Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 429 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

| | me truth from my stand-point, rather than the garbled story from your son, and—” ** Hold! Silas Finn, you shall not say that my son would lie, for | know that he would tell the truth, be it ever so much against him. ‘*No, you felt your power over mother and son, and you make both of us feel it, and this is not only ungenerous, unkind, but it is wicked in you. ‘‘ But I must be content with my lot as it is.” ‘** Mistress Dare, you are hard on me; but my ‘actions in the future will prove that you have wronged me in the past; but I would like to see itaster Duncan here at home, in your presence, rnd have a sober talk with him as regards his future, for [donot wish to keep this quarrel 1 ),?? ‘*Nor do I, but Duncan is not one to forgive and forget at the bidding.” ‘*I will see if he has come,” and Mrs. Dare left the room, while Silas Finn again returned to the mirror to finish his interrupted primping. His eyes had a cunning, wicked glare, and a look of triumph rested upon his face, while rub- bing his hands together, as though in glee, he said: ‘* Silas Finn, you are in luck at Jast, but that boy ‘must go to sea, that is sure, for—” he return of Mrs. Dare broke in upon him, and she said, quietly: ‘Duncan has not returned yet, Mr. Finn; he has doubtless stopped at some of the neighbors’, as he often does,” Silas Finn bowed, and replied: ‘*T will await some little time for him; but will he not keep you waiting for tea?” ‘‘ Yes, for 1 never have a meal without him if I expect him home.” The face of the schoolmaster changed, for he anticipated enjoying one of the delicious sup- pers for which Dare Homestead was famous; ut night was near at hand, and he would not be caught out after dark, mounted as he was, and he inwardly cursed the boy for bis delay, while a dread came over him that perhaps he had been too violent, and that Duncan was un- able to come home, Worried with this idea he at last decided to o, for he became more and more nervous as 1¢ dreaded harm to the boy. ‘*T will have to go, Mistress Dare,” he at last said. He was not invited to remain to supper, and Mrs. Dare arose, as though expecting him to de- part at once. ‘*T am sorry that Duncan delays us, but I will have a talk with him to-night.” ‘** And tell him he must submit to the situation, Mrs. Dare, or if not, go to sea.” ‘*T shall never urge my boy to leave me, for it ae break my heart,” was the trembling re- : wey suppose you still keep to your compact with me?’ **T have pledged you my word, sir, and I shall keep it,” was the cold reply. ‘Yes, I feel that you will; but good-by, Mis- tress Dare, and give my love to Duncan.” The schoolmaster held out his hand, but the widow appeared not to see it, and his face dark- ened as he walked out of the parlor. It was a funny sight to see him unhitch and mount his steed, which latter act he accomplished after some three efforts, one of which sent him clear over the back of the horse upon the ground on the other side. But Mrs. Dare saw no amusement in it, for she stood like a statue gazing after him, and then, as he rode away she returned to the par- lor and throwing herself upon the sofa her whole frame quivered with emotion, as she be- gan to sob violently, and murmured: ‘Love, fear, and hatred, all struggling for the mastery—which will triumph ?” CHAPTER VII. A BOY’S DESPAIR, ! . Tue shadows of night had stolen over the land and sea, and the parlor had become dark, ere Mrs. Dare arose from the sofa, where she had pong Steuegied in bitterness of soul. e sky had become overcast with storm- clouds, and until the roll of thunder fell upon her ears, she seemed not to realize how time ‘was passing. Then, in a startled way she sprung to her feet and cried: ‘Well, I must face the ordeal, be it what it may; but oh! what a weight of woe, of coming evil, rests upon my heart. '“ Ah! a storm is coming up, and what has be- come of poor Dunean? “he hee Heaven! can any harm have befallen LT Ee eS In fear she ran from the room, to meet sud- denly in the hall, Duncan Dare. **Oh Duncan, my poor boy! thank God you aoe come!” and she threw her arms around im. He flinched at her touch, and said bitterly: ‘* Be careful, mother, for old Finn’s blows cut deep.” ‘* Ha! you suffer? Come with me, quick!” She led the way to her room, where ’Liza had placed a lamp, and then turned to the boy. He was very pale, and his features were pinch- ed with suffering, while he had a look that was not like any she had ever seen upon his hand- gerry Fibs. face. ‘* Mother, I took my whipping to-day, and uttered no moan of complaint, but see!” He bared his shoulders and arms as he spoke, and a cry of anguish burst from the mother’s lips as she beheld the bruised and bleeding flesh, Silas Finn had indeed scored his victim, and the blows, both mother and son knew but too well, would leave scars that time would never elface, Pallid, strangely calm, Mrs. Dare tenderly drew off the shirt, all stained with blood, and then dressed the wounds, uttering soothing words the while, as though to an infant. Duncan never spoke, but his eyes burned brightly and his muscles seemed set in his en- deavor to control himself, At last the cruel cuts were dressed, and Mrs. Dare said: ‘**Can you come down to supper, Duncan?” ‘* No, mother, [ could not eat, for food would choke me, and I wish to rest and will try and sleep; but I saw a schooner lying at anchor among the shoals off the beach, and there was no wind, so I fear she will be wrecked when the storm breaks.” ‘The storm seems a long way off yet, my son, and a wind may spring up meanwhile to enable her to get off, so do not worry about her.” ‘But even if she has wind, where she lies, she cannot get to sea without a pilot, so please have Dan go to Captain Hampton’s and ask him to see to her safety, for I cannot.” ‘‘Dan shall start at once, Duncan, so now try and sleep.” ‘* One moment, mother.” és Yes q7 ‘Was Silas Finn here this afternoon?” ‘** He was.” ‘** And you have heard his story?” ~* Yes,” ‘* Now hear mine, please.” ** Not to-night, my son.” ** Yes, to-night, mother, for then you will know just what occurred, and the truth,” and the boy told all that had happened. | Mrs. Dare’s face eemed that she believed him, but she uttered no word against Silas Finn. ‘* Mother, do you still intend to marry that man?” The question came terse, and in earnest. ‘Alas! Duncan, my son, I must do so.” ** Must. ?” ** Yes,” ‘* Why, mother?” ‘* Do not ask me, Duncan, but I repeat I shall parry, Silas Finn, for I have pledged myself to O SO, y eae you will not break that pledge?” ©, ‘* For my sake, dear mother?” ‘* Alas, no, for I cannot.” A silence of a moment followed, and then Dun- can Dare said slowly: ‘*Good-night mother; kiss me and let me sleep, for I am very tired, so very tired.” She kissed him over and over again, and then softly left the room, a look upon her face which haunted him in after years. ‘*Oh! Father in Heaven have mercy! I am but a boy in years, but in utter despair I know not what to do!” and the words came in bitter anguish from the lips of the brave boy, as he lay upon his little bed, his hands clinched over his pale face. For a long time he lay thus, while the rum- bling of the thunder grew louder and louder showing that the storm was coming nearer and nearer. About the house all was silent, and at last he arose. Quickly, yet noiselessly he moved about the room; and in a short while he had rolled up a small bundle, tying it tight. Then he opened a drawer and took therefrom a few pieces of gold, his savings of the past few years from the little sums his mother had given im. Silently he stood glancing around the room, Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 5 as though to picture it upon his memory, and then, putting out the lamp, walked out into the hallway. All was silence and darkness. No light shone in his mother’s room, and the kitchen was also in gloom. The front door he found, to his surprise, un- locked, for he left that way. not wishing to be seen by any one who might be up. Out upon the piazza, across the lawn he went, when suddenly a loud bark was heard, and a huge dog came bounding toward him. ** Down, Savage—down, sir! don’t you know me? The dog recognized his young master, and started to trot along by his side. ‘*No, you must go back, Savage, for your home is there, and I have no home now. ‘*Go back, sir!” His voice trembled as he spoke, and the dog skulked back to the house slowly, while Duncan Dare swiftly walked away, plunging into the forest, and following the path he was wont to take in going to school. Suddenly he started, for a form came befcre him. ‘Ho, Dan! is this you?” ‘Yes sah, dis me,” answered one whose voice betrayed him as a negro. ‘* What are you doing here?” ** Miss Mary want me to go to Cap’n Ham’- ton’s, sah, and: told him that a skunner is lyin’ off-shore; but there be a grave-yard on each road, and sperrits walks o’ stormy nights, Mas’ Dunken, and bress your soul, I was ’feard to go, so I jist been waitin’ here tryin’ to see ef some one wouldn’t come along that I could tell ’em.” ‘* Dan you are a coward; but go to the house and I will see about the schooner, and mind you, don’t tell mother you met me, or any one else, should you see them to-night.” ‘*No sah, I goin’ right to bed: and the negro departed glad to be relieved of his disagreeable duty, which had caused him to lie in sight of the house for over an hour trying to gather up his codrage to go on his errand. But into the dark forest went Duncan Dare, for fear was fore gn to his nature, and in his present anguish, with despair at his heart, he would have faced any danger that might con- front him. CHAPTER VIII. THE MYSTERIOUS SCHOONER, THE storm which had been threatening since sunset, had gradually spread over the entire pony and the clouds had become as black as ink. The distant thunder, at first a mere rumble, had grown louder and louder as the elements col- lected toward one storm-center., Yet so far not a breath of air fell upon land or sea. In the early afternoon a schooner was coming elose in-shore, and slowly heading along the coast. In her foretop was a man in officer’s uniform and he seemed to be closely observing the lay of the land, dotted as it was, a short distance back from the coast, with farm-houses, and beyond was a small village. — ‘‘Ho the top!” suddenly called out a voice from the deck. ‘* Ay, ay, sir.” ‘‘ What prospects ashore?” ‘“ About as promised, sir, for the village lies inland, and there are a number of prosperous farms surrounding,” came the answer from the foretop. , ‘‘T don’t like the looks of the water hereabout and there are shoals in this locality,” called out the one who had hailed from the deck. ‘‘'The sea has a shallow look and I don’t like it myself, sir; but the lead will tell the depth.” “Ay, ay! cast the lead!” was the quick re- sponse. A moment after came the cry from forward, ‘¢Three fathoms!” ‘‘ Ah! this is shallow indeed, and our keel thirteen feet under water. ** Does it look the same all about here, Len- nox?” asked the man on deck. ‘‘There are patches of dark blue here and there, sir, which denote deeper water, but I think we are in the midst of a group of shoals.” ‘Then I shall put to sea and await another night, for I don’t wish this slowly-rising storm to catch us here,” “ Two fathoms!” sung out the leadsman quick- ly, and instantly came the order: ‘Down with your helm! quick, my man, and we'll get out of this.” But the wind suddenly died away, the tile JNA — Comicbooks