by ,
water.

“ I saw your chase, ran in and fortunately
headed off your pursuers. '

“Will you permit me to aid youto mount,
for your horse awaits you, I see.”

“ Yes, he would not desert me, good f‘ellowﬁ
but you,-sir, will you continue on in our skiﬁ?”

“ It is some distance by land to ortsmouth,
I jud e?’ ‘

“ es quite a long ride, sir.” ~

“ A'n you are alone?"

“Yes, sir.” r _. V

“ Night is not far away, Miss Hunnewell, the
wind is fair up to the town, so. let me suggest
that you accept a seat in my 31nd and allow my
man to ride your horse.”

“ I thank you, Major Deering, and I really
wished to ask it, for I fear the fright I got un— ‘
nerved me, now the danger is over.

“.But thwe unfortunate men, sir!” and she,
shuddered as she ' glanced toward the two.
wrdckggs'cni stepped; ’rdtli ' “a

or r oer ng town on an '
placedhishand onthepulseofeach. g . r _

A

  
.uﬁi

 
it?

 
“ I think I have cheated the gallows of 'ust
prey, for they are dead: but I see the shallop
has come to, so their comrades will return for
them, and we must lose no time."

He hastened with her to the skiff as he spoke,
told the man who had so promptly aided him in
regard to the mythical cutter, to ride the horse
up to tawn, and then spreading sail set out for
the run, just as he saw that the shallop was
coming back.

" We need have no dread of them, Miss
Hunuewell, for this skill? sails like a witch, and
they dare not follow us far on account of their
own safety,” and as though to verify his words
the shullop soon gave up the chase and stood
toward the shore where the two men had left
their boat, and landed to discover the fate of
their shipmates.

CHAPTER XLVI.
WELL MET.

REMEMBER. good reader, I am writing of a
time when stage coaches and sailing vessels
were the only means of transportation from
place to place.

There were no railroads, no steamers or tole-
graph, and the mail facilities were most crude
indeed.

Then .1300 our government was comparatively
in its infancy, and at ports and in ships-of—war
there was a “ one man power " that was the
head of all departments.

Today all is changed, and those of this age
must remember what it was in those times to he
a. soldier and a sailor, and with the leaders the
power was very great over the lives of those
under him.

The general in command of the coast line and
hence the seaports along it, from Montaulr to
the Penobscot River, had also control of the
cruisers on duty there, and, anxious to do full
justice to Mountjoy, as also to oblige Miss Kitt-
redge and his nephew who were sointerested in
the prisoner, General Nevitte had dispatched
Herbert Deering to Portsmouth to explain to
Captain Hunnewell the exact situation, and also
get from him the career of the young sailor while
he was in the navy.

Herbert Deering had undertaken the long
journey with pleasure. to aid his friend, and he
had pressed his good horse so hard that he had
tired him out; while yet some distance from his
destination.

But he had found good stahling for him, and
obtaining a good sea. skiff and a ﬁsherman,
pi'eSSed on by water from Sagamore Creek,
with the result already known.

His timely arrival had not only served Grace
Huunewell, but had placed her father under ob-
ligations which Hcrbert Deering just then re-
'oiced’ in, as he Wished to use it in behalf of
Mark Mountjoy.

But, after the skiff was well under way, the

shallop had put back, and there was no cause of

alarm, Herbert Deerlng turned his attention
more particularly toahis fair companion.

He had often heard of the beauty of Grace
Huuuewell, and half a dozen ofﬁcers of his regi-
ment were in love With her, and they, with scores
of others would have given much to have rend-
ered her the service he had.

He saw.a [very beautiful girl indeed, and a
riding-habit setting off a perfect ﬁgure.

Her eyes were full of expression, and purity
and nobility of nature dwelt in their dark-blue
depths. .

, Her face was still pale, and tears were in her
eyes as he gazad at her, while her nether lip
quivered slightly, sh0wing that the shock had
been a great one to her. v

As though ex ressing her thoughts she turned
suddenly her sp endid eyes upon him and said,
impetuously:

‘ Ah, Major Deering, what have I not to
thank you for? I

“ HOW can I
gratitude?” .

Major Herbert Deenng, who would not chan e
color in a forlorn hope, was taken aback, and 5
face ﬂushed crimson.

He had been con ht indulging in deepest ad-
miration of the love y girl.

He started to reply and found himself stut-
tering.

Then he laughed in his light-hearted way and

ever repay you, or show my deep

said:

“ I was thinking, Miss Hunnewell, and you
fair] startled me.

“ but were you thinking of, ‘if the
is a fair one?”

Here was a poser; but he met it bravely.

“ I was thinking of you:”

“ Of me, how strange.” '

But the soldier did not think it so strange, and

said: i
.‘ i‘ilwas thinkin that instead of being ate-
ful to me, Miss unneweli, I am deep y in-
debted to you for placing yourself in a position
that enabled me to serve you.” »
It was her time to blush now, and she said,

quickly; - I

“I am’ full of gratitude to you, put it as you
mag; but I see you are a sailor as well as a
xiclilmieig for you handle your boat with great

question

.“I have been much on the water, so have
I , , ‘

l

‘ those who were to, try

 
learned,‘aud in fact came very near entering
the navy instead of the army, but chose the
military on account of my mother who did not
wish me to live apart from her.

“ Alas! she little dreamed how soon she would
part from me forevor, and my father quickly
followed her; but see, here I am running on in
an egotistical strain. as though there was no
other theme, to discuss than myself.”

“ I, am interested, so why change the sub-
ject?

“I have discussed it, for I have tdld you all I
believe, about myself.”

“ If report says true, I think not, for it is
said that Major Deering is a most gallant
soldier, and deserves the high rank he has won,
while he is famous as a—”

“What, may I ask i” he put it in as Grace hesi-
tated. ,

“ Heart-breaker.”

“ Miss Hunnewell,_ permit me to say that I
detest a man who would triﬂe with a woman’s
love, as much as I admire a coquctte who can
manage men, if she does not become wicked in
her coquetry.”

“ I admire your candor, sir, and would judge
that you spoke from experienCe,” said Grace,
with a mischievous smile.

“ No, I have never loved any woman, Miss
Hunnewell.

“ I am heart whole and fancy free.”

She saw that his words were not intended as
a banter to her, and as she felt that they were
advancin upon dangerous ground, she asked:

“ May in uire if you come in regard to that
young sailor, ountjoy?"

“ I do, and I come to plead for a man whom
I would stake my honor is falsely accused,” and
warming with his subject, he told to Grace Hun-
newell the history of Mad Mark Mouutjoy as
he knew it.

She listened with the deepest interest, and
when they reached the town, took his arm as
an escort to her home, for night had already
come on. -

At last they arrived at the home of the old
commandant, and as Grace put her foot upon
the step, she turned and said impressively:

“Major Deering, we must save your friend,
Mountjoy, at all hazards l”

CHAPTER XLVII.
mu VERDICT.

MAJOR HERBERT DEERING returned to Salem
in a very pleasant humor, for he had every hope
gf Mountjoy’s acquittal of the charges against

1m.

He had passed a. day and night in Portsmouth
and had been overwhelmed with kindne and
gratitude from the old commandant, who looked
u on the rescue of his only child as a very daring
a air, and one that won his heart for the young
soldier.

A couple of small vessels were at once dis-
patched iu search of the shallop, Herbert Deering
giving the two ofﬁcers in command of them an
exact description of the craft and the scene
where it occurred. ‘

But they returned after a couple of days" cruise
Without having seen the shallop, and stated that
the wreckers had removed their dead comrades.

To the commandant Major Deering had told
Mountjoy’s story and gotten a letter from him
to the court at Salem to be careful and not con-

 
- demu an innocent man. ’

Then the client major started on his return,
going back n the skiii‘ to where he had left his
horse, and which he found wholly rested and
read for the road.

A] the way back to Salem the beautiful eyes
of Grace Hunnewall would rise before the soldier
until atlast he said emphatically: . ‘

“ By the gods of war; but I am in love.

“ It’s no use, I’ve got the fever.

” But Grace? _

‘f Ah! that I shall have to ﬁnd out, for I have
accepted the commandant’s invitation to visit
him in a month or so. ,

“ If she loves me I will be a happy man; if
not I shall be wretched.

“ Ah mel I am terribly afraid she is already
pledged to another.”

Arriving at Salem, the major made known

the result of his mission and showed that Mark
Mountjoy’s career had been a checkered one,
and more, he had led a wild life. '
v Nothing against A his honor stood on record to
face him. though he had twice been appointed
an oﬁcer in the navy and both times dismissed
for his wild habits. .

Then there stood to his credit the surrender of

r a private vessel to Captain Roland Monte in the

port of New Oi‘leans, and this alone would have
gained him an ofﬁcer’s berth for the third time

could 'he have been found by the Navy Depart-I

ment.

So the trial was set to begin at once, and the
next day Mark Mountjoy ,Was brought before
him for outlawry, .

He and his crew faced their act-users mentally
and his ﬁrst andsecond mates. Manning and
Roeliu, were‘determined to sink or swim with
their captain, as were also his crew.

From the very ﬁrst it appeared evident that
some strong inﬂuence was at work to convict
the prisoners._ _ j ' r

 
What it was no one knew, but it was felt all _ ‘
the time. I, l
Other smugglers and outlaws had been tried
there, but never had their case created one atom j
the interest of the “ Mountjoy Smuggler Trial,”
as it was called. ,

Alma was there, and by her side Miss Kit— '
tredge, now her devoted friend. i

The general was there also, watchin with i
hawk eyes every turn in the trial, and erbert ,
Deering sat by Mountjoy’s (lcienoer, prompting
and suggesting where he could.

Ezra Vail was also present, and his little sou ,
Rupert was with him, while of course the oﬁcer »»
who brought the charges had a prominent seat,
and he seemed to feel uncomfortable under it. ‘

After the career of Mark Mountjoy had been - ,,
picked to pieces, the last three voyages he had . - i
made were settled upon as those to condemn him

on.

He had refused to come to when ﬁred upon by '
the Vidette, and had led the cruiser a merry
chase to Portsmouth in spite of a hot ﬁre poured
upon him, and when searched there, though noth-
ing was found on board to condemn him, all the
law ofﬁcers felt assured that he had smuggled
goods hidden away on his craft.

Then his cruiser with the soldiers on board
was lightly touched on, as it placed captain
Spruel in a bad light for his blunder, and the
last trip of the Winged Arr0w was the settling
point, for the schoouer had been seen signaling _ i
to the smuggler sloop, and afterward going
alongside of her.

Thus the cruiser had found them, and on cap~ ,
turing the smuggler her skipper had confessed ‘
that he had just transferred his cargo to the I
Winged Arrow. .

Upon boarding the latter vessel the goods hag ‘9
been found there, but Mark Mountjoy had sai ~
that the sloop was in distress, was sinking, and
to save the cargo he had taken the things on
board.

But an examination of the sloop showed that
she was not sinking and she had gone on into
Salem Harbor with the cruiser and the Winged.
Arrow. ‘ .

With these proofs against the accused, the ,
prosecution rested the case.

It was necessary, the prosecutor said, to put
down outlawry upon the high sons, and so bold
had the evil-doers become that they had even
cut the smugglers’ sloop out from under the guns
of the cruiser. I

He asked thereupon the conviction of the priuw
oners, and the severest sentence that could be al—"
lowed, for smuggling was but the forerunner of
piracy. . ' ‘ ‘

Mark MountJoy, calm, digniﬁed and fearless,'.
told his story as it was. -

But no one believed it. at least the largest
part by far of those present put it down as aim—v
pi a defense. ’ ~

{l‘hen came the verdict, and cor Alma. utter-.
istinct voice" the .

   
ed a cry of distress as in a
word was spoken:

“ Guilty, and recommended to the severest »
penalty of the law!” ,

“ They went by the evidence, yet I cannot be- ~
lievelhim guilty, my child,” said General Newtte:
to A ma. ’ y j

“They went by the evidence,yes. But there is 7
somethin to fathom behind all this,” stern V,
respond Herbert Deering, and somehow. h e j
words gave hope to the heart of the or wife '
that the tide might yet turn in her bus nd’s fa~

vor.
But meanwhile Mark Mouutjoy and his nn-"

fortunate crew were sent topnson. ,

CHAPTER XLVIII.
UNDER FALSE COLORS. ,.
A MAN sat in a room at the Good Cheer Inn, *1 ,- i.
in the town of Bastion. ‘ , ‘ ‘
\ On a table at his elbow was a decanten and 
glass, at pipestem was between his teeth and he - -
was engaged in reading the mornispfdpn r which
the good old-time town then has 0 . v , 3
Papers were then far from what they. are to»
day,-but at the reader seemed to ﬁnd much to
interesth min the several copies he had 
reading over. v . ‘  ,
Suddenly from his lips broke a. vage oath, t")
and he brought his clinched ﬁst do upon the ' ,_
table with a force that made the decanter and:
glass bounce and ring. A ' , . " '-
be‘LIt shall not be! no, by Heaven! itshall not. ,3
I ‘ .1. ' 2‘ '
He uttered the words in deep, sung: . ‘
tones, and rising, paced to and fro excl 1y. - -_
“ ﬁnd that is the men they have, condemhéd.‘ ,
is it’ . , , " I
“ If I had but known his name, and who‘hﬁ;
was on that n ht, it should not have beeuyond ‘. \,
lswear be She. not suﬂer ML .  ‘ ' ‘. ‘;.
“No,.l go at once to do ju tice, to prove that,
Iamno‘craven. ' - ‘ ' " -
“ His face seemed so familiar that night, and
yetIcould’nohplaee him than“ ‘ ' _ i J W
El do tagging: Ibsgﬁll at." d 3' ”‘ . 
este o e -ro 'an gave 
that hroilght a servant ﬂying to his room. '.
v “ Mick, whendoes the stage leave for Salem! '
town?" ‘ ' ‘ ” .
“ To-morrow morning, rur,_nt dawn, it's‘afug
Paving; but was yer Honor molt, cur-i” I ' )1

 
\

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26 I ”

" " mama Wh'éi‘i.‘

 
“No, why?”

“ You looks it, ear, for yer face is after bein’
pallelnand yez jist jerked that bell cl’ane off the
we .

The man laughed and said:

“ I must 0 to Salem, so see if there is any-
thin to sai to-day for that port.”

“ is, sur.”

“ And then see if there is some vehicle going
that way, if no craft leaves.”

“ I’ll do it, sur, this blessid minute.”

“ You will never do it if you stand there—q:
here, this may grease your shoe soles,” and he
tossed him a piece of silver which sent Mick off
like a. rocket.

'In half an hour he was back again.

“ A sloop is after sailin’ at noon, sur.“

The man glanced at a handsome gold watch he
wore and said:

“ That gives me two hours and a half.”

“ Yis, sur."

Then he stepped to a window which gave him
a and view of the bay and said to himself:

‘ The wind is from the southward and blowing
a ten—knot breeze, so the run will be rapid.

“ Mick, what kind of a craft is it?"

“ A trim coaster, sir—The Nadle they calls

r.

“ The Needle! I’ll take her, for I know her.

“ Now go to Belshazzar the Jew and tell him
to come hem at once."

“ Yis, sur.”

“ Tell him the sooner he comes the more money
it is in his pocket.”

“ I’ll do it, sur.”

“ And the sooner you get back the uicker
you’ll earn the fellow to that silver piece gave
you.”

“ I’m gone.” ,

And in spite of half a dozen bells ringing in
the ofﬁce for his services, Mick went sailing
through on his errand.

In ten minutes he was back again, and soon
followed Belshazzar the Jew.

“Ah, gintlemans, you ves Sent for me, I pe~
lieves?” said that worthy as he entered, and he
rubbed his hands over each other with the air of
one who felt there was business to be done.

“ Well, I am changed, old Israel, if you don’t

r know me, after all the money you have cheated

me out o .”
“ Solomon’s Temple! it vas t’e capt’ins.”
“Yes, but curb your surprise and talk busi—

‘ “ I wish a perfect disguise.”

“ You vas so disguise now dot—”

“ I am known in my present appearance to
those among.r whom I am going.

“Talk nick and say what it shall be.”

“ An 0 cer’s uniform?”

“ No, for I shall have to explain.”

“A woman’s dress—” -

“ Bah! a. woman six feet high.”

“ Veil, vas you a Catholics?”

H No.”

“ How was a priest’s robes?” .

“The very thing, but will it be sufﬁcient?”

“ Shave ourselves clean, mine fri’nt, and
may? I gi you von vig of white hair.”

‘ hat’s it, and a priest’s frock and hat.

“ Don’t forget the cruciﬁx and beads, and for-
tunately I was an altar-boy when I was a young“
star, so know the service by heart.

“ I’ll _ ay for you, old Israel, in the best of
Latin i you’ll fix me up just right.”

“ I vas not needing any prayers, mine fri’nt,
tho’ I t’anks you kindly.”

“ No, you are beyond the power of prayer,
Belshazzar; but hurry away and bring me the
things here within the quickest time Possible, for
I am to sail at noon.” .

“ You vas going avay l”

“ Yes; and I wish you would do the same.”

" I vas gone, and—"

“ Holdl as you go through the oﬂice, hail Mick

" and'tell him to run up to this port under full

sail, for I want him.”
“ Yes, mine fri’nt,” and the Jew had hardly
disc red before Mick put in an appearance.
" “ ick, go down to that sloop, the Needle,
and engage me passage on board to Salem.
“Here is the money, and then, half an hour
before her time of leaving, come here for me and
open the side-door down-stairs so I can leave
without attracting attention.” '
“ Yis, yer Honor.”
Within an hour the Jew was back again, and
be found his customer cleanly shaven and ready

' A for his priestly robe.

“ Here, was t’e very t’ings, mine fri’nt; but it
was expensive.” ‘
" Plague the expense just now, old Israel, and
' me out if you want my prayers.”

a Jew quickly obeyed. and when the wig of
subwy bur was put on and the ﬂock concealed
his form, the disguised man looked indeed like a
priest, for he put on an expression to accord

* with his cloth.

t

“ What’s my name, Israeli” ‘;
‘ “ Mine gootness! vas you forgot your names,

, capt’inl”

I mean my new name, for you ought to fur-

’ nish me one.”

“ Names vas oxpensive, mine fri’nt.”
~ “ Yes, when you sign one that is not your
own; but how Will Father Wildermere do?”
\

“ Dot vas so pretty.”

“ I am glad you like it; but let me pay you,
for Mick will be up in a few minutes for my
hand-bag, and I don’t wish him to ﬁnd a priest
of his church in such close contact with the—
devil l”

The Jew laughed, but it was because he added
tden .lper cent. to the bill for being called the

ow .

Then he departed, and a few minutes after
Mick entered the room to start back and cry out:

“ Howly Moses l”

“ No, Mick, old Moses has just left; but there
is my carpet-bag, and if you don’t get me on
board the Needle in time, never a prayer do you
get out of me for your guilty soul. ’

In a. quarter of an hour more and Mick was
bidding “ His Riveriuce” farewell and wishing
him a good voyage as he stood on the pretty
sloop Needle, Salem bound.

CHAPTER XLIX.
FATHER WILDERMERE.

MR. JUSTIN Laws came out of his boarding-
house picking his teeth with the air of a man
who had enjoyed his breakfast, and was in good
humor with the world and himself in par-
ticular. .

His hours were half an hour later now at the
ofﬁce, since he had been advanced, and he made
it a rule never to arrive a minute too soon.

No, his services were too valuable for that,
and he would not infringe upon his own time.

The trial of Mountjoy was over, and Captain
Vail had run oil“ to G— and to Boston, to
have a look at his other homes.

He had gone away apparently satisﬁed with
the manner in which things had gone, and yet
he had said to himself:

“ I wish they had hanged him.

“ But should he escape it will come to that,
for he’ll take to piracy, or I am greatly mis-
taken."

Mr. Laws was left in full charge, and a very
handsome present had been given him for his
valuable services for his master, while he had
been told to pay promptly all his pledges for the
work done by Will Wilder.

Justin Laws at once made his fellow clerks
feel his authority.

When before they had found him not a bad
fellow, they now disoovered him to be more se—
vere than was Ezra Vail by far. '

He spoke to them, as though he was confer-
ring a favor, and found fault with the slightest,
triﬂe that went wrong.

He ensconced himself in the private oﬂﬂce of
Ezra Vail, and got a bell to ring when he needed
ling one to wait upon him.

e had been told by Captain Vail to purchase
the Ivy Lod e, for it would surely be for sale,
and also to uy the Winged Arrow, which was
to be put up for the prize-money.»

Leaving his boarding—house that evening, Mr.
Laws had given his landlady notice that he
should give up his room at the end of the week,
as his duties were such he must he nearer the
Emce, so he had secured rooms at the Salem

nu.
Landlady Hettswas in tears over this sudden
shock, for she hated to lose a, boarder, especially
Mr. Laws, whom she had set her cap to catch,
and now saw slipping out of the net.

She was enjoying a real good cry in the par-
lor, when Margaret, the red-headed servant-girl,
ushered into the room a Catholic priest.

Mrs. Bette uttered a startled cry, bowed low
to the priest, with:

“ Your blessin , father,” while she ave Mar-
garet a look in w ich there was a wor d of pro-
flaniity and wrath to come, at catching her as she

a . ~

“ I hope you are not in sorrow, my good wo-
man!” said the priest, in a sepulchral voice wor-
thy of a burial.

“ I have had bad news, father; but be seated,
please, and it is me that you wish to see?”

“ I always wish to see the good and the bean-
tiful, my child "—Mrs. Betta became all smile
at this-5‘ but just now I am here to see Mr.
Justin Laws.”

“The hateful old thing, he’s just left here
and gave me notice he was to leave, and, board
at the inn, and I had just gotten new curtains
for his room, and was embroidering him a pair
of slippers.” .

“ Ahl I hope he is not tting frivolous, that
he goes among the wor dly to lod e, away
from this dove’s nest of a home, an more, I
hope that he has not been sinful enough to
triﬂe with your young and,tender affections,
for I found 'you in tears, my dear child—in
tears!” \ ‘

Landlady Bette gave the priest credit for
bittling the bull’s-eye the ﬁrst shot. But she
sai : ‘
v “I am a lone widow, father, but know how
to protect myself.

“ It is truethat Mr. Laws has been ver at-
tentive, but no more, I may say,” and rs.
Betts blushed. ~

Then the father asked with an emphasis on
the my child that tickled Mrs. Bette amaz-

 
child

 
mglgi _
' “ é!” you' say Mr. Laws was not in, my

 
“ He ‘has gone to the ofﬁce, father, not a
quarter of an hour ago.”

“ I shall seek him there then, but I hoped to
ﬁnd him at home.

“ Perhaps it is as well that I did not,” and the
landlady failed to see the signiﬁcance of the
words, for the holy father had read at a lance
that whatever had gone on in Justin aws’s
room she would have been cognizant of.

“ You are an old friend of Mr. Laws, father,
for I have heard him speak of you so often,” said
Mrs. Betts, with no blush at the ready lie she
was uilty of.

“ es, we are very old friends, for we were
boys together, and it was from his letters of you
that led me to think you were betrothed to him;
but he is bashful, and only needs persuasion to
come out as his heart dictates; but he loves you,
I am sure he does, for he has told me so,” and
with this the priest left the landlady half wild
with delight, while he laid up for the unfortu-
nate Justin a “scene” when he should again see
the Widow Betts.

Going down into the t0wn, as though familiar
with the place. he made his way to the office of
Ezra Vail & Company.

The clerks saluted him politely as he entered,
and in return his sepulchral ‘voice uttered the
words:

“ My blessings upon you all.

“ I would see Mr. Justin Laws,” he continued.

“He is in his private oﬂice, sir: please follow
me,” said a clerk, and disobeying his instruc~
tions to admit no one without ﬁrst announcing
him to the august conﬁdential clerk and
manager, he threw open the door and the priest
stepped within the sacred precincts of Mr.
Justin Laws‘s sanctum.

The visitor was “ Father Wildermere.”

CHAPTER L.
THE PRETENDED PRIEST PAYS A VISIT.

HAD 8. horse been turned loose in the sanctum
of Justin Laws. he could not have been more
starﬁed than at beholding a priest.

He was a good Presbyterian, and seemed to
fear that the visitor had some designs upon
changing his creed, or attacking his purse, each
to be dreaded, for though Justin Laws passed
the hat in. his own church, he never gave a red
penn himself, though he always made it appear
that e did to those who happened to have their
eyes upon him.

At eight of his visitor he forgot his new-ﬂedged
dignity and rose quickly.

“Did you wish to see me, sir, or is it Captain
Vail you called on? but he’s away, sir, in Boston,
left here but a few days ago, and when he will
return, I really cannot tell you, so you see it
would] hardly be worth your while to wait.

“ But if you—”

“ My son, a prattling tongue showeth a rattle-
brain, so calm your troubled soul and let me
speak, for I have much to say to thee.”

The clerk was startled at the sepulchral voice,
and more so when the visitor threw himself into
his own easy-chair with the air of one who in—
tended to make himself at home just then.

“Well, sir, how can I serve you, for I am
very busy this morning.” -

“ You were reading a paper when I came in,
so if you can ﬁnd time for such worldly pleasures
you can spare me a few hours." ‘

“ Hoursl oh, Lord 1”

“ Profanity! oh! my son! my son!”

Poor Laws was nearly beside himself, for the
visitor was in his easy-chair, had quietly taken
up a cigar he had laid on the desk for himself,
and laced it unlit between his lips. "

“ beg pardon, sir, but I meant not to be pro-
fane but—”

“ My name is Father Wildermere, and we
were boys together, J ustin Laws." 1

“ The deuce we werel I mean that—”

“ Hal hal hal” broke in Father Wildermere,
with a hearty laugh. ,

Then, as he saw the look of abject misery on
the face of Justin Laws, he said:

“ Sit there, Justin, for I have something to
say to you. ,

“ Have you forgotten your old boyhood chum,
Will Wilder?”

“ Great Heavensl I know you now, but with

 
.that graveyard voice, that priestly garb and

white hair, how could I recognize you, Will i”
and Justin Laws seized his friend’s hand and
wrung it heartily. _

“Why, it the dev11 had come for you, you
could not have been more alarmed, Justin; but
I am here on business.”

“ Doubtless, and I am ready for you.”

At Goal!”

“ When did you get here?”

“ Before dawn on a sloop from Boston.”

“ You are at the hotel?” '

“Yes, and called on you at your boarding *
house, but found you gone. . ' ’

“ But Justin ?”

“ Yes, Will.”

“ it found your landlady in tears.” .

“Hang herl”.

“ It was on ‘your account, because you were i.
going to leave, she told me; but I cheered her
by telling her that you loved her, and—”

“Damnation! did you tell her this,me ' ' ‘l

Wilder?”

 
-k~.

 
I The“ Doomed" Whaler;

2'7

 
“ Don’t swear before one of my cloth Justin
Laws, for it pains me to hear profanity.’

“ Nonsense! did you tell that old cat what
you said 3"

“ Of course I did, for she began on me with a
lie, telling me she had heard you speak of me so
often, and I just gave her something to think
of, and how tickled she was.”

“ I’ll never dare go there again," said Laws,
dismally.

“ Bah! she loves you l"

“Am I blind? have I not seen it?”

“ She’s not so bad.”

“ Bad! she’s the devil!"

“ Well, I’m sorry I paved the way for a. row.

“ I‘ll go with you and—”

. “ No you don’t, for I know you of old, Wil-
liam Wilder, and you would make it ten times
worse.”

Will Wilder laughed and then said:

“ Well, to business, now.”

“ I am ready.”

“I did your work well.”

“Yes, without a ﬂaw; but it was a. nice fel-
low ycrau sent to get you out of the scrape.”

H ho?"

“ Norcross.”

“ Ah! what do you know of him?”

“I was on the water and saw him go out to
the sloop the ‘night of the escape, and the next
day he came into the ofﬁce intoxicated, asked
for Ezra Vail and raised a row, or would have
done so had I not frightened him.”

“ Indeed! I didn’t think Nick was a man to
scare easﬂy; but I am amazed at what you tell
me, and I shall see that he gets no more work
from me.”

“ I guess so, for he’s dead.”

“ Dead 1” and Will Wilder sprung to his feet.

Quietly slipping into the comfortable chair
which he had just vacated, Justin Laws said:

“ Yes, he came here at night to rob the safe;
but Captain Vail had got some papers from his
oﬂice which he needed, and coming here, found
the man With lantern and tools breaking into
the money-box.

“ Your man ﬁred upon the captain, but
missed and was shot dead.”

Will Wilder sunk into a chair, not noticing
the change made by Justin Laws, and said im~
pressively:

“ Poor Nick, he was drinking, or he would
never have done that.

“ No, he was no burglar, not that, not that!”

Then he asked:

“ Where is be buried?”

“ In the cemetery, far Captain Vail gave him
a good burial at his expense. ’

“A man who takes life can aﬂord to look
after the corpse,” was the bitter reply of
Wilder. -

Then he said: .

“Well, I cannot blame Vail‘ but let us see
how we stand in money matters.”

“ I owe you just two thousand dollars, and—”

“The charter of the loop, pay of the crew,
provisioning her and minor expenses were six

undred, and Nick was to get five hundred
while I advanced him one hundred—that will
make twelve hundred and ﬁfty.”

“ Will you want the money Norcross was to

“ Of course I will—why not?”
_As Mr. Laws did not know why not, he was

eat.

“ That leaves me clear for myself about seven
hundred, for I shall send N orcross’s share, every
dollar of it, to his poor old mother.

“ I may be an outlaw, Justin, but I have
honor, even if you call it the honor among
thieves.” ’

“ I believe you, Will; buthere is your money,”
and Justin Laws went to a money-drawer and
counted out the cash. '

Placing it in his pocket, Wilder said:

“Now, J ustm, I have a secret to tell you, and
prepare yourself for a surprise,” and the pre-
tended priest drew his chair close up to that of
Justin Laws, who felt a shiver run through his
hegrt at fear of coming evil, of he knew not
w at.

I

CHAPTER LI.
AN OUTLAW’S nouoa.

“ WELL, Wilder, what is your secret?” asked
Justin, anxiously, as though dreading the sus-
pense of waiting. _ _

The pretended priest put his money away and
said, quietly: _ , . ‘

“ I would like to know.]ust what your inter.
est in this smuggling aﬂair was?”

“ That I cannot tell you.”

“Were you working for your own interests,
or another at”

“ vWain I decline to speak.”

“ ell, what was the motive of it all?”

“ I will not tell.”

“ Justin, I have made a. grave error.”

. M How?”

“ I have made a cruel mistake.”

“ In what way

“ What was the result of this aﬂ'air after our
coca ” ,l

“ Egﬁsfactory.”

“ To whom i”

- “ To the parties interested.”

:: éhl ’then there was a trial, I believe?”
es. ’

“ And an innocent man and his crew, equally
innocent, were sent to prison."

“ They were proven guilty.”

“Of what?”

“ Breaking the laws.”

“ Doing what?”

“ Smuggling.”

“ Nonsense!"

“ I say they were.”

“ And they were sent to prison?”

H Yes. 77

“ For how long?”

“ Ten years for the skipper, and seven for his
crew.”

“ They had a fair trial?“

“ Perfectly so.”

“ Who were the witnesses against them?”

“ Captain Spruel of the cutter, and his of-
ficers.”

“ Any one else?”

“ There was no need of it.”

“ What did they testify?”

“ To what does all this tend, Wilder?”

“ I will tell you in good time.”

“ Why not now?”

“ Answer my question.”

“ What is it?"

“ What did the cutter’s captain and his crew
testify?”

“ That they caught Mountjoy receiving smug—
gled or piratical goods on heard his vessel.”

“ hat else?”

“ Hang it, man, why did you not come to the
trial?”

“ I was a fugitive and could not be there; but,
I wish to Heaven I had been.”

“ What for?”

“ To tell the truth I”

J ustiu Laws sprung to his feet, and turned
very pale.

“ You do not mean that you would have be-
trayed my conﬁdence, Will i” he said in a quiver-
ing veice.

‘ Oh, no; I betray the conﬁdence of no man.
I assured you I was honorable in my way.”

“ What would you have done then?”

“ As I said, tell the truth.” ,

“Will Wilder.”

“ Yes, Justin.”

“ This beating; about the bush is not right be-
tween you and me.”

“What do you wish?”

“ To know what you would havo told.”

“ I would have told them that Mountjoy was
not uilty and—”

“ nd thus have spoiled all.”

“Aha, that is what I was after, to know that
the imprisonment of this man was the real cause
of this whole plot.

“ He was wanted out of the way, and your
cunning accomplished it, Justin.”

The conﬁden_tial clerk bit his lips. He saw
that he had been led to commit himself by the
shrewd outlaw.

“ Well, granted such was the case.”

“ I would never bend myself to wrong an in-
nocent man, as you have wronged him, and
who?”

on are gettin ver virtuous as on row
older, Wilder.” g y y g
“ No,I am just; thatis all. But this must not
I Justin.”
‘ What must not be?”

“That this man shall be imprisoned.”

“ He is in prison now.”

“ He_ must be let out.”

Justin Laws was again on his feet, his face
white with terror.

“ What would you do?” he as .

“ I’ll tell you what I shall do. I’ll confess the
truth 1”

The clerk fell back in his chair as though he
had received a blow, and just then one of the
ofﬁce he s put his head in the door and began:

“ Mr. aws, there is—”

Then came a yell of terror from the boy and
he ﬂed, Just dodging an ink stand that was
hurled at him.

“ My son, let not (your angry passions rise,”
gggested the preten ed priest in his sepulohral

nos. ‘

“ See here,'Wi11 Wilder, we must understand
each other ”

“ The sooner the better, my dear Justin.”

“ What did you mean by saying you meant to
confess all?"

“ I’ll tell you in my own way.” '

“ Pray do so.”

“ The man's name is Mountjoy, I believe?”

it Yes.”

“ He has a wife and cnildreni”

“ I believe so.”

“ You know so, and, let me tell you, I have
seen his broken-hearted wife, for I went there
before I called upon you.

“ I pretended to be a. friend of her husbandsl,
and heard the whole story.

” Now let me say that I know the man also.”

“You met him on his schooner.”

_“ I met him before that, but did not recognize
girlhttpen, and I’ll tell you that I owe him a big
e .

 
. “ hen you should beglad he is out of the
way.” .

bringing misery on that noble man.”

 
“ No for the debt I owe him is my life.”

“ What?”

“ It was in Havana. He was a middy then.
I had been captured by a lot of Spaniards who
accused me of being a pirate. They would have
garaied me, when that middy came along.

“ He saw that I was an American, heard what
was going on, and boldly sprung among the
crowd with his drawn sword and released me,
telling my captors that I was one of the seamen
of his vessel, and he would kill the man that.
dared touch .me again.

“ They believed they had made a mistake, all- ‘
though I confess to vou they were right, and
Midshipman Mark ountjoy marched me off
with him.

“ He took me on board ship, saying that I was
to bear some packages alone for im and at.
dark went with me on board a craft he had sent
a seaman to get a berth on for me.

“‘My man, you may be a pirate,’ he said to
me, ‘and the chances are two to one that you
are, but those cut-throat Shaniards would garote
an American, so I helped you out.

“‘ Have you any moneyi‘

“ I was obliged to confess that I had not.

“ Well, he gave me forty dollars and we part--
ed, and I am the one that put him where,he now
is, in prison, and caused his beautiful Wife to
suffer so deeply. .

“ I tell you, Justin Laws, all the powers that
Vail & Company and you can brinﬁ to bear,
with Captain Spruel thrown in, she not pre-
vent me from releasing that noble man,” and
the sailor brought his hand down on the table
with a force that fairly frightened Justin Laws.
“ My God, Wilder, don’t get excited, and I’ll
help on.” I

“ e'll aid him to escape, you know.”

“ Not 1, for escape leaves the stain of dishonor
still upon him. _ g

“ He shall go free out of that prison, Justin
Laws, with the charge of outlawry against him
proven to have been false.

“ I swear it upon an outlaw’s honor. as I
swear it by yonder Heaven above!" an t 9
words and manner of the stran 6 man fairly
amused the conﬁdential clerk of ail & Comm
pany into a fit of abject misery that was painful:
to behold.

 
CHAPTER LII.
our on BONDAGE. .

“ GREAT God! Wilder, you will ruin me yes,
ruin all, h your reckless work,” at last ustin
Laws crl in terror.

“ Oh, no, Justin, don’t you fear. for I shall!
not betray you.”

“ How can you help it?”

“ I shall be the sacriﬁce.”

(t Yes.” '

“ What would you do?”

“ Go and deliver myself up and state that the
story”of the young skipper and his men was
true. i ,

“ You are a. bigger fool than I took you to

l?

u Whyapr . .

“ Th y will throw you into prison.”

“ 1 k ow that.” ‘

“ And you will sacriﬁce yourself to save
Mountjoy ” ’ »

“ I will.”

“And rot in prison?”
~ “Oh. no.” ‘

“ What do you mean l”

“ I’ll escape.”

“ It is not an easy thing to do.” .1

“ I know that, but I’d give myself up if I
knew I could never escape, as an atonement for '

on are a queer one.” ~

“ I know you cannot understand me, but you
must help me.”

“ quit my head in the lion’s mouth with ,
yours .

“ No. and don’t get satirical for it angers meg, .
Justin.” .

“ How can I help you?”

“ To escape.”

“ I cannot.”

“‘ You must.”

“ I say I cannot.”

“ You plotted in game so cunnin
Mountjov that you must try your hen
save me.” .

“ I can do nothing.”

5‘ Listen to me.”

“ I am all attention.”

against

“ I shall go, as I said I should, and givemy-  _,:_

self up.”

agdnmx

“ I shall say that I escaped, but learning that f . ‘

Captain Mountjoy had been imprisoned with
his crew, I came to surrender myself'asr'tho =

guilty one, and to state that neither he orsny ,1. x

of his crew ever did one single set that was ;.

I

wrong.” , -
“I shalljtell that I signaled him.,thinking it
was 3
mistake, termined to seize his beautiful
schooner, which I recognized, and so played 03 .
that my sloop was leaking, and thus got‘mr
plunder on board. . . . ‘
“Then I wished to save the sloop also, and ‘
was going to hail him to send several of histmen

" crate of mine, and learning my;

 
,, I.

‘28

on board, after I got there, so as to seize them
or kill, when the coming of the cruiser captured
me.

“ Hoping to esoaipe, by sending the cutter
after the schooner, told him that she was my
ally, and my cargo on board proved it, as it
were.” .

“ But this will be a lie.”

“My dear Justin, a man who can cut a throat
and smuggle, should not be squeamish about ly-
ing, espeCially when it will save a life.

“ This is my story, and it will set Mountjoy
free, and then you must do as much for me.”

“ If you are such a fool as to give yourself up,
I’ll not help you out.”

“ Justin Laws, my story in nowise injures
you, or compromises you, and I say you shall
be} me.” '

’ ‘ Shall?"

“ Yes, you shall pledge yourself to get me out
\of prison, and if you refuse, I pledge you I shall

tell the whole story of how you, Ezra Vail, and
Captain Spruel, for reasons best known to your-
selves, conspired to wreck the life of Mark
Mountjoy.

“ I’ll let it all out, so help me,'Godl”

“ I’ll save you—I’ll get you out! Indeed, I
will! I ledge my word, I willl” excitedly Cl‘led

I .Jusatiu aws, and, with a smile, the outlaw
sai :
‘f So be it!
“ Now, have here tonight a package of cloth-
ing. for if I go in this garb, after visiting you
here ‘it will compromise you.
‘ ti “I am careful of your honor, you see, J’usr

n.
“ I want a sailor’s suit, and I’ll leave the ho-
tel, as it were, as a priest, and coming here with
you, can make the change, and g3 to the jail as
a sailor, and give myself up. 0 you under-

stand?”
“ Yes. But will nothing change you from
your determination?”
“ Nothing.”
. Justin Laws sighed, and feelin convinced
’ that hewould not fail him, Will ilder took

' his leave.
‘ Passing out through the ofﬁce he again
 bestowed his blessin upon the clerks, and then

V sought his room at t e hotel.

At night, after nine o’clock, he joined Justin
Laws at the office door, and when he came out
half an hour after he was dressed as a sailor and
' no longer wore his white wig.

“11 deposited iny money and valuables with
Landlor Hastings, Justin, as Father Wilder-
mere, telling him I. was going on a cruise that
would take some time.

“ But let me tell you that I don’t wish you to
let that cruise I am going on last too long.”

_“ I will do the best I can.”

“Oh, I won’t be unreasonable but after a.
month has gone by if I am still inside prison
‘ Walls, I’ll begin to jog your memory of the past
, 1 in a way that will make it unpleasant for you.

“But we wont quarrel old friend, just as I
am gag into a living tomb as it were.

, “ o -by, Justin, and luck to you as long as

I you do not forget me.” ,

'He shook hands with Laws, and turnin ab-
ruptly away Went up into the town an soon
appeared at the jail door. ,

After a talk with the keeper he passed within
’the walls of a prison, a sacriﬁce to his gratitude
*. ‘ to Mark Mountjoy, for a favor rendered long

V , years before.

. The next morning while at breakfast the trio
at The Harborage were broken in upon by Cap-
tain Spruel’s5 appearance, who re orted the
startling fact that the smuggler chie had come
and surrendered himself rather than allow inno-
cent men to suffer, and his confession, written
., out, had' been sent to the commander of the

Vidette, who at once brought it to the general

to act upon.

, The general, Herbert Deering and Fred Spruel,
went together to the jail and held a long talk
with. the smuggler chief, and were convinced
that he told the truth, at least two of them were
for the commander of the cruiser well knew ali

. the while, and congratulated himself that no
one-else seemed to be aware of the fact.

‘,‘ Major Bearing?”

1 “Yes, general.”

_ “ Write out an order releasing that wronged

manand his crew, and go yourself to the State

Prison and release them—then esoort Mountjoy
‘ "to his home, and in my name, for I will take the
- responsibility of doing so inwte the captain and
, his Wife to dine at The arborage with us to-

morrow.” .

The young major saluted and went to obey
ftbe pleasantest command be had ever received,
«and «soon after Mark Mountjoy and his crew
’were free men, out of bondage. and while his
mates and men went on board the Winged Ar-
, row and took possession, the wronged skipper

: 'X was escorted to his home by Herbert, Bearing.

_. x ” CHAPTER LIII.
-. , rm! DUEL.
‘ IT was the second day after his release,me
hmdtbal; Mark Mountjoy honor; Egg-bertgeﬁr-
Jag . a ong conversation e r in e 't-
156 arbor at Ivy Lod

    
8‘9- 2.
r The remit of this interview was that the gal-‘

, w 3:3.- Px;  _. 1,_ v. 4 x ', .v, on v up, , “4,1,, ,

’ The Doomed Whaler.

lant major made his way on board the cruiser
Vidette and was invited into the captain’s cabin
when he sent his name.

“ Be seated Major Deering.

“Captain Vail you know?” said Spruol, for
the merchant Whaler was with him, having ar-
rived in Salem that morning.

Major Deering bowed to the merchant and
said:

“ Captain Spruel, when friend Mountjoy was
arrested under false charges, you remember that
there was an affair of honor between him and
yourself left unsettled.

“ I now come to demand that you meet him,
as before agreed, at Naugus Head, at sunrise
to—morrow, if convenient, for by going there
under cover of the night we will not attract the
attention of the curious.”

Fred Spruel hit his lips in a vexed way, and
after a. minute of meditation said:

“ What do you say, Vail, for I suppose I must
meet this fellow?”

“ Sir I ” and Herbert Deering was upon his
feet in an instant, his eyes ﬂashing ﬁre.

“ I retract the epithet, sir, for as he is your
friend I had no right to so speak of him.”

“ I ave before intimated, that if Captain
Spruel sought a meeting'with me, as his actions
have more than once indicated, I am wholly at
his service when the duel on hand is over.”

The oﬂicer bowed, and Captain Vail re-
marked: /

“ Let us agree upon it, Captain Spruel, as
Major Deering desires?"

“ Very well, I am content.” and at his words
Herbert Deering bowed coldly [and left the
cabin.

That night the Winged Arrow got under way
and headed seaward, overtaking on the way the
gutter from the Vidette with a small party on

card.

By the time that Mark Mounth and Herbert
Deering reached the ground so acted for the
meeting, the cutter arrived, and the day was
just dawning.

In the cutter were four oarsmen and a cox-
swain, with Captain Spruel, Ezra Vail and the
Vidette’s surgeon in the stern sheets.

The sun was rising when both parties met on
the ﬁeld and the blades, rapiers, were placed in
the hands of the duelists.

Mark Mountjoy was as unconcerned as though
a locker—on apparently; but in his eyes shone a
revengeful light that boded evil to his enemy.

The naval oﬁicer was stern-faced and wore a
wicked look that indicated his intentions toward
the man he had erV god.

The blades crossed with a clang that made
the sparks ﬂy, and instantly the ﬁght became
determined and ﬁerce. ‘

Fred Spruel was indeed a master swordsman,
but in less than a minute he was disarmed, and
all held their breath as the pointof Mountjoy’s
rapier seemed about to pierce his breast.

But it was quickly lowered and Mark Mount—
joy turned on his heel with a quiet smile.

nstead of appreciating the favor of his life,
Fred Spruel was enraged, and said in a husky
vorce:

“ Vail, I demand a meeting now with pistols.”

“ If Ca tain Mountjoy is willing to grant it,
Captain pruel, for it rests with , him, you
know,” Ezra Vail announced, and his res ct
for the skipper had wonderfully increased Since
he had seen him handle a. sword. ’

Ezra Vail turned to Major Deering, who ques—
tioned. his rincipal upon the subject, though he
said that e thought the naval ofﬁcer had no
right to ask it. ‘ ' '

‘ If Ca tain Spruel desires a memento to keep
in his in ud, yes,” was the response, and the
pistols were taken from their cases, loaded and
the duelists placed in position.

Herbert Deering lost the word. and Ezra Vail
showed that he meant to be tricky, so as to aid
his rincipal.

_ ilgave the ﬁrst words slowly, but the last

inc :7.
q But he was not so uick but that Mark Monnt-
joy was quicker, an‘ his bullet struck the pistol
arm of his foe, causing it to drop m his side and
let his own weapon fall, still loaded to the
ground. _

Without a. glance at his adversary, Mountjoy
turned away, but then said something to Major
Deering in a low tone, who said: v

“ Captain Moun tjoy desires to offer his vessel
to carry Captain Spruel back to the town.”

“Not”. sternly said Fred Spruel, setting his
teeth as the. surgeon probed the wound to see if
the bone was broken. ,

Both men bbwed and passsd on, and the
Winged Arrow headed on her way to Ports-
mouth, whithcr Major Deering was going with
important dispatches from the general, and glad
of a chance to once more see Grace HunnewelL _

.“By the gods of war, Markuwhat a swords-
. man you are, and you send a bullet just where
you aim,” said the major, as they stood‘on the
deck of the Winged Arrow, _ watching ' the
cruiser’s-cutter rowing rapidly back to the town
with her wounded captain. ‘ -

“ I did not careito kill, him, though I at ﬁrst
intended to do,sn. ' ‘ ‘ ‘ '

 
' ,“ He “will. have cause to remember me now}?
was thequietroply.‘ g     I, V , I '

   
“ Yes; he will hardly call you out again.”

“ I could have prevented it by breaking his
arm and causing the loss of it; but Iﬁredto
give a ﬂesh wound only, and I feel that your
uncle the general will be glad that I did not
kill him.”

“I know that he will, as alsom
have you any intention of leaving
all you have suffered there, Mark?”

“ No; I shall remain and live down the perse—
cutions of my foes,” was the stern response of
the young sailor.

But little he dreamed what the future had in
store for him.

r CHAPTER LIV.

, THE FATAL SHOT.

THE news of the duel soon spread over the
town, and created more excitement, especially
when the particulars leaked out that Mark
Mountjoy had challenged the naval ofﬁcer for
his false charges against him, and then after dis-
arming him, bad given him his life.

Such a thing was considered impossible, for
Captain Spruel was noted as a skillful swords-
man.

Then came the second meeting, and Mark
Mountjoy at least gained the admiration of
General Nevitte and Miss Kittredge for his mer-
ciful act, for he had suffered enough to have
been merciless they both know.

The cruise to Portsmouth was made, and Her-
bert Deering determined to return on the
Winged Arrow, instead of by stage-coach as he
had intended.

He had been made happy by discovering that
Grace Hunnewell was not engaged, and as Cap-
tain Hunnewell was anxious to consult with, the
general and had so written,,he had been invited
by Miss Kittredge to bring his daughter and
Visit The Harborage.

This they had consented to do, when urged by
Herbert, and as the Winged Arrow had a most
comfortable and commodious cabin, the had
taken passage back on her, greatly to t e de-
light of Major Deering.

Upon the arrival of the Winged Arrow, ﬂy-
ing the ﬂag of the port captain of the station,
the Vidette ran up her colors, beat to quarters
and ﬁred a salute, which Mark returned
promptly by dipping the American ensign.

The captain and Grace were warmly wel-
comed to The Harborage, and Mark left Mate
Manning in charge of his schooner and started
homeward, amid a gaping crowd.

On his way he met Captain Ezra Vail and
Justin Laws,‘who bowed to him.

He coldly returned the bow, and as he passed
Ezra Vail said: _

“ Laws, that man must be gotten rid of,”

“ He is still in the way, sir?”

“ Of course, for did he at wound {poor Spruel,
and to call him out woul be sure oath to the
man who did it. ' .

“ I want you to get rid of him.”

H   I?” I

“There have been some freebooters’ raids of
late along the shore, so why cannot a party of
men land there some night, attack his home and
kill him?” ,

“They can; but it would be expensive, for I
would have to go to Boston and get a craft and
pick the men.” ’

“ Do it, cost what it may.”

“ All right, Captan Vail, _

“ Captain Spruel is not in this secret?”

“ No, for he would object.”

“And Mrs. Mount 'oyi” .

“ She must not be armed under any circum-
stances."

“ And the children?”

“ Bah! don’t you understand that Mountjoy
is the one to be doomed?”

“ I’ll see to it, sir, and leave by to-night’s
tags” for Boston, for he will be in, port ten

ays. ‘
“ Do so, and your share shall be a clear thou—
sand,” and the words made Justin Laws 9. happy

aunt; but
alem after

 
man. ,

That night Justin Laws took sssage in the
midnight coach for Boston, in w ich there was
but one other passenger.

That one was in the garb of a priest, and he ‘

took a Beat by the side of the clerk.

“ Well, you keep your word, Justin?”

“ Yes, and lots of money it cost me, for I had
to bribe three men in that prison.” »

“You owe it to an old friend to do so, for you
are getting rich, Laws.” ,

“ I' am a poor man.” ‘ .

“Not you; but your plot was a clever one, to
go with a priest to see that sickman in the cell
beyond mine, and have the guard you , bribed
open my cell and give me my robe as a‘ padre.

“ I walked out as cool as you please, and wh

it becomes known there will be a row,‘ will there ‘

not?”

ni ht with that dying prisoner, so you I" not
beg misSed until morning, and by then you will
be ssfel’ ‘ . 1 ' ,_

“ Oh, yes, and I thauk'you.”

“ Prove it by doing me a favor." _
, .“Nameitﬁ . > '  ~ 
“ I ,wsnta small craft and about’ha‘lt a
men.”  ‘ ‘ k  s,

in ;

«)v

I

 
. . , 
“There will be, but the priest is boats .11 '

 
. the whaling ﬂeet, an

 The Doomed Whaler.

29

\

 
” More deviltry l”

“ No, a kidnapping scrape."

“Ah! well, I’ll get you the craft and the men,
and a charming lot of cut-throats they will be.

“ When do you want them?”

“ Within a couple of days, and in disguise I
will give 'them their instructions.”

“ All right, I’ll get them for you and have
you meet them on board.

“ Then I shall go on a voyage, until my beard
grows out and no one can recognize me, for I
must be careful as an escaped convict, you
know, Justin.”

Without delay they arrived in Boston, and
Justin Laws went to lodgings he was acquainted
with, while Will Wilder sou ht his old rooms at
the Good Cheer Inn, great y to the delight of
Mick, who gave him a warm welcome home.

Two days after Justin Laws received a note
to go to a Certain wharf where he would ﬁnd a
man waiting to take him on boards. vessel oil! in
the stream.

He went comtfiletely disguised himself and
was soon in the irty cabin of the craft, where
he made his arrangements with the cut-throat-
iooklng skipper to carry out a plot' he had form-
ed which would get rid of Mark Mountjoy ef-
fectually, and bring him in another round sum
from the hand of his master, Ezra Vail, whose
tool he was.

And while Justin Laws set out on his return
to Salem to make his report, the wretched craft

' and her evil crew were beating along the coast

to carry out the cruel plot they had been bribed
well to undertake.

It was near midnight when the vessel sailed
into Salem Harbor.

Her rag ed sails were brown with age and
stains, an without a. light visible she could
hardly be seen half a cable's length away.

She drorp anchor off-shore and within pis-
tol—shot o vy Lodge.

Then a boat was noiselessly lowered and the ‘

murderous crew entered and were soon on shore
creeping toward the home of their victim.

A knock at the door caused Mark Mountjoy
to ask who was there and the answer came:

“ Mate of the Winged Arrow, sir.”

But Mountjoy did not know the voice and
glancin out througha window saw thecrowd
of arme men.

“ Be off, or I open ﬁre!” he shouted.

There was a. rush then, the door cracked un-
der the weight hurled against it, and the young
sailor seizing his pistols and cutlass stood at

be .

Then in came the door, pistol-shots rung out,
groans and heavy falls followsd, then came a
wild shriek, and with cries of horror the mid-
night marauders ﬂed.

And no wonder, for there on the ﬂoor lay
three dead forms.

Two were those of the marauders; the third
was Alma, the beautiful wife of Mountjoy.

A pistol-bullet had pierced her heart. ~

Wounded though he was, he forgot himself as
he knelt by her Side.

Then came hurrying feet, and a crowd of
nei hbors appeared.

ark Mountjoy was cared for, and Major
Deerin sent after, and ursuit of the marauders
was or cred, and the inged Arrow ut to sea
with a crew from the Vidette on boa .

But though the old vessel was found ashore,
none of the vile crew were discovered, except
one who lay dead on her decks, another victim
of Mark Mountjoy’s fury.

It was long weeks before Mark Mountjoy
arose from a. sick bed, and it was then to learn
from the nurse of his children that one of them
had died at the house in the country where she
had taken them both after that night of horror.

The other was left in her charge, and the sor-
rowing father sold his schooner and cottage and
bought half an interest in a ﬁne brig bound for
the whalinggrounds. ‘

To his surprise, when he went on board as
captain, he found his partner in the ownership
of the brig was none other than Will Wilder,
who was also ﬁrst mate of the vessel.

And so the good bri Sea Dove set sail to join
years went by ere she
was again seen in the waters near Sn em town.

In less than two months after her sailing, at
her ak ﬂoated the black ﬂag of the irate—
MarkeMountjoy was again no or a clou l

 
CHAPTER LV.
a FATAL PLEDGE.

Wm: gloom in his heart at his life of sorrow,
Mark Mountjoy hoped that his new career, far
from the scenes of his earlier life and those who
had known him then, would at least bring peace
to his troubled soul. _

I Beautiful, noble Alma. had been laid away in
the pretty church ard of Salem, and in the
country, for from he grave of its dead mother,
he wastold was the grave of one of his. little
boy while, the other, too young almost to know
his 5father, was under the care of the faithful

nurse.
The brig, which bore the ful name of

.8611 Dove, was a fleet v , stench and sea-

worthy.

 
In hiding himself, Will Wilder had gotten his
mate to ﬁt her out, and had then advertised to
sell half a share in her.

This was the way in which Mark Mountjoy
and Wilder had come to be partners, for the
young sailor had offered to buy if he could be
captain, and when he knew who was to be half-
ownor with him, Will Wilder gladly yielded the
mast ir‘s berth, and took that of ﬁrst mate.

The brig sailed the day after Mark and Wil-
der’s arrival on board, and both were charmed
with her, and Mountjoy was drawn toward his
ﬁrst officer, well knowing what he had done to
serve him.

He had heard of Wilder’s mysterious escape
from prison, and knew that he was a confessed
outlaw and a in itive; but he would never be-
tray him, for h be not in the past also been
tempted, and but for his meeting with Alma.
Shields, he knew that he would have then beena
freebooter.

I The second mate, Juaquin Estella, he did not
' ike.

He was a thorough seaman, but he was a
Spaniard, and had a cruel, treacherous look.

Before the brig had been two weeks at sea, the
trouble began, for one night Mark Mountjoy
found his crew fully armed, and coming into the
gahin, Juaquin Estella had all of them at his

ack.

“ Captain Mountjoy, I wish to say to you and
to Mate Wilder, that this craft is in my hands,
for I shipped these men and in the bold are guns
for a ﬁne batter , an ample smell—arms and
ammunition, for ﬁtted the vessel out to suit
my own views.

“ We like you, and if you care to serve as my
ofﬁcers, all right; if not, I shall put you .both in
irons and keep you there while go on 9. bacon,-
iéeeging voyage among the vessels of the whaling

ee .

“ What say you, senorsi”

Mark Mountjoy’s answer was to spring at the
Spaniard; but a dozen men threw themselves
upon him, and after a ﬁerce s'rug 16 he was
overpowered and in irons; but Wil ilder ac-
cepted the terms offered him and remained as
ﬁrst officer, with J uaquin Estella as captain.

And thus did the brig, with the peaceful
name of Sea. Dove, begin a piratical cruise, un-
til she became a terror to the honest Whalers.

One night, while lying| in his state-room in
irons, Mark Mountjoy card wild bouts on
deck, mingling with shots and the clash of
arms.

He knew what it meant—Will Wilder had
killed the S isli captain and had proclaimed
himself lea er in his place, and the battle for
mastery was goin on with those of the crew
who remained oya to‘their former chief.

He arose from his berth, for he could not re-
main idle then, when Wilder might need his
aid, and with a chair and exertions of his giant
strength he drew the ring-tolts from the ﬂoor
and was free at least to go on deck.

His left arm was manacled however. but his
right Was free, and seizing a cutlass from the
ea in he sprung on deck into the midst of the
struggling mass of humanity.

d not a moment too soon, for Wilder, his
friend, who had accepted Estella’s letters to save
himself and Mountjoy, was being overpowered
with his men.

But the good right arm of Mark Mount'oy
turned the tide, and victory was with Will
Wilder and his followers.

And then once more Mark Mounth was

lacsd in command of the brig whic was
‘ ended homeward with half her Wicked crew in

irons.

Yet still did adversity dog the path of Mount-
joy for in a fearful storm the brig sprung a-leak
and all were compelled to take to the boa ts.

In the same boat went Mountjoy and Wilder,
and six of the men, and the ill-gotten treasure
taken by Estella in his piracies was carried with
t em.

For (in they drifted about. and one by one
they die , 'until but the two ofﬁcers and one of
the two men remained alive, and it was Wilder’s
having hidden food and fed his friend the last
seamen and himself by night that kept them
from starvation.

One night in a blow the boat, was driven
ashore and the sailor, too weak to battle With
the waves, went down in spite of the eﬂorts of
Mark to save him.

The treasure was saved however, and the two
friends on the following morning found them-
selves alone the survivors and discovered that
they were upon a desolate island not far from
the mainlan .

They hurled their treasure, patched up their
lies; as best they could and reached the main-

an .

They were kindly cared for at a farmhouse on

the coast and learned just where they were.

selves, and seated together one afternoon Will
Wilder suddenly sai z,. ‘

" Mountjoy, am goin to tell you a secret.

“M name is not der, but Wilder-mere
Rutle g . and my father dwells not very far
from where we now are.

“He is an’ old man,and an inhuman one, ‘or

 
rather he was in the long ago, for be caused my

 
. a debt to settle, or thong t he had, against the

After a‘few days they were once more them»

‘with them without a word. '

 
mother‘s death by cruelty, and turned me out of K" \
doors, and thus it was that I went to the bad.

“ Now the property he has was my mother's,
and not his, and her will left me every dollar of
it, though I have never claimed it, nor have I
seen him since I left home twenty—ﬁve years ago.

“I heard he had married again, and was sup-
posed never to have been married before: also
that he is enormously rich, and thisis all I know
about him. ’

“ Now I do not care to touch that treasure of ,
Estella’s, which we buried on the island, for fear 
it may bring us more bad luck- but we must:
start over again and we have nothing, so Wish
you to go to my father and demand of him for ,
me, ten thousand dollars.

‘ I will give on a letter to him, and tell him
he can have 1 else, if he will give me that
sum.

“ Will 'you do this, Mark, for we can start
anew with the world and carve out our fortunes
in an honest way u n a ﬁne vessel, which that.
mono will secure or us. .‘

“ on will 0, Mark?” . ‘

“ Yes, I wi go,” was the response, and fate- . 3
ful were the words Mountjoy uttered. '

CHAPTER LVI.
ms noon.

Manx Mounmov went upon his mission for
Wildermere Rutledge, and reachin the town _ 
where the father of the rover dwe t was not 2:1:
lon in discovering the gossip regarding him. ‘ g"

Ige lived in a rookery and rumor be it treat—
ed his wife most shamefully,

Rememberin all that ildermere Rutledge
had told him of him, how he had been the death
of his mother, had driven him out of his home,
and was living upon his son’s fortune, Mark
Mountjoy had‘ only contempt for the old miser,
and intended showing him no mercy, should he
refuse the demand made upon him.

But a chapter in the earl pages of this re- \
mance tells the tragic story 0 Mark Mountjoy's .
visit to old Peter Rutledge. ‘

1n self—defense, and aroused to fury, he had
dealt a murderous blow, to he suddenly con-
fronted by the one woman he had ever loved, the . >

irl-sweetheart of his boyhood, the ladylove of! ~
is later years, and the one whom he had lost,
lvzgo had been given for gold to old Miser Rut-A
e. .

1% dismay indescribable he had ﬂed, going he '-
knew not, cared not where, and yet he had the
cunning of a madman to seek safety in ﬂight.

Several days after he entered the town of .
Salem, and his steps led him toward Ivy Lodge, {
his old home. f '3

Others dwelt there then, and it was no longer?
his home, and he turned away to ﬁnd himself
face tovfaco with an nngr crowd.

He had been recogni and it had been told
that he was the pirate who had played havoc
with the whaling ﬂeet.

He had gone out in the Sea Dove, and she had _
become a pirate vessel. ‘ .

There were men in that crowd Who had be. 3
longed to the whaling fleet when the Sea Dove 3:
was praying like a ha wk upon the various ves‘
sels. and they had seen Mark Mountjoy upon the :
decks of the pirate, they had said. i ‘1.

Without invasti ation, without mercy, like, 1
human bloodhoun s they set u on him, and the"
man whose life had been one o strange Vicilsi~
tildes, and full of sorrow, was seized b the
angry mob and dragged away to the w undo”
on the hills. , I

Law, order were set aside, and mercy was ‘
smothered by hatred. . r . <
The one so long dogged was in their brutal .
power at last, w on there was no chance to ‘~
escape. ’ ' . » ,

Up past The Harborage went the mass of hu— ‘
manity, unheedin the few weak voices raised
to beg them to for ear, to give him a fair trial,
and at last they reached the scene where death
was to wipe out reven e, the death of their on:
fortunate,‘unhappy vic 'm. ‘ ‘ l 

“Mark Mountjoy, murderer and sea robber,
you have not ten minutes to live. ' ‘

“ Have you aught to an in that time?”

The speaker was a ran -fsced sailor who had

 
unfortunate man, for one of the vessels burned
by the Sea Dove he had been rt owner of, and

a broadside upon her from t ,bucoaneer brig . ‘
had killed his son. *

He had constituted himself leader of the mob, ,,
and the others had acquiesced. .

At other times brave. noble fellows, true ses-
men and Nature's nobleman, at sight of one ,
whom they had been taught to believe guilt of  .
law-breaking for years, and whom now ey I H _
were sure had been proven apirate. they had .
torn justice and judgment from their hearts and > ,
were read to avenge their misfortunes by the , v
Eighth of he victim who had ventured among

em. , i .

Mark Mountjoy had not shrunk from the . .~,
angry mass. nor had his eyes quailed. ‘ a i

He had offered no resistance that would only
bring more indignity upon him, but had gone .

'Over him swept memories of the past, of his f
wild, reckle- bo hood. which had gained for
him the name of Sled Mountjoy. ~

 
. 4—

30

The Doomed Whaler.

 
He had been a creature of cruel circumstance,
and when he had sought an honorable career,
impassable barriers seemed to have risen before

un.

He recalled his parents, his thoughts turned
upon Lola, his lifelong love, and who be little
dreamed had been condemned by dying lips that
meant not to condemn by words, but to say she
could tell who her slayer was, and who then lay
linn a cell with the red crimson fastened upon

or.

‘ Lola, who would rather die on the gallows
than betray him, Mark Mountjoy, the one man
to whom her heart’s love had ever one forth.

Had be known this, then Mar Mountjoy
would have in his frenzy fought single handed
that mad crowd.

In his horror at slaying Peter Rutledge. he
had not dared go back and face the son, though
the son held no love for his father.

And so. half-dazed, he had drifted back to
‘Salem, drifted back to what a fate.

In answer to the words of the ringleader of
the mob, he said, in a voice that was without a
tremor:

“ I would have pen, ink and paper, and some
man of honor here to pledge me he will obey
my bidding.” ‘

A cottage home was near and a man hastened
thither for the articles named, while a white-
haired and bearded man, seemingly bent with
age; tottered forward to the prisoner’s side and
8m :

“ I will do your bidding, my son.”

“ God bless you, old man!"

Then from the lips of the white-haired man
came the whisper:

“ Do not start, or it will betray me.

’ ~  I am Will'Wilder.”

There was no start, but the face paled and
ﬂushed, and Mark Mouutjoy said sternly:

“You have me in your power, men, and are
armed.

“ Secure my feet, and if I attempt to escape
shoot me down: but fall back from me, for I
would speak to this old man.

“ Remember, I am about to step across the
threshold of life, I have a confession to make—
a man looking down into his own grave makes
this request of you."

There was a movement in the crowd, and
stern men sat the example, and fell back in a
wide circle.

The messenger arrived with the ink, pen and
paper, and a plank was secured to write on, a
log serving as a rest.

“ God bless you, Wilder, but you do not know
all,” said Mountjoy.

“ I do, for I have heard all, and was seeking
you: he met his just fate,” was the low response.

“ I asked for writing materials to indite a few

. lines to you.

“ I was going to ask you to see my boy, my
r little boy, to care for him, be a father to
m, and in good time tell him all.
“ To share with him, also, that treasure on the
islandéyfor I would have him beyond the curse of
ver .
f‘ I will wr-ite here now, that I bequeath him
to you, and that you hold the true secret of my

v life for him.

“ I will writ? here now that I leave him my
heir, and all possess, even to my hatred for
these bounds who seek my life.

“ You will tell him all, Wilder, tell him as it
is, sothat all the shadows do not fall upon my
unhappy memciiiy.”

“ I mean it, ountjoy—write, for this crowd
grows impatient.

“ Ah! that I had half a. hundred good fellows
here to cool their thirst for revenge with a little
blood-letting,” and Will Wilder gritted his teeth
.with rage. .

And Mark Mountjoy, with a face that show-
ed no fear, a hand that was firm as steel, wrote
what he would say, his dyin words, while the
crowd glared at him, many a miring, but many
inore enraged that they could make him feel no

ear.

Five, ten minutes passed away, and the work
was ended, the name was signed, and the paper
was paced in tin; hangs of Will Willider, who
groan in angns as e si -editan as d
the hand of his friend. g“ gr pa

From his quivnring lips came the words:

j “good-by and God bless you, Mark Mount-
0 .

K Farewell, and remember your trust.”

Then, turning to the crowd who were pressing
agrzard, his voice rung out as upon the quarter-
v c z

" Men, I am ready I “ ’

V ,There was a wild yell, a rush, and in a few
more minutes the end had come—Mark Mount-

' joy bad met his doom. ’

 
CHAPTER LVII.
THE CURTAIN rams.
How strange their fate—Lola IA Salle’s and
Mark Mountjoy‘s!
That he should die at the hands of a merciless
mob, for crimes of which be was innocent, and

. that she, also innocent of the murder of her

husband. unknowi
her lonely cell, shoal be sin-angled by the law’s

. 596 North River Nat
his sad end, asshe sat in "

 
She died leaving two orphan children that
must know nothing of their mother’s fate-died
to shield the man she loved with all her heart
and soul from the deed she had seen him com-
niitl

He had died, willing his orphan child to the
care of a. loving man, though a law—breaker, a
sea rover—an outlaw with honor.

Thus they passed from oil? the stage of life,
and the seal of death was upon their lips.

And the children of the law-murdered mother
were hurried away, that they might not know
the dread secret of her fate.

And Will Wilder crept out of that mad
crowd, unseen in the wild excitement, and
sought safety in ﬂight, for he must be true to
his trust, true to his word to Mark Mountjoy.

True to it he was, until death came to him,

ears after, and the son of the doomed Whaler

ad learned the secret, and the learning of it
had planted seeds of hatred in his heart that
would never die out.

Upon one, Herbert Deering, the memory of
that mad man’s act fell cruelly. Bitterly he do—
nounced the human hloodhounds, and rejoiced
at their conscience—stricken horror when the
true story was told by several buccaneers who
were captured by the Vidette and executed by
order of Ca tain Spruel.

He spre the story of Mark Mountjoy’s in—
nocence, and many men of Salem hung low
their heads with commingled shame and sorrow,
for they had taken the life of a man for piracy,
when he had been Estella's victim, on board his
own ship, in irons. /

The sad fate of Mountjoy fell with telling ef-
fect upon Fred Spruel, and remembering only
his virtues, recalling how he had spared his life,
the commander of the Vidette ever had a kind
word for his memory, and, regretting his own
part, carried in his heart a sorrow he could not

anish, a memory that ever haunted him,
given when, With age, honor and high rank were
is.

It was upon The Harborage grounds that
Mark Mountjoy had met his fate; but its mis-
tress was not there than, or mayhap her presence
would have stilled the raving mob.

She was away in Portsmouth, attending the
marriage of her nephew, for he had won the
heart of ~Grracra Hunnewell, won it the day he
saved her from the wreckers.

The bridal present of Miss Kittredge to the .

beautiful bride was The Harborage, whose
charms lured the gallant soldier out of the
army to settle down there as a. gentleman of
leisure, and while devoting his life to his own
and his wife’s happiness, he never forgot the
happiness of others—never forgot the man
whom he had loved as a brother, and over whose
body, placed by the side of poor Alma, in a se-
cluded retreat of The Harborage woodlands, be
erected a ﬁtting tomb.

As for two other characters of my romance,
Ezra Vail and Justin Laws, the former grew
richer and richer, and kept his vow to make his
son the wealthiest hair in New England.

If remorse ever came to him for his perse-
cution of Mad Mark Mountjoy, he never showed

it, but reared his son to have his hatreds and ‘

revengeful nature.

But Justin Laws did feel the death his plot
brought upon poor Alma, and he became a
changed man, silent and subdued, and to even
the advances of Widow Betts made no resistance
but was quietly roped into her toils, and in what
she made him suffer there would have been re-
venge for Mark Mountjoy had he lived.

In a pretty cottage, as thou‘gh tired of longer
being a rover of the seas, l ill Wilder, as he
still called himself, made his home. It was a

icturesque, secluded spot upon the coast of
nine, and in ﬂares storms the spray would
dash upon the iazza of the little home.

A comfortab e, cozy abiding-place, with boats,
horses, dogs and ( books with which to while
away the time, Will Wilder seemed at least con-
tented, and devoted himself to the care of Mark
Mountjoy’s son, to whom he had become as a
father. '

And thus falls the curtain on the scenes of the
long ago in Salem town.

THE END.

 
Beadle’s Half-Dime library.

BY HARRY ST. GEORGE.

80 Roaring R31 11 Rockwood, llu Ran er.

44 Rattlln Ru 9; or, The Nllllthawklo Kentucky.

59 Old Hie ory; or, Pandy Elli-’0 Sang).
1.08 During Davy: or, The ’l‘rnll nnha rd" Wolf.
166 Illckory llur : or, The Tm r—Brlgsde'l Spy.
113 Thunderbolt on" or, the olf-Hordu_

BY J0 rinnoa.

897 Bob 0’ the Bowery: or, The Prince of Mulberry Street.
415 The Vagabond Detective; or. Bowery Ball" Boom. .
452 Note ur Bob. the Street-Boy Detective.
4060 The wyer’s Shadow: or. Luka’n mm.
413 lunacy Joe, the Young Horse-King.
494 ﬂurly ﬁlm, the Young Farryman Detective.
604 Flve Points Phil.
509 Jack Jug:ern._tlm Butcher Bay Detective.
516 Tartar Tim; or. Flvr Paints Phil‘s Menagerie.
the Pier Demure
588 Wrestling I! ex, w Pﬂrl. «my» Sixth Ward.
541 ‘Jelf Fllnlu-r. rhi- Stabl- Bay Dot-can.
551 Niel: Netth, the Bov Shadow. - \
56’ Harlem Juk. ‘1» ct‘ Bay Dew-live.
m Bropklyn Ben. the WOW-Hack Duncan.
. H I t I

- l

 
BY “'M. G. PATTI-IN.

439 The Diamond Sport: or, The Double Face ofBed Rock
519 Ouptulll Mystery l Dr, MW in One.
681 Dulny Bare the Sport from Denver.

BY EDWARD WILLETT.

16? Ana Scott, the Steamboat Boy.

1199 Featherweight the Boy Clmmplnn or the Min-Human.
1328 Ozark All‘ or, Featherweing Among the Outlaws.

282 The Type Detective: ur, Weasel. the Boy Tramp.

2 5 Feurless l'hll; or, The King at Qunrllville.

311 The Rovlu Sports (-I‘, The Frivlc qulIuckaluck Cunp.
822 Name. the tlletectlvc; or, Kit Kenyou‘l Vendetta.
840 (luv the Contortlonlltl onThu Montana Vigilnhs.

BY MAJOR E. L. ST. VRALN.

992 Sancho Pedrb the Boy Hanan.

801 Li-udvllle Nlc the Boy Spun.

812 Redtop Rube. he Vigil-nu Prince.

1538 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horn Qum
858 Tomb-tone Tom. the Arizona Boy of“ Suit")
Durnum. Inn-v, Llu l’uung "miqu n V rrlllrl.
871 lilnﬁbolt Chrla, the Young Hard-Shell Detective.
880 Ava anelle Alf, the Foolhllll Guido. -

890 Jaguar Joe. of the Monmuin Mall-Lin.

BY EDWARD a. name.

6 Bill Hidden, Trl'prer.
8 Seth Jonen; or, e Captives of ma Frontier.
10 Nut Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive.
91 The Frontier Angel.
98 The Buy Mlnern or, The Enchanted Inland.
139 The llunted llunterl or. The Stu-Ire Honolulu.
954 The llalf-lllootl ; or, Thu Panther oi the Phil».
971 The lluge Hunter: or. Tlu Swain Prairie Mu.

BY ROGER STARBUCK.

35 The Boy Captaln: or, The lete’n Daughter.
114 The Black Schooner: or, Jib Junk. the 01d Tar.
259 The Golden llnr men; or, Lost Among the Flees.
84K Fire-“eels or. 0 d Sklnﬂlut, the Death-Shadow.
854 Ill: "arm I e, the "HI Tramp; or, The Odd Pads.
86! The Phantom Light-house.
870 Breaker lien. the Reef-Runner.

BY GEORGE “'ALDO RROWNE.

£6 “mid Rock the Man from Texas.
90 ' ‘he Ill-cud Rider: or. The 'l‘sxsn Duelist.
99 "he 'l‘lxer oI’Tuon or. Dandy Rock’s AWL
115 ’l‘llc Mad Miner: or, Dandy Rock’s Duo .
181 The Golden llundx or, Dandy Rock in the Rescue.
164 Dandy Rock’s l’letl e; or, Hunted in Death.
178 Dandy Rock’s Rlvu : or. The Haunted Maid of Two.

 
BY J. O. OOWDRICK.

860 Silver-Mask. the Man of Mystery.
869 Shunt“. the Gold Rlllu: or. For Seven Your: Dead.
4330 The netectlve’s Apprentice: or, A Boy Without A

Name.
424 Cjbuln Juli"; nr, Red-Hot Times at Auto Bar.
489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout.
46’? Disco Dan. the Unit Dude.
490 Brmudwa Bllly, lie Bootblsck Bravo.
506 lletlll llt In] ll, the Prince ol the Road.
514 Brmuﬁvay Bl ly’l Boodle.
524 The Engineer 1 etcctlve
536 Broadway llllly’n ‘Dlﬂlkllty.”
5491 )[url, the Night Express Delectlve.
557 Broudway llllly’n Ill-nth Racket.
571 Alr-Llue Luke the Young Eng-luau.

BY PHILIP 5. WARNE.

01’ Patent-Lennier Jne: or, Old Rattlesnake. the Channel.
175 Uuptam .Arlzonn: or. Fulani-Leather Joe's Big Game.
1915 Captaln Musk; or, Patent-Laplher June’s Defeat.

219 lie-purd. the. Duellst: or. The Mountain meplru.
8891 A Ton h Boy; or, The Dwnri’l Revenge.

868 Little ornudo: Or, The Outcast: ol' the Gian.

873 thtle lingo: or, the Queer Find.

883 Little ("i-my]; or, Caught in ills Own Tran.

401 little [illoo- ly : or, A Race lm in Ranch.

408 Little Leuther- Breeches: of. Old Jumbo’l Cum.
481 Little All Slug or, The Curse ol‘ Blood.

451 (‘olorndo Rate. A Tale oi'ihe ullnel.

480 Three Jolly Paras.

51 Jlm Gladden's Depu .

527 The. Jolly I’urds to t 8 Rescue.

' 54'? Sandy Andy; or, A Good Man Down.

 
556 lin-rlnt Lil; or. The Cut for n Lll‘e.
574 Old Weasel-top, the Man with the Dogs.

MISCELLAN EOUR AUTHORS.

4 The Wild-"one Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Bold and
Frederick Whittaker.

9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen.

12 Gulllver’s Travels. By Dean swift.

14 Aladdin: M. The Wonderful lep.

16 Robinson Crusoe. (‘11 lllnslrlllonl.)

18 Sindhad the Sailor. Hll Seven lay-goo. ,

22 The Sea Serpent: or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Jan

L2 is.

88 Th: Ocean Bloodhound: or, The Red Pink- o! tho
Cnrrlbvvs. By 5. 21’1"".

86 The Boy Clown: or, The Queen of the Areas. By Frank
Q I

. . nn.
'4 N l \V ld . the Bo Scout. By Tens Jack.
g1 Tlei‘e “03y Riﬂes] 0);, The Underground Camp. By Archie

0. iron.
95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freabooun of the lllullllppl.
Bv Liana-Col. Hun this.
98 Robin ﬂood, the Uullnwed Earl; or,’l‘ho Merry Mu: a! Gun-
wno . Bv Pruf. Gildsnleeve.
105 Old Rubia, the Hunter: or, The Crow Captive. By Captain
unlltnn alums.
119 T lie Mad Hunter: or. The Cave of Death, lay-Bung, gm
134 ppy. the Texan: or,Tlia Young Champion. By Goon.

or]:

‘GDIOI'I.
8 The Youn Privateer: or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By
Hurry Cavsn ll .
148 Sharp Earn 3 or, The Advantuml ofl Frisndleu Boy. By J.
Alexander Patten.
02’! Husky Darrell. Tr- pur: or, The Graen Range? of the Vel-
lnwstone. By Edward mono».
861 Fergus Fem-naught the New erll Boy. By George].

III.

366 Klllh'ar. the Guide: «nDavy Crockotn Crooked Tun.
By .nslun C. D. Warren.

298 Red Claw. the Ono-Eyed Trapper, or, The Maid out. elm.
Bv Captain Cum-lock.

81'! Peacock Pete. the Lively Lad from Ludvllla. By “our
tenant Alirsd Thorns. V

as The Sky He‘s-other or. A Boy’s Fight for LII. and Ham.

' s

 
B M Mick» Fro .
350 lgeill'l‘lilph. he River Rovers on'l‘hn Brother's Ib-
vnun, Ned Bunt lno.

. ' n the Bool'nlsck Demure. A. 1’. Morris.
 33333:? T::u or, Ben’s Doubh Match.ny3y Goons B.

876 d332,"... Jo’e's mm Tun. ay Calm] The--

H .‘l '.
418 Bill? “milieu, the our Climber. a, r.s. Whom.
475 he Black ﬂhl . By John 5. Warner. I
484 remain-lie Me and Rio Three luvllclblol. I,
On" - nmnl.
533 Wizard-Arm, the Dandy S rt. B Arthur I. Holt.
1‘ 0 b ' Duke. wln Syroohl'uuu.
Egg Arlee] 2h“; Aoililete. By Dhava Druid.

A New Issue Every Tuna-y.
The Half- Dlme Library H for silo by all um...
unt- pﬂ copy, or am by mlth with». or six some such, ‘ A _
' BEAR“  Ahmarubmhn.
u ' 08 William Street. New!*
., : - 3‘ , r 5 ar

 
g.

...3

l.

i:

 
:0. M  .:- .,

:, my,”

 
i
i
I

  
BEADLE’S*DIME*I_LBRARY.

 
Published Every chdncsday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents- No Double Numbers.

BY WILLIAM It. EYSTER.

145 Pistol Pards; or. The SilentSport from Cinnabar.

160 Soft Hand. Shar ): or. Th ‘ Man with the Sand,

162 Hands Up; or. he Knights of the Canyon.

19: The Lightning Sport.

214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch.

229 Captain Cutsleeve; or. The Little Sport.

268 Magic Mike, the Man of Frills.

.300 A Sport in Spectacles; or. The Bed Time at
Bunco.

33.3 Derringer Dick. the Man with the Drop.

344 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand.

356 Thr e Handsome Sports; or, The Double Com
bination.

375 Royal Geo e. the Three in One.

396 The Piper etective. .

402 Snapshot Sam; or. The Angels‘ Flat Racket. .

429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend. ' ’

459 Major Sunshine. the Man of Three Lives.

478 Pinnacle Pete; or. The Fool from Way Back.

503 The Dude from Denver.

BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.
8 The Headless Horseman; A Strange Story of

Texas.
12 The Death-Shot: or, Tracked to Death.
55 The Scalp Hunters. A Romance of the Plains.
66 The Specter Barque. A Tale of the Paciﬁc.
74 The Ea.an of the Riﬂes; or, The Queen of the
La es.
200 The Riﬂe Ran rs; or. Adventures in Mexico.
.208 The White Chief. A Romance of Northern Mex-

ICC.
‘213 The War Trail: or. The Hunt of the Wild Horse.
5313 The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter‘s Ven~
geance.
228 The Maroon. A Tale of Voodoo and Obeah.
234 The Hunter‘s Feast.
267 The White Squaw.

BY CAPT. FRED. WHIT'I‘AKER.

39 The Russxan Spy; or. The Starry Cross Brothers.
65 The Red Rajah; or, The Scour e of the Indies.
69 The Irish Captain. A Tale of ontenpy.
96 Double Death; or. The Spy of. W ommg.
98 The Rock Rider; or. The Spirit 0 the Sierra.

108 The Duke of Diamonds. .

115 The Severed Head; or, The Secret of Castle

oucy.
132 Nemo. King of the Tramps.
159 Red Rudiger, the Archer.

' 174 The Phantom Knights.

187 The Death’s Head Cuirassiers.

193 The Man in Red.

 One Eye. the Cannoneer.

211 Colonel Plunger; or The Unknown Sport.

215 Parson Jim, King 0 the Cowboys.

226 The Mall Hussars; or. The 0‘s and the Mac‘s.

230 The Flving Dutchman of 1880.

242 The Fog Devil; or, The Skipper of the Flash.

247 Alligator Dre: or. The Secret of the Eve lade.

253 A Yankee Cossack; or.The Queen of the ihilists.

265 Old Double-Sword; or Pilots and Pirates.

272 Seth Slocum. Railroad Surveyor.

277 The Saucy Jane, Privateer.

284 The Three Frigates; or. Old Ironsides’ Revenge.

290 The Lost Corvette: or, Blakeley’s Last Cruise.

295 Old Cross-Eve, the Maverick-Hunter.

303 Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Outlaw.

310 The Marshal of Satanstown; or, The Cattle-
Lifters’ Leifue.

326 The Whitest an in the Mines.

878 John Armstron . Mechanic.

406 Old Po Hicks, howman.

412 L8"? ocke. the Man of Iron.

445 Journeyman John. the Champion.

 
BY OLL COOMES.

7 Death-Notch. the Destroyer.

48 Dakota Dan. the Reckless Ranger.

44 Old Dan Raokhack. the Great Extarminator.
46 Rome-Knife Ben the Nor’wast Hunter.

48 ldaho Tom. the Young Outlaw of Silverland.

51 Red Rob. the Boy Road-A ent.

99 The Giant Riﬂeman: or. lld Camp Life.
137 Long Beard. the Giant Spy.
14B One-Armed Alt, the Giant Hunter.

BY ANTHONY P. MORRIS.

5 The Fire Fiends; or. Hercules. H

95 Azhort. the Axman; or, The Pam‘gcgebgg‘g.
100 The French Spy; or. The Bride of Paris.
167 The Man of Steel. Tale of Love and Ten-on
185 Man Spider; or. The Beautiful S hinx,
333 tint Iran“: °'“°‘~‘“i.?"§.§§§°o,°ug,e-

e as e s ery; or e .

2258 Electro Pete. t e Man or  can
306 The Roughs of Richmond:
813 Mark Magic, Detective.
834 Thﬁ‘ﬁipber Detective; or, Mark mots New

343 The Head Hunter; or. Mark M o in th Mine.
357 Jack Simon, Detective. m 9

BY PROF; J. a. monument.

‘ 113 The Sea Slipper; or, The Freebooters

113 The Burglar Captain; or. The Fallen 'Star.
314 Laﬁtte ; or. The Pirate of the Gulf.
316 Laﬁtte 5 Lieutenant; or. Child of the Sea.

BY GEORGE C. JENKS.
398 Sleepless e, the  Detective.

482 The Giant orseman.
507 The Drummer Detective. z

 
BY J. C. CO‘VDRICK.

390 The Giant Cupid: or Cibuta John‘s Jubilee.
422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective.
436 Kentucky Jean, the S ort from Yellow Pine.
452 Rainbow Rob, the Tu ip from Texas.

473 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective.
499 Twilight Charlie. the Road Sport.

BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON.

176 Lady Jaguar. the Robber Queen.

194 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent.

202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. '

219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom's Mission.
223 Canyon Dave. the Man of the Mountain.

927 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho. .

$17 Long-Haired Max; or, The Black League.
945 lsarranca Bill, the Revolver Champion
258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo.

‘263 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer.

$6 Leopard Luke the King of Horse-Thieves.
‘271 Stoneﬂst. of Big Nugget Bend.

276 Texa ; Chick. the Southwest Detective.
285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror.

291 Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck.
805 Silver-Plated So], the Montana Rover.

311 Heavy Hand: or. The Marked Men.

323 Hotspur Hugh; or. The Banded Brothers.

BY SAM S. HALL—“ Buckskin Sam.”

3 Kit Carson, Jr.. the Crack Shot.
90 Wild Will. the Mad Ranchero.
178 Dark Dashwood, the Desperate.
186 The Black Bravo; or. The Tonkaway's Triumph.
191 The Terrible Tonkaway; or. Old Rocky and is

Pards.
195 Till; iaone Star Gambler; or, The Magnolias

a1 .
199 Diamond Dick, the Dandy from Denver.

204 Big Foot Wallace. the King of the Lariat.

212 The Brazos Tigers; or. The Minute Men.

217 The Serpent of El Paso; or. Frontier Frank.

221 Desperate Duke. the Guadeloupe "Galoot.’

2:35 Rocky Mountain Al: or. The \\ alf of the Range.
239 The Terrible Trio: or, The Angel of the Army.
244 Merciless Mart. the Man Tiger of Missouri.

250 The Rough Riders: or. Sharp Eye the Scourge
256 Double Dan the Dastard; or, The Pirates.

264 The Crooked Three. .

269 The Bayou Bravo; or, The Terrible Trail. '

278 Mountain Mose. the Gorge Outlaw.

282 The Merciless Marauders; or. Carl’s Revenge.
287 Dandy Dave and his Horse. White Stockin . ‘
293 Stampede Steve; or. The Doom of the ouhle

ace.
801 Bowlder Bill; or. The Man from Taos.

309 Raybold. the Rattliug Ranger.

822 The Crimson Co otes; or Nita the Nemesis.
328 King Kent; or. he Bandits of the Bason.‘
342 Blanca Bill. the Mustang Monarch.

358 The Prince of Pan Out.

371 Gold Buttons; or. The U Range Paras.

511 Point Pete. the Prairie atrol.

BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON.

13 Pathaway; or, Nick Whiﬂles. the old Nor'west
Trapger.

17 Nights alie: or, The Robber Prince.

22 Whitelaw; or, Nettie of the Lake Shore.

87 Hirl, kthe Hunchback; or, The Santee Sword-
ma er.

58 Silver Knife: or. The Rocky Mountain Ranger.

70 Hydrabad. the Stron ler.

73 The Kgiciights of the ad Cross; or, The Granada

Mag an.
163 Ben rion; or. Redpath. the Avenger.

BY MAJOR DANGERFIELD BURR.

92 Buifalo Bill, the Buckskin King.
117 Dashing Dandy; or, The Hots ur of the Hills.
142 Ca taln Crimson the Man of he Iron Face.
156 Ve vet Face the'Border Bravo.
175- Wild Bill‘s rump Card; or3 The Indian Heiress.
188 The Phantom Maze pa; or. The Hyena. -
448 Hark Kenton. the raitor.

BY MAJOR DANIEL BOONE DUMONT.

883 Silver Sam. the Detective.

889 Colonel DoubleEdge, the Cattle Baron‘s Para.
411 TheVWhite Crook; or, Old Hark’s Fortress.
420 The Old River Sport; or. A Man of Honor.

489 Salamander Sam.

454 The Night Raider.

464 Sandvcraw the Man of Grit.

508 Topnotch Tom, the Mad Parson.

BY COLONEL BELLE SARA.

58 Silver Sam; or. The Mystery of Deadwood City.
87 The Scarlet Captain; or. Prisoner of the Tower.
106 Shamus O‘Brien, the Bould Boy of Glingal.

BY GEORGE ST. GEORGE.

296 Dun the Sea Diver.
417 Tucson Tom; or, The Fire Trailers.

RY GUSTAVE AIMARD.

15 The Tiger Slayer; or. Eagle Heart to the Rescue.

19 Red Cedar. the Prairie On w.

a) The Bandit at Bay; or, The Prairie Pirates.

21 The Tra per‘s Daughter; or, The Outlnw's

24 Prairie lower.

62 Loyal Heart: or. The Trappers of Arkanns.
149 The Border Riﬂes. A Tale of the Texan War.
151 The Freebooters. A Story of the Texan War.
158 The White Scalper. ‘ I

   
i

 
::
BY NEWTON M. CURTISS.

120 The Texan Spy; or. The Prairie Guide.
254 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain.

BY FRANCIS JOHNSON.

25 The Gold Guide' or, Steel Arm. Regulator. ’.
26 The Death Trac ; or. The Mountain Outlaws.
123 Alapaha the Squaw; or. The Border Renegades. .
124 Assowaum the Avenger; or, The Doom of the \
Destro er.
135 The Bus Ranger: or. The Halt-Breed Rajah. -
136 The Outlaw Hunter; or. The Bush Ranger. ‘ f
133 The Border Bandit; or, The Horse Thiel‘s Tran r;

BY C. DUNNING CLARK.

164 The Kin ’s Fool.
188 Gilbert t a Guide.

BY COL. THOMAS II. MONSTERE.

82 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. l v
126 The Demon Duelist; or. The Lea no of Steel. , _
143 The Czar’s Spy; or. The Nihilist e. . ' :~
150 El Rubio Bravo. King of the Swordsman. ' .i
157 Mourad, the Mameluke; or, The Three Sword; ‘

masters. . .
169 Corporal Cannon. the Man 01 Forty Duels,
286 Champion Sam; or The Monarchsof the Show
269 F‘ightin Tom. the Terror of the Touche.
889 Spring- eel Jack; or, The Masked Mystery.

 
BY ISAAC HAWKS. III-Detective.

{282 Orson Oxx; or, The River Mystery.
940 A Cool Head; or, Orson Oxx in Peril.

BY" NED BDNTLINE.

14 The. endan en, the Scourge' or,The War-Eagle,

16 TheyWhite llgizard; or, The Seminole Prophet.

18 The Sea Bandit; or,.Tne Queen of the Isle.

23 The Red Warrior; or, The Comanche Lover. .

61 Captain Seawall, the Privateer. ‘ , y
111 The Smuggler Ca tour or. The Skipper’sCrlma. 4 ’
122 Saul Sabberday, t e Id ot Spy. . - ' 1
270 Andros the Rover: or. The rate‘s Daughter. ‘
861 Tombstone Dick. the Train Pilot.

\

BY E. A. ST. 11101:.

471 The Heart of Oak Detective.
491 Zigzag and Cutt. the Invincible Detective!»

RY EDWARD WILLETT.

129 Mississippi Mose; or. a Stron Man’s Sacriﬁces

3309 Buck Farley, the Bonanza nce.

s.  ‘3‘"   Between-o...
onana a te ’ono Last 06

274 Flush Fred. t e Mississippi Sport. pl

289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand.

298 Logger Lem; or. Life in the Pine Woods. .

808 Hemlock Hank. Tough and True. ~

815 Flush Fred‘s Double; or. The Squatters' Loaﬁng. i

827 Terrapin Dick. the Wild wood Detective.

887 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp.

848 Dan Dillon. King of Crosscut.

868 The Canyon King; or. a Price on his Read.

488 Flush Fred, the River Sharp.

BY PERCY n. 81‘. JOHN. ‘ l ‘

57 The Silent Hunter. ,. l
86 The Big Hunter: or. The Queen 0! theWoodl,

I

MISCELLANEOUS.

6 Wildcat Bob. By Edward L.Wheeler.. -‘

9 «Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. -.
10 Vidoc , the French Police Spy. By
11 Midsh pman Easy. BgeCaptaln

32 B’hoys of Yale; or. T Scrsprs of
60 Wide Awake, the Robber King. F
68 The Fighting Tra per. By Cs$°JivF

76 The Queen's Mus steers. By ﬁgs Al
78 The Mysterious Spy. By Arthur . Grainzer.
102 The Masked Band By GeorgvevL. Aiken. . ’
110 The Silent Riﬂemen. By H. . Herbert. , . F
125 The Blacksmith Outlaw. By H. Ainaworth.
133 Rody the Rover. By William Carleton.
140 The Three Spaniards. Geo. Walker I ' '
144 The Hunchback of Notre lune. ByVictoi-Hugo.
146 The D0010? Detective. By rge Ismael.
1152 Captain Ironnerve. the Counterfeiter Chief.

158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Powell.
166 Owlet, the Robber Prince. % s. K. Urban.
179 Conrad. the Convict. By Prof. ildersleev . '

uardsmen. B AlexanderDumuff

961 Black Sam, the Prairie underholt. , . 3'
J Yards. ~ By  *

o , .
275 The Smut: ler Cutter. By J. D. Como .  .-
Dylan

190 The Three G

812 Kinktoot l. the Mountain Scourge.
sao ComColt gnaw: City Detecti ' o /

p 6 er vs. . *
850 Flash railcon. the Society DetecﬂvePPy  olden, f,

958 Bart Brennan; or, The V at t '
ByJohn Cuthbert. m .  
866 T111; Telegraph Detective. By George Henry
orse.

no Sarah Brown, Detective. By K. 1'. Hill. ' . .
500 The True-Heart Fords. By Dr. Noel ‘ .
A new m m Wodmday. ‘ I
Boadlo’l Dime Library is lol- sale by "n; 1-
Newsdeslers. ten cents per copy. or sent by mail on . ~
receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS.
Publishers. 8 Williams“ New York.‘
4 .

 
. .304 Texas

.h v.

BEADLE’SrDIMErﬂBRARY. '

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 
r

BY 00L. PREN'I‘ISS INGRAIIAM.

2 The Dare Devil; or, The Winged Sra Witch.
85 The Cretan Rover; or, Zuleikall the Beautiful.
8) The Pirate Prince; or. The Queen of the Isle.
94 Freelance. the Buccaneer.
103 Merle. the Mutlneer; or. The Red Anchor Brand.
104 Montezuma. the Merciless.
100 Captain Kyd. the King of the Black Flag.
116 Black Plume; or. The Sorceress of Hell Gate.
121 The Sea Cadet; or. The Rover oi' the Rigoletts.
128 The Chevalier Corsair; or The Heritage.
131 Buckskin Sam. the Texas Trailer.
184 Darke Dan, the Colored Detective.
139 Fire Sye; or. The Bride of a Buccaneer.
147 Gold pur. the Genlleman from Texas.
155 The Corsair Queen; or, The Gypsies of the Sea.
162 The Mad Mariner; or. Dishonored and Disowned
168 Wild Bill. the Pistol Dead Shot.
172 Black Pirate; or The Golden Fetters Mystery.
177 Don Diablo, the Joiner-Corsair.
181 The Scarlet Schooner; or. The Sea Nemesis.
181 The Ocean Vampire- or. The Castle Heiress.
189 Wild Billie Gold Trail; or. The Des crate Dozen.
198 The Skeleton Schooner; or. The S mmer.
ﬁll The Gambler Pirate; or, lady of the Lagoon.
210 Buccaneer Bess. the Lioness of the Sea.
216 The Corsair Planter: or, Driven to Doom.
can The Specter Yacht; or. A Brother's Crime.
231 Black Beard. the Buccaneer.
B1 The Kid Glove Miner; or, The Magic Doctor.
1185 RedLl htning the Man of Chance.
316 can eleu. the Amazon of the Overland.
255 he Pirate Priest; or. The Gambler’s Da bier.
$0 Cutlass and Cross' or. the Ghouls of the .
931 TheSea Owl; or. The Lady Ca tom of the Gulf.
am The Phantom Pirate; or, The ater Wolves.
818 The Indian buccaneer; or, 'l‘heRed Rovers.
325 The Gentleman Pirate; or. The Casco Hermite.
829 The league of Three: or. Buﬂalo Bill‘s Pledge.
338 The Magic Ship; or, Sandy Hook Freebooters.
341 The Sea Desperado.
846 Ocean Guerrillas; or, Phantom Midshi man.
869 Buffalo Bill‘s Grip; or Oath Bound to uster.
W The Sea Fugitive; or, The Queen of the Coast.
869 The Ghost Corsair; or, The Siren of the Sea.
873 Sailor of Fortune; or. The Barbe at Buccaneer.
877 Aﬂoat and Ashore: or. The Cor Cons to .
888 The Giant Buccaneer: or, The Wrecker itch.
398 The Convict Ca tian.
809 The New onto rlsto.
’418 The Sea n: or. The Fugitive Privateer.
425 The Sea. Sword; or. The Ocean Rivals.
430 The Fatal Frigate or, Rivals in Love and War.
435 The One-Armed uccaneer.
448 Ocean re. the Outcast Corsair.
457 The Sea nsurgent.
«a The Lieuteth Detective.
476 Bob Brent, the Buccaneer.
488 Ocean Tramffls.
489 The Pirate unter
493 The Scouts of the Sea.
510 El Moro. the Corsair Commotion.
516 Chatard, the Dead-Shot Duelist.

BY BUFFALO BILL (lion. W. F. Cody).

52 Death-Trailer. the Chief of Scouts.

83 Gold Bullet S rt; or, Knights of the Overland.
943 The Pilgrim bug); or The Soldier‘s Sweetheart.

ack, he raids Rattler.

819 Wild Bill. the Whirlwind of the West.

894 White Beaver. the Exile of the Platte.

r 897 The Wizard Brothers; or. White Beaver’s Trail.
‘ 401 WArmed Pard: or. Borderland Retribution.
v 414 Bad Renard, the Indian Detective.

BY WILLIAM H. MANNING.
979 '1 19 Gold Dragoon, or. The California Blood-

- boon .
29? Colorado Rube. the Strong Arm of Hotspur.
885 Will Dick Turpin, the Leadville Lion.

‘ , 405 (lid Baldy, the Brigadier 0! Buck Basin.

slot Heart, the Detective S y.

. ' theRivals of Montana Mil .
Vile: Duke: or, The Man of Two Lives.

West Walt. the Mountain Veteran.

kc. King of the Rockies. ,

Yank Yellowblr . the Tall Hustler of the Hills.
Bold Gauntlet. the Gulch Gladiator.
The Duke of Dakota.
Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack.
Kansas Kitten. the Northwest Detective.
Border Bullet. the Prairie sharpshooter.
Central Paciﬁc Paul. the Mail Train Spy.
Uncle Honest. the Peacemaker of Hornets Nest.
Texas Tartar, the Man With Nine Lives.

at CAPTAIN nowann nonmns.
’ W8 Hercules Goldspur the Man of the Velvet Hand.

294 Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy.

, 821 California Claude, the Lone Bandit.

, 885 Flash Dan. the Nabob; or. Blades of Bowie Bar.
, 840 Cool Conrad. the Dakota‘Deiecti .”

852 The rate Dozen.
865 Keen Kennard. the Shasta Shadow.
the Sport of Two Cities.
The Band; or Dread Don of Cool Clan.
The Lost Bonanza: or. The Boot of Silent Hound.
Captain Cozdgnp: or. The New York Spotter.
Captain 00 dgrlp's Name or. Injun Nick.
on  in New ork.
1" her Fe t e Frisco Shadow.
Lucifer Lynx. the Vi onder Detective.
The California Sh .
screams”...
8 ll .
n Cong-rig. the Detective.
p in Des wood.
, theMan withaSeoret. ,1
inc Sam. a Chi of the Old Block.
i Bedilre the 0 Worlds' Detective

Philli‘o u: oehuel s r.
mCapNIX'Veﬁu's Big m

S
.5.
a
5
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see

 
gas

ststéééses

 
BY ALBEII'I‘ ‘V. AIKEN.

27 The Spotter Detective: or. Girls or New York.
31 The New York Sharp; or. The Flash of Lightning.
33 OVerland Kit; or, The lay] of While Pine.
34 Rocky Mountain Bob. the California Outlaw.
35 Kentuck the Sport: or. Dick i‘albot of the Mines.
3b Injun Dick: or, The Death-Shot of Shasta.
88 Velvet Hand; or. In un Dick‘s Iron Grip.
41 Gold Dan: or. The hite Savage of Salt Lake.
42 The California Detective: or The Witches of N.Y.
49 The Wolf Demon; or. The nawha Queen.
56 The Indian Mazeppa: or. Madmun or the Plains.
59 The Man from i‘exas; or. The Arkansas Outlaw.
68 The Winged Whale: or. The Red Rupert of Gulf.
7:3 The Phantom Hand; or The 5th Avenue Hell ess.
75 Gentleman George: or. Parlor. Prison and Street.
77 The Fresh of Prime; or. The Heiress.
79 Joe Phenix. the Police Spyl.
81 The Human Tiger: or. A can of Fire.
84 Hunted Down: or, The League of Three.
91 The Winllin Oar: or. The Innkeeper‘s Daughter.-
98 Captain Dic Talbot. King of the Road.
97 Bronze Jack. the California Thoroughbred.
101 The Man from New York.
107 Richard Talbot. of Cinnabar.
112 Joe Phenix. Private Detective.
110 Captain Volcano or. The Man of Red Revolvers.
161 The Wolves of New York: or. Jae Phenix’s Hunt.
173 California John. the Paciﬁc Thoroughbred.
196 La Marmoset. the Detective Queen.
203 The Double Detective: or,The Midnight Mystery.
$3 The Wall Street Blood; or. The Tele raph Girl.
320 The Genteel Spotter; or The N. Y. N ht Hawk.
849 Iron-Hearted Dink. the Gentleman Row-Agent.
854 Red Richard: or The Crimson Cross Brand.
963 Crowningshleld. the Detective
970 The Dusky Detective: or. Pursued to the End.
876 Black Beards: 01. The Rio Grande Hi h Horse.
881 The Gypsy Gentleman; or Nick Fox. elective.
884 Injun lck. Detective: or. Tracked to New York.
891 Kate Scott. the Decoy Detective.
408 Doc Grin. the Vendetta of Death.
419 The Bat 01 the Battery - or. Joe Phenix. Detective.
425 The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants.
440 The High Hor e of the Paciﬁc.
461 The Fresh on the Rio Grande.
465 The Actor Detective.
475 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective.
490 The Lone Hand in Texas.
497 The Fresh in Texas.

BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR.

281 Three-Fingered Jack the Road -Agent.

so Gospel George; or. Fiery Fred. the Outlaw.

40 Long-Haired Paras; or. The Tarters of the Plains.
45 Old oil's-Eye, the Lightning Shot.

47 Paciﬁc Pete, the Prince of the Revolver.

50 Jack Rabbit, the Prairie S rt.

64 Double-Si ht. the Death S at.

57 The b'oy ockey; or, Honesty vs. Crookedness.
71 Captain Cool Blade: or. Mississip iMan Shark.
88 Big George; or. The Five Outlaw rothers.
105 Dan Brown of Denver: or. The Detective.
119 Alabama Joe; or. The Yazoo Man-Hunters.

127 Sol Scott. the Masked Miner.

141 Equinox Tom. the Bully of Red Rock.

154 Joaquin, the Saddle King.

165 Joaquin. the Terrible

170 Sweet William. the Trapper Detective. »

180 Old '49; or. The Amazon of Arizona.

197 Revolver Rob: or, The Belle of Nugget Camp.

201 Pirate of the Placers; or. Joaquin’s Death Hunt.

233 The Old Boy of Tombstone. ,

941 Spitﬁre Saul. King of the Bustiers.

249 Elephant Tom. of Durango.

257 Death Trap Diggings; or, A Hard Man from
’Way Back.

288 Sleek Sam, the Devil of the Mines.

286 Pistol Johnny; or, One Man in a Thousand.

292 Moke Homer, the Boss Roustabout.

802 Faro Saul. the Handsome Hercules.

817 Frank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective.

824 Old Forked Lightning, the Solitary.

331 Chispa Charley. the Gold Nugget Sport.

839 Spread Eagle Samfthe Hercules Hide Hunter.

845 Masked Mark. the Mounted Detective.

851 Nor‘ West Nick. the Border Detective.

855 Stormy Steve. the Mad‘Athlete. ’

880‘ Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown.

867 A Royal Flush: or, Dan Brown's Big Game.

372 Captain Crisp. the Man with a Record.

879 Howling Jonathan. the Terror from Headwaters.

887 Dirk Durg. the Ishmael of the Hills.

895 Deadly Aim. the Duke of Derringers.

403 The Nameless Sport.

409 Rob Roy Ranch: or. The Imps of Pan Handle.

416 Monte .l’im. the Black Sheep of Bismarck.

4% The Ghost Detective; or, The Spy of the Secret
Service ’

438 Laughing Leo: or, Sam's Dandy Pard.

438 Oklahoma Nicks, 1, g e V \

443 A CoolHand: or, PistolJ vny‘sPionic.

450 The Rustler Detective. .

458 Dutch Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitsenberg.

465 Cid Rough and Ready, the Sage of Sundown.
474 Daddy -Eye. “10' Despot of Dow Drop.

«8 TheT'horoughbred Sport. . ‘
495 Rattlepate Rob; or. The Roundhead’l Reprllel.
504 Solemn SauLthe’Sad Manfred! SanSa'hO.‘ ‘/
514 Gabe Gum, the Grizzly  

ll, V. x 7

BY JACKSON KNOX-“ Old Hawk.”

i 886 Hawk Heron. the Falcon Detective.
‘ 424 Hawk Heron's Deputy.

444 The Magic Detective: or. The Hidden Hand.
, 451 Grlplock, the Rocket Detective.
l 462 The Circus Detective.

467 Mainwanng.-the Salamander.

477 Dead-arm Brandt. I

485 Rowlock, the Harbor Detective.
i 494 The Detective‘s Spy.
501 S rmgsteel Steve, the Retired Detective
509 0d Falcon. the Thunderbolt Detective.
515 Short-Stop Majea the Diamond Field Detective.

B Y LEON LEWIS.

The Flying Glim; or, The Island Lure.

428
456 The Demon Steer.

‘ '481 The Silent Detective; or. The Bogus Nephew.
. 484 Captain Ready, the Red Ransomer.

IIY PHILI'I’ S. WARNE.

1 A HardCrowd; or. Gentlemanﬁam's Sister.

4 The Kidnap er; or The Northwest Shanghai.
29 Tiger-Dick. aro og; or. The Cashier‘s Crime.
54 Always on Hand; or. The Foot~Hills Sport.

80 A Man of Nerve; or. Caliban the Dwarf.
114 The Gentleman from Pike.
171 Tiger Dick. the Man of the Iron Heart.
907 0 Hard Head: or. Whirlwind and his Mare.
251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Des ard.
280 Tiger Dick‘s Lone Han .
299 Three of a Kind; or, Tiger Dick. iron Despard
and the Sportive Sport.
888 Jack Sands. the Boss of the Town.
359 Yellow Jack. the Mestizo
980 Tiger Dick’s Pledge; or, The Golden Sean
404 Silver Bid; or, A ‘ ais “ Bluﬂ.
431 California Kit. the Always on Hand.
472 Six Foot Si; or, The Man to “ Tie To,"
502 Bareback Buck. the Centaur of the Plains.

LATEST AND NEW ISSUES.

517 Buffalo Bill's First Trail. By Ned Buntllne.
518 R0 ago Richard, the Thoroughbred. By J. W.
s n.

519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Ranger. By .T. 'C.
Cowdric .

520 ThAeikLone Hand on the Caddo. By Albert w.
en
521 Paradise Sam, the Nor’-West Pilot. By Wm. H.
Manning.

522 The Champion Three. By P. S. Warns.
523 Regulus! of Red Jack' or. The Lost Detective.
y Capt. Howard Ho mes.
524 The Sea Chaser' or, The Pirate Noble. 'By Col.
Prentiss Ingr am.
525 Fresh Frank. the Derringer Daisy. By Wm. B.

Eyster.

525 Death-G p, the Tehderfoot Detective. By Geo.
C. Jenks.

597 Dead Andy, the Diamond Detective. By Joe
E. get. 1'.

528 Hucklebe the Foot-Hills Detective. By
Lieut. A. . Sims.

529 The Fresh in New York. By Albert W. Aiken.

580 The Savages of the Sea. By 00L P. Ingraham.

581 Saddle-Chief Kit, the Prairie Centaur. By Wm
H. manning.

532 Jack Javert, the Independent Detective. By

. Capt. Howard Holmes.

58% Oregon. the Sport WithaScar. By W. R. Eyster.

584 Green Mountain Joe; or The Counterfeiter'a

‘ Cave. By Marmaduke Day.

585 Dandv Dutch. the Decorator from Dead-Lift.
By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

586 Old Falcon’s Fee: or. The Matchless Detective'a
Swell Job. By Jackson Knox.

587 Blake the Mountain Lion: 01'. e Fresh against
the Ii'ield. By Albert W. Align.

538 Burbs Socket, the Tent Detectivo. By George C.

en '5.

589 Old Doubledark. the Wily Detective. By Wm
H. Manning.

1540 The Fleet Scourge; z... The SeaWings of Salem.
By Col. P. Ingraham.
511 Ma or M e the Man of Nerve: or. The Muck-
aémllckasggf nimas. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
542 The Ocean Drift; or, The Fight for Two Lives.
By A. F. Holt.
Th M ate Detective or. Ma or Million‘s
“8 Jﬁlustavﬁllh the Witch. y Capt. . Holmes.»
Th Back to Back Pards' or, The Right Man in
m the Wrong Place. By Philip s. Warhe.
1 He. . the Cowbo Sport; or Daring
“5 “with? General Delivyery. By William G.
Patten. Ready Aprils .
‘ ‘h Doomed Whaler or The Life Wreck. By
 TCeol. Prentiss liamf Ready April 10. 1
547 The Buried Detective- or. SauLSunday's Sensa‘
. tion. By Joe. 1:. Badger. Jr. malignant-i1 17.
MT!» 5 xDetoctivo. By Jackson ox.
.v Malian“; 'm r , Tyh ' m
' hHand the 0 ve snot-or 0 Mar
w suntan ofﬂlzona. By Capt. Howird Holmes. .
' Ready y 1- , .

‘ I Awkwaemw'WM' av.

'Beullezl I’lme Lunar/rid tor
New-dealers. ten cents per copy, or
receipt at twelve cent; cash".ms . V

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