Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 25 — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

20 back, and, a few minutes later, he was dead. As he had expressed a wish to be buried at sea, kis remains were consigned to the deep, that same day. Soon after, the captain of the sloop-of-war sent a party of sailors aboard the brig to help take care of her, while he went in chase of the yacht, By this time the ridge of land, on which the vessel had grounded, was nearly submerged by the rising of the tide. Harris then lowered his boats, and soon suc- ceeded in towing clear the brig, which, fortu- nately, had sustained no serious injury. All sail was set, and away went the Heron, follow- ing after the war-vessel, in chase of the yacht. The merchant craft was a good sailer, clipper built and carrying skysails, staysails fore and aft, and studdingsails. The sloop-of-war, only a league ahead, was gaining on the yacht, whose sail was seen, like a white column, in the distance, Suddenly, evidently perceiving that if he continued on his present course, he must soon be overtaken, Wilton put his craft directly before the wind, thus increasing his speed. All day the chase was in sight, both the pursuers still gaining. Night at length closed over the sea, with a clear, full moon. A light mist ahead, how- ever, now rendered the yacht invisible in the dim light. ‘* By to-morrow, noon, my lad!’’ said Harris to Sinclair, who was seated in a chair on the quarter-deck, ‘‘we will have your treasure, safe and sound aboard, I hope, unless that rascally Wilton should contrive, out of spite, to throw it overboard!” ‘‘And the yacht, too,” said one of Ginclair’ crew, all of whom, with the exception of three, who were in the cabin, fast recovering from wounds received in the late combat, were on deck, ‘‘the yacht, too, which seems like an old friend, after what we have gone through with aboard of her, will again be in our hands.” ** Ay, bless ber ‘old bones,’” said Bolt, who stood near, ‘‘ the little darling will be with us again.” After awhile the quarter-deck was deserted by all save Sinelair, Mora then came, and stood by him, her eyes shining, her smooth cheeks glowing. He took her band, and putting an arm round her waist, drew her down to his side. ‘‘Mora,” he said, parting the black hair from her brow, and kissing her full, red lips, ‘“T have a few words to say to you; a few ouestions to ask.” He saw the diamond gleam of her dark eyes, a moment; then the long lashes drooped, Her bosom heaved, her whole frame trembled, he heard the beating of her heart, and saw her cheek glowing with a shy consciousness of the fact. ** Well,” she said, in a low voice, would you ask me, Henry?’ ‘*Simply this. You have said you loved me, Will you be my wife?” A deathly paleness crossed her face, She gently withdrew her hand. ‘* No,” she said, solemnly, ‘‘ nor I!” Then tears rolled down her cheeks, They flowed so fast, that, as she hung her head, som of them dropped on her little feet. Her words fell like a knife-thrust on the heart of the youth. “Be it so,” he answered, sadly. “I see I was mistaken. What you call love is merely gratitude and friendship. Your heart is an- other’s—that other is Wilton!” ‘* No—no!” she exclaimed. She took his fair head between both her hands, and pressed it to her bosom. Then she turned suddenly away. ‘‘ Ah, woe is me! woe is me!” she murmured, in a voice of anguish. ‘Speak, Mora. Be frank with me! what do you mean?’ He put his arm round her waist, and again drew her toward him She strug- gled, but not very hard. Then she looked up at him, and said witb naivete: ‘* What Beadle;s Half-Dime Library. ‘I want you, but I cannot have you!” “Dear girl, what mean you?” ‘“‘I will tell you,” said the young woman. “It is time I told you, now! Wilton is my own brother! The outlaw and pirate Morton, of the Malays, is my father. Years ago my father escaped from Botany Bay, where he was a convict. He joined the Malays, hé married one of their women, who died a few years after. That woman was the mother of myself and Wilton Morton (this is his real name) my brother. When my brother was a boy, he ran away, and went to the United States. In his twentieth year, he became lieutenant aboard the U. 8. gun-brig; Tigress. That brig | he ran on the rocks, off the island which has lately sunk, and with a boat's crew, whom he had induced to join him, went to my father and his lawless band. He guided them to the wrecked brig and attacked the crew, many of “There isa whirlpool, there,” said Harris, who had been looking through his glass. Bolt turned pale, A sudden suspicion had crossed his mind, **God help the little yacht!” he exclaimed. The sloop-of-war was a mile ahead of the Heron, booming along, under a perfect cloud of canvas, She discharged a gun, as a Signal to Wilton to heave to, but the young man kept straight on for the dangerous whirlpool. ‘The yacht is a doomed, craft,’ said Harris, “if that fellow keeps on much longer.” Pale as death, with clas hands, stood Mora, watching the little craft. On she went, heading straight for the dangerous white water. Nearer to it she drew, every moment. A dark form was seen to spring _ e after-rail. It was Wilton, waving his: c% efiantly to the ple. in chase of him, A faint hurrah was borne to their ears. Then the young man returned to the helm, and the yacht still bore straight on. The sunlight. gleamed upon her snowy sail. Her white hull contrasted with the blue waves. Never before had she seemed so beautiful to the anxious whom were killed, the others escaping in boats. | The guns fell into the Malays’ hands. Some of these pieces they mounted aboard their vessels, the others they concealed on the island. ‘‘A war-vessel was sent out to search for Wil- ton, but he succeeded in hiding himself where he could not be found. It was thought that he had died. When you saved me from the burning vessel, I refrained from making ex- planations to you; for, while I disapproved of my brother’s and father’s conduct, I could not bring myself to betray them. Subsequently when I met my brother aboard the yacht, I could with difficulty prevent myself from show- ing, before you, that I knew this person whom you deemed a stranger tome. In the conver- sation which followed between us, he acknowl- edged he had come to put the yacht and her crew, by strategy, in the power of the Malays, I begged him not to do so, and he promised me he would not, but, not knowing, then, that I loved you, as he told me, afterward, he had not intended to keep his word. “On the island, to which you were taken captive, I frankly owned to him that I loved you, and at last prevailed on him to attempt your rescue, He drugged some brandy, which he gave to the ring men, who were thus soon rendered powerless, as you saw. It was very hard for me to seem so calm, cold and cruel toward you, on that island, but it was necessa- ry for me to disguise my feelings, to pretend I did not love you, as, otherwise, you would have been speedily put to death. | ‘And now,” added Mora, sadly, “ you know all. Before you behold the daughter of a con- vict—a murderer—a pirate, and the sister of a man equally lawless,” The young girl was silent. Pale and trem- bling she sat, her head bowed, before Sinclair. The young man spoke not. Several times he essayed to do so, but a choking sensation in his throat prevented him. ‘‘ Now, you see,” added Mora, “ why I can- not marry you.. As the daughter of a convict and pirate, I must not link myself to a map like you. Farewell, Henry Sinclair,” she added, rising. ‘‘It is best we should neve meet as we have, to-night, again. Mora will go away to some lonely island. There, under the broad palm trees, she will pray for you. She only asks that you will sometimes think kindly of her. Good-by—good-by!” She turned to leave him. ** Mora!” he called. 3 She walked on a few steps. Then she stag- gered, and would have fallen had not Sinclair caught her in his arms. “Dear girl!” he exclaimed, showering kisses upon her face. ‘Though your father were even worse than he is, it would not change my love for you. Again I ask you to be my wife,” Mora could not resist his urgent pleading. Soon her head drooped on her lover’s shoulder, | her hand glided into his, and she gave the wished-for promise. : Next morning the mist cleared. The yacht | was then: visible, not a league ahead, mak- ing straight for a cluster of low islands, | not two miles off. Between the two nearest isles the water was white and foaming. groups that watched her. Skimming on, she at last entered the vortex of foaming waters. Down she went, a moment, on her beam-ends, then, righting, round and round she spun. And as she thus revolved, her bull was gradually in- gulfed. Her tall, tapering mast and white sail, only, were now visible. Aloft, on her mast, was seen the figure of Wilton, for an instant, his lithe form bending far out, as he sated, Getenk y waved his cap and uttered his wild urra Suddenly the mast went over with him, both dis- ry Patines in the white, wens A osteo Every ves- tige of the yacht had vanished before the gaze of the watchers. Bolt. bowed his head upon his breast with a groan, Mora staggered, almost fainting, against the rail. “Ay, the yacht is gone,”’ said Harris, “and with tt the treasure!” The two vessels approached within a mile of the white water among the islands. Then a boat was lowered from each craft, that of the Heron containing, besides Bolt and others of the yacht’s crew, Henry Sinclair, who, in spite of his wound, could not be prevailed upon to remain aboard the brig. The boats soon were near the whirlpool. It was not a very large one, but it was violent enaugn to easily destroy a craft like the yacht, some of the fragments of which were now seen lying among the rifts of the low rocks, against which the vessel had been dashed to pi€ces., ’ With great care, the seamen approached the dan- gerous place. The Heron’s boat was made fast to a rock, near the foaming vortex. “No use of looking,” said Harris; “ you will never see the treasure again.” Suddenly Bolt, who had been eagerly peering at the rocks, uttered a cry of joy. He po out to ee a rope, which had caught fast round a jag- ged spur. “That is the rope that was attached to the chest!” he exclaimed, ‘*‘ How lucky we did not take it off. Hooray! lad, the treasure is saved!” With great caution, several of the seamen moved out on the low line of rocks. They gained the spur to which was attached the rope. On this they to at last draw up the precious chest, It was safely deposited in the Heron’s boat, amid deafening cheers, both from the merchantmen and the sailors of the sloop-of-war. The chest was soon aboard the brig, deposited in the cabin. ** And now for home,” said Harris. When the men from the sloop-of-war, aboard the brig, were returning to their own craft, the Heron, firing a parting salute, which was answered by one of the deep-mouthed guns of the other vessel, stood away for home. In due time she arrived at Perth, Australia, where happy was the meeting between the lads who had belonged to the yacht, and their relatives and friends. ‘A few months later, they learned that the sloo of-war’s crew had arrested Mako and Morton, wi many others of the Malay pirates, These were sub- Tey, dealt with according to law. fore this, Sinclair had made .Mora his bride. Having given old Bolt and each of his boy crew a handsome present from the treasure, he sailed for New York, where he now resides, happy and pros- perous, with his beautiful wife, | TILE* END, Latest Issues of the Half-Dime Library. 11 The Two Detectives. By Albert W. | flee biao wily. wip. lendstevwtus s; die .% 12 Guiliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift.... 13 The Dumb Spy. By Ol! Comes. Peer: 14 ps areca or, he Wonderful TROL. WK. wie tele Jed. teslegtas ool wy 3 15 The Sea Cat. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 6 Robinson Crusoe, (27 illustrations) ..: 17 — Roy, the Boy Buccaneer, 1 1 Sx | & ses SF By Col. Prentiss Ingraham 8 Sinbad the Sailor,.... .. ee an 9 The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill... 20 The Double Daggers. By E. L. Wheeler. 21 Frontier Angel. By Edward 8. Bllis..,, 22 The Sea Serpent; ne Bip Boy Ropiyson RSE Crusog. By Col. Juan Lewis..°....°... .° 23 Nick o° the Night; or, Tum Boy Spy or *76. baugh i. pod. 24 Di ry irk “B Col. B. Ingrab _ Diamon rk.. ol. P. 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