r metersilicetniditiaets ines bined hla & 2 a r nectiintint ad 1 ee apie lieth Mittin, icin ia i attire WRECK OF THE ALBION. THE WRECK OF THE ALBION: A Gale of the Sea. ‘» en eee BY JOHN &. WARNER, AUTHOR OF “THE BRETHREN OF THE COAST,” KTC., BTC, ETO, HOUVON : BEADLE AND COMPANY, 44, PATERNOSTER ROW. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. WRECK OF THE ALBION. CHAPTER f. y THE PIAZZA, Iv had been a day of unusual loveliness, The sun waa fast sinking in the west, leaving here and there its parting beams, to play a while with the rustling leaves of the forest; or kiss the waters of the dancing brook. — On the crest of a gentle rise of ground, not far from the | city of New Orleans, stood the mansion of Charles: Leneger. The house itself was not at all striking in appearance, save in its air of comfort and contentment, which could scarce fail to arrest attention. On the broad piazza sat its owner, a Man far past the meridian of life. At the first glance, one would believe him to be the embodiment of kindness, the personifica- tion of the golden law, “Do unto others as you would that they should do unto you;” closer observation, however, would betray an expression of the mouth, and a glinting of the eye, that might cause a shrewd reader of human nites to say to himself, “beware !” Mr. Leneger was a true disciple of King George III Through the entire struggle of the Revolution, he had — remained a firm believer in the coercive policy adopted by England against her colonies; and when that struggle, which, for eight long years, devastated the land with fire and sword, had ended, and the thirteen States were free, his ungenerous nature assumed that it was a feeling of generosity in England, ‘ which, conceded American Independence, denying that the valiant conduct of the sons of America had enabled them to command their terms. This unfair sentiment at once revealed his disloyalty and his want of generosity. He was too supremely selfish to feel magnanimity even to a foe. He 6 WRECK OF THE ALBION. - bad never married, and what little affection he could enter- ’ tain was centered in the person of his ward. Ella St. John had” but a faint recollection of the gentle being who gave her birth. Her father had been the school- mate of Mr. Leneger; and, although differing strongly in politics, they had ever remained steadfast friends. On his deathbed, Colonel St. John had given to his, friend the entire charge of his little daughter, stipulating no wish, except one, as to the regulation of her future life, but leaving all to the judgment of the man in whom he placed confidence, believing that he would feel and do for her as if he indeed held the responsible place of parent. In appearance, she was a girl seldom to be met with. There was no commanding feature or extraordinary special gift of countenance. It was the unison of the harmonics which caused the beholder to gaze upon her with admiration. Reso- lute in what she knew to be right, she yet yielded when _ advised by those older, and more versed in the tangled and ‘intricate mazes of life’s journey. Her nature seemed to court love as its food, and to yield it both as a duty and a . necessity of her being. F “Filla, my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Adams, Mr. Leneger’s housekeeper, entering the room in which the young lady was - silting, “you are wanted down stairs.” “For what, I wonder? It is really too bad to be inter- rupted in my story.” “What do you find so interesting ?” “A tale of the sea, Mrs. Adams; of a noble ship being caught in a gale of wind, with all her sails set, and how, by the presence of mind of her poe, she was saved from wreck.” TT = no book will interest you unless it smacks of salt water,’ “ As for that,” replied the young lady, with a laugh, “TI can not say; but, most certainly, I do admire the life that sailors | lead. My reading has informed me of many of the orders |) given on shipboard, which I can repeat. For instance, I can || tell you why the top-gallant bowlines are let go when the tacks and sheets are raised; but, how to ewecwte the order j} would be quite another thing, and one I would not understand.” “ You are evidently saeatad for a sailor’s wife, a. for ing by voice and action how deeply the subject interested 2 _A YJUNG LADY OF NAUTICAL TASTES, “Experience, only, will teach you,” replied. Mrs. Adams; “and if you like, I will speak to Mr. Leneger, to have you ship for a short voyage.” “J thank you, I do not think’ it wili be necessary, for I have, by my books, the advantage of learning the experience of others. It is pleasant to sit in an easy-chair and read of the dangers attending the mariner in his wanderings over tho _trackless deep, but it certainly must be quite the reverse to be with him in person, and experience the storms and terrors of the sea. But, shall I tell you why tacks and sheets are raised when the bowlines are let go?” “You may, if you please; but I can assure you I will not . understand the meaning of one word you say. Yet, tell me, Ella, that I may judge how well you remember what you read.” “The reason, then, why they are let go, is, because, when the sails are what is called ‘ aback, if the braces are not quite taut, the whole strain of the top-gallant sail, and also a great part of the topsail, would come upon them; also, that time may be given for them to be cleared away, before the yards are hauled. Now, Mrs. Adams, after that, you dare not say I am no sailor, and that all I want to perfect me is actual experience.” ' “Very well recited; but, tell me why you are so fond of nautical reading? Your father was connected with the army, and his tastes were all for the field; you, I should think, would rather read of wars and sieges than of winds and waves.” “In reading of battles,” replied the girl, in an animated voice, “you are excited; but by the contest of human pas- sions—of man arrayed against man. With the sea, oh, how different! for there the hand of God is manifested in the dashing waves, the shrieking shrouds and the howling tem- pest. It seems to me a contest for mastery between the Omnipotent and his creature. He sends the hurricane, sweep- ing death and destruction to the sailor, who smiles at its fury, as the vessel, shorn of her sails, and with plenty of sca- room, scuds before the blast, until the storm is over. Oh! Mrs. Adams,” she continued, rising from her seat, and show- f 8 WRECK OF THE ALBION. her, “if I were a man, nothing should prevent me “from becoming a disciple of Neptune. The simple order of ‘ Away aloft’ has in its decision, its brevity, a very charm, and would make me fly to my station as fast as feet could tread ratlin.” “Ella, you are an enthusiast, and, as I have said, evidently intended for a seaman’s wife. However, much as the subject may interest you, we must speak no more about it to-day, for Mr. Leneger will become impatient.” , “True,” replied the joyous girl, going toward the door ; “T will run down and see what the gentleman wishes, but at some other time I will play sailor again, and tell you what a *gab-rope’ is, and a ‘monkey-yard,’” and, playfully kissing her hand, she sought the side of her guardian. “T have been dilatory in obeying your orders,” she said, as she seated herself by his side, “ but I know you will not chide when I explain the cause.” “And what may that be, my merry prattler ?” he asked, “JT was engaged with the book I received yesterday—I found it such a charming sea-tale.” “Sea-tale!” he muttered, in an altered tone, and slightly frowning, as if the mention of the name brought other than pleasing thoughts. “Why is it, Ella, that your tastes run in such a channel? Read of your father’s life, child, of glorious war, and let the thoughts of the uncertain element be with them who are wsiniad: to it by birth and education.” “Am I wrong, sir,” she timidly asked, “in loving to read of the ocean? If 40, IT will most certainly forego the pleas- ure,” “No, Ella; I can not say that you are wrong; but, it is very unusual for a young lady to be interested in what she _ knows so little about. Had your father been a sailor, instead of a soldier, then I should not haye been so much surprised ; but, we will talk no more on the subject. I have sent for you to converse on matters which deeply affect your welfare.” “What are they?” she inquired, with surprise. “Of your future settlement in life,’ he answered, ,“ You have arrived at that age when it becomes necessary for you to choose a companion who will be in all respects worthy of you. The subject has been long contemplated by me, and you may think it strange that I haye not, until the presenz x 1° MR. TINDALE, THE SUGAR-BROKER. 9 time, mentioned it to you. The reason is, that, as your father placed your happiness in my charge, I have carefully watched for the advances of some young man in whose charge I could safely place you, feeling not the — anxiety that the future would disappoint my selection.” “But, I hope, sir, I am to be somewhat consulted | in the matter ?” she exclaimed, proudly. “Most certainly,” he answered, smiling. ‘ Yet, you are aware that my age, and the position I hold toward you, entitle me to either give, or withhold, advice. Is there no one, Ella, among all your admiring followers, who finds fayor in your eyes ?” “No one,” she answered, slightly blushing at the question. “TJ will say, then, there is one whom I should like you to look upon with favorable eyes—one, to my mind, in every way worthy of you. He is my choice.” This was all uttered in a tone more of command than of advice. “ And who, may I ask, is this gentleman ?” she answered. “Myr, Tindale, the sugar-broker. He is a man of great wealth and influence, besides being descended from one of the oldest families of Louisiana.” “JT do not doubt the gentleman is all you represent,’ she answered, with some surprise. “I have known him put a short time, and yet, now you speak of him, I. remember his visits have been, of late, quite frequent, and his manner marked with rather more than a friendly intent.” “All of which I am aware of,” replied the guardian. “ Although you have met but seldom, he has made known. to me how much he felt interested in you, Although I have known him for years, our relation has been of a purely busi- ness connection. It was a transaction of a commercial nature which first brought him to my house. During that visit he saw you, and, a short time after, mentioned how muck you had pleased him, and asked my consent to visit you. I gave it at once, as I saw how much such an associate must advance your interests. You will, then, remember that his future visits are to you. Will you not try to bring yourself to see him in the light of .a lover, as well as an admirer ?” “T shal, no} force my nature to do any thing repugnant to ° 10 WRECK OF THE ALBION. it,” she resolutely answered; but added, quickly, seeing that -her guardian was much disturbed, “yet I will see him, but I fear I never car bring rayself to love one so much. older than I.” “T certainly wish you to gratify my wishes in the matter, Ella,” replied her guardian, decidedly. “In after years, you _ will bless me for the interest I now take in the matter. But? here comes the very person,” he exclaimed, as the gentleman in question was observed coming toward the house. “How are you to-day, Mr. Leneger? I hope to see you well, Miss St. John?” were the greetings, as he ascended ‘to the piazza. “Both well, I thank you,” replied Mr. Leneger. “But you have not walked here from the city ?” “No, I sent my man further on, and concluded to remain here, with your permission, until his return.” “We are glad to see you, and would be pleased to have you remain with us until morning, if you will.” “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, I assure you; but I have a press of business which will allow of no relax- ation at present,” he replied, adding: “still, I hope to avail myself of your kind invitation before long, and leave the noise and bustle of the city, to spend a week in this most charming and retired spot.” Turning to Ella, he continued: “I am confident you are acquainted with all the pleasant rambies and romantic spots of the neighborhood, therefore I must beg you will become my cicerone. I could not well se:ect a ~ more charming guide,” and he bowed gallantly. ; Ella smiled, and simply bowed her acquiescence. iw many young ladies would covet romantic walks with such » companion ? was the question ‘which almost found utterance at the moment. Mr. Tindale was a person of about forty years of age, possessed of no attractions of person or manner. It is true, the wealth he had amassed, and the respect he - commanded, would have rendered him a “suitable match” to a lady of mature years; but wealth offered no induce- ment to one who already had an abundance, and the com- mercia) value of the man of forty to the ardent and loving nature of the girl of eighteen was, unquestionably, far below par, THRE iTS, . Ella soon made her escape from the socicty of the gentle men, and sought her room to quiet her perturbed spirita Almost immediately: after her departure, Tindale asked ; “ Have you broached the subject ?” “T have.” “Well, what is the answer?” ~ “ By no means hopeful, I fear.” Tindale looked somewhat discomposed, but answered: “That does not surprise me. You must, however, use your authcrity, if persuasion will not answer. You surely haye motive enough to urge you on.” “JT know—I know,” was Mr. Leneger’s hurried reply. “But I can not yet bring myself to force measures upon her that I know would be distasteful. In my conversation, I ‘spoke quite decidedly, and as she, poor child, has never as yet heard aught but kindness from my lips, it must have astonished her much.” “You are well aware, Mr. Leneger,” replied his companion, dropping his voice to its accustomed prompt business tone, “of the papers I hold against you, owing to the failure of your last year’s crop, together with the other reverses you have of late experienced; so that, did I wish it, it lays in my power to make you a ruined man. J am well aware of your ability © to cancel the debt, should time be given you, but I shall use the power I now haye to compel you to assist—nay, more, to insure my marriage with your ward; for a failure on your part to do so, I shall certainly strip you of all your possessions. We have spoken of this before, so let the subject drop.” “ At the close of our last conversation,” Mr. Leneger said, © much excited, “on this most disagreeable subject, you did not ask a decided answer for the space of a month; that month is not yet up, and I have already spoken to Ella. Embarrassed as my circumstances are, and much as I would wish the canceling or deferment of the payments I have to make, yet threats will not.aid you, nor hurry me. Beware, lest I answer you now, and bid you do your worst! Ella, thank God, has property of her own, and, humiliating as it would be to me to | become a dependent on her bounty, still, if you talk of _ employing such very stringent measures, I shall wash my hands of the whole busiaess. You will find, Mr. Tindale, WRECK OF THE ALBION. 12 j that, old and proud as I am, I have still determination left to . prevent ne compromising my self-respect.” “T do not mean to threaten you, my friend,” replied his companion, evidently impressed by the planter’s manner; “I simply mention the case as it 7s. You, sir, could not endure to lose your wealth. I doubt not but it would cause your death. It is a hard thing for a man, who’ has once com- manded the position you now hold, to lose all, and Lave society point their fingers at you as a ruined man—to see your rich friends drop off, one by one—to be pitied—to hear the condolences, such as ‘ poor fellow’—” “ Bnough, sir. I will answer you at the expiration of the month, and, until then, I will hear no more of it.” He arose as he spoke, and, extending an invitation to Tindale, they entered the house. 4 CHAPTER’ Ms a ; THE WIDOW’S SON. . Remorse from the Leneger mansion a mile or more, in a luxuriant growth of wood and vine, nestled a small but extremely pretty cottage. Around the front porch grew a profusion of rose-bushes, and, climbing to the top of the low piazza, twined the honeysuckle and other graceful creepers. The narrow path, extending from the door to the whitened paling that separated ‘it from the highway, was tastefully laid out in parterres of flowers, indicating that the hand of woman had been their keeper. Still further back was the closely-kept green-sward, thickly studded with fruit-trees. In front of the door sat a lady attired in mourning, enjoying the delicious breeze of that beautiful afternoon. Motherly in her appearance, and dignified in her bearing, she at once impressed even a stranger agreeably. At the time we intro- duce her, she was busily employed with her needle; but, upon hearing the gate open, and the hurried approach of footsteps, she threw it aside, and arose to welcome her visitor. ae “Why, Ella, what has brought you here to-day? Pray sit ‘man, Woman, it is said, can discern character with accuracy ELLA’S FIRST GREAT TROUBLE. 18 down: Iam always glad to see you, for your visits relieve the monotony of my rather lonely life.” “T have come to you for advice, Mrs. Wilder,” exclaimed the young lady, entering at once upon the subject which lay so heavily upon her mind. “T trust you will not consider me too troublesome, for I always have to pour my joys and sorrows into your sympathizing ear.. I have nobody but you, besides Mrs. Adams; and in this case, I am not so sure that she would be the one to advise rightly, in this, my first great trouble.” “Well, Ella, what is now the matter ?” “Mr. Leneger has to-day spoken to me upon a serious subject, and in a manner more decided than he has ever yet addressed me. He wishes me to make up my mind to marry, and has saved me the trouble of choosing, by selecting the person whom I am to receive as my future husband.” “Tndeed ?” “Yes, and to the choice he has oa I can never be reconciled.” .“ Who is the person, Ella?” “His name is Tindale, a sugar-broker.” “ Ah, I have heard of him.” “Pray tell me, is he a good man 2” “T can only speak from hearsay, not from experience - Report has it that he is a man of unscrupulous character, where his will is thwarted, not hesitating to employ any means to accomplish his purposes. till, he is very rich, and the world accords to him its respect. He has largely to do with numbers of vessels which leave New Orleans, and my son tells me that some business transactions which he engages in are not in accordance with a strict character for integrity or propriety. Mr. Leneger, however, must know him well; and I think his love too great for you to allow your happiness to be intrusted to the keeping of a man utterly unworthy.” “But my guardian never, until to-day, addressed words to me approximating to harshness.” “He has ordered you to marry him ?” “T can’t say that it can be called a direct command.” “My advice to you, Ella, would be to carefully note the 14 : WRECK OF THE ALBION. Do not judge him harshly, if he does not come up to. yous standard of excellence. ‘reat him with the respect due his years, and with courtesy as your guest; but, should he wish to press his suit and hurry matters, then come to me, and we will counsel further” “Thank you, Mx. Wilder. I will try to act upon yom instructions,” replied Ella, as a load of anxiety seemed to lift from her heart. The two ladies remained sitting in silence for some little time, each occupied with her own thoughts. Ella finally raised her head from its reclining position, and asked: “Mrs. Wilder, when: do you expect your son to return, for he has been from home a long time, has he not?” “Yes, it is now nearly a year. His voyage has been longer than usual, owing to his cargo being consigned to several ports.” : “Tt is a long time since I have seen him—not since I was _ his little playmate, frolicking about on yonder green-sward. I don’t think I should recognize him were we to meet. When did you say he was to return ?” “He wrote that he should be in with his vessel a week ago, but as yet she has net arrived.” “Do you not feel alarmed at his remaining over his time ?” “Oh, no; fot, with a sailor, who is under the government of wind and wave, he can not en come and go as he may wish.” “How much I would like to see him, and hear him tell of his wanderings, and of the wonders of the ocean. Do you know, Mrs. Wilder, that I am quite a sailor myself?” “T have noticed that you have shown marked attention whenever I have spoken of the wandering life my boy leads, or when I have recounted the history of the many curiosities he has from time to time brought home, But, Ella, you may believe me, there is more pleasure in listening to matters pertaining to the ocean than in experiencing them in person.” “Did not my.tastes run in the channel they do,” said Ella, “T should consider it remarkably odd to find, in any of my friends, a fondness for nautical reading. Did it extend as far as mine, I should call it a study of navigation. Would you believe, Mrs. Wilder, I have even gone so fur as to work out, THE sAiLOR BOY A HOME. 15 by figures, a to find the time of sunrise and sunset, and also many other things hard for a'female to understand.” “J don’t think it strange, although I admit it is rare; and yet, why should you not be fond of reading of old Ocean? But your young eyes can see further than mine. _Look down the road and see who that person is coming toward the house.” Ella looked as directed, and saw a young man approaching with rapid strides. His garb bespoke him a sailor. Mrs. Wilder arose in some excitement, remarking : “Oh, if it should but prove to be Robert! It must be him! It is my boy, once more restored to me in safety !” “Dear mother,” exclaimed Wilder, as he bounded up the path and reached her side, throwing his arms around her, and imprinting a kiss upon her cheek with the warmth of devoted _ affection, “here is your Jack Tar, snug in port once more, all right in body and spirits. But excuse me,” he added, as his eye fell upon the young lady, “I thought you were alone, mother.” ; 2 Mrs. Wilder hastened to introduce them. “Tt is many a year since we have met, although I have seen Miss St. John a number of times since the days of her childhood... I am most happy to renew, the acquaintance,” he remarked, while his face glowed with a frank enthusiasm. “Thank you,” replied Ella; “but you have me at a dis- - either in for I do not remember haying met you of late years.” , “Tt was from a distance,” he replied, with some embarrass- ment. Then turning to his mother, he entered into conversa- tion with her, inquiring with interest about every thing appertaining to home. Robert Wilder and his mother had resided in the cottage ever since the death of his father. Well had he filled that. parent’s place by the care and comforts with which he sur- rounded his mother, while she looked up to him with a pride and affection second only to the love she bore her deceased - husband. She might well be pardoned for the feeling of pride with which she regarded her son. In personal appear- ance few persons possessed more grace and manliness. Five and twenty summers had he seen, yet the storms of his yoca- tion had left their impress upon his features witkout marring 16 WRECK OF THE ALBION. 3 their aarmony, rendering him in appearance somewhat older. His dress, of the kind usually worn by persons of his rank aboard ship, was arranged abot his pevson with the studied yet careless grace so remarkable to seamen. Ella, seeing that mother and son had much to say, arose +o retrace her steps homeward. Robert begged to accompany her, but, declining his offer, and bidding them adieu, she ran down. the walk, and was soon lost to sight. “Mis3 St. John is indeed a lovely girl,” he said, gazing after her retreating form. “You may, indeed, well say so, Robert, She is one seldom to be met with. It is the hope of my life to see you, my son, choose such a partner to take the place I now fill, when I & shall be laid by your father’s side.” “Do not talk thus, my mother,” he said; then, in a more "joyous tone, added: “I must say your choice would be mine; and why may I not try and win Ella herself; for as to her duplicate, I do not really think one exists ?” “Tt would be the height of absurdity—I was going to say, presumption.” “ And why, I would ask ?” @ ““ Simply because it would be an impossibility.” “Why, mother, nothing is impossible, when the] will to “accomplish is only strong, and determinedly carried out.” “You can not foresee, Robert, no matter how good the resolution, what circumstances may arise—and they present many a barrier impossible to surmount.” “Very true,” replied Robert. “But, mother, I will con- fide to you a secret, which will give you some surprise. I have loved Ella ever since the moment I arrived at the age to know what love meant, and I formed the resolution to win her, if I could. On my way home, I have been engaged in deliberating how % should make my first approaches, and formed plan after plan, only to be dropped as soon as thought of; so, at last, I have concluded to wait the chance of circum- stances, and seize the most favorable. I wish, dear mother you would give me your aid and counse}, and then = suc- cess need not be despaired of.” “As to aiding you, Robert, that is not in my power,” YOUTHFUL HOPES DASHED. 17 replied his m ther, looking sadly at him ; “ but my counsel you shail have, and I beseech you to act upon it. As I have already said, could Ella be your wife, nothing would cause me to feel more real joy ; but the thing can never be—it is simply ' beyond your power, or hers, combined, to bring it about. My advice is for you to forget her—to forget this love you have allowed to take root within your heart. Return to your vessel, mix in all the excitements of your vocation; but think not of her whom you can never wed. Embrace the many opportunities you have, as commander of a ship, to visit among refined and cultivated people, and from among the many ladies you will come in contact, select a wife. I know your choice will be a wise one.” y “JT can not forget Ella, mother. I have no wish to marry any other, save her. As to returning to sea again soon, that is also out of my power, as my ship is laid up for repairs, — which will be no short job. I must see Ella, and I~” “Stop!” interrupted his mother; “say nothing rash. You seem to think your love as warmly returned as felt, when you two have not met since her childhood. She knows nothing of the feelings you entertain. You must not let your love blind your reason. Think how mortified, how foolish you would feel, to visit her, only to find she cared nothing for you! Besides, Robert, Mr. Leneger is a man of strong aristocratis pride ; do you think he would consider you a desirable match for his ward? But, to end this useless discussion, I will tell. yeu something, my dear son, which will at once end your hepes, although it pains me to do so.” “Well, what is it?” he asked, looking anxiously at her. “Hila, from what I can gather, is already affianced.” Not a word did Robert reply.. His broad breast rose and fell with the feelings contending for mastery, and his head gradually sunk upon his hands. Mrs, Wilder regarded him in silence a moment, and well knowing the anguish she had inflicted, arose, and laying her hand upon his or seid : “Be a man, Robert! fet not this disappcintment Hels upon your spirits; but Jive and forget !” j “You ask in vain. Forget her!” he replied, bitterly. “ Your advice shall be taken, so far that I will cease to hope/” 18 WRECK OF THE ALBION. “May God help you and ‘bless you, my son! But come, let us go in, as the evening meal is ready ;’—and so saying, they entered the house. As Ella sauntered slowly homeward, she could not help thinking how different would have been her feelings if her guardian had chosen such a man as the widow’s son for her life partner. She had been favorably impressed with Wilder's appearance ; the free and easy grace of his manner had both pleased and surprised her; in him she recognized a true man. But, determining to obey the one who had been to her as a parent, unless his commands should prove too arbitrary, she proceeded on her way, trying to shutout thought. Her absorption did not allow her to observe a man who sat on a rock at a turn of the road, until close upon him. Raising her head, and uttering an exclamation of alarm, she started back a few paces. “ Heave ahead, young lady !” he growled, rather than spoke, in a voice whose tone seemed to have been borrowed from the many tempests through which he had passed. “Tom Swift don’t carry the prettiest figure-head in the world, but the ugly don’t go any deeper than the skin; so you can fill away, and keep on without finding me a snag to run against. It ain’t no use your giving your helm a sheer, for yow'll sail by me with a fair breeze.” “Tam not afraid of you,” replied Ella, reassured on finding she was addressing a sailor, and the very kind of a one she had been long anxious to meet. She determined to enter into conversation with him, and, if she could, prevail upon him to remain over night at her guardian’s house, where she could listen to his story at her leisure, for she felt sure he abounded in “yarns.” “Tm not afraid of you one particle,” she answered, looking at his honest, weather-beaten face; then added, “If you wili promise to remain seated just where you are, until we get better acquainted, I will sit and have a talk with you.” “You're a trim little body anyhow,” he replied; “and I’ promise to lay at anchor until you bid me heaye it in,” “ You are a sailor, I judge ?” “ yy es, Miss.” ES _——) go Rie ne ape seo as aes aiantaaal gs } i i : —— A REGULAR SEA-DOG. w “ How long is it since you returned from sea ?” “ Yesterday.” “And what brings you here, so far from: salt water? 1 thought you old salts could not be induced to go further from the ocean than would allow you to keep your larboard or starboard eye on it.” “And what do you know, Miss, about larboard and star: board ?” “Oh, I am a sailor in my way, and can tell you many a thing about a ship.” “T rather like you, Miss, for that,’ he said, bestowing an admiring glance on her. “As to your first question, of how I tacked out so far in these parts, you must know I’m human, Miss ; and you mustn’t think because I’m aboard ship so much, that I don’t like to lay my eyes on the fields and woods and hills of the country.” “ Have you no friends ?” she inquired. “J have, and many a score, for that matter; but they are scattered, Miss, in every part of the world.” “Then you know no one in this neighborhood ?” “Yes, Miss—a Mr. Wilder, by name.” “ Ab yy “You know him ?” . “Yes; I left his house but a few moments ago.” “Then I am on the right course. And how long a pull to get there from here? for I am getting a little old, and find I can’t stand on as long a tack as I once could.” “About a quarter of a mile—just rdund that turn of the road. But this Mr. Wilder—where did you ever become acquainted with him, and how do you like him ?” “T thought you said you knew him ?” “IT knew him a long time ago. I renewed the acquaint- ance only to-day.” “Tm glad to hear he’s home, for I am wanting to ship with him. I’ve sailed with him, Miss, many a voyage; and a bet- ter seaman than he is never trod the deck of a ship. I don’t know the man that wouldn’t go with him again, that ever sailed with him once. You can take a chap, Miss, who has uailed, ever since his birth, as a blockhead, and put him un-— der Mr. Wilder, and if he’s with him long enough, he’ll nrake 20 THE WRECK OF THE ALBION. . a newman of him. You should see and hear him when a storm’s on hand. I have sailed, man and boy, hard on fifty years, under many a gray-haired captain; and when I first shipped under Mr. Wilder, I thought him something young- like; but I soon found out that he knew more than all the rest.” “ Then, if you liked him, as you say, why did you leave his ship ?” “ Because I was a fool, and men are apt to do foolish things very often in their lives. You see, Mr. Wilder runs what is called a regular course—that is, goths from one port to another, and back again; and after a bit, I made up my mind I wanted to see some other es so I left him, and have been away hard on two years.” “ As he has but just returned, it hy be a long time before he starts on another voyage, and would you be content to wait on shore until he is ready ?” “T don’t know how that will be,” replied the man, rising” at last from his seat. “Mr. Wilder has hardly had time to see his mother yet,” hastily remarked Ella, for she had taken a fancy to the man’s honest face, and was bent upon his going home with her. “You know,” she resumed, “ Mr. Wilder has not seen his mother for a long time, and they must have much to say to each other. Had you not better go with me? for, I can assure you, you will be equally as well cared for.” “You are very good to ask a stranger to your house; but don’t you suspect I might not be honest 2” “T don’t think, were you otherwise than honest, you would have been retained in Captain Wilder’s employ; besides, I think you carry a good recommendation, as to character, in your face.” “Thank you, Miss, for your good opinion. I guess I'll go with you,” he added ; and they both started toward the spin ation mansion. “What did you say your name was ?” she asked, after they had proceeded a short distance. “Tom Swift, Miss.” “Tom, you were saying you thought the Captain rather young when you first sailed with him: how was it you learned a — THE SEAMAN’S FORMULA. 21 to form such a great opinion as to his superior ablities as a seaman ?” ere “Why, Miss,” he replied, hesitatingly, as if not liking te speak upon this subject, because it somewhat reflected upon his own knowledge of working a vessel, “it was simply a matter of reefing topsails in stays.” “ Will you tell me all about it? for you must know, Tom, I am very fond of listening to sailors’ yarns.” “Well, you’re a queer body, Miss, sartain!” a pleased smile spreading over his hard, weather-beaten face. ‘And so long as you must know, I'll tell you. Iwas standing one day, leaning against the mizzen-mast, humming over a bit of an old song, when up walked the Captain to where I was stand- ing, and asked me how I thought the weather would haul. You see, I was a favorite with him from the start. When I told him, he asked me what I was singing; and perhaps you would like to hear it, Miss?’ added Tom. “ By all means,” answered Ella, smiling. “ Well, then, this was it,’ and he began, with a deep but not unmelodious voice, the following stanza: “ Away aloft,” when the helm is put down; ‘‘ Lower away the topsails,” as the mainyard flies round ; “Trice up,” and “lay out,” and “take two reefs in one; For all in one moment this work must be done, »\ Then” man your head-braces, your halyards, and all, And as you “ hoist away the topsail,” you “let go and haul.” “ What fault could he find with that?” asked Ella. g “ He said he knew of a better way; so I asked him what it was. Says he, You had better lower away the topsails when you raise tacks and sheets, and lay the yards square. To haul the mainyard at the proper time, and not care for the men on it, if, he said, the topsail braces are kept taut. See the reefs taken in, snug and tight ; hoist the topsails when the men were of the yards, and haul off all, as we would do. I see at once, Miss, that he understood himself, and I never give myself another thought, from that day to this, of his want of years.” By this time the house was reached, and Ella noticed, much to her chagrin, that Tindale was still there. He immediately communicated the unwelcome news that he purposed remain- ing the rest of the evening. Mr. Leneger did not evince much WRECK OF THE ALBION. surprise at seeing Ella’s companion, when he found him to be a sailor ; but, willing to humor her tastes, entered into con- versation with him; while Tindale forced himself upon Ella, who had thrown herself wearily upon a seat. “A singular companion you have chosen for your walk,” he remarked, as he seated himself beside her. “It is a chance acquaintance I picked up on the roadside, upon my return from a short walk,” she replied, with dig- nity. “TI held some little conversation with him, and found him plain and honest; so I have asked him to the house.” “T should have been most happy to have accompanied you in your stroll, had I known you purposed going,” he said. “J really, sir, was not aware that you purposed remaining with us so long,” she replied; “I concluded your visit to be ae ences and was sure my presence could be dispensed aia “T am tied down too much to business; in fact, the very word is unpleasant to me. I often sigh for the green fields and wild woods of the country; and long for the day when, with a companion suited to my tastes, I shall lay aside forever the cares that now beset me, and spend the rest of my life in making those around me happy—more especially her who shall unite her destiny with mine. I am well aware, Miss St. John,” he continued, “that my person is rather plain; nor are my manners altogether suited to the society of the young and gay. My age might also prove an objection; but, should J be so fortunate as to induce some lady to place her happiness in my keeping, I feel positive she never would repent the choice. Wealth I possess in abundance, and with it, I could pave her path through life with golden joys.” “But joys of such a nature,” answered Ella, hardly know ing what to say, and yet feeling called upon to speak, “ arw not permanent; they please the eye and gratify the pride but fall far short of bringing what the heart longs for, and which is so essential to the true happiness of wedded life.” “That may all be true; but I hope you are not so roman- tic as to advocate ‘love in a cottage? ” “T am an advocate for pure, unselfish love, be it in the palace or the cottage,” she replied. “Oh, how much »aore happy is che woman wedded to the object of her ehoice, even et SS TOM’S OPINION OF ELLA’S PAINTING. 23 though humble and lowly be their home, than the oue linked to a man she can not love, were she surrounded with ail that gold could give. Indeed, how false it is, Mr. Tindale, to gild the surface of our lives, thinking that by it we can gloss over all the ills of life, and arrive at the source of true hap- piness.” : “Upon my word,” he said, smiling at her enthusiasm, “ but you entertain views all do not hold’ Then, changing his tone, he added: “ But you are right. Let us in life supply the heart with its true food, and we shall attain happiness.” Could this man, Ella thought to herself, mean what he said ? Tindale was upon the point of renewing the conversation, when Mr. Leneger joined them. How far the sugar-broker would have been tempted to speak on the subject uppermost in his thoughts, can not be said. As it was, however, he knew that he had spoken so pointedly, that Ella could not well misunderstand what was said was but an introduction to a formal offer of his hand to herself. “On my word, Ella,’*remarked the guardian, “ but your sailor companion is rather an intelligent man, after all. Rough in voice and uncouth in manner, he yet possesses much infor- mation gathered from travel. I asked him in to pass sentence on that picture which you lately painted.” They entered the parlor, where they found Tom looking very earnestly at the picture in question. “Well, what do you think of it ?” asked Ella. “Tt’s a pretty picture, Miss ; but—” “Well, what is it, Tom? Point out its defects,” said Mr. Leneger. “ As to the ship herself, she looks like a neat craft; a little too high astern is all I see out of sorts; but, by the looks of those clouds, and the way the sea seems rising,” said he, point- ing out the two objects specified, “and by which the lady means to have a gale springing up, for I see men on her yards, she carries too much sail; besides, her canvas ought to have been stowed long ago.” “Please tell me which sails she should have set, for I can easily paint them out,” remarked Ella, _ “ Well, Miss, if I can make out the bearings correetly, the wind is east and by south, or dead off land, if that dark Ene SS A SS Sl lS 24 WRECK OF THE ALBION, streteh here away,” he pointed to the back-ground of the picture, “is meant for that. Now, Miss, the ship is carrying too much sail, as I said; and my advice would be, to have the three topsails and the jib stowed, and for the matter of that, her mainsail had better be furled; for, Miss, no sea- man looking on this picture, begging your pardon, but would see it was faulty—that is, if I take the wind right, which I would say was puffy from the looks of this painted water.” To Mr. Leneger this language was not all intelligible, but Ella insisted upon Tom’s pointing out the errors once more, so that she could fix them in her mind distinctly, although she insisted upon it that Tom had the wind blow much harder than was intended. After he had finished examining the picture, Tom was shown to his supper. When the family had partaken of their meal, they again entered the parlor. Lilla, after remaining with them for a time, excused herself, and went in search of Mrs. Adams. As her footsteps died away in the distance, Tindale again abruptly returned to* the subject uppermost in his mind: “Since our conversation this afternoon, I have myself con- versed with Ella, and from the tenor of her remarks, I take it she will not very willingly consent to become my wife.” “Ah?! exclainted Mr. Leneger, in surprise, “ what was her answer ?” : “Jt is useless for me to repeat the conversation which passed between us. Suffice it for me to say, that both her words and manner lead me to suppose she will reject my sait. ily remarks were very pointed, and I saw she understood for whom I meant them; and she in like manner. gave her arswers. Had I made an out-and-out proposal, I should now be under the mortification of having been refused. The month I gave you for reflection is only a useless waste of time, and I must have your answer this very night. If it is favorable, I will give you at once, in black and white, an agreement to this effect: The payment of the first debt, now overdue, I will never claim, and the day that sees me married I will receipt to you for it. From the second payment, I will deduct: twenty-five per cent., and wait for the balance till your present crop, or even your second, is gathered, “With ar a THE BARGAIN CONSUMMATED. 25 thia offer you will still retain your property, and I shall con- sider myself fully paid—yes, even in your debt.” For a long time the planter remained lost in thought. A fierce struggle was taking place between the duty he owed his poy ward and the recollection of the only promise exacted by the dying soldier of him, and his own pride and avarice. ; “JT have a promise to exact, and you must agree to it, or else I shall let you beggar me,” he said, after a long silence, and with pain stamped on every lineament of his face.. “ ‘What is it?” “ For the space of three months, you must not show your face to Ella.” “Very good—I will promise.” “Write the agreement.” The necessary implements being at hand, it was soon written, and handed to the planter. A human being was wv bought and sold. “The original plan I spoke of better be adhered to,” remarked Tindale—‘t that of sending her to Baltimore !” “T ask time for that very purpose, and have arranged my plans. My old friend, Captain Williams, sails with his ship, the Albion, in the course of three weeks, I shall arrange to have Ella go with him. He is a safe man and his craft is a staunch one.” A rustling at the window, near where they sat, caused both to start, and glance anxiously in that direction. “We have been overheard !” exclaimed Tindale, rising and I jooking out, as also did the planter. i After gazing for some time, an old house-dog issued from among the bushes, and made toward the other end of the | building. oo “Pooh, ’twas but the dog,” said Leneger, and both devia a | long breath as though very much relieved. Reseating them- selves, they remained closely absorbed in conversation, until the hour of retiring arrived. , WRECK OF THE ALBION. OMAP TER LEY, PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT. “ How did you pass the night, Tom?” inquired the young lady the following morning, as she started to take her custom- ary walk, and seeing the sailor seated on the lower step of the stoop. “ : “Very well, thank you, Miss,” he replied. “ But, if it ain’t asking too much, I’d like to walk with you, to get the kinks out of my old body afore breakfast.” “Most certainly you may. I intended asking you,” and they started. “ Miss, who’s that chap—I beg pardon—I meant the gen- X@man who stopped at the house last night?” he asked, as ‘acy proceeded on some distance. “is name is Mr. Tindale, a very rich man, who resides in ‘e city,” she replied. “ What kind of a man is be?” “ Report speaks well of him.” The sailor shook his hed. “Why do you do so?” Ella asked, noticing the action. “ Because I don’t like him.” “ Why 7 : *Can’t say, Mise; it’s a feeling I’ve got. I don’t like the cut of bis jib. De you like him?” “T respect him as a friend,” ‘she replied. “Miss Ella,” ha began, in a voice whose tone carried so much earnestness, that it caused her to look up, “you won't think hard of an old man if he makes a little free on so short an acquaintance, but what I want to ask you is, are you going to marry that man ?” “Why no, Tom,” she answered. with a Jaugh; “what induced you to ask such a question ?” “TJ saw him talking with you, aad I know he'd have ne objections if you didn’t.” “Tam aware of that fact, but is Sx cll that induced you to ask the question ?” 5 TOM’s GOOD-BY. 27 | “ Perhaps it isn’t; but I can’t say any more about it.” “Do you go to Captain Wilder’s to-day, or will you spend it with me?” she asked. “T shall go, for I must find out how soon i starts. What do you think of the Captain?” “He is a fine-looking man, and ‘is, I know, a good son his mother loves him dearly.” “ And well she may,” answered the seaman, “ for a better young man can’t be found. I wish, Miss, that when he-mar- ries, he may find as good a lady as you are for his wife.” . “T am sure I thank you, Tom, for your flattering opinion _ of me; and, for the young man, I only hope he may find a far better companion for life than I would make.” Tom continued talking, interspersing his queries now and then with some yarn, mentioning Wilder as often as possible. It would seem as if the sailor was trying what he could do at match-making. Thus they familiarly conversed, until their return. After the morning meal, the sailor passed round to the front of the house, where Ella and her guardian were seated. At the end of the porch he noticed a piece of paper lying under a bush, where it had evidently been carried by the wind. Picking it up, he turned it repeatedly from side to side, then with a shake of the head, muttered : “This is a sort of reckoning I can’t make out; but, per- haps it's what I want, so I’ll take it down to the Captain’s.” Thrusting it into one of the capacious pockets of his seaman’s jacket, he approached the front of the house. “T come to say good-by, and thank you for your kindness,” he said, as he came up. “Why do you go so early, my man? I should be pleased to have you stay longer,” replied Mr. Leneger. “A sailor can’t stay long, sir, in one place, but keeps shifting his berth till death bids him cast his anchor in nis last harbor. Good-by, sir, and you, too, Miss.” Elia arose, and going down the steps, gave him her hand. Be took it, and raising it to his lips, said, while his ares filled -with tears: “Should you hear any one say, Miss, a sailor’s got no heart, don’t you believe them, for the sake of the old man 28 WRECK OF THE ALBION. who holds your hand. I love you, Miss, as well as if you were my Own child, though I ain’t known you long, and I pray God may bless you, and break the dark cloud that’s coming in your seaboard. You'll see me, I think, soon again,” - then letting his voice sink to a low tone, added: “Never look over a ship’s taffrail to see her cutwater, and when there is plenty of sea-room, I’m always in favor of scudding.” So saying, he turned and hurried away. Ella remained standing where he had left her, wrapt in thought. What could he mean? “A dark cloud rising in her seaboard?” Then again, his advice, which she under- | stood to mean, first, always to expect an event to come from the right quarter, and never to look in the wrong place to find a thing. As to the latter part of the advice, it seemed to mean always to make the best use of one’s time, when the moment offered. How all this was to apply to her case, she could not tell. She continued pondering, until aroused by the call of Mr. Leneger. “Ella, I intend sending you to Baltimore,” he said, ab- ruptly. “Mr. Leneger !” she exclaimed, in astonishment. “Tt is so,” he replied. ‘I have thought of doing so for a long time, and have at last considered it’ best.” “For what purpose ?” “For several reasons. “You will be much improved by the society you will there mingle in. You also require one year’s more close application to books, before you assume the responsible position we each sooner or [ater are called upon to fulfill in life. I have consulted with a friend, and he thinks it also best for your future interest to go. A vessel will sail in a short time direct for that city, and to-morrow I will secure your passage.” “T am well aware,” she replied, “that you, my dear guard- jan, are constantly alive to my interests, and are eager for my advancement; but I can not see the necessity or propriety of sending me for a year to school. You are now requiring the hand of one who loves you to be constantly near to attend to your wants to minister to you—when sickness shall afflict you. Oh, my dear guardian,” she continued, laying her hand confidingly on his shoulder, and adding with ELLA TO BE SENT TO BALTIMORE. 29 sincerity: “do not let this notion you have taken drive me away; let me stay here and be with you. May I not stay ?” The strong man hesitated, moved as he was by her gentle appeal; but it was only for a moment. Pride came to render his resolution firm again. “ My child,’ he answered, “you may be all you say—nay, J will admit you are; but there is one thing I possess which you can not have until time brings it, that is; experience. With it on my side, you must admit I am the best judge of these matters.. I wish you to go to Baltimore. You have always obeyed me in whatever I have advised, knowing I have only your good at heart; let not this present step be the exception.” «I shall obey you, sir,” she meekly replied, fixing her eyes on the ground; “and yet, I will be candid in saying I do most certainly feel rebellious.” % “Before the time shall arrive for you to gail, you will dis- cover how wrong you are in that fecling.” “What is the vessel’s name I sail in?” she asked. “The Albion, and well does she deserve the name, for a stouter craft, or a more loyal Captain, are not- met with on the high seas.” “And am Ito go alone? Can not you go with me?” “Not at the present time; but rest assured that you will be equally as well cared for as if I were with you. I have some business to arrange,-and as soon as that is done I shall follow you, for I intend residing North this coming winter. You perfectly understand it, Ella—you sail in the course of a few weeks, a month at the furthest; so, like the good girl you have ever been, let me see you acquiesce willingly.” “But am I to have noé companion until you come ?” “None that I now know of, though you will find several friends on board the ship who will see that you spend your time pleasantly. ‘Your studies will absorb much attention, for you must promise to apply yourself ardently for the ‘year to come. Milly shall go with you as your attendant, and you will find her a faithful servant.” “The matter about which you spoke to me this morning is, then, relinquished, I am led to believe ?” “You refer to the suit of Mr. Tindale ?” 80 WRECK OF THE ALBION, ‘Yes, sin? “By no means,” he replied, positively. “As soon as you complete your year, we will speak of it again; his business calls him to Baltimore often, and during his visits he will cal on you.” Ella made no reply, but entered the house to ponder on the alarming change in her affairs. Her first thought was of seeing Mrs. Wilder again, to inform her of this new trouble. Upon leaving the house, Tom proceeded rapidly, until he was out of sight, when, relaxing his pace, and letting his head fall on his breast, he seemed lost in thought. “But that’s a precious job,” he muttered to himself. “A seaman’s curse light on them for a double-faced pair of devils. A lucky stretch I made-of it when I brought up under the lee of that window, and heard their plans about the girl. But, Tom Swift,” he continued, after a short silence, “you ain’t the man to see a mean trick done’if you can help it.. But, how to get under way I don’t know. If she did but only love the Captain, I’d heave them around, face to a parson, and make a splice, and so run them aboard in that way; but the worst on it is, she ain’t seen him but once, and don’t seem to care for him, either.” Thus he continued to talk until Wilder cottage was reached, Seated by the door was the young man and his mother. “And so you are getting tired of your present vessel ?” said Mrs. Wilder. _ : “No, not tired of her, for I feel much attached to the old ship, but I want to visit other ports; in fact, it is now abso- lutely necessary. Coming home so frequently I should be very likely to see Miss St. John, and ét would only revive the © feeling I have promised you to try and forget.” “But, Robert, you must not lose sight of me. Remember - you have a mother who is always eager to welcome you home with affection. . How dreary I should be, waiting month after month—perhaps for yeas for your return.” She was moved to tears, and Robert pressed her hand in silence. Their attention was arrested by approaching steps. ‘ But who have we here?” the young man exclaimed, as his eye fell on the figure of the seaman, WILDER LEARNS SOME STARTLING FACTS. 31. “A sailor, who knows how to knot or reef-point, and pass a gasket, and is sorry to meg he is already hull down in the seaboard of your memory.” “But one who is lifting fast,” replied ‘Wilder, speaking after ‘*e seaman’s manner; “and now that his courses show, I would, ay his name is down on the ship’s books as Tom Swift.” “You've made out my bunting aright, sir,’ replied the man, grasping the hand of his former commander; and remoy- ing his tarpaulin, he made an awkward bow, accompanied with a scrape of his foot, to Mrs. Wilder, inquiring after her health. “My mother is well,’ answered the young man, “and so am I, Tom; but what brings you in this part of the world 2” “T shipped, sir,’ replied the sailor, ‘at Boston, for this port of Orleans, where the vessel was to load for Liverpool; but I knew you loved a short stretch out, and filled away for here.” / “Tam glad to see you, Tom, and what can I do for you?” “Take me aboard your ship, sir.” “That I most willingly will do; but you will be obliged to wait longer perhaps than you care to, for she is undergoing repairs.” “That's bad, sir, for I ain’t the man to lay around port long; but I’ve made up my mind to go with you.” “Did you leave the city this morning? I myself came only yesterday.” “T up anchor, and made way on yesterday, sir, but some- thing better than half a mile, I take it, from here, I meta young indy, who took me in tow, and I stayed the night at her house.” “Tt must have been Miss St. John,” said Wilder, turning to his mother; and then, again addressing the seaman, asked : “Did you learn her name ?” “ Ella was the first, but the last I don’t remember.” “ And 7 stayed at Mr. Leneger’s all night ?” “ Yes, sir.’ “Well, Tom, how were you treated ?” “T was treated well enough, but it ain’t so with all.” What do you mean?” asked Wilder, while his mother also looked up from her work. | . $2 WRECK OF THE ALBION. “ You see, sir,’ began the sailor, “I’ve taken an uncommon 7 ? liking to the young lady, and I reckon she did to me, and so, I asked some questions that perhaps I hadn’t ought to. I found out there was a chap at the house who wanted to use the rest of his life in her company, and she hadn’t any otion that he should. _Howsomever, I found out that Mr. Leneger wanted it should be so; and, more than that, sir, was shaping things to make it so. I was asked in the parlor to make out the bearings of a painted ship, and, after having a long yarn to spin, I went out. I sat me down, sir, under a window, before turning in, and was about leaving again, when I heard voices, and found out, before. many minutes, that the two men were planning something about Miss Ella. This, sir, made me listen, and I heard them bargain-that if Mr. Tindale would not make Mr. Leneger pay some money he owed him, he should marry Miss Ella. They had some writings between them. What is on this piece of paper?” he asked, as he drew from his pocket and handed to Wilder the slip which he had found underneath the bush. The young man glanced at it, and then handed it to his mother. After she had read it, she said, solemnly : “Robert, this must not take place. It is simply a sale.of flesh and blood—a barter of happiness for a lifetime. I would not believe Mr. Leneger capable of such an act; but, as to Tindale, he is a man of unprincipled character. It is like him. I shall see Ella if I can, and warn her of what they contemplate.” The opportunity was never offered. “JT echo your words, mother; they shall not do so vile an act,” said Wilder, his eye flashing fire. “Turning to Tom he added, abruptly, and in a tone of Gorammands, “Come with me!” After proceeding until beyond the age and ear cf his mother, he stopped. “You have known me long, Tom, and I have all confidence in you. I will make you a confidant. Miss St. John I have loved _long and fondly, and once held to the hope of winning her love in return. . But that dream is over,” he said, mournfully, removing his heavy sea-cap, and pushing the heavy hair back from his brow. ‘I have promised my mother to forget my > > TOM’S PLAN. 38 aspirations, and will try to do go, if it brings death. But this great evil I can not see done without an effort to save her. This right I possess as a friend, and, a8 such, I will act. You have shown much ready wit in days past, and also a quick- ness to act; can not you help me now with a suggestion ?” “Indeed, I can, Captain,’ quickly replied the seaman, apparently glad to see the young man enter with so much will, ~~ into the very thing he intended to try alone. “TI can help’ you, Mr. Wilder.” ~* “Then speak at once.” “T heard them say that Miss Ella was to go to Baltimore.” “ Ah f” “Yes, sir; and that, too, in something less than a month.” “ And the ship’s name she goes by—did you hear that ?” “Tt was the Albion.” “Her Captain ?” ¢ * “Ts called Williams.” “JT do not know either him or his vessel, ” remarked the young man, after a moment’s pause. The seaman, seeing his companion at a loss how to proceed, replied : “You have said, sir, that I know a thing or two, and may- haps, if you'll let me pull stroke-oar a while, Pll fetch up against some plan.” “Proceed,” was the quick command. “T heard of this ship afore I cleared for here, and as I waa ~ asking about her officers, I found out that she is in want of a first mate. Now, sir, as you are out of the command of your vessel for a while, you might try for that berth; and may I play a game of tag with sharks, sir, if you don’t get it. On the voyage out you can see the young lady, and show her, In black and white, how matters are, and have time to fix things to her liking. You won’t be gone so long but you can be back to take your own ship again; and then) sir, Pll sail with you till God fouls my anchor, so as to stop my cruise of life forever.” P “Your plan is good, Tom, and I'll act upon it,” replied Wilder. “Do so at once, sir,” returned the seaman. “ Aléough it is sometimes hard for a ship to get a good officer In theve 46 2 A 84 WRECK OF THE ALBION. parts now-a-days, I would advise you to make fast to the berth at once, because it might be. taken, and you would scarcely ship before the mast, even to do her such a service.” “Very true, Tom. . On the morrow we will go to the city to seek the Captain. What kind of a craft is she—that is, provided you have seen her ?” “She’s tidy enough,” replied Tom; and with him that was a description of a vessel that filled his eye. “You will keep this a secret from even my mother, ? remarked Wilder, as they returned to the house; “for she might think 1, »erhaps, a foolish undertaking ; but we wil) save Miss Ella trom the power of this Tindale yet.” \ CHAPTER IV. THE FIRST OFFICER. By the early dawn the inmates of the cottage were astir, and, after partaking of the morning meal, Wilder ani the sailor started for the city. During the walk very little was said. Numerous were the attempts made by Tom to open a conversation, but the brief responses of Wilder soon convinced the sailor that his superior had n¢ the inclination to talk. The promises the young man had made the previous day regarding Ella seemed to impress him with their grave responsibility. The station of first mate on board the ship in which she intended sailing, and which he was now starting to secure, might have been filled, as such an office very seldom remains open for any great length of time in a city so large as New Orleans. If such was the case, his determination was to go as a passenger, rather than have the vessel sail without: him. Reaching the outskirts of the city, they shaped their course directly for the levee, where Wilder, having secured 4 boat, seated himself in the stern-sheets, while Tom tocx possession of the oars. “Give way, man, give way!” ordered Wilder, dropping, as if by habit, the late familiar tone and manner, as he felt PULEING FOR THE ALBION. — 35 himself once more floating on what, with a sailor, can almost be called his native element. The man, as if use had made this change of conduct a mat’ ter of course, uttered no reply, but by a powerful application of his muscular arms to the oars, sent the boat swiftly toward the vessel. “T hope, sir,” he at length said, respectfully, for he felt as if Wilder was his officer now in reality, “that you'll not for- get to have Tom Swift’s name among that ship’s crew,” motioning with his head toward the Aljion, which lay at ner moorings, a short distance ahead. “JT will not forget you,” replied the young man, “ for I feel as if I should require your services again, in maneuvering for me on dry land.” “And do you know, sir, that’s the very thoughts that are getting in my head this moment? I don’t know, Mr. Wilder, but it’s my opinion, we're going to fetch up at some port we little expect to at this time. I’m a rough-spoken man, sir, and never was inside of a school-house in my life, and don’t know any more about letters or learning than a monkey does the difference between a bucket-rope and a rope’s-end; but I’ve got a thing or two stowed away in my head-piece which will leak out, and as I said, sir, we'll fetch up at some port, either with or without this ship, that we never cruised for.” “You think the vessel will not reach Baltimore ?” The seaman merely shook his head, and letting his oar- blades float on the water, glanced behind him to ascertain how far they yet were distant from the ship. A boat propelled by four men had passed them but a moment before, and as the seaman was about to resume his oars, Wilder bade him look at the figure of one of the passengers, and notice if he did not ‘ resemble Mr. Leneger. “That’s him,” replied Tom, after fixing his eye on the per- son indicated, “ but he’s stirring early this morning, and you won’t board, sir, while he is there ?” “No, we will have to wait,” replied the young man, “ for I should not lye able to see the Captain until he leaves. But give way again; we will amuse ourselves, meanwhile, by a ag at the shipping.” _ For fuli an hour were the young man and his companion WRECK OF THE AZBION. obliged to wait until Mr. Leneger reappeared on the ship’s deck, and descended into his boat. Every thing had met his approbation, and a passage secured for’ Ella and her maid. ' After floating on the current until the boat containing the lady’s guardian had withdrawn from sight, Wilder again gave the order to proceed. The ship’s side was soon reached. Here Wilder ordered the seaman to await his return, and clambered to the deck. “Js your Captain on board?” be inquired of the man on watch. “You will find him in his cabin, sir,” was the answer. Thither he repaired, and found himself in the presence of the person he was anxious to see. “ Captain Williams, I believe,” he said, removing his cap, and bowing politely as he spoke. “That is my name,” replied the Captain, looking up from a chart he was studying. ‘“ What is your pleasure?” “T learn, sir, you are deficient of a first officer, and present myself as an applicant for that office.” “You are young, sir, but that is not against you, for some of the best seamen I have ever met were ae thirty. You are less than that by some years, I should say.” “ My age, sir, is twenty-five.- As to my capabilities, these papers will testify.” The Captain, glancing over them with a careful eye for me time, passed them back, and motioning Wilder to a seat, said: “They speak well of you, sir. I am in want of a first ' officer, and one on whom I can implicitly rely, for I am get- ting wellin years. I think you are the man for me. Before speaking more definitely, I would like to test your qualities | and promptness by asking a question or two. If you are a true sailor, you will not feel, by my so doing, that I doubt for one moment your abilities.” pe “ With pleasurs, sir; I will answer any question you may ask. J do not say ‘I willif I can, but speak most positively that I will, for aship was my cradle, and I love old ocean as well as the landsman does the woody hills of his gg place. ” “ Spoken hice tide seaman, a8 I see no reason to doubt ——_ o> Nt See oA. = \ THE CANDIDATE'S EXAMINATION. 3? you are. Now mark what I say:. You are in command of a vessel, and have lost all your anchors but one, and even that has but one arm; you wish to come to an anchor; how wil! you let it go, Mr. Wilder, to insure it’s taking ground ?” and he gazed hard at the young man as he put the question. “That is easily answered,” replied Wilder, without a mo- ment’s hesitancy. ‘First, I should cock-bill the anchor be- fore going in, and hang it from the cat-head by a hawser through the ring, and reeve the buoy-rope through a block on the bowsprit ; then, sir, I should shorten sail, and when the ship had gathered sternway, ease the anchor down square by the hawser and buoy-rope, with the fluke forward; then, sir, when it reached the bottom, I should veer the cable, and, as soon as I found it held, unreeye the: hawser and stream the buoy.” “ Right, Mr. Wilder. You will answer to command any craft that floats, and glad, yes, sir, lam proud to have you my officer. But, you will humor me by answering ohe more question ?” he asked, apparently to please himself. “With pleasure, Captain.” “Your ship now is supposed to be Iytiig close to a lee shore,” he began, again narrowly watching the features of the young man. “It blows too heavy for you to warp off, and the shore lies toonear for you to weigh and make sail in the manner usually adopted. Now, sir, how would you go about leaving your anchorage ?” Before making answer to this inquiry, the young man spent some moments in silence. At length, as a smile passed over his features, he replied. “You ask me a question, which, for a time, would puzzle older heads than mine to answer without a moment’s thought. My plan would be this: “I should first pass a stream-cable forward on the side of the tack which I intended to stand on, and shackle it to the bower cable in or outboard, as I should consider the most convenient; then, sir, I should have the men stationed in readiness to make sail, and I need hardly add, to take such reefs as would be deemed necessary. Then, man the topsail sheets and halyards, first, however, having braced the yards nearly a point forward, I then should wait until the wind lulled, and seize the opportunity to veer gently on the cable, 88 WRECK OF THE ALBION. heaving round on the stream until I had the wind nearly abeam, when I should sheet home and hoist the topsails. ‘When this was accomplished, every thing should be made ready to successfully slip the cables, man the lee braces, mizzen sheet, and foretopmast staysail halyards ; then, sir, brace up, hoist away, and haul aft. And to finish my work, in a few words, I should man the fore and main tacks, slip the cables, and haul aboard! Captain Williams, have I answered you satisfactorily ?” : “Ma. Wilder, your answer may be gathered, when I say you are my first mate.” ‘He arose, and shaking the young man warmly by the hand, motioned toward the necessary papers to sign, and a fow moments later served to place Wilder first officer of the good ship Albion. “You no doubt have had many applications for the berth you consider me capable of filling, and I noticed, as I ap- proached, a boat leave the ship’s side, which perhaps con- tained an applicant,” remarked Wilder, during the course of conversation that ensued. 3 “No, sir,” replied the Captain. “The gentleman you saw was Mr. Leneger, who intends to send by me his ward, Miss Ella St. John. His purpose in visiting me was to secure her a passage. Perhaps, Mr. Wilder, you are acquainted with the lady ?” : _ “T have seen her,” carelessly replied the young man, “and report speaks of her being a superior woman.” “And it says true, fora more lovely woman can not be found. You must have a care of your heart, for her eyes are amore formidable battery to the courage of a young sailor than those of a man-of-war.” “Fear not for me, sir; like the majority of seamen, I have been knocked about so much as to have very little heart left, or if I have, rough weather has, like my face, made it hard. But, from your manner of speaking of the young lady, I should judge you well acquainted with not only herself, ut with her guardian ?” “Tam, Wilder, and toward Mr. Leneger I am attached by the most pleasing recollections, together with sincere friandship. His hespitable mansion is always thrown open mons ALL HANDS UP ANCHOR. 39 for my accommodation. Mr. Leneger is a man of true worth —too high-minded to stoop to any thing dishonorable.” “T have no acquaintance with the gentleman,” simply replied Wilder, not caring to undeceive the Captain. “But T must retire for the day. Will you require my presence to. . morrow ?” : “T think not, sir,” was the reply ; “you may leave me your address, and when I wish to see you, I will send you word dy my boy.” “Before leaving, I wish you to have a seaman, whom I can recommend, numbered among the ship’s company. You have not your crew all chosen, sir ?” “T have room for your man. What is his name?” “Tom Swift; do you wish to see him ?” “No, sir, your recommendation is sufficient.” Bidding his superior a good-day, Wilder was soon seated im the small boat. To the numerous questions of the seaman, Wilder’s replies were characteristic of the station he now filled, and without many remarks, after the shore was reached, they proceeded homeward. CHAPTER. Y. AT SEA. Tur moment of starting had arrived, and the ship awaitéd bat the arrival of Ella and her guardian. ‘Wilder, to all out ward appearances, was calm, yet his breast was torn by con- tending emotions. His orders were issued in a decided, ringing tone, and all, even to the oldest seamen, felt that they possessed in him a man capable of commanding the ship, did aught befall their Captain. As the boat containing the fair passenger touched the ves- sel’s side, and Ella was assisted on deck, he walked forward, so as to prevent her noticing him. “To you, Captain Williams,” said Mr. Leneger, as he was — about leaving for the shore, “I aszign the charge of my ward until her arrival at Baltimore.” , 40 WRECK OF THE ALBION, “ And rest assured, all the comforts my ship contains shall be at her disposal,” replied the Captain. “She will have friends meet her, and relieve me of her charge, as soon as we reach that port 2” “Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Leneger. Extending his hand, he bade Captain Williams good-by, with the earnest wish for a, safe and speedy passage. Ella descended to her cabin after parting with her guardian. Her feelings were too deeply excited even to allow of her gratifying her curiosity in seeing how a vessel was got under way. She had a foreboding that all was not right, though nothing had transpired especially calculated to excite her alarm. 7 The crew, meanwhile, were waiting the order to get under way. “We but wait your order, sir,” said Wilder, addressing tne Captain. “Get your anchor, sir; we will be moving.” “ Ay, ay, sir! All hands up anchor!” The change produced on the vessel’s deck was instantane- ous. Those of the crew who were already on their feet hastened to their posts, while many, who were lying under the shade of her masts or bulwarks, sprung hastily to their feet. There was no confusion, no jostling against each other ; all seemed to know their place, and at ence sought it. “The tramp of many feet, the clanking of the windlass, the rude refrain “ Yo-heave a’ho!” timing their exertions with their spikes, made the deck merry in an exciting degree. Wilder stood by, observing all closely, until the voice of an under efficer called out: “We're brought to, sir!” - “ Heave round,” was the order. “Ay, ay, sir! heave round it is.” Again the windlass was in motion; the measured push and pull was resumed, together with the song. “We're short, sir.” “Let go the bottom; heave round lively, lads.” The anchor was soon hove in and catted, and the vesse. begah slowly-to drop down the river with the current. She glided by the shores, with their hanes here and there enlivened As AFLOAT. 41 either in the wild anbroken mazes of the American forest, or by the tilled fields and comfortable homes of the planter. ‘Wilder stood aft, a silent observer, now and then glancing his eye over the vessel to see that all was in order, his thoughts fixed on duty and—on his passenger. The open waters of the Gulf were at length dancing beneath the cutwater. The sails were loosened from the yards and spread to the breeze. Wilder had given his orders rapidly, his powerful voice reaching every part of the deck. The men were aloft like so many spots, high in the air, The faint cry from the highest rigging and spars, the hoarser tone from those nearer the deck, “ All ready aft, sir,” “All ready forward,” “ Ready the fore- yard,” continued, until every sail was heard from. Naught remained but the final order, “ Let fall,’ which was not long in coming, when the gallant vessel began plowing the waves toward her distant port. “Mr, Wilder,” said the cabin-boy, touching bim at the same fine lightly on the arm, “ Captain Williams wishes to see you.” Without replying, he turned and me the presence of his superior. “T have been trying to induce Miss St. John to come on deck,” said the Captain, “and haye told her I had in my first officer a man who would be more calculated to amuse and interest her than myself; but she complains of sea-sickness, Poor girl,” he added, after a pause, “I am afraid this leaving home weighs heayily with her, for her countenance wears a troubled look.” “‘ And the cause warrants it,’ hastily replied Wilder. “Do you know aught of it?” asked the Captain. “Tt is, doubtless, what you have just mentioned—leaving home,” answered Wilder. “There is a query in my mind,” said the Captain, abruptly turning the subject, “ why you, sir, after commanding a vessel. should consent, nay more, seek for the position you now hold. Stop, sir, do not misunderstand me,” he quickly added, as he . noticed the angry flash of the young man’s eye. “I know you must haye ample cause, but I say it looks strange, that is all.” “Let it look as it may,” replied Wilder, angrily, “there is — 3 42 WRECK OF THE ALBION, ‘ yF & good reason why I am on this deck. Although, at present, my lips are seaied, at some future time—perhaps before we part from this voyage—I will tell you. ‘You do not doubt my honor in the slightest degree, Captain Williams ?” “By no means,” earnestly replied the Captain. “I did not make this remark simply through curiosity, nor that I doubted or suspected you guilty of some act which had caused you to lose command of your vessel. Let us be friends, Wilder, for we have one common enemy to contend with,” he pointed to the dark green waters of the Gulf, “and on board, only con- fidence and-good feeling should find a place.” “Most gladly, sir, do I indorse your words, and do not wonder at your just adtonishttient § in finding me in the station Iam. Some day you shall be informed of the cause, and then you will justify me for doing as I haye.” The extended hand was warmly taken, and in that grasp was cemented a friendship which died only with the end of life. After a few commands had been given, the Captain sought the cabin, leaving to the young man the guidance of the vessel. When the sun arose the following morning, the ship was far out on the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The land was to be distinctly traced on the northern seaboard, and the Albion, with all the canvas set that could be made available, went dashing along, as if none on board were more anxious than the ship to reach the destined port.. Wilder was stand- ing gazing out on the broad expanse of waters, when the voice of Captain Williams arrested his attention. “Well, Wilder, we are once more at sea, and it makes me feel young again to smell nothing but fresh air and see green waves after lying at anchor so long.” “Tt is pleasant,” replied the yqmg man, “to be relieved from constantly looking on nothing but mountains, hills, or valleys.” “ Your remark would cause a landsman to laugh,” remarked his commander,” for, certainly, they would say there was more monotony in looking at naught save water, than in