Ivan the Terrible; or, Dark Deeds of Night — page 100: what you’re looking at

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96 had not thought of before, that I had gone too far round the bay to be of much assistance, or, indeed, to be in time for any, had they been suddenly attacked. Besides, I could not think how long I had been gone; but it now seemed very late. ‘¢ The stars were shining their brightest, and the thin white clouds of morning were beginning to rise and run towards the west. ‘© Well, I bethought me of my course—for I wasa little bewildered and doubtful where I was—but, after a little thinking, I took the back track, and soon got a glimpse of the camp-fire, which was nearly burnt down; and by this I reckoned I was considerably longer than my two hours. ‘© When I got back into the camp I looked under the waggon, and found uncle in & sweet sleep, and though my heart was full almost to bursting with what I had heard, and the cruel sight I had seen, yet I wouldn’t wake him ; and J beat about and mended the fire, and watched, and waited, till near daylight, when mother called to me out of the waggon. ‘‘ This wakened my uncle, and then I told all that had hap- pened, for if it had been to save my life, I couldn’t have kept it in much longer. But though mother said it was very strange, Uncle Spackman considered that I had only been dreaming; but he couldn’t persuade me of it; and when I told him I intended to be off at daylight, just as the major had told me to do, and ride my best all the way to Charleston, he laughed, and said I was a fool. But I felt that I was no fool, and J was solernn certain that I hadn’t been dreaming; and though both mother and he tried their hardest to make me put off going, yet I made up my mind (¢oit, and they had to give up. For wouldn’t I have been a pretty sort of friend to the major, if, after what he told me, I could have stayed behind, and gone on only at a waggon pace to look after the murderer? I don’t think if I had done so that I should ever have been able to look a white man in the face again. Soon as the peep of day, I was on horseback. Mother was mighty sad, and begged me not to go, but Uncle Spackman was mighty sulky, and kept calling me fool upon fool, until I was almost angry enough to forget that we were of blood kin. But all his talking did not stop me, and I reckon I was five miles on my way before he had his team in traces for a start. I rode as briskly as I could to get on without hurting my nag. I had asmart ride of it for more than forty miles before me, and the road was very heavy. But it was a good two hours from sunset when I got into town, and. the first question I asked of the people I met was, to show me where the ships were kept. When I got to the wharf they showed me the Falmouth packet, where she lay in the stream, ready to sail as soon as the wind should avour.” James Gray, with the same eager impatience which he has been suffered to describe in his own language, had already uired a boat to go on board the British packet, when he remembered that he had neglected all those means, legal and otherwise, by which alone his purpose might be properly effected. He did not know much about legal process, but he had common sense enough, the moment he began to reflect on the subject, to know that some such process was necessary. This conviction produced another difficulty; he knew not in which quarter to turn for counsel and assistance; but here the boatman who saw his bewilderment, and knew by his dialect and dress that he was a back countryman, came to his relief, and from him he got directions where to find the merchants with whom his uncle, Spackman, had done business in former years. To them he went, and withoat circumlocution, told the whole story of his ghostly visitation. Even.as a dream, which these gentlemen at once conjectured it to be, the story of James Gray was equally clear and curious; and its intense warmth and the entire absorption which the subject had effected of his mind and soul, were such that they judged it not improper at least to carry out the search of the vessel which he contemplated. 3 Major Spencer was well-known in Charleston; and the office of his business agents in that city was distant but a few rods from that of the merchants to whom James Gray had introduced himself as Joel Spackman’s nephew. Here James was encountered by a circumstance that made some- what against his story, although the merchants—believing him to be a veracious young man—agreed that it would be at least a curious coincidence should the Scotchman be found on board the Falmouth packet. A letter from Major Spencer was produced by the agents, inti- mating the utter impossibility of his coming to town for the space of a month, and expressing his regret that he should be unable to avail himself of the opportunity of the foreign vessel of whose arrival in Charleston, and proposed time of departure, they had themselves advised him. They read the letter aloud to James and their brother merchants, and with difficulty suppressed their smiles at the gravity with which the former related and insisted upon the particulars of hig vision. ‘He has changed his mind,” returned the impetuous youth. Sa EN a ae II FR TBE ica A i ee See THE BUZZARD’S FEAST; OR, THE SECRET MURDER. ‘¢ He was on his way down, I tell you—a hundred miles on his way —when he camped with us. I know him well, I tell you, and talked with him myself half the night.” , ‘* At least,”? remarked the gentleman who had gone with James, ‘¢it can do nu harm to look into the business. We can procure a warrant for searching the vessel after this man, Macnab ; and should he be found on board the packet, it will be a sufficient circumstance to justify the magistrates in detaining him until we can ascertain where Major Spencer really is. The measure was accordingly adopted, and it was nearly sunset before tle warrant was procured, and the proper officer in realiness. The impatience of a spirit so eager and so devoted as James Gray, under these delays, may be imagined; and when in the boat, and on his way to the packet where the criminal was to be sought, his blood became so excited tlrat it was with much ado he eould be kept in his seat. : His quick, eager action continually disturbed the trim of the boat, and one of his mercantile friends, who had accompanied him, with that interest in the affair which curiosity alone inspired, was under constant apprehension lest he would plunge overboard in his | impatient desire to shorten the space which lay between. : The same impatience enabled the youth, though never on ship- board before, to grasp the rope which had been flung at their ap- proach, and to mount her sides with cat-like agility. Without waiting to declare himself or his purpose, he ran from one side of the deck to the other, greedily staring, to the surprise of officers, passengers, and seamen, in tlie faces of all of them, and surveying them with an almost offensive scrutiny. He turned away from the search with disappointment. There was no face like that of the suspected man among them. By this time his friend, the merchant, with the sheriff’s officer, had entered the vessel, and were in conference with the captain. Gray drew near in time to hear the latter affirm that there was no man of the name of Macnab, as stated in the warrant, among his passengers or crew. “‘Heis! He must be!” exclaimed the impetuous youth. ‘‘The major never lied in. his life, and he couldn’t after he was deads Macnab is here. He is a Scotechman——” | The captain interrupted him, “‘ We have, young gentleman, several Scotchmen on board, and one of them is named Macleod.” “‘ Let me see him! Where is he?’ demanded the youth. ; By this time, the passengers, and a goodly portion of the crew, were collected about the little party. The captain turned his eyes upon the group and asked, “* Where is Mr. Macleod?” “He is gone below! He’s sick!” replied one of the passengers. “ That’s him! That must be the man!” exclaimed the youth. ‘*T’ll lay my life that’s no other than Macnab. He’s only taken a false name.” t It was now remembered by one of the passengers, and remarked, that Macleod had expressed himself as unwell but a few moments before, and had gone below, even while the boat was rapidly ap- proaching the vessel. At this statement the captain led the way into the cabin, closely followed bv James Gray and the rest. “Mr. Macleod,” he said, in a voice somewhat elevated, as he approached the berth ot that person, ‘‘ you are wanted on deck for a few moments.” ) ‘Tam really too unwell, captain,” replied a feeble voice from behind the curtain of the berth. _ “Tt will be necessary,” was the reply of the captain. ‘ There is a warrant from the authorities of the town to look after a fugitive from justice.” Macleod had already begun a second speech declaring his feeble- ness, when the fearless youth, Gray, bounded before the captain and tore away, with a single grasp of his hand, the curtain which con- cealed the suspected man from their sight. ‘Tt is he!” was the instant exclamation of the youth, as he beheld him. ‘‘ It is he!—Macnab, the Scotchman !—the man that murdered Major Spencer !”” (70 be concluded in our next.) ; THE BUZZARDS FEAST; OR, THE SECRET MURDER, will finish in No. 13. In No. 14 will be commenced a new and highly interesting Story, entitled, THE RED HOUSE AT ST. PETERSBURGH. READ bit & LIGHT JACK, THE KING OF THE ROAD. | t demand, No. 1h inted, 0, 2, and the ert En praneli ae One eg and can be had with GComicbooksseom