APRIL, 1895. ‘E‘ . l’nm' 0mm N 1 A YIHHH' ('0 K. m (, Y w n N T A K .E m‘ M w. A m L D. N U C E S S A m R E T r 18%, mi JAMES SULLIVAN. hers, lished Every ubl Puomnc'ron), 00 a Year. $1 . u‘nx\\\N\\ . Ten Cent: 8. Copy I‘M/fl” 18 v ‘ _ AMES SULLIVAN 379 Pearl Street. New York. (J M nth Pub s‘fi. 2 .. , Luke, the Life-Saver. % lute. the. Life-Saver; The Wreckers of Bell-Point Light. A Story of thsLsst of the Shinnecocks. BY TOM W. KING. CHAPTER I. - 'rns: wancx or run Jnssrn. Boom Low and sullen, the muflied roar of the min- ute-gun run over the wild waste of waters that r nonmpasse the doomed ship, as she flew before i howling 'blast toward her destruction. imml and again the cannon rolled out its :. peal from brazen throat, while, at the same in. merit, a rocket flew hissing into the air, leav- ing a long, fiery trail of sparks behind it, finally tweaking into a thousand coruscatiOns. As the cloud of sparks died away, the night seemed yet blacker, and save for the foam that capped the waves, as they rushed by like white- ‘ manedsteeds, all was as ebony-hued as Erebus. 'l‘he decks were crowded, and clinging one to the other, the women moaned and shrieked and prayed. half-paralyzed with fear and the agony of approaching death, and wholly benumbed with cold. The hurricane increased in violence; the thun- ders crashed as if they would burst the vault of heaven asunder, while the wind, howling‘ through the torn rigging, seemed to yell like the spirits of the damned, exulting in the ap- proaching calamity. At once the inky pail show was rent from zenith to nadir, and, as the forked lightning flashed the whole name into bri litness, the blue glare laid before the horrific on-lookers the wild scene of danger, destruction and death that confrontal them. Right on the lee bow, and scarce a half-dozen oahle-lengthsdistant, frowned a jutting crag, its base buried in the wildly-lashing waves, its sum- mit lost in the low-lying clouds of flying scud which swept over it, driven before the gale; and onto this iron~jawed cliil? the ship was driving with terrible rapidity. The best bowers both gone—the iron cable- ohains havin snapped like thread the moment . the anchor-flu es grounded, all hopes of saving the vessel were futile, and the cooler heads on board began their preparations to meet the shock, while the weaker ones, abandoning them- selves completoly to the terror which palsied their very tongues, groveled to the deck, crouch- ing low in the ice-cold water which poured over . the bulwarks, and hid their faces in their hands, to shut out from their sight the fearful no- rama spread before them, although it was ndel- i'il ' imprinted on their whirlin brains. tandmg by the lee mizzen-sgrouds, with one band tightly g ing the ice-clad ropes, his other arm enoirc g a woman, who nestled close to his broad breast, stood the captain of the good ship Jessie. from Canton to New York, I idea with teas and Chinese stuffs. He had done all that mortal man could do to avoid the present peril, but when, a few hours before, a wave of more than ordinary wer h'ld carried away the stem-post and is t the rudder dangling and ban ing at the ship’s side, l so some hungry leviat an knocking for en- I wince, he became powerless, and prepared for the worst—and the worst in such cases i vvariably means death. The maddened sailors—maddened by fear and cm drink—they having broken‘ into the spirit- “ )(u and drank until they had become more like | ht’flllOflfl than like men, while these n was in his cabin, consulting bis chart—ha endeavored ; t » seize and launch the boats, of which but tchi ‘ the long-boat and the captain’s gig, romaine uninjured, the others having been stove shortly . after the accident to the rudder. 'l‘wme had the ca tain’s pistol flashed, twice ‘ had its report been and far above the shriek- ing of the tempest, and the souls of two of the f mutinsers bad swept off upon the ale, before ' 1 order had in a measure been restores, Lyin in the lee-scuppers and washing hither and thi nor as the vessel rolled and plunged, lay the body of the chief mate, a ghast y wound in his head from which the blood oozed.bearing witness that his life had been lost in endsev_ . g to prevent the turbulent spirits from satisfy. their craving for the demon, alcohol. Near the captain, and also clinging to the shrouds, stood. s vaying with the motion of the vessel, a tall, bronzed sailor, whose. skin of that bright copper color which proclaims the red- mnn, stamped him as an Indian. And this he was: an Indian belonging to the tribe of the Shinnecocks~a tribe that was on Long Island when our forefathers landed there, and a tribe which, extending the hand of fellow- I ship to the whites, alwa s was a firm friend to them until the last of 11 race went down to his death, under the boiling sea. sheltered in his arms he held aoling- lug , a golden-haired, dainty creature, that' as little fitted for thiswiid sceneasan I infant to a scene of carnage, and whose wide- opened blue eyes, looking up into the face of her protector, bore that look which the stricken deer turns upon the hunter that has wounded it. “ Winnemuka,” it was the captain who 8 oke, “ the shock cannot long delav. I intrust L llian to your care—mine must be irs. Grace,“ and be designated his wife at his side. “ Should aught befall us”—and the low, deep tones, heard so distinctly above the pande- monium that reigned, trembled for an instant, as he faltered at the thou rht of his young wife care of the child—her parents, relatives and friends live in—” a louder shriek than any that had preceded it rung out on the hellish uproar, a shriek so intense in its a ony that the captain paused and turned his heag. As if, gathered in one mighty mass, the entire to which all others seemed pigmies, reared its hanging for a moment, fell like a crushing ava- And as the salt mass fell, striking with the mighty timbers, the forged irons the hewn spars, were crushed and tWisted and broken like reeds, while mingled with the crashing masses of wreckage were a hundred human beings; some dashed into instant death, others, less for— tunate, endeavorlng in vain to extricate them— I selves from the grinding moil and turmoil into . which they had been buried. ' Captain Grace. on catching sight of this new 1 danger that threatened them, and knowing that l almost instant death awaited them if they re- I l tained their posts, turned to .leap overboard, ; hoping almOst against hope, that he would be , able to reach the land with his precious burden —denrer to him than cxnstcnce—his young, six- 1 months’ bride— Jessie. I But the wind, as if furthering the plans of its ‘ ally, the sea, had entwined and hustled the poor l girl’s garments in and out of the shrouds, and l while her husband was laboring, with tearing fingers, to release her, the blow came, and, locked in each other’s arms, eye reading in eye that death together was better than life apart, they were dashed to instant insensibilityagainst ‘ the cruel bulwarks by the crueler waters, and never drew breath again. their requiem the ‘ howling of the Winds. the cries of the dying, the crunching of iron and wood and thundering of the waters, as they, too, went down into the mat lstrom beneath. Before the wave that had wrought ; such destruction broken, however, and still , hung as if gloating over its prey, with yawning : maw, like a hungry lion the Shinnecock had I thered the chil .cloeer n his arms, encircling ! gr form with a piece of rope hastily cut from . a signal halliard hanging near by, swinging in ! the wind, and tying her fast to his bod ; then, i l , with one last look at his captain, a loo of de- ; votion which seemed to say: “I will be true so - my trust!” he turned and leaped into the seeth— ‘ } ing flood below, and in an instant was lost to I view as the waves tossed and tumbled about him I like a leaf. And in a moment more the vessel, or what ‘ was left of it, struck with a terrific shock, and the waters were strewn far and Wide with the floating witnesses of the fearful tragedy which had just been enacted, and of which not a livigg soul who was on board when theon stru survived to tell the tale. : CHAPTER II. ' A HIROINE. ' “ A unmet: ni ht, Bill.”reinarksd one of the weather-beaten eepers at Bell- Point Light- house, on the evening in question as, with his night-glass in his hand, he strove in vain to pierce the loom, while his oil skins streamed with the sa t spray blown high in the air, and his huge sou’wester, tied flrnily over his ears, flapped about his face as the gale struggled with it and endeavored to wrench it from his head. "A fearful night indeed, from,” returned his comrade, alike so weather-beaten, so grizzled, so wrapped in oil skins and sou’wester as to appear ‘ the t ~ in brother of the other: “ an’ many a poor , soul ’11 go to Davy J ones’s locker before the gale 5 breaks. The light’s not 0’ much service in such * a blow as this,” gazing as he spoke, at the flash. - l . ; ing lantern which gleamed shave their heads . like a great yellow e e looking out over the see. right; for he mist an’ scud hides it a "Ye re I -halfvmile from shore Say, Bill, d'ye rek’lcct the las’ blow we had, summat like this ’ere ’un? In‘lways said that there ne’er 'd such another, ! an, if there was we’i see the‘ Injun - Great 1 Bill! look you about two p’ints to the ' south’ard cyan rock—d‘ye see an think i” ! Bin look , and then, with a w dcry of ter— ‘ ' ror, fled, closely followed by his frightened com- panion, who pantineg brought up the rear. 3 while neither stopped until safel ensconced within ,the stone walls of the li t-house, the door of which they firmly bol and barred, and then hurried up the winding stain which led td'the top. Mohing Hie hutcrn, they called to their ..‘ -not of himself; “shoul aught befall us, take ‘ volume of the salt seas had been marshaled to 3 cheat the rocks of their prey, a towering wave, l ‘ giant crest aloft, far above the cross-trees, and ' lanche, full upon the doomed craft. I l I weight of many tons down upon the deck, the ; partner who was on the watch, and the three stepped out onto the iron balcony which sur- rounded the structure. Here the felt the full force and fury of the hurricane, or hurricane it had become by this time. High up as they were the wind tore and pull- ed them, until they were compelled to grasp the iron railing with both bands, to escape being blown away and swept far out to sea; while the tall building swayed and trembled as if about to topple over to the stony ground beneath. In silence—for their voices could not be heard amid the warring of the elements—they stood and looked, their awa increased by the presence of_that superstition which seems innate with all sailors. Not far from shore, and where, on account of the greater shallownese of the waters,the "V86 were lashed into tumultubus fury, surrounded bya pale, unearthly glow which appeared to come from no particular point but to inwrap and infold the little craft like an illuminated vail, danced a boat, a vefitM’cockle-sbell, which seemed like straw ou'the waters, 50 “gm- ly was it tossed and flung about. At one moment it was tossed high in the air, and seemed so poised on the top of the wave ‘ that the b0w and stern hung suspended. The next it was ingulfed between the glassy moun- tains which reared their sides of opaque green, c far above it on either side, and as it disappeared the on-lookers held their breath, as if nevor ix¥ pecting to see the boat reappear. Seated amidsbips, an oar in each hand, sat a girl, her long black hair streaming in tie Wind her head and arms bare, and her form clotho-d in a garment of creamy white which rendered her appearance still more unearthly. Staring straight toward the wake that could source be traced in the foaming see, her holy swayed to and fro like clock-work, wmlu me oars, churning the salt waters into a still greater mass of foam, rose and fell in perfecn rhythm us the boat shot forward through the breakers. She seemed like the spirzt of the storm. the . guardian of the winds and waves, as she pur— sued her courseyteadily, unvaryingly, toward the west. As the dim light gre w dimmer and the eyes of , the three keepers v‘ere strained to keep her lil , Bight. I sudden crash was heard, and in un in~ stunt they were in total darkness; is Wild fo 1, bewildered by the glare cf the light, had do” I d against one of the shielding panes of glass and shivered it into a thousand pieces. falling to the} base of the tower, mead, while the is, finding free entrance, extinguished the amps in a, twinkins‘. in a moment the men had groped their way inside thn lantern and set about repairing the damage done, for it was of Vital importance that they should re-iiiuminato the lam as soon as practicable, even though they can d not be seen far out at sea. _ It was a work of no easy accomplishment, and whi e Tom and the other Keeper descended the long stairs that led to the bottom in search of another sash Bill remained in the lantern watchin with superstitious awe the dim light which a one denoted the presence of the myg. terious maiden, and as he looked, a half-sup- ressed cry arose to his lips, for, dashing right down on the frail craft which seemed so mirac. ulously to ride the lashing waves, came . schooner scuddin before the breeze, undo] close-recited jib an mainsail, while the m mils. hanging in shreds, showed that they ha been blown bodin from their bolt-ropes. The wind had lulled for a moment, and the mist having become less dense. the trained eyes of the old sailor were enabled to pierce the gloom, and trace the outlines of the vessel, 83, likea reyhound when the leash is slipped she dash onward toward the. pointed rocks than guarded the coast with their J.gged teeth and cruel fangs of granite. ' And nOW, if ever, the light should be burning, for the tired lookout, blinded by the man spray, could not see the coast, nor could he hear tne oud roaring of the breakers, as the wind was blowmu directly on shore. With a c of horror at the impending cataso ‘ tro be,the o d light-house keeper closed his eyes, an shut his ears to keep out the dying shriek! of the drowning; but in a moment turned again and looked. But what miracle is this! Instead of seeing the schooner hug-fling her wooden bows against the beetling ruvli r. Mr helm had_been put down, and, close-home". we was heatng southeast. on the larbosl‘d W0“. and throwing the White masses of foam far above her cat-head, was rapidly leaving In her wake the angry waters which n udly ll 91"?“ and dashed among the half-hidden rocks. as“? m ""3 l at being baffled of their prey. As the schooner slid off into the darlmFSE “‘9 keeper, with a sigh of relief. turned to aha thi”. and opening it, stood at the to? d ; £123)? listening for the ascending “098"!” 0 mi in: rades' but all was silent -- “1° ve’n'iin so deedhthetgvinding mg mg? ”° '3 muc as e entrance I 7‘ ' depar- Time sumcie t had 01‘?“ an“ the" ' ture for the twb men to M" "ml ed Vim “I. -"O-I ‘ ta“ Lr'fl'fi‘flt‘f‘ :‘w‘fflrfi'.’ ‘ <>4_-. :4.- a l r ctr-mew. My? ‘1 up. ., A." ... 1’ “Li; .J‘ :m- .. _.,.,.-....—v ..,. 391"" x .1' ~43, '. ' i 5 :‘i ‘i‘ A; ,- ai ' :2“: J Luke, the 7 Life-Saver. I." \? sash, and thinking that they might have met with some trouble in handlin it, the keeper be- gan to feel his way cautious y down the stone steps, groping with his hands outstretched on the stone walls on either side, for he had no light, and all was of a pitchy darkness. An his feet encountered the stone landing at the bottom of the long staircase, he called out to his fellow—keeper: " Tom! Tom l” But there was no response—n0 sound came back to him, save the hollow reverberation of 1 his voice as it rung through the light-house, . echoing against its massive walls with a mourn- ‘ ful sound. He began to grow uneasy,for he saw no glim- I mer of light, and as the closet wherein were kept the oil, wicks, extra sashes and other articles used in keeping the light in order, was not far off, being but a few paces to his right, the silence was inexplicable. Turning, he was proceeding slowly toward the Closet, when his foot encountered an obstacle, and, steeping, his hand came in contact with a hum/an face, which, though still warm, was wet. “ My God!" he cried, “ what is this?” and he staggered back, just as a blindin glare flashed in his face and a harsh voice gru y said: “ This is what it is, ye howlin’ bloke!” and a bludgeon descended with crushing force on his head, and he fell insensible to the cold stones beneath. With a curse, the ruflian who had felled him, opening Wide his lantern, sprung over the body, and, leaping upon the steps, three at a time, was soon in the lantern. “This cursed lamp ain’t a-goin‘ to burn no more this yere night,’ he growled. “ The wreck- ers are a-suflerin’ an’ must have work,”and tak- ing the wicks from the half-dozen lamps that served as beacons, he threw them out of the broken window, and then, leaning out, he looked Out toward the east. This pause was fatal to him! As he was gazing with Wild, exultant joy to- ward the sea, wherea white-winged bark was holding her course straight on shore, he mutter- ed to himself : “ Ah, ha, my beauty, come on! Your bones will soon lie on yonder reef and our cargo will "be ours, ours, ours I” and with a endish chuckle he turned toward the doci. But there, all robed in black stOodafemale form, her white face framed in the darknes< he- hind her, like a waxen mash, her teeth clinchecl_ and her right hand raised toa level with her eye. There was a sharp report, and as the flash came gleaming toward him, the deadly bullet entered his forehead, piercing what of brain he had, and with a groan and smothered curse, the wrecker and murderer fell forward on his face, stone dead. Quickly barring the door, the girl, lighting a wax-taper—for the wind had shifted suddenly from the south to the northeast, hurriedly ap- proached the lam s to relight them, casting a glance at the rap dl approaching bark, dimly seen through the dar ness, as she did so. “ Heavens I” she shrieked, “ there are no wicks in the lamps I” For a moment she Was palsied then, with an inspiration that Seemed almost divine, she tore from her frail form the light cotton dress she wore. steeped it in the inflammable oil that filled the lamps, and touching her taper to it, saw it leap into flame as flashes the gunpo‘vder when 7. the spark is applied, and throwing it into the I oil, realized that the flare would burn for some moments at least, and the ship be saved; then reeling. she fell, faintin to the floor, her hand touching the pool of b ood which had flowed from the forehead of the dead wrecker! CHAPTER III. SAVED AND Leer. As Winnemuka and his charge 1‘ ed into the bitter waters, that closed over t eir eadsas if to crush them in their ice-cold embrace, it seemed an if the Indian had, of two deaths, chosen the easier, for it did not appear as if it were within the power of mortal man to battle with the lashing waves that encompa-ed him, and, for a while, seemed to toy with him as does a cat with a mouse. Now he was flung so high that his breath al— mos -. forsook his body, and then dropped like a meteor to the depths of the yawnin gulf, be- tween the masses of water; buffeted, ruined, half-stunned by the re ted blows from the hurtlin waves; half-stifled with the salt spray that filed his mouth, his nostrils, his ears, his eyes; turned and tWisted, taking advan e of every instant to asp for a mouthful of resh air; be yet held t 6 child as high up above him as the binding cord would admit, so that even when he was submerged the little creature who clung to him so confldingly was often free to breathe the free air, which seemed so sweet to his tired lungs when he could inhale it. But at length tired nature could do no more, and when, as he rose high on a mountain wave ind gazed at the beetling clifl’s, he saw with 1 horror that the tide had carried him far to the j westward of the island, hope unfolded her pin- | ions and fled, and the Indian threw up his arms i high above his head, and with a cry ! “ Like some strong swxmmer in his agony," sunk down deep beneath the whelming waters, faithful unto death, lifting the child he had learned to love during the voyage still higher as he sunk. . But as he rose for the second time, a dark mass Seemed to fall from the heaVens above, while close by loomed an indistinpt shape which he thought must be some solitary rock, and with § the instinct of a drowning man, he clutched out to graspnnything his fingers might come in con- tact wu n . But at that moment a strong, fresh young voim clue lo his ear called out: “ Courr. w, my man, and we’ll see if we can’t save you 3” and he felt a vigorous, muscular hand, that grasped him below the shoulder, and sustaining him, enabled him to in some measure regain his breath; for the tide had by this time swept him under the lee of the island, and there ‘ the water was comparatively smooth. With that new—born courage which unexpect- ed aid always instills, the Indian in a few inc» meats almost regained his strength, and was enabled to aid his rescuer in the double duty of sustaining himself and his precious charge. Not far off, and rocking on the long swells that rolled in from the Atlantic, a port-ti re was hiss- ing andzblazing, lighting up the surface of the waters with a lurid glare, denoting that a life- buoy had been thrown over from some craft. Toward this they swam with long and powerful strokes and soon reached it. Then the boy life- saver and the brave Indian placed the still con- scious child in safety thereon, supporting them- selves with ease by the loops at the side. Soon the measured beat of oars was heard, and bounding over the waters in the direction of the ortfii‘e, came a yau l, propelled by six stur y oarsmen, who, bending with a will to their work, bent the strong ash like willow wands, while the thole-pins creaked beneath the sinewy arms of the sailors, and in a few short - minutes the rough tars, with hands as tender in their touch as a woman’s, had lifted little Lillian into the stern-sheets, where a bed was quickly spread for her, pea—jackets being used, and she was covered up as careful] as if a mother were caring for her dariing, while the Indian and his rescuer scrambled on board as best they could, dragging the life-buoy which had proven their salvation after thum, when the word was given, and the yawl shot away in the direction of the schooner which, hove to, awaited them a half- mile to leeward. The boat was soon alongside, and the falls be- ing hooked on, was quickly hoisted to the davits, and the jib being hoisted a trifle, the schooner began to pay off, and with the wind on her lar- board quarter, stood off on her course, while Lillian, taken below, was cared for by the cap- tain’s wife, and being undressed and warmed, sunk into the peaceful slumber knowu onlyto childhood and innocence, the Indian being fur- nished with dry clothing by his preserver. The gale raged with unceasing violence; the darkness hung like a pail over the waters which, beneath the shadow or me heavens, were as black as they, while the stench little schooner neld her own bravely, shaking her bows impa- ; tiently as the salt waves at times poured over them as she went “ nose under. ” Crouching low in the bows, and shielded some- what' by the bulwarks, which were somewhat high for a Vessel of her tonnage, the Indian and the lad who had rescued him were conversing earnestly. The latter was as fine a specimen of the Amer- ican youth as can be met in many a day’s jour- ney, and wore a winning, manly look that gave perfect confidence. Tall, slender yet muscularly built, with close- out, curling chestnut hair, and frank, brown eyes, he did not appear more than sixteen, yet!l be had passed his eighteenth birthday. There was a certain look of sadness about his month which was also set in lines of sternness that u seemnd out of place on the face of One so young; l but he had seen much of the dark side of life, i had lost both of his parents while yet a mere child, and his experience had left its stamp and im res: on his face. 0 was relating to Winnemuka the weird ex- periences of a few hours before- how theschoon- er, he being at the helm, had been headed straight for the rocks that lie off Bell-Point Light; how the light, throu h some fault of the keeper, was not burning, an how the lookout, tired and un- I able to see through the spray and darkness, had , not discovered their dangerous proximityto the ' coast, and how a few moments longer would , have dashed their craft on the jag ed reef, when, without a sound to warn him of or res- . once, a girl-~an Indian maiden—and here h lis- tener started—had glided to his 'de, slow .but with a strength wonderful in o e so fr Heck- I‘ ing, had put the helm hard down, while be, though dumfounded, had sense of duty enough I left to haul in the main-sheet, when the vessel, ‘ sailing almost in the Wind‘s eye, began to beat her way to the southeast, while the roar of the breakers became distinctly audible as they left, the shore under their larboard quarter and held on their course. ’ As the maiden beckoned to him he returned and relieved her of the tiller, and then calling forward ordered the lookout to haul down the jib—sheet, for that sail was flapping violently, when, turning to speak to the girl, he found her no longer at his side, but ina moment saw a dim, mysterious light under the schooner’s counter, and just then alight Wherry shot off over the waves, the girl being seated at the cars and uh- ing away over the stormy sea as indifferent yas if on the most placid inland lake. The lad could not comprehend it, and being just then relievr d of his trick at the wheel, leaned over the side in deep thought, when he saw somebody saruggling in the water, when, cutting the life—buoy loose and calling out “ Man overboard l” he plunged into the am and arrivrd just in time. Again the Indian grasped his hand and again thanked him, as he had a thousand times; but the lad blushed like a irl, and saying that it. was time to turn in, we] ed aft to the binnacle, and then with a pleasant “good-night” to the man at the wheel, descended to the cabin where his bunk was——he being first mate of the Spray, as the schooner was called, paused for an in» stant, while a smile played about his lips, to gaze at the little child he had saved, for whom a. gomfortable bed had been made upon the cabin oor. But as he looked there was a sudden uproar on deck; the rudder-chains rattled as in answer to a shout from the lookout of “ Hard-a-lee!” came the response “ Ay, ay, sir,” and the whrel 5 un round, just as there came a tremendous t ud that threw him off his feet, followed by a. crashing and a tearing sound that was fairly sickening; while the little schooner heeled over, and over, until she lay on her beam-ends and then began to settle, slowly but surely, down t» the bottom of the ever-voracious sea, and the water came pouring in through the companion- way, flooding the cabin and startling the child from her deep slumber. The storm-lantern, swinging in the little cabin, cast a dim, sickly light, and the little girl, seeing the lad, stretched out her little hands to him with a piteous appeal for help; so scrambling to her as best he might, be raised and clasped her in his strong young arms, and then, struggling through the streaming flood, was itchc headlong into the ocean, as the vesse lurched and then went down, forever lest tothe sight of man, dragging him dot-p under the water with the suction caused by her sinkii r ,1, But, powerful swimmer as he was, he did Let. remain long under water, and risin to the sur-7 face, shook the water from his hea as a New-- foundlaud dog shakes the drops from ‘iis shagg y coat, and looked about him. Scudding oil"l without delayin her course to see what damage she had wrong t, what assist- ance her crew might render to the poor unfor— tunates struggling in the pitiless waters, was a full-rigged ship, carrying a cloud of canvas, even that gale, and staggering under its weight like a drunken man, while the Tab :- boiled and bubbled away from her bows, ‘m ring a long line of foam in her wake. Hurlin a malediction after her from hetwetn. his clinc ed teeth, the lad, noting a strange, fierce light that illumined the heavens a half- mile from where he was struggling, struck out in that direction, wondering, even amid his ef- forts, which were almost superhuman, what mvstery this could be. e realized that he must be somewhere in the vicinity of Bell-Point Light, but surel no lam in Government light-house ever gave orth suc . a glare as that; at this was no time for conjec~ tures. But at t esame time he could but feel discouraged at this second, coming upon this point, for in beating up the coast it had been necessary to {Smack and leave the light many times, and y?) e first approach he had been mved from wreck by mysterious interposition, while the second time found him struggling in the water. A weakness came over him, a roar» ing thatcam not altogether from the beating; waters so ed in his ears, and he was fast loo. ing consciousness when a dim, subdued light stole over the waters toward him and a light boat approached rapidl , with no sound of cars, and reaching his side he Indian maiden who had before aided him eaned over, lifted the ex» haustcd child into the boat, and motioned the lad. toclimb over the stern, aiding him materially with her slight strength, for he was so exhaust- ed that it was with the greatest difficulty that he scrambled in when he fell to the bottom of the host, completely worn out. But the oarsman, if such the ' i can be called, paid no attention to him, bu bent reso- lutely to her work, and the little boat bounded over the waves, dancing like a cork over the tumbling waters, until finally it drew into a little cove. sheltered from the winds, where its bow grated on the shelving beach, when the boy, rested by this time, raised himself to his feet, lifted the child in his arms and stepped out onto the sand', the little girl nestling close to him, and closely wrapped in a warm shawl which the In- dian girl had produced from some mysterious \ L . 1y... ‘mfi’nog, 8V grands 27%? {212-3 1‘ r @MSTS‘ I .1 " f "'Y A. (1' 214. H 2” ,'r7 u n 6 o - 1 “179314272191, HO‘IAVJ. A MWNW LLS‘I'T Pin") Oi 'eJuMizieq ‘JaAOG recess and had wrapped around her, and which warmed and comforted her. I Before the lad Could turn to thank the girl, the boat was backed out and in an instant disap— ' peered around the jutting bluff that sheltered the cove. And the little girl, clasping her warm, em- 3 bracing, tiny little hands close, looked up in his face and lisped: “ I love ’00! What is ’00 name?” And the lad, kissing the golden hair of the little angel, answered tender] ’. “ They call me ‘ Luke, the ife-Saver,’ my lit- tle pet.” “ Then you are just the lad we’re arter, so V come along, my cherub, and don’t ride rusty,” , '1 saida gruff voice close to his ear, as a heavy j ‘ hand was laid on his shoulder, and the sharp , click of a revolver sounded close to his ear. Luke was in the hands of the Wreckers of the Bell-Point Light, his deadliest enemies, and whom he had often thwarted in their evil plans. CHAPTER IV. Damon! LUKE must perforce submit, for the cold ring of steel was pressed close to his temple, and he realized that resistance meant instant death, 0, with no demur, he submitted with the best grace ‘ 'he could command to the rough handling wnich he had to undergo before he was as firmly bound . as his captors thought necessary to prevent his ‘ l esca . Folllaowing his captors for some little distance, " still carrying the little Lillian in his arms. they suddenly stopped and roughly bandaged his eyes after which a rough hand was laid on each shoulder and he was shoved rather than led along, stumbling over the rocks that incumbered , the path that they were traversing, which led ‘ led up the side of the blufl'. Soon he was ordered to stoop, and not obey- ing very promptly, received a sharp blow on his forehead from which the blood began to trickle, ' so bending low, in this uncomfortable position he was marched for some distance until at length the sound of boisterous laughter and the light that ierced the bandage over his eyes led . him to be eve that they had arrived at their destination. , And such was the case, for the strip of canvas being untied, a glare of light burst upon him, dazzling and confusing him for a moment, until his eyes became accustomed to the blaze, when 'he looked around him. He found himself in a large vaulted chamber, 'hewn out of the solid rock, and in the presence of fifteen or twenty men, who were scattered about, some playing cards and wrangling and jangling over their gains and losses' others drinkin dee ly from huge goblets, which they Lillie, the, 11112373???- the arin-chair, sprung to their feet, and many a hand sought pistol and knife as they glared at the defenseless youth. But the captain, glaring around, commanded silence, and again addressed Ransom: “ And where found you him?” “ In the neighborhood of Sandy Cove, wring— ing wet as you see him, captain, and with the child in his arms. He has evidently suffered shipwreck, I should th—” “ Keep your opinions to yourself until they are asked for ” thundered Wrake, and turning to the boy he addressed him: “What were you doing and how came you there, boy?” “I answer no questions while bound like a criminal. By what authority do you thus make ‘ me prisoner?” haughtily returned the lad, as he ! drew himself proudly up. 3 “Take care; take care, my fine fellow,” cau- tioned Wrake, as a dark and angry flush over- spread his features. “ When tongues wag too loosely here, we have means of stopping them.” “Yours the power; I say no more till loos- ened,” and the boy turned awe? indifferently, his bound hands, tied in front 0 him, still sup- porting the child, whose blue eyes grew bluer as sh; watched this scene, yet uttered never a scan . j‘ “ Unbind him,” ordered the chief, curtly; and in an instant a keen knife had severed the cords, and the boy stood free. " Now, then—how came you by that child, and how came you here?” “I rescued the child from the waves; the schooner l was on was afterward run down by an unknown ship; I was picked up by an Indian maiden, in a light wherry, and landed where your fellow-robber found me.” At the name of the Indian maiden there was an evident sensation in the band, and some of the men shrunk back, as fearing the person whom she had taken under her protection; but at the word “robber” the chief scowled still more deeply, yet restrained his passion once again. “Truly a dainty creature you have there. Say, my little one, will you stay with us and be our little queen? See what 1 can give you.” and drawing from the desk behind him a mass of unset jewels he poured them from one hand to the other, their cut surfaces sparkling and glowing in the many different lights with all , the colors of the rainbow; the sight was a daz- ; sling one, and f0r a moment the child was en- | tranced. i Slidin from Luke’s arms, he willingly sub- ! mitting er to the test to see whether she would come out of the crucible of temptation dross or pure gold, with finger on lip, eyes wide-open, she i advanced step by step toward the glistening replenis ed rom time to time from casks and ; shower; but suddenly she stopped, hesitated, barrels ranged along the rocky walls around I looked u in the dark face before her, and then, the hall, while scattered here and there and ' 1 ing on bales of merchandise, carpets and rich I s wls, were half a dozen of the band, vwho; had succumbed either to the fumes of the : liquor they had drank, or to fatigue, and were fast asleep. Seated apart, in front of a magnificent ma- hogany desk, which had been plundered from some ill-fated vessel, lured to her destruction by the false signals displayed by the wreckers, the papers he was consulting lit up by two massive six-branched candelabra, containing the finest wax candles, set the man who, from his dress and general air of authority, seemed the chief, in deep consultation with one of his band, who, almost effeminate in appearance, lou ed in a satin-covered arm—chair, while he dainti y toyed with his cigarette. turning, eaped into Luke’s arms, her golden curls shining and falling over her pretty face, while she Bantineg lisped: “ o ’wa , bad man; me hate ’00; me love Luke,” whi e the boisterous laughter of the wild crew, delighted attheirchief’s discomfiture, rung loudly through the vaulted cabin. Without a word the captain returned the jew- els to his desk, several of them rolling unheeded to the floor, and then, his face pale with anger, he strode toward the trembling child, trembling with fear now for the first time, and put out his hands to seize her, crying, with an oath and in a deep voice that proved how deeply rage had taken possession of him: “ By Heaven, you shall give me a kiss. my baby, if you won’t have my jewels !” and he The means of illumination in the cavern were as diversified as were the different types of men scattered about; here hung a storm-lantern giv- ing forth a smoky flame; there a silver lamp intended by some pious soul as a votive offering to Our Lady of the seas, but lnndered to illu’ grasped the tenderinfant—for infant she was, ut six summers having shed their dews on her , sunny head—roughly by the arm, his cruel fin- } gers sinking deeply into the delicate flesh, and ; leaving marks that Were visible for manya long 1 day afterward. I t the movement Luke drew back a pace; .mine the wrecker’s cave; a ongside was that. then, springing forward with the agility of the modern and mischievous kerosene lamp, while dangling about and throwing grotesque shadows fiom the still more grotesque figures painted on t em. _ Chests of tea jostled barrels of pork; Persian shawls hohnobbed with the products of Irish _ looms, while erected in one corner was a huge ' Chinese J 035, or idol, vis-d—m's to an oil- 'ntin } monarch of the forest leapin on his prey, he ‘ struck Wrake such a telling b ow, fair between 1 the eyes, that he dropped backward as if smit- ' ten by a bolt from heaven, and lay'insensible on , the floor, while the young life-saver, grasping a j revolver from his belt as he lay there, sprung to ; the corner of the hall, and, placing the girl he- ? hind him, leveled his weapon and cried in his representing Danae in the Shower of Go d. 0 - 1 clear. ringing young tones: ental luxury and profusion, waste and careless display—the cave was a very mine of wealth! At the sound made by the entering footsteps, the captain turned, and seeing Luke standing in the center of the hall, yet bound, he asked in a stern, cruel tone, that well fitted his forbidding aspect: ‘ What have you there, Ransom?” Obsequiously dofllng his sou’wester, the man addressed, who was none other than Luke’s cap-- tor, replied in whining tones: “A night— rowler, most noble Captain Wrake, and none 0t er than our old friend-Luke, the Life-Saver 1” As if the ocean, whose presence above was de- “ Move but a hand. any one of you, and you die like dogs, as you are l” . CHAPTER V. rm: TRAIL or THE BLOODHOUND. l FOR a moment the wreckers gazed at each I other open-mouthed with wonder at the audacity of this mere boy—who dared thus brave them in their own den. They realized that it was as much as their lives were worth to stir a finger, for there was . no mistaking the accents of the lad’s voice, and they "remained quiet, glaring in impotent fury at the deadly barrel which confronted them; . and so the tableau remained for several minutes, noted by the streams of water which trickled . and a,thrilling picture it presented. The cap- down through the numerous seams and [fissures ; tain lying insensiblc in the middle of thecavern, in the rock overhead, had burst through the l stretched out on the rock: floor; the wreckers ' ‘ and he realized that the wreckers had turn whole band, with theesception of the dandy in crouching in var’ed attitudes in difi'erent por- ~,," .5 .." ‘ _( ' ., -.. "\"g. vs“ iions of the cavern; the different lights reflected from the various articles of precious metal that were scattered about—all added to the pic: turesqueness of the scene, while the little child, with horror in her eyes, clung closer to the boy, half—sheltering herself behind his upright form, which, steady as the rock beneath his feet, never trembled an atom. But, suddenly there was an interruption. Bounding into the rock-hewn caVern, with long leaps, such as the spring of a panther, came Winnemuka, his hair streaming behind him, his eyes flashing fire, a long knife in his hand, the blade of which, dripping with blood, proved that he had passed the sentinel at the entrance at the cost of the latter’s life, and his whole appearance showing that long years of civilization had not beeniab e t) quench the savage fires in his breast which he had inherited from his ancestors, and, his quick glance catching Luke and his charge, in an instant he was beside them, had caught up the little one, who sprung to his arms with a cry of joy, and, dashing through the crowd of ban- dits, whom be scattered right and left—they cowering and shrinking from the red blade in his hand—he plunged beneath a magnificent piece of tapestry which covered the rocky wall opposite the place where he had entered, and dis- closed a narrow passage, from which issued no ray of light; and into this, closely followed by Luke, be rushed without hesitating an instant, while the tapestry, falling back into its place, left them in total darkness. So sudden had been the entrance of the Indian so rapid had been his exit that the wreckers ha not time to collect their thoughts, and before they could act, the trio had disa peared, leaving the baffled crew behind them—~a l but one. The elfeminate youth who had been in consultation with the captain and who had, during all of these occurrences, remained seated, survey ing the scene with a sneering smile, as if mockin at the cowardly crew who were thus held at ay by a boy, rose auickly and quietly as Luke passed by him,an the fugitives, followin so closely after the lad that he passed under t e tapestry before it had fallen into its place, and like a shadow followed. Steadin pursuing his way, Winnemuka, who seemed perfectly familiar with the intricacies of the passage, held out a guiding hand, which .Luke took, and turned suddenly to the right, and hardly had they entered the lateral passe ge, when there was a crash ands. roar, heightcned a thousand-fold by the confined limits within which the explosion took place, and a do» n I ‘ l lets pattered against the rock, at the one of the passage they had just left; the wreckers had , fired a volley after them and they had branched off just in time to save their lives. \ As the name of the rifle-shots died away, the quick ear of Luke caught a slight name behind him; the sound of some person breathing, and, knowing that they were followed, without an instant’s hesitation he threw himself on the ground as noiselesst as the autumn leaf touched by the frost falls to the sward below: and at the same time a light foot encountered his body, so closely was he followed, and the pursner fell headlong to the rocks, while almost before he had measured his length, Luke had encircled his neck with his sinewy grasp and was gradual- ly but surely choking the breath and life from his bony. 4 But, as they struggled and rolled in this death embrace, the little form of his antagonist dis— played a strength that was surprising to Lukr in one so slender; the wrecker managed to free himself from Luke’s grasp, slipping from be tween his fingers like an es], and, with a mock- ing laugh fled, while the lad, fearing that he might bring the band in his pursuit, hurriedly rose to his feet and struck along the path as rapidly as the intense darkness and the rough- ness of the path would admit, his «hands out- stretched for fear of encountering some obstacle against which he might dash himself and cause him serious injury; so, with ear on the alert for any pursuing footstep, with eyes staring into the black space before him, he hurried along until his fingers came in contact with the damp Wall, and he felt to the right and left for the continuation of the passage; but, grope as he would, he could find no outlet. Falling on hands and knees, thinking that there might be some passage cut through the rock close to the path, he fe t carefully in ever direction, but no means of continuing his flig tcould be dis- cover. Suddenly he started back in horror, for as he crawled on, his outstretched hand encountered no support and he well-nigh plunged into a it which yawned directly before him from s depths of which came a hollow sound as a stone loosened by him fell cluttering against the sides of the shaft, finally striking against the waters far below with a subdued splash, which showed to what an immense depth it had fallen. Luke drew back and crouched close to the rocks, for the blackness was now filled with hor- ror, and his distorted imagination caused him to picture pitfalls on every side, and that the; slightest movement would dash him to eternity. " Then there came a deep haying to his ears, echoing along through the entrails of the earth with noiseless feet sped after . _w Wyn-1 1 , “ My DEAREST Farm:- = arms, for I am alone!” Luke, the Life-Saver. e 5 ,_:_—_ payment for the risk they had run, in the small iron safe beneath the secretary, the compart- ments of which were stuffed with bank-notes. Then grasping the papers which littered the desk, and which might prove of some value, the two villains departed, escaping from the house loose upon his trail an enormous bloodhound, which he had noticed chained in one corner of the vaulted chamber, and then indeed he gave nimseit up for lost, for in the struggle which had taken place his piece] had dropped from the bosom of his shirt and he was entirely unarmed; . ' but there was no escape—on one side the yawn- as stealthily as they had come, closing the base- ing chasm, on the other, and rapidly approach— . ment window, by which they had entered, and ing the ferooious brute ravening for his blood; ; sliding the bolt with a knife-blade, so that it so dropping onone kneelie hastily tore his jacket 3 was impossible for any one to detect how they from his shoulders and wrapping it around his 1 had succeeded in penetrating into the house. . left arm assumed the defensive. [ The sun rose and peered in through the Win— Nearer and nearer echoed the deep haying of [ dow, and glinted in the pool of blood thatllay the brute, until finally the atte ’ng of his claws ; clotted on the floor, and the noises of the night sounded clo ‘e in front of t e lay, and the green- 1' gave way to those of the day, when the servant, ish glare of his eyes could be seen like two emer— , entering the room for the purpose of airing it, alds, burning throu h the thick darkness, and 1 gaVe one scream of horror, and then, terror- with a fierce grow he rung upon Luke, his stricken, ran screaming into the street, awaken- gnashing fangs burying t emselves deep in his 3 ing a policeman from his morning nap, and arm, through the rotecting jacket, while the 1 rousing the neighborhood with her cries, while heavy shock from is leapinglbody threw the y‘ the sky soon became overcast, and a dense snow— boy back,until he lay with '3 head hanging : storm came up the winddriving thewhiteflakes over tee pit behind him. 5 before it in peiting drifts, and wailing over the And then began a life-and—death struggle for { housetops. the brave lad, his cou e completely restored The usual inquest followed, and the usual ver- in resence of this new anger which confront- 5 dict was rendered: “ Killed hy some person or ed im, and graspin the bound by the throat he g persons unknown ;" and the funeral took place; endeavored to cho e him to death, his hand I the house was closed; the wonder over the mys- buried to the wrist in the massive neck of the r tery of the awful deed soon gave placeto some ‘ brute. I new sensation, and Mr. Faulconer was forgot- , And so they fought, the huge fangs of the 3 ton. bloodthirsty creature at the protecting ] tearin 'acket, which alone saved tie lad’s arm from ij Promptly at five o’clock on the same morning, ing crunched and gnawed to shreds while the 1 the steamship Circassian cast loose from her - boy’s nervous fingers clutched closer and closer ! moorings, and at half-s , moved down the around the windpipe of the dog, who even now i bay, bound for LiVerpoo , with a full cabin and began to show signs of weakness, and to struggle ; a weighty cargo. less violently than before to escape from this 1 Standing under the lee of the funnel, where » chokin grasp. i she was sheltered from the biting breeze which »- Butt etremendonsweight of the bloodhound, swept down trlpon the steamer from the south- ‘ and his fearful strength,began to tell on.the boy west, was a , slender girl elegantly clad, and '- also, who was weak from exposure, cold and i warmly wrappedincostlysealskins. Herbright ‘ hunger, as well as from his late battle with the : young face of Witching beaut , was rosy with \ waves and he realized thatif his life was to be i the flush of health her color ing heightened saved he must put forth every exertion in one ; by the kiss of the frost and as she stood there supreme effort; so, stretching out his other ; she was the personification of girlish loveliness; hand he added its power to the one already ’ for she was not more than fifteen. clutchin the throat of his brute antagonist, , Waiting for the dawn to break, that she and put orth all of his strength tostrangle him, } might gaze once more on the city where she had and with success, for the hound gave one con- i pa so many happy hours, and where her vulsive struggle and then fell across Luke’s I oneiy father was even now, perhaps, thinking body, crushing his breath from his chest and i of, and prayin for her, she could not repressa lying dead; but as he died hsgave a terrific leap, , tear that well and the shock flashed Luke 11 further over the ‘ and stole slowly down her 0 eek. ‘brink of the c m; be struggled in vain to re- i “ Poor father 1” she murmured; “how desolate cover his equilibrium; he was overbalanced, : he must feel; but sister will soon behome now, and, sliding over the brink, he fell, still clutch- f0 cliieer him, ind will 6:311 thg vizid whicllién eav ng may ave cau ; an i aunt a s ing the dead body, into the depths below. health is soon restored she will not be 10 CHAPTER VI. abroad, and then what a happy home we ran wane! or THE Ciacassms. I have! . IN a magnificent house on Fifth avenue, near { “How I long to see my new brother-in-lawi Madison square, on a dark night in March, 187—, Ah, the first tinge of light, and n0w for a last a dim light was visible in a small room adjoin- , look at dear New York, and a good, long one. ing the parlor, and here was seated in front of 5 GOOd'b . Manhattan, dear. and dearest DC a writing-desk an elderly gentleman whose brow : farewe i” and kissin the pretty tips of her 5:: was furrowed with the lines gravsn by care and gore, the young gir descended to the cabin, _aorrow, while his whole appearance was that of , and disro ing, was soon fast asleep, While the «aman whohad hisseventieth ear, though , proieller throbbed and the huge frame of the the frost of but fifty-five winters silvered I mig ty ship trembled beneath its pulsations as his hair. i she leaped onward through the foaming waters, He was alone in the house, save for the ser- I her prow pointed due east. Events, asleep in the upper rooms, and was en- The sun rose, and to the ordi observer gaged in examinin some documents that were i, would have presalg‘ed 8- Olear (15!, bu thfire was spread on the desk fore him, one of which, a . a cold, frosty loo about the disk that, to the ether bearing a foreign postmark, was thus ; 8! enced sailors, ave warning of unpleas— written: ‘ an. weather; and captain walki the “Omen, China, October 15, 187... bridge, declined to set any sail. althOiygfii the ‘ . breeze blew steadily and strongly from a fa- TO day I was Md-mambd t0 the 1191,1931“ 1 voring direction directl across her beam' yet I met on the steamerfwhile crossing to Live 1 1 he decided that ‘u won} on] be a matter‘ f and who was returning tothis rttotakecommand ‘ t h 1 d . 0 a of a ship that had been offer him, and of whom I i "V oum’ n any me, an t. at the “‘15 “mum wrote to you, just afttr touching at Gibraltar. hum be mfled Elmo“ as 500” 35 99"- “Following the hysician’s advice rang-ding ., i While the steamer was steadily pursuing her _ hng sea voyage,l etermined to‘round the Gapeof f we , a commotion was heard in the s e, Good Hope) as my nautictl husband puts it. and an at the sound of the confusion, the captain, .%?l;:;:g £3 fignggigngsawrggghogm ‘ leanin over the railinfiglooked down upon the her. for she isachangedbe g, and was theyidol of dwk‘ “ “upposmg t t it w“ some 0‘ “1° “,8 entire shipts com y_ passen ers skylarking, turned and re- “ We sail in Novem rfor New York. and [hope am his mm up and down the brid . his to sea Voui- dear faceagain by March or April next telescope under his arm, anxiousl wa hing —- ssinly sooner. the mam of clouds which was ban ng high 11 'In the mean time. I pray to God t0 keep you in the southern sky, the black masses tippe , and Irene, and with much loveto her and to your with gm: creamy files of cloud, which were sage refittilil'sors (1)11;1 a gllffw. m n w aw ye,a unt, emt - Want, with unshorn foacks and struggling sprung on deck, armed with a ban - spike, with which he felled the second officer, who endeavored to stop him, and leaggig up so the ‘ dear self, am \ “ Yona sto'rsn Dwain-la." “ Ah!” sighed the old man, “married, and inst my wishes, yet she says not one word 0 the cruel letter I wrote her. Please Heaven she never received it, for it would be better so. ;I will gladly forgive the child—for child she is, l the step. which led to the bridge and welcome her and her husband with open ‘ “pm ground the waist, pinning his armato I his side, and with a maniacal yell, sprung over- board with his victim, and disappeared beneath the green waters that were rushing past the shi ’s side! ‘ e discipline on the steamer was perfect and as the two struck the water, the fearful cry run over the decks—“Man overboard l” and wi a leap, the chief engineer who was just coming on deck, reached the electric in- dicator, and turnin the handleto “Bto her!” the bell rung out e warning below, w ile, as the huge screwceased its beats, the bell sounded a second. signal “Back her!” and the water, churnedmto a milky foam,rushedpastthe “ It is new four o’clock, and the Circassian, on which Irene and her aunt crom, mile at five. God grant them a safe and pros— Ab!" and as a keen blade sunk to the hilt between his shoul- ders, the old man fell forward on his desk, the blood from the wound walling out, trickling down and staining the papers before him. “A leetle hasty, J im,” remarked one of two menwho had stolen in nonparceived the sound of their footste deaden by the heavy car- t; “ but it’s one, an’so let it Now for he swa ,"and the two masked lars ran- sacked e drawers of the desk, find ng ample 0s in her for et-me-not-hued eyes , ; Faulconer in its icy embrace and swept her of! steep sides of the vessel, boiling and bubbling like a witch’s caldron. While the engineer was busy with these maneuvers, a trained crew had sprung into two of the boats that had been lowered, and with the first and third officers had pulled hurriedly awa in the direction of the spot where the- man c and his prey had disappeared. But their search was 0 no avail, for except a dark blood-stain which dyed the dancing waters, showin that the iron screw must have struck one orioth of them, no trace could be found, and they turned to row toward the steamer, which lay a half-mile away. At that moment the snow-squall, which had been threatenin for some time, swooped down upon them with its full force, and in an instant the boats Were overturned, being broadside to the ale, and officers and sailors were strugglin in t ewater, while so dense was the storm 0 drivin flakes that they were completely hidden from t e view of those on the steamer, and in a few moments had sunk, to rise no more. Meantime all on board the Circassian had rushed on deck (for the stopping of the machine means, in almost every case at sea, some see - dent) and were gathered aft near the wheel- house, watching neer, now in command (as the second officer had been carried below with his skull crushed) gave orders to go ahead slowly, as he saw the squall coming and knew that they must have steerage— wa on the steamer to prevent her drifting; but as he squall struck them it was found necessary to go ahead, full speed, and as the vessel, with- out an officer on board capable of navigating her, forged ahead, the engineer felt his res n- girbili‘ty and determined to put back to ew or . But as he gave his orders, and the steamer in obedience to her helm swung slowly around in the blinding snow, a harsh, ting sound was heard that set the teeth of l on edge, and be— fore the propeller could be stopped she was hard and fast in the sand, and the tide running in, aided by the waves which rapidly rose, soon: fixed the doomed steamer firmly on the bank, while the missenmast, loosened b the shock, went by the board, killin three of he sailors as it fell, and the waters, hed into fury, with extraordinary rapidity n to pour over the stern, until a larger wave han those precedim, dashing high over the bulwarks,'caught Irene into the swirling sea. CHAPTER Vll. snarcnnn site)! run wam. As Luke fell down throu h the sitting: depths his consciousness half him, . he ve himself u for lost, ting to be to pieces ei her against 6 rocky sides of the pit or against the cruel rocks at the bot- tom ' but he had short time for dread—for the shock soon cameuthe shock of plunging into water of icy coldness, which restored is senses in an instant and mamoment he was on his feet, standing p in a running stream and listening the sound of fallin water some dis- .taneeto the left and behind h ; he had fallen adistanee of twen feet, though it seemed to- ninthat he was fal in thousands. The mystery of the alling stone was explain- ed when he took the body of the dead brute, which still clung with its fangs to his jacket— the garment being still tightly wrapped about his arm—and flung it in the direction of the! I sound of falling waters, where it went plunging down apparen y to a tremendous depth. "” The pit into which he had fallen seeming! had two bottoms, one far below, into who - some subterranean stream was flowing, and the one on which he stood, the water which covered it issuing from the rock near where he was standing, and having another outlet, for the current was swift and strong and flowed away I in adiiferent direction from the other chasm. To this stream he_was about to intrnst himself, when, for the third time, he saw approachin up the stream in which he was standing the mysterious light which had twice before ap— peared to him, and rapidly aglidingl up the stream came the Indian in den, er light wherry shooting up against the current beneath the vigorous strokes of the oars. In a moment more she was alo do him and by the dim yet penetrating ight shed. :nroun ,Qhewas able to examine his surroundv The pit into which be had fallen was some twenty feet in mference, and he stood in a rushing river of half that breadth, while, wad- ing off to the right, he found a natural parapet of rock which kept the water within bounds, it ust rising to the edge, while on the other side of e stony wall, which was two or three feet in thickness, was the chasm into which he had hurled the bound. Turning, he saw that the Indian gier beckoning him to entar the wherry, which he quickly did, while, as soon as he was sea the boat was turned in the direction whence it hat come. The rocky passage narrowed and low- ered till there was just room to use the cars and. av01d the roof by bending, and thissubterraneae y they pursued for some time—hours“ the boats, while the chief engl~ sailor, had taken clothes, and left him to sleep off his fatigue. 6 Luke. the Life-Saver. seemed to Luke, who was chattering with the cold and faint with hunger, excitement and ex- sure. But there was nothing to be done, Luke hay-i ing come to the conclusion that the girl was a deaf-mute, she not haying made the slightest sign when he had addressed her; so the boat sped on until at length it stopped. In front Luke could see that the waters were banked up so as to almost stop the passageway, and it was certain that the boat could not pass without be- ing submerged until the water run over the n— w in,‘ :“ but as the girl sat quietly indifferent the b y u cided to await the course of events, patizntly. A parcutly seeing how tired he was, the girl nmt med him to lie down in the bottom of the b. at v'“ ile she seated herself in the bow. Noth- ir- .; lib, Luke complied, and in an instant d. 3 pc i elf into a profound slumber, so utterly is '23.: : out and used-up was he. ii )VIJD; he slept he never knew; but when “he. uroxsed himself he found himself lying in a rougi bunk, warml covered up, his clothes ' having b ecu remover , while the regular motion, the svaymg to and fro, the “swish” of the water as it rushed past the side of the bunk, were signs sufficient to show that lie was on . board 0 some vessel, he knew not what, bound 3 he knew not whither; nor did he care, so long ' as he was not in the power of the murderous wreckers. Soon the door of the little cabin was opened, and a rough, but kindly-looking sailor poked'his i head in and called out in a cheery voice as he can ht Luke’s eye: “ ey, mate; slept your watch out, hain’t ’ei layelre rested, turn out and take a mouthfu o’ z t is. l And, entering, he placed on a locker a savory- , smelling tin of chowder, which caused Luke to leap from his bunk and to commence gulping it down in huge spoonfuls, while an occasional sip from a stiff glass of grog washed it down to perfection, the sailor, in the mean time, disap- pearing and returning with the boy's clothes, which had been nicely dried by the gulleyvfirc. Luke was soon dressed and on deck, when he found that he was on board of a large coaster, laden with coals and close-hauled, bound for Sag Harbor, being at the time he came from b low 'ust off Fort Pond, on the northern shore of n Island and close inshore. alking up to the one who Seemed to be in command, be thanked him and asked him h0w he came on board, when it was explained to him that the Eliza Lee had anchored oli’ the Connec- ticut shore. the mght beingr stormy, and had laid all ni ht riding out the gale. As ay broke and the gale subsided, they were preparin to heave anchor and set sad, when i one of t 9 men had descriedabody lying on shore, and thinking it might bea shipwrecked he boat, found Luke lvmg there, and brought him aboard, removed his ‘ Luke thanked him again, wondering how they had passed out throng the narrow passe 9 left by the waters, acknOWIedged that he he. been shipwrecked, and was turning away to say a word to the man Who had rescued him,when he wind jumped to the east, “ boxing the compass,” . asit is called, and without an instant’s warning ! the heavy boom swung over, striking the cap- tain, who had leaped on the gunwale to examine something, holdin loosely to the sheet, across 1 the back and knee ing him into the water. I In a moment Luke was by his side and sup- porting him in the water, for the sailor was l were unconscious of their suifering from cold almost insensihh from the force of the blow, . and wet as they struggled with the elements, he began to swim in that ,' could restrain himsel and, the land being near, direction, realizin that it would be some time 1 before the coaster 3 crew would be able to bring her about or lower the boat, and not swinging in davits. It was an easy swim for the lad, even with the , to fire it over the steamer, he cried, in loud, weight he carried, and in a few moments the unconscious sailor was laid on the shelving beach. and Luke was bathing his face and rub- bing his back with such good results that in a short time the sailor was almost completely re- 1 , the height of madness for any one to venture stored. The boat arriving) soon after, he was placed therein, when Luke ado him farewell having something to attend to on the south side of the island at Am ansett; but the old salt was loth {.0 par: with h m, and grasping his hand hearti- y, sat : “ Ye saved my life, lad, an’ but for ou Pd ’9) been drownded long ago; I’m not muc given to talkin‘, but if ye ever want a friend come to the harbor an’ ask fur ole Bill Freeman, an’if one manwkin sarve another, that service I’ll do fur you And it was with somethin like tears in his eyes that the brave old f ow shook Luke’s hand and gave the word to his men to “ pull away.” i Luke started off briskly across the country, I ‘ restored by his long sleep I side plunged through another and still another, I and, being completely and the f steadily on until he arrived at his destination just as the stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky and the lamps in the windows of the villagers. It was a sad coming. for he bore a sonowful message for a widowed mother whose ‘ saved and the saver—night had begun to spread i the line was coiled on the beach, which was on deck gbling with excitement, and as the crew were I the ice-cold waters would chill him and freeze his limbs into stiffness and uselessness. 1— only son had gone down with the schooner ! Spray when she had been run down ; yet he told 1 her the tale as tenderly as he could, and prom~~ ised that, a: Hiram Foster had been his mess- mate and best iriend, she should never want so 102) as he, Luke, had a cent to give her. e was the widow’s guest that night, and when he left the kind-hearted old lady kissed her as he would have kissed his mother, and promised that he would soon return. As he walked along the sands he passed by a life-saving station and stopped to say a word ' to the men, lookin at the apparatus and admir- ing the brave fe ows who thus risked their i lives to save those of others, then pursued his journey; but, as he arrived at Bridgehampton, he found all hustle and confusion at the station, and in answer to his question came the startling reply as the snow and sleet lashed and stung him, a storm having sprung up in a moment: “A large steamer ashore, just off here,” point- ing to the southeast. In an instant Luke was at the water’s edge, : gazig‘g out to sea with straining eyes, and as he i look he saw floating on the water what he ' thought was a human form, and casting off his shoes and a jacket given him on the co water, he plunged into the tumbling breakers amid the cheers of the assembled crowd, and toiling and struggling reached the girl—for such it was-— and amid the mad buffeting of the waters and ‘ lashing of the spray, wounded and bleeding I from a. blow from some floating wreckage, he drew her safely to shore, where a dozen willing ‘ hands bore them far beyond the reach of the waves as he fell exhausted on the sand by the side of Irene Faulconer. CHAPTER VIII. THE LIFE AND DEATH can. WHEN, finally, the two were restored—the its raven pinions overland and sea, while, With the darkness,came yet fierCer gusts of wind that shook the life-saving station into which they had been carried from roof to foundation. The driving sleet, freezing as it fell, covered field and road with a coat of glassy ice, and no living , thing could make ready headway against the' gale that drove the sea high up on the beach. Luke, now warmly dressed in clothes kept on hand at the station for persons rescued from the ocean and protected from the driving storm by a complete suit of oilskins, started for the beach, where could be heard the roar of the mortar, as the crew tried, time and again, to throw a life- line across the vessel; but without avail, for as revious to firingr the shot, the drifting sand quic ly covered it, and the rope, being buried deep, retarded the free flight of the shot and caused it to drop into the see. before it had traversed half the dis- tance.* And durin all this time the sea was rolling higher and h gher, and the mad breakers, tum- bling their tons of w ter with tremendous thuds Onto the beach, me c it' imposssible to launch the life-boat while the shrieks and cries that swept ovor the boiling surges from the wrecked steamer rung in the ears of the life-savers and drove them almost insane as they realized how powerless they were to aid their suffering f9110w- creatures who were in such sore distress and ril. p8And as the boy stood there, partly sheltered from the cutting wind by a sand-dune, and watched the vain efforts of the brave men who longer, and tearing garments, leaped to e -knit figure trem- no ofl his oilskins and outer the mortar, his sinewy, w drawing in th e shot, after another vain endeavor piercing tones: “ Give me the line: I will carry it to yonder vessel, or perish in the attempt!” For a moment tinI gazed at him in astonish— ment, scarcely believ up; their ears, for it seemed into the raging and whirling waters, while it was more than probable that the swimmer would not be able to penetrate the first line of breakers,bnt would be dashed up onto the beach despite every effort to swim out to sea, while But as the end of the line to which was fas- tened the chain that was attached to the shot ‘ hauled in by the men, the young came dragging up through the wet sand, being life-saver, de- taching‘it. tied a bew-linc, and s pping it under his shoulders, around his body, secured it be~ neath his arml. And then, without another ' word, the daring Luke plunged. headlong into the huge breaker that was ust beginning to curl before breaking, and r sing on the other 00d and drink furnished him, walked — *Since the' time during which these evonts oc- curred all this has been rectified. and an invoutlon has been perfmted whereby the life-line is coiled on I pegs set in a box, and the rope, slio in“ freely, re- tards in not the slightest degree 6 flight. of the shot. Cf. 1‘ 'the pul e , until he got beyond the shallow waters. and Swain steadily on over the swelling seas, through whitecaps, fighting against wind and tide with set teeth and tense muscles, and putting forth superhuman efforts to overcome the forces which were dragging him back, but without avail, and he was finally dashed high on the beach far from the point where he had plunged into the sea, for the southwest wind had caused a current which set strongly to the cast end which had drifted him far in that directitn and i then tossed him on shore. A short rest, c0vered with the blankets tto life~crew had brought from the station, std then, profiting by his experience, he wall.» ll 1:; the beach to the westward, that the cunt-1.1, might not drift him past the steamer, and ti. on he for'the second time that night dove hem-Lu or; into the chilling waves, and, diving and Sr. in- ming, get far out from the shore, propelled l] the vigorous strokes of his sinewy arms. At times he disappeared altogether, and it seemed asif he must perish, but quickly 1 n. _ to the surface he struck out with renv = no strength as he saw that he was graduall; . . preaching the steamer, whose location m 19 marked by the blue lights which were it, t steadily burning at her bow, until, reacl in» lee of the vessel, in answer to his hail a In; - . ‘ lowered, and swinging to thisz he was qr.» . ., lifted on board amid the ringing yell (.l‘ .15'4 a surprise from all present—a cry that was i .- , on shore, and signaled to them that the ir‘ succeeded in carrying out his most dos: ‘ -» undertaking in the face of obstacles which in did have intimidated one less brave. Three stout jerks were then given on the 31‘“ 'i which he had brought with him, and throwing; t. heavy pea-jacket about his shoulders he awaited the answarin signal, which soon came in the shape ofa wgizzing rocket that broke into a shower of sparks far overhead, and in obedience to this some of the crew began to haul in the line, and after a few minutes of steady pulling brought on board a huge block or pulley, through which was rove a stout cable. To this was fastened a smaller line. Attached to the block was a square piece of tin on which were painted directions in English French and German how to proceed when the blook should be drawn on board ; so, in accordance with these instructions, a half-dozen of the crew, dragging the heavy cable after them, ascended to the fore-to and there firmly lashed and fastened when an answering rocket was sent up from the ship, and Luke, pulling on the smaller line hand over hand, soon brought the life-car close to where he was standing, it trav- elin on the cable which was iautened by a win lass on shore. Then he superintended the embarkation of the first load, the women and children by his orders -—for every one deferred to him—being sent ashore beforea man was allowed to enter the car; and not one of the poor creatures passed him without taking his hand and kissing it,wuile more than one tear coursed freely down their cheeks, furrowing its way through the salt brine incrusted on their faces, as they burst into expressions of gratitude to their “noble pre- server,” as they called him, and the little children were held up to lisp their childish thanks. The steamer was fast breaking up, and the waves hurrying in from the ocean made a clean breach over her stern, and although the car traveled rapidlyto and fro, the danger threaten- ed that the vessel would go to ieces before all could be cayed, so violentl d d she pound on the sands, as the incom de lifted her higher and yet higher on t I, where she had grounded. 5;: , i The wind increased in its fury, the driving sleet and spray covered everything with a thick coating of co: the mountain sea ashed hi her and higher, at times completely covering uke as. lashed to the rigging, he calmly directed the movements of the passengers and crew. But as a louder crash than any that had pre— ceded it called the attention of those remaining on board to the stern of the steamer, it was seen that the wheel-house, situath well aft, had been carried away, and the seas, with nothing to obstruct their passage, were rolling ovor the taifrail, and in a few moments more had begun to sweep the deck from stem to stern. Then the sailors, who until this time had been quietly assisting at the work of-aiding the - sengers to climb the shrouds and reach the ore- top, where they were placed in the lifecar six at a time, lost their heads, and with oaths and cries vowed that their lives were as dear as those of the paan erg, and that,“ some of them had wives an children at home, so the \Zflmen and children on board must give way to t em. “‘First come, first served, my good lads,’ that’s my motto,” howled one brawny giant, whose hairy breast, broad shoulders and brawny arms betokened the on of unusual strength “ an’ l’m goin inter the car the nex’ trip. he follows me?" , And he sprung up the shrouds. followed by a half-dozen of the more evil of the crew, while the better spirits, afraid to interfere. shrunk from his path with cries of “Shamel”taking ‘i l l l l ______. W‘s-“d ".1. 7 Luke, the Life-Saver. particular care, however, that he should not dis- cover wno it‘was that spoke the word, for he Was the terror of the steamer, and ruled the fort-castle With a hand of iron. Halriksd u very (lemon incarnate as, with a short 1:011 bar in his hand, he sprung up the rat- lines, his eyes bloodshot, his coarse hair and be ird flying in the breeze and incrusted with the suit which matted tue locks together, while Luke, high above him,looke:l around him for some means of defense, for he had sworn that no man should leave the vessel until the women and , «children were all safe on shore. The storm-swept sky had cleared and the moon shone out brightly, lvcing obscured only at iii- tervals by the fast-flying clouds which rushed and rolled across her bright disk, and the wild scene was plainly visible in all its tumultuous confusion. Search as he would, the b0 could find nothing 'w1th which to protect him if, so, bracing his body, he prepared for the coming encouni er, de- termined to defend the passage to the car, even with his life; but, as he leaned back, a swinging rope l‘l'Slled him sharply across the face, and seizing it, he tied with nimble fingers, rendered expert by long training, a running Imwhne in t is hempen corp, and as the head and shoulders of (higiant rose before him be cast thenoosc donut the muscular neck, and, placing both feet 'lll the shoulders of the mutineer and swmging by his hands, gave a shove with all of his strength, and the sailor, who had raised the iron mr with both hands, swung off over the boiling s 1a., where he hung suspended at the end of the yard-arm, gurgling and gasping, while the sen -ircling cord quickly choked him into insensi- (lllllt . “ yy the high heavens!” cried the boy, “ take warning by your leader’s fate, or the same Wlli be .y-iursl” And as the frightened mob slunk back to llln decks, he continued the embarkation of the in- sengers—the last of whom was soon set Bibm u. Then he allowed the crew to take their um . d and in a few moments more was alone, the lent , load having completely filled the car. Again he drew back the car, and, entering it, cl >sed the air-tight door and shot the bolt, Wait in to be drawn to the beach, when the foremost su denly snapped and fell by the board, and,the cable parting, Luke was hurled into the leaping waters below, hermetically sealed in the life-car, which bade fair to hedomo his cofiinl CHAPTER IX. A FMMING snownn. FOR hours the girl lay there, unconscious, until the fresher air of the morning, streaming through the broken sash, aroused her; and, without rising, she endeavored to collect her thoughts, feeling weak and faint after the long swoon through which she had passed. As she raised her hands to press her throbbing tem- ples, she sprung to her feet with a cry of hor- ror, for one of them was red, and like a flash the memo of the last night’s tragedy returned to her, as s e recalled the figure that had con- fronted her when she had entered the lantern, while, at the same moment, her 36 caught sight of the cold body, lying so a ' and mo- tionless almost at her feet, while the whim face, marked with a crimson streak which had crept down from the hole in his forehead, made the recollection of the drama, in which she had taken so prominent a part, still more vivid. And then came to her a. ti toning of the heart, for she thought of her other and of his two fellow-keepers, and, with a feeling of dread at what she might discover, she descended the winding ate , and, arrived at the bottom start- ‘ed back wit a cry of horror which would have *urdled the blood of any bearer; but alas! there was no living person near. Lying almost at her feet was the body of r father Visible in the light that came thro h the half-oxrned door, from which the bolts had been torn y the wrecker: when the had forced their entrance, and she threw horse f down he- side the body with wringing hands, low moons and inarticulate cries, while she endeavored to resuscitate him, but all in vain; the blow that had been struck with such malignant urpose " had crashed through scalp and bone, an beaten the life out of the brain beneath, and as the girl ' this, the full force of the realintion of her terrible position came u n her with fearful ctness, for she was a one, for from he] , d did not dare go in search of aid, as the lig t must be attended to. and she could not return before the shades of night Would cause the home- faring mariners to scan the horizon for the beacon which would warn them to steer clear of the reefs and shoals whiCh ltrewed the waters in the vicinity of Bell-Point Light. For she realized that she was alone, believi that if the two keepers were alive, they won] have reappeared before this, unless, indeed, they were he as prisoners, so that they would not interfere with the designs of the wrecker: of whom she had often heard her father speak, but none of whom she had ever seen. But before she could care for the dead, duty must be. attended to, and, being thoroughly fit-- miliar with the care of the lamps, she set about g them, fearing no interruption from . the wreckers; they were birds of evil-omen, and l ful pleasure, a tight, choking feeling at the only left their dens and caves when the darkness should hide their evil deeds, and shunned the orb of day ; so she went to the closet where were kept the supplies, and which was built? into the base of the tower, and opened the door, only to start back with a second scream of horror, and. l shut out the awful sight with apron raised and pressed to her eyes, for she shuddered at the contact of her blood-stained hand,which had become crimsoned as she la y unconscious over- hezid, having fallen into the ruby pool which stained the stone floor of the lanlern. But, nerving herself, she reéntered the closet in searchvof; another sash, and fresh wicks for the lamps, turning her eyes from the ghastly sight which had presented itself as she had first open'd the door; for, lying as they had fallen, one body across the other, were two bodies stark and stiff in death~the bodies of Tom Wilson, and his fellow-keeper, while the blood- stained gush in the back of the jacket of one, the knife hnft—the blade being buried dee be- tween the shoulders—planted in the b0( y of the other, showed that they had been stabbed l'romdbehind and foully and treacherously mur— den . With trembling hands the girl collected the wicks, while deep sobs shook her slight frame, and she found the greatest difficulty in getting what she wanted, but finally succeeded, and laid the little package outside, and then re-entered the closet, to perfOrm the hardest task of all, for in order to reach the sashes she had to re- move the bodiel to the vestibule outside. This tanked her slght strength to the utmost, as ten- derly and mverently she dragged all that was left of what had een, twelve hours before, two strong and vigorous men; yet, with indomitable courage she rsevered, until, with straightened limbs and: osed eyes, the three corpses were old but, one beside the other, along the cold stones, which were not half so chilling to the flint-n as they. file-n, with the greenest difficulty, she removed me of the heav sashes from the store-room, uml. panting an struggling, carried it up the interminable steps, often stopping to regain her breath, until finally she reached the lantern, and prepared to replace the shattered sash with the new one. But, first, she must rid her presence of her awful neighbor; 30, opening one of the windows, she caught hold of the collar of the dead wrecker, and began to pull the body toward the open window. When the light-house had been first built, it had been erected some feet from the edge of the bluff, which ran sheer down to the water’s edge; but the beating of the waves had so worn away the stony ground that but a foot or two of level turf in between the edge of the cliff and the base 0 the light-house, so that when she had lifted the body onto the rolling of the iron bal- cony which encircled the lantern, and had given it a slight push, the corpse, falling, struck against the swelling sides of the to ring tower, and, boundi ofl’, plunged into t e waters far below, while arrie Homer, as the girl had been Baptized, turned to her labors with a sigh of re- s . The broken cash was soon removed and the other fastened in its place, being held by numer- oul iron buttons at top, sides and bottom, when the girl, stepping again onto the balcony, walked around the entire circumference of the light, looking in every direction. Not a living thing was in sight, so she again descended, an with- out a single glance at the dead trio, hurried! left the light-house and oped to the house whic stood some hundred yards away, and where were the sleeping and living apartments of those in charge 0 Bell Point ight. Entering, she quickly packed a huge basket with all sorts of provisions, taking which, and throwing a largga white spread over her arm, she returned to t e tower. ' Placing her basket at the foot of the the , she knelt by her dead father and breathe a rayer for him and his dead comrades. Press- ing a kiss on the marble brow, she wept silently for a few moments; then arose, covering the bodies with the white spread, and, taking a heav iron bar which stood in the corner by the cor—used when the wind arose to burn- cane strength to keep the entrance flrml y closed --she placed it in the iron sockets prepared for its reception, well knowing that the massive portal would resist, for hours, any attacks that might be made upon it. Taking her basket and the bundle of wicks, she closed and bolted the door at the foot of the steps and returned to the 1 lantern, tired out with her exertions. She pum the oil, which was stored below, in barrels, nto the lamp, fixed and trimmed the wicks, and then takin a draught of water from an immense tank in t e lantern, filled from the roof by the rain of the preceding ni ht, she threw eroelf on a small lounge that to one side and quickly fell asleep. Hunger at length awakened her, as the sun was just disappearing below the western hori- zon, his last rays ust visible as he sunk into the bosom of the big t. and before she touched a mouthful of the food for which she was craving she lighted the lamps and watched the bright rays stream out over the ocean with a mourn- u i throat, like a clutching hand, as she thought of l the one who had last tended it: and then she l coated herself to watch the flames until morn- li»g—--i'01' the lights must burn from “sun to sun”-earing a few mouthfuls, which. hungry as she was, had to be almost forced down, so i repugnant and distasteful did it seem to her, l Weighed d0wn and crushed by her great sor- row. i The lights burned steadily on, the rays from the lantern shot far out to sea, cheering the heart of many a mariner who caught its glare, and the girl, dropping into a slight doze, was dreaming one of those terrible dreams which are so vivid in their horror—a dream in which the door, opening into the lantern from the head of the winding steps was opened, and a procession of three ghostly cor es stalked in, blood-stained, and, with their g assy eyes star- ing straight before them, one of them carrying a gory knife. The other two, kneeling, he began head from the shoulders of the other, after which he, encircling his own neck with the keen blade, lifted his head from its resting—place, and the three, carrying their opencyed heads on their outstretched alms, walked about the lan- tern, a fountain o blocd Spurting from their ~jugular veins at every step, and were advancing toward her when, with a cry,she awoke, bathed in a cold perSpiration which streamed from every pore, while she shivered and chattered With nervousness. Stepping to one of the windows, she threw it open, and passed out onto the balcony for a. breath of fresh air, when, her senses being caught the sound of low voices, and, looking far down, she saw a number of men stealthin approaching the door at the foot of the tower. Reaching it, they tried to open it but the iron bar held firm, and if it yielded an inch, it would go no further; so, with a curse, one of the band, taking a short iron bar a “jimmy,” from one of his comrades, inser it and endeavored to wrench the door from its hinges. The ureckers had seen-the light and returned to extinguish it if they could force entrance and reach the lan- to m. The door creaked and groaned, and as two easily pushed in and the wreckers would soon figs. fate to which death would be far prefer- a e. from below, and which contained some ten gal- lons of inflammable oil ke t in cose the pump would not work, she carri a point situated just above the door, and light- ing it, ured the flaming liquid down upon the men ow, while she cried: “ God forgiveme; but if I fell into their hands, my fate would be worse than theirs!” As the fiery stream ran down upon them of flame. Maddened by the burnin villains fled, shrieking with anguis , some to plunge into the water: below, others to roll on the turf. in writhing agony, while a dense cloud of smoke ring the smell of burning clothes rose and enveloped the lantern, while through the obscure light the figure of the girl loomed gigantic, like a destroying angel. CHAP i‘ER X. A waitcxnn’s OATH. \ As Luke had released the hand of Winne- muka when he heard the noise of the pursuing footste s, the Indian, believing that the boy was ab 0 to look out for himself, and caring more to escape with the child than for anything else, continued his rapid course through the ob- scurity, pursuing h a way with unswerving accuracy, being guided by that instinct whic seems invariably to direct the red-man wher- ever be my be, and avoiding the passage in which the boy had so nearly found his death, plunged into a. larger corridor Which turned abruptly to the left, and with renewed haste hurried along this smoother path until he saw I far before him neglimmer of light, a mere spark, which seem to glow in the pipe of the sentinel on duty at the place where the passage- led into the open air, for the fresh current blowing into his face bore upon itsvwings a faint odor of tobacco-smoke, so, graspin his knife still more firmly, he nerved himse f for the coming encounter and leaped forward to- ward the wrecks: wagon, who was t:iiliconstciuous of an a roac ng er no t di the IndiaZ’s ‘22.. fall on 1% fociry‘z y treading. But as Winnemuka bounded onward, his foot struck against a cord btly stretched across the th, and he fell on onto what seemed to a steel mattrem, wn Is, as his weight pressed the spring, there descended from above, path he wan . ' to (lecapitate one, and, having finished, cut the - sharpened by her late experiences, her ear ‘ .-.n more “ jimmies” were inserted and the three ' men threw their weight against it, it began to ; ive, although the massive iron bar inside held ; . The girl realized that if the hinges gave ,‘ way the rest would be easy, for with nothing j but a single bar to hold it, the door could be ' gain access to the lantern, when instant death -' would be her portion, if she were not reserved -' Hurrying into the lantern, and taking a can ; in which the oil had formerly been carried it to the railing to I each one was almost instantly bathed in a flood .-_ fluid the '.' ‘flp. $9., » a; I 8 a hollow cover which pinioned him down so that he in y immovable, while the hollow clang of a huge gong echoed through the passage, seeming to sound as if placed in the wrecker’s «ave, and the sentinel, warned by the noise, jv'urried to the trap—~for such it was, this pre- caution having been taken to prevent surprise, us any one unfamiliar with the secret would invariably strike one of the half-dozen cords with his foot and set the mechanism in motion. The Indian was powerless, and as others of the wrecker band came hurrying to the place where he lay, being warned by the sound of the gong that some interloper had been captured, 0 was dragged out by the feet, the end of the narrow, coffin-like box being lifted, and firmly bound with galling cords, and being unable to offer the slightest resistance. The lid was raised and the little child, unhurt by the fall, lifted from the steel bed by one of the band, when the trap was again set and the prisoner was led back to the cave, the wreckers exulting in their capture, and soon the Indian was standing in the presence of the captain, as haughty as if he were the captor and the wreck— , er his prisoner. The chief had partially recovered from the ' driving blow, that Luke had launched full in his face, and, mad with pain and rage gloated over - his victim, while, an evil smile on is handsome 2-, life by giving up the secret o g pointing to Lillian, r W - I .:. no doubt, be “lo-Aim at" m““ face, his lieutenant, whose clothes were in dis- ' order and dusty from his late struggle, while ; his throat bore the marks of the boy .‘i tain’s chair, his lips ightiy, holding the cigar- ,- ette which rarely left them. i. s choking fingers, leaned idly a ainst the back of the cap- “ Ah, ha, my copper-colored friend,” sneered the wrecker, “again in the toils; and we will take (good care that you do not escape us a secon time—unless, indeed, you Purchase your that child,” who was stru gling to es- cape from the arms of Ransom, w 0 held her, . while she beat his evil face with her puny hands. “ That there is some secret connected with her well know, and a handsome reward will, I’ve van for her return. “ Where di you kidnap her?” The dark face of the Indian worked with pas- sion as he strained at the bonds which cut his flesh at elbows and wrists, while his eyes fairly blazed with the lurid li ht of rage; but his mo— ment he calmed himse and returned: “ The secret of Sunny Hair is not known to Winnemuka; did he know it, tortures could not wrin it from him i” “ , dog, you dare thus brave me! Now by Mephistopheles, my patron saint, think well be- I I, r g the ndian led away 4’. “let the girl go with i to art with her.” 4 fare on —either a true answer to my { film on, or the child shall die as sure as onder i p swin there i” and he desi ated t e cen- ter chaudgfi‘er as he spoke. “ give you six hours to reflect. Fling him into yonder corner and ard him well—yes,” and the child, seeing struggled to follow him, him; 6 will be more loth nd the Indian was tossed into the corner 1' onto a pile of rugs, and the little child nestling - close to him, was soon apparently buried in profound slumber, while the wreckers, with the exception of the two who guarded Winnemuka, song t their couches, and soon the deep breath- : ing from all parts of the cave bore witness to d the fact that the band were also looked in the i 4 i‘ chains of “ tired Nature’s sweet restoreri balmy sleep,” while the single lam that was 10 t burn- ,r infi only seemed to render arkness visible. ut rolling and tossing, asif in uneasy dreams, the Indian nally brought his mouth close to the child’s head and w ispered—so softly that j the sentries standing a. few paces distant heard i nothingwa few words into her , little one, with an understanding _ them both, as if she were cold. . Jaw-ta... ear while the far beyond her years, closed and reo ned her, eyes as a sign that she comprehend what was told her, and, reusing herself, drew one of the rugs over And then her tiny fingers to tug and pull at the knots which held 6 cords bound about his arms and wrists, and soon he felt the close coils relax as fold after fold was un- wrapped, until flnally he was free and the blood coursed once more through the veins, and his circulation bein fully restored, he felt the numbness and s flnees passing away until his strength was fully regained, and cautiously raising his head he looked about him. Scarce a yard away, seated with their backs toward him, were the two guards, who, know- ing how firmly he was bound,did not think it 1 worth their while to watch him closely, while they talked in whispers that were so subdued as not to disturb any of the sleepers scattered about, their guns lyin carelessly across their knees, and their heads 0 ose together. Rising so cautiously that the wind, sw lug over the grassy lain, makes more noise han did he, Winnemugn, on hands and knees, crept toward the two men, as silently as the moc- casin-snake lides through the water and then, crouchin , e leaped igh over their heads, and turn in the air, landed in front of them, ped each one b the throat, dashed them ml: to the floor, be ore they realised what had Luke, the Life-Saver. happened, and crushin them down, with a knee on the chest of sec , choked them into in- sensibility before they could utter a cry or warn their comrades of the prisoner‘s freedom, and although they were strong, powerful men, in his bands they were as infants, and writhed and struggled in vain, until finally the quiv- ered and lay motionless, when the Ind an, his savage blood boilin into fevered heat, asped a rifle, and leaping igh into the air, das ed the central light into a thousand fragments, with a ringing yell, and, the child clinging close to his side, he whirled the heavy weapon about, strik- ing to the :und 3. half~dozen of the wreckers, who rush hither and thither in the darkness, confused by this unexpected turn of events. They dared not fire, fearing to injure their comrades, while the swirling and circling wea- pon, swung about his head, kept a clear space all around the Indian, the but of his weapon at times enCOuntering a head, which it beat into a shapeless mass; but suddenly a weird glare came over the scene, lighting up the cavern with dazzling brightness; the boyish-looking lieutenant had secured a Bengal light, and touching a match to it, threw a bright glare over the scene and the actors, and Winnemuka, plainly visible, seemed doomed. But the sudden transition from pitchy dark- ness to mid-day light dazzled the eyes of the wreckers for an instant, and taking advantage of this momentary pause, the Indian sprung upon the beardless youth, snatching a knife from the silken scarf which encirled the wrecker’s waist, and while he held him firmly encnrcled with one hand, placed the point of the keen blade at his throat and cried to the band, as he backed toward the covered entrance, drag- ging the youth after him: “ Attempt to follow me and I sink the steel in his throat!” This threat glued the band to their tracks, amid howls of rage and curses loud and dee that broke from the mouths of the baffle wreckers; but the captain, raising his hand commanded silence, and from his seat addr Winnemuka: “ Hold, Indian, I would ley with you; on the word of Captain Wr e, you are, for the present, safe, so release the youth l” “He who parle s is playinga losing game,” returned the In ian, who, reared among the whites, spoke perfect English. “ But what would you?” I “ I would exchange the youth for the child.” “ Neither of whic are in your power.” “ But in a moment will be—at least the child will: for if I order in men to fire, they will obey, and if you kill e youth, the child will also die!” For a moment the heart of Winnemuka failed him, as he felt the full force of the wrecker’s remarks, but in an instant more he answered: “ Rather than that the child should fall into your hands, I will sink this knife into her reast, after the blade has sou ht the blood of this youth, your lieutenant an your evil spir- it i” and, pressing, the needle-like point entered the delicate skin of the young wrecker’s thrdat, a hair’s thickness, and the youth winced and ut- tered a cry of pain. As if the blade had entered his own breast, the captain of the band shrunk back in his seat, not daring to rise for fear of some hasty action on the part of the Indian while he groaned aloud as if the pain felt by the youth had struck deep into his own nerves, and stretchin out his hands in appeal to Winuemuka he cri : “ Stay your hand for the sake of the mother who bore you— on would not slay a woman I” “A woman ’ echoed the Indian, almost re- leasing his captive. “Ay, a woman, and my wife I” cried the capta 1), who in his life of crime had preserved one pure spbt in his heart, which was kept sacred for the being he idolized. But the Indian was quick to perceive the ad- vantage he had gained, and quickly gave his answer: “ The life of your wife, Captain Wrake, is no more precious to you than the existence and well-being of this child is to me—and I will hold her as a hostage for our joint safety. You pledged (your word that I was, for the present, safe, an I believe you for I have heard that your word was never broken. I, in return, ledge the word of Winnemuka, that once safe Beyond this den, I will release this—this lady, and she can return unharmed.” “ And I will accept it, for the Shinnecocks have ever kept their oaths ” and turning to his men he said in a stern an commanding tone: “ He is free!” In an instant the guns cluttered to the ound, pistols were uncqcked and returned to t e belt while the captain, reachin out his hand, ull acord thrice, and then, an interv of a few seconds, twice more, and the gong over- head rung out its hollow clan in use sig- naling to the sentry on watc thatt oseabout to 0 out were to be allowed to pass. at as if the strokes had been a signal, the curtain hanging over the entrance was dashed gigs, and t ree figures, scorched and seated as 0 into t: had fallen into a sea of flame, dashed e cavern, and presented such an awful appearance that all started back in horror for‘ their hair was burnt from their heads, their beard from their faces, the latter being seamed. and scarred, and disfigured beyond recognition, while their clothes gave out a sickly, burnin ' smell that proved that some sparks yet linger among their apparel. And maddened as they were with pain and fury, and seeing a stranger in their midst, the three dashed upon Winnemuka, and despite the orders of the captain, hewed and hacked and stabbed him in twenty places before he could defend himself, while in a moment a revolver flashed thrice, and the three wretcbes, welter- in in their gore, rolled on the floor, writhing in he throes of ap roaching death. Cf tain Wrake ad kept his pledge as best he cou . CHAPTER XI. BESCUED. THE victory of the 'girl was complete, and as the bowling wreckers scattered in every direc- tion, she realized that she was, for the time, safe from any further interruption, and reen- tering the lantern, again threw herself on the lounge, after trimming the lamps and seeing that they were burnin steadily, and again dropped off into a doe s eep which lasted until the sun was hi h in he heavens, and, being awakened by t e rays streaming through the corrugated glass quickly extinguished the lam ,and drew the curtains close over all the win ows. The day grew and waned and nothing of in— cident occurred, yet the hours dragged with leaden feet while every moment was filled with the thoughts of the bodies lying below, and she was nearl wild with the emotions that over. whelmed or; for the ground was iron-bound by the frost which had frozen it into rock-er solidity, throu h which her frail strength would be unable to erce a grave. And the ght came, bearing on its a raging tempest, and the snow and the sleet t against the glass in the sashes as if they would shivor it to atoms, yet the li hts burned steadily on carefully watched by t e 1, who slept not for an instant, so ful was he 1:35 vigil of horrors; the awful presence of the d overshadowing her; while the fury of the e, the moaning and beating of the sea the re. and crashing of the storm a the sashes, intenisified and heightened the loneliness of her t on. But there is an end to everythin in this life, and finally the day broke althoug the sky was: still obscured by the driving clouds, and, al— thogglh the gale subsided almost as suddenly u it h sprung man-yet the sea had been lashed into such mad y that it still tumbled and toned like an uneasy and restless spirit, the rollers rushing in and dashing :1 st he roc barriers o posed to them as if ey would bur the cliffs rom their foundations. And after a short and unsatisfactoryesleep, the girl, realizing that something must done toward interring her father and the two keep- ers,stepped out onto the balcony to cool her fev brow, for the atmosphere inside the lantern was hot and stifling from the heat and smoke of the lamps. And as she looked out over the leaping, an waters, her eye caught sight of an o ject who was rolling, and tumbling, and tessing in the broken sea, and she gazed at it long and earnest— ly, endeavoring to distinguish what it might be; but without avail, as it was, half the time, in- gulfed in the stormy waves, and only moment— ary) glimpses of it could be caught. 5.. etermined to solve this mystery, and with I an intuitive feeling that relie would arrive if she pursued her intention to the end, she hur- rie? down the winding stairs to the vestibule-— wh ch seemed more than ever like a vault, with the three bodies laid out there—unbarred the door, which hun loosely, showing how nearly successful the e ort of the wrec ers to effect an entrance had been, ran quickly across the point of land, and scramblin down to the little cove where lay her boat—a fe-craft in minia- ture—cast loose the painter, and taking the oars and settling herself firmly in her seat, shoved off. There Was bold water just outside the little land-locked harbor, and the rollers swept in un- broken, so that she was soon, without ex ri- encing an great diflicul ,some distance rom shore, an pulling :3de y for the object that she had seen, and which, steadil carried on by '” ’ the tide and bya current whic swept around the bluff on which was situated the light-house, was now almost opposite the point where she. had embarked, and rapidly a proached her. She was uickly drench with the water, which, due against the bow of the boat, leaped high in the air, and at times bathed her from head to foot, but the little craftroselike a cork, emptying herself of the water which flooded her, and causing the brave lno fear of being swamped and was soon ongside of the object which she now recognized as a life- car, it being marked with the number of the Bridgehampten life-saving station, to which it on 00. Luang one of her oars from the row-locks. t ,n’q rs. Luke, Life-Saver. 9 she struck the iron case several times, signaling any one who might be inside, while for a few seconds her heart seemed to cease beating as she leaned eagerly forward—listening intently for any response; and it quickly came in the shape of three thundering raps, showing that there was somebody inside and that some one a person who was decidedly alive, so she at» tacth the line, which was still fastened to the car, to the stern of the boat, and turning the prow toward the shore, pulled vigorously, and .‘ with long, steady strokes, With the precision of I amachine, in the direction of the cove toward which the tide and current had carried them, and soon entering upon its smoother waters, leaped onto the sand and drew the life-car into shallow water. The bottom of the car was heavily weighted with bars of lead, which had prevented its roll- in completely over, serving as they did as ba last, while the iron case, being completely 3 air-tight, had floated over the waters like a life- boat. As the iron grated on the sand, the trap-door, which opened outward, was lifted, and the. pale face of a handsome youth peered inquirineg out, and Luke, seeing no one near but the young 1 girl, who was leaning forward awaiting wha the car might bring forth, step out and extended his hand with a wor thanks. He was dripping wet, as he had opened the of grateful : l “You must carry him up to the lantern I which I dare not leave unattended; and there I I can care for and nurse him, while the child can : remain with him.” And Luke, tenderly lifting the almost inani- i mate body in his strong young arms, carried ; him up the winding stairs and placed him care- ‘: fully on the lounge, where he washed and re- ! bandaged his numerous wounds, after dressing 2 them With some healing ointment kept on hand in the light—house. He then called to the girl, who came 11 , fol- ; 10wed by Lillian, and hastily ate some lunch ‘ that was set before him, and then prepared to ! dispose of the bodies which demanded his atten- ! tion. l Procuring a pick-ax and spade, he descended to l the little cove, where he dug a deep trench in l the yielding sand, far above high-water mark, : and then, carrying the bodies one by one, and wrapping them in heavy canvas, he placed the ‘ three side by side in the iron life-car, and with l ropes, after closing the trap and shooting the 1 outside bolt, lowered it into the ve he had 1 (ring, while the tears of the girl ell thick and 3 ast. ‘ The life-car had become a coffin! CHAPTER XII. SOUGHT AND FOUND. i As the foremast fell into the sea with a .erri- ble crash, a cry went up from the crowd that trap more than once to obtain a 811 ply of I had gathered on the beach to render what as- ‘INSh 81". Without "311011 he won“ sure 3' have ‘ sistance thegamight, for they realized that the suffocated, for the waves had dashed in, drench- ; ing him through and through, and he had only been preserved from freezing by the brandy contained in flasks, which was secured to the .sides olithe life—car. Drawin the iron casket high up on the beach, he follow the girl up the precipitous path which led to the top, and at her suggestion entered the dwelling to procure dry garments, while the girl proceeded to the light-house, and walking around it saw that horror 13pm] horror was ac- cumulatin about her, an breathed sprayer of thanksgiving that she was no longer alone, and that through her eflorts Luke was now , near to protect her, for, although she had never seen him before, there was something in the youth’s frank, ingenuous, noble countenance that inspired faith and led her to repose implicit confidence in him. In front of the door which led into the light- house, and lying at the bottom of the dozen ‘ steps,wrapiped in a magnificent Cashmere shawl, lay an In an, so enwrapped in bandages and so plastered over, as she saw him when she had thrown the covering back from his shoulders, that he resembled nothing so much as an Egyptian mummy; while his bronsed face wore .a tense, drawn expression and was waxen in its color,heightening the likeness into startling reality; and kneeling b his side, and calling vonrhim with plaintive c es, was a dainty little fairy creature, with sky-blue eyes and. olden locks, who seemed the incarnation of spintuelle loveliness. Pinned to the shawl was a piece of paper {vhich the girl quickly unfastene , and opening t read: "Captain Wrake,"—and at the name she shud- dered—“ endeavors d in vain to keep his oath, and to allow this man to go free; " It is through no fault of his that he was injured: and now he. fearin that the dam air of the cave may prove fatalto im sendsthe ndian to theli ht- house at Bell Point for hotter care and nursing i an he is able to give." A hurried footstep behind her caused her to turn rapidly with a thrill of terror, but it was only Luke, who, dressed in a suit of her father’s clothes, which were a .world too large for him, was hastening to the light-house to render her any assistance in his power, for a few words spoken after they had left the beach had in- formed him of the awful tragedy which had taken place before. . Catching si ht of the Indian, in an instant he was beside m, and bending low, listened to the labored breathing of the wounded man, as the air hissed between his clinched teeth, and cried: “It is Winnemukal My God, how has this he, need!” i on know him then?” asked the girl, re- ‘lieved all at once ythis recognition, for she "feared that it might be some new trap, set by 'the wreckers. “He saved me from the clutches of Wrake :and his band. not many hours ago, at the immi- nent risk of his life—a nobler heart beats in no human breast than this which flutters so weak] . “ Hz "a Winnemuka—the Last of the Shinne— 'cocks i" “ I know of him; my father often mentioned to me the name of the brave fellow; and what afirm friend of the Whites he was; but who is the little irll” “ A chi d saved from the wreck of the Jessie by Winnemuka, but whose history is unknown to him, the captain hang been crushed to death before he had finish telling the Indian Who she was. “ at what is to be done with the poor fel- flow!” [blowing from the southwest, " Faulconer, who, not being very strong, ’ youth who (1 so bravely imperiled his life to rescue the drowning passengers, must have I been hurled down to instant death, believing ' that he could not escape from the tangled mass , of rigging which wou d revent his swimming, and knowing that, even f he did, the sea pousse, as the Indians call it, or off-shore current, would him far out to sea; for the wind, causes them treacherous currents, which have caused the death of many a strong swimmer along the Long Island Coast. In the life-saving station were collected those saved from the wreck, and among them Irene had suc- cumbed to the fatigue an excitemen and now lay delirious, her congested brain presenting the late scenes in all their intensity, while her piercing cries for help chilled the blood of all those gathered there, and who represented the steamer’s passengers and crew. Raving, she lay there until twenty-four hours had come and gone, when suddenly her cries ceased and sinking under the effect of opiates, she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep, from which she awakened weak but completely re- stored to her senses, and able to listen to the sad story that her aunt had to tell her regarding Luke’s untimely fate. They were alone in the room, for those saved from the wreck had scattered in dilferent direc- tions, and no one was at the station save the crew, who had not ventured near the chamber where she was lying, except to tap occasionally on the door and respectful] ask if they could do anything for the invali Mrs. Harcourt— Irene’s aunt—having distri uted golden gifts bountifully among the crew. In twent -four hours more the girl was al- most comp etely restored and able to leave the room, so, walking out among the brave fellows, who rose as she entered their living-room, and who congratulated her in rough but heartfelt words, she shook hands with each and warmly thanked them for what they had done for her, although they disclaimed any mood of praise, tellin her she owed her life to the brave lad who d, with. a self-abnegation which was more than heroic, risked his life to hear them succor. And the girl determined that she would leave no effort unspared to find the lad—if well and safe to load him with gifts—if dead, to give him decent burial and erect over his grave a monu- ment bearing the inscription—than which none awarding her raise could be found: “he gave his ife oro ersl” She did not even know his name, but then she realized that she would know him among thou- sands, and calling) to the captain of the life- savers, she asked im to take a short walk with her on the beach to which request be instantly assented, and followed her out into the open air, which was sharp yet refreshing to Irene, feet out of the water and pointed straight up to Heavsn while, gazing on the smooth "waters, she coud scarcely realize that they could he lashed into the tremendous fury that she had witnessed such a short time before, while the awful experiences of that night were recalled faintly, like a dream. Seating herself on a little bank of sand, while the life-saver stood before her, respectfully wait- ing for what she might have to say, Irene, turn- : ing to him, requested his advice. “You know, Captain Ludlow, under what extreme obligations both my aunt and I are to the brave to" l'w'hmm‘rr’ VS. iir". i i‘esltliat I and they strolled along the yielding sand until 4 opposite the wreck, which having slid oil! into I deeper water, as the tide had changed, was only ‘ located by the mainmast, which stood some, gannot rest until I have partially repaid the ebt. “ I will search the shores of this island until I find, or hear ol’, him.” “The currents are strong, Miss Irene ”—he knew her by no other name—“and bodies are often carried as far as Montauk Point before they are washed ashore, as I know from per- sonal observation.” “ To Montauk?” “Yes miss.” “ And how far is that?” “ Twengy-four miles at least.” “Then will search the coast for twenty-five ‘ miles.” “But sometimes bodies are carried past the Point as far as the Connecticut shore, so swiftly set the tides and the currents.” “ Then I will search the Connecticut shore,” was the calm reply. “Then, if you are determined, I would sug- est—H “Ah, it was to hear your suggestions that I requested you to come with me. " You can hire some of the fishermen to row , ipu along the coast, close to the shore, as far as * ontauk, and thus inspect every inch of the l beach as you pass along. y “ Andean you make the arrangements for m‘e‘rI can.” - I “ And you will!” “With leasure.” “ Then et us return, and the sooner you can com lete our preparations the better.” “ u an our can have the crew here.” “ Thank you very much,” and rising, she re— turned to the station, while the captain went in search of the crew. h Within the promised hour, the boat, manned t by four sturdy fishermen, was lazily rocking on the placid waters, 0 posite the station, and . . Irene, accompanied y her aunt, after a in f thanking the captain and his crew, walked. to l“ the water‘s edge, and the boat being backed ,tv ashore, stepped into the stern-sheets, seated her- ; self 23' her aunt, who was already comfortably , settl , and amidst many good wishes from the 1 crew, gave the signal to let fall cars and give . way, and bending ferward, she spoke to the » stroke-oarsman: " " I presume that Captain Ludlow gave you your instructionsi’ “ Yes miss: to hug the shore as close as pos- sible to Montauk, an examine every inch 0’ the w x;~.N -"- nan m 7.1V ay.” *, b0; Erractly; and do you think we can find the I y I “ Well, miss, it’s hard tellin’; my three boys " jerking his head back over his shoulder, "'11.. not let an thin’ pass their eyes; but who know i if the la be at tangled in the wreckage, an‘, down at the bottom 0’ the seal" ,1 “ Oh, no, do not discourage me; you know‘ what he did for us, and ”——a storm of sobs in- terrupted her, while the old sailor, resting his ‘ bronzed hand tenderly on hers, while he pulled steadily on, tried to cheer her. , “ There, there, my pretty, I’m an old croaker, an’ desarve to take his place if he be drowned; '; yet a lad like that, who done wonders to save ‘ ye, he’ll not be made food for the fishes ’ithout , a struggle, and more’n likely we’ll find him as ' smart as a clipper ship in a six-knot breeze.” ,. The homely words of the kindly old salt ‘, cheered and comforted her, and soon she was smiling through her tears, but only answered: . “God grant that your last prophecy may come true i” To which the four oarsmen ded with one voice and reverently baring their heads: . “ Amen l” . , And so they sped along until they came al— . most opposite East Hampton, where is situated a life-saving station, and there they landed; but , no clew was gained from the crew. “ A lot 0’ wreckage has drifted , miss,” said one of the men, after he had been told the - object of their search, “an’ not knowin’ but .- some poor fellow might be a-clingin’ to it, we’ve 2 irep’ a sharp lookout, but we hain’t seen noth- j n I “Sorry, miss, but if anythin’ turns up we’ll ~ report to the Bridgehampton , for our men an’ theirs meet half-way atween the stations, an’ exchange checks. “ ood-by, miss, an’ good luck 1” And the boat once more proceeded on its mournful search, at times stopping as some ob- ject lying at the water’s edge attracted their - attention, but which, on closer inspection, ' proved to be an old ship’s timber, a sunken l or stump, or in some instances, portions 0 the “ Circasslan,” proving that they were on the right track. And so they rowed steadily along, until night came, and they landed and sought shelter at a farm-house for the night, it being hospitany accorded them, the good woman of the farm sympathizing with the girl and weavin a little romance in which Irene and the lost figured as sweethearts. An early start the next day, a careful search, not an inch of the coast remaining uninspected. but without result, until they reached the rocky.- prcmnf-r‘, iry of Tumult, and, rout;:.mu $1.: . ’33:. tie Luke, the Lite-Saver. V Poi at, landed on the northern side, and climb- 1 ing tne steep clilfs, repeated their inquiries at I the Eight-house, but the same disheartening an- | swer was returned, and heart-sick they retraced .‘ their steps to the boat, and Were about to enter, ' when one of the keepers, whom they had not seen, came shouting after him, and as he came 1 up with the party, said: “When I was on watch, last ni ht, miss, I 4 saw somethin’ carried around the ’int by the 1 current, which set off to the north’ard, and it i looked like a boat or lot 0’ wreck. “ The current must ’a’ carried it toward Bell— a Point, an’ if you sail for there—” I “ Yes, yes,” interrupted the irl; “ thank, oh, thank you!” and she tenderediim a glittering piece of gold, which he, however, declined. “ We may be a rough lot, miss, but we don’t ask no favors when we can help any one. Thank ye kindly, miss, but I’d rather not take it. “ Then take my hand i” impulsively cried the girl, blushing at the thought of havmg hurt his feelings, and she took the honest keeper warmly by the hand, and then sprung lightly into the boat, with renewed hope. ’ A gentle breeze was blowing from3 the south, and a leg of mutton sail was hoisted, and they bowled merrily along until darkness came on and the light at Bell I’oint shone out brighter and brighter until, about midnight, they were within a ha! -mile of the shore. But suddenly a bright blaze leaped high in the air, and by its flaming light they could see that the house of the keeper was burning furi- ously, the tongues of fire leaping high through the roof amid a cloud of smoke and sparks, and standing by one of the chimneys was a human figure, which as they approached closer and closer, loomed gigantic, until his features could begéstinguished, and Irene, leaping to her feet, on : “ It is our Preserver!” when, with a mighty crash, thefiroo fell in, and Luke was dashed into the seething mass below. CHAPTER XIII. PISTOLS AT TEN PAGES. WALTER LANGLEY entered his private office hurriedly, and removing his overcoat, hung it with his hat on its accustomed nail, and then entering the room where his partner George Edgerton was seated, greeted him warmly: " Well, my boy,” cried the latter, ‘ for a love-lorn swain—I might say a ‘ rass Bene- dict ’—you look pretty blooming, must con- less. “ How fares the fair Irene?” “Well, I hope, George; she sailed yesterday morning, early, and as I had to run over to Philadelphia, I made my adieum on the evening before. “ 1 only just returned; what is the news!” and the two young brokers were soon deeply engaged in the mysteries of stocks and bonds; puts and calls, seller’s and buyer’s option, short and long, and all the other puzzling intricacies that Eewilder any one who is a stranger in Wall stree . While they were thus busily engaged, it being well on in the afternoon, the door of the office was thrown open, and a stylishly-dressed young man, apparent! about twenty-four years old, handsome as a recian god, but bearing on his fine features the unmistaiZ‘able stain of a wild and profligate life, entered, and tily ap- groaching Langley with extended hand, ad- ressed him: “ Walter, my boy, I sym thize with you!” while in the street could be eard the newsboys cryin : “ E‘gening Telegram; all about the terrible wreck!” Leaping to his feet, and not noticin the out- stretched hand which was still held ex ded earnestness at the columns of the pa r which the office-boy at that moment broug in; and - this was what he read: “WRECK OF THE CIRCABSIAN. “ Tan Inon S'rsmsa GOES Aeneas: IN A Snow-Squat. AND Banks To Pincus. “Tar Ban“! on As Usuown You'rn Sun was PAssENGims AND CREW Fae)! A TERRIBLE FATE. “ [Special to the TelegramJ " Baimsmrron. March —. 187-. “ The iron steamer Circassian of the Vanderbilt line, came ashore in a snow-squall, yesterday after— noon, grounding hard and fast on t e bar. All the i broke the silence ems-ts of the life-crew to throw a line over the doomed vessel Were futile, while the tremendous 1 breakers prevented the launching of thelife~boat. A brave lad. unknown to any present, succeeded. after aterrible stn1~::‘e, in reaching the steamer with a line. late at nighmiml the life car brought all safe to land except the youth, who remained on board until i the last, and was pre aring to leave the wreck, ! when the foremast fe! . dragging him into the sea , with it. and he was undou ted y lost. All of the . passengers and crew—save one—were rescued. The l e'tleankier has slid off into deeper water and is a total , . 1;, , , “ [Miss Faulconer, the daughter of the gentleman so mysteriously murdered, yesterday morning, and his sister, Mrs Harcouit, were assengers on the wrecked teamer; but are dou tiess among the saved ~Ei>rrca1” “ Mr. Faulconer murdered! Irene wrecked! Good heavens, George! what horror is this! “ My yacht is at Babylon, and I will go there at once and sail down to Bridgehampton and see if I can be of any assistance to Irene.” The cold, cuttin voice of Maurice Cowdrey efore. Edgerton could an- swer: “ You will kindly speak of the young lady whom you just mentioned as Miss Faulconer, Mr. Langley, in the future!” “And by what right, sir, do you presume to dictate to me regarding anything I may as re- lating to the young lady whose name you ave just mentioned?” “ By the right that I assume as her future husband 1” “ Her future husband i” “ Precisely,” returned the sneering voice. “ Irene Faulconer bears on her hand the ring which is the pledge of our engagement,” re- torted Langley, while he grew cooler and cooler as his passion rose. ‘éEi’igaged to you / In faith a good joke, an — ’ “ Hold, sir, no more, I command you i” “ My dear fellow, you are crazy; if you have been jilted, console yourself with the thought that the sea yet contains as excellent fish as ever were caught; ta-ta, I must leave you, as I also wish to be with Irene in her present dis- tress. “ This afi'air will hasten our wedding, and I will send you both an invitation—” “Now, b the gods above us, ou lie in your throat, an I Will choke the astardly words back into your black heart!” And the young broke sprung upon Cowdrey and dashed him to toe oor; but in an instant more Edgerton, a perfect oung Hercules, had separated them and counse ed calmness. “ Yon will hear from me soon Mr. Langley,” remarked Cowdrey, coolly, as he brushed the dust from his coat and arranged his disordered attire. ' “ To whom can I send my friend?” “ George you will serve me ?” asked Langley, turning to his partner and bosom friend. “But cannot this matter be arranged?” “ No compromise is possible,” returned both the young men, while Edgerton seeing that the affair was inevitable, turned to Langley: “ Then, Walter, command me; Mr. Jowdrey, 1 will remain here until six; good-afternoon.” And the three young men saluted each other courteously, when Cowdrey opened the door and disa ‘peared. “ ell, wall, Walter,” said his partner, as the door closed, “ this is an unfortunate affair; but it is done, and there is no help for it; what ar- ran ements shall I make?" “ o-morrow morning, sunrise, Sandy Hook, pistols, ten paces.” “ But Cowdrey has the reputation of being a dead shot, and—” “ Excuse me, George. if 1 leave you now,” re turned the other, indifferent] , and apparently not heading his friend’s remar ; “ I have letters to write and m lawyer to see, so will go; you will find me at elmonico’s about seven; I will remain there until you arrive; but come as soon as you can, I want to go to the theater this eve- ning to see the new opera—good-afternoon.” And be, putting on his hat and coat, left his partner marveling at his coolnesa Within an hour a discreet tap was heard at the door, and in response to his reply, a gentleman walked in and greeted Edgerton warmly: , “ Ah, sir, angpleasantlittle aflair that our ‘ Maurice Cowdrey, Langley gazed with ten-lg young “mm b egomw‘ into "11° marked, as in r nseto the young broker’s invitation he so himself; This new-corner wash man‘ of anywhere be- tween forty andsixty years, so well was his age d sod and was dressed with exquisite neat- , while hr well-dressed mustache and goatee were withoil a single ay hair, being of a gold- en hue, bnt whether is was due to nature or art it was impossible to tell. His eyes were his bad feature, never looking any one square in the face,but restlesst shifting about with quick and ferret—like glances, while in his button-hole he wore ared ribbon, the pres- ence of which he always explained airjly, wav- ing the matter aside with his white hand as of no particular importance. while, with his long, supple fingers, that denoted an adept with cards, he rolled a cigarette. “ The ribbon of the Legion of Honor, my dear boy; given me in France for gallant conduct during the commune.” He was thoroughly familiar with the ” Code ;” had “been out ” numerous times, and was con- sidered authority on all matters connected with dueling; while, if his reputation was a little shady, he had always managed to esca detec- tion in any dishonorable practices, an was re- ceived by the best society, besides being a mem- ber of the best.up-town clubs. “I am here, Mr. Edgerton, at the request of i Mr. Cowdrey; if Mr. Langley will offer a public apology—” “ None will be offered, public or private.” “ This is your ultimatum?” “ Irrevocably.” “ Then I am authorized to challenge Mr. Wal-' tor Langley to meet Mr. Maurice Cowdrey at' the time, lace, and‘with what weapons the for- mer may esignate.” “ Tomorrow at sunrise, colonel, we will be at Sandy Hook, with pistols—ten paces, by the way, is the distance decided upon—and will there await your arrival.” “If we do not precede you,” laughineg re- turned Colonel Breytoune, as, bowing low in acknowledgment of the courtes , he passed out of the door, which Edgerton he d wide open for, him. Having nothing further to detain him at the oflice, George Edgerton, hastening to Broadway, jumped into a passing cab and was rapi y driven to his apartments, where be unlocked a cabinet and took outacase of dueling—pistols which were of extreme neatness and finish an " as clean as if just from the gunsmith’s, and these he examined with care, inspecting also the pew- der-flask to see that it was full and the compart- ments where were kept the bullets, caps and wedding, to see that there was ample supply of these materials, and then, taking the case under his arm, he roceeded to the restaurant, where. he found “Palter seated at a table spread for' three, in company with a physician whom he: knew well. “ Ah, George. We were expecting you“ sit down. Doctor Zachary, you know.’ And calling the waiter, they were soon en— gaged in discussing their dinner, talking of a thousand things, but never mentioning the duel, and, their repast finished, they promeded to the theater, which they enjoyed thoroughly, Edger- ton being the most worried of the trio. , As they left the place of amusement Walter, turning to his partner, informed him of what he had done. “I have engaged a tug, George, and she lies at the Battery, awaiting us; the doctor goes along.” / “ Yes,” laughed the physician; “ you know, Mr. Edgerton, we are necessary evils; but I hope our rash young friend here will not need my services.” ' “And if I do, doctor,” returned Langley, “ I know of no one in whose skill I have as much faith.” The old ractitioner did not answer, but let his hand all caressingly on the goun man’s shoulder,an action that spoke muc lou er than words. Not long after they reached the Battery, and, [ having embarked, were soon steaming down the Bay, and arrived at their destination long be- fore daybreak, and there lay to Walter Lang-- leg slee ing quietly until aroused by Edgerton w o to d him that it was nearly sunrise and that a yacht was ra idly approaching, when he went on deck, and 9 three were soon landed, lwhile the tug steamed oil? to return in half an our. The yacht was thrown u into the wind, and Cowdrey and the colone soon joined them, when the latter and Edgerton measured oi! the ground and loaded the weapons, which were then handed to the rincipals, who had been stationed in their p es, when Breytoune, takin asilver coin from his pocket, fli ped it highd the air to decide which should give the wor . “ Heads!” cried Edgerton. But, at the same moment, Walter, raising his: pistol, fired at the spinnin coin, and the gl tter- ing piece of silver. struc fair, fiew far away over the sand. “When you match coins, George,” cool! re- 'marked Langle , “you almostinvariably c oose ‘heads,’ and th s fact is well known. “ Pick 11 that coin and see if there are not two sides a ike-both being tails.” The coin was picked up, and it was as Walter ' had said. “ I know the colonel, and merely want fair play, for 1 think Mr. Cowdrey might firo before the iword if it was given by his second; toss aga n. Another coin was produced and George won the toss, and, Walter’s pistol bein again re- loaded neither Bre tonne nor Cow rey saying a word, although t e latter was evidently un- firveld by the marksmanship displayed by _ n ey. “ entlemen," cried George, “ I shall ask if you are ready, then, if I hear no response, shall say ‘ Fire, one, two three!’ He Who fires before. the first word, or after the last, attempts to com- mit murder I “ Are you ready? Fire! one—tw—J’ The simultaneous re rts broke out on the. still air as one shot, wh le the smoke drifted 011', and the three witnesses of the tragedy stood for a moment without stirring a finger. , CHAPTER XIV. THE BAP'risn or FIRE. , TEE mournful task rformed, and the last shovelful of sand being eaped upon the grave, i Luke, the Life-Saver. a few stones being piled up around it to mark house with the little gm, while Luke, going 1 the spot, the three—for Lillian had refused to remain away from Carrie, for whom she had instantly acquired a great liking— returned to the light-home and were relieved to find Winne- muka still sleeping soundly, as they had left him. Taking into consideration the heavy and smoke-laden condition of the atmosphere inside the lantern when the lamps Were lighted, Luke proposed that they should remove the wounded man to the dwelling, where he would be more comfortable; but to this the girl would not ac- cede. “The wreckers may return at any instant,” she arpm d, “ and if he were there he could not be pr01sn~‘ed; here he is at least comparatively safe.” “But i m-v released him once, and—" “ Then ls some mystery connectod with this that We cannot fathom; we must wait patiently until W mnemuka can enli hten us.” “Thlml will go to the ouse and rest, for I am completely tagged out; and, in the future, until you can get some word to headquarters, I will attend to the light.” “ Indeed, no; I look upon it as a sacred charge left to me by my father, who often told me, should anything befall, to guard the light care- full§ ’ “ ou insist?” H I do.” “ Then so be it; but I will share your vigil with you.” “ Thank you,” replied the girl, simply, and then set about trimming the lamps and supply- ing thereservoirs with oil, while Luke, descend- ing and proceeding to the house, was soon fast asleep. Soon after dark he awoke, and hastily dress- ing himself returned to the lantern, from which the rays streamed clear and bright, and there found Lillian sound aslee on an improvised bed, spread on the floor, w ika the daughter of the lighthouse-kee r was seated besule the lounge on which innemuka was lying and talking to him, and as the boy entered, the In- dian, with a faint smile, extended his hand as best he could, so weak was be from loss of blood and from the exertion of talking. Warning him to remain silent and not to fur- ther fati e himself the girl related to Luke what the ndian had told her, re arding his cap- turn and escape, and then as innemuka fell off to slee again, asked the boy to watch the lamps for gal an hour, until she could go to the house and obtain a change of apparel. The night passed, another day came, and as a coasting-schooner hove to off the point, and a small boat shot out from her side in the direc- tion of the cove, Luke went to meet it, and found that it was a friend of the keeper, who always stopped to bring letters and papers, and to him the boy related the thrilling experiences of the girl and requested him to re rt the same at New York, that it might be orwarded to. Washin ton. The'od sailor became very much excited when he heard of his friend’s death, and ripped out a volley of oaths, directed at the wreckers. that made the very air blue, but soon quieted down, and, at Luke’s su gestion, went to the lighthouse to see Carrie omer. He cheered and c0mforted the girl with rough but kindly words, and then, seeing the inciian, after climbing the lantern, turned to u e. “That poor fellow’ll die if he stays here; let me take him on my schooner and land him at New London, where he’ll get ood d0ctors; as for the nussin’, I dhn’ b’lieve ihnt kin be im- proved on. “ What d’ye say?" “ A good suggestion, captain; and if you will help me, we’ll ca him down together.” “Take hold, lad, take hold; I’ll see that he getsa good berth! Winnemuka was careful! carried down the nan-way, and, being pl in the rowboat was rowed alongside, and the falls being hooked on, was ii on board and laid in a swing- cot,-that was hastily rigged! for him, when Luke, grasping his hand, wished him a speedy recovery. “ Winnemuka will soon get well; take care of the little one!” “ With my life i” “ Soon back, and then Luke will learn some- t'h‘i‘ngbod-by.” H Good.by, Winnemuka; and good luck.” Returning to the deck, the boy thanked the bluff old mariner, and was then quickly rowed ashore, while the schooner, as it courtesying farewell, leaned far to leeward, and scudded oil! before the wind, her white sails shining in the bright sun, while the water rippled away from her bows in foaming masses that shimmered like molten silver. stoining the girl, who stood on the clifl, handkerchief in hand, waving a farewell to the de arting vessel, while Lillian clung con- flqing y to her dress, her deep blue eyes welling With tears as she realized that Winnemuka had left her, he advised her to take what rest she could. which advice she took, returning to the \ "IV ' a. '1, to the lantern, snatched a few hours’ sleep; on the lounge which had been Winnemukas} He was awakened by the return of the girl, and, after proceeding to the vestibule, he set to work to strengthen the defenses of the door, in , which he succeeded so well as to render it al- most im reg-name, and then, bidding the girl good-night, ie walked out on the cliff, but was called back by Ca rrie, who said: “Luke "—for she knew no other name-“ I feel uneasy to-night, and do not believe that the Wreckers are going to allow this matter to dro . ’ “flint you are safe, now that the door is held by the three bars instead of one.” “ Yes, I know; Lillian and I will be out of danger; but you?” “ Oh, do not worry about me.” it But_” “ Do not worry, for I will be all right.” “You are going to the house to remain, to- night?” “ I am.” ' . “ But why not remain here, where you will be safer, with Lillian and me?” “ The house would be unprotected, and they might enter and plunder it." ‘ There is nothing there worth their trouble. ” “ But I prefer to remain there; they are vin- dictive enough to destroy the furniture from mere revenge.” “ Well, let them.” “No, indeed! But are there any arms there?” “ Arms!" it Yes.” “ None at all; father had a rifle, but broke some of the mechanism last week, and had no opportunity of getting it repaired; but I have my revolver.” “Well, then, I must do without. I will not take your weapon." “ You had better reconsider your determina- tion." “ I have reconsidered, so good-night again.” “ Well, if you uill go, good-night.” “ Fasten t e door firml .” “ I will; I trust you wi not be disturbed.” “ Do not fear.” ' Luke then proceeded to the dwelling, and, en- tering, examined the doors and windows, and was relieved to find the fastenings intact, the latter being closed with heavy shutters, and firmly securing them, he lighted a lamp, and picking up a book, was soou deeply interested in its pages, while the hours sped on until the clock on the mantel chimed one. Rousing himself he walked to one of the win- dows which lacked out toward the light-house, and, peering through the cracks, saw that the lamps were burning steadily, and that every- thing was apparently quiet; but as he was turn- ing away he heard the low murmur of voices just outside. and for an instant his heart seemed to stop beating; but he was a brave lad, and soon regained his nerve and usual coolness, so raising the sash very softly, he listened. “ The boy is inside, for seen him go in, an’ heard him fasten the door an’ I know he hain’t gone out since,” whis r a voice. “ Yes, an’ the 1i ht s a-burnin’ inside now.” “Then surroun the house, and if he tries to escape, shoot him down 1” “ And shall we light up now, captain!” (6 Ya.” In an instant the shivering of glass was heard as the window leading into the cellar, the existence of which was unknown to Luke, was shattered, and soon a crackling was heard be- low, while in a few minutes more the floor on which hewas standing became so hot that he could not hear his feet on the carpet, which be- gan to scorch, and dense clouds of smoke filled the room with stifling vapor so that, not dar- ing to brave the bullets which would certainly seek his life he was forced to the second sto , whence the saping flames quickly drove him the roof. And there he stood while the wreckers below jeered and booted at him, while the best be- came unsup rtable, and the smoke and the sparks whir ed in eddying clouds around him, until finally the ordeal became more than he could bear, and he was about to leap into the incandescent mass below to end his agony, when the roof fell in, and, instinctively, he leaped onto the chimney by which he was standing, lowered himself down into it and let : go, sliding rapidly down, scratchin his hands * and face until, finally, he struck, eet first, in an ice-co d body of water, which covered him completely, entirely submerging him. CHAPTER XV. a waraar GRAVE. MAURICE Cownanr had fallen, shot through the body, and as the old physician bent over ' him he shook his head despairingly, as though the wound werea mortal one and no ho of his recovery was to be expected, while alter ; Lan ley, pale and stern, stood in his tracks, Ewai' ting what tidings his second might bring f 1m. ‘ are rash and im While the physician was examining the wounded man Colonel Breytoune, having spoken a word or two to Doctor Zachary, walked to where Langley was standing. “ It is now my turn, sir,” he said drawing himself up pompoust and addressing Walter. “ Your turn, sir?” asked the young broker. “ Mine, sir!” “ You will pardon me, colonel; but, really 1—” “ A gross insult has been offered me, sir, and ' by you, uud I demand instant satisfaction; in- stant satisfaction, sir.” “ But, sir—” “ But me no buts, sir!” interrupted Breytoune, savagely. “ If words are not strong enough, then—3 And leanin forward he slapped Langley on the cheek wit his Open hand before the young man Could ward off the blow. His blood boiled, for he was naturally quick- tem ered, while he cried: “ at it be, sir, as you wish—here are the weapons, and we will dispense with seconds. Mr. Edgerton will give us the word, if it so pleases you.” The doctor and Langley's partner, hearing the angry words, had turned and witnessed the blow, and now came running t0ward the dispu- tants. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, this has gone far enough—sufficient blood has already been shed. Let me prevail upon you to let this matter drop,” cried the old physician, trembling as he spo e. “ No interference will be tolerated, Doctor Zachary,” retorted the colonel. “ Only this gen- tleman’s blood or mine can wipe out this stain on In honor. “ r. Edgerton, will you load the weapons, measure the distancwten paces?" turning to Langley, who merely b0wed—“ and give us the word 2” George turned to his friend with an imploring look on his face, but received no encouragement from him. “ This affair must be decided at once; please do as Colonel Breytoune requests, rge. ’ With a sigh, the young broker turned to the case, took the pistols and loaded them in full sight of the two adversaries, and stationed them, while the old doctor stood muttering something that sounded like: “ Hot-headed young tool; a little blood-letting will not hurt him a bit.” Then Edgerton spoke. “ Gentlemen, the signal will be as before-— ‘ Are you ready? Fire, one, two, three!’ “Remember my former caution, gentlemen, and do not shoot before the word ‘ Fire l’ or after the word ‘ Three!’ ” An instant of silence followed, and then came the question: “ Are you ready l” But before he could open his lips to pronounce the succeeding word agreed upon, Colonel Brey- toune raised his weapon and fired point-blank at Walter, who remained upright, a sneering smile on his lips, while his hat flew high in the air, showing how narrow had been his escape. “ Colonel Breytoune adds attempted murder to his long list of accomplishments, 1 see,” he quiet— ly remarked, while the old doctor and Edgerton broke out in a storm of invective against the would-be assassin, and Breytoune, pale and trembling, awaited his fate, for he had witnessed Walter’s skill as a marksman, and knew that his opponent could demand, and be entitled to, a return shot. But the cold, cutting tones again broke out on the air as Langley addressed him: “ These weapons, sir, have never been pointod at any but sup sod entlemen, for I use other arms with whic to k‘ lcurs. “ I will not d them b aiming at you and taking your ife, for I hol it in my hands. “ If you doubt it, look!” A sea-gull was sailing over the waters not far from where they stood, and wheeling and, ap- parently without aiming, Walter fired, and the ird dropped stone-dead into the sea, shot through the head; and, handing his istol to Edgerton, Len ley walked towhere his t was lying with a bu et-hole through the crown, picked it up with a smile, and, without a word, walked toths beach, where he stood awaiting the arrival of the tug Ed erton soon following with the case of istois un er his arm. he tug soon have in sight, when the doctor ‘ a proached the two friends hurriedly, and clap- p n Walter on the shoulder, cried: “ yboy, you did nobly, nobly! but it was only what I expected of you. “1 cannot leave that poor fellow, as his con— dition is extremely precarious, and must return to the city with him; you understand?” “ Certain] , doctor, certainly, and thank you very much or (your kindness in coming. H search will lea meI know not whither,” will say good-by for a few days.” The old man grasped his l at tretched hand warmly, and, with tears in his load eyes, said “Now, Walter, be careful. You know you tuous, and often get into un- necessary troub e; let me beg of you to be can. tious.” . 12: Luke, thELlfe'SaY?“ b P! 32‘ Good-b ,Walter; good-by, George, and may Heaven ai you in your search 1” The row-boat soon landed, and once aboard the tug the two young men seated themselves in the bow, while, in obedience to Langley’s orders, the stanch little craft steamed saucin out to sea. The sea was smooth, and they sped along mer- ril y until nearing Fire Island, when George sud- denly changed the conversation. “ Are you going to land at Babylon, Walter, and there take your yacht?” “No; the wind is so light that it would take Ins forever to reach Bridgehampton, so I have «decided to retain the tug and steam down on the .coast.” , “ We stop at Bridgehamptoni” “ Most certainly.” “ But in all probability you will find that Miss Faulconer has alread departed.” “ It is precisely to nd out what she has done :that I am on my way there.” " Well, don’t get angry.” u Angry p) “Yes: your tone, if not your words, implies that on are not in the best of humor.” . “r, ho would be, after the events of this mom- in 5' True; so forget my remark.” “ It is forgotten. ” And this little cloud swept away, they once more resumed their friendly conversation, for a moment intenupted,which continued until they arrived at the wreck, when, the tug being stopped, Walter, jumping into the boat, was rowed close to the shore, where stood one of the life—savers, who informed him of Irene’s de- parture, and he quickly returned on board, and they steamed off; but the propeller had made scarce a hundred revolutions when it sud- denéy itopped, and presently the engineer came on so . “ Shaft's cracked, captain,” he “ and it will take some time to fix it. And there they lay all through the night and well into the next day before the damage was repaired, when they again steamed 011', the sea, providentially, remaining in a state of quiet until Montauk was reached, and from inform- ition there obtained they headed for Bell Point i ht. flaring blaze attracted their attention as "explained , ' ~ they drew near, and the eyes of all were turned i l toward the burning building, when suddenly ll about was heard, and looking up they saw a . vast black mass rapidly bearing down upon 1 them, which crashed into the tug, striking it amidshi s, and it careened to port, turned Over, and sun . Edgerton was in the pilot-house, while Lang- ley was standing in the bows, and the latter, his foot catching in a cable coiled there, was dragged down by the suction, and,with a despairing cry, sunk to the bottom of the sea. He had escaped the bullets only to be swal- lowed up by the waves! CHAPTER XVI. TRAPPED. “IT is our preserverl” cried the young girl, and then as the roof crashed in and the boy dis- appeared she shrunk back into her seat, cover- ing her face with her hands to shut out the ter- rible sight that confronted her, while all the rest of the inmates of the boat gazed horror-stricken at the catastrophe which they were powerless to prevent. But they pulled ashore as rapidly as they could, and, landing, made the boat fast and then began the difficult ascent of the cliff, climbing with difficulty in the darkness up the precipitous path which led to the plateau above, and as the leader of the crew the old man, whose sons fol- lowed closely after him, reached the top he turned with a warning motion and stopped suddenly, crouching down, while the others, reaching his side, also looked over the top of the bank at the strange scene that was spread before them. A hand of a dozen men encircled the li ht- tern,while the shivering lass fell in fragments to the turf beneath, ma ing it impossible for 1house and were firing shot after shot at the an- i any one to venture out on the balcony, save rat the risk of their lives, whilea half-dozen of their comrades were endeavoring to force the door, but, as their exclamations of rage told, without sucoess, for the staples sunk in the stone walls b Luke held firm and the iron bars retained the oor firmly in its place, so at len h the wreckers desisted for a moment and he] a short consultation, which resulted in two of the band going into the still burning building and procuring some of the blazin timbers with which they returned to the light- ouse. Placin the brands against the wooden door, they ma e tripJ after trip and finally piled the blazing wood igh on the steps, while a li ht wmd fanned the red Cinders into a glowmg flame, and the door soon be an to crackle and burn, while the men kept pi ing more and more fuel on the flames. , Many were the exclamations whir-h, then b subdued, were none the less fervent, that bro I “ Never fear, doctor; I’ll be careful, so good- e I from between the clinched teeth of the old sea- captain and his three sons, while the quartette chafed at being unable to render any assistance to the inmates of the t0wer; for they were un— aware that it was tenanted only by a helpless girl and an innocent ch11 , who was but a mere infant, or they might have dared all to offer her aid. And finally the door fell in with a crash, and ' the entrance of the tower lay open before them, while the wreckers, with a shout of trium h, rushed in, the rest of the band ceasing to re at the same time, for their only object had been to prevent a seCond shower of fire such as had once descended from the balcony above upon their comrades, one of whom, terribly scorched ' and burned, had escaped to the cave and related what had befallen them. V As the band entered the tower they were con— 1 fronted by another door which was at the foot , of the steps leading up to the lantern and which 5 was made of sheet-iron, but only fastened by a single bolt from the inside, which quickly gave way to the leverage exerted by the “ jimmies” : with which some of the band were provided, ' and they proceeded cautiously up the stairs, not knowing what unknown danger might con— i front them at any moment, for the shooting of their comrade in the lantern had been wit- nessed by some of the band, and they did not know at what instant the report of the revolver i might ring out on the. stillness of the wind- Q ing stair and their leader fall back, shot to ‘ death. But all was deathly still, and they crept on and upward stealthily, nearing the top step by step, until it seemed as if the girl Were indeed doomed, for what could the frail girl do against , the six well-armed des radoes? I But suddenly the eader stopped—he had , reached the top, and there another door con- 1 fronted him, the one that led into the lantern, j and this also wasof iron, but much more massive I than the one below, and one of the men who, be- ! fore he had jonned the wreckers had been a l keeper in the light-house, whispered to the lead- l or that on the other side of the door there was 1 a landing, and that from there a dozen etc 8 led ; up into the lantern proper through a tra n the I floor and that the door was only fastene by one v lock and could be easily forced. But, try as they would, the door would not yield an inch, for the girl,realizing that the 5 lower door had been forced as she listened at the top of the steps, had brought down the, lounge and,placiug one end against the upper acor, saw “ ith joy that the other end just reach- ed the opposite wall and held the door so firmly braced that, confined us the wreckers would be in the steep and narrow stairway, they Would be unable to force it. In the mean time their comrades had ceased ‘ their fusillade and were congregated about the burning building, for the night was cold, and they, awaiting the course of events, were mak- ing themselves as comfortable as possible, stretched out on the ground, while more than one bottle passed rapidly from hand to hand and the contents fast disappeared. While the old captain and his sons were _ watching the light-house, they sliw a female ,' figure rapidly flit around the lamps, turningi them up, and increasing their flame, for they ; burns dsteadily on, the wind having almost sub- ' sided and not causing them to flicker. “ Great Jerusalem, father,” whispered his el- dest son, “ there’s nobody but a girl therei— x we must do something to help her.” “You‘re right, my lad,” returned the old 1' man. “ an’ if the ladies ’1] stay here—” “ Yes, yes, gol" hurriedly intermpted Irene, I “ and see if you can render her any assistance. “ But pray be cautious l” “ Trust to us, miss, we’ll be careful.” The wreckers around the fire, fearin no in- i tertuption. kept no watch, and ther ore did I not see the four figures that, circling far around, crawled on hands and knees toward i the light-house, and so deeply were they im- i mersed in their carouse, that they took no note ' of time, hoping only that the others would not j return too soon and thus enable them to‘ drink . long and deeply for the fiery li nor was having its effect, and the more they rank the more , they craved. So the tour brave fellows gained an entrance unobserved, and soon stood in the vestibule, ; which was hot and stifling from the late fire, while a few scattered embers cast a faint glow over all the surroundings. The closet door stood wide open, as did the door leading to the winding staircase, and, echoing down the steps, they could hear the voices of the wreckers above, and listening, , soon understood tha'ythey were unable to force a door which baffled them, when a sudden idea entered-the old man’s brain, and was no sooner Conceived than it was immediately put into exe- (Bullion. Followed by the boys, he entered the store- room, where was a huge box filled with cotton wicks, while a large pile of oakum used in polishing the lamps, chimneys and glass, lay piled in one corner, and seizing a quantity of each of these materials, which example was fol- lowed by the other three, he placed it inside the a if sustained b door, on the lower steps, and repeated the oper- ation until it was piled high up, while mingled with it was some refuse stufi? that was greasy with oil. One of the lintels of the store-room door was somewhat worn, and was to have been replaced, so the beam which was to be used for that pur- i pose. was standing up against the wall, and taking this, he braced the door leading to the steps with it, first preventing it from closing tight] by placingapiece of rock, with which one o the boys had armed himself, between the lower step and the door, and finding that the beam reached almost to the walloppositeso that this door could not be forced open from the in- 81 6. He then lighted the mass of oakum and cotton wicks with a coal which he threw into the mass, which, fanned by the draft from the partly- opened door, began to smolder and throw out dense volumes of smoke. High up the steps, near the door where the ‘ wreckers were at work, was a loop-hole, pierced ‘ through the massive masonry to afford light and air, and this acted as a chimney, drawing the smoke up, so that the band above, in an instant Were envel in a cloud of stifii smoke, which choked and blinded them, an turning, they started down the steps. But so dense was the vapor, so choking with its thickness and horrible the stench, that first one and then the other suffocated, succumbed, and in less time than the pen can trace the words, the whole of the band fell to the steep - steps and rolled to the bottom,where they quick- 1 y gasped their last, crawling and struggling to reach the iron barrier which cut them off from air and life. And in a few minutes more the door was thrown open, while the old man and his sons gazed with awe on the work they had wrought. CHAPTER XVII. APPEARANCES AND DISAPPEARANCES. THE heavy cable was firmly fastened about Walter’s ankle, and he was dragged down dee beneath the waves, while the rope uncoil until the block at the end of it floated to the surface of the water, and as the steamer plowed her way on, was caught in the propeller, and as it had not been sto ped, was wound up, twisted about the blades 0 the screw until Langley felt that he was being dragged to the surface, and that some mysterious power was pulling on the ca e. Fortunately, before he came in contact with the whirling blades, the signal was given to stop the engine, and he rose to the surface, and clung to the rudder, while be exerted himself to release his foot from the circling coils, in which he soon succeeded, and then called lustin for help; but the overhanging stern mnfiled his cries, while the roar of escaping steam drowned all other noises, and left his appeal for help un- heeded, so that, hanging to the rudder, he real- ized that it would not be safe to remain there, as at any moms the machinery might be again set in m , and the churning screw would drag '1 down into the boiling waters arid crunch ’find tear him into- a thousand mor- se s. He t refpre climbed'up as far as he could, and n, ieapin fir out, plunged headlong in e I ; but e was not yet through wit his tr , ies, fer as he struck the surface of the atvr, his head encountered a floating spar or in, Which struck him heavily, and he was packed into almost instant insensibility, while fi‘ying on his back across the piece of wreck, he was helpless, and tossed hither and thither at the mercy of the winds and the tides and the currents. As the crash of the collision sounded out on the still night air, when the iron prow of the steamer crunched into the wooden sides of the tug, Irene, turning hurriedly, witnessed the catastrophe. and with this accumulation of hor. rors clustering about her, felt sick and faint, as she stared down on the wreck below, with a rayer for the poor souls who had thus been hurled so suddenly from Time to Eternity' for the full moon shed a silvery radiance over land and sea, and the whole scene, spread almost at her feet, stood out in startling distinctness so that she Blainly saw Walter come to the surface and clim up on the rudder, although she could not distinguish his features, and as she looked she saw him plunge into the waters, and ina moment more the pale face appeared floating as some unseen object, but was so ghastly in its no, as the pale moonlight flooded own upon it, that she realized that he u as un- conscious and powerless to aid himself, while at the same moment the propeller began to re- volve and to churn the water into yeasty foam, while the huge vessel moved off from the spot, Without lowering a single beat or endeavoring in any way to aid the victims of her pilot’s or lookout’s criminal carelessness. And the girl, without sayin aunt, sprung to her feet and fairly flew down the dangerous declivity, escaping a dangerous fall by a miracle, and reachingthe boat panting and trembling in every limb. With a strength w ich the tremendous ex- citement under’ which she was laboring gave a word to her s“ e-srr Lu :-,'Y¥r*11\< ,I’ :. cars into the goat, L— Luke, the Life-Saver. l3 her, she (pushed the heavy craft far out in the a woman in distress, and Luke, forgetting his cove, an then, grasping two of the heavy osrs burns and bruises, hurried to the edge of the in her hands, began to row as best she could to- ; cliff, and shading his sight with his blistered ward the pale moonlight ike a waxen mask, while the heav ashen oars were almost more than her strengt ( ace, that was ghastly in the 5 hand, gazed with searching eye out on the ; moonlit waves a half-mile away from shore, while a dark object nearer him was apparently could handle ' the boat dragged like a mass of i the boat from which they had been lost. lead beneath her frail strokes, and her delicate hands were blistered and torn as she struggled T the woman‘s tones on, slowly but surely nearing the floating body, which, for ought she knew, might be a corpse. But she struggled bravely on, and finally drew alongside the mass of wreckage which supported the oung man and drawing the leaned over the side and recognized who it was that she had come to save, while a cry broke from her lips; the first sound that had issued from them since she had started out on her toilsome ourney: “ Oh, Walter, Walter! ave I only arrived in time to rescue our corpse 1” And she bent ar over and caught him by the arms to lift him into the best, if her stren were equal to the task; but as she lean over the gunwale the boat careened, and she, bein overbalanced, fell into the wa"er alongside er lover while the boat drifted far away, being pushed from her as she tried to regain her equilibrium. One of the wrecker crew, who had drank less than his comrades, began to realize that they were staying away much longer than was no- cessary to force an entrance into the lantern, and as it still shone out clear and bright, he re- alized that some unforeseen obstacle barred their way, so, with the sapient wisdom of an intoxicated man, he decided that he would in- vestigate the matter, and staggerin to his feet, he started with wavering steps in t 8 direction .of the tower, which he finally reached, and stumbled up the steps, and entering the vesti- bule, was instantly seized, bound, and thrown into the store-room. But it was not long before the wreckers, stu- pefied by the liquor though they were, began to realize that something must have hap nod, and one of the men who was accustom to act as their leader when the captain was not with them, aroused himself, and with sundry blows and kicks and oaths succeeded in amusing the sleep crew scattered around, and they grum- bling y arose, and then, as a few wordsvw'ere s ken to them, the funies of theliquor were issipated as if by magic, and a feeling of awe came over the , for they could not understand the awful ness which reigned, while the mysterious disappearance of their companions awed them stilliu‘rther. They couldnot com rehend it, for they knew ' that one fmfl girl 0in d not have defended her- A self long against the Six desperate men who had forced an entrance, and they belieVed that the tower contained no other defenders, for the en- trance to the light-heuse was on the otpposite side from where they were gathered, an could not be seen from there, and it was with cautious steps that they approached the tall white col‘ umn of stone that shone weirdly in the moon- light, like some egreat ghos confronting them, until they arriv opposite he door, when, with a wild shriek, they turned and fled, tumbling over each other in their {eagerness to escape, as they saw standing in he doorway three tall figures clad in white which advanced toward them menacingly, with outstretcned arms and waving hands, ani low, inarticulate moans, while, as they glanced over their shoulders, they saw standing on the balcony a figure that loomed gigantic throu h the clouds of vapor which enveloped it, clad also in white, while the rays of the lamps strug ling throu h the smoke and barely piercing its ense folds, it up the fig- ure with an unearthly glare. And as they ran toward the still burnin building, their teeth chattering with fear, stil another apparition confronted them, for, leap— ing from the very midst of the red-hot coals, hounded a figure with an unearthly screech. waving in each hand a burning torch, which sparkled and crackled in the crisp air; while in the demoniacal vision they recognized the s irit -—as they thought—of Luke, which, rising roni its bed of fire, rushed towardthem in a very whirlwind of flame as if to visit upon them the fate which they had so cruelly wrought upon its former tenement—the lad’s body. And if they Were terrified before, now their fright was trebled, and with wild cries and ex- clamations of fear, they fairl flew down the preci itous Bid98_ of the bin , tumbling head over heels in their efforts to escape the demon which seemed to follow fast in their hurried course, until finally the plateau was deserted save by the boy, who, despite his pains and aches and bruises, could not suppress a ringing laugh which sounded satanic in its wild glee on the ears of the skurrying crowd. But as the boy turned and flun the blazing brands into the ruins of the dwe ling, his ears ught a faint cry, which was borne to him on be gentle night-breeze which was softly blow- ing from the son, and as he listened intently, ‘ stepping quietly in the direction of the sound the cry was repeated, and it seemed the cry 0 ! l I Again the cry came floating over the waters, iteous in their appeal for help, and not hesitating an instant Luke stepped back, and taking a few hurried steps, sprung far out from the cliff and lea into the sea, full forty feet below, and wit a loud splash disappeared beneath the waters, to rise again in an instant and strike out steadily in the direc— tion of the voice which grewfainter and fainter as he a proach ,‘until it washushed, just as he reach , and clambered into, the boat and seiz ing the cars in his scorched. hands, he turned the boat’s row in the direction of the bodies, which he co d now plainly see, and coming alon raide, lifted the girl, who, by this time, was comp etely exhausted, into the craft, recognizing in her the one he had snatched from the'waves the ni ht the “ Circassian ” was wrecked, and laid er carefully in the stern of the boat, and then turned his attention to the man, who, com- pletely stunned, and with the blood flowing from a dee cut in his forehead, had rovi- dentiall fa] en across the beam and t e sea being a eat like glass had suffered no harm from the water, and with much difficulty, suc- ceeded in gettin nim aboard, when he again took the oars and pulled for the cove, which he soon reached, but at the expense of much pain and suffering from his wounded hands; and leaving them there he climbed up the cliff, hur- ried to the light house, where he was met by the girl and four stran e men, but who quickly followed him to the boa and aided him to carry the two lifeless bodies to the tower, where the girl was taken charge of by Carrie, being placed on the loun e in the lantern, while the men at- tended to alter; all doing their work so well that in a few moments both were completely restored, when they all assembled in the lantern, where Langley, oblivious of the surrounding persons, caught Irene in his arms, and kissed and thanked her a thousand times, while she did not seem to object a particle. But suddenly Carrie Homer, looking about, cried in aifright: “ Where is the child? “ She followed me down-stairs,,but in the con- flusic’in of your arrival, I, for an instant, forgot er And she hurried down the steps. only to find no trace of Lillian, while the empty stemmem showed that the wrecker had also escaped! CIIAPT'EP. XVIII. none in we anus. Winn the collision occurred, George Edger- ton was in the pilot - house, talking with the man at the wheel, who was relating to him some of these sea yarns for which sailors are noted, and when the crash came was knocked violently down, his head striking against the sides of the house, rendering him, for the mo— ment, unconscious of wha was happening, while the old sailor flew head-first out of the window in front and was drawn down by the suction of the tug as she sunk,- while the pilot- house, loouned by the shock, floated off as the hull went down, and drifted away from the scene with Edgerton inside. In a short time he recovered consciousness, and instantly recalled what had happened, but saw that he was, for the present a cast, safe and almost unharmed, so, climbing out of the opening through which the steersman had plunged, he uickly clambered onto the roof, where he phi esophically stretched himself at full length, lying on his back, and, taking a cigar from his pocket, begjin to smoke, as coolly as if seated in a room at is club, wrapping his overcoat closely about him and feeling entirely comfortable, for not a drop of water had en- tered the ilot-house, and he was not wot in the all htest egree. almly gazing at the fire which blazed high on the bluff above him, he fell to thinking, and his thoughts natural] reverted to Walter; yet, strange to say, he di not .worry about him, be- ing a fatalist, and believmg that a man who had escaped toe bullets from the pistols held by two expert marksmen could not die the same day from the effects of a collision, and, know- ing that his partner was an expert swimmer, and seated in the bow of the boat would have time to spring overboard, and in all probability reach the shore, dismiss the matter from his mind with a muttered reflection that was per- fectl characteristic of the man: “ ucky I didn’t have to juui overboard; my knowledge of the natatoria art is just sufficient to take me to the bottom like a stone." And as he laughed to himself, the cigar was thrown into the water, and, finding that there was a ledge around the edge of the roof, which would prevent his rolling off, he turned over on his side dud incontinently dropped ofl.’ into a ro- found sleep, while he, lying in a constrain po- sition as he was, snared and choked and grunt- ed, until it seemed as if a whole drove of sea- lions were enjoying a siesta in the neighbor hood. And he thus drifted on until he arrived at a point 0 posite to where Luke had been landed y the ndian maiden and near by which place was the entrance to the wreckers’ cave, while a sentinel, hidden in the heavy growth of bushes that grew in wild rofusion along the banks, was kept continual y on watch, and hearing the unusual sound which came to him over the waters, peered out through the bushes and saw the pilOt-house floating by, with a human figure stretched .out on the roof, and sleeping ' soundly. Signaling to others of the band who were in- side, they quickly joined him, when the man on guard pointed out to them the floating objects, and as all was fish that came to their net, they ' leaped into a row-boat lying near and pulled toward Edgerti 11, who lay unconscious of this approaching danger and powerless to ward it ofl.’ had he known of it: and, drawing alongside, ‘- they made fast to the floating house, and turn- ing toward the shore, began to tow the wreck toward the land, and soon grounded it in shal- low water. The sudden shock awakened George, and he lazily sat up thinking that his raft—if the term ma be used in this connection—had grounded an that he would be able to reach the shore without difficult ; but he was quickly undo- ceived as a pisto was unceremoniously thrust into his face, and three or four men surround- ed and quickly bound him, while George mur- mured to himself, as if with an intense appre- ciation of the occurrences: “ Hum! First shipwrecked, then captured by bandits! “If this keeps on I’ll be in a first-class po- sition to write a sensational novel. “ It would take with the more romantic r- tion of the fair sex, although if they were are they would not find it so exciting as to read of it; for a more villainous set of cut-throats I never came in contact with.” “ Where did you come from?” demanded one of the wreckers, interrupting his train of thou hts. “ ew York,” calmly returned Edgerton, stifling a mighty yawn. “ What! on that?” pointing to the pilot-house. “ Precisely; it is an invention that I have just perfected, combining a raft and state-room; but the only defect is its , and if the winds and tides are contrary it is dificult to arrive at your destination. “ The thing will drift-could you suggest—” “Enough of this,” steme interrupted the leader, who realized by this time that Edger- ton was quizzing him; “ we will see if the cap— tain cannot find some way of forcing you to an- swer. “ Blindfold him men, and follow I” When the handkerchief was taken from his eyes Edgerton found himself in a small, rock- walled room, barely ten feet square, which was lighted by a lantern hanging from a massive steel chain that ran through a pulley which was su nded from the center of the vaulted ceil- ing, while from this pulley the chain ran down and was fastened to a hook sunk into the wall at one side. Seated on a three-legged stool, nearly oppo- site the door by which they had entered, was a man whom George supposed to be the chief of the gang, as the others addressed him as “ Cap- tain,” and treated him with a certain deference which was wanting in their intercourse with each other. Busily engaged in conversation as he was with two low- rowed, brutal-looking ruflians. he waved the new-comers into silence, while he listened eagerly to what was being said, and thus George stood for a full half-hour, boiling with impatience until finally the chief arose, taking a pack e of papers from one of the men with whom he been talking, and saying: “Then, in the future you are with us, and the hounds of the law will nevor find on. “ You shall have what I promi on for these,” designating the roll of papers e held, “ as soon as finish with this gentleman,” point- ing to George as he s ke. “ And now you wi take the oath, and be in- itiated into the mysteries of the cave, which is our dwelling-place, and remember we hesitate not ° but we punish treachery with death! “ stray us, and wherever on may be—on trackless plain or in pathless orest—mid Arc- tic snows or torrid heat—on mountain or in val- ley—on sea or on laud—waking or sleeping—the knife of our messenger will surely find you and you will die a traitor’s death ! “ Do you understand and do you accept!” “ We understand and we accept.” “ Then so be it.” In response to a bell which he pulled, a mes- senger instantly apgeared and, receiving his in- structions, led the we recruits away to be re- ceived as members of the band, while the leader, turning to Edgerton, said: , “ Well, sir, what do you here?” “ Nothing.”imperturbably returned George. “ What brought you here?” “ Your fellow-bandits.” 4<.l‘ . 14: Luke, the Life-Saver. “ Have a care, sir. I hold the power of life and death here, in this cave l” “ Hold it tight; it might get away 1” “ No more insolencel Who are you?” “I am, sir, that much-maligned individual, the W'andering Jew, and I beg of you to let me continue my wanderings.” “ Hal you mock me; we will soon see what (‘iYect a little discipline will have on you; for h .‘ Mephistophelesl my patron saint, I will Loving you by the heels to yonder pulley, if in three minutes you do not divulge who you are? " And by the blue vault that shines above earth and sea I defy you, and dare you do your worst, Roy F ” In an instant the hand of the wrecker chief- tain was on his mouth, and the words were choked back into his throat, and in an instant be was doubly gagged, a rope was bound around his ankles, and the lamp being lowered, the chain was fastened to his feet, and he was drawn up to the roof, where he swung head downward, his hands being unbound, hangin to the floor, which his fingertips just touchedg, and the blood began to rush to his brain, and his eyeballs to start from their sockets. CHAPTER XIX. RECOGNITION. THE search for the child was continued with- out any favorable result, and they were forced to relinquish their efforts without fliidin the slightest trace of the missing Lillian, ing driven to the conclusion that the wrecker who had escaped had succeeded in abducting her, an! they all returned to the lantern, where the old sailor related how he and two of his sons had covered themselves with white wrappings, made of the curtains which were used in the lantern when the summer sun sentits fierce rays herptiin down upon the glass that inclossd it, W l 3 skurrying crowd as they fled in every direction; and the girl,explaining that, hearing no fur- ther attempts to force the upper door, she had cautiously opened it an inch or two, and that the dense clouds of smoke which poured in had driven her out onto the balcony, while she ’ realized that some one must have come to her rescue and smoked the wreckers out, like rats i in a hole. “But how did you escape?” she asked, turn- ing to Luke, who, grimy with smoke and cin- ders, and dripping wet, resented a most comi- cal appearance, althoug the fact that he was suffering from burns and bruises removed the ludicrous state of the matter from his friends’ minds. “ By an interposition of Providence. “ W'hen the roof crashed in, I was deliber- ating whether it would not be better to leap into the flames and end my agony at once, but fortunately restrainedmyself and waited. “ When the final crash came, I leaped for the chimney, hoping to be able to hang inside until the smoke had partially cleared away, but the bricks Were so hot that they blistered my hands, and I was forced to release my hold. “ As I slipped through the fine, I ex ted to become jammed before I fell far, and aked to death, but the chimney was an old-fashioned one, and I slipped through without any serious mags. “ But when I thought I was at the bottom, a yawnin gulf seemed to open below me, and I dro down—it seemed hundreds of feet—un- til suddenl sunk to my waist in a cold mass of water an ashes which received me as gently as would have a bed of down.” “ There is an abandoned cistern there,” inter- rupted the girl, “ and the ashes from the grates wereallowed to fall into it through holes pierced . under each grate to the chimney.” “That ex lains the matter then,” continued thebo . “ waited for some ime, when finally the ch mney fell over, having been built on a wooden foundation, and I then saw the moon- light shining not far above my head. “ With much difficulty I succeeded in climb- ing out and, peering over the ed a as best I could—for the heat was terrible— conceived the idea of lwithing the wreckers, whom I saw goin towa the tower, at fright. “ therefore picked up two blazing ieces of timber and rushed for them just after hey had been confronted by our friends here and they, doubtless thinking that his Satanic Majesty was after them could not run fast enough. And again the boy laughed at the recollection. In the mean time Walter was sitting on the lounge, his head bent forward and resting on his knees, while he seemed oblivious of all the surroundings, as indeed he was. He had a terrible task before him—the task of acquainting Irene with her father’s terrible fate, for that it was unknown to her was evi- dent from her gay and happy manner, as she . sat by him, joyous at the thought of being with the man she loved, and in the thought that she, a frail girl, had sated his life. For had she not gone to his rescue he must un- doubtedly héve perished from exposure,vbeing unable to call for help, or assist himself in the slightest degree. What is it, Walter?” she whispered, shyly, e laughed at the recollection of the , a for she was a modest, timid, bashful girl, and was not yet at ease in the presence of her lover. “ Lillian. I have much to tell on, and Heaven knows it Will be terribly bar for me tothus grieve you; but, my child. you must nerve yourself for the terrible shock. for you will need all your fortitude to bear up under the blow.” “ 0h, Walter! what is it?" In obedience to a Sign from Mrs. Harcourt, the rest of. the party left the lantern and went Gilt onto the balcony,'leaving Langley and Irene a one. Seatin the girl in a chair, Langley, pacing up and own the confined limits of the lantern, began his words, which were of such terrible importance to Irene: “ W hen I returned from Philadelphia on the day before yesterday, I learned for the first time that another dark mystery had overshadow New York—the mystery of a murder! “Of the assassins there was no clew; but the victim was well-known and highly respected.” The girl sat unconscious of how nearly his words concerned her, and wondering where all this relude tended. “ e was alone in his house-—his house which —prepare gourself, my child,” as he knelt at her feet an taking both her hands, gazed ity- inglyvin her face, while she began to tremb e. “ hich was situated on one of the most fash- ionable thoroughfares in the city; on Fifth ave- nue, Madison Square 1" “ 0h, Walter! Not my father!” “ It was our father, Irene!” “ My fat or dead—murdered l" “Stabbed to death in the dark from behind by a cowardly assassin.” “ Murdered 1 dead i” she shrieked. “ Oh, father! father! alone, while 1— Oh!” and she sunk into the outstretched arms of her lover, who tenderly laid her on the couch, and hurriedly called for help, when Mrs. Harcourt and Carrie Homer rushed into the room and be- gan to minister to her, while the six men left the lantern and proceeded down the winding stairs, Walter stepping a moment to reply to a question from Irene’s aunt. “ What have you said to her?” “ l have told her that her father is dead.” " Dead 1” “ Yes; murdered in his library on the morn- ing that you sailed.” “ My brother murdered?” “. Stabbed to death by burglars.” “ Oh, my poor child, now you are indeed alone!” _ And bursting into a flood of tears, the brave old lady continued to bathe Ireue’s brow, while Walter Langley, closing the door softly, rejoined the others who were below. In a few words he informed them of the fear- f ul message he had brought, and, amid expres— sions of sympathy from all, followed them to a point a little distance from the tower, where, concealed by a slight rise in the ground, lay the bodies of the suffocated wreckers, lying in dis- torted attitudes that betokened the agony they had undergbne before death had come to their ‘ relief. As he came in sight of the bodies Luke bent over them, and, as be scanned their features, suddenly started back with a cry of surprise, as he traced in the lineaments of one of the bodies features which seemed familiar to him; at the were so blackened by the smoke that had an ocated him that fora few moments he was in doubt; but with a repugnance he could not overcome he wi d the face of the dead man until he could distinguish it perfectly, and satisfyiieig himself that he was not mistaken, he turn to the others who were watching him in astonishment. “ That man has been my shadow ever since I can recall anything. “He was the first rson whom I ever knew, whenamere childI ound myself on an out- ward-bound vessel in his arms. “ I recall indistinctly awakening from a long slee , and prior to that can recollect nothing. “ ’ince then, whereer have been, he was never far from my side; claiming that he was my brother, and advisingjand counseling me. ‘ At school abroad he ved in the same town; when my love for the sea induced me to ship for China, he obtained a berth on the same ves- sel, and always after that exerted himself to procure me a lace on board a ood vessel, un- til, reaching alifax, he oppose: my sailing for New York, and I did as he advised. “ SO persistent was he in keeping me awe, from the United States that at last in susp - cions were aroused, and I determined come here despite his opposition and endeavor tesolve the mystery of my birth. for he always turned the conversation when I approached that sub- ject, telling me that I had better rest content and not probe the question too deeply, for the . history was one of sin and shame. “ We went by the name. of Leighton, and Luke Leighton is the only name I know. “ I .will give him a decent grave—the others we Willthrow into the seal” And in a few moments the four bodies drifted oil. on the outgoing tide, while the body of Ira Lenghton, as the boy called him, was buried near the spot where 1ay,the:three lighthouse-keepers, and a stone was placed at the head of the grave to mark his resting-place. And the little party then returned to the tower and waited for a notification from above that they might ascend. CHAPTER XX. BURIED ALIVE. As Edgerton sh ung into the air, Captain Wrake, wno had left the chamber for a moment, returned and gazed at the suspended man with fiendish satisfaction; but, as the poor fellow hung head downward, a newspaper which was folded in the breast—pocket of his coat fell out and fluttered to the ground, and lay open almost at the wrecker’s feet, and, as he glanced at it mechanically, some words, printed in lar e, bold-faced type, caught his eye, and in an in- stant he had caught it from the ground, while he called out: “ Lower that man, instantly 1” And as Edgerton was released from his bonds, Wrake read eagerly the article which had at- tracted his attention, and which seemed to be of deep interest to him. It was thus written: “ THE FAULCONER MURDER. no (:st To run as ASSINS. BURGLARS BELIEVED TO HAVE DONE THE DASTARDLY DEED. “ Despite the untiriug efforts of the dot es no clew has yet been obtained of the assa of Mr. Lucius Faulconer, who was found murdered in his palatial residence, on Madison bquare, yesterday morning A thorough examination of the premises reveals the fact that entrance was gained through a window in the basement, and that robbe ry was the motive. for a large sum of money had disappeared from the sale, Mr. Henry N. Wilson, Mr. Faulconer's attorney, havirg deposed that the latter had re- ceived severalthousand dollars the day before from the sale of some property, and had taken the amount home with him, intending to use it for some pur can with which be, Mr. Wilson, was unac- qua nted. “ The detectives have theories, and the fact that two well-known cracksmen havo disappeared from their usual haunts gives rise to theidea that they are the probable culprits. Telegraphic descriptions of the two men were sent in evsry direction this morning and it is believed that they will soon he capmred’ and brought back to the city. "In the mean time th .- entire force is on the alert, and no stone. will be left unturned to bring the red- hauded murderers to the bar of justice. where it is to be hoped that speedy punishment will be meted out to them." , The paper fell from the hand of the wrecker captain, and he s for a moment in deep thought; then, turnin to Edgerton, who leaned coolly against the w with folded arms, he asked him, abruptly: “ Do you know this—this man Faulconer?” “ My former antecedents and acquaintance can be of no interest to you; but as I under- stand your motive, I will tell you that I did know the gentleman towhom you refer—he was my uncle.’ ‘ And this is true!” “ What?” “ This reference to this—murder.” The word came hissing through his teeth, and his lips were ashen in hue,wh 0 he shook like an aspen; but recovering himself bya mighty effort, be waved to the two men who belon to his band to leave them, and. they hav 3 left the room, he turned to Edgerton for his an- swer: / “ It is true,” replied the oungiman, simply. “ You were in the city a the mei’ H I was.” “ And visited the house!” “ And visited the house.” “ And you saw the—" “ I saw the corpse, ‘ Captain Wrake!’ ” thun- dered Edgerton, as he stepped forward, while the wrecker crouched and shrunk before the towering form. - “And I saw the ghastly wound in hisback where the steel of the assassin had sunk deep in— to the flesh, matching away his life like a thief i in the night! “ I saw the dark stain which dyed his coat, the chair, the desk, the carpet with its crimson hues, and which can no more bewashed from those articles than it can be scoured from the red hands of the murderer! “ And I saw the cold, pale face, the gray hair clotted with his ore, and I thought I would rather that my orehead were as waxen pale than bear upon it the brand of Cain l” “ Enough l” blurted the wrecker chief. “ Without there 1" And as the two men returned, he spoke to them: “ Gag and bind that man and take him to the . main hall, and there await my coming. “ You know too much,my brawny friend, and we will tie your tongue so firmly that you ‘ never can divulge your knowledge. ’ : And as George Edgerton was led from the reom, he took the newspaper, and holding it to i the lamp which stood in one corner. ' watched it burn until nothing but the ashes re- mained. i He then followed the others, anrg‘proceedint. along a narrow passage soon ente the main- F'- ,. ! l i J i Luke»__the LEG-Saves 15 hall, where most of the wreckers were assembled a pistol to your head and ending your life at . and to which the prisoner had already been , once;but the laws of ourband are inviolate, and brought. Seating himself in his accustomed place, while the band gathered in a semicircle in front of him, he addressed them: “ Men, this person here,” designating George , as he spoke, “ has confessed that he came hither as a spy. “ 6 belongs, by his own acknowledgment, to the service of the United States, particularly to the customs department, and, having obtained a l l i what the majority says rules. “ They say that on shall starve to death, and the sentence shall e executed; but to-night at least you shall not suffer, for I would prolong your agony. “ Here,”-—‘taking a hu 6 loaf from under the cloak he wore—“ is bre ; the water in the cor— ner of the cell is palatable. “ Good—night, and pleasant dreams!” And with a mockin laugh the wrecker took clew to our whereabouts, thought to obtain re- 1 the torch in his hand, eft the cell, and shut the ward and promotion by becoming one of our band and then betraying us. “ What shall be his fate?” “ Death I” cried the band, as one man. “ And by what means?” “Hang him 1” “Shoot the dog!” “ Drown himl’ “ Roast him before a slow fire I” “ Starve him to death l" came a louder cry than all the rest as the members of the band ceased their clamors. “ Yes, yes, that is it; starve himto death in the lower pit and let his fate be a warning to 1‘ l1 ‘ an astonishing rate of speed; so that she was all others w traitor.” And the fiendish proposal found immediate favor with the bloodthirsty wretches, who danced about madly. ” Well, then, so be it,” returned the captain; “but fall back, all of you, and stand out of hearing distance. I wish to ask him one more question before he is taken away.” 0 would act the spy and the door behind him, crying: it Onn r? Edger-ton was in darkness as deep as' that of the tom-h, v ml no possible chance of escape sug- gested itself. CHAPTER XXI. H. ll) THEY waited thus for some time until the afternoon sun had long passed the meridian, when they saw rapidly steaming toward them from the west, a small, low lack steamer, which plowed her way through the waters at site the cove, where there was a jin- gli o bells, her machinery was stopped, and shenfay to, gently heaving on the scarcely per- ce tible waves. ghe was a revenue-cutter, as could be readily soon op ‘ told by the flag of that branch which fluttered And then,leaning forward, he w‘i y roll a 7 question in the ear of the prisoner; hug the lat- ter being gagged was unable to answi-r, and the wrecker was about to remove tho bandage from his mouth, when be reflected that Edgerton ‘ might betray to the hand scinething of what he knew if allowed to speak, so uutying one of his , hands he gave him a pencil and held the blank page of a book so that he could write, and, in ‘ answer to the question he had put to the prison- er, the following sentence was written, at the sight of which the wrecker’s face glowed with exultation, while his entire bearing gave u itness to the satisfaction he experienced in reading the : 1 and folIOWed by four of the crew, climbed up ‘ the steep path and came toward the light- hastily—written words: “Irene Faulconer was wrecked at sea on the same day that her father was killed. She is undouoted- ly dead 1“ In an instant the arm was tightly drawn be hind his back again, and Wrake, calling two of his men, and bidding one of them provide him— self with a torch, the three left the cavern and entered a long,vaulted corridor which led out to one side and which descended rapidly, being so narrow that they could not walk abreast, but 5 were compelled to advance single file, the torch- ‘ bearer preceding Edgerton, and the others fol- lowing im. They continued to march thus for some time, the path getting steeper and steeper, until they arrived at the end of the passage, where there was a stout door so skillfully painted as to re- semble the rock, and so discolored by the stains énade by the water as it trickled down its face, hat it could seems be distinguished from the natural walls; but the man in front, who was evidently familiar with the den, found and turn- ed the handle, which was made to resemble a ms 11 projection of the rock, without difficult , and, opening the masked door, disclosed a dark, noisome cell, which was not more than seven feet in length, nor four in width, and which contained not a single article of any description, if two rusty chains fastened to iron stap es let into the rock be excepted. And into this cell George was pushed, his heart failing him as he surveyed the circum- scribed walls, and he turned to the men to see if he could discover one ray of hope; but the damp rock was not more hard or set than were their faces, and he gave himself up for lost. The rings on the chains were clasped around his wrists being fastened by a steel spring which held them firmly in the I place, the ban- dages were cast from his arms, and then order- ing the two men to return to the main hall, and waiting until their footsteps died away in the distance, Captain Wrake placing the torch in a cranes in the flobr, closed the dam behind him as he stood twins the prisoner as a further pre- caution, and then spoke to Edgerton: “ You are doubtless aware that you have no hope now on earth and that you will die a lin- geriisif death. “ on said a moment ago that on knew me; if you do, and I do not doubt it, or ears have not altered me much—you understan the reason of this actiontfor I have sworn that your whole race shall perish from off the face of the earth. and would soon have found you in New York had on not found me. p “ did not seek yousooner, for Ineeoedmeans to carry out my projects, and of these L am now am‘ply possessed. ‘ The work I have to perform is not great, for chance and fate have aided in rendering my task ' easier, and I shall soon accomplish it. “ You are left here to die. ,I 1,. l “3 could mitigate your sufferings by placing to my niece, Miss Faulconer, and also to Miss at her mainmast, she being schooner-rigged, as well as by the uniformed officers and men that were engaged about her decks. As she came to a stand-still she fired a gun to attract the attention of those on shore, while at the same moment a boat shot out from under her stern having been lowered to leeward, what wind there was being off-shore, and pulled in the direction of the shore, an officer with gold- laced cap sitting in the stern-sheets and holding the tiller-ropes. As they drew near the beach the prow swung sharply around, and in obedience to two orders quic ly given, the oarsmen stopped rowin and began to “ back water,” thus bringing the oat, stern on, to shore, when the oflir-er leaped out, house, while Walter and Luke advanced to meet them, lifting their hats as they came With- inlsoeaking dissance, in response to his courteous su ute. “ Information was brought to New London this morning, gentlemen,’ began the officer, “ by a coasting schooner, to the effect that there had been trouble here, and that the keepers have been foully dealt with—in fact, murdered. “ Can you tell me anything regarding the matter?” “ It is as you say, sir,” returned Luke, who, having been present durin the affair, naturally e the spokesman of t e party, and be pro— ceeded to relate the incidentsas they had , keeping his own share in the background as much as he could. When he had finished, the officer again spoke: “ This is indeed a serious aflair, and one that deserves immediate attention. “Unfortunately, I am so situated that I can render but small service, and must receive full instructions from headquarters before I can act as I would desire. “ Can I see the ladies?” “ Most assuredly, sir,” answered Walter, who felt that this was a question that concerned him. “If you will kindly await in return, I Will inform them of your wish " an leaving the lit- tle group, he hastened to the lantern. Knocking on the door he entered in obedience to a entle ‘ Come in i” from the other side, and foun Irene much calmer, but with her eyes and face vi evidence of a violent storm of weeping; ut s e extended her hand to him, and he, taking it and pressin it warmly, whispered a few words of cheer an consolation toher, and then turned to Mrs. Harcourt. “ The revenue-cutter ‘Hornet’ has arrived, in response to the message I sent to New Lon- don and her commander would be glad to see the ladies. , “ Will you receive him here, or will you de- scend and meet him below?” “ Ask him to come up at once,” with a glance at the two girls, who silently bowed acquies- cence. “ We will be lad to see him and to thank him for his kin ness in responding so prompt- ] I, In a few moments Walter returned, ushering in the officer who stood, cap in hand, the beau ideal of a llant sailor. “ Mrs. brcourt,” Walter, “ allow me to present to you”—an he hesitated for an in- stant. “Lieutenant Murray, madaqe,” added the new arrival, bowing low. “ Lieutenant,” began the old lady, “ you have our kindest thanks, mine, and I am sure, my niece’s. ‘Lieutenant Murray, let me introduce you Homer, the daughter of the keeper who was so foullIy dealt with.” _V . “ ladies, my only regret is that l arrive so late; allow me to express my sorrow for what has passed and the belief that your troubles are now over. “ Owing to reasons which I cannot explain, I can only leave six men with you; but they will serve to defend the light-house against an fur— ther attacks, and as soon as I can do so will inform the department of these occurrences, and would ask that you mention them to no one, should there be any visitors to this portion of the Sound. “ It is always best to keep these matters secret until action can be taken, in order that our ad- versaries may not be informed of our projected movements. “ I warned the captain and crew of the coaster. and they promised strict compliance with my wishes. “The men whom I will leave will require ' shelter; where can they find it?” he continued, turning to the daughter of the former light- house-keeper. “ The vestibule below will accommodate them if the have beds.” ” T ey will bring their hammocks, which they can easily sling; and I will send a quan— tity of provisions ashore, as I imagine that you are short of rations.” “ Everything we had was burned up with the house; but, fortunately, I had brought some food here,” pointing to the basket, which was only half empty. ‘ And now. ladies, have you any further commands l for I must hasten my return, as I risk my commission every minute that I delay.” “ One moment, lieutenant, if you please,” in— terposed Mrs. Harcourt; “ there is something you can do for us. “ My brother—Irene, Miss Faulconer’s, father ——we have just learned, was murdered in New York on the morning that we sailed in the Cir- cassian. “ We are very anxious to reach the city. “ Can you not take us to New London, whence we can proceed by rail? “ You would add much toour indebtedness to you and—” “ IThe Hornet, and such poor accommo— dations as she possesses, are yours, madam, and I am only too glad to be able to offer them to you. “ Will you soon be ready?” “ In ten minutes.” “ Then I will return to the Hornet, and send the men and provisions ashore, when you can. come aboard. ’ “ Can I, too, ask if you will furnish me transportation, also, lieutenant?” asked Wal- r. “ Certainly, sir, certainly; you can escort the ladies to the vessel.” Ina moment more he had disappeared, and Mrs. Harcourt, Irene and Carrie ha exchanged farewells, the latter promising to visit them in New York as soon as was practicable, and shak— ing hands with Walter, she told them all good- by, when they departed, leaving her alone. Below they found the old sailor and his sons, who were about to leave, and abundant were the ifts that were forced on them, when they also eft, and enteri their boat, were soon far out at sea, the wind ing favorible and their sail being set. - Finally the soldiers were landed, and the two ladies, proceeding to the beach. entered the row- boat and started for the vemel, after thanking Luke again and again, he determining to re- main for a time at Bell Point, in case of any new events; but promising to see them a sin in the near future, and assuring Walter t t he would endeav0r to find some trace of George Edgerton'the next day. Getting into the small row-boat which Carrie used, he rowed alongside of the others until they reached the cutter. and then lay on his oars watching the vessel until she was nearly out o sight for evening was coming on, and it would soon dark. As the Hornet steamed 011', the commanding officer called all of the crew aft, and spoke to t em. “ My lads,” said he, “ I want to say just a few words. This trip must be known to no one; the ends of justice would be defeated were it known. “ Have I your promise?” “ Ay, ay, sirl” was the hearty response from- each and every one. “ Thank you. I know that I can trust you; I for ntruer set of men never trod the decks of ship. That is all.” ‘ Three cheers for Lieutenant Murray l" shouted some hardy spirit, and they were given with a will, when the crew dispersed about the» deck, attending to their duties Luke lay on his oars as the darkness settled down ovar the sea, thinking of those who had one, with a sigh of regret that his life had not.- can cast in their sphere, when he was aroused from his reflections by a shock which nearly overturned the frail craft in which he sat, and in a moment hewas seized by half a dozen rough . ‘1. .....i i ael who paced ack and forward in front of the l entrance to the tower, dayand night, invariably ‘ presented arms when she passed out during the 16 Luke, the Life-Saver. hands, dragged into the larger craft, which had run him down, and stretched in the bottom of i the boat, while in the dark face of one of his , ' assailants he recognized the features of Captain 3 Wrake' But as he fell he writhed like an eel from the 5 hands of the wreckers, sprung to his feet, and Q showered a half-dozen blows full in their faces 1 before they could defend themselves. ‘ But the hand of the chief of the band was i raised and descended like a flash, and the short i cudgel he held fell on Luke‘s head with crushing force, knocking him insensible into the sea, while the chief cried: “ Two!” as the water ingulfed the body. CHAPTER XXII. TEE WOLF IN snanr’s CLOTHING. TH]: Hornet steamed steadily on, and in not many hours arrived at New London, and sailing up the Thames River, cast anchor near the city, while the three passengers, unable to rest quiet- ly on board through anxiety, entered one of the boats and were soon set ashore; but as Lieuten- ant Murray, who had been assisting Irene to climb the somewhat steep steps which led up to the pier, was descendin , his foot slipped on the ice which covered the p anks, and he fell head- long into the boat below, before he could catch himself, and striking the thwart was severely cut about the forehead, and lay, breathing ster- torously, in the bottom of the yawl, from whence he was picked up by the crew, who idol- ized their young commander, and carefully laced in the stern-sheets when they pulled ack to the cutter, Mrs. I-iarcourt, Irene and Langley roceeding up the pier, unconscious of the acci ent, they having thanked the officer and made their adieux to him and left him standing there watching them as they disap- peared in the darkness, while he sighed heavily wondeiing if he would ever see the lovely girl am. When they reached the boat, the falls were hooked on and the boat swung up on the davits, when the wounded manwas carried to his cabin, where the shi ’s surgeon examined his condi- tion, and shoo his head solemnly as he found that the blow had resulted in concussion of the brain which would cause grave consequences. And so it proved, for not many hours had passed when the lieutenant was tumbling and tossing in delirium which weakened his rame ‘ with every paroxysm, while he ever seemed to be clutching for and graspigg after some han- ‘tom which ‘continually elud him and which he called after in piercing tones; and the name that was ever on his lips was—Irene] And she, poor child, was tossing in a restless, uneasy slumber which was disturbed by dreams of her father’s frightful end, and in her sleep she saw the tragedy enacted a thousand times and in a thousand different ways, the ending, h0w- ever, being always the same—a sudden, swift stab, a gush of blood, and death! And early the next morning the two ladies and Langley took the train for New York and the lieutenant being seriously wounded an un- conscious. the story of the troubles at Bell~Point was not told, and no relief was sent to the girl, who was thus forced to attend tothe light alone, although the corporal of the marines left by Lieutenant Murray offered his services and those of his men; yet she would not leave her charge, which she considered as a sacred be- quest from her father. The men who were thus left to repel any at- tacks of the wreckers were but six in number, yet they were brave young fellows, and though they knew that the wrec are greatly outnum- bered them they felt no anxiet , and passed most of their days in searching a ut the coast for some sign of the band, but without success asthe entrance through which Luke had passed ’was so skillftu dissimulated beneath an ap parently impenetrable, tan led mass of low- growing trees and bushes t t no trace of it will? be discerne‘d. h 1 th d ey respects t e rivacy o e ' 1 an never ventured into the lantern Whig ’with the aid of sundry conveniences which had been sent on shore from the Bernet, she had succeed- edin making uite comfortable and the senti- afternoon to take some necessary exercise in the way of a brisk walk, so much did the soldiers re- spect her, so much did they sympathize with her in her grief, so much did they respect her for the bravery she had displayed under the trying circumstances of the pa" few days. She could not comprehend Luke’s absence, but consoled herself with the thought that perhaps he had embarked on the cutter, it having been probably thought best that he should go to head- quarters and personally make his report, and i expecting him to return with the men who, she thought, would be appointed to the care of the ‘ light-house. A, And so several days and nights passed, with- out anything happening to disturb the dull mo- 3 notony of the hours. But one evening toward dusk, the corporal a who had charge 0 the little band stepped out of l the tower, saying to the sentinel that he would walk out a short distance and see that every- thing was quiet, and telling the men good-night, as he mi ht be absent for some time, he stepped off brisk y into the fast-disappearing twilight, , and, descending the cliff, iii a few moments was i lost to view, while the darkness came rapidly 1 down over the sea and land, the sky being 1 overcast and no light shining from moon or 3 stars. Reaching the sands which lined the shore, he E walked cautiously on around the cliff, clad in his uniform, and with his blue army coat but. toned lightly around him, for the night air was cold and pi- rcing. And as he walked aloxeig under the shadow of the cliff, his eyes strain to catch sight of the slightest suspicious object, and listening intent- ly for any sound that might betray the presence of an enemly, he passed bya thick cluster of bushes whic clung to the cliiil.I just above him, and when he was just opposite it, two leaping figures sprung u n him, encircling his arms and his body, an placing a hand on his lips so that he could not utter a cry, and in a moment more he was bound and gagged, and lay help- less at his captors’ feet, while they, stoopin , ick‘ed him up by head and shoulders, an hrowing his cape over his head so as to blind him com letely, began their march, and he soon realized rom the hollow, echoin sound of their footsteps, from the dampness o the air, from the dank, earthy smell, that they were travers- ing some subterranean passage, and that he was, in all probability, in the hands of the wreckers. And this conjecture became a certainty when at length his quick} ear caught the hum of voices, which sounded nearer and nearer, until suddenly the cape which covered his face fell away, while he was placed on his feet, and, as- soon as his eyes became accustomed to the glare, he looked aroundand found himself in the midst of a number of men sitting and standing in the center of a vaulted rocky chamber, where Luke had already been confronted by his captors. Captain Wrake occupied his usual seat, and, waving the pressing crowd back, addressed the corporal, who returned glance for glance and scowl for scowl with interest, his gag being re- moved so that he could converse. “What brings you here, sir?” ’2‘ You can answer that question better than i l I. “How do you meant” “That I am here as a prisoner, brought as such by some of your men.’ “ You are stationed at the light-house of Bell- Point, having been landed there by the cutter Hornet. “ How many men have you with you?” “ You seem so well posted re arding my ar- rival that it seems surprising at your spies have not brought you full details.” “ Have a care, sir, and cease your trifling; younare in my power, and I will stand no jest- in ‘ All of which is immaterial to me. Seek your information elsewhere.” And coolly turning his back on the wrecker chief, he began a survey of the apartment. But the eyes of Captain Wrake fairly blazed, and he thundered: _ . “ By the gates of Hades, I will seek it else- where—in your camp! and the clothes—the uni- form you wear, shall give me safe conduct, and be my passgort. Take him in yonder ”——point- ing to an a j \ining apartment—“ and stri him of that blue suit and bring it hither, wit the overcoat and cap. “ And make haste.” In a very short time the two men who had undertaken this mission returned with the arti- cles, taking which, Captain Wrake left the large hall and retired to another room which was reached by a passage which branched ofl laterally. And presently he returned, when a cry of ad- miration and astonishment broke from the lips of all the assistants, for the disguise was almost rfect, the two men being of about the same ei ht and build. rake had donned the uniform of the cap- tured soldier, and shaved off his heavy mus- tache, and with the visor of the ca pulled down over his sages, and the collar of h s coat turned up look like the twin brother of the prisoner. Civing directions relating to the close watch- ing of the corpora] and motiOning to two of his most trusted foilOWers to accompany him, he started for the exit, the gong havin rung out its signal to the Entry, stopping be ore he left the cavern to select a long pieceof rope which was very strong, although exceeding y light, and this he wrap about his body, un- der his outer coat, so t at it was easily carried and yet could not be discovered without a per- sonal search. ' He then left the band, ordering them to await his return, and for all to remain within and not venture near the lighthouso, as any false move might dei'an e his plans, and fo~ lowed by his 0 compa done, was soon in the i open air, wheg he hurriedly whispered his in- t structions to h m, described his Ian, and then left them lying close under the c ifl', just below the light-house, while he, rounding the point, ‘ walked along hurriedly until he was neariy , posite the tower, when he, climbing the c walked, hurriedly yet steadily, toward the fig— ure whom he saw pacing up and down in front of the entrance. - And here his heart failed him for a moment, for he was struck by the thought that there might be a countersign, the non-knowledge of i which would betray him; but it was too late to hesitate now, so he stepped quickly on, prepared t1? spring on the sentry should the latter halt 1m. . But, as his blue uniform was plainly visible in the glare cast by the lantern, the soldier sus- pected nothing and greeted him as be ap- - proached: “ Rather late, Corporal Gray; any news!” His voice muffled so by the cloak which was folded about his threat, that it was unrecog- nizable, he answered, instantly: “ Nothing very important, but I must seeMiss Homer at once.’ And passing by the man, and taking care not to disturb the sleeping soldiers inside, he hastily ascended the steps and knocked on the upper door, when a gentle voice asked: “ Who is there?" “ Corporal Gra , Miss Homer,” responded the wrecker, takin is one from the name given him b the sold or below. “ A , one moment,” replied the irl, and shortly afterward the door was open and the 0 turned and bolted the door, false corporal ste ped in. As he entered, then, springing up the few steps that led into the lantern, he threw back the caps which con- cealed his face, disclosing his features to the astonished girl, while, seizing her about the body he placed his hand over her mouth, and hissed: “ Utter a sound, or attempt to escape, and I rill ,l’iurl you through the sash to the rocks be- owl CHAPTER XXIII. \SILENCING A wrmnss. WHAT they had concluded, was the case, for the man whom the old fisherman and his sons had captured had escaped and gained his free- dom through the aid of Lillian. Left alone in the vestibule for a moment, she had stood there until the sound from the closet attracted her curiosity, and child—like, yet with none of a child’s fear, she had proceeded to gratify it, going to the door of the store-room and pushing it open, and, standing there, tried to discover what was within. “Come in, little one,” came a voice to her, the wrecker modulating his naturally gruff tones, so that the sounded soft and caressing. “ Come in, an see if you cannot untie this cord; for it hurts my arms.” After hesitatin a moment the little girl stole in cautioustlg', an , the man groaning to excite her sympa y, she began to struggle with the tough knots tied by the skillful ngers of the old sailor, and as a mariner’s knots are prover- bially easy to untie, although they never slip, she had soon loosened his wrists, when he per- formed a like oflice for his ankles, and stood erect,da free man, so far as his bonds were con- cerne . Once released he did not hesitate a moment; but seizing the child and stiflin her cries. for she began to cry and call out w en be grasped her roughly, he left the tower and hurried away over the lain, and soon disappeared over the brow of tiie clifl, bearing Lillian in his arms. He was not long in arriving at the tangled mass of shrubhery which marked the entrance to the wreckers’ cave, and nearing the sentinel, {10 called out to him, and was instantly chal- en ed. “ Who is there?” came the hoarse call from the guard, emphasized by a sharp click as his weapon was raised and cocked. “ It’s me, Ransom,” quicklyanswered Lillian’s captor, recognizing the voice of the man who had captured Luke. ' “ An’ who’s me?” growled Ransom. “Black Burt.” “ Oh! Be ye alone?” H No H “Well,” impatiently returned the sentinel, “ who’s with ye?” “ The kid.’ “ What kid i” “ The girl that the Indian carried 03.” “ Oh, he! Then come 0n, and hurry up. It’s amazin’ glad ther Cap ’11 be ter see ye. “ He’s been a’most crazy sence ther youngster war carted off by the red-skin. “ Whar did ye capter her?” “ Tell ye later,” and the man who called him- self Burt Black, but whom his comrades had facetiously dubbed Black Burt, strode past, and, being identified by Ransom, plunged into the darkness of the passageway which led to the main cavern, and, avoiding the trap which had proven so fatal to Winnemuka, hurried along through the rock-hewn corridor, until he reached the main hall where the band was gathered, listening to the distorted tales of the wreckers who had been frightened well-nigh ‘- 17 Luke, the Life-Saver. r" into insanity by the ghostly apparitions they had witnessed emerging from the fire and from the burning building. But as he entered the voices of all were based and the eyes of the band were turned upon him, while the captain, leaping to his feet with an exclamation of delight as Black Burt held out the child, cried to him: “Well done, Burt! Ask what reward you will and on my word you shall have it. I would rather have yonder brat in my power than all of these treasures,” with a circular sweep of his hand. “She out of my clutches and all my plans would come to nau ht; but now——” and he glared at the shrinking infant, as if he would rain her on the spot. But as the innocent little child shrunk back in alfright before the demoniac glare of his baleful eyes, and uttered a low wail of terror the young wife of the captain, her heart touched by this appeal which could not fail to find an ansWering chord in every woman’s breast, sprung forward, crying: “For shame, Boy, you shall not terrify this daint child! “ I prisoner she must remain, it shall be un- der my care; but she shall not be injured or worried or frightened. “ Come, my little get, and we will leave this room, and you shall ave something nice to eat and a good long sleep, for you are tU'ed.” The soft, gentle tones reassured the little girl, and taking the hand of her companion she fol- lowed her out of the cabin, while W’rake,al- ready ashamed of his outburst, paiticularly so as it had been directed a net so inoffensive a creature, smiled lazily an then said: “ Very well, Carita; only be careful she does not escape, for you well now what hinges on her remaining undiscovered.” Then as the curtain fell behind the twore- treating figures he gave a few orders to the band, spoke a few cuttin , sarcastic sentences ,to those who, he said, he been frightened at their own shadows and then, calling to two men who were standing aloof from the others as though they were new arrivals and compara- tive strangers, he left the reom, and followed by the two men he had sin led out, entered a small square room, where e seated himself while through adoor which was but half covered b the ly-drawn curtain, could be seen ita, oldin Lillian on her lap and listening with a sad sm e to her childish rattle; for the child was wide awake, and had me instant- ly attached to the woman, who caressed her and who seemed so different from the young lieutenant who had attacked Luke. The wrecker captain, after leoking at the up for a few moments—for it was a Pretty sight Carita having donned a soft, cl nging dressing-robe of some blue material which was most becoming to her, while the magnificence of the furniture and carpets and other sur- roundings which adorned this, her private room, madea fit setting for the two jewels in , the center—turned to the two men and spoke to them in a low tone, they standing respectfully before him. “You have thoroughly won the reward I promised you the night I met you and that, with what you found in the safe, will enable you to liVe comfortably for many years. “I would advise you to select some foreign countryhand, arriving there, remain for some time until this affair has blown over. “It wnll not be very lon ; mysterious mur- ders in New York are soon orgotten. “ You are sure you left no clew?” “ None at all, captain. “ But we are pretty well known in the city” ' —with a certain sort of ride at the recollection that he was a prominen character—“and they will miss us. “Two and two make four; a disappearance ~ and a ‘mysterious murder’ can enerally be 3 connected, especially when the m ng ones are ' suspected of having been connected with other ‘ litt e matters of the same nature.” “Very true; and if you leave the country ' Ron must do so secretly, or the policewill be .. Jown on you. “ Have you consulted and decided regarding what you prefer to do?” “ Well, captain,” returned the former spokes- ’ mu. “38 you say, we willhave to be a little . long about etting awa ,and we have deter- minedtoas you to owustoreinainhere ‘ for‘ a‘I time. ‘ ‘ i 0 one will suspect us of being here and _‘ after awhile, when things are a little quieter, we can leave the country.” 2: No; you cannot remain here. It would be dangerous for all of us, and you must leave in the morning—now in fact." “ It strikes me, ca tain, that you are anxious to get rid of us and ope to see us hanged, for it is ten to one that we would be captured if we were seen. Our description has probably been telegraphed all over the country before “And if we were captured, and if our necks were danger, why—well, on know that a secret is often worth more i an a man’s life, and we might tell a very pretty little romance about the connection between a certain ‘mys— terious murder ’ anchme Captain Wrake I" And the villain, whose occupation could not have been detected from either speech, manner or bearing, turned to his companion with a— “ Ain’t that so, Harry 1” . “Right you are, old boy,”acquiesced f‘Har- ry,” “and the captain’ll soon see that it is best for him not to ride rust .” “ What i" thundered rake. “ You dare threaten me I” And in a moment the two wreckers were roll- ing on the floor, bathed in their own gore, as a long, wicked-looking knife flashed in the lamp- light and buried itself first in the heart of one and then of the other. And as the child, whose attention was at- tracted b the uplifted tones, strug led to the earth an stared at the scene with error-fas- cinated eyes, Wrake, step inglto the side of the cavern opposite the oor throu h which she looked and brushing aside a. iitt e pile of rubbish with his foot, stooped, lifted a small stone, took a package from his pocket, and laid it away, and then covered up the hiding-place and left the room, drawing the curtain before he went out. And the two murderers lay there where they had expiated their guilt with their own lives, while the lamp burned away, flickered, and fin» ally went out. CHAPTER XXIV. ’rwrxr HEAVEN AND nan’rn. As George Edgerton half-sat, half-reclined in the midst of the thick darkness which encom- him like a pail, his thoughts were ex- cruciating in their agony, for he saw not the faintest pros -t of escape, well knowing that the rock w ls which confined him within their , narr0w ts were not colder nor harder than the heart of the man who held him in his war. His tion resembled nothin so much as that o a mu who, a parent y dead, but bound only n the chains 0 catale , is clad in the cerements of the grave, pla n the coffin and is interred, the earth and the clods falling on the casket-lid sending ice-cold chills of terror to his soul, while the iron hands of the trance into which he is plunged chokes back the cries of horror which well u in his throat. How long he rema ned in this half-uncon- scious state he never knew; it might be ho , it might be days, for at times he fell into a is— turbed sleep, startiik up at some of the visions which attended his slumbers, only to be re- called to the terrible reality by the rattling and the clanging of the chains which bound him. He ate but nglly husbanding every crumb of the Joel whic Wrake had left him, so that even this miserable existence could be molonged as long as possible, so tenacious of ' e is the average human being even in the midst of the most dismal surroundings and intense suflerings. Fearing that his brain might turn should he brood over his condition, he examined, thor- oughly, every portion of the cell he could reach and, finding four pins in the lapel of his coat, he threw them from him and hours in seeking for them, the floor of t e cell being rough and broken so that the little morsels of wire were often hidden away so that he could scarcely discover their whereabouts; et this simple and almost childish occupation ept his mind occupied and prevented the thought: he would avoid. He had after a long search, just picked u the last of the four pins, and carefully placed it with the others in his coat, intending to sleep for as long a time as he might be able to, when a sound as of iron grating against iron senta thrill through his body. “ They are returning to see if I am dead," he muttered to himself, and then leaning forward gazed in the direction of the door for it seemed to'him that the sight of a human face,the sound of a human voice would drive him almost wild with delirious joy, while he lon ed for a breath of fresh air that in the cell havfiig become fetid and nnwholesome. And as he looked, the door swung o n, and a dim mysterious light stole into the co and illu- minated its every corner. And standing in the 0Fening was a slight fig- ure with bronzed comp exion, and ion black hair, whose hand uplifted, was posed on er lips in token of silence, while she noiselesst stepped forward and with a he she held, unlocked the chains which bound E gerton, and, taking him bg the hand led him out into the corridor, and t en turning‘. she locked the door behind her. George-f0 owed her without hesitation as one walking in his sleep, and as they traversed the corridors which led hither and thither, showing that the earth had been rent and torn in every direction by some mighty convulsion of Nature, he wondered, but in vain, what would be the ending of all this. But finallya fresher breeze struck his face and thev soon emerged into the open air, while not far from them could be heard the aglentle la , lap, lapping of the waves as they pla ed sof y on the beach. The Indian girl led him to a small boat which I lay moored near by, and motioning him to step in, cast of! the ro that held the little craft and seatin herse amidships, took the cars and sent the w erry dancing over the waters, head— in away from the shore and then, after a time, pu ling around the Boint high on which glowed the beacon of Belle- oint Li ht. The had thus rowed in ' ence for some time for a of George‘s attem ts at conversation had met with no response, w en‘he, being seated in the stern of the boat and enabled to see for some distance ahead, saw, floating far of! on the starboard bow, an indistinct object which re- sembled a boat, and, pointing he directed the girl’s attention to it, when she instantly turned the boat in that direction. Increasing the power of her strokes until the little craft fairly leaped over the water, the were soiwn alongside, and looking into the boa , but it was empty. One of the oars lay across the seats, while the other rested in the row—locks, and backing her L craft up against the other, the girl motioned for the youth to get in. and he, after protesting a moment and repeating his thanks a hundred times, finally complied, when the Indian maiden without so much as a glance at him, pulled hastily away. I. For a time he sat watching the pale-blue li ht which seemed to encompass her about li e a cloud, when suddenly it disag and the little boat and its occupant van ed in the darkness. Puzzling his head over this mystery, George- picked up the oarwhich was lying across the sense 2nd settled it in hits phlace in the :(éw-iocllrlsi an t en,graspingt eo er, repar top toward the land and seek she ter at the light- house; bnt to his surprise the larboard oar would not move, and seemed to be held in its gage by some heavy weight attached to the 9. Thinking that it had become entangled in a , mass of floating sea-weed he tried to pull it but with no better succea, and then 1 over the side to look, only to start back with a cry of terror, for his nerves were weakened by thlel terrible experience he had undergone in the co . But nerving himself, he again leaned ovc and looked and saw just beneath him a white face with closed eyes and matted hair lying as still as death, while the body, half-sub lay across the car which the apparently hands were clutching with an iron grip. And at the same moment he saw that it was Luke and bending far over he raised the b0 and lifted him into the boat, and began to chafe- his hands after removing his wet c wraplping him in a huge ulster he were, and whic the wreckers ha left in his poms-ion when he was cast into the cell. After half an hour’s stead work the boy ut- tered a faint sigh and fins yopened hiseyes, when Ed erton taking from his inside pocket the bran y—fiask he carried and which he had not touched, forced some of the liquor down the boy’s throat and then gave him some of the bread which he had laced in his coat aPocket for safer keeping, an Luke ate ravenou Restored by the brandy and the food 0 re- lated how he came there. b Aflter beilnegi sdtligick do? into the e'svaterflulli‘e areyesca. wning utmanag toc - ber into the boat again, but was so weak he could not mans e the cars, and lay half-stunned in the bottom 0 the craft. The wind was off-shore and he drifted far out to sea and was blown about for he knew not how many days, until finally he was again blown back toward the shore, and while en- deavoring to stand up and signal for help had fallen from exhaustion and tumbled overboard, bein saved from drowning only by the death- clutc on the oar his fingers had encountered as he struck the water. Another sup from the flask stmnfilthened him, and so George, taking the cars, p ed away in the direction of the light-house, steering by glass direction for the cove, where they soon Approaching the tower from the side oppo- , site the entrance, they arrived almost at its base when, happening to glance u ward, th stopped, awe-stricken, for, suspen ed in mi - air, with no apparent means of an port and half-way up the tower was a female Egon clad all in white with outstretched han s and a L wealth of yellow hair forming a golden aureole about her head, as she swayed gently to and fro, as if resting on the bosom of the night- wind. And as they gazed, the light in the tower was suddenly extinguighgd and. the hu fi redisapearedas ymagic;w e,as itgvgere a sip al, the two standin there received each acrus ing blow from behin and measured their lengths upon the sward. And at the same moment the lantern biased up again and the white figure descended slowly to earth. CHAPTER XXV. IN ran TOILS. Tm: girl was powerless in the wolfish of the wrecker captain, and dared notstl$~ othing and 1 fl .1 8 1— .b. Luke, the Lifee_$aver. for fear that he might carry out his threat and dash her to the rocks below, so submitted pas- sively to her captor who deftly tied his hand. kerchie 1. over her mouth and tied her hands he- hind ner while he proceeded with his prepara- tions, which were soon completed. Uncoiling from his body the long white cot- ton rope he had brought with him, he took from his waist a stout leather belt and buckling it, mssed it around the girl’s body so that it hung loosely, and then attached the rope to it in front, so that when in the air, the wei ht of her body would be thrown on her bee and shoulders. He then released her hands and removed the gag from her face and thus addressed her: “You know now that I am not Corporal Grew " ho I am does not concern you at present; l at you will soon know, and until then must al— 1- y your curiosity. “ I am now going to lower you from the bal- cony outside to the ground, and in your appar- ently perilous descent you will suffer no harm if you Will act as I decide. “Keep quiet; make no effort to attract at— tention or call for aid and you shall reach the ground in safety. " Make the slightest noise, call out in the faint- est whisper and will icose the rope and let you fall, to be dashed to pieCes; and if, once at the foot of the tower, you endes vet to escape or cry out for help, my men who are below will brain you where you stand, for they have their orders I” The tremblin girl nodded as he paused for a a reply, and, ii ting her sli ht form, he let her gent y over the railing, an , winding the rope, once around the iron bar that formed its top he let her slowly down an inch at a time, hold- ing fast to the rope and paying it out, little by little. And she swungr out from the tower, clad in her dress of creamy hue, while the cotton rope was invisible against the surface of the li ht- hous condition, he addressed him in sne'ering tones: “ You see that you did not remain long away from your future home. “ For until death brings you relief I swear that you shall not leave this place, and when I make an oath it is lnviolable. “ You. of all concerned, except myself, know my secret, and you must be silenced. “ in a short time you will all be here togeth- er, and Captain Wrake will drop his present occupation and name and enter upon the career of luxury and fashion which lie is so eminently ada ted to fill. " on do not ask after your companion; have you ceased to take any interest in him since he can be of no further use to you l’” “The idea is worthy of the brain that con- ceived it; I know that you would lie to me, so see no use in questionin you.” . “ Snarl and growl an s lit, my young tiger— your claws are clipped an words do not wound, or you would kill me where I stand. “ But now I will leave y<.u,for I have business in New York and a fashionable call to make on Fifth avenue, although I do not expect to find man persons at home. “ cod-night, and pleasant dreams!" To this sneerin address Edgerton responded not a word, and rake, closing and locking the door carefully after him, roceeded to the dun- geon where Luke was con ned. “Well, my young sea-serpent, how find you your quarters?” was his greeting. “ Insu portable, since you entered l” “ 0h, 0! Showin your teeth, are you?” “ Then I will play entist and draw them; but not {act yet. “ wish you to have full control of our voice when you assume your part in the ittle domestic drama which I am arran ing. “ Your family history forms the is for the plot, and your friends assume different char- acters in the play. “Pre are yourself, my lad, for the represen- tation or it will in al probability, become a tragedy before it is ended.” And withOut giving Luke time to reply, he clanged the door to after him and de rted, leaving the boy a pre a thousand con ctinig emotions; for he su denly realized that th s man knew who he was and was thoroughly familiar with the histOry of his-—Luke’s-~life, which always had been as a sealed book to him. And the hours passed slowly, broken on] from time to time by the visits of one of h s jailhrs, who supplied him with food and drink. CHAPTER XXVI. annuc'rnn. lawn FAULCONER sat in her lonely home, burdened with the weight of cares which seemed too great for her frail strength to an port, for she was utterly alone in the world, an , save for Walter’s love and care, would have been almost tempted to give up in des ir. Her father dead, her sister’s whereabouts un- , known, her aunt called to the Far West h a sudden and unexpected telegram announc ng the desperate illness of her only child, her 10 was indeed a sad one, and her fortitude was put to the severest tests. Yet she was a brave little girl and st led on. living in the anticipation of the future,w on as Walter’s wife, she would have no more cares, no more troubles, while her joys would be dou- bled and her griefs divided. She had means that were far, far beyond her wants, for her father had left millions, and no will bein discovered, she had, as the apparent] sole surv vor, become the sole inheritor of s vast wealth. Seated in the lor of the house where her father had met 1: a violent death, of the perpe- trators of which not a clew had been discovered, she was thinking of all these thingswhen she was aroused from her reverie by a knock at the door, and, in response to her summons, 'a servant entered, bearing a card on a silver sal- ver, and taking the bit of Easteboard up me- chanicall y she glanced at t 0 name engraven thereon. “ ‘ Colonel Arthur Breytuune,” she read, and wondering what could have induced him to thus intrude on her, she turned to the servant. “Tell him, James, that I wish to be excused.” B0wing low the footman left the room, but re turned in a moment. “ Pardon, Miss Faulconer,” was his remark, as he again entered the room. “ Colonel Breytoune desires extremely to see I you; for he says that it is a matter of theutmost importance that urges him to call.” “Then show him in," returned the girl, list- lessly; for she took not much interest in any- thing and feared no further blows from the Iron Hand of Fate. and she knew nothing of the duel in which Walter had figured as principal and Breytouue as second. In a moment the door of the drawin -room was thrown open for the third time, and t e ser- vant announced: “ Colonel Breytoune.” Without rising from her seat, Irene bowed coldly, and motioning the visitor to a seat some distance away,accosted l im: “ To what am I indebted, Colonel Breytoune, for the honor of this visit?” “ To an unfortunate occurrence, Miss Faul- 00ner, with which I am sorry to acquaint you." “ An unfortunate occurrence?” “ Most unfortunate.” “ Has fate still another stroke in store for me? I‘beg of you, colonel, speak!” “ You do not probabl y know that my office is just opposite Mr. Langley’s, and that this cir- cumstance, combined with others, has made us very intimate— I may say Warm—friends. “ Mr. Langley, as you probably know, left the city unexpectedly yesterday, intending to return tomorrow or next day. “ But this morning my office-boy received a telegram directed to me, which he immediately brought to the Board and handed to me, and— I beg of you to be calm, Miss Faulconer, here it is.” The girl took the yellow bit of paper, which fluttered like a leai’ in her trembling hands, and, not cglancing at the date or address at the top, rea : " Mr. Walter Langley thrown from a carriage and seriously injured, perhaps fatally. He hex-s 5 on to communicate the intelligence to Miss Faulconer and bring her here at once. “ (Sigurd) Da. R. E. Ensues.” Like one dazed she sat for a moment with set lips and white face, her staring eyes fixed on the words beftre her, which were of such terrible import and then, rising, while the telegram fell to the ii or, she cried: “ Oh, yes, yes! I will go at once. “I will be ready in a few minutes, colour], and will join you. “Have you a carriage?” “ My coupe is at the door, Miss Faulconer and is at your disposal, as are also my services. “ And believe me when I say that my deepest sympathies are—” He stopped as the girl, seemingly unconscious of the fact that he was addressing her, hurried- ly left the room and hastened upstairs, leavin him alone in the parlor, when he stooped, an icking u the te e ram carelessly stuck it in packs , while a 00k of exultant joy over- spread his features as he muttered: “ The bait has proven successful, and the trap has caught the victim.” In a wonderful short time the girl returned dressed for the journey and followed by a’ ser- vant carr inga small hand-sachel, and with a gesture to reytoune she swept out of the front door and down the steps to where the wellrap pointed carriage awaited them, and, the door being held open b the obsequious colonel, she entered and seats herself, while he, following her. gave a direction to the driver, and the door beirgg closed, the vehicle rattled off toward the de t. aking the train Colonel Breytoune, having made the girl as comfortable as he could, left her to her own thoughts and retired to toe smok- ing-car, where, lightinfi a cigar. he sat buried in his own thoughts, wh e the train sped on, the darkness came down over do earth, and the plunged on toward the end of that journey whic was to result so fearfully for one of the twain thus so strangely brought together. The journey lasted far into the night, and Irene’s and thoughts were only interrupted at intervals by an occasional visit from Brey toune, who came to inquire if he could be of any amist- ance to her, until at length he appeared with the announcement that they were nearly at the end of their journey. and that thev were to descend at the next station, which they soon reached and found deserted, save by the sleepy agent. and a man who at once came forward and touching his hat, asked if he Were Colonel ory ton. . “ Colonel Breytonne is my name; do you ooms from Doctor Eustace!" “Yes, air. He sent me over with his ca: , ..‘ .-,\,r..bl ' ' riage to meet you, for the town is some distance away, and you could not get any conveyance here tonight. ” “How is Mr. Langley?” “ Dying, 1 fear, sir. “ I am Doctor Eustace’s partner, and saw the patient a short time ago, and—” “ Oh. sir!” cried Irene, clasping her hands, while the tears welled in her eyes. “ Do not say there is no hope.” ' Gazing at her curiously, the young physmian turned to Breytoune and whispered: “ His sister?” - “ His future wife—if he lives.” These remarks were overheard by Irene, as, indeed, it was intended; but, interrupting, she pleaded: “ Oh, sir; do not let us waste any time, for every moment is precious. Let us hasten away. Is it very far?” “ An hour’s drive, Miss-3’ “Miss Faulconer,” added Breytoune. “ But she is right. You can tell us of the ac- cident as we drive on. Where is your carriage?” “ Just around here.” In a few moments the three were seated in a covered vehicle, drawn by two horses, and were spinning over the road at a pace which, speedy as it was, seemed 810W and snail-like to the im- atient girl, while the physician, who held the ines narrated to them the story of Langley’s accident. “ He was driving across the country to visit a large seaside cottage, which he thought of pur- chasing for a summer residence,” said their guide, ‘ and mentioned the fact of intending to make it a wedding- resent to his bride. “ It was getting ate, and he was urging his horses to their highest speed, so as to reach the house before dark, when the forward wheel struck some unnoticed obstacle, and he was thrown out, striking heavily on his head, and lay for some time unconscious. “ Fortunately, Doctor Eustace, who was re- turning from a rofessional visit, discovered him and taking t e apparentlylifeless body in his buggy, drove rapid y home, and after sev- eral hours attention succeeded in restoring him to consciousness, when he related the story of his accident, and begged the }physician to send the tel ram which Colonel reytoune had re- ceived t t day. “ The rest they knew, except that concussion of the brain was feared and his life was placed in the deepest jeopardy.” As ina dream the irl listened, and, as in a dream the different ob ects on the roadside flit- ted by, until finally, the fresh air blowing in her face, the salt smell borne on the wings of the night-wind, the never-ceasing roar that she heard, gave evidence of the fact that they were approaching the shore yet, strain her eyes as she would, she could discover no lights which would show the vicinityof a village or town, and she began to feel a little uneasy. But, suddenly, as they swept out into the open from the road, which had for some time wound in and out among the overhanging branches of the forest,they had traversed, a broad glare burst on her sight and a light-house, perched high above them, streamed its rays far out over land and sea. At the same moment the vehicle stopped Breytoune, open the door, logged out, an turning to the now rrifled girl, : “ We have arrived.” “ But, colonel,” she stammered “ I see no 11011808. 110 place where Walter could be. Surely he is not in yonder light-house i” “Come, 1, step down,” was the stern re- sponse. “ he farce is layed through, and the tragedy is about to be .’ “Oh colonel—” “ Co onel no longer- for the present. Captain. just now. Allow me to present myself to you,” continued her abductor, r- m wing his disguise, which chan ed him compiou l y. “ Captain rake. at your service 1" And as the unfortunate girl sunk to the ground, half~fainting and a prey to a thousand conflict- ing emotiom,Wrake, aha: Breytoune, lifted her and carried her slight form easily to the en- trance of the wreckers’ den. The carriage and driver had dilappmrgd. CHAPTER XXVII. runrsnusnr AND REWARD. So Irene, Carrie, Luke and George were all in I the power of Captain Wrake, and t seemod as if his schemes were about to be crowned with succem, for there was apparently no escape for any of them, so closely were the guarded and so careful] were they watched}: and the day following t e entire number were gathered to- gether in the main cavern, while the band of aptain Wrake stood or sat about the room in various attitudes- but the wife of the leader Pas absent, and, despite all search, could not be oun . Ranged as were Luke and his companions in misfortune in a semicircle in front of Wrake, who sat in an easy-chair, surveying the group with a satisfied expreuion, they could but won- . what all this meant; but soon learned as cade jailer leaned forward and ad- 19 “.4... Luke, the Life-Saver. “Many years ago there lived in New York City a gentleman who had married a young widow who had an only son; that son now ad— dresses you. “ She idolized her boy he adored her, and when she married a second time she was influ- enced as much by a desire to assure her boy’s future as by the regard and esteem in_ which she held the gentleman who offered her his hand and his fortune, which was already immense. “ He promised her that her son should be well cared for, and in the event of his—the husband’s - ~death, should be prominently mentioned in his will. “ But in less than six months the young wife died, leaving her idolized buy in the hands of his step-father, who promised a am that_ he would make him his sole heir, an at the time he meant it, for he worshiped his Wife, and the thought that another would °Ver occupy her place never entered his stricken mind. “ And as years rolled on he seemed still faith- ful to the memor of the dead, and raissd his step—son in the be ief that he only should inherit his possessions. “ But time brought change, and before the boy —who was now Ioventeen years old—was aware of his intention, he had married and installed a new mistress 1n the house which the lad had al- ways looked upon a" his own. ” Immediatelytha deep affection he felt for the old man changed to deepest hate, for he thought that the memory of his sainted mother had been insulted, and the promise made to her on her death-bed broken by her husband, who had roven false to his oath. “ here was a stormy scene, and the boy left the house and be an a struggle with the world for his bread, ang a hard struggle it was. " But years rolled by, and children came to the home of the recreaut and, learning this, the disinherited lad began his schemes for ven- geance. “There were two daughters and a son, the oldest girl being some two years older than the boy, who was about as much older than his , younger sister. “ By a wuccessful ruse the boy was captured by a tool of the outcast, who held him in his. power through knowledge of a crime commit- ted, and sent away from America. “ And that boy thus stolen away and watched by the man who was well paid for his work, was you Luke Faulconer—ba Lined Lucian Langley ii‘aulconer, after a dear riend of your fathgr’s, and of whom Walter Langley is the son! Like a thunder-clap this announcement fell upon the hearers, while Luke was stunned b 1 this revelation of all that was mysterious in his I life, and he was about to speak, when Wrake interrupted him with a gesture, and continued: “Yes; you and Irene Faulconeb are brother and sister, but your eldest sister, as I have learned from closely questionin a child saved from the wreck, perished with or husband on the Jessie. “ And this is the child 1” He motioned to one of the men, who entered a side corridor and returned in a moment with Lillian; catching sight of whom, Irene, with a wild cry,rushed forward and clasped her in her arms, crying: “ Oh, my dear, darling little sister!” and a hundred endearing exclamations, while the child clung to her franticall ,as if she would never be torn from her eulac up, arms. f‘ A touching family reunion,” sneered Wrake, as he glan toward the up, while Luke vainly endeavored to break rom the grasp of the two men who held him and. rush to the sis- ters he had never known. “ The little one was born long after you, sir, but, as everything comes to him who waits, so she also has fallen into my hands. “ And now that you are in my power, nothiu stands between me and your father’s col fortune, for our mother is dead, your father is S dead and I ave his papers containing a will 3 that he made in my favor long ago, and also one . he drew up the day before he—died whereby he : disinherits me, and laws his wealth to you, his ' children. i “ For you must disap r—how, I have not I et determined; but I wil not falter when the ; {our of my success is so near, and the last will ' destroyed and your fate unknown, I will pro- r duce my testimony and enter upon the career of ' luxury and pleasure my much-honored step- father in his kindness has provided for me. L “ As for you, George Edgerton, and you, Car- ; rie Homer, you know too much, and their fate L shall be ours! ! “ As t e in-coming sea sweeps before it all the ' pluony barriers which man can raise, I will sweep in my path every obstacle which confronts , me; and without hesitation, without remorse, ‘ seize the inheritance of which man‘s faithless- 1 uses has deprived me i” , And wit nostrils quivering with passion and I his eye gla cing fine. he rose to his full height . and stood, with outstretched arm, likean aven - 1 ing angel, while the courage of his hearers sun I as they realized that this was an enemy, im la- ] cable, deadly, who would hesitate at no 6 which woul gain his ends. But, as he stood there, the curtains hanging5 before the doorway were thrown aside, and to.) form of the mysterious maiden stood in the eu— trance, as, with uplifted hand pointec straight a t IVrake, she spoke while the superstitious band shrunk away a oowered in awe before the visitor: “ Roy Forester, I have saved you from many a crime, and now come to prevent this, your last and greatest. . “You knovv that my threats are never idle ones, so—bewarel" “ Fiend or angel or human though you be, I will now discover,” shrieked Wrake, or Roy Forester, as he must now be called, as, insane from fury, he leaped forward, before he could be prevented, and, lifting high his hand, smote the girl with glittering steel, deep in. the an 'e, and as she fell, bathed in blood, she faintlymur- muted: “ Oh, Roy, Roy. this from you i” .And in a moment she was dead, and as she died the assassin recognized, through her dis- guise, the features of his wife, who had thus ar- rayed herself on more than one occasion to save from death sOme nerishing creature, that she might. in some way, mitigate her husband‘s crimes; her husband whom,bathed in blood and wickedness as he was, she lOVBd more than me itself. As he realized what hau happenel. the wretched man became frenzied and fall"? shrieked: “Now let the jaws of Inferno vomit their hordes of lost spirits to exult in the sight of what a man can do when opposed. “ I give you two minutes to prepare for your doom, for as sure as all I loved on earth lies dead in her shroud of gore, so surely will you join her in eternity when twice sixty seconds shall have ticked their time away I” And holding his watch in one hand, he raised his pistol with the other and eluted it at the helpless grou before him, wh e the men he had bought to ai him in his schemes for vengeance stood back and did not lift a finger to help the prisoners. But at that moment a red form bounded stealthin into the cavern behind the madman, and, striking his arm, threw the pistol high in the air, where it exploded hamlessly, while two sinewy arms encircled the lunatic s body and held him powerless. And at the same time a party of blue coats burst in after him, and leveled their rifles at the band who were taken so completely by surprise that they had no time to raise a Weapon, while Walter angley, leaping to Irene‘s side, caught the fainting girl in his arms just as she fell to the ground. It did not take long to secure the band, and then matters‘were explained, for Langley, call- in at Irene’s house, had found her gone, but 8 cl w to- her' whefeabouts was discovered in the! tele mt by‘ one of the band to “Colone Breytoune,” from a station near by, :23 which had been dropped by accident in the Knowing that there must be treachery, about, he had hastened to New London and communi~ cated with Lieutenant Murray, of the Hornet and finding Winnemuka on board had steamed away with the Indian as a guide. The light-house reached, they learned of the disap use of the ser cant—who was soon fou imprisoned in one o the ( ells ~ and led by Winnemuka, had arrived 'ust in time. The sto related by rake was retold, and before leav . careful search was made for the papers referred to, but without success until lit- tle Lillian pointed out their whereabouts, hav- in seen them hidden by Captain Wrake. d then the party, rescued, rescuers and captured, left the cavern, and were soon in the open air, and leaving two of the men to care for t e light-house, embarked. But as they neared the Hornet, Wrake, whose hands were but loosely tied, suddenly lama his feet, and, sailing Lillian, plunged over , cryiplg: ‘ our cup of joy shall have a drop of bitter- ness in it I” But as he struck the water Winnemuka was beside him and wrenched the child from his grasp and handed her to the outstretched arms of Irene, only at the same instant to been- twined in the iron embrace of Wrake, or Rey Forester. and in a moment they sunk, their dis- appearing place shown on] by a few bubbles which mar edthe grave o “ The Last of the Shinnecocks.’ Two clippings from a New York paper of dif- ferent dates will furnish a suflment sequel to this story: ‘ MARRIED. , ,: Luemr—Fsuwoxnn.~0n Wednesday. Septemlier 12th, 187—, by the Rev. James s. Asher. at e residence of the bride, Walter Lthley to I- 0, daughter of the late General Faulconer, all of , York City. . ' Fsuwonnn— Henna —— On Monday, Februa 4th, 1884 h the Rev. James A. Asher, at the deuce of W ter Langley, .. Lucian bangle Faul- coner to Caroline, dang tor of the late Homer. m IND. ; Numb ._ .t...l.l.‘.z_wm_ R b min—rm, his 1 to 24, Inclusive. Each s “aha... ._.,r_..,,. “Ham; . _-., . cake 4 ' ' ' “15;?” Why—77.7 _A p r, 100 page. 121110., containing fr "fi—«wrfii'ii; h..___,,rrfi o by No l D. fi_h__‘n'*“ '“ *N;i: I ' ‘j;;:-_:_'_':_:t“ 7 7:7 I" ‘0 plecu‘ ' mug Alnerica, , . a me locutioni 7 H " ""‘ ' v '57 . _‘..;‘._'" ntha-Ytfif Washington. iggtgggIESrgration. 81110131- PF-LYCIPLES 0F TRUE 5. Effignell’cg 0f States’ Astronomical 0t 0 1th e M81119 I‘an The Weather ' n mm?“th HOW toAvoid Them SIGN-"mullta New 01 011’ The Moon ’ l The lanaigzttleflled, The Heated Term 853d Obbewatlons. ‘ pecla'l Blues The U353 B all? Emlyn. Dunes Of’meficagzgfi? Fugge Phi] .11. Ta “'99-. ThM de 6 . v oso hyA bed _ E ART or on - , . Plea. firth - , e 3“ fir 503%‘33538' $§£1‘1%9118§p ’ figng‘flglfi Tranquilligfuéheggffigg‘;S Ififfitgf Axrneriéa, e Repfiglfiacy figgiiptatlggns of Cities 8 EQualit ’0: Man Y 156, ound Fool— - , v 11.00nery Joy, Delight a" ’- v ' ’ “ mm of Secession w ’ 6‘? Solutions ' Character 0 the Re . , True Cleanliness fish umy, Attentlon, Modest P61 ,plexivt Prowty .In- Life’s Sunset 9. There 15 no Death. v The Fruits of the Wvo n. §at'd’y Night‘s n..oy_,ta; C elancholy, Despair ’em- glimyl It)” nef. Human Nani-e Races, The Sew' - . “r: In a Just Cause”! ‘ oumgev . (Misting. ride, db. " "" Homo!“ Lawyers. ’ A Fm‘tful Discourse Wehrarllfigiachme, Ngiofieawe with oppres_ g‘i’élzgilégmgérgorbiddigg, Afitgigfgg. XVrongls of the Indians figfi¥%mtlfin‘:lmnner .1; 3 St ’ ‘ ' ' ‘ . 2.» JHRZEX ort' . y” a Pea inb, ' ~ axon A I 111339ng” Great ' Thghggélczsgfivgghsemon’ ‘ Pegiderrwfigm%er11§rszxzttli58in§‘1Remain“ (“Emirfgfdfig g Ifiay sermon: y, igix‘éeTé‘12m35°“’s 138‘” r t. . v , . 'c e , 1 V. mu, 0 I, ['7' ’ ‘ 1138,11] an n - ‘ A. “(gttilgg Rls'g. mafiggfis Im ergshable noigghellggfigondfi‘r, Adllllfiutggslg‘natfigE? g: D , It 18 NM; Y0“r% Jame“. ‘ e Nationality ' . ‘ 903’ 0r the Y’r tiok " ‘ ‘ 9‘" .empting, Prmhisin ’ inle Ju ' “I‘lelf'ifial Duy' ’ Egggfilgtlhlgraflns’ SEC.DiI§10t’III‘hIEutgmcatlon’ Anger, etc. g, 'mecm‘ A Boy's Philoso :enfle Speaker, No' 9' r hem 0v Immm-taljt of pat’ - non—Rules 'OMPONEN‘T'ELEMENTS or AN OM 1109 Out Yonr 1&3, How the Raven 38mm. 1 h . ence the Basis of Websters 0].“ note, and Pb. 0f_COHl§)thlt10n as implied to W blx-Year-Old‘s Pro' 19-0 7 gmagf Light Libead ‘ A Vision in mg F381;?“ ; As appljlglsffi; s'Si't‘megfitvx, Plfopriety, Preciggllls £113 Suicidal Cat. teSt’ ; Meme-“’9 Work. ’ . 1 12.: J ‘ ‘ k ' ‘ . ' ) After the Battle, mg 6’ Twhgnfafgshi ’ l %§“’5‘838'U"'Wuscrength. Fi ‘é‘ 5‘3??va Popglhdlglon’ 'Whobfixullz’s weeggfifllgggéh 'Right ofsthefilotggmed’ I Coggggggioghghgafi'erfttiom tie l’I‘opogféh ’ 3:: The Edgtofm’ Story ‘ M Lad . a u ation the re ’ The Sa 1 ’- ttle Corre' ma g1] monology: fimamder' Elgar-3;; ggglsfispNTAzrvn Exnncxsns :rfig; AND Fafi’éfloggfgg} ggquggdmhl-:p%m - . -— 1011' V i ' gram“ 011’s Name, Th%n§£mm g somoquy 0n Honoi" tfiéeasfi‘gm‘hefo’h Falstaff? Pres: 317135 Leamed' in ' [Amman - '° 0" BOY’S Syren, Disunion on 0 1861‘ 2 Ram?“ {he Ba onet RhaEECOxli‘hth" The Ho’ée I’llMNever use Tobm I fn . ' e' e 11 1e; the e“ . J 7.; l 0 The Snake’l 0880. ' "uh 1"” “won-J Speaker. no 2 hnawahsmfib m 353's 0: £333” 3:53:13?le- on and its Results on; . . Essa onto ’ E 1 m Ru us-' th E . ‘ 01“ eY’S Speech ~ ' . 8 , ‘ , . o Musik; D150 a 9 3’6 an TIeSa, . ' Lit e Jun, #110 ggfigggafixgglfifé Olivér Hazard Perry, 5150- V- Onsnnvuroxs 2:83;: or Ganleo' , T50 h33}9§%’13?d°“'”‘ Angelina‘s Lament. a-rrue Immortality ’5' 3‘" Domain . ” AUTHOWI'HM- Shaka arian Scholar hohm’y 51mm!“ on Boo- Lat ‘61" GEM” 991’ $333313: 583?" Dune Humorous Speaker No 8 fifigten's Psalm 0‘ Life. 01:3ng of Hon Oun ' ‘ y ! 0 “N, %. Dion 3 Hgégl‘g’)’, The Independent Farmer 2 32;} SW?» poetry Run Mad ° Plea. for Skates Poor Rlchard’féaylm 3,31“ ndeuce Ben.” fifiv i’fig'fimmcm’ A Trag £33m Right- Names ' KEY? 38’" ' mfl$3m 1‘09". e bola," one om r 80 entifl ’ , y 0 {be 0168 0? 335m” {,‘jygffygotgebegmom 83mm!) gig: Agecr,Lect ’ ii? fgifime‘h'ngfi 33333? Best 1’ °"°’ - tmas Chg ’ l y ’ Cock 0 8 He - v mbmty of 01111523th Our cflountry First: ’ ngt The Codfllslfi’y’ The Outside D13): 00 ed, ggsflqr the Fieldsy T1312: gme Higher Law, ' BigfishA}:flalyl'eB;lce DOW, ju’s Lectures, R“ or sergeant Thin. Egg iznfiommb’ ! on Silang B nesfii‘imhfiesfla ' $31186 of Jeaefson. §§§£33Ef% nailimesghlgm Fm “NEW-mug 6 “:38, Tecumseh’s s h v a onal Hatreds. F a 9 omen. The Harp of 3 Th ° ' Sick Lion. ' “a “can Territorial E W” -' Murder Will Cut 933% “was. Strings, Wm" Country and Town I' n Homwogat c 80“! "mm Ho 1151;211:4103. Stnve for the 361,1; G liNature. The Last of th Man and Woman, 9' N039 an Eyes, ' The p v. Earl Risi , ’ 0“ eh Klemyergoss T ° gamma. Home, Malt mmhhmwg aawsgéh‘fidness. hhfishnlfihgsga Ta: mew-Planter. hefihnhmdm Years“? oh and Poor ' ’ 689. H 1 ODS, The Pum ’ e lugs. . an and ha. . The B 18 0w the oney oes ' A 3,, , thtle gem th ~ ., ! The Se - b 3 Soul 0118 32% 33°13?» hfioohlseh HEh$8:;3:nF°mh or ghese3r§€w 133—] “W- figfifiooggfi’cmhmm " 4?, n8: Git U ’ O 6 “18816. If 011M N’ he Shoemaker 9“ or g s Th '1‘ es. " . ' The Rats Of . o la Age, ean 0, Say No. The Usef v Hombug Pat 8 Ocea_1 Storm 1 hwwnénemohw s %“%£lhfillfiuat,u 1% Shell‘s!) 3123' {Vaté‘ifi’ufmn he; 1‘33” mm“ Baggihhzuwanmfi» r89 0018 . u 6 1,0 v ‘ 0 t e Bache om’ - gsv ' B _ ’ Washi ’ Man and the Infinite ' . “"0? S E egy 0” shI'lm s “e B?“ g3 Gagglllhheritance $£figg€ Of the Eagle, §Igzfigglgbo ’ gm 323mg Widens D. p on Amusements, Prescnptl’on for [$3223 0 ’ 0n. , v 1111 l g” °“ Hwy may, The Deluge 8:3 Shhzzzghbm Wigs-$23135 Poppins the e If “mad-Basie Speaker. No. 10. ‘1 Dime P ' Paddl ' at I WOuldn‘t B n “to” Oration, mm. atmotic Speaker, No. 3. Parade Your O‘YP C“”°?- Yankee Doodle mfidi galls Yon Splegel’s 4th gchmtheafl selimmm, America to the W 1 A - D y 01,1 Araby s Ze Moskeeta, 11’ Josh Blllln ’3 Advice ' u ze1'18! Phllosopedb Love of Country or d, ngFtO of hour Fungal. aughter, 1 1933- re, #hfltgd-she Sermofl, v LIKgmfiR’g Rights” 1 (R, ight of Seu_13resewu - eag er‘s A egg, D. S e oots, Th er, u Our C . ‘ .9 Owe to the Union. me tande 5 The squeeze, e Hog, A Kenfifi‘fgi ,1, Non, Lincoln’s Me e The World We Liv peak“! Noe 7. Noah and the’ Dev Jack Spratt, a 3 ap Lag 55"? e In Job B n’ N E gimmicky Steadfasgfm. At o dmphen X’tirlnan’s Flajms, ’ No gee??? ggttySburg, fi,%